Four Beautiful Letters (Desire Island 4) - Page 35

“A pleasure,” Sophia said, wondering if good friend was code for anything more, and then telling herself to cut it out. She had no exclusivity rights, through her own choice.

Elizabeth took both of Sophia’s hands in hers. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you. I haven’t seen Nicholas so smitten since…” She paused, furrowing her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Well, since ever, actually,” she finished with a musical laugh.

Nick laughed, too. “Guilty as charged.” He put his arm around Sophia, pulling her close.

Sophia leaned into him, feeling ridiculously happy and pleased, in spite of her promises to herself to keep her emotional distance.

“Is the room set up?” Nick asked Elizabeth.

“You betcha, boss,” Elizabeth said with a conspiratorial grin. “Including a gear bag with the requested items.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Elizabeth.”

“The room?” Sophia asked, curious. “What room?”

Nick tightened his grip around her shoulders. “You’ll see. But first, how about a quick tour?”

“I’d love that,” Sophia agreed eagerly.

They stepped into an elegant living room furnished with fine antiques beautifully upholstered in silk and leather. Oil paintings were framed in gold gilt against cream-colored walls. People were seated here and there about the room. A man in black dinner jacket with jeweled cufflinks glittering at his wrists reclined on a leather divan, a naked woman kneeling on the carpet at his feet, her head resting on one of his knees. He was talking quietly to another man seated in an armchair across from him, a wineglass in his hand. He wore black leather pants and a red silk pirate’s shirt, the laces opened to reveal tufts of gray curls at his chest.

In another grouping sat two women, both dressed in elegant designer suits and sophisticated gold jewelry, as if they’d come straight from Wall Street or a fancy law office. They were attended by very handsome, younger men, both in white shorts, their smooth, tan chests bare.

On closer inspection of the room, Sophia saw the St. Andrew’s crosses, one on either side of an ornate Italian Renaissance marble fireplace. She noted the slave cages set at various intervals around the space, some tall and narrow, some long and low. Two of them were occupied.

A naked woman was inside a standing cage, her back to them, her fingers tight around the bars. Her bare bottom showed evidence of a recent, rather severe caning. The other, nude save for a leather harness and slave collar, was lying on a thick pad in a sleep cage, her eyes closed, a half smile on her face.

Neither Nick nor Elizabeth paid the slightest attention to them. “Along with its being an informal gathering place,” Elizabeth was saying, “we hold slave auctions in this room. We also host the occasional party or wedding ceremony for those of our guests who like whips and chains as part of their festivities.”

“And who doesn’t?” Sophia couldn’t help but quip.

“Indeed,” Nick agreed with a laugh.

“Most of our play spaces are private dungeons available by appointment,” Nick added as they walked through the room toward a wide, curving staircase of beautiful mahogany. “We also have bedrooms on the fourth floor for members who come in from out of town, or just want to stay overnight.”

The second floor consisted of private dungeons with equipment to rival anything on Desire Island, with an added overlay of opulence. They were only able to view a couple of the rooms, as the others were occupied. Sophia was becoming increasingly aroused, both by the BDSM equipment with all its potential, and the sounds of snapping leather and cries of erotic pain from behind closed doors.

“Which room are we going in?” she pressed, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Patience is a virtue in a submissive,” Nick teased.

“Good thing I’m not a sub,” Sophia retorted with a grin.

Nick chuckled. “You’re incorrigible.”

Elizabeth bid them a good night as they ascended the stairs to the third floor. “The rooms on this floor are more specialized,” Nick explained. “A hot wax room, a medical exam room, a cross-dressing room, a mirrored room with a suspension rack at its center so you can see and torture your slave girl from every angle.”

“Oooh,” Sophia breathed. “That sounds hot. We going there?”

“Nope,” Nick replied cryptically. He led her past several closed doors to the door at the end of the long hall. “This is where we’re going. I had it designed especially with you in mind. I haven’t seen it yet, either. Hopefully, Elizabeth made sure all my specifications were met.”

He opened the door and flicked on the light.

The space was a nearly exact replica of the vacuum bed chamber on Desire Island. It had the same counter at the back and recovery couch on a side wall. Just like the one at the resort, there was a vacuum bed set on a raised platform covered in black latex, a clear sheet of latex over the top. A small gear bag sat waiting nearby, as promised.

Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic
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