‘What about the girlfriend?’ I asked. ‘Is she still around?’
Maria put down her drink with a grimace.
‘Ironically, she decided she couldn’t cope with me getting paid for the things I did to her for love. She left.’
Tom shook his head. ‘Bummer.’
‘There’s a world full of people who want a piece of me,’ said Maria briskly. ‘The loss was small and soon forgotten. Now then. What would you like to see first?’
‘Why is there a ballet barre?’ I asked, finishing my G&T and putting down my glass.
‘Ah, I have a client with a Black Swan fetish. I play the severe ballet teacher, he is the hapless dancer. And he really can’t dance, let me tell you, never mind how pretty his tutu is.’
I snorted with laughter, imagining some paunchy middle-aged type in frills and tights.
‘I presume you have more gear than that barre,’ said Tom. ‘I’d be fascinated to see your stock. Stocks, even.’
‘I don’t have stocks,’ said Maria serenely. ‘A pillory, on the other hand…’
She rose and beckoned us to follow her. A moment later, the little sitting room was shut off, replaced by the mirror panel, and we crossed to the opposite side of the room. The mirrors on the far wall opened like concertina doors, revealing a huge storeroom stacked with all kinds of bizarre items of furniture. As I peered into the gloom, the first things to hit my eye were a St Andrew’s Cross at the back, a long leather-padded bench with cuffs buckled to it at either end, and the aforementioned pillory. Everywhere were things I could not identify, made of stainless steel or shining mahogany or hi-tech plastics. It was intimidating in the extreme, and I wanted to shrink closer to Tom, but I didn’t dare.
‘So then,’ said Maria with a flourishing hand gesture. ‘Take your pick. Anything you’d like to see in action?’
‘This is nice,’ I said, running my hand over the least scary option, a sumptuous and curvaceous couch thing, covered in a soft maroon fabric somewhere between silk and velvet.
‘Ah, I don’t use that,’ said Maria. ‘It’s a sex couch, for couples who want to fuck after their session. My orifices are not for sale.’
‘What about this?’ Tom picked up something that looked like a giant rubber spider web.
‘Ah, you can attach that to a door and buckle your sub in, like a little fly caught in a web. I have clients who enjoy some strap-on action in that position. Looks terribly uncomfortable to me, but what do I know?’
‘Oh, my God,’ I said, having moved on to a beautiful carved wooden horse, complete with jingling bridle, reins and…dildo sticking up from the centre of the saddle.
‘Oh, now every sub should experience this beauty,’ said Maria, coming up behind me and patting its wooden flank. ‘Picture it, Ellie – positioned on your horse, filled and bent over, riding away while your lover smacks your bum with a dressage whip. Look.’ She lifted its tail, pressed a button, and the horse began to move, a rhythmic bucking, accompanied by substantial vibrations. My mouth ran dry. Yes, I could imagine that might be quite…stimulating. There was no way I could look at Tom while my mind was full of the image of him in riding boots and a tightly fitted jacket, wielding the whip. ‘For a girl, it’s perfectly ideal,’ she said. ‘Would you like to try it?’
‘Er…not just now,’ I gibbered.
‘But in private?’ she said, smiling knowingly.
I’m not going to admit that to you!
‘If you aren’t going to demonstrate for us, we can’t use any of it,’ protested Tom. ‘You’re the sub around here.’
‘Hush, be a gentleman,’ said Maria. ‘Don’t pressure the poor girl. Anyway, if you want a real taste of the possibilities here, you might volunteer yourself. You don’t need to undress. I’m happy to do the honours.’
I wheeled round to face Tom, a broad grin splitting my face.
‘That’s a good idea,’ I said.
‘I don’t like pain,’ he complained.
‘Oh, don’t be a wuss,’ said Maria. ‘I won’t hurt you. It’s just for fun.’
‘OK,’ he said after a pause. ‘What about the pillory then?’
Maria clapped her hands.
‘Good choice,’ she purred. ‘Will you help me wheel it out? The heavier pieces are all on castors.’