“Are we in need of partners this evening?” asked the greeter, holding up different colored wristbands.
Marissa hesitated.
“This is my first time,” Kimani replied, “so I guess I’m just checking things out.”
The woman handed her a white wristband and a green one. “The green one is for first-timers. The white one signals that you’re not playing tonight. If you change your mind, just come see me.”
She turned to Marissa, who said, “I’ll take a white one for now.”
As Kimani put on her wristbands, she observed a woman wearing a trench coat and black leather boots.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the greeter said to the woman with a regal carriage.
The woman looked over at Marissa and Kimani before settling her gaze on Marissa. The right corner of her lips curled slightly, and her eyes brightened with appreciation. But she said nothing as she went up a set of stairs behind the greeter.
Kimani turned to Marissa. “Where do the stairs lead to?”
“The Upper Balcony,” Marissa replied as she led Kimani past the greeter and down the steps to the main area. “Upper Balcony is for the VIP members only. I’d like to go up there one day, but I’m not even sure how one gets to be a VIP member.”
Kimani had half expected to walk into a room full of BDSM equipment not unlike what she’d seen in Ben’s playroom, but the main floor resembled a hotel lobby with nicely appointed sitting areas and a sideboard with a water dispen
ser and bowls of gummy bears. Nondescript music with a throbbing beat played in the background.
“Why gummy bears?” Kimani asked as she helped herself to a cup of water at the sideboard.
“Sugar helps keep your energy level up,” Marissa explained, “and you really don’t want to eat anything too substantive, especially if you’re doing a long anal session.”
Kimani remembered the time Ben had sank himself there. It had been more amazing than she’d ever thought possible.
“Cold?” Marissa asked after noticing Kimani had shivered.
“I’m good,” Kimani answered.
A woman wearing a black bustier and five-inch stilettos came up to the sideboard. She gave Kimani a broad smile before checking out the wristbands she wore.
“First time? Welcome,” she said. “I hope you like what you see.”
“Thanks,” Kimani replied.
The woman swept her gaze over Kimani and flashed her another smile before wandering off.
“Oh my God, she was totally checking you out,” Marissa giggled. “I thought she was going to hit on you, even though you’re wearing a white wristband.”
Kimani fingered the wristband. “So this is my shield?”
“Sort of.”
“So where does all the, uh, action happen?”
Marissa pointed to the far wall of curtains. “Behind there.”
“Do you want to go there now?”
Marissa hesitated again. “Let’s just finish our water here first.”
They sat down on a divan. Kimani looked at the oil paintings on the walls. One was of a naked woman dangling upside down from the ceiling high above a crowd of people in an 18th-century ballroom. Beside it was a painting of a naked man bent and tied to an A-frame. On the opposite wall, one painting depicted a woman being ravished by a satyr, while, in another, three nymphs bathed near a waterfall while three men looked on, their hands around their cocks.
Two men emerged from behind the curtains. One wore jeans and a cowboy hat. The other wore nothing at all except for a collar about his neck.