The Playroom

Chapter Three

A fter countless unanswered texts and missed phone calls, Emily finally decided to open up and tell me about Wonderland. The girl can’t be all mysterious and leave me on the edge of my seat.

“So you finally cracked,” I said, walking through her front door with two bottles of wine in each hand.

She said nothing.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your ball gag?”

“Make all the jokes you want, but this isn’t funny,” Emily said, taking the bottles from me, “Wonderland...BDSM...it’s not exactly an easy thing to talk about.”

She stormed off to the kitchen, pulling down wine glasses with more force than necessary and popping the cork aggressively. In all the years I’ve known Emily, I’d never seen her this irritated. I should have told her how I learned about the dungeon earlier—maybe she would have been more open with me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, plopping myself on her dark brown leather couch, “This is me trying to be funny and it wasn’t.”

Emily poured a generous amount of wine from her glass and into the second one—her easy going personality was quickly replaced by something anxious. Is it truly that difficult to talk about BDSM with other people? She could have shared this side of herself with me and I wouldn’t have cared. Though stepping into Wonderland and being there did make me feel a bit out of place, so maybe that’s how she’s feeling.

After a moment, she took a big sip from her glass, then sighed, “I know you just joking, but this has thrown a huge wrench in my gears.”

“But why though?” I asked.

Emily looked me in the eyes, searching for something—maybe a sign that she could trust me with the truth.

“Leather and lace, dominant and submissive, nipple clamps and handcuffs—BDSM is my scene and have been for the last seven years,” Emily confessed, taking another swig of wine.

“You're a dominatrix.”

“No,” she paused, “Well, not exactly.”

“Okay, so what exactly is your role?”

Emily didn’t strike me as someone who’d take orders easily.

“I’m more of a submissive dominant,” she explained.

“So, you tell men to do things to you?”

“Basically, yes.”

“How did you get into all of this? Does one just stumble into it by accident, or was it something you’ve always felt drawn to?” I asked.

If her story turned out to be anything like the character Anastasia, with its clichés, I’d call her out immediately.

“Long story short, I had an ex-boyfriend who wanted to spice things up. He tied me down, blindfolded me, and used a flogger he had purchased off of Amazon. After that experience, I wanted more and he didn’t,” she said with a shrug, then turned on some background music.

“That’s it?” I said, a little let down” I said,

I wasn’t expecting much, but still.

She shook her head.

“Let’s talk about your experience. Tell me everything!”

“Um...where to begin? Well, what’s the deal with the damn creepy doorman? ‘Password’?” I asked, making a face.

She laughed, nudging my foot with her hand, “No one knows his name. He’s a mystery even to us regulars. The top masters and mistresses know, but they’re not telling.”

“You met Lady Scarlet, right?” Emily asked.

“The blonde with the annoying personality?” I clarified.

“She’s not annoying, she’s just...learning,” Emily said, trying to defend her.

“Learning to be less intimidating?” I asked.

“Something Like that,” Emily said, rolling her eyes, “Who else did you meet?”

“Master Leo,” I said.

Emily’s eyes widened, her expression morphing into something between shock and jealousy. Was it forbidden to mention him outside Wonderland? If this was another rule, it’s a dumb one.

“Have you not met him? I thought there was a sense of community at the dungeon,” I said, confused.

“We rarely interact with other people’s masters or mistresses, let alone submissives. It’s a respectable thing. We mostly see each other at functions or around town—none of us have ever met Master Leo.”

“Really? None of you have ever been in the same room?” I asked, shocked.

Emily shook her head, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. Should I feel special?

I thought back to my encounter with Master Leo—the intense eye contact, his confident demeanor, the power he seemed to command. There was something magnetic about him, and Emily’s reaction only made it more intriguing.

“What did he look like? How was he?” she asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

“I’ve never been into blondes, but there something about him...He’s got these full lips and soft blue angelic eyes I’d be happy to just stare into, and—” I cut myself off, realizing I was getting carried away.

“Seems like someone was attracted to Master Leo,” she giggled.

“No,” I said, laughing with her.

Could I be, though?

The man was built.

His broad shoulders met his pronounced chest with ease leading you down to his trim waist. God, I wanted to tear off all his clothes and ride him until he busted his load deep inside, making every inch of body quiver.

“Hello?!” Emily said, waving her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my deep dirty thoughts, “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere,” I said hastily.

“Did he say anything to you?” she pressed, still eager for details.

“Yeah, he basically just answered my questions, and remembered Trey. He seemed to get offended easily, though, especially when I spoke about BDSM.”

“What did you say?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing bad. I wasn’t judging him or anyone or anything. I referred to BDSM as ‘a thing’,” I said, a little defensively.

Emily gave me a look like she was trying to determine whether I was being sincere. Looking back on the conversation with Leo, his behavior doesn’t make any sense. I wasn’t personally attacking his establishment or those who attend it. I was merely stating it wasn’t my scene and apologizing for what my friend did.

“Were you? Being judgemental, that is?”

“No!” I insisted, “There was no reason for it.”

“Sorry to doubt you, I’m just surprised you and Master Leo were even in the same room together,” Emily said, almost in awe.

I don’t understand why she was treating him like a celebrity. Master Leo has been rude, confrontational, and honestly made me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s why no one ever sees him—he avoids people because of his attitude.

“I didn’t know dungeons did gift certificates,” I said, changing the subject.

“They don’t. What Trey just paid for a session,” Emily explained, “They probably paired you with some master who is extremely vanilla. Just enough to give you a good time.”

Thinking about it now that Emily kind of explained it a bit better, it didn’t sound too bad. Maybe I shouldn’t pass on this whole dungeon idea. Who was I kidding, though? I’d walk into a room and there’d be some guy who looked like he escaped from American Horror Story, whip in hand.

No thanks.

“I think I’m going to pass on the whole thing. It might be your cup of tea, Em, but the more we talk about it, the less I find it appealing,” I admitted.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she teased.

“I still have it,” I laughed, “It just doesn’t involve calling someone ‘sir’ while they paddle my ass.”

Emily shifted in her seat, giving me a look that said I’d be missing out.

“What are you going to tell Trey?” she asked.

“Good question. I’m not sure yet. I haven’t spoken to him since I found out what the white card is attached to Wonderland. The session he got me sounds expensive, and knowing his budget, he should get a refund or take it himself.”

Trey was going to be upset, but he should’ve known better than to get me something so extreme.

Before calling it a night, Emily and I shared another hour together, discussing her experiences at Wonderland. Knowing this side of her brought us closer. It’s crazy to think of her in that way—mad props to her honestly.

When I got hom, I was still buzzing from the wine and conversation. I lay down on the couch to settle for a minute before getting ready for bed, but my mind kept drifting back to Master leo. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him.

Just the thought of him...

“So fucking hot,” I muttered.

I thought about him—his commanding presence, the way his hands would roam over my body, gripping me with a mix of power and tenderness. My imagination ran wild: his hot breath against my neck, that deep voice growling in my ear, telling me exactly what he wanted to do to me. I imagined his fingers gripping my hair, pulling my head back as his tongue traced along my throat.

Before I knew it, my hand was between my legs, rubbing my cock and teasing it over my jeans—I couldn’t help it. Fumbling with the button of my jeans, I freed my cock, the heat of my arousal radiating as it stood fully erect. I spit into my palm, creating a slick layer of lubrication, and wrapped my hand tightly around my shaft, caressing myself—each stroke slow and torturous.

My mind filled with the thought of Master Leo, his body pressed against mine, his hips grinding, his cock demanding access.

“From now on, call me sir,” I imagined him whispering in my ear, his voice dripping with authority, the kind that made my entire body tremble in submission.

I imagined his firm grasp enveloping my hips as he pressed his thick, hard cock against my tight hole, slowly pushing forward, stretching me inch by inch. The burn was exquisite, the sensation of being filled overpowering. It’s bewildering that I find myself jerking off to this overbearing individual, this man whose dominance both intimidated and thrilled me. It’s uncharacteristic of me to feel drawn to a man who barks commands, whose pleasure comes from seeing me writhe under him, but fuck, it made me ache for more.

The vision unfolded further as he intensified his thrusts, each one more forceful, sending waves of pleasure through my body. His hand gripped my shoulder firmly, pulling me back against him, asserting more control. My moans grew louder, a shameless hum of my desire and submission. Master Leo’s other hand reached around to stroke my cock, his rough, calloused palm creating a delicious friction.

I could feel my orgasm building, the tightness in my balls growing unbearable. Using my other hand, I raised my shirt over my head, my body tensing as I continue to imagine him whispering filthy words into my ear, his hips relentlessly slamming into me.

“I’m going to cum inside you,” he said, a bit out of breath.

“Please, sir, I want you to fill me with your load.”

“You want it?”

“Yes, sir, please give it to me,” I begged.

His throbbing cock filled me deeper and harder, hitting my g-spot repeatedly. Pleasure surged through my body as I moaned louder each time. I inserted my first and middle fingers into my mouth, slicking them, before delving them into my hole as I felt myself approaching climax while my other hand worked tirelessly to intensify the strokes, determined on getting myself to cum harder than ever before.

I settle deeper into my couch, my breath growing shallower as I focus on how Master Leo reaches orgasm.

“I’m getting close,” I say loudly, keeping my eyes shut and focusing on my dirty thoughts.

“You want us to cum together, don’t you?” Master Leo asks in a direct voice.

He gazes at me instantly, his hand grabbing my waist possessively, “I want to feel you quiver and moan as we both climax,” he tells me, his words dripping with desire.

Master Leo’s commanding voice echoes in my mind, instructing me on how he wants to possess me. My body aches as I devour his intoxicating words, eagerly awaiting to fulfill every carnal request.

With bated breath and my eyes now open, I watch as my release splatters across my bare chest. My fingers continue to plunge relentlessly into my eager hole, milking every last drop of ecstasy.

“Fuck,” I said to myself in a shallow breath, looking over at the mess made on my chest and stomach.

My load exploded out of me with an intense force, leaving me panting and spent, craving more from my dominating fantasy.

I’m pretty tame when it comes to my solo-sessions, but the thought of Master Leo got my juices flowing like never before. I couldn’t resist touching myself, imagining his strong hands on me and his commanding voice in my ear.

With a devilish grin, I strip off my shirt revealing my glistening sweaty body, sensually wiping up the hot cum that shot from the top of my chest trailing down to my throbbing cock.

Bunching up the soft cotton shirt and with a quick glance over my shoulder, I flung it in the general direction of the laundry room, along with my jeans and underwear. The sound of the clothes hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment, before settling into a peaceful stillness once again.

Standing up from the couch, I immediately make my way to a hot shower, eager to clean up and call it a night.