Chapter 2
two
. . .
Rae
A short woman with dark hair pulled back in a long curly ponytail takes over for Lila and calls for the next person to enter the room. I pick up the pace to catch up with her as she begins the tour.
“There are different floors of the lounge, and each one allows you to explore a new side of yourself,” Lila advises, gesturing to the buttons in the elevator. “Whether you’d like to fulfill fantasies, observe or practice kink, engage in self pleasure or even group scenes, you are free to indulge.”
As we pass several rooms, red and green doorknobs beam, indicating whether they are vacant or occupied. I notice glimpses of play behind curtains from members who prefer a bit more privacy than others.
Moans of pleasure harmonize through the halls, sending heat pooling into my lower belly as I consider what kind of adventure I will find myself in tonight. I pick up my pace so as not to get left by Lila, who continues her determined stride.
“Private rooms are available on each floor, whether you’d like some time to yourself or with partners. They are thoroughly cleaned and sanitized after each use. And we have plenty available whenever some are closed for cleaning.”
“Toys are readily available for your use. If there’s a toy you can’t find in your room, visit our Toy Chest over here,” she informs, waving at the handsome man behind the counter with sex toys lined up behind him like prizes you’d find at a carnival.
He greets us with a friendly smile. “That’s Evan. Sometimes you’ll see him here or in coat check. All of our staff wear badges with their names on glow-in-the-dark lanyards. Like this,” she advises, lifting her own badge as an example.
“Fun fact. Lilith’s was originally a jazz club and speakeasy that catered to everyone. Music allowed for a freedom of expression the world couldn’t provide at that time, and that’s how this all came to be.
The lounge was founded by the late Lilith Aurelia Maxwell. She was a world-renowned jazz vocalist and my great-grandmother. The Lounge didn’t cater specifically to kink until 1996 when my mother took over,” Lila shares, her tone filled with pride.
So, she is capable of sounding like a human.
I’m surprised she has all of this memorized and wonder how often she has to do these tours for newbies like me.
She pads through the building with quick steps, remaining forward, and as much as I mirror her actions, I am heavily distracted by the view around me.
The elevator stops, letting us off in a dimly lit hallway with members who are gathered around to watch people having sex. What is private to them is public to us. My eyes bounce around as we navigate the various halls and floors, and Lila’s calm tone remains as if we aren’t in the same place.
“Have you visited kink clubs before?” She asks, blatantly ignoring the couple having sex against the two-way mirror in front of us.
They’re hard for me to ignore, but I avert my eyes to her and answer. “I-uh. No. Actually, this is my very first time visiting one,” I share.
“Well, I’m honored you chose our club as your first and hope we exceed your expectations,” she replies calmly.
I hope so too.
Some rooms have two-way mirrors facing the halls with thick curtains for privacy, while others do not. Any members who don’t mind being seen have the curtains open for everyone to watch freely.
“The card I gave you earlier is specific to you and grants you entry to all floors and vacant rooms within the building. We ask that you please refrain from sexual activities in public areas, such as the lobby, bar, elevator, and restrooms. Should you have a preference for either, there are simulated rooms for those scenes on the Fantasy floor, where we are headed now.”
I nod, trying not to stare too much as I witness two women on their knees eating another woman out behind the glass. Seeing positions and scenes I’ve only fantasized about or looked up online happening before me is a surreal experience.
“If watching is your thing, I must recommend the theater,” she offers with a smirk, catching me ogling the women in front of us.
“The theater? Like a movie theater?” I ask curiously.
“Not necessarily. I’ll show you,” she suggests, leading me to what appears to be an auditorium.
“The theater is used for demonstrations or performances from our staff and esteemed members, but was designed for voyeurs and exhibitionists.”
I peek in to witness members on stage pleasuring each other, wails and screams are amplified here, seats are filled with spectators enjoying the show.
It’s intriguing. I never thought I’d be interested in watching before now, but I’m a fast learner, and studying more experienced people may help with my confidence sexually.
Lila clears her throat to regain my attention before shifting on her heels to continue the tour.
“If live music is your thing, I’d recommend the jazz bar on the rooftop. Rules still apply, and you are expected to refrain from sexual activities up there as well.”
I’m relieved once I spot a sign for the bar approaching. Hoping to kick off the night with a drink to calm my nerves before I step into the lion’s den.
The clacking of Lila’s heels halt, and she turns to face me.
“How are you feeling? Please be honest. I often breeze through these tours, forgetting that all of this can be overwhelming for a fresh fre–I mean, first timer,” she adds, correcting herself.
Fresh what?
“I’m feeling a little nervous, to be honest,” I admit.
“Ah! I must show you the bar. Always helps me loosen up.”
“That would definitely help,” I joke as she leads the way.
“You must wear one color-coded bracelet at a time, but you are free to swap to another color whenever you’d like. If, for any reason, you should misplace your bracelets, please contact a nearby attendant, and they will provide you with replacements,” she informs me.
I retrieve the handful of bracelets from my clutch, remembering the meanings of each color and pondering over which seems best.
I surprise myself when I slip on the orange one. Lila peeks back and quirks a brow, continuing the tour.
We step inside the bar, and the relaxed patrons are a stark contrast to what I’ve witnessed throughout the tour. This feels like the best place to psych myself up.
“There is a two-drink minimum at the bar, and tips are encouraged. To ensure both a safe and enjoyable experience, we expect each club and staff member to be treated with the utmost respect. Should this not be honored, all access to Lilith’s will be revoked indefinitely.”
“Understood,” I share, nodding my head.
“Lastly, I must ask you to repeat the universal safe word.”
“Apple,” I repeat, keeping my voice low so as not to alarm anyone.
“Very well, then. That concludes our tour. Feel free to explore.” She adds, glancing at my wrist with a soft smile.
“Thanks, Lila. I hope so too.”
“It was nice meeting you, Rae.”
“You as well,” I say as she exits the room.
I grab a seat at a vacant table nearby that overlooks the bar. Everyone is either immersed in conversation or people watching. I busy myself by reviewing the drink menu, desperately in search of liquid courage that I hope I find sooner than later. The plan tonight is simple.
Find something to drink.
Stay for a few hours.
Try to flirt with a woman.
Key word ‘try.’