Chapter 10
Isabelle
The morning leading up to my tour of Purgatory is full of anticipation and excitement.
I can’t wait to see what the club has to offer and meet potential play partners.
Finding a new sex club is like trying to find a new family.
It’s hard enough to find a boyfriend who is into the same kinks as you, but at least with a club, you can find sexual partners who are on the same page who respect boundaries.
Most importantly, it would be in a place where safety is a high priority.
Pouring my coffee, I turn to offer Victoria a top-up.
She mumbles and nods vigorously, pushing her cup towards me, her mouth full of a breakfast sandwich from the local café.
We stayed up late last night and sank a whole pitcher of homemade margaritas, catching up on gossip whilst watching Practical Magic, one of our comfort films. A lie-in was sorely needed after that.
Yes, Miss
“Have you got an outfit for today, or are you going casual?” she asks, wiping ketchup from the corner of her mouth.
“Well, I’m thinking if we like the place, we can stay for a bit and check out the members. See if there’s anyone who catches our eye. So, I’m going dressed up. First impressions count after all.” I wink at her, blowing over my coffee to cool it.
She nods thoughtfully and smiles. “Latex it is then. I've brought an outfit with me. A dominatrix shouldn’t go anywhere without her magic cloak.”
We finish up our lunch and head upstairs to get ready.
Victoria seems to have commandeered the spare room, and as I walk in, I look around in shock.
She’s already hung up two latex catsuits, one with dozens of zips and buckles, the other sleek with black satin ribbons as fastenings. She calls that her romantic catsuit.
Besides her outfits, she has brought her own furry throw for the bed along with a couple of cushions, and she’s draped the curtain rail with fairy lights.
“Erm, Vic, you moving in?” I ask, my hands on my hips as I turn to face her.
“What? You think you’re moving away, and I’m not gonna come stay? I may as well make myself comfortable!”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
I start laughing and wrap my arms around her, so thankful to have her in my life. I hold on that little bit longer, and she relaxes in my arms, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I miss you, you know,” she says quietly.
“You daft cow… I’m here. I’m not too far away,” I reply, my voice cracking with emotion. I miss her too. She got me through so much, holding me when I cried and cheering me on when I did well. She is the best friend I could have ever asked for.
“Right, come on. Let's get ready to go out. Best tits forward.” She exclaims as she pulls away and wipes a tear from her eye. "I do hope you won't be too disappointed if you don't find someone who fits your particular taste."
I shrug, a confident smirk on my face. "I'm sure there will be at least one or two who catch my eye. If Dominic says it's a good club, I trust him."
I switch on the music as I rifle through my wardrobe for the outfit I have in mind. My showtunes playlist starts, and I smile as Fiyero’s—'Dancing Through Life’ from Wicked comes on, and I picture Jonathan Bailey and his slutty little glasses. No one is immune to that sexy image.
I dress in my black satin corset dress. The pencil skirt of the dress comes down to just below my knee, giving me a snug hourglass shape. The top of the dress has an off-
Yes, Miss
the-shoulder swathe of satin that wraps around my shoulders but dips down into the top of the sweetheart neckline corset that lifts my breasts into a deliciously plump swell.
Its strong steel bones give a cinched waist with flared hips.
The delicate black brocade satin and black satin ribbon lacing down the back add subtle elegant detailing.
I wear my signature seamed stockings and black patent leather heels.
My outfits always leave me feeling confident and powerful.
“You ready, sweet cheeks?” Vic shouts from the bathroom.
I walk out to the hallway and come face to face with a vision of black shiny latex, buckles, dark smoky eyes, and deep red lips.
Vic is sexy as fuck when she is dressed up like this.
If we weren’t both totally straight, I would be all over her like that latex catsuit.
She wanted to join me today, as they do guest passes, and she likes the idea of a second playground.
I’m not entirely sure I’d enjoy my time at a club without her at my side. She’s my wingwoman. I love her like the sister I’ve never had. She’s my family.
She had helped me so much when I started at Plush.
She taught me everything I know about becoming a Domme and helped me gain my confidence with sex after Matt.
Being in control helped me and still does.
She saw this in me and nurtured it gently.
Victoria was the Domme people always pictured. She loves the latex, the chains and
Alexandra Ravensbrook
the whips. She loves treating men like dirt. You wouldn’t think it by the way she dresses outside the club, all sweetness and light and pretty dresses. Victoria is petite and elfin-like, with beautiful long dark hair and fine features.
She is a force to be reckoned with, though. God forbid you cross her.
I found my style over time with Victoria as my mentor. I can always talk to her about anything, bounce ideas off her, work through tricky situations, and cry when I need to.
I prefer being a sub’s goddess. I want control. I want to be worshipped. And let's face it, what woman doesn’t want to be worshipped in one form or another? I want to demand and give pleasure until he begs and pleads for me to let him come.
She links her arm in mine as we grab our coats and leave the house.
We arrive at the address given for the club.
Not that you would know this place is a sex club.
It’s a large, white, three-storey townhouse with stone steps leading up to a black gloss door with a traditional brass knocker.
There are no signs or advertisements anywhere.
Nothing to give the place away. Upon closer inspection though, the brass knocker turns out to be a hand holding a coiled whip. Clever.
Yes, Miss
We rap on the door with the whip knocker and wait.
The door opens, and a smartly dressed woman greets us with a bright smile and steps back, ushering us in.
“Please, come in. I’m Chloe, your hostess for this evening.”
We enter the large foyer of Purgatory, Victoria striding ahead, removing her long wool coat to reveal her catsuit and thigh-high killer-heeled boots.
When Victoria comes out to play, she means business.
Our hostess checks our IDs and health screening results, taking copies for our membership file.
She hands us a sheaf of forms and a waiver to sign before giving us a quick rundown of the club's rules.
Once we’re all sorted, she leads us on a tour of the various rooms and areas of the club, each designed for different types of kink play. There’s a spacious dungeon area with all sorts of furniture for bondage and impact play, as well as private rooms for more intimate activities.
One room catches my attention immediately—the main bar area with four mini stages set up in the corners of the room, each with seating available and soft, intimate lighting.
Chloe explains that these are open areas for those who want to put on a show.
I’ve always loved that side of my play. Having people watch, feeling their eyes on us, the tension building, the joy from the crowd at the eventual climax. Putting on a show is in my blood.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Victoria chuckles beside me. "Well now," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "We may have found our next outing."
Our hostess leads us down the long hallway, the dark parquet flooring lined with a thick burgundy carpet runner, sconces against the walls casting a warming glow.
Thick wooden doors open to reveal playrooms with various equipment, from a large bed with satin sheets to another with a St. Andrew’s cross and spanking bench.
Glistening hooks on the wall hold crops, paddles, and whips of various sizes, thicknesses, and lengths.
The final room at the end has a large glass window, the glow from the lamps inside soft but enough to light up the whole room, with no shadows to escape to.
We continue through the rest of the club, taking note of all the amenities, such as lockers for personal items and cleaning supplies and snacks for aftercare. Everything seems to have been thought of, right down to the last detail.
The atmosphere is elegant. Timeless, yet edgy with its subtle touches like neon accent lights—just how I like it.
We finish our tour back at the front desk, the hostess asking if we want to stay to attend the upcoming event this evening.
It’s a special night where members are being taught a master class in wax and needle play by a local expert.
We accept and take seats at the bar, both of us completing our membership paperwork.
Yes, Miss
The buzzing, itchy feeling I’ve had gnawing at me starts to settle. I’ve not had any play partners for a few months with the move, and this woman is desperately in need of some action. I send a silent prayer of thanks to Dominic. The man never steers us wrong. I think I have found my new club.