A Masochist’s Adventures in Wonderland
Good morning, faithful readers. As promised, this is the first chapter in a series that will become a serialized novel. So this is the opening setup chapter. I know you are all waiting for the erotica part. This is the opening plot point. The sex part will start in chapter 2 following our character from total newbie to experienced masochist sub/slave. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you again for reading.
Just a reminder that you can PM me to receive my darker work that is restricted from this platform. I'm starting another series there this morning as well, so let me know if you are interested.
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Chapter 1
My best friend Riley Hickock looked up into my eyes. “Ready?”
I nodded, puffed out my cheeks, and squared my shoulders. “Ready.”
“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” she told me.
I raised my clutch handbag, unsnapped it, and spread it open to show her what was inside.
She did the same thing and we both examined the contents of each other’s clutches.
Each clutch contained a .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol and a wallet folded back to reveal an identification card on one side and a gold law enforcement badge on the other.
Both badges bore the engraved inscription, Millford Police Department, across the top with the word, Detective, at the bottom.
My ID had my real name on it, Lucy Kelso, not the fake name I would be using tonight.
Each clutch also contained a cellphone switched to a GPS locator app that would track our movements.
Riley’s sharp eyes took in the contents of my clutch to make sure I had everything I needed. If this whole situation went down the sewer real quick, we would be ready.
Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but at least we would be prepared if it did.
My eye snapped from Riley’s sidearm to her badge, her ID, and her phone. We were both as ready as we would ever be.
We both snapped our clutches closed and Riley straightened up in front of me. She slid her hands down her sides and shimmied her hips back and forth while she tugged her little black dress into place.
We both wore little back dresses, but mine had a frill of ruffles around the bottom hem and thinner spaghetti straps. My dress cut horizontally across my cleavage with a gold teardrop necklace hanging around my neck.
Her dress had thicker straps that came together behind her neck. Her plunging neckline and the upward taper of her the strap around her neck formed a triangle of cleavage right in the middle of her chest.
We both wore black pumps, but mine were plain and understated. Hers were strappy with a buckle around the ankle.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“You look great,” I told her. “How do I look?”
“You look outstanding. Let’s go.”
We both turned toward the club in front of us. It wasn’t really a club at all. It was the downstairs lobby of a small, out-of-the-way hotel in a quiet part of town.
Walking into the building felt like walking into a sleepy old apartment complex—except for the bouncer at the door.
The big, muscular guy’s eyes flicked back and forth between Riley and me as we approached the door. “Are you ladies new here?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yes, we’re new,” I replied. “It’s our first time.”
He raised a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “Dom or sub?” he asked.
“I’m a sub.” I jerked my thumb at Riley. “She’s a dom.”
He marked something on his clipboard, stepped aside, and waved toward the door. “Go right on in. Enjoy yourselves. I’m sure the Dungeon Masters will introduce themselves to you. They always do when they see a new person.”
Riley entered first. We exchanged a glance as she opened the door and we went inside. Dungeon? Were we really going into a dungeon?
Whatever I may have heard or read about BDSM didn’t prepare me to actually walk into the club itself.
I had been preparing myself to walk into a dark, creepy, medieval stone cellar full of torture devices and horror scenes of mutilation and dismemberment.
The hotel lobby couldn’t have looked more ordinary with a bunch of couches and armchairs, a few padded leather benches under the windows, potted trees in the corners, carved stone and wooden coffee tables, and a bar against one wall.
There was even a bank of elevators at the far end of the lobby where people could ride up to the rooms in the upper floors. It was the most run-of-the-mill hotel lobby I had ever seen.
The people in the lobby also looked beyond ordinary. All the men wore suits. All the women wore either evening wear or just fancy party wear like Riley’s and my little black dresses.
We were the only two women in here wearing little black dresses, but we blended in perfectly with the dress code—whatever that was.
I didn’t see anyone who might be a Dungeon Master. The whole concept of a Dungeon Master didn’t really fit with this setting.
A few scenes of BDSM-related activity went on around the periphery of the room. Everyone else lounged around on the couches sipping their drinks and talking as if these scenes weren’t going on at all.
A man in a magnificent black tux held a woman down across a table in the corner. He clamped his fist in a handful of her hair, twisted her head back, and slashed her bare, upturned white ass with a black and purple cat-of-nine-tails.
The leather thongs and the small knots at their ends made brilliant dark lines of bruises across her pale skin. The knots made even darker dots where the knots bit deeper into her flesh.
The guy snarled down at her in a clenched undertone while he cut her again and again down her ass and started working on her thighs.
She yelled out every time he whipped her, but her cries sounded more like she was having an orgasm than struggling against something painful.
A different man in a regular suit stood near one of the lobby’s central support pillars. He gripped his hand around a woman’s throat while he hissed and growled in her face from inches away.
She wore a full-length shimmering silver gown with matching heels. Her bare thigh showed through a long slit in the side of her dress running all the way up to the hip.
She struggled against his hold and looked up at him with terrified, frantic eyes. He only grabbed her by the hair, crammed her head harder against the pillar, and went on snapping at her under his breath.
I couldn’t watch this, so I turned away looking around for something to do and maybe some sane person to talk to.
A piercing shriek set my hair on end. I looked in that direction before I thought to stop myself.
I instantly regretted it when I spotted another man strapped to what looked like an electric chair. Thick leather straps anchored his arms and legs in place so he couldn’t move.
He was stark naked with another leather strap buckled around his chest to hold him in place.
A hole had been cut out of the seat so his cock and balls hung down below the chair seat.
The chair had been built with some kind of clamp attached to the underside of the seat. The clamp locked around the guy’s balls while his cock hung free on top of the clamp.
A tall woman with sweeping black hair stood over the guy. Her tight black dress hugged a perfect, statuesque, hourglass figure all the way down to her ankles.
Her dress barely contained a full, stacked set of breasts that hovered right in front of the guy’s eyes.
She rested one hand on the back of the chair, bent over, and murmured to the guy in a soft, sultry undertone while she stroked his face, neck, and down his chest.
He panted, whimpered, and rolled his eyes in obvious distress, but she only smiled and even trailed her painted fingertips across his lips.
He barely had time to catch his breath before she stuck her hand down between his legs, took hold of the handle on the clamp, and turned it.
The guy gave a bone-chilling scream and collapsed sobbing and whimpering in the chair.
His reaction only seemed to delight the woman. Her eyes glowed. She leaned a little farther forward. Her body undulated with a ripple of excitement when she touched him again.
He was too out of his mind in pain even to notice how much she was enjoying this.
He tried to look everywhere else. His eyes raced around the lobby without seeing anything.
She clasped his jaw in one hand to turn his attention back to her. She tried to kiss him, but he was crying too hard to respond.
I turned away feeling sick. I didn’t come here to see that.
“Oooo!” Riley exclaimed. “Look at that cock and ball torture! I want to go check that out.”
She walked away and left me alone. I tried to block out the guy’s screams and went over to the bar instead.
The bartender was too busy serving other people to come over to me just yet, so I waited and tried to look around for someone to talk to.
Riley and I came to this club to investigate a murder. We were supposed to be trying to blend in, but I wouldn’t be able to question anyone if no one would talk to me.
Almost as if my thoughts made it happen, a guy in a beautiful blue suit shouldered up to the bar right next to me. He cracked a grin, looked down at me, and his bright blue eyes traced down my dress.
“Hello!” he exclaimed. “Are you new here?”
I tried to smile back “Yes. First time. It isn’t what I expected.”
He turned in my direction and leaned his elbow on the bar. He kept grinning like he just won the lottery. “What did you expect? Have you ever been to any play parties before?”
“No, this is my first time. I’m straight off the rack, you might say.”
He laughed and stuck out his hand. “I’m James. Nice to meet you.”
I shook his hand and pulled out the fake name I selected for tonight’s investigation. “I’m Mila.”
“So what brings you here?” he asked. “What got you interested in BDSM?”
“Actually, I’m here to find out if anyone knew Maynard Sutherland. He was found suffocated in his bedroom with a plastic bag tied over his head.”
James’s cheesy grin evaporated. He straightened up and turned to face the bar. “Yeah. I know. I heard about it.”
“His credit card records indicate he was a member of this club. Did you know him?”
“Yeah. I knew him.” James flagged the bartender. The guy was too busy to help him, too.
“The Police reports say there were no other fingerprints found in Mr. Sutherland’s apartment. Do you know what he was into? Do you know if he was into auto-asphyxiation or anything like that?”
“I couldn’t tell you that,” James replied without looking at me. “I never really got to know him well enough to find out what he was into.”
“Do you know if he was a dom or a sub?” I asked.
James finally glanced over at me, but he looked away immediately. “He was a switch. He went both ways depending on who he was playing with.”
“Did he do anything here at the club—anything that would indicate what he might be into or what he was looking for?”
“He never did anything here at the club. He came here to socialize. That’s all he ever did. I can’t remember him ever playing with anyone or even talking about playing with anyone. He barely noticed when other people played with each other.”
Now it was my turn to face the bar. That didn’t give me much to go on.
Maynard Sutherland could have been murdered in his bed by someone wearing gloves.
Or he could have asphyxiated himself accidentally. It wouldn’t be the first time history someone tried that and went too far.
I glanced over my shoulder. Riley stood over there by the cock and ball torture chair talking to the dominant woman. The poor victim struggled, grimaced, and roared in agony in front of both of them. Neither of them seemed to hear or even notice him.
Was Riley over there questioning that woman about Maynard Sutherland’s activities?
I turned my back on them trying to make up my mind what to do. I could go through this whole lobby and question everyone here about what Maynard Sutherland was into.
If no one knew—if he never played with anyone or talked to anyone about what he was into—then staying here would be a massive waste of time.
Before I could make up my mind about what to do, James took a step toward me and scooped his arm around my waist. “If you’ve never had a BDSM experience before, I could introduce you. Come back to my place and I’ll show you what it’s all about. Come on. I bet you’re dying to submit to the right man.”
I stiffened, but right at that moment, someone caught James by the collar of his jacket and physically hauled him off me.
I took a fraction of a second to realize it was the guy in the tux who had been whipping that woman just a few moments before.
The guy had salt-and-pepper grey hair, a short-clipped goatee turning white, and extremely hard black eyes.
He narrowed them in dangerous fury and yanked James away so hard he almost fell over. He would have fallen over, but the guy in the tux jerked him to his feet and marched him away.
“That’s your last warning, pal,” the guy in the tux growled. “I gave you too many chances already, but you just can’t keep your hands to yourself. You’re banned for a month. Go home and don’t come back until you learn how to follow the rules.”
I stared in flabbergasted shock as the guy dragged James struggling and protesting to the door. The guy shoved him outside and exchanged a few words with the bouncer before the guy in the tux came back in.
James stumbled into the street and immediately tried to turn around and push his way inside. The guy in the tux stood his ground to block the doorway, but he didn’t have to.
The bouncer stepped between the two men. James collided with the bouncer and stumbled back before the bouncer held him at arm’s length to stop him from trying again.
The guy in the tux glared at James once and then shut the door in his face. I watched the whole scene through the front lobby windows.
James stood out there for a minute staring at the closed door. Then his gaze darted to the window. He could see everything going on inside.
The bouncer didn’t move, and in a minute, James turned away and walked off.
The guy in the tux stormed back inside narrowing his eyes in fury. He clamped his lips shut and shook himself before he came over to me.
“I’m very sorry about that,” he muttered. “We have strict rules in the club about unwanted sexual advances. He’s been warned before. I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to stop him.”
I gulped. The guy’s dark, hard eyes kept darting all over the place while he got himself under control.
“Um…..thank you,” I stammered. “I wasn’t sure if I should break his kneecaps myself—but maybe he would have liked that.”
The guy’s head snapped around. He glared at me for a second and then burst out laughing. “Maybe you should have—and no, he doesn’t like it. He’s a dominant. He likes hurting other people. He doesn’t want anyone hurting himself, especially not a woman.”
He stuck out his hand.
“I’m Ash Keiff. I’m the Dungeon Master for tonight. It’s my job to make sure everyone plays safely and that all scenes are negotiated before anyone engages in anything physical.”
I found myself grinning at the guy for some reason. I put out my hand and yanked it back. “Are you sure this isn’t an unwanted sexual advance?”
He raised his hand in surrender. “No sexual advances intended—but we can negotiate a full, signed contract before we shake hands if that’s what you want.”
I grinned back at him and extended my hand again. “That won’t be necessary. I’m Mila.”
“Is this your first time here?” He snapped his fingers at the bartender. The guy dropped what he was doing and came over to serve Ash immediately. “Give her one, too.” Ash turned to me. “What are you having?”
“Anything non-alcoholic. I wouldn’t want anyone taking advantage of me.”
“Good thinking.”
The bartender scooped ice into a glass and poured in a dose of Shirley Temple mix. The guy served Ash a tumbler of pineapple juice. Then the bartender went back to what he was doing.
“Did you know Maynard Sutherland?” I blurted out. “The Police think his death may have been murder.”
Ash swirled his drink in his glass. “I know.”
“Do you know what he was into? Do you know if he was doing any kind of asphyxiation play with anyone that may have gone too far—or if he had any enemies who might have wanted to make it look that way?”
“Maynard didn’t come to the club to play. He came here to talk about anything other than that. He never played with anyone as far as I know.”
“So you don’t know if he was maybe into auto-asphyxiation on the side—like by himself?”
“Nope. I couldn’t tell you anything about Maynard’s kinks. No one in the club will be able to tell you that. He didn’t discuss it with anyone.”
My shoulders slumped. Shit.
I glanced over at Riley. She wasn’t talking to the dominant anymore.
Now Riley was the one who bent over the man strapped into the chair. He really was crying now with tears streaking down his cheeks.
Neither she nor the other dominant were turning the handle anymore to clamp the guy’s balls in a vise.
Riley was in the act of fixing some kind of metal clothespins to the guy’s nipples and the skin of his chest. The other woman stood off to one side and watched.
His ribs heaved with deep, racking sobs. Riley kept stopping what she was doing and stroking him all over before she attached the next clothespin.
Riley sure was taking this dominant thing to the limit, but she was into it before this case landed on our desks. I should have known better than to bring her here when we were supposed to be on the job.
Ash broke in on my thoughts. “What got you into BDSM?”
“I’m actually…..I’m actually not. I just read about it. I don’t really have any experience. That’s why I’m here—to find out about it.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Really? So….you’ve never played with anyone….ever?”
“Nope. I’m fresh off the rack you might say.”
He didn’t take the joke. He actually frowned. “Is that why you came here—to get experience—or did you just come to watch and talk to people?”
I opened my mouth and stopped myself. I couldn’t exactly come right out and tell this guy that I was a Police detective who came to the club to investigate Maynard Sutherland’s murder.
Ash noticed my hesitation. “Do you want to have experiences or are you still in the research phase?”
I shrugged and pretended to study my drink. “I don’t know.”
I became aware of him studying me extra closely. His black eyes flashed with a kind of intensity that made me uncomfortable. Could he tell that I was lying?
He finally straightened up, took another sip of his drink, and left it on the bar. “Come with me. I don’t feel right about a total newbie wandering around the club like this. Come over here. I want to talk to you before you get yourself into something you can’t get out of.”
End of Chapter 1.
