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It was probably easier to get into the White House, McKenna thought to herself as they continued down a narrow corridor that would lead to The Club @ Club Destiny. Yes, she learned earlier that this risqué, off the grid place had been dubbed The Club by the members. And if they would ever actually get in there, she might be a little more excited.
So, after the first security coded entrance – which she quickly learned was manned by an armed security guard and required each person enter their own personally assigned code – there were two additional doors that required more codes, but these were tricky ones because they were personally assigned based on the member's application and the questions were random. McKenna had filled out all of the necessary paperwork with Luke earlier which allowed her this one time only entry.
By the time they finally arrived at the actual club’s main entrance, they were required to show ID which was scrutinized more by the club’s security than even the TSA at the airport.
Once McKenna stepped inside, she immediately realized what all the fuss was about. And yes, this was definitely what these members paid for. From where she stood, it appeared to be one open room, probably close to four thousand square feet if she had to guess.
To her immediate right and left, there were bars, but these weren’t just any bars. The front and top were made of glass, outlined in neon LED lights – one pink and the other blue. Behind the bar, the wall was one solid mirror with short, glowing glass shelves the same color as the respective bar, randomly placed holding three liquor bottles on each shelf. And, if that wasn’t enough to catch someone’s attention, the bartenders at each bar definitely would.
The bar on the left – outlined in blue LED lights – was obviously for the men – or at least for the men who were seeking women. The bartenders - two of them - were wearing bras that were anything but. They were made out of slinky chains, and they wrapped around the full naked breasts of each woman. Through the glass, McKenna could see that each woman also wore thigh high black boots and the tiniest scrap of lace in the form of a G-string.
As for the bar on the right – outlined in pink LED lights – there were two men who either lived in the gym when they weren’t working, or were just blessed with amazingly good genes. To her surprise, they were actually wearing more than the women. Both wore a pair of faded, well-worn blue jeans that rode low on their lean hips. Of course, they were shirtless, but both men had a collar around his neck. And not like the Chippendale’s collars. No, these were leather dog collars.
McKenna couldn’t stop herself from staring at any of them. The women were exotically beautiful, and the men were mouthwateringly scrumptious. She should’ve known.
There was barely enough light in the entire space to see much of what was going on, and with the concrete floors that appeared to be painted black and the walls that sported the same dark color, McKenna’s eyes had to adjust, especially after having been drawn to the bright LEDs.
When Tag took her hand, she turned her attention to him, realizing he was staring at her. She smiled up into his handsome face, suddenly thankful for his presence as it brought her a sense of security she hadn’t realized she would need.
“Ready?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure whether she knew the answer to that question. Suddenly she was feeling a little bowled over by everything she was going to find here. Instead of answering, she nodded her head in agreement, and then followed him as he led her on a tour of the spacious club.
Above her, McKenna noticed there were rooms made of glass on walkways that outlined the perimeter of the club on two additional levels. On the ground floor, there were two large rooms at each of the back corners made entirely of glass. From the looks of it, there was absolutely no privacy whatsoever to be found within the space. She hadn’t really expected any.
Scattered throughout were black leather chairs, sofas, and even what appeared to be round futons made of the same dark fabric. Not that she could see much of the furniture for the multitude of bodies that were everywhere.
Down the center, four steel poles went from floor to ceiling, holding two metal cages on each – one above the other. In those cages were both men and women, with only one person in each and every single one of the occupants completely naked. A couple of them were dancing to the erotic music that pulsed throughout the club, a few were pacing back and forth, and a couple of them even appeared to be masturbating, but they were all doing something to entertain the crowd below them.
Tag didn’t seem to be interested in explaining anything to her, or maybe he just figured that it was self-explanatory. Either way, he kept his hand in hers and held her close to his side as they walked around the perimeter of the main floor.
Once they arrived at one of the large glass rooms at the back, McKenna realized the reason for most of the security. Inside the room was a beautiful woman. No, maybe that wasn’t an apt description. She was more stunning than anything else. Thigh high boots with at least five inch heels, a leather halter, a skimpy G-string that was held together by chains and a wicked looking leather whip made up her outfit and the woman did not look like one to mess with. Her hair was long, straight and jet black while her skin was like creamy alabaster. Severely cut bangs covered her forehead, while her lips were painted a vivid, glossy red. The woman looked... untouchable.
Standing before her was another woman, completely nude and chained to hooks that were hanging from the ceiling and sticking up from the floor. Her arms were directly above her head, but her legs were spread wide. Her back was to the crowd and her bottom was lined with bright red whelps. In front of her, where the audience could see clearly, there was a naked man on his knees, his hands behind his back and his tongue between the woman’s thighs.
McKenna would admit that the scene was intensely graphic and more than a little arousing. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, and when the obvious Dominatrix lifted the whip and struck the other woman again, McKenna didn’t even flinch.
Tag either didn’t find the scene appealing, or he was more interested in showing her the rest. McKenna followed behind him when he tugged on her arm, successfully breaking her concentration on the sexually stimulating group behind the glass.
When they approached the other glass room, McKenna found herself equally as drawn to it. Before her were two well built, extremely handsome men, and one lone female. This one resembled normal, everyday porn, except the reactions of the participants was much more... unscripted.
“Are these actors?” she asked Tag.
“No. These are members,” he replied, looking down at her. “They can reserve the rooms, and these two are actually booked out for months.”
McKenna could understand that. This was a fetish club. The members were here for one reason only, and that was to experience the sexual gratification that they longed for. It was intense, intriguing, and downright sexy as hell.
Turning her attention back to the two men in the glass room, McKenna watched as one man rammed his cock into the other man’s ass, his hands gripping the other man’s shoulders as he continued to thrust hard and fast while the woman sat at the top of the bed, watching, masturbating. McKenna wondered whether the woman was the wife of one of them, and the man was living out his fantasy.
Either way, it was hot.
~*~*~
Tag glimpsed the scene before him, noticing that it was one of the many he’d seen before. Considering he’d been involved with Sam and Logan for the past few months, he hadn’t come to The Club recently, but standing here now, he realized that he might very well be a little desensitized when it came to this place.
Not that the sight before him wasn’t erotic as hell, and he knew the people were fulfilling one or many fantasies all at the same time, but he just wasn’t interested. Now, McKenna, on the other hand, appeared to be riveted to the threesome before her, just as she had been to Mistress Serena in the other room.
He wasn’t into it tonight and maybe that’s because of the confusing urge to lock McKenna up and keep her for himself that had taken him by surprise just a short while ago.
Possessive? Yes, he appeared to have developed a sudden longing to ensure no other man – or woman – ever took part in the pleasure that only McKenna could bestow upon them. He wanted her all to himself.
And wasn’t that just fucked up crazy?
Tag had always been the dominant partner, yet with McKenna, he had met his match. She was in no way submissive, and in many ways he figured she could give him a run for his money. And it fucking turned him on.
Now that didn’t mean he’d lost every kinky desire he’d ever harbored because truth be told, he wouldn’t have any problem taking her to one of the rooms upstairs, slowly removing every last stitch of clothing she had on and ravishing her while others watched. That’s one kink he doubted he would ever get over.
But sharing her with another person was not going to happen. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
When she looked up at him, he could damn near taste the lust pulsating through her veins. This turned her on. Was it the voyeuristic aspect? Or did she fantasize about herself inside of one of those rooms living out her deepest, darkest fantasies?
Tag didn’t know the answer to any of the questions that plagued him, but he did know that before he took McKenna to view the upstairs rooms, he wanted to introduce her to Mistress Serena – the woman in charge of The Club. While they waited for her to be finished with her subs, Tag took McKenna back to the bar.
“What would you like?” he asked, realizing he wasn’t quite sure whether she drank anything more than wine.
“Vodka and Seven please,” McKenna told the bartender when she approached.
The music was loud, but not too loud that they couldn’t have a civil conversation, so as they waited, Tag turned to her. “What do you think so far?”
“It’s... interesting.” Her smile had the ability to make his blood boil.
“Just interesting?”
“Do you want my professional opinion, or my personal one?”
“What’s the difference?”
“If I look through my professional lens, I could describe every nuance and detail down to what the women and men in the cages are doing right at this very moment. Or even the group settled on the large round sofa in the center of the room. If I look through my personal lens, I’d tell you that it’s interesting in a fetish club sort of way.”
“So, are you saying this doesn’t turn you on?” he asked, taking the two drinks the bartender sat in front of him and slipping her a twenty dollar bill as a tip. The drinks were free in the club, but the tips were appreciated.
“It absolutely turns me on,” she clarified. “But that doesn’t mean it’s something that appeals to me right now.”
“Do you like being watched?”
That was part of the intrigue of the club, he knew. The voyeuristic aspect – the watching and being watched – was what most people really sought when they came to a place like this. There were the hardcore masochistic types, and before the night was through, he was sure they’d see some things that would damn near blow her mind.
Because it was dark, Tag couldn’t tell whether his question made McKenna blush or not, but he could see from the look in her eyes that she was hesitant in answering him.
“Do you?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
Tag fought the urge to pull her against him right then and there and do to her the things he’d dreamed about since the day he met her. Instead, he kept his distance, leaving the few inches between them as he glanced back at the first room, noticing Mistress Serena was, in fact, coming out of the room.
And walking directly toward them.
Tag saw McKenna’s eyes widen as Mistress Serena approached, holding a stainless steel whipping rod in her hand.
“Mr. Murphy, I see you brought your guest.” Mistress Serena’s sultry voice was surprisingly calmer than he was used to, and he noticed she seemed more fixated on McKenna. Tag wondered whether it was the immensely dominating personalities that both women exhibited.
Did Mistress Serena see McKenna as a threat? The thought intrigued him.
“McKenna Thorne, meet Mistress Serena. She’s in charge of The Club.”
“Nice to meet you,” McKenna replied, not holding her hand out or moving in any way.
Tag watched in amazement as McKenna kept her eyes up and locked with the Domme’s. Most people, it didn’t matter whether it was a man or a woman, seemed to lower their eyes when Mistress Serena scrutinized them.
Tag glanced over, witnessing the small smile on Mistress Serena’s lips and the way she held the whipping rod close to her chest as though fearful she might just use it unexpectedly.
“Will the two of you require a room this evening?” Mistress Serena asked, not directing the question to either one of them specifically.
“Yes,” Tag replied. He wasn’t completely sure they would be using it, but he was definitely going to show McKenna one of the rooms at the minimum.
If he had anything to say about it, she might just become familiar with it while they were there.