I really should space my blog posts out better, but when I have an idea I get impatient. I've just penned this somewhat silly bit of 500-word flash fiction. I'm never likely to write a 'serious' story set in a BDSM club, but this just popped out. It's very tongue-in-cheek:
Cassie was repeating her safeword silently to herself in her
mind as the taxi pulled up at the club. "Goldfish, goldfish, goldfish." But she
kept her jaw locked shut to stop it escaping. She would not let this beat her. She
knew she could do it. She could just imagine the look on everyone’s faces
though – the shock, the sniggers. Her cheeks reddened at the very thought. These
people were friends and more than friends, fellow kinksters who gathered once a
month for a private play party where they could try new things, new equipment,
learn from each other.
But worse than the image of their gaping was the thought
that Lee was having a joke at her expense. He’d been smirking to himself since
he first dangled them in front of her face at home as they’d got ready. In all
the things they’d done together, laughing at her had never featured.
He helped her out of the cab and she put on her best
five-inch-heels swagger. Lee liked her in heels and had perfected the art of
incorporating them into her bondage. She thought he might have something of
that kind in mind tonight, something that would draw a little crowd around them
as he showed them where the ropework started, which knots to use, talking over
her as if she were a plastic dummy.
He took her coat from around her shoulders at the front desk
and handed it to the attendant. She took in a deep breath and allowed him to
urge her forward with a hand on the top of her back. A bouncer swung open the
door and she walked in. She wondered if she could sidle down the side
of the room before anyone noticed them, but Lee had other ideas.
He steered her to a clear space in the middle of the room, a
space that would become occupied later, but which, for now, had been left empty
while people sat at the round tables surrounding it.
“Stay there. I’m going to the bar.”
She stood, back straight, cheeks flushed. It wasn’t the
shoes that were padlocked to her ankles, it wasn’t the fishnet stockings or the
tiny leather shorts. It wasn’t the tightly laced corset that pushed her tits into
round globes – until someone unzipped the cups to expose them later. Not even
the leather collar locked around her throat. She waited for someone to notice.
Then it happened. A hush as general chatter stopped and little
whispers ran from table to table around her like a Mexican wave. She refused to
hang her head. She kept her chin up and tried to maintain a serene demeanour.
She heard a woman at a table behind her. “Are they... what I
think they are? Seriously? She’s wearing fluffy handcuffs? Here?” A pause. “They
are. They’re pink, fluffy handcuffs. I can’t believe it.”
Cassie could believe it. Lee had surpassed himself this
time. She’d never had the – was it luck or misfortune? – to be the sub of such
a ruthless sadist before.
****
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