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He begged to disagree.

A velvet rope can be strung across the opening to indicate that the occupants do not wish to be disturbed, at least physically. Except for a couple of alcoves with folding screens, there is no visual privacy. And even on those with screens, there is no audio privacy. Sometimes the sounds coming from behind those screens are the most exciting thing in the room.
About half of the alcoves contain nothing but a large, comfortable couch. The other half all have some kind of apparatus-massage tables, stocks, whipping benches, overhead manacles, sex slings, etc. I'm an engineering kind of guy and love inventing sexually stimulating contraptions. My latest is a padded horse mounted on a dolly that can be pushed out of the alcove and around the room. The victim (male or female, but usually female) is bound to the horse, bent over on their stomach with their ass in the air. The Dom can wheel the unfortunate from alcove to alcove, or up the bar, unveiling the target for others to feel and spank.

Another special touch that I am proud of is the availability of numerous silk scarves and drapes. Victims seems to lose their clothes quickly, and it's much sexier to see them partially covered, temporarily of course.

Everything is in order. I open the bar, put out the ice buckets, and adjust the lighting. A flick of a switch and suggestive Asian music purrs in the background. We are ready for the first guests of the evening.


My friends are already seated in a booth when I join them.

"Maria you look amazing," Monica says. "Since working at that construction company you look so much more beautiful and self-confident."

"Oh my god, I love the job. The work itself is easy I could do it with my eyes closed. In a week I picked up all the construction lingo. And Mr. Morgan is a dream. He is completely bald, and you know how I love bald men.

Lucy laughs. "Maria you and bald heads. Give me a curly head of hair anytime."

"I don't know," snickers Monica. "All that sensitive skin can be a great playing field. Once there was this guy..."

Lucy throws up her hands in mock displeasure. "Oh spare us, Monica. Half of your stories are cooked up in your imagination, and the other half are dullsville. I want to hear more about Sir Morgan."

My ears perk up. "Why do you call him SIR Morgan?"

"Oh my dear, there are rumors. Haven't you heard? They say he has a very intimidating personality."

"Well, he hasn't been that way with me."

"That's probably because he respects your abilities and doesn't want to lose you. His company is growing by leaps and bounds, and he needs good people. But time will tell. Sooner or later he will test you."

I take in what Lucy says. She had had some experiences with dominating men. Secretly I have envied her. "I'll try to be prepared," I laugh.

"Tell us more about what he is like," Monica prompts. "Does he have tattoos?"

"Well, obviously I haven't seen his whole body, but there are beautiful, subtle pictures on his forearms. They look like they have been there for a long time."

Lucy sighs. "Sounds heavenly. Is he showing any interest in you?"

"Well... he has looked me over a few times... when he thought I wouldn't notice."

"We always notice," says Monica. "You should give him a look back. You know... just to show him you're not a prude."

"I don't want to do anything to jeopardize this job. We have been so busy. Just this afternoon I took a call from an architect who wants to include us in his bid for new office building. He had to have documents from us today... OH MY GOD..."


"I forgot to fax the documents! I them all ready, but left them on the table by the machine. Normally the secretary would do it, but she left early. Oh shit, I am in big trouble!"

"Why don't you just go back and do it? Do you have a key?"

"Yes, I have a key. I usually open the place in the morning. But I'm not supposed to ever go back after five o'clock on Fridays."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. But Mr. Morgan was very emphatic."

Lucy grabbed my wrist.

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