Den of Iniquity Ch. 01

"Stuck in a rut Roger?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Good looking man like yourself should be getting what he wants Roger, not slowly dying of old age at... what are you? Forty-two?"

"Forty-three actually."

"You are in decent shape and reasonably well toned for your age. Stand up."

It wasn't a request.

"I don't think it's necess..."

"Just do it Roger, consider it a complimentary appraisal."

"A compli what?"

"Just stand up." I stood.

Chantelle sat in her chair and looked me up and down, carefully, slowly, for what seemed like minutes but was probably less than sixty seconds.

"Turn around."

"Oh c'mon is this really nece..."

"Just turn the fuck around Roger or this party could get a whole lot more expensive."

"Ok, ok, I've just never done catwalk work before..." I smirked.

"Don't like being on display Roger?" She said, rising from behind her desk.

"Not particularly."

She walked around her desk and up to me, leaning into me and pressing her breasts into the side of my chest and my arm. I thought for a moment she was going to kiss me. She whispered instead.

"I think there is a lot you aren't telling me Roger. And that's ok... But you should know that nothing is accomplished of any meaning by lying. Not that you are lying you understand Roger, but that you are refusing to acknowledge something."

Jesus, how could she tell. I'd had a raging erection in my pants since I entered Chantelle's office, and looking down it looked pretty prominent to me. I figured I better get out of there before I screwed anything up. Besides, I wanted to drop by Jeremy's and thank Claudio.

"I.. I really should be going..."

"Now, now Roger, we are not done here yet." She smiled and traced a fingernail across my back as she walked around me and I stood there practically trembling. "What do you know of what might go on here?"

"Here? You mean in your club?"

"Yes of course Roger, whatever else could I have meant?"

"Umm... well I guess you have an expensive clientele that has a hankering for some rather kinky and extreme fun. Something like that. You know, people dress up and pretend. Kind of like a fancy dress party every night."

"Hmmmm..."

"Look I really ought to get going."

"Do you want to fuck me Roger?"

"I.. I.. did I hear you right? I though you just asked if I wanted to... um... you know... have relations with you."

"It's called fucking Roger and that's exactly what I asked. I wasn't offering, I was just interested."

"Well er.. you do look pretty good."

"Thank you Roger. But do you want to fuck me?"

The hair was prickling on my neck. God I was so out of practice at this. I must have been blushing more than I realised.

"You do don't you!"

"Yes Chantelle, y.. you are an attractive woman."

"Say it."

"You want me to say I wa..."

"Yes say it."

"I want to fuck you."

"There now, that wasn't so hard was it." She giggled behind her hand as her eyes dropped to the tent in my pants. Oh god does it get any more humiliating? "Now, we have a number of things to discuss." She moved around her desk and sat down in her large leather high-backed chair.

"Is it ok if I sit down now?"

"Sure, I'm not stopping you."

This was fast becoming the weirdest conversation I had had in my entire life. I slipped into the hard chair in front of Chantelle's desk.

"What did you wish to discuss?"

"Well Roger, I think you and I should get a few things straight."

"Umm ok."

"Relax Roger. I am talking about perceptions, believing what you see, what you know to be true, and what you don't know to be true."

"I'm lost again."

"Do you think I am acting?"

"Acting?"

"Play-acting I believe you called it."

"No. I think you are an intense and perhaps firm person who is used to getting her own way."

"That is true."

"I like to think I am a good judge of people."

"How else do you like to think of yourself?"

"Um..." I was on the spot again, how did this keep happening? "Well, I have been in charge of over seventy men on construction sites, I have hired and fired over five hundred during my career... I've been a successful father of one son and an unsuccessful husband."

"You are unmarried?"

"Yes, divorced... been over a year now."

"And you don't have a girlfriend either?"

"Well, like I said, I've been in a bit of a rut."

"Ok. How about I tell you what I see."

"All right."

"Roger... I see a good looking man who is wasting precious time trying to conform to society's expectations of him. I see a man who desperately craves respect and acknowledgement for his achievements. I see someone who is naive in many ways but who sees himself as a man of the world."

"Jeez... and I thought *I* was a good judge. You could see all that?"

"Sure."

"So what are you saying?"

"I am saying that everything you have heard is probably true. The whip *is* swung lustily. The pain felt *is* real.... I have not met someone who is play-acting in several years, and if I did, they would not be a member of this club, that's for sure."

"How could anyone do that to someone for real?"

"Easy. One does it because it can be done."

"I'm not following you again." I was leaning forward, elbows on knees, very interested... it was a world I'd never seen up close before.

"One casts a whip across another's body only if that person agrees to that mode of punishment or play. Noone forces anyone to do anything without some kind of agreement being in place first."

"But what about the blood?"

"Blood?" She actually licked her lips.

"From the whipping..."

"You've been watching too many movies Roger. If the skin is broken it is tended to immediately. I won't have wanton violence in my club either."

"I see," I said. "So noone is given fifty lashes?"

"Certainly not with a single-tailed whip. With a flogger perhaps."

"A flogger?"

"A soft, multiple-tailed, short handled whip... just a moment, I'll get one." She arose and skirted around the end of the desk and over to the wall. She reached up and turned a key already in the lock of a wall-mounted cabinet. She took down from its mount exactly what she described. She stood beside me and handed it to me handle first. "Stand up. Swing it, feel it in your hand." I did.

"It's heavy."

"Yes that is a heavy duty flogger, more weight in the tails means less effort for the person swinging it." She smiled.

"I can understand that."

"Use the edge of the desk. Whip the desk." She swept an area clear with her forearm.

I lifted the flogger up high and WHAPPED it on the desk. The sound echoed around the office and Chantelle rolled her eyes.

"Try it like this..." She took the flogger from me, handle in one hand and the tails in the other. Drawing the tails toward her chest and aiming the flogger at her target, she simultaneously flicked her wrist and let go of the tails.

ffPAP! The tails struck the desk sweetly.

"Wow."

"Not so hard right?" She handed it back to me. "Try again."

"Okay..." ffPAP! ffPAP! ffPAP! For a moment there was silence in the room as we just stood there side by side grinning at each other.

"Pretty good..." She said.

"It's not too hard."

"You're a quick study."

She nodded at the flogger and I handed it back to her. She walked back over to the cabinet and replaced it there, closing the double doors, and turning the key. She walked back behind her desk and sat down, leaning forward with her hands clasped together.

"So what do you think?" She pointed at my chair and I sat.

"About what?" God, a million things were going through my head.

"About the venue Roger." She smiled. "Are we going to do this?"

"I think it would be great fun."

"I'm inclined to think so too. Only because of you though Roger."

"Me?"

"Yes. You are an interesting man Roger. I'm sold on the idea. We only have the grubby job of finances to deal with. And..."

"And?"

"I mentioned something before... about previous bookings... people who are coming in, some from out of town. I can't renege on those bookings Roger."

"Well, as long as they don't dominate proceedings, it shouldn't be a problem should it?"

"Interesting choice of words... I'll need to rope off a couple of the exhibition rooms. And I'll warn them of the presence of a large vanilla gathering of course."

"Vanilla?"

"Not of the lifestyle."

"Oh. Yes that would probably be wise."

"I'm sure. I'll take care of everything. In fact, if you sweeten the deal, I'll coordinate things and perhaps provide a little entertainment for your guests... something that would make the night memorable perhaps. Frankly I'd rather be mingling than sitting up here. That way I can keep control over what goes on."

"That also makes sense. What if we say twenty thousand for the full deal. And you can make things square with Claudio."

"That sounds completely acceptable."

"I think we have a deal then."

"Me too." Just then she stood and extended her hand to me.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you Roger."

"The pleasure is all mine Chantelle." I brought the back of her hand to my lips and kissed it gently.

"Aren't you the gentleman." Now it was Chantelle blushing. I dropped her hand and smiled at her.

"I'm really looking forward to this." I said.

"I still have a few concerns. But nothing you need worry about. Actually Roger, perhaps you'd like to come back later... maybe take a look around while the club is in full swing. Well, it's Wednesday so it won't be too busy, but I'm sure there will be enough going on for you to continue your education."

"Are you sure that would be ok?" My heart started beating faster at the prospect.

"Sure, you can be my personal guest."

"Thank you Chantelle." I couldn't wipe the huge grin I had off my face.

"Go on... I'm sure you have a few things still to attend to."

"Yes. Invitations." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, oh! I actually have some! I don't know if there is enough though but there's over a hundred. We actually have similar get togethers about once a month for select clientele... it might just work..." She was rummaging through one of her desk drawers.

"I could email any I don't have written invitations for... if they're suitable."

"They'll be perfect if I can ...just... find them... yes! Here they are!"

She dropped a whole lot of invitations on her desk and they spread out. Wow.

The photo on the front was of a couple, one kneeling and one standing. Both looking directly at the camera. Against a shadowy backdrop stood a man dressed in a designer suit with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet planted slightly apart. His eyes gazed with intensity at the camera. Kneeling to his left and leaning against him with an arm wrapped around his leg was a woman. She wore a simple silky shift-type garment, that was so sheer one could see the smudges of her intimate parts. Tasteful but provocative. In her free hand hanging loosely was a red rose, providing the only colour in the photo.

I opened the card and inside it said:

"You and your partner are cordially invited to a celebration of our success. Dress appropriately for a night of Domination and submission. Please provide your slave with a collar so he or she will be known to be owned. Free slaves are welcome."

There was a space for time and date to be entered and the address was at the bottom. I re-read the invitation.

"This would be perfect," I said finally.

"They are yours then."

"Thank you for all your help Chantelle." I gathered up the invitations into a pile and picked them up.

"It's been a pleasure Roger," she said, coming around her desk again. "About ten o'clock then?"

I looked at my watch. "God where did the time go?" It was ten past seven. "I have some work to do. But yes ten should be fine."

"Let's make it ten thirty. But don't turn up if you are a minute late Roger. I insist on punctuality."

"Funny, so do I."

"I have a feeling we are going to get on famously Roger." She slipped her arm into mine and walked me to the door. "Come back later and I'll show you all we have to offer here Roger, you won't be disappointed."

"I'm looking forward to it."

She glanced down at the still prominent bulge in my slacks. "I can tell." She said simply.

I blushed for about the fourth time in two hours.

"I'll page Adrian and have him meet you at the bottom of the staircase, you can arrange payment with him. I take it you have some sort of corporate credit card or something? A check perhaps?"

"Credit."

"That will be fine."

"I've really enjoyed meeting you Chantelle. Thank you for all your help, and for opening your doors for us. We've really helped each other out here. I hope you know how appreciative I am."

"I'm sure I'll find out." She winked, and ushered me out her office door into the corridor.

"I'll see you in a few hours then."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

I smiled and turned around, striding as confidently away as I could muster. I didn't look back, but I just knew she was watching my ass as I walked away. I even smiled to myself.

At the bottom of the stairs I was met by Adrian.

"I trust everything went well Sir?"

"Yes Adrian. Splendidly in fact."

"Wonderful Sir. If you would follow me, I will help finalise arrangements for you."

And that was that. A few minutes later I was standing outside in the cool breeze, the Domina Flagrante behind me, looking up and down the street and wondering where I parked my car.

I returned to my office and sat behind my desk and relaxed for a moment. I ticked off the things in my mind. Venue. Alcohol. Catering. I couldn't believe how well everything came together. Everyone was going to be so surprised. I sat and wrote out invitations for the next hour or so until I was done. Fortunately Annie had taken pity on me and provided me with the guest list. Little blonde waifish Annie. Now there was a slave if even I saw one. I chuckled. I shook my head and tidied my desk. I had just enough time to get home, shower, change and get back to the club.

I had no idea what I was getting into, but I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of a party...

Author's note: If you have managed to make it this far, and this *is* the kind of story you like, please let Me know by providing some feedback, either by voting, or by writing to Me and letting Me know what you think. I have big plans for this story, and I imagine, by the time you are reading this, the next chapter will be almost complete.