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Caveat

As ever with the Literotica categories I end up falling between two stools. Is this a D/s love story where the main characters just happen to be lesbian or is it a lesbian love story where the characters relationship just happens to be D/s? Well, it's a bit of both. If you don't like stories where one woman calls another 'Mistress' then this tale is not for you. Furthermore, I've concentrated on the 'Lit' in Literotica. Don't expect hot girl-on-girl action right from the start, although you will find plenty of action along the way.

Dedication

It is hard to express the full depth of my gratitude to the two persons who have done so much to help this story come alive. Both have put in many hours of unsung effort with no thought of any reward beyond my heartfelt thanks. In no particular order there's

Estragon: Ruthless eliminator of the run on sentence, fearless destroyer of clich?s. No homonym escapes his eagle eye.  I always used to wonder why authors thanked their editors so profusely; now I know. Without him this would surely be a sorry mess of grammatical errors.

OneWhoAdores: Right from the start he saw, clearer than I, the direction this story would take. Long discussions about morality within the D/s relationship and the lines we draw between fantasy and reality formed the background to this story and, in many ways, this is a co-write.

Both are authors on this site, authors whose work I admire. I urge you to check them out.

On with the story....

Karen Morris sat in the privacy of the restroom stall, hiding away and shaking slightly. It was another bad day at work; they all seemed to be bad nowadays. Ever since she had been promoted to team leader by dint of her long service, she was well out of her depth and she knew it. She had just finished a session with her supervisor, who had been on her back about falling productivity and, when she had returned to try to chivvy up the telesales girls she was nominally in charge of, they had all but laughed in her face. One thing was for certain, they had no respect for her either as a leader or as a person. With each month's declining figures she was moving closer and closer to being sacked. Why had she accepted the promotion in the first place? But then she never could say no, not then, not ever. She clamped her hands between her knees and fought back the tears that welled in her eyes.

She was still sitting like that when she heard the door to the restroom open and a group of women from her team came in followed shortly by the reek of cigarette smoke.

"Good grief, that Karen, what a waste of space! Trying to give us a hard time about smoking breaks, as if we care a jot what she says or thinks. Poncy little madam, isn't she," one of the women exclaimed. Evidently they were unaware that she was sitting in the end stall. Perhaps they didn't even care.

"Yeah, smarmy little prig. She's so uptight it's not true; I reckon what she needs is a damn good shag but she can't get a man so she takes it out on us," another joined in.

"Karen Morris, shagging! Don't make me laugh; OK, so she could look quite decent if she took a little trouble over herself but look at the clothes she wears and that hair style. Even if she did sort herself out no man would ever get anywhere near her, those knickers of hers are made of cast iron and her legs were welded shut years ago."

This caused a general round of laughter.

"But seriously, do you think she's ever done it?"

"What, her! Never!" one of the women snorted in derision. "Her pussy's seen so little action it's healed over. And if anyone did get up there all they would find is cobwebs. Nah, if ever there was a middle-aged virgin it's that one."

"Middle-aged? I didn't think she was more than thirty, if that," another queried.

"Thirty going on fifty," was the retort. "She's been middle aged ever since she was a teenager, that one. You can just bet she lives alone and keeps cats."

This produced more gales of laughter.

As she listened in horror, Karen shamefully admitted to herself that the women were right. Although she didn't have a cat she was a virgin and with the way she was going she was showing every likelihood of remaining one. Sex had never been a feature in her life; indeed, the only time a male of any description had been anywhere near her was a clumsy grope back in school when Billy Avery had insisted on a snog. Even after all these years, she still shuddered at the memory; as soon as he had started he had been all over her like an octopus and she had been disgusted as he thrust his tongue down her throat and his hand up her skirt and, ever since then, she had no desire to repeat the performance. What had made it worse was when she had found out that he had only done it for a bet and that, as soon as she had repelled him, he went around spreading the word that she was frigid. Once again, she had become the laughing stock of her peers.

It was this social awkwardness, this failing to fit in, that had marked most of her childhood years; she had been a menopause child, born when her mother was nearly fifty. As her much older siblings had grown up and left home, she had been the one left behind to look after her ageing parents. All through her teens and early twenties she had been kept busy by their increasingly difficult demands. Then, when at first her father and then her mother had fallen ill, she had become both nurse and provider and had had no time for any social life. Now they had both passed away and she was alone but, when it came to boy friends, she hardly knew where to start, or indeed whether she wanted to. Sure, as she watched rom-coms on the telly she had vague dreams of being swept away by a masterful lover; but somehow the leading men didn't seem to attract her and, on the rare occasion when she did meet someone, he always turned out to be more Billy Avery than Hugh Grant. Not that she fancied Hugh Grant that much either. But being resigned to her fate didn't make the loneliness any less painful; she just didn't know where to start.

So, huddled in the stall she hid away, waiting for the women to finish their cigarettes so that she could sneak back out and pretend that she really was their team leader, pretend that she was happy, pretend that all really was well with the world.

It was only a week or so later after this incident that Karen looked up to see Susan, her supervisor coming towards her with a young woman trailing behind.

"Ah Karen, this is Mel, the new team member I told you about," she said as she approached the desk. "She will be replacing Mary whose retirement is now finalised. I've briefed her on the basics, so perhaps you could show her which desk to use and so forth. Oh, and don't forget Mary's leaving do on Friday, we're relying on you to give the farewell speech; we do expect the team leaders to make an effort, you know."

Without any further ado Susan marched off, leaving Karen to introduce herself. At first, shocked by the brusque introduction, she didn't say anything; she just looked the newcomer up and down. Mel was short and wiry with close cropped, spiky hair. She was dressed in jeans and a blouse but there was something not quite right about the blouse, something Karen couldn't quite pin down. Then she realized with a bit of a shock what it was, the buttons went the wrong way, it wasn't a blouse, it was a man's shirt and, combined with the jeans and the rather tough boots she was wearing, it gave Mel a decidedly masculine look. However, as long as she did her job it really didn't matter what she wore; in fact the rather manly attire rather suited her in a strange way. With a start she realized she was staring so, pulling herself together, she stood up and, with a rather feeble 'follow me' took Mel over to the desk she would be using. Her rather feeble efforts to engage Mel in conversation were met with monosyllabic answers and Karen realized with an internal sigh that this was going to be another staff member with whom she had nothing in common. On the other hand, when she introduced Mel to Sharon, who was to be her mentor, she could see that there was an instant understanding and they started chatting as if Karen wasn't even there. Muttering 'I'll leave you two to get on with it then' Karen made her way back to her workstation.

Then it was back to putting together ideas for her speech for Mary's leaving do. Much as she was dreading standing up in front of everyone, she could hardly get out of it; she was the team leader and it was expected of her. Susan had made it quite clear that her presence was effectively compulsory. However she knew from similar occasions in the past that she would end up alone and friendless, stuck in a corner sipping a soft drink whilst all around her others would be having fun.

And so it almost was. Mary had used some of her leaving bonus to splash out and hire a room at a local pub and she had also insisted that partners would be welcome. When Karen had arrived the party was already in full swing and the more the alcohol flowed the louder it got. Karen, as ever, bought herself a lemonade from the bar, found herself a quiet corner and watched as she waited to do her dreaded speech. From time to time she wished she could join in but she knew what would happen if she tried. At best she would be politely ignored but she knew from experience that, from some of her staff, she would also get open hostility. Better by far to sit it out in the safety of her quiet corner. In her misery she was so used to being ignored that she didn't even see the young woman approaching and, as she was tapped on her shoulder, she jumped in surprise.

"Hi, I'm Lucy, I'm sorry if I startled you," the woman said with a smile.

"Hi... I'm.... I'm Karen."

"So you're the boss lady. Mel's told me quite a bit about you. I saw you sitting all alone and thought I'd come and talk to you. Can I sit down?"

"Of course," Karen pulled back a chair for Lucy. "I hope Mel didn't say anything bad about me."

"Not too bad," Lucy conceded, "but I'd like to make my own mind up. Is your partner with you?"

"Partner..." Karen blushed. "No, no, I'm on my own. And you, are you with Mel then?"

"That's right. I'm her significant other," Lucy replied with a heavy emphasis on the 'significant other' bit. "Didn't she tell you about me?"

"No, we don't really talk like that," Karen admitted, "but, come to think of it, she does have your photo on her desk." She brought the picture to mind, Mel and Lucy stood together wearing dark suits as if two grooms at a wedding. "When you say 'significant other' does that mean...."

"Yep, we've been married four years now." Karen could hear the pride in Lucy's voice. "We were right in there as soon as they changed the law." Lucy held out her hand, showing off her ring.

"But I haven't seen Mel wearing a ring," Karen commented before realizing just how personal she was being. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"That's OK, Mel... well, she's not the sort to wear rings, if you know what I mean. She thinks they're too girly."

"But not too girly for you, however," Karen responded.

"Is that your speech?" Lucy asked, indicating some papers lying in front of Karen, pointedly changing the subject.

"Yeah, one of the 'perks' of the job," Karen replied, the irony thick in her voice.

"So you're not looking forward to it then."

"No, I hate standing up in front of people, especially this crowd," Karen confessed.

"You'll do fine," Lucy reassured her.

"No I won't, you're just saying that to be nice."

"No I'm not, well, maybe a bit, but you've got a lovely speaking voice and I can tell you're ever so clever so I'm sure... are you OK?"

"They'll just laugh at me. A laughing stock, that's all I am to them, a laughing stock and, quite frankly, they're right, I'm useless at this and I know I'm going to make a muck of it," Karen was unable to stop herself from blurting out.

Lucy looked at Karen and could see the tears forming. "You really are scared, aren't you? Look, let's go outside and get a breath of fresh air. You don't want this lot seeing you like this."

Without waiting for an answer Lucy reached over, took Karen's hand and together the two women went outside, dodged the inevitable crowd of smokers gathered around the door, and went over to the children's play area where it was quiet. Sitting down on the swings they rocked back and forth for a moment in silence.

"I feel so silly," Karen started, "I didn't mean to...."

"You're not silly; you just don't like giving speeches, that's all," Lucy replied firmly.

"But I'm such a failure." Karen, having found someone to talk to, couldn't stop herself. "I never get anything right."

And then it all came pouring out, her fears, her insecurities, the mixed emotions over her parent's death, and, above all her aching loneliness. Lucy, except for asking the occasional question, and passing a tissue from a packet she kept in her pocket, kept silent and just listened.

"God, listen to me go on and on," Karen said at last. "You're ever so good; I must be boring you silly with all my pathetic woes."

"They're not pathetic at all and neither are you; you just needed someone to talk to and I'm glad it was me. However, we need to be getting back. Like it or not you still have that speech to make."

"Thanks for reminding me," Karen said but her voice was lighter. "No, seriously, thank you, you're very special and Mel's a very lucky girl to have you."

"I'm lucky to have Mel too," Lucy replied loyally. "Now come along or we'll be missed."

And, as they returned to the pub, Karen did feel better. She still wasn't going to enjoy herself and she would still leave as soon as she could but Lucy had made her feel wanted, liked, appreciated; feelings that she hadn't felt in a very long while.

"So what's with you and old frigid knickers?" Mel asked rather drunkenly from the passenger seat as Lucy drove them home. "You spent half the evening talking to her instead of being with me."

"Frigid knickers, do you mean Karen? Don't be so nasty, she's really nice once you get to know her and, anyway, she's one of us."

"How do you mean, one of us?"

"I mean, my gorgeous sexy partner, that Karen 'frigid knickers' Morris is a full blown lezzy even if she doesn't know it," Lucy said firmly.

"I don't believe you. I didn't get a hint of it on my gaydar."

"That's because you're too busy putting her down to see the real Karen. Do you know she's never had a boyfriend?"

"So what, I'll bet she's never had a girlfriend either."

"Yeah, but she told me that the thought of kissing a boy puts her right off, turns her stomach, meanwhile I could tell that all she really wanted from me was a hug, a hug and a lot more besides."

"I damn well hope you didn't give her one," Mel said, suddenly cross.

"There's no need to get jealous. You know I only have eyes for you. I'm not saying we did anything, or even that we would have done anything, I'm just saying that Karen 'frigid knickers' Morris likes the girls and not the boys."

"Well she had better keep her hands off you," Mel was slightly mollified. "Anyway, what's it to do with us?"

"Well, nothing really. I just thought that...." Lucy let the sentence drift away.

"What did you just think, you little minx?"

"I thought that if maybe, if we could invite her down the club, introduce her to some of the girls... Maybe if you could arrange it...." Lucy said playfully.

"Karen! The Club! You've got to be joking. Anyway, why on earth should I?" asked Mel.

"I'll do anything you want, anything at all," Lucy replied teasingly.

"You'll do anything I want anyway, 'cos if you don't you'll get a damn good spanking," Mel replied half joking.

"Ooh, yes please. Can I kiss your pussy as well? Please, please, please," Lucy kept the joke running.

"You are such a slut, do you know that?" Mel said with a laugh.

"Yes, Mistress, but I'm your slut."

"Yes you are, and don't you ever forget it." And with that the subject was dropped, but each knew that Lucy would get her way in the end. Mel might be in charge, Mel might be the one on top but Lucy, when she really wanted something, always knew just how to get it.

A few days later, when Mel came over to Karen's desk, she was wearing a tee shirt that proclaimed "I'm only lesbian for the social benefits". Karen was tempted to comment that such statements were out of place in the work environment but Mel, although she was only just out of training, was already looking to be one of the better telesales girls, and she didn't want to upset her. As it was Mel was smiling and being unusually friendly.

"It looks like you made quite an impression on my Lucy," she said. "I've been ordered to invite you over to supper and then she thought we might go on to a little club we know."

"I'm not sure...."

"Not sure? If you're not sure then you don't know my Lucy," Mel laughed. "Once she's made her mind up about something then there's no denying her. Shall we say Friday night? We can go home together after work."

"Friday... I don't know...." Karen stuttered.

"Of course you do. Here, let me." Mel picked up the phone from Karen's desk and dialled a number. After a few minutes it was answered.

"Hi, Luce, it's me Mel," she said. "Look, I'm with Karen now and she'd love to come on Friday.... Yep, she's right next to me. Shall I put her on?"

Mel handed the phone to Karen who took it gingerly and held it to her ear.

"Hi Karen," she heard Lucy say. "Thanks for agreeing to come; I'm really looking forward to it. I'm longing to catch up with you again. Do you have any food preferences?"

"No... no... anything will do fine. Look, I'm not sure...." Karen replied.

"Of course you are. Gotta go, the boss is looking at me. See you Friday." And with that the phone was cut off.

"OK?" enquired Mel as Karen put the phone down. "You see what I mean about Lucy, there's no saying no to her. I'd best get back to work then, don't want my team leader moaning at me." Mel laughed. "Don't forget, after work on Friday." And, leaving Karen slack jawed with surprise, she returned to her desk.

For the next two days Karen was on tenterhooks. Part of her felt that she had been railroaded into something she was dreading; Mel had never been particularly kind to her and she was sure that the invite hadn't come from that quarter. Lucy, on the other hand, had been really friendly at Mary's leaving do, and Karen really wanted to meet her again. And to add to her nerves there was the vexed question over what she was going to wear; apart from the occasional family do she wasn't used to going out. There was the floral print dress she had bought from Marks and, maybe, that nice cardy she had picked up in British Home Stores. Those, together with a comfy pair of flats, would make a pleasant outfit but they would be out of place when compared to the sort of clothes Mel wore and Lucy hadn't seemed a floral print and cardy type of girl either. Well, it would have to do. It wasn't as if she had much else in her wardrobe.

When Mel arrived at work on Friday morning and saw what Karen was wearing she groaned internally; heaven knows what the girls down the club were going to make of her. She could see that Karen had made an effort, she had inexpertly daubed on some makeup for example, but she looked like someone's mum and her clothes would not have been out of place in a fifties sitcom. However Lucy was adamant and that was good enough for Mel.

"Nice cardigan," she commented dryly.

"Do you think so?" Karen said brightly. Mel's irony had completely passed her by. "I wasn't sure if it would be suitable but I'm not the fashion type, not really."

"You don't say," Mel laughed. "Well, best get on; I don't want my team leader giving me a hard time for chatting. I'll come and get you at five."

Mel's obvious disdain didn't help Karen's growing nerves and she was tempted time and time again to make some excuse, to cry off. Indeed, her stomach was playing up, the effect of her nerves, no doubt, and she wouldn't have been telling more than the whitest of lies if she pleaded a stomach upset but then she remembered how kind Lucy had been; it would be a shame to let her down. Maybe she could just go for the meal and get out of going to the club, whatever that was. For the rest of the day, time seemed to both drag and race and Karen's attention was constantly wandering. Suddenly it was four fifty and she went to the restrooms to get ready only to disturb a group of her team who had slipped out for a quick cigarette before leaving. Rather flustered by this she returned to here desk where, on seeing her return, Mel came over and led her away. As they made their way down to the car park Mel was all forced joviality, which didn't help the tension. Together they squeezed into Mel's car and drove back to the little terraced house that she shared with Lucy.

The conversation over the meal, with its awkward pauses and embarrassed silences, hardly did Lucy's cooking justice. Apart from work Mel had little in common with Karen and every subject she started seemed to peter out. Karen, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves and too shy to give more than one word answers which left Lucy to make all the conversation. Furthermore Karen's anxiety had depressed her appetite and she hardly touched the salmon steaks that Lucy had spent so long preparing. When the meal was finally over as Lucy cleared away the dishes Mel followed her into the kitchen.

"That was fun," Mel said with heavy irony. "What's more we can't take her to the club looking like that. She'll never fit in."

"Yes we can. Anyway you promised," Lucy replied firmly.

"That was before I knew she would turn up looking like something out of the fifties. A retro look is all very well but she's just old fashioned. Anyway, it's Dommes and Subs night. What on earth will she make of that?"

"Don't you think I didn't know it was Dommes and Subs night before I arranged all this? Please, Mel, trust me on this. I've just got a feeling about her, a feeling that she might surprise you before the evening is out."

Mel gave Lucy a long hard look before deciding to trust her judgement. She had learnt over the years that Lucy was seldom wrong in these matters and, whilst it still looked like a crazy idea to her, Mel soon demurred.

"Well, she might get away with looking like a frump but you're certainly not. I sincerely hope that you're not expecting to go dressed like that. It's about time you remembered just who is in charge around here." Mel, feeling that she needed to reassert her authority, wagged her finger in mock anger.

"Of course, Mistress," Lucy gave a little bob of a curtsey, "I'll get changed as soon as I've dried and put away the dishes."

"Leaving me to look after old frigid knickers," Mel sneered.

"Please, try and get to know her. She's not that bad, honestly."

"If you insist. Now come along, we don't want to be late." And with that Mel returned to the living room whilst Lucy finished off in the kitchen.

When Lucy came back down from getting changed she found Mel and Karen sitting in silence, with a heavy, almost palpable, atmosphere in the room. Karen, glad that the wait was over, looked up to find that Lucy had changed out of her jeans and tee shirt and into a short white skirt and a matching frilly blouse with a deep, revealing cleavage. Indeed, the cleavage was so deep and revealing that it was all too obvious that Lucy was without a bra. Whereas Mel's masculine attire just made Karen feel different, Lucy's outfit made her feel out of date and frumpy. She would give anything if only she could look that good, or dress that daringly. Lucy gave Karen a big smile before going over to where Mel was sat and kneeling down on the floor in front of her. Bowing her head she held out her hands, offering up something to Mel who sat up, leant forward, and took whatever it was from her. They kissed briefly and then Mel took whatever it was she had taken from Lucy and fastened it around her neck.

"There, that's better, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress," Lucy said, still knelt before her with her head bowed.

"Well, come along or we'll be late."

Lucy stood up and turned to the astonished Karen who could finally see what it was that Mel had put on Lucy. It was a choker which looked, as far as she could see, like a dog collar in white leather with silvery fittings. The front was not buckled but padlocked and a silver identity tag hung down from the lock. Karen didn't know what to do or say. Indeed, it wasn't just the collar; it was what had she just witnessed; had Lucy really knelt before Mel and called her 'Mistress'? It hardly seemed believable. However Lucy’s big smile was irresistible and, not wishing to make a scene, Karen stifled her objections and got to her feet.

"Look," she said, "this club... I'm not sure it's me... I...."

"Come along, you'll enjoy it, really you will," Lucy urged.

"But I really don't think it's my sort of thing. I'm not dressed right for it," Karen protested.

"Don't be a silly," chided Lucy, "you'll be fine. Now come along or Mistress Mel will have to give you a spanking."

Again Karen was flabbergasted. This time there was no mistaking it; Lucy had just called Mel 'Mistress' quite openly and then talked about spankings as if it were perfectly normal. Karen felt the panic rising within her and she was on the verge of running away but Lucy's her mischievous smile really was infectious and Karen was fast finding out just how hard it was to say 'no' to her. Lucy held out her hand invitingly and Karen felt her resistance crumble. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be dragged along; maybe if she went for a few minutes she could slip away early without anyone noticing. For Lucy's sake she forced down her nervousness, picked up her handbag and the three women set off for the club.

As she and Mel made their way hand in hand towards the town centre Lucy made no move to hide the collar; indeed she seemed to almost want to flaunt it, shaking her head from time to time so that the name tag tinkled against the padlock. They obviously knew the way well; there was a familiarity about their movements and Karen guessed that this was what they did every Friday. As they approached the town they made their way down some of the narrower back streets to a club which, despite the rainbow flag hanging outside, was otherwise pretty inconspicuous. Mel marched up to the closed door and knocked. A CCTV camera blinked red for a second or two and then a buzzer sounded and Mel pushed the door open.

Just inside the door was a reception desk with the woman who had just buzzed them in sitting behind it. She wore a top of flimsy, see-through material and Karen couldn't help but stare at the obvious darker circles of the woman's nipples plainly visible through the wispy material. Like Lucy, she wore a collar around her neck but, unlike Lucy's, this collar was a far more serious affair in dark leather and maybe four centimetres wide.

"Good evening, Mistress Mel," the woman said. "Who's your friend?"

"Hi Jane, this is Karen," Mel replied. "Pass me the book and I'll sign her in."

Jane reached for a ledger and passed it over, along with a pen. As she did so Karen noticed that Jane was wearing leather cuffs as dark and as heavy as her collar.

"What is this place?" she asked Lucy in a whisper. "Why is she dressed so... so...." Karen wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

"It's a place where we can relax together, where we can be who we are without anybody making a fuss. Now shh! We subs aren't supposed to talk without permission."

"Subs? What's a sub?" Karen whispered urgently. What had she got herself into? She glanced towards the door, looking to escape; but it had shut automatically and the locking mechanism looked solid. She'd only make more of a fool of herself if she tried to run away, First Lucy and now this Jane, dressed in these awful revealing outfits. However could they, why didn't they just die of shame? Lucy noticed her discomfort and put her arm around her, both comforting her and, ironically, trapping her.

Mel finished signing Karen in, turned to Lucy and Karen and, after giving them an admonishing look, led them into the body of the club. The main room wasn't that big, maybe a half a dozen tables in the centre and booths surrounding three of the sides. Each booth was a deep horseshoe of padded seating with a table in the middle. The fourth wall consisted solely of the bar and a small stage. It looked for all the world like any other small private club. On the other hand the client?le were far from normal, at least in Karen's eyes. The club was already about half full and Karen could see that that all the customers were women, in some cases very obviously so, but in others you had to look twice. Each couple, and it was almost entirely couples, consisted of one woman whose dress, indeed whose whole demeanour, marked her out as the dominant partner. As for the other half of the couple, it didn't take much to see that 'sub' was short for submissive. Lucy's attire was pretty conservative when compared to many and fantasies in leather or latex were quite common. Many of the subs were even more scantily dressed than Jane, the doorkeeper, their leather or latex costumes designed to emphasise, for example, their bare breasts. However, whatever the theme of the sub's outfit there was one common item: each and every one of them was wearing a collar, in many cases along with an attached leash.

"I... I... I...." Karen stuttered but Mel just turned and wagged a finger at her and, feeling completely out of her depth, she had no choice but to stay quiet and meekly follow Mel and Lucy over to a booth where they were evidently expected. As she made her way between the tables Karen was all too aware of the stares she was getting, of how her 'normal' attire was, in this bizarre place, the abnormal, that somehow she was the freak, the outsider, the stranger. Her cheeks glowed with her growing embarrassment.

As they settled down Lucy was despatched to get a round of drinks, Mel ordering for them all without consulting Karen. As she looked around Karen noticed that whereas the dominant partners were all seated on the benches many of the subs were knelt or sitting on the floor.  For a moment she wondered if this was where she should be sitting, as she would surely be assumed to be a sub, but Mel patted the seat beside her as an invitation and squeezed in beside her. And then, despite the rather bizarre clothing, it was suddenly all very normal. Sure there were plenty of overtones and the subs were always very respectful, referring to their dominant partners as Mistress and never talking unless told to, but, apart from that, it was any group of women relaxing together, catching up on the gossip, sharing the news. Karen, shy as ever, held herself back but, as she sat and listened, she didn't feel excluded, far from, the group seemed to accept her readily and were even keen to get to know her.

"White wine, OK?" Lucy said as she returned with the drinks and put the full glass down on the table in front of Karen.

"Oh, I don't normally drink," Karen replied rather ungraciously.

"Oh, are you teetotal?" Lucy asked.

"No, nothing like that, I just don't usually...." Once again Karen tailed off. She normally didn't drink because she normally didn't have anyone to drink with, but she wasn't going to admit that.

"Well then, one glass of wine won't hurt, will it?" Lucy replied as she knelt down on the floor next to Mel. As soon as she had done so than Mel reached into her pocket and produced a leash in white leather, perfectly matching Lucy's collar. As she made it fast Karen could see the bond between the two women; this act, which should have been so degrading, was quite evidently an act of love, a deep symbol of their relationship. With the leash fastened Lucy leant against Mel's legs and rested her head on her lap.

Tucked away at the back of the booth, Karen sipped her wine and listened to the conversations. She really wasn't used to drinking and even this small amount of alcohol was making her head swim. Add to that the way the club was well heated in deference to the clothing, or lack of it, worn by many of the customers and she was feeling uncomfortably hot. Perhaps she needn't have worn the cardy after all but she didn't want to disturb people by taking it off. She was listening intently to one of the Dommes who was telling an amusing tale when....

"Hello. Who have we got here? I haven't seen you before."

Karen looked up and her heart seemed to skip a beat; there, standing before the group, was the most extraordinary woman she had ever seen.