The façade of Baker Street betrayed nothing of what lay beyond its outer door, nor what lay behind the elaborate French doors into the inner sanctum to the left of the reception desk, manned by two members of the security team. To the right of the desk lay a conference room and a beautifully restored vintage elevator, which only serviced the top two floors, which had become the headquarters of the elite security firm known as Cerberus.

Just inside the interior doors stood another reception area, featuring an ornate set of stairs that led to the second, third and top floors, as well as a small hall that held two elevators and served as a pass-through to the club’s lounge. To the right lay the main dungeon, with three smaller, more intimate sceneing areas on that same floor as well as changing rooms for men and women. The reception desk inside the club proper was manned by a beautiful woman dressed in an elegant steampunk outfit.

As the couple walked through the area, Watson kept a close eye on Anne. He enjoyed watching Anne experience new things—some she liked, some she didn’t, and he could never guess which would be which. He had thought the Millennium Wheel or London Eye would scare her to death. But no—she had been enraptured.

On the other hand, she was not a big fan of elevators. She would ride them, but each time it was an act of will. That was one of the things he so admired about her—her heart and courage were second to none. They said her daughter, Queen Elizabeth I, had the courage of her father. Gabe disagreed; he was quite certain she had inherited her keen mind and brave heart from her mother.

Experiencing things with her and seeing them through her eyes had been a revelation to him. So many of the things he took for granted, Anne saw as just this side of miraculous.

The first time he’d talked about a dungeon, she had thought he meant a real dungeon, like the filthy prison beneath a castle as opposed to a decadent BDSM club. The fact that she found humor in the things she didn’t know or misinterpreted made it easy to help her learn the differences.

They were finally here, at Baker Street, and he was more than eager to see Anne’s response to all she was about to see and experience. Naturally, he’d been reluctant to place her in Rachel’s capable hands at the door to the submissives’ changing area. Not that he didn’t trust Rachel, because he did, and she was one of Anne’s closest friends. But he wanted her to enjoy herself, as he enjoyed the club a great deal. And now he would have to wait to see her reaction.

As he waited for Anne to make a reappearance, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His best friend in real life as well as fiction, Holmes, approached him, smiling.

“Watson, you’re here,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “How’s Anne taking it?”

“Amazingly well, but then she tends to take most things with good grace and a sense of humor.”

“She does. Rachel says she’s even more intelligent than anyone ever thought and very quick to figure things out. Does she know what to expect?”

Gabe nodded. “She does and is pretty open to it. I told her there was no pressure tonight and that we would just look around, watch some scenes, have a drink and if you and Rachel are playing, maybe grab a late supper somewhere.”

“I think Rachel would like that. What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I want to explore her boundaries with her,” he answered, rubbing his chin as he thought. “Does she need privacy? Or would she enjoy more public displays of sexuality and arousal? I’d like to see how open she is to playing in front of people,” he admitted.

“For what it’s worth, Rachel thinks she has a bit of an exhibitionist in her.”

Gabe laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Very little seems to rattle her. But all in all, I just want us to enjoy the openness and intimacy of the D/s lifestyle and all it can entail. I was kind of hoping you and Rachel might play in one of the exhibition rooms. Then we could watch in privacy and talk about things as they unfold.”

Holmes grinned. “That’s an excellent idea. My sweet Rachel has more than a bit of the exhibitionist in her. I don’t think I’ll tell her it’s the two of you. I think knowing strangers are watching is easier for her to deal with.”

Gabe opened his locker. The men’s changing area really was more like a locker room than anything else—utilitarian but with larger lockers than normal. There was also a sitting area with a vintage rug and recliners where he’d been involved in some fairly interesting discussions in the past.

He had heard that the women’s changing area was far more luxe—with comfortable chairs and chaises, armoires instead of lockers and more elaborate showers. It made some sense as most of the submissives were female and the club considered subs to be their most valuable asset.

Gabe often wondered if the subs walked around as unclothed and unconcerned as the Doms did. Most of the Doms he knew liked showing off and had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, while not as many subs, of his acquaintance did. Member Doms of both sexes kept their kits with their personal tools—whips, floggers, vampire gloves, etc.—at the club. Some were provided and the club ensured they were properly care for and sterilized, but Gabe preferred having his own.

One of the perks of belonging to Baker Street was unlimited access to the club itself as well as its nicely appointed lounge, which like the foyer had a definite steampunk vibe. In addition, members could put fet wear in bags provided and a laundry service collected them, cleaned them and returned them to the club.

As he removed his leathers, he thought about Anne. She had several new outfits, all of which had been delivered to her locker in the submissives’ lounge. Would she wear what he’d suggested? Would she surprise him to see how he’d respond?

“Does she know what’s expected of her?” asked Holmes, interrupting his train of thought.

“Yes. We’ve gone over protocols, something she’s quite adept at learning, as you’d expect. The only thing I worry about is whether she’ll show proper deference to other Doms. And God help them if someone tries to dominate her. She surrenders to my hand easily enough, but there’s still a residual regality and unwillingness to be submissive to anyone but me.”

Holmes nodded. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her if you have to leave her for any reason. Does she know what to expect of you—the leathers, I mean?”

Gabe grinned. “No. I thought I’d surprise her, but I have to imagine she’ll love this. She’s a deeply sensual woman and is enamored of the male form, and the woman takes cock worship to a whole new level.”

He changed out of his street clothes and into a set of black leathers before he and Holmes headed out to wait for their ladies.

***

Anne was not sure she’d ever be able to breathe again. Rachel had ratcheted up her corset far tighter than she’d ever been used to.

“Christ, Rachel, if I breathe wrong, my duckies will pop out.” She glanced at her body, still surprised at how exposed she felt.

“Boobs, breasts or tits,” said Rachel helpfully, “and breathing is only optional.”

She held up the matching thong, a piece of fabric so small and thin, a cloud might have provided more substance. “As for this bit of nothing that goes below, why bother?” she wondered.

Rachel shook her head. “I wouldn’t suggest that to Gabe; he might like having you just in a corset. And I see you opted for bare feet.”

“Yes. I still can’t get used to heels. I tried on a pair of Sage’s and damn near broke an ankle.”

As they walked through the door, Anne heard a faint whooshing sound that ended in the hard, distinctive crack of a whip. She couldn’t help flinching in response.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” said Gabe, who waited close by, his expression pleased and eager. “You look gorgeous. Remember, everything here is consensual. We talked about that when we went over the contract, and we talked about a safeword too.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear that,” said Rachel, laughing. “What, my dear friend, is your safeword?”

“For now, we’re sticking with the stoplight system,” Gabe said quietly.

Anne frowned. “Only because Watson thought my suggestions were inappropriate.”

“They were,” he warned, “and you are not to use them. Or should I introduce you to a spanking horse?”

Anne turned and looked at Rachel, an eyebrow raised. “I take it that is not something I would enjoy?”

Her friend shrugged lightly. “Depends on the kind of spanking. Given the look in his eyes, I’d opt for acquiescing at this time.”

It was all Anne could do to keep from drooling, literally. Gabriel Watson was gorgeous whether in a suit, or a tuxedo, or just jeans and a sweater. Naked, he was absolute perfection. But next to naked as he was now, the pair of black trousers riding low on his hips paired with the black leather vest and black boots—she thought he was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. The outfit revealed her husband’s amazingly muscular chest and abdomen. If she had to put up with not being able to breathe and having a pathetically thin piece of material splitting her butt cheeks to see him dressed like that, she was in.

The whip cracked again, and she winced. In her time, as far as she knew, people didn’t get flogged or whipped for fun. But then they didn’t get spanked either, and Gabriel had already proved to her what an effective aphrodisiac the right kind of spanking could be.

Gabe reached out to steady her. “We can leave if you want.”

“No,” she said, voice firm as she gathered her nerve and straightened her spine. “You like this—this place, this kind of thing. And what we’ve done at home, I’ve greatly enjoyed… Well, perhaps not the discipline or having something stuck up my ass, which is kind of the same thing.”

Gabe laughed. “But as I recall, both had a positive effect on your libido.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Everything you do has a positive effect on my libido.”

“Let’s let Rachel and Holmes go play. We can take a stroll around and get a drink. Holmes and I thought we might go get a late supper afterwards.’

Anne leaned into him. “You are going to fuck me, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan,” said Gabe with a smile, leading her away. “All I want you to do tonight is let me see to your comfort and pleasure. You will obey me, but if you don’t like something, we can stop and discuss it. The only thing that will get you disciplined is not being truthful with me or being blatantly disobedient.”

They wandered the dungeon floor and stopped to watch a shibari demonstration. Anne was fascinated with the intricate knots and placement of the ropes the Dom was using on his sub. Gabe explained it was a learned skill and a Dom had to learn how to gage what was tight enough for the sub to feel restrained without cutting off the circulation.

“The pattern of the rope is so intricate. It’s beautiful,” Anne said with reverence.

“Yes, and notice he has a knife handy so if his sub panics or wants out quickly, he can release her. You’ll also notice how he never takes his eyes off her. And the best part is after she is released from his bonds, the pattern will be imprinted on her skin for several hours.”

“But wouldn’t it be mostly covered up by her outfit?”

Watson grinned. “Generally, a sub is kept nude, at least until the pattern fades.”

“You’d let other men see me naked?” She wasn’t sure whether she was appalled or intrigued.

“Yes, but only to look at. Anyone tries to touch you, and I’ll rip his arm out of his socket and beat him over the head with it.” Anne laughed quietly. “Does the idea of being naked in public bother you?”

“It isn’t really public, is it? It’s in the dungeon.”

Gabe nodded. “Precisely. The idea of showing off my gorgeous, sexy submissive has a very arousing effect on me.”

Anne’s laugh was low and throaty. “I like things that are arousing for you. They always turn out well for me.”

He led her into one of the private play areas. Anne was surprised by the opulence it had—a large bed with luxurious bedding and plump pillows, as well as what she now knew was a St. Andrew’s Cross and a spanking horse.

“There are windows?” she said, intrigued and walking over to examine the full-length, damask drapes.

“Not exactly. Go ahead and open the curtains.”

When she did, she let out a small gasp and then a giggle before covering her mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. They can’t see or hear us.”

She turned to look at him. “How can they not see us? It’s a huge window.”

“From their side, it just looks like an enormous mirror. But Rachel knows there’s a very good possibility they’re being watched. Rachel has an exhibitionist kink, but only if she can convince herself it’s not her choice…”

“Thus the reason Holmes has her strung up to the hard point, like the ones you installed in our bedroom?”

“Exactly. You’ll notice Holmes has strung her up, so she has to stand really tall. He could have her up higher, but being on your tip-toes can be really tiring and stressful. Holmes wants her to focus on the sensation.”

“What kind of sensation?”

“I imagine a flogger, or maybe a feather. Who knows? Rachel has no idea, and that’s half the fun, but she does like impact and other kinds of sensations. Part of a Dom’s job is not only to pleasure his sub, but to push her boundaries. Look at Rachel’s body language—see how soft and relaxed she is? She trusts Holmes.”

Holmes walked all around her, trailing his fingers over her body, establishing a connection to her as he swished a flogger back and forth rhythmically. Gabe had shown her his floggers and single-tails. At first they had frightened her, but he’d allowed her to handle them, to feel how soft they were. She knew there could still be some pain involved but not the kind done to people who were flogged in the Tudor era.

Rachel was beautiful. Anne already knew that, but there was something powerful and confident in the way she stood with her arms stretched over her head. Her hair flowed all around her shoulders, breasts and back. She had a truly lovely figure, a bit fuller than was thought fashionable, but Anne had already figured out that Watson and his friends were not fans of the perfectly thin and fit women that so many of the magazines showed. They wanted a woman with a bit more flesh, but more than that, they wanted their women to indulge in decadent things.

Holmes draped the flogger over one shoulder and slid it down Rachel’s back and over the swell of her buttocks on one side, before doing the same to the other. He brought the flogger up and then down with considerably more forced than before. Rachel came up on her toes in response to the first strike and then danced at the second.

As Anne watched what was happening in the other room, Watson came to stand directly behind her. Instinctively, she leaned back against him. He nuzzled her neck as they observed Holmes work Rachel over. The intimacy of the moment was obvious, sensual, as Rachel’s body showed all the telltale signs of arousal—flushed skin, stiffened nipples.

“Is he playing music? He seems to be wielding that flogger to a specific beat.”

“He is indeed. Especially with a flogger, when you’re trying to seduce, not punish, having a song that you can match the rhythm to enhances the experience for both Dom and sub.”

Holmes wielded the flogger with the skill that only comes from experience, allowing the music to guide and regulate his strikes, his wrist flicking first one way and then another with a hypnotic rhythm. The longer he flogged her, the more relaxed Rachel seemed to get. No, not relaxed, Anne realized—soft, compliant.

“It’s almost like they’re dancing,” she mused.

Holmes brought the flogger to a halt and ran his free hand down her body—her skin quivering at his touch. Rachel seemed to be counting as the flogger continued to strike her on her large muscle groups, avoiding her neck and spine.

“Why is she counting?” asked Anne.

“It allows Holmes to monitor where she is. The further she gets into sub-space, the lazier and drowsier her voice will be.”

Holmes put the flogger down and came up to hug Rachel, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck while his hands cupped her breasts from behind. He rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and the hard bulge behind the fly of his trousers nestled against her ass.

Watson maneuvered Anne forward until she was standing directly in front of the window with her hands braced against the glass. “Do you want to watch Holmes fuck her, or would you prefer to be fucked?”

Anne turned, drawing the drapes behind her and smiled. “I think you know the answer to that…”