Unlike the other places she had ventured, Rachel wanted to give the impression of being a dominant here, afraid of what her perceived submission might lead to. The heels she wore were tall and polished, a matching black. The dress she wore was black leather, hugging her hips and thighs down to mid-calf. To give an air of authority, Rachel had pulled her hair tightly back, making a sharp ponytail. Submissives and slaves were expected to perform for strangers if they were unowned, generally identified by some type of collar, if not outright chaining to their partner. Here, entry was a tacit agreement to experience. It was the place where there were no rules. There were those, upon hearing that she was submissive, who would try to force her into something unwanted, but most clubs had very strict policies about consensual agreement between parties and a bouncer would intervene if she looked like she was in any sort of danger.īut danger was what The Dark Side was all about. She did not have nearly enough knowledge to pretend to be an expert in the scene, but she could fake her way into being a participant. She tried not to commit when she was asked if she was dominant or submissive, but she would claim to be the latter when pressed. new to town, still searching for the proper partner. She had played coy, flirting with those who approached her, building a narrative for herself that seemed believable enough. Where before she had never imagined sexuality beyond her rather plain tastes, her mind had been filled with a catalog of possibilities. She was able to identify, now, masters and mistresses and subs and slaves, her observations translated by internet searches. She had seen the usual bondage and men and woman collared and led by chains, she had seen tongues worshiping bare heels, bodies clad in latex and leather, sometimes decorated only by tattoos and piercings. While the city had a couple of clubs that catered to the more elaborate sexualities of its citizens, The Dark Side was the place where it was done in the open, its migrations from one building to another and even the occasional home made it beyond the reach of anyone but the most daring.įor a week, Rachel prowled clubs she would never have imagined entering, and each excursion left her with a new revelation of the kinks which humanity had invented for itself. It was a rumor to most people, or never heard of at all if you lived your life outside of the circle Rachel now found herself in. The Dark Side was not a standalone building, a place with a sign on the door or a number you could call. Wherever the eye turned, some sort of fetish or unexpected depravity was playing out, but there was no room for second-hand smoke. It was ironic, Rachel thought, that a place like The Dark Side did not allow smoking. THE STABLE GAMES: THE STABLE GAMES PART THREEįirst Edition.
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