anonymouse
03-21-2007, 07:42 PM
Below is the first part of my newest work-in-progress. As will become evident as you read through it, I enjoy creating characters and settings with some depth -- something that isn't necessarily to the tastes of everybody. In other words, if you like your erotica graffic, hot and steamy right from the outset, you'll probably be disappointed.
That said, I will appreciate any comments anybody cares to make. I'm a little hesitant to solicit the help of an editor at this stage as I'd like to develop a bit more of the story first before I start making revisions. But if editing is your thing, and you'd like to offer that type of critical support, please let me know.
The Roundhouse
It's known simply as 'The Roundhouse'. Situated within the old shipping docks precinct, it was once used as a wheat silo but now forms part of an adult nightclub and restaurant redevelopment. The Roundhouse itself isn't particularly remarkable to look at from the outside except perhaps that the domed roof (added during the renovation to conceal air conditioning units) gives the tall, cylindrical structure an almost phallic appearance.
Inside, there are four levels above ground and one basement, all connected via a staircase that spirals around the inside perimeter. The 'entertainment' offered to members of The Roundhouse Club varies from floor to floor and is only available to club members. Because of the highly sexual and unusual nature of the entertainment, all prospective members must first be screened.
The screening process is done on a 'by appointment' basis, usually at one of the small restaurants neighboring The Roundhouse. It is here that Daniel Sanders and his wife Ingrid first met Matthew Curtis.
"Good evening. I'm Matthew Curtis," he said.
Daniel extended an arm to return Matthew's friendly but business-like handshake. "I'm Daniel, and this is my wife, Ingrid."
"Enchanted!" Matthew said.
Ingrid politely offered her hand and smiled; partly with surprise as much as anything when Matthew lightly took her hand in his, bowed a little, and then kissed her lightly on the knuckles.
"Thank you," Ingrid said. She felt her neck and cheeks warm with the flush of slight embarrassment at his formal courtesy.
"Please; please sit," Matthew said. He continued to hold Ingrid's hand until she slipped past him to sit beside her husband in the semi-circular booth.
Once everybody was seated, Matthew summoned a waiter and then turned his attention to his two guests. "Something to drink?"
Ingrid immediately looked to her husband and waited for him to respond.
"Yes, thank you," Daniel said. "I'll have a scotch, straight up with ice."
Ingrid reached for her husband's hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze as she looked to Matthew. "Do they sell champagne by the glass?" she asked.
Matthew thought Ingrid's tentativeness in asking was both intriguing and alluring. "No, my dear."
"Oh," Ingrid said softly. "Well then, I'll..."
"But," Matthew said, "If you want champagne then that's what you shall have."
Ingrid immediately smiled, firstly at Matthew and then at her husband. Daniel smiled warmly back at his wife and then at Matthew.
"Andrew," Matthew said, turning his attention to the waiter who now stood waiting to take down the order. "One Glenfiddich, straight up with ice, a bottle of Verve Clique, and two glasses. Thanks."
"Old maid!" Ingrid said, more loudly than she had intended.
"What's that?" Matthew asked.
"Old maid," Ingrid said. Her face and ears continued to burn more hotly, as did her eyes. "Old maid. Verve Clique. It's sometimes called old maid. The French, that is..."
"Yes, it is." Matthew smiled broadly. "I see you're an educated lady, Ingrid."
Ingrid choked back a lump in her throat and could only nod modestly.
"She speaks French," Daniel said. He smiled proudly at his wife.
"No I don't!" Ingrid felt uncomfortable to have her husband over-rate her abilities in front of a stranger.
"Yes, you do!" Daniel laughed.
"Mister Curtis, I studied French at university a long time ago," Ingrid said. She leaned slightly forward across the table and, in a confessional tone said, "I can read it but a French person would laugh at me if they heard me speak it."
"The French do that to everybody, Ingrid. Especially the Parisians!" Matthew laughed loudly.
Daniel and Ingrid joined in the laughter.
"Yes," Ingrid said, as if to confirm a fact she already knew.
"Ah! Good man," Matthew said to acknowledge the return of the waiter. "Scotch for Mr. Sanders and..."
"Please, call me Dan," Daniel smiled.
"For Dan, and glasses for the lovely lady and me," Matthew said.
Ingrid noticed Matthew's eyes linger a moment on her and she demurely averted her gaze to the flickering candle on the table.
The waiter set down the glasses and positioned the silver ice bucket in its stand next to Matthew.
Daniel made an excited whooping sound when the champagne cork popped.
"Daniel!" Ingrid whispered loudly.
"She hates it when I do that," Daniel said. He grinned at Matthew and could feel Ingrid squeezing his hand tightly under the table. "She says only common people get excited by the sound of champagne being opened!"
"Common people?" Matthew laughed. He could tell by the way Ingrid had hunched her shoulders and bowed her head that she was becoming increasingly embarrassed by her husband's remarks. He also sensed that Ingrid was not only well educated; she clearly came from a family with money, and this made him smile inwardly.
Daniel laughed again and then reached for his drink.
"What shall we drink to?" Matthew asked. He raised his glass to his guests and waited.
"To The Roundhouse!" Daniel said. He clinked his glass against Matthew's and then Ingrid.
"To The Roundhouse!" Matthew said.
Ingrid repeated the salute, but failed to produce the same level of enthusiasm.
Each sipped their drink.
"Well, since it's been mentioned, let's get down to business," Matthew said.
Ingrid was already feeling tense from just the mention of the club. She sat silently, focused her attention on the stem of her champagne flute and twirled it in her fingers.
Matthew led the discussion with Daniel and asked a variety of background questions, such as how they'd heard about the club.
"A business associate told me about it," Daniel said.
"Really? Is he a member?" Matthew asked.
"He is a she, actually," Daniel said.
Ingrid glanced briefly at her husband. She had never been jealous with him before, and wasn't now, but she had assumed he was talking about a male business associate when he first proposed the idea of joining the club to her.
"Really? Do I know her?" Matthew asked.
"I think so. Her name is Alex."
"Ah! Mistress Alex. Yes, I know her well!" Matthew watched Ingrid closely for her reactions. He enjoyed the way she clearly felt uncomfortable.
Ingrid looked off in no particular direction as she raised her glass and swallowed another large mouthful of champagne.
Daniel continued. "So anyway, Alex mentioned the club several months ago to me. She said she wasn't allowed to say much, but that if I was interested, she would propose me for membership."
"And your lovely wife, of course," Matthew said.
Ingrid glanced briefly at Matthew and then looked down again.
"Well, yes, of course!" Daniel laughed at his own oversight.
"What do you think of all this, Ingrid?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know," Ingrid half-shrugged. "It's all Daniel's idea."
"I see," Matthew said.
Daniel felt suddenly uneasy about his wife's sudden disinterest. "No it wasn't!" he protested with a laugh.
Ingrid's expression remained solemn.
There was a long silence as each person contemplated the situation.
"My dear, if you're having second thoughts about this, please speak up now," Matthew said.
Ingrid shrugged her shoulders again. She desperately wanted to speak privately with her husband but couldn't summon the courage to ask.
Matthew looked across the table at Daniel who in turn responded with a brave smile.
"Ingrid?" Daniel discreetly pulled his wife's hand to his crotch and forced her to feel his largely erect cock.
Ingrid burst into a fit of giggles and pulled her hand away.
Matthew smiled curiously at her and then more broadly when Daniel started to laugh.
"If you don't want to join with me, I can always ask Samantha," Daniel said.
Ingrid immediately prickled at the mention of the name. "Samantha?" Ingrid laughed derisively.
"Sure. Samantha would love it," Daniel said.
Ingrid knew her husband was just teasing her - a long, on-going private joke they shared about Daniel's secretary. She folded her arms on her chest and breathed deeply.
"Samantha?" Matthew asked. "You're losing me."
"It's nothing, Mister Curtis. It's my husband's secretary. She has more silicone in her body than brains!"
The sudden joke caught both Matthew and Daniel by surprise.
"Ingrid!" Daniel said in a tone of mock indignation.
"Well, it's true," Ingrid said. She made no attempt to hide her true feelings.
"Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a minute," said Matthew.
"No!" Daniel laughed.
"Yes!" Ingrid replied simultaneously.
"No," Daniel repeated, this time emphasizing the word to make it clear he was becoming annoyed with his wife.
Matthew watched the minor dispute closely but didn't interrupt or leave the table.
"Alex said we'd need to sign some forms," Daniel said.
Matthew smiled at Daniel's sudden business-like manner. "Yes. It's quite straight forward, really. There's a consent form that includes a non-disclosure clause among other things."
As he spoke, Matthew retrieved a red leather slip-folder from his briefcase and placed it on the table in front of Daniel. "You must read and sign the non-disclosure statement on the front page before continuing. Basically, it simply says that from now on, everything you read in the contract as well as everything you may witness of club activities from this point on is to remain secret. It's a standard non-disclosure form..."
"Yes, we use them all the time in my business too," Daniel said. He quickly skimmed the wording, reaching for his pen as he read, and then signed at the bottom.
"Are you sure?" Ingrid asked when Daniel presented her with his pen.
"Yes," Daniel nodded.
"I'm only doing this for you, you know?" she said.
Daniel smiled kindly at his timidly insecure and loving wife. "Yes, I know, and I love you for it."
Matthew also smiled, but his motives were entirely different. He had been around long enough to read the signs and hear the hidden subtext of their words. 'She has absolutely no idea what she's getting herself into,' Matthew thought to himself. 'A perfectly innocent and trusting woman who I think will be a pleasure to corrupt, debauch and train.'
To be continued...
That said, I will appreciate any comments anybody cares to make. I'm a little hesitant to solicit the help of an editor at this stage as I'd like to develop a bit more of the story first before I start making revisions. But if editing is your thing, and you'd like to offer that type of critical support, please let me know.
The Roundhouse
It's known simply as 'The Roundhouse'. Situated within the old shipping docks precinct, it was once used as a wheat silo but now forms part of an adult nightclub and restaurant redevelopment. The Roundhouse itself isn't particularly remarkable to look at from the outside except perhaps that the domed roof (added during the renovation to conceal air conditioning units) gives the tall, cylindrical structure an almost phallic appearance.
Inside, there are four levels above ground and one basement, all connected via a staircase that spirals around the inside perimeter. The 'entertainment' offered to members of The Roundhouse Club varies from floor to floor and is only available to club members. Because of the highly sexual and unusual nature of the entertainment, all prospective members must first be screened.
The screening process is done on a 'by appointment' basis, usually at one of the small restaurants neighboring The Roundhouse. It is here that Daniel Sanders and his wife Ingrid first met Matthew Curtis.
"Good evening. I'm Matthew Curtis," he said.
Daniel extended an arm to return Matthew's friendly but business-like handshake. "I'm Daniel, and this is my wife, Ingrid."
"Enchanted!" Matthew said.
Ingrid politely offered her hand and smiled; partly with surprise as much as anything when Matthew lightly took her hand in his, bowed a little, and then kissed her lightly on the knuckles.
"Thank you," Ingrid said. She felt her neck and cheeks warm with the flush of slight embarrassment at his formal courtesy.
"Please; please sit," Matthew said. He continued to hold Ingrid's hand until she slipped past him to sit beside her husband in the semi-circular booth.
Once everybody was seated, Matthew summoned a waiter and then turned his attention to his two guests. "Something to drink?"
Ingrid immediately looked to her husband and waited for him to respond.
"Yes, thank you," Daniel said. "I'll have a scotch, straight up with ice."
Ingrid reached for her husband's hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze as she looked to Matthew. "Do they sell champagne by the glass?" she asked.
Matthew thought Ingrid's tentativeness in asking was both intriguing and alluring. "No, my dear."
"Oh," Ingrid said softly. "Well then, I'll..."
"But," Matthew said, "If you want champagne then that's what you shall have."
Ingrid immediately smiled, firstly at Matthew and then at her husband. Daniel smiled warmly back at his wife and then at Matthew.
"Andrew," Matthew said, turning his attention to the waiter who now stood waiting to take down the order. "One Glenfiddich, straight up with ice, a bottle of Verve Clique, and two glasses. Thanks."
"Old maid!" Ingrid said, more loudly than she had intended.
"What's that?" Matthew asked.
"Old maid," Ingrid said. Her face and ears continued to burn more hotly, as did her eyes. "Old maid. Verve Clique. It's sometimes called old maid. The French, that is..."
"Yes, it is." Matthew smiled broadly. "I see you're an educated lady, Ingrid."
Ingrid choked back a lump in her throat and could only nod modestly.
"She speaks French," Daniel said. He smiled proudly at his wife.
"No I don't!" Ingrid felt uncomfortable to have her husband over-rate her abilities in front of a stranger.
"Yes, you do!" Daniel laughed.
"Mister Curtis, I studied French at university a long time ago," Ingrid said. She leaned slightly forward across the table and, in a confessional tone said, "I can read it but a French person would laugh at me if they heard me speak it."
"The French do that to everybody, Ingrid. Especially the Parisians!" Matthew laughed loudly.
Daniel and Ingrid joined in the laughter.
"Yes," Ingrid said, as if to confirm a fact she already knew.
"Ah! Good man," Matthew said to acknowledge the return of the waiter. "Scotch for Mr. Sanders and..."
"Please, call me Dan," Daniel smiled.
"For Dan, and glasses for the lovely lady and me," Matthew said.
Ingrid noticed Matthew's eyes linger a moment on her and she demurely averted her gaze to the flickering candle on the table.
The waiter set down the glasses and positioned the silver ice bucket in its stand next to Matthew.
Daniel made an excited whooping sound when the champagne cork popped.
"Daniel!" Ingrid whispered loudly.
"She hates it when I do that," Daniel said. He grinned at Matthew and could feel Ingrid squeezing his hand tightly under the table. "She says only common people get excited by the sound of champagne being opened!"
"Common people?" Matthew laughed. He could tell by the way Ingrid had hunched her shoulders and bowed her head that she was becoming increasingly embarrassed by her husband's remarks. He also sensed that Ingrid was not only well educated; she clearly came from a family with money, and this made him smile inwardly.
Daniel laughed again and then reached for his drink.
"What shall we drink to?" Matthew asked. He raised his glass to his guests and waited.
"To The Roundhouse!" Daniel said. He clinked his glass against Matthew's and then Ingrid.
"To The Roundhouse!" Matthew said.
Ingrid repeated the salute, but failed to produce the same level of enthusiasm.
Each sipped their drink.
"Well, since it's been mentioned, let's get down to business," Matthew said.
Ingrid was already feeling tense from just the mention of the club. She sat silently, focused her attention on the stem of her champagne flute and twirled it in her fingers.
Matthew led the discussion with Daniel and asked a variety of background questions, such as how they'd heard about the club.
"A business associate told me about it," Daniel said.
"Really? Is he a member?" Matthew asked.
"He is a she, actually," Daniel said.
Ingrid glanced briefly at her husband. She had never been jealous with him before, and wasn't now, but she had assumed he was talking about a male business associate when he first proposed the idea of joining the club to her.
"Really? Do I know her?" Matthew asked.
"I think so. Her name is Alex."
"Ah! Mistress Alex. Yes, I know her well!" Matthew watched Ingrid closely for her reactions. He enjoyed the way she clearly felt uncomfortable.
Ingrid looked off in no particular direction as she raised her glass and swallowed another large mouthful of champagne.
Daniel continued. "So anyway, Alex mentioned the club several months ago to me. She said she wasn't allowed to say much, but that if I was interested, she would propose me for membership."
"And your lovely wife, of course," Matthew said.
Ingrid glanced briefly at Matthew and then looked down again.
"Well, yes, of course!" Daniel laughed at his own oversight.
"What do you think of all this, Ingrid?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know," Ingrid half-shrugged. "It's all Daniel's idea."
"I see," Matthew said.
Daniel felt suddenly uneasy about his wife's sudden disinterest. "No it wasn't!" he protested with a laugh.
Ingrid's expression remained solemn.
There was a long silence as each person contemplated the situation.
"My dear, if you're having second thoughts about this, please speak up now," Matthew said.
Ingrid shrugged her shoulders again. She desperately wanted to speak privately with her husband but couldn't summon the courage to ask.
Matthew looked across the table at Daniel who in turn responded with a brave smile.
"Ingrid?" Daniel discreetly pulled his wife's hand to his crotch and forced her to feel his largely erect cock.
Ingrid burst into a fit of giggles and pulled her hand away.
Matthew smiled curiously at her and then more broadly when Daniel started to laugh.
"If you don't want to join with me, I can always ask Samantha," Daniel said.
Ingrid immediately prickled at the mention of the name. "Samantha?" Ingrid laughed derisively.
"Sure. Samantha would love it," Daniel said.
Ingrid knew her husband was just teasing her - a long, on-going private joke they shared about Daniel's secretary. She folded her arms on her chest and breathed deeply.
"Samantha?" Matthew asked. "You're losing me."
"It's nothing, Mister Curtis. It's my husband's secretary. She has more silicone in her body than brains!"
The sudden joke caught both Matthew and Daniel by surprise.
"Ingrid!" Daniel said in a tone of mock indignation.
"Well, it's true," Ingrid said. She made no attempt to hide her true feelings.
"Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a minute," said Matthew.
"No!" Daniel laughed.
"Yes!" Ingrid replied simultaneously.
"No," Daniel repeated, this time emphasizing the word to make it clear he was becoming annoyed with his wife.
Matthew watched the minor dispute closely but didn't interrupt or leave the table.
"Alex said we'd need to sign some forms," Daniel said.
Matthew smiled at Daniel's sudden business-like manner. "Yes. It's quite straight forward, really. There's a consent form that includes a non-disclosure clause among other things."
As he spoke, Matthew retrieved a red leather slip-folder from his briefcase and placed it on the table in front of Daniel. "You must read and sign the non-disclosure statement on the front page before continuing. Basically, it simply says that from now on, everything you read in the contract as well as everything you may witness of club activities from this point on is to remain secret. It's a standard non-disclosure form..."
"Yes, we use them all the time in my business too," Daniel said. He quickly skimmed the wording, reaching for his pen as he read, and then signed at the bottom.
"Are you sure?" Ingrid asked when Daniel presented her with his pen.
"Yes," Daniel nodded.
"I'm only doing this for you, you know?" she said.
Daniel smiled kindly at his timidly insecure and loving wife. "Yes, I know, and I love you for it."
Matthew also smiled, but his motives were entirely different. He had been around long enough to read the signs and hear the hidden subtext of their words. 'She has absolutely no idea what she's getting herself into,' Matthew thought to himself. 'A perfectly innocent and trusting woman who I think will be a pleasure to corrupt, debauch and train.'
To be continued...