The Rapture

Jennifer was an interesting person and soon became a good friend. She was a few years older than me, having grown up on Long Island and attended two years of community college before joining Lebowski Partners. She was bright, energetic and from what I could tell, fun loving. She was insanely cute, with a short bob and a button nose. Her perky breasts filled out her t-shirt and her narrow waist expanded out to wide hips and a generous booty. She had a few well-placed tattoos that were apparent when she bent over (on her back) or sat down (on her ankles). She had multiple piercings in her ears and a pierced tongue. She always wore a necklace with a pendant that looked like a key with the number "7" engraved on the bow, which I presumed to be a gift from her boyfriend. She never discussed it and I never asked.

After two weeks on the job Mr. Van Arden asked me to work overtime on Saturday, to help with their twice a year inventory. It was a tedious job, with Jennifer, Don and me working from morning till late afternoon. There were five more racks of clothes to inventory when Don called it quits, leaving Jennifer and me to finish. As we were logging in the final rack, sometime after 7 p.m. a loud thumping music started reverberating through our workspace. The music was coming from above. If I wasn't mistaken, it was "Bad Girls" by Donna Summer.

"What the fuck Jennifer. Is there a disco upstairs?"

Jennifer hesitated before answering. "No ... ummm ... it's a special club."

"How special?"

"It's private, for members and invited guests."

"Have you been there?"

"I'd rather not say."

This was not like Jennifer. She was never guarded about anything we'd discussed. "Will you take me there? I'd like to check it out."

"It's not that kind of club ... it's ... it's kind of a sex club."

"Kind of a sex club?" I'm sure my voice was incredulous. But I was greatly intrigued. I wasn't going to let her off the hook. "I want to see it."

"No." Her answer was emphatic.

"Please?"

"No."

"What do I need to do to be invited?"

"A member needs to vouch for you."

"Are you a member?"

"No."

"Do you know a member?"

"Yes."

"Could you ask him if I could visit as his guest?"

"It's a her." She was starting to get annoyed at my persistence. "I'll tell you what. I'll ask her. If she says 'no' then you're going to drop this, OK?"

"Fine."

"Don't ask me about this again. I'll let you know if she says yes."

"All right."

"Let's finish this inventory and get out of here." Jennifer seemed eager to finish and leave. Not another word was spoken. I went back to my apartment more puzzled than ever. Jennifer was sitting on something good. I wanted to know what it was.

On Monday it was business as usual. Jennifer showed up for work, acting as if nothing was discussed on Saturday. I promised to keep my mouth shut , though it was difficult for me not to ask. It was torture. Of course Jennifer knew that I was anxious and seemed to me that she was enjoying my anxiety. Finally by Wednesday the suspense was killing me. I ran into Jennifer in the break room. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee. I put my arms on each side of her and my hands on the counter so she couldn't go anywhere.

"Can I help you?" she asked, with a knowing smile.

"You know what I want to know."

"Friday, 7 p.m. at the bar on the corner. Dress to impress." She wiggled under my arm and went back to work.

I raised my voice so she could hear me. "Will you be there?"

She nodded as she walked away. I found it strange that the usually bubbly Jennifer was playing her cards close to the vest. I suspected that all would become clear on Friday.

Chapter Four

Friday couldn't come soon enough. I was watching the clock as it made it slow journey to 5 p.m. and quitting time. Jennifer was businesslike, even distant that day, showing no outward signs of anxiety. I tried to strike up a conversation with her to get more information but was unsuccessful. She offered up excuses about how busy she was and avoided eye contact with me. The lack of information made me even more nervous. At 5:00 p.m. I raced back to my apartment, took a long hot bath, and carefully shaved my legs. The hot water dissolved the nervous energy that had been building up in me all day. Clean and relaxed, I picked out my sexiest outfit, a low cut red cocktail dress that was slit up the side almost to my hip. The shade of red was a perfect complement to my hair color. I found the matching shoes with four and a half inch heels. I looked at the floor length mirror, turning sideways and noting that the dress showed off my legs to their best advantage and that the heels made my lines long and seductive. I put on my night time make-up and rifled through my jewelry collection, selecting a diamond pendant necklace my mother gave to me as a college graduation present. I saw myself as slutty, glamorous and desirable.

I took a cab to the bar (that I had never visited before), noting that it was only a half a block from my office. The sun had already set, and the faint glow of the overhead street lamps was casting weak shadows on the broken concrete of the sidewalks. The bar itself looked a bit shop worn on the outside, with the dark red exterior paint peeling, showing the black paint underneath. The door itself was marred with numerous cuts and nicks from years of use. The inside was actually worse. The wooden floor was uneven, there were photographs on the wall of celebrities that visited the bar, all of which were severely faded by the sun, and the clientele seemed to consist mostly of dock and construction workers.

Every head in the place swiveled to look at me when I entered. No doubt there were few women in the bar wearing tight cocktail dresses and heels. The light was so low I had to squint to spot Jennifer sitting in a booth in the back of the bar. I walked to the back, trying not to make eye contact with anyone until I reached Jennifer's table. When I arrived, I noticed she was sitting across from a well-dressed ebony haired woman with fine Eurasian features. Even in the low light her hair displayed a beautiful sheen. I guessed she was in her mid-30's. Jennifer moved over on the bench and patted her old spot, signaling me to sit there. Jennifer was wearing a plain white blouse, a black skirt and flats. She seemed subdued, with her head slung low, as if she was staring at her shoes.

"Good evening Elaine," the dark haired woman said in a melodious voice. "I'm Jasmine."

"It's good to meet you Jasmine." As I was talking to her I could see her eyes slowly scanning me before re-establishing eye contact.

The woman went on to casually mention, "My slut tells me that you wish to visit the Club."

When she said the word "slut" it felt as if a dagger was thrust into my chest. Was she calling my friend Jennifer a slut?

I sat up straight on the bend. "You mean Jennifer," I corrected.

"I mean my slut." She said it with forcefulness and certainty. She looked at Jennifer, who still had her chin almost touching her chest. "Isn't that right, slut?" she asked, putting emphasis on the word "slut."

Jennifer nodded weakly, never making eye contact with either of us.

Jasmine barked out an order. "Show your friend your tits, slut."

I was aghast at her request, and even more shocked when Jennifer, with her head still low, unbuttoned her blouse, unclasped the front hook on her bra, and displayed her breasts in the semi-privacy of our booth (although anyone walking back to the bathroom would have seen her). Her breasts were breathtaking, perfectly conical and snow white topped with erect long pink nipples that were pierced with barbells. It was clear Jennifer was aroused by her public humiliation. My body reacted as well with a surge of adrenaline. My eyes were wide open.

"Do you like what you see Elaine?" She asked the question in a casual manner as if she was asking me if I liked her shoes.

I did. I nodded. I didn't know what else to do.

"Speak up Elaine."

"Yyyes." I was flustered. I was amazed at how Jasmine had immediately assumed control of not only Jennifer but of me.

Ignoring Jennifer's exposed breasts, Jasmine focused instead on me. "Why do you want to visit the Club?"

I was gathering the composure to answer. Jennifer was still sitting there with her blouse open and I was unable to turn my eyes away from them. A few of the bar's patrons had now noticed. Jasmine glared at them and they quickly scurried away.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

Her question recaptured my attention. I turned my eyes away from Jennifer's voluptuous breasts and to Jasmine's piercing brown eyes. "I want to know what goes on in the Club. Jennifer mentioned something about sex."

Jasmine laughed, throwing her head back and dangling her perfect hair behind her. I noticed her hair, make-up and complexion were flawless. She was a woman of intimidating beauty. She spoke to me as if she was commenting on something cute a three year old would say. "That's precious."

I looked at her, perplexed.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?"

I shook my head. "I guess I don't."

"We don't allow children in the Club."

That sleight got my back up. "I'm not a child."

Jasmine was nonplussed by my resistance. "That's seems to be a matter of opinion. Slut, is Elaine a child?"

"Yes, Mistress," she replied softly.

Jasmine looked at Jennifer as if Jennifer had unbuttoned her blouse on her own accord. "For heaven's sake, hook your bra and button up your blouse. Your tits are hanging out." Jennifer complied immediately, now looking embarrassed. Jasmine looked back at me. "What do you know about domination and submission?"

I recounted my experimentation with Rae and some of the fun I had at the sorority. She listened impassively until I was finished. "Children playing an adult game. You know nothing," she said dismissively.

I started to speak. She held up her hand to stop me. "Watch real submission."

"Slut, pleasure me with your tongue."

Jennifer wiggled under the table. I heard the rustle of garments and then the muffled sounds of her tongue lapping at Jasmine's cunt. It was hard for me to maintain a normal conversation with Jasmine when my co-worker was under the table giving oral sex to the woman I was speaking with.

Speaking down, Jasmine cooed, "That's right slut, push your tongue as far as you can inside me." I saw the Domme slightly shift her position on the bench, slouching slightly to allow Jennifer full access to her pussy. I couldn't believe that I felt moisture gathering in my panties. My breathing became shallower as the sounds of Jennifer's submission echoed in my head.

"You like this, don't you?" she asked me.

I was confused. Clearly a part of me was intensely aroused by this lewd act in public. Even though I fashioned myself as someone who colors outside the lines, this turn of events was way outside of my comfort zone.

"I don't know," I said truthfully.

She leaned forward and looked me in the eye. "I do." She then shuddered as an orgasm crested within her. My panties were sticking to my crotch. "Do you want to come to the Club with us?"

I felt as if my body was not mine to command. "Yes."

"There's one condition. You'll have to do whatever I ask of you. If you don't want to comply, your only option is to leave immediately. Is that understood?"

I didn't really understand. I had no idea what she was going to ask me to do, but judging by what she asked Jennifer to do in a public place I knew it was going to be kinky and crazy. "Yes," I replied, going against my better judgment. I was plunging down a rabbit hole. I wasn't sure I was ever going to see the light of day again. At a minimum, my life would never be the same. I was hearing Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" playing in my head.

"Get up slut, we're finished here." Jennifer emerged from under the table. Her face was slickened with her Mistress's pussy juice. She made no effort to wipe it off.

Jasmine slid off her side of the bench. "Come along." We followed behind her. She was wearing an elegant business suit with a short skirt and impossibly high black stilettos. Her hair swayed back and forth as she strode confidently out of the bar to the stares of all of the patrons in the bar. We followed her as if we were her shadows.

We walked back to my office and into the tiny lobby of the building. Jasmine picked up the telephone that was next to the elevator. The phone had no dial on it. "Mistress Walker with two guests." I couldn't hear the reply, but Jasmine must have been cleared to go up. All three of us got into the small elevator. Jasmine pushed "5" and the elevator groaned as it carried us up into the unknown.

Chapter Five

My initial impression of the Club was underwhelming, to say the least. The elevator door opened directly into the reception area. It was a sorely outdated reception desk manned by someone who looked like she was on a work release program. The area itself looked like an industrial space that was still in its original state from the 1940's.

With Jasmine, we must have been in the presence of Club royalty. The clerk snapped to attention and waved us in without question. Jasmine took us to a small pseudo locker room where you could leave your clothes. Jennifer went to one of the lockers and started removing all of her clothes. I looked at Jennifer and then looked at Jasmine, wondering what I should do. What I did in the next minute would define the next several years of my life.

I swear I didn't make this decision consciously. It must have been ingrained in my DNA. I just didn't know it. But my subliminal thoughts popped up at the surface at this exact moment. I started undressing. I was watching my fingers slide my dress off, unhook my bra and then discard my clothes in a bin (to be retrieved later). I actions indicated that I was a sub. I just didn't consciously know it. And now I was in the hands of a professional Domme. I wanted to play the role and see if it fit me. I have to admit I was really turned on by watching Jennifer's submission to Jasmine.

Jennifer walked out of the room, following Jasmine, and I followed behind the two of them as they navigated familiar territory. We negotiated through a narrow hallway with people coming the other way, stopping at an open area to our right with sofas lined against the wall. There were people in various states of undress making love, or their version of it. I'd never seen semi-public sex before and I liked what I saw. It made me hot. We continued on, this time in a room to our left that featured a mat lined floor that was conducive to group sex. Here there were subs having sex with one another as their Mistresses and Masters watched. It was a hedonistic experience watching a mass of men and women having sex with each other. My legs were already starting to shake. I wanted desperately to find out what Jasmine had in store for us.

We finally came to a door titled "Pandora Room 7." Jennifer knelt on the floor and bowed her head. Mistress Jasmine leaned forward and removed Jennifer's necklace. The pendant was in fact a key to this room. I never saw Jennifer without that pendant. Mistress Jasmine unlocked the door.

As we entered she told us matter of factly, "Lars designed this room," as if I was supposed to know what that meant. I saw Jennifer nod her head in agreement. I'd ask her later.

"Slut, sit in the corner and finger yourself but don't cum." Jennifer went in the corner and sat with her knees wide apart, slowly fingering her dripping wet pussy. Mistress Jasmine ignored Jennifer but I was watching her out of the corner of my eye. It was a hot scene.

"All right, you're new. You've stripped off all of your clothes and are sure acting like a sub. Are you a sub?"

I had already decided with my actions. "Yes, Mistress."

A subtle smile emerged on her face. "We'll see. I'm not going to have a safe word with you because you will just leave if you don't like what is happening. Are we in agreement with that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"This is going to be interesting with two subs." Mistress Jasmine looked over at Jennifer, who was still working away at her pussy. "Slut, come over here and kneel next to your friend."

Jennifer knelt next to me with her bottom resting on her heels and her chin lowered and eyes down. I imitated her pose. "Now sluts ... I can't call you both sluts. What should I call you?" she said, looking directly at me.

"Elaine," I proclaimed, though not with my usual bravado.

Mistress Jasmine put her hand under my chin so we were staring at one another. "Whore," she said with a tinge of disdain.

She leaned further forward so her face was inches from mine. "What's your name?" she sneered, her hot breath hitting my face.

My brain was screaming "Elaine!" My body was commanding my lips. "Whore," I cried out. My body had absolutely no shame.

"Good," she replied with satisfaction. "I'll call you whore. Now slut, you go over to the St. Andrew's cross and face away from me." Jennifer walked to a large wooden "X" that had cuffs fitted on it. She faced away from us. Her rounded bottom was begging for attention. Mistress Jasmine secured the cuffs and then signaled me with her finger to move closer.

"Whore. Have you ever seen anyone flogged?"

"Not in person, Mistress."

"So you've seen a video of a flogging?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much so, Mistress."

"Watch me whore. Slut is going to beg for more." Mistress Jasmine sauntered over to a wall holding a variety of spanking devices. She selected a flogger with a short handle and many falls. She was casually flexing her wrist, causing the falls to swish back and forth like a horse's tail. She walked behind Jennifer so that Jennifer could hear the falls as they snapped in unison. Mistress Jasmine continued this for a few minutes. Jennifer's body was shaking as if she was crying. Then I heard her say "Please Mistress."

Mistress Jasmine smiled and her eyes squinted. She was pleased. Jennifer called out again, though this time her plea was more urgent. "Please Mistress. I beg of you."

"Beg what from me, slut?"

"Please hit me."

She looked at me. She held out the hand that was holding the flogger and thrust it in front of me. "Take this and hit her."

I hesitated, then took the flogger and stood next to Jennifer. I took a tentative swipe at her ass. It sounded like a wet noodle hitting flesh.

Jasmine was displeased. "Hit her whore or I'm going to lash you to the cross in her place."

I took the measure of the distance and pulled my arm back and tried to swing as hard as I could. The sound was much more in line with what I expected. I looked at her bottom. There were a few small red spots and not much more.

Jasmine moved me aside with her hand and pointed to the floor. I knelt next to her as I had been taught. She stood much closer and instead of her whole arm she used mostly her forearm and her wrist. The result was much more pronounced. Jennifer lurched forward at impact and grunted. She then relaxed her muscles and uttered, "Thank you Mistress." There were red lines across her bottom. She continued to flog her, varying the speed and the location of the strike until Jennifer's bottom had a uniform red glow. There was an unmistakable odor of sex in the air. Jennifer's cunt was literally dripping.

"Look whore, slut's pussy tells me what I need to know. Right now slut wants to cum and will do anything so that she can. Isn't that right slut?"

"Yes, Mistress," she quickly replied.

Mistress picked up a Hitachi wand off the wall rack and plugged it in. She pushed the head up against Jennifer's pussy. "Oh ... ohhhhhhh ... ohmygod," she started saying over and over as Mistress Jasmine moved the vibrator against Jennifer's soaked pussy. "Please, please, please," she pleaded. Mistress Jasmine looked at me as if she was asking me a question. It dawned on me that she was asking me if she should let Jennifer cum. Jennifer looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. I gave an almost imperceptible nod.