Page 23 of What's the time, Mr. Wolfe
“Maybe.” He licked his lips and those brilliant white teeth flashed at me.
“I was half expecting a dental plan with my contract.”
“What the fuck is it with you and teeth?” he asked, backing the car out.
“Nothing, just thinking aloud.”
“Ask for one to be put in. A contract is to be negotiated, not immediately accepted,” he replied, not focussing on me, but his manoeuvre.
It was my turn to chuckle. He stared at me and then shook his head.
It took only ten minutes to drive to a dingy backstreet and park outside an even dingier, black painted building.
“Looks like the bloody London Dungeon,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the smell of piss as I opened the car door.
He chuckled and continued to laugh. “What did I say?”
“That’s about the best description I’ve heard,although I don’t think we’d get away with using that name.”
The club wasn’t open since it was a weekday. Sebastian told me they only opened Friday through to Sunday, and then one night in the week for special DJs. However, upstairs apparently seemed to be. He picked up my hand and walked me down a side alley a little way, to a small black door manned by a security guard. Probably one of the largest I’d ever seen. He nodded at Sebastian and opened the door for him. We were met by a flight of stairs.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked. “Remember, you are only here to the assess the place for internal renovation purposes, that’s all.”
I frowned at him. “Strippers, that’s what I’ll see, isn’t it?”
“You might do.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Lead the way.”
I followed him up the stairs to a large foyer. More security and a receptionist greeted him immediately. That area was quite welcoming and bright. I wondered how that could be since there were no windows. He didn’t introduce me to anyone.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked.
“A Coke might be nice,” I replied, and before I finished my sentence, a waiter appeared by his side.He placed the order, one Coke for me, a whiskey for him.
He stared at me again. “What now?” I asked, getting agitated.
“I’m not sure this a good idea. Let’s go,” he said, surprising me.
“Wait. What?”
“This isn’t a good idea.” He reached for my wrist, and I pulled it back.
“I’m a big girl, Sebastian. Whatever is through those doors, isn’t going to faze me.”
The waiter appeared and I took my Coke. Eventually, he took his whiskey.
He picked up my wrist again, not holding my hand, but wrapping his around my skin, and marched me to a set of double doors.
It opened, as if by magic, and we walked in.
My heart was in my mouth, and it raced at a pace I wasn’t sure my lungs could keep up with. I stood, wide-eyed, and open-mouthed at the sight in front of me.
Women were dangling from the ceiling by ribbons, some were strapped to metal circles that gently turned. All were naked.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I started to see more. Couples, triples, were fucking on large beds. Orgies were all around me.
I let Sebastian take my hand at that point, toostunned to protest. I’d known I wasn’t walking into a bloody book club, but hadn’t expected that.
