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The electric gates swung open as we pulled into the driveway, and the curving driveway led us behind a high hedge to a surprisingly large but tasteful house. Nothing ostentatious, but tasteful and elegant.

The handwritten and hand-delivered invitation had been similarly tasteful and elegant, on thick, pale cream notepaper. Addressed to us both, the words were in a gorgeous looping hand in dark red ink, and signed “Carmen X”.

The invitation had suggested, in a hair’s breadth short of an instruction, that we attend her house at seven on Saturday, and she looked forward to seeing us then. Confident and self-assured, and irritatingly irresistible. As tempted as I was to be awkward and suggest a different date, we dutifully re-arranged a couple of things and agreed to attend. Invitations to Carmen’s house were virtually unheard of, and we might not get another chance.

The door was opened by Carmen’s husband, who was dressed in his usual club outfit. He wore hick black leather collar, black leather bolero, wrist and ankle cuffs to match his collar and a steel chastity cage. He didn’t speak, and I realised at that moment that I’d never heard him speak, but beckoned us in to the minimalist hallway.

We followed his bare arse down a hallway, then followed him down a curving set of stairs into a small sitting room. Carmen reclined on a velvet chaise longue, and invited us to sit opposite on a matching two seater sofa with a broad smile that showed off her perfect teeth and a sweep of her manicured hand.

“I’m drinking champagne,” she drawled with her slight Spanish accent, “Will you join me?”

No offer of a different drink, I note. A power play, and frustratingly effortless. V accepted immediately, clearly slipping under Carmen’s spell, and I went along and accepted too. The husband returns with the drinks almost immediately, and kneels at Carmen’s right side. She doesn’t acknowledge his existence, other then a brief scratch of her nails behind his ear.

Our hostess raises a glass as she makes eye contact first with V, then with me, and back to V, making a show of letting her eyes slide down over V’s cleavage and right down to her toes, then slowly back up with a grin.

Feeling like the third wheel already, I decide to try and win back some of the benefit. As gracious a host as Carmen would no doubt be, I knew she invited us along to score points against me as well as to enjoy V in new and mind-blowing methods.

“Darling,” I said, “Why don’t you show Carmen your new lingerie?” We’d spent an afternoon earlier in the week browsing the selection in a small yet wonderfully full boutique, and had settled on a pretty Agent Provocateur set that fit V perfectly and showed off her curves. Not the black that everyone seems to go for at the club, but something more colourful in orange and purple for the more personal and intimate setting we expected.

V blushed as she stood, but wasted no time in slipping out of her wrap dress, which she threw onto the back of the sofa next to me before turning back to Carmen, who smirked and sipped her champagne before getting to her feet. She studied V carefully, taking her time to appraise, before twirling her finger to indicate that V should spin slowly.

I knew the slow pace would be driving V wild, the detailed inspection before even being touched was something that I enjoyed torturing her with. Apparently Carmen had picked up on the same idea.

V’s nipples were hard and poking through the delicate hexagonal mesh, giving away exactly how much she was enjoying this. Carmen finally reached out her hand, touching her fingertips to V’s cheek and trailing them down her neck, along her clavicle and down. The deep red nails paused at V’s nipple and I saw my love flinch, expecting the harsh twist she’d told me Carmen enjoyed so much. The flinch made Carmen grin, and she stared into V’s eyes as she let her hand explore lower, sliding down to the waistband of the exquisite lingerie I’d purchased for the occasion.

Carmen hooked a finger into the waistband, turned and led V away through a velvet-padded doorway. I picked up my drink and followed, and the door closed behind us. Carmen’s husband brought his Mistress’s drink and placed it on a side table, before returning to his knees and crawling into a cage beneath a large four-poster bed.

This room didn’t have the minimalistic simplicity of the previous room, but was hung with dark curtains around three walls. One was drawn back where a St Andrew’s Cross was mounted firmly to the smooth concrete behind, and against the fourth wall stood a large and impressive four-poster bed, with the cage underneath where Carmen’s husband had taken himself.

Carmen herself had led V over to the St Andrew’s Cross, where my darling stood patiently waiting our hostess’s attention.

I settled myself on a leather sofa, and watched Carmen. She was short and curvy, yet carried herself with elegance. She wore a simple, tight black dress above her knee and spiky black heels. No sign of anything under the dress, I noticed as I took in the scene.

She drew back another curtain to expose a gigantic variety of toys. Everything from floggers to ballgags to nipple clamps and a pair of magic wands. A humbler, a selection of riding crops, an enema kit, many ropes and restraints and lots, lots more. For the first time I admitted to myself that I was envious of Carmen; her collection of toys and this amazing room put our own playroom to shame.

In a moment, Carmen stepped close to V and slipped the new bra off her shoulders. Pressing herself close, I saw V trying to smell Carmen’s hair, but in a second or less she had stepped back with the bra in her hand before throwing it at me. I pressed it to my nose, as I can never withstand doing, as Carmen unceremoniously hooked a finger into each side of V’s knickers. V made eye contact with me as I pressed them to my nose this time, knowing I’d be able to tell just how wet and needy she was.

While her attention was on me, Carmen attached a nipple clamp, and suddenly I was forgotten once more. A sharp gasp and a stifled moan was all that escaped her mouth, and she managed to contain any reaction at all as the second clamp bit into her.

She was tough, I reflected, but one way or another she was gonna be broken this evening.

Carmen was business-like now, and pulled V across to the St Andrew’s Cross by the chain that linked her nipples. A firm hand on the centre of her chest to guide her into position, then the practiced movements of an experienced domme as she secured my darling into position with arms and legs spread wide.

NSFW: yes

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