curiousity got the cat chapter 4

[inkless1980]

Chapter 4: The Unveiling
That night when Linda and Robert were having sex it seemed more primal than passionate. This did not go unnoticed by Robert. Doggie style was always one of their favorite positions. While on her hands and knees Linda imagined being tied to the bed. Just the thought of being restrained had really turned Linda on. When they both finally got off they were exhausted. Without saying anything they both cleaned up a little and went to sleep.

The following morning Robert kissed Linda goodbye,thanked her for the previous evening and let Linda know that he may be a few hours late getting home. The president of the company wanted to go over a few things when he knew neither one of them would be disturbed. This happened periodically.

Donna sent Linda a text asking how she was and if she wanted to go to the gym later that afternoon.

Linda looked at her phone and was a little unsure if she wanted to respond but after a brief ponder replied “I can be there between 4:30 and 5:00.”


Linda, dressed in her workout leggings and sports bra, arrived at Donna’s house at 4:40 PM. Her nerves were jangling. She’d spent the afternoon trying to stay busy, but the memory of the day before kept running through her head. The feeling of fear and the rush that came with it would not escape her thoughts.

Donna was waiting outside, already in the driver’s seat of her SUV, engine running. She rolled down the window and waved Linda over.
Donna was dressed in a black pair of form fitting jeans and a tight blouse that accentuated her athletically toned body and a pair of pumps. Donna explained that she was running a little late and would change at the gym.

Linda slid into the passenger seat, buckling up quickly. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, fingers twisting together. Donna pulled out smoothly, heading in the direction of the gym.

They drove in silence for a minute. Linda glanced at Donna, then out the window, heart beating faster than it should. Donna’s presence felt different today—calmer, more deliberate.

Donna broke the quiet first, voice casual but probing. “So… did you and Robert have sex last night?”

Linda’s head snapped toward her. The question came out of nowhere, personal and blunt. Her cheeks flushed instantly. “I— What?”

Donna kept her eyes on the road, a small smile playing at her lips. “Come on. I can tell. You’ve got that look. You did, didn’t you?”

Linda opened her mouth, closed it. She looked down at her hands, suddenly aware of how tightly they were clasped. “That’s… private.”

Donna chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She turned onto a main road, but Linda noticed they’d missed the turn toward the gym. Her stomach tightened.

Donna continued, the tone still light. “Was it more intense than usual? Let me guess—you were thinking about something else the whole time. Maybe the basement. Maybe the way your body reacted when I snapped that towel. I bet you came harder than normal.”

Linda’s face burned. She pressed her thighs together, mortified that Donna had guessed so accurately. She stared out the window, voice barely audible. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Donna laughed again, low and knowing. “You don’t have to say anything. Your body’s already answering for you.”

Linda’s breath hitched. She glanced at the road signs—they were heading south, away from the gym, toward the city. Her pulse raced. “Donna… where are we going?”

Donna flicked on the turn signal, merging onto the highway. “Not the gym.We're going to the club. You wanted to know more about it.You’re going to see it.”

Linda’s hands flew to her lap, fingers digging into her jeans. “Wait—I didn’t say—”

“You said you wanted to hear about it,” Donna replied, voice steady. “Watching is better than hearing. And you already promised to keep it between us. You’ll be safe.”

Linda stared ahead, heart hammering. The highway stretched out, leading them toward the warehouse district. She felt the familiar mix of dread and curiosity twist inside her again—stronger this time. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she sat silently, thighs pressed tight, as the city began to rise in the distance.

They pulled into an unmarked lot behind a nondescript building with a tall privacy fence. Donna parked, then reached into the glove compartment and pulled out two masks: simple black lace, covering the eyes and upper face, leaving the mouth free. She fastened one over her own face first, then handed the other to Linda.

“Rule one,” Donna said. “Anonymity. Everyone wears these. No names, no faces. Just roles.”

Linda tied the mask on. The world shifted slightly—shadowed, intimate.

Donna clipped a simple black leather collar around Linda’s neck—soft, snug, with a small silver ring at the front. From the center console she produced a short black leash, snapping it to the ring with a quiet click.

“Subs wear these,” Donna explained. “Keeps things clear.”

Linda touched the collar and leash, heart thudding. It felt like a brand, even if no one outside would know
.
Inside, a small foyer with velvet curtains led to the main space. Donna signed them in at a discreet desk manned by a masked attendant, using a membership number rather than names. The club had reserved tables by membership numbers; some members knew each other by sight or number, others didn’t.

The main room opened before them: low lighting from chandeliers, leather couches, private alcoves, a central stage. The air hummed with moans, gasps, and the wet sounds of bodies.

No whips cracked, no paddles smacked—tonight’s theme was raw, sensual indulgence. In one corner, a collared woman knelt between a man’s thighs, head bobbing as she took him deep into her throat, saliva glistening on her chin, his hands tangled in her hair, guiding her rhythm. Nearby, on a plush rug, two subs—collared male and female—were locked in a sixty-nine, her hips grinding against his tongue, his cock disappearing into her mouth, both moaning around each other. In an alcove, a dominant woman sat on a throne-like chair, her sub’s face buried between her legs, tongue working her clit in slow, deliberate circles while she pinched her own nipples, back arching.
Linda’s cheeks burned beneath the mask. She felt out of place in her leggings and sports bra amid the lingerie and nudity. Fortunately,Donna was even more over dressed than her. Periodically ,Donna tugged the leash gently. It was a humiliating pull that kept her hyper-aware of her role. She stayed close to Donna, head down, trying to disappear into the shadows, but the sounds and sights pressed in—wet slurps, low groans, the slick slide of bodies—making her thighs clench involuntarily. The shame of being leashed like an animal while strangers fucked openly around her made her face flame hotter, her breath shallow. She wanted to bolt, but the mask and the promise kept her rooted
.
Donna led her to a reserved table near the back, unclipping the leash and setting it aside once they were seated. A server brought whiskey for Donna and water for Linda without being asked.

“Observe,” Donna murmured. “Let it sink in.”

After a few minutes a tattooed man approached: broad-shouldered, ink swirling across his arms and chest—dragons, thorns, intricate patterns—his own mask, a simple black band. On a leash attached to her collar was a petite sub, blonde hair cascading down her back, eyes downcast.

He nodded respectfully to Donna, voice gravelly. “New pet?”

Donna sipped her drink. “Fresh. Still needs training.”

The man eyed Linda up and down, ignoring her as if she were furniture. “Hot piece of ass. Those curves… bet she’d look good on her knees.”
Linda’s humiliation burned deeper than before. Being discussed like livestock while the sounds of sex filled the room—someone nearby moaning in climax—made her want to shrink into the seat. She pressed her thighs together, mortified that her body was responding despite the shame.

“She’s got potential,” Donna said casually. “Responsive.”

The man chuckled, tugging his sub’s leash. She crawled forward, pressing her cheek to his thigh. “Train her right, she’ll beg for it.”

Their conversation continued—dissecting Linda’s “novice vibes,” how she’d “break beautifully”—all while Linda sat frozen, waves of shame crashing over her. The anonymity of the mask protected her identity but left her feeling utterly exposed.

Finally Donna stood. “Enough for tonight. Let’s head home.”

Donna reattached the leash for the walk out, then removed it in the parking lot before they got into the car. The collar stayed on until they were safely inside Donna’s SUV.

The ride back was tense, city lights blurring past..
Donna broke the silence first, voice low. “What did you think of the whole thing?”

Linda stared straight ahead, voice small. “It was… interesting.”

Donna’s laugh was soft, knowing. “It must have been more than interesting. You’ve soaked through to your leggings!”

Linda’s eyes dropped to her lap. A dark patch bloomed across the crotch of her leggings unmistakable even in the dim dashboard light. Heat flooded her face. She covered it with both hands, mortified.

“Oh my gosh! How long has it been like that?” she whispered, voice cracking. “Did anyone else notice?”

Donna kept her eyes on the road. “It was too dark to see in there. But here in the car? I can smell it.”

Linda pressed her thighs tighter together, humiliation crashing over her in waves. The scent of her own arousal filled the small space—musky, undeniable. She felt exposed all over again, the club’s sounds still echoing in her ears, her body’s betrayal now impossible to hide. She wanted to disappear.

When Linda got back home she had time to shower and freshen up before Robert got home.

He came in late, briefcase in hand, kissing her cheek distractedly. “Hey, hon. Still working on the new client—big one. Got more work to do tonight. You go on to sleep; I’ll be up late.”

Linda nodded, disappointment twisting in her gut. She had gotten all worked up that evening—the club, the sights, the humiliation, the damp heat between her legs—and she’d secretly hoped for release with Robert. But he disappeared into his office, the door closing softly.
She climbed into bed alone, body restless, mind spinning. She tried to sleep, but the frustration built—her clit still throbbing faintly, the memory of being leashed and discussed like an object refusing to fade. Eventually exhaustion won. She drifted off, dreams soft and sensual: warm skin sliding against hers, slow kisses trailing down her body, lovers taking their time to worship every inch—no commands, no audience, just endless, tender pleasure.
But when she woke in the dark, hand drifting between her legs almost without thought, she whispered the words to the empty room:
“This stays between us.”