Michou's Secret Garden 

My First Outing at Club Saphyr

 

 

  An encounter with a gentle man:

"Est-ce que vous parlez français?" Surprized as I was, this is the way a grey bearded man made contact with me, while I was sipping a beer, perched on a high stool, at the bar of this Montreal fetish club. I had been seated there for at least twenty minutes and it was my first time there.

Today is wednesday and we are in the middle of the month of July 2001. This is a day off for me and, even if it is a bit too warm outside to wear a wig and a corset, there was no way for me to stay quietly at home. A lady has the right to live her own life! Don't you think?

At the last minute, this afternoon, a freind of mine called off our planned outing in town for the night. I was a little bit deceived but, after a few moments of hesitation, I decided to connect to Club Saphyr website. It is a new fetish club in town which is also used as a meeting place for a Montreal BDSM Group. After I finished reading the large amount of informations contained on their website, I rushed to start my transformation. As it was already late, I just did the strict minimum. The end result did not happen to be very sensational but it was good enough to go out in a dark environment. At least, this is what I hoped for.

The traffic, on the road to Montreal, was heavier than I expected and to find a parking space for my car took a lot of time. But, finally, I found myself with my skirt in the wind and I started to hear the sound of my high heeled mules on the sidewalk (see the picture at the start of this text). It was around ten o'clock at night when I reached the club, on the second floor, after the climb of some very treacherous stairs. It was not too bad a time to make my entry there!

Despite the very low level of light, I made a quick tour of the main foor to find that there was many pieces of torture equipment dessiminated where was probably ounce a dancing space. Only a few men, mainly dressed (I should say undressed, in certain cases) with leather, and two beautiful ladies seemed to be present. When I asked him questions, the club manager was quick to inform me that, in spite of the apparent low level of activities, at this time of the evening, based on his own experience, there could happen much more action later in the evening.

I seated myself at the bar and ordered a beer. The large mirror, in front of me, allowed a surveillance of the movements of people behind me. There was not too much action there till my grey bearded man made contact with me.

By the way, let us come back to him! He comes to the bar, right beside where I sit, and order, in french, two drinks. The barmaid does not seem to understand so he starts over again, but this time in english. He says something about language but I do not understand very well and I am a litlle too shy to pay too much attention to him. As I do not react, to my surprise, he then clearly addresses himself to me asking if I speak french. I cannot beleive he speaks to me. After a few moments of hesitation from my part, I answer his question and "the ice is broken".

He looks middle aged, average height. His hair are greying and so is his beard. Above all, he seems very gentle and shows a beautiful smile. A few minutes later, he offers me to join him and his friend. The amount of attention he gives me makes me feel so good, I follow him in a far away corner of the room, where I meet his friend.

After formal presentations, my gentle man asks me a lot of questions. Many are rather indiscretes. His friend is not very much involved in our conversation. So much that I do not feel at ease and I start to ask him questions in order to incorporate him in the conversation. A few minutes later, he leaves the club but not before he assures me that I have nothing to do with his early departure.

After his friend left, my gentle man, takes over his interrogatory and dig more and more into my intimacy. As my interest for him grows and I start to wonder what type of individual he is, I decide to answer his questions sincerely in the hope to know more about him.

About half an hour later, I had learned that he likes to dominate women, that he is not particularly fond of high heeled shoes, that it is his first close encounter with a transvestite, that he thinks I am lovely and that I make him start to leak precum (this is what he says). I feel very, very much flattered but, when he asks me if I feel excited about him, I plainly answer that I am not.

My answer brings a little bit of coldness in our conversation, but, at this very moment, a couple starts to give us a show right beside where we are and we start to watch them. A middle age, very handsome, asian man caresses feverishly the legs and feet of a beautiful girl, shaped like a goddess, and who wears superb vinyl pants which fits her like a glove and tremendously high heeled sandles. While we are watching them, my gentle man says that the sight of this wonderful girl with the tight pants makes him feel excited very much. Having in mind my own body which, by any standards, is not very sexy, I do not have to tell you that his words made me feel jealous. I am a woman after all!

But, my gentle man, who has got a lot of experience and knows more than one trick, takes over right away and let me know that, if I let him dominate me, I might as well find myself tied up tight on one of the torture equipment, already present in the room.

More shaken than surprised, the treats formulated by my newfound companion brings me to a high level of excitement. As soon as I can regain sufficient control over myself, I mumble some excuses and I vividly decline to offer myself in a public show. I must say that a large part of my excitement comes from the previous sight of a very large leather strap. But, something more frightening makes me say no to him. Because I did not have the time, neither my sex nor my ass were free of hair. Then, would you seriously think that a woman who has been told she is beautiful, a few minutes before, would accept to display, in front of anybody, a sex which does not show very feminine characteristics and awful body hair?

So, coming back to my gentle man, he is definitely in good control of himself. He righfully evaluates my weaknesses and decide to take me for a "ride". He orders me to go to the restrooms in order to have a closer look at the torture equipment, on display, in the room. After a few moments of hesitation, I go on.

Coming back to our table, my excitement is again more tangible and my gentle man takes this opportunity to deflate my balloon. In a manner I could not qualify as subtle, he announces that it is time for him to leave. My excitement loses its tempo and I even feel a bit deceived. While I was having a look at the torture equipement, I had made up my mind and decided to let myself tie up and put on display for the audience, whatever the consequences of my foolishness.

As we have decided that it is my turn to give him a ride to a convenient location for him, my gentle man follows me pretty closely while I try to negociate, on my heels, the treacheous staircase, on my way out of the Club. The fact that I let him dominate me, a few minutes ago, does not increase my self confidence and my ability to stand on my heels which feels much higher than I could have imagined.

On the sidewalk, which leads us to my parked car, he asks me to take a few steps in front of him so that he could watch me more easily, he says. Once again, I become more excited and I get the feeling that I do not know anymore how to walk on my high heels.

Once, both of us are seated in the car, I expect that he will bring the hem of my skirt up and caress my thighs with his hands. But, nothing like that happens. He does not make a move and I am kept on my appetite.

In spite of this little disappointment, I am so excited that, as soon as he gets down, on a street corner, I myself raise the hem of my skirt up and start to caress myself. I keep on doing it during the whole ride, on the way back home. On many occasions, I even have to reduce the rhythm of my caresses and take a break cause I am afraid to soil the bench of my car. Do I have to tell you that, as soon as I enter home, there is no way to refrain myself from having a marvellous orgasm.

Since our first meeting, my gentle man and I, kept in touch and our conversations are very exciting. Who knows what lays ahead for us in the future ...

Épilogue:

A few weeks later, the same man invited me to the "Gay Pride" festival and I accepted (see ). He also invited me, for a fetish party, in a swingers club (see ).