Page 9 of Naughty November
“Can you pass me my backpack, Jacob?” Atticus asked.
Jacob glanced under the bar, then bent and retrieved Atticus’ pack.
“Here you go,” he said with a cheeky grin, passing it over.
Atticus grabbed his backpack, thanked Jacob, and headed out of the gaming parlor, winking at me to follow.
“Is this room as exciting as I’m expecting it to be?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Atticus commented.
I followed Atticus out of the gaming parlor and down a hallway towards the back of the building. He turned left past a door marked Office, and led me to another door with Bordello on it in brass letters.
He turned to me and smirked.
“Doesn’t look like much from the outside, I know. But just wait.”
He put the key in the lock and twisted it, then turned the handle and pushed the door open.
TWO
Pot lights switched on and gave a soft glow to the room. Atticus flipped a switch and a collection of antique-looking sconces turned on, illuminating the rest of the space.
“Shit. It’s huge.”
I met Atticus’ gaze, and he smiled and blushed adorably.
The door clicked shut behind us. I didn’t know what to look at. My eyes were drawn to multiple items. The space was arranged in discernible sections, the first being the recreation of a Victorian parlor, with a red rug, an antique settee, and a vanity with a mirror and stool. A rack of clothes separated it from another space that seemed to recreate a school classroom, with a blackboard, teacher’s desk and an antique student’s desk.
“Holy fuck,” I said.
“I know, right?” Atticus said, walking past the first two spaces and further into the room. He brandished his arm to a padded spanking bench.
“My favourite,” he said. “But there are so many possibilities.”
He gestured towards an expansive platform bed against the wall with a crosshatched metal grate above it, then some other vintagepieces of wooden bondage furniture. There was a St. Andrew’s cross on the wall between the classroom area and the bed.
“Oh, here’s the hitching post I told you about,” Atticus said, beckoning me over.
It was basically a wooden board with a metal ring in it, attached to the wall near the bondage furniture. The words “Hitching Post” were painted on it, and underneath someone had scrawled “For naughty ponies” in permanent chalk.
I swallowed, gazing at Atticus. “Are you a naughty pony, Atticus?”
He shrugged and drew his tongue across his top lip. “I could be. Maybe.”
“Hmm,” I said, the excitement of seeing all of this kink furniture going to my head. “I want to see you in the gear you brought.”
“Sure. Why don’t you have a closer look at everything while I go change,” Atticus said, heading to a space between the stocks and what looked like an actual Berkley Horse, if I wasn’t mistaken. I’d have to have a closer look at that.
For now, I gave Atticus space to change and walked back to the Victorian parlor setup, which was the least interesting thing I’d seen so far, but lovely in its historical flavor.
The settee itself was beautiful—upholstered in velvet, and quite a sizeable piece of furniture. There was enough space for two men to lounge comfortably together, and for three people to sit. The back of it was painted gold and scrolled with pretty designs. I ran my hand over the bumpy wood. The thought and care that had been put into creating such a space was evident. There was an antique lamp on a small wooden table, and a vanity with a velvet covered stool and an ornate mirror.
I glanced at my reflection, seeing my flushed cheeks and dark eyes. I was ready for anything, and I hoped that Atticus was prepared. I turned and peeked into the back corner of the room, glimpsing movement as he changed into his pup gear and persona. But I didn’t want to see him until he was ready, so I went to look at the clothing hung on the rack.
There was quite a lot of lingerie—both Victorian and modern—sized for men, and some robes and kimonos for lounging around halfnaked. Maybe this space could be useful after an intense scene, for some lazy aftercare.
“Luther?”