The next few days Willow found it hard to concentrate on work. With all that she had seen, those two displays of strange pleasure, all she could think about was the way Tara had looked at her. The anger and confusion in her Mistresses' eyes, it chilled Willow to the bone.
Wait. She had referred to Tara as her Mistress, did that mean Willow would be strung up with chains, tied up in a chair, beaten on all waking moments? The redhead shuddered and looked down at her hands. Would she like that sort of thing? I mean she hadn't really went fleeing from the room seeing all of that, she had stayed and learned a bit.
But there were hundreds of rooms besides the TWO she had went to. What on earth was she going to do?
Sulking each day Willow debated weather to call or not, deciding each time that Tara was probably still angry with her and she should just get over it.
Finally that Friday, the phone rang, while Willow lay huddled in her bed. She rolled over slowly, figuring it was Buffy and picked up the phone with boredom.
"I'm not coming out again, so don't ask." Willow mumbled.
"Who do you think you're talking to!" Tara's voice boomed in Willow's ear making her jump.
Willow said nothing until she was urged to respond.
"Figure it out yet?"
"Yes, Mistress." Willow whispered.
"That's better." Tara let out a long breath, annoyance, pleasure, Willow had no idea. "Meet me tonight, outside the club."
Willow nodded, but realized she was on the phone and answered in a tiny breath. "Okay."
This time Willow took a bit more effort in her dress attire. She put the leather pants Buffy had lent her the first night with a white tank top. She decided against the bra, mainly because she knew she had to present herself accordingly. Not sure why she thought this, but the idea of showing more flesh perhaps would please Tara.
She caught a cab and walked carefully up the stairs with her heels. The bouncer this time merely looked at Willow and opened the door instantly.
Willow wasn't greeted by the same man but the female waitress that served their drinks when she first had come. Without saying a word a small glass was forced into her hands and was being tipped up to her lips all in one fluid motion.
Not sure what it was, it tasted funny, more so than the River Red. It hit just as hard if not more so. The room began to spin slightly, and the flickering lights bounced off Willow's pale skin.
Rubbing her fingertips together, and enjoying the way the texture and sweat mingled, she laughed. Feeling utterly sexy, Willow began to sway with the music, dragging her hands up and down her thighs and tingling with each touch.
Making her way to the dance floor Willow felt bold and compelled herself to dance in an erotic motion.
Willow felt great. Better than she ever had in her entire life. Her head lolled upwards and watched the caged dancers, licking her lips at the sight of a tiny blonde. Her eyes focused on her firm buttocks and her graceful thighs. She could almost taste the sweat that lingered on the small woman's brow.
She didn't jump or even remove her eyes when a pair of hands wrapped around her own ass. Willow just moaned to the touch and backed up into a soft, apparently, female body.
It wasn't Tara, Willow knew that for a fact, but she didn't care. At this point any touch was better than none at all.
She turned then and was confronted with another redhead. A different kind of red than herself, more pale and much taller. The woman smiled, flashing a bright toothy grin and pulling Willow to her.
Laughing Willow pressed her body to her and the two began to grind in time. Willow could practically feel her arousal dripping down her leg and each trust of the other woman's pelvic brought Willow closer to an edge she had never experienced.
But before it came to that the woman stopped and leaned close to Willow's ear. "Good stuff isn't it?"
"What is?" Willow asked smiling again. She couldn't shake the happiness coursing trough her.
"Ecstasy." The woman responded licking up Willow's ear.
"What?" Willow asked confused, but the woman was gone, weaving in and out of dancers just as quickly as she had come.
"Drugs." Willow sighed looking up again at the caged blonde. Well if this is what drugs felt like it was great.
A blur of blonde and Tara's sweet sent passed over Willow's nostrils. Whipping around she tried to find her Mistress. This proved difficult, with all the people dancing wildly and it being so dark.
Then she spotted her, or the back of her. That long golden mane glittering in the strobe lights. She was heading to the door and Willow was quick on her heels.
Gasping for air Willow made it to the door and shoved her body weight into it. It opened with ease and once again the darkness engulfed her. But this time she was too hipped up and drugged up for that matter to care.
Willow's hands went out to her sides touching the cool surface of the stone walls as the stairs tumbled downward.
Without realizing it her palms were digging into the tiny rocks, but it felt strangely wonderful. A twinge of pain mixed with excitement splashed in and out of Willow's stomach, making her throat erupt with a little groan.
She reached the first landing and removed her hands from the walls. Pain shot up her arm and Willow looked down at her now bleeding hands. Thought was gone as her head dipped down and licked the salty liquor off her pale skin. What possessed her to do this was beyond her, but it was the most empowering feeling.
Still moving and surprising even herself Willow made it to the main corridor with the many doors.
Adrenaline tore open the tiny redhead as she eased toward one of the closed doors. Her hand shaking she turned the cold brass handle and shock was the only thing she could muster from what lay before her.