Free Memoirs of a Wild Child by Cassandra P Lewis

walls of the long corridor. The floor was tiled with granite slabs and ornate black chandeliers lit the deep red ceiling. At the end of the corridor was another red door, not like the thick metal one that we had entered through, minutes before, this one was a typical wooden-panelled door. The sound of music started to reach my ears the closer to the door we got. A sensual melody; it reminded me of an alternative burlesque show that I had attended in London a year earlier. A sign above the door was lit up, a replica of the sort you would see on the theatres of Broadway. It said ‘The Box Club’ and I eyed it and then Simon curiously as he reached for the handle of the door.
    As we stepped into the club, my eyes lit up. The room was circular, and the décor from the corridor carried through. There were deep red and black leather seating booths, some with platforms in the middle with girls dancing on them. The stage in the middle was round as well, and was currently home to the Jessica Rabbit lookalike who was singing whilst three other girls wearing French knickers and nipple tassels danced around her for the watching men in suits. The waitresses were dressed in sexy pin up style military dresses, their hair and makeup styled as though they had stepped out of the forties.
    There were five more red doors around the room; I was curious as to where they led as my wide eyes explored the room. Simon took my hand and started to lead me towards the bar.
    A heavily tattooed but absolutely stunning bartender approached, smiling wide as she asked what we would like. Simon ordered a bottle of champagne and told her that we would be in room four. I wanted to ask what that meant, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the private burlesque performance that was happening in a booth to my left. A man and a woman appeared to have paid for the dance and were totally enthralled. I guessed they were a couple and watched as the woman put her hand between her legs as the dancer in front of her twisted and turned fluidly. She was beautiful and part of me couldn’t blame the woman, I was a little turned on too. I felt Simon’s hand on my arm and looked up at him “Come on,” he said, smiling as he took my attention from the now openly masturbating couple and guided me around the room.
    We reached a red door with the number four painted on it in black. Simon punched a code into the keypad at the side of the door, and it clicked open. We stepped inside and the room was dark. I could make out the shape of an armchair but couldn’t see anything else. Suddenly, dim lights around the room, a table lamp and a chandelier turned on. The chandelier I noticed was hung, above a cage, in the middle of the room. The armchair was in front of the cage, and there was a large leather sofa on the opposite side. Simon took my hand and led me to the sofa, our champagne was already there waiting for us in an ice bucket. Simon poured us a glass as I looked around the room.
    In addition to the furniture in the middle of the room, there was an area at the back, where the floor appeared to have been turned into a sort of bed area. There were cushions and blankets arranged beautifully. This room was clearly designed for sex, I concluded, as I took in the décor, but honestly, it was stunning.
    We sat on the sofa in front of the cage, and Simon poured us both another drink; I had drunk the first so quickly while lost in my intrigue about this place.
    I didn’t know what to expect as I sipped and waited; Simon smiled at me and raised an eyebrow mischievously as I took a large gulp of champagne. A door at the back of the room opened. Two girls with a vintage pin-up look walked, no, sauntered into the room. They didn’t speak as they entered the cage and one of the girls locked the door, before throwing the key into my lap and eyeing me curiously; she smiled and bit her lip briefly. She was stunning. Her purple hair shone brightly under the lights above her and fell in large