Romance Test

It's Magic!

Emilia is invited into an elegant office and offered a seat in a tall, luxurious armchair, across a coffee table from an identical chair, in front of a fireplace. Basically, Emilia feels as if she's on the set of a Sherlock Holmes series. As long as it's none of that slash fanfiction you enjoy so much, Milly. She throws a look at a large antique desk by the window. The room altogether is giving Emilia a 'barrister's office' vibe. Isn't there some sort of a contract usually involved in a BDSM relationship? The door opens, and Emilia jumps up to her feet.

Mistress Eva looks normal. She looks so normal that Emilia wonders for a moment whether this tall, elegant – medium-sized – woman in a stylish black dress is indeed one of the city's most prominent sex coaches.

"Good evening," the woman says and smiles at Emilia.

Even her smile is shockingly human. She's no slim statuette, radiating extraordinary charm and danger like Lara Pulver's character; nor is she a terrifying She-Hulk from those porn videos Emilia had tried to watch but couldn't stomach.

"Eva," the dominatrix introduces herself, and shakes Emilia's hand.

"Emily– Emilia. Evening," Emilia squeaks.

They both sit down, and Mistress Eva offers Emilia a drink.

"No, no, thank you," the writer protests. "I've had some red at the bar, and then there was the chardonnay with the crêpes, and then this man— I met him at the bar. He offered to join me, and we had crêpes," she hurriedly explains. "Daniel Oates. And after the pudding, we had this amazing Italian liquor."

Mistress Eva emits a soft laugh. "He must be rather smitten with you," she says and shakes her perfectly manicured finger at Emilia. "Daniel doesn't share his sweeties," she adds.

"But– Eh... What?!"

Mistress Eva pours two glasses of water; and Emilia grasps hers like a drowning man at a straw. Oh that would be horrible writing, if put in her book. A water related cliché right next to an actual discussion of water, conflicting and repetitive at the same time? Shame on you, Milly.

"I assumed it's just the etiquette of this place," Emilia rasps out and downs her water. It has a pleasant tinge of mint and lemon flavour. "Being– um... Chummy with each other."

The dominatrix gives Emilia a pensive look from under a raised, perfectly shaped eyebrow, and pours more water for Emilia.

"There's no specific etiquette in the lounge and the restaurant of the club," Mistress Eva says, also taking a sip of water. Her lipstick leaves no trace on her glass. "People are expected to behave in a courteous, respectful way towards each other, just as in any other establishment. It is only behind the closed doors of the private rooms where the play starts. You've simply had a normal dinner with a man, nothing out of the ordinary."

The woman can't be any further from the truth of what counts as ordinary in Emilia's life!

"The lounge and the restaurant are the safe space for people to approach each other, but there's no expectation that the other person must return the attention in any way," the dominatrix continues. "You have every right to refuse an invitation. Some people come, have a drink, and then leave if they don't feel like socialising. Furthermore, we do not encourage anything beyond bondage play between our customers and/or our staff in the walls of The Top. Any sort of suxual activity between our customers is to take place outside our club."

Emilia is slowly drinking her water to gather her thoughts. By the third sip she decides to behave professionally: to focus on the woman in front of her who is an expert with the information Emilia can obtain. She must forget about Daniel Oates for the time being.