My first visit to Cries and Whispers was on a Friday at noon in September. The dress code had been imposed on me, precise and succinct: delicate high heels, black stockings, a lace bra that revealed and displayed my nipples and breasts, a submissive collar, and a black blindfold. I had carefully and excitedly prepared my outfit and added a thin black leather braid to my waist to make it look "more dressed up." I had tried to negotiate wearing lace panties, at least initially, to get into the mood, but I was put in my place. My genitals had to be visible and available from the moment I arrived. As soon as I crossed the narrow threshold, my husband, D., urged me to get ready. The place was dark and cramped, so we slipped into the restroom. I undressed completely, put on the stockings, shoes, and bra. D. slipped the collar around my neck and attached the leash, then tied the blindfold around my head. I was ready. D. guides me, holding me on a leash, towards the stairs leading to a first room in the basement. The young woman at reception, rather amused by the situation, offers to help me not to trip. I'm very tense, a mixture of fear and excitement; the stairs, the blindfold, the slightly acrid smell of a stone basement, the near-nudity, what awaited me in this unfamiliar club… Despite everything, I still want to play and…