Isabel – Le Velour BDSM
I stood in a spacious room, and through muted music, I heard the soft click of women's heels approaching. When Isabel spoke, I knew she was smiling. A mask over my eyes prevented me from seeing her, but it heightened my senses to her touches and the dripping wax. People have a variety of things on their bucket list.
Mine, for sure,.
Disclaimer: Today’s story isn’t about massage, but about a BDSM lesson, and it’s going to be a bit longer than usual…
There were times when I used to go for massages weekly. Now, I’ve cut it down to about once a month. I know Candy, RH (where I only needed one session), Luxury, and in the beginning, I even wandered into Angels. I’ve tried threesomes, even one wild four-some. Le Velour was missing from my list, as were lessons with a dominatrix. I think my decision to visit the local ladies was finally made after reading a discussion with Jenny here on the website.
For my first booking, I was helped by a very skilled and friendly receptionist. I initially tried to book myself via Reservio, but it doesn’t let you in on the first try. Of course, everything is explained in the FAQ. Did I mention that like many, I don’t read instructions? No? Well, let’s move on.
I said it would be my first lesson, and I was recommended Isabel. Who am I to argue with professionals? On the day, I rang the doorbell according to the instructions I received via SMS at the correct entrance on Jiří z Poděbrad Square. Down the stairs, turn left, and there it is—the door with the doormat. (That part was missing in the message!) A moment later, Lea (probably) opened the door, and before I could make a bad joke about the whip (haha, the more nervous I am, the worse my jokes), Isabel arrived. A cheerful, approximately 160 cm tall whirlwind in a bodysuit led me into a large room full of toys. We sat on the couch and talked about why I was there.
“In my personal and professional life, I constantly make decisions for myself and others. I am tempted to let this opportunity take me for a while,” I said, placing myself among the 80% of respondents. We discussed what I wanted to try and what I didn’t. Any safe words were simplified to a simple “stop.” I mentioned I’m not particularly fond of pain, and Isabel assured me we’re two. I don’t know how she does it, but I noticed I was starting to relax. It felt like Alice peeking behind the mirror, and the Queen of Hearts wouldn’t add my head to her private collection.
Isabel checked if the bathroom was free, and I headed to the shower. Yes, they don’t have a shared shower here. But I wasn’t here for a massage; I was here for the lesson. And I can handle that. When I returned to the room, the show began. Isabel was smiling, but you could tell who was in charge from now on. After a while, I ended up with my hands above my head against the wall. Isabel put a mask on me. She said that eyesight is supposed to improve dramatically.
She tried different levels of touch all over my body, sometimes using a few toys. I could only recognize the strange little circle that looked like a Western spur. Wax play is surprisingly fun—though I definitely wouldn’t want to clean it up afterward. She explained to me to rate the pain from one to ten. It stopped bothering me once I reached a seven in the countdown. She laughed, and I realized that if she wanted, I could probably go up to about 150.
My eyes adjusted to the light, and my fingers tingled slightly as she untied my hands. She checked to make sure everything was alright.
Yup.
We moved to a futon. Isabel adheres to the rule “safety first.” Falling from that ten-centimeter height could cause serious injury. Luckily, she has plenty of ropes at her disposal. At that moment, I thought of Basic Instinct.
I love and simultaneously hate my brain.
Apparently, I smile way too much.
Again, the mask.
And more toys.
As in Pulp Fiction: “Your ass will learn the Middle Ages.”
No, seriously. At this stage, the lesson sort of transitions into a BDSM massage. Isabel checks in several times to ensure everything is okay. Yeah, I’m really enjoying it. When it’s over, she cuddles up beside me. She checks again, and when I glance at the clock, I realize it’s a bit later than expected. But no one is rushing me. I take a cleansing shower, have some coffee, and we sit for a little longer after I get dressed. Of course, Isabel is curious about my feedback.
A few days later, I see her feedback pop up on my computer screen. Did I enjoy it? Definitely. Do I want to do it again next week? Absolutely. Did it change my life? Not really. Do I want to repeat it? For sure. If a good lesson or massage is one that makes you think about what you’ll experience next time and leaves you craving more, then this was one hell of a good session.
The next client was pushed back five minutes. Whether that was the guy who almost tripped over the stone threshold at the entrance—“Sorry, man”—well, not really sorry.
I peeked behind the mirror, and my head stayed attached.
Thanks, Isabel.
P.S. I’d like to comment on the term “non-erotic.” Le Velour doesn’t have an erotic charge; it has an erotic reservoir. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up like the first wave on Omaha Beach. That’s pretty much all I wanted to say about that.
P.P.S. I got a discount for initial booking issues. TLDR: Someone canceled something they shouldn’t have, but the studio handled it excellently. No need to dwell on it further.
