V E R A
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The first section of the floor was everything dedicated to paintings, statues, and sculptures, as well as erotic films being projected onto one of the walls. Cordelia walked ahead of me, towards two big french doors, and pulled both of them open.
The second section was a much more private setting. The main event. Anything that was wood, was a dark walnut, similar to Mr. Dupont's office. The walls were painted an opaque cherry color as well as all of the furniture details following suit with even darker shades of red. The room smelt reminiscent of Cordelia's scent—rose, leather, musk, with a trace of mint. A clean essence. Rich sex. There were a bunch of different furnishings and objects scattered throughout the room.
Between racks full of restraints, canes, whips, and paddles and the four-poster California king bed that sat in the corner, with more restraints placed at the top—the entire room was filled with everything having to do with the BDSM lifestyle.
Despite the room being filled with intimidating contraptions, there was a very intimate feeling that blanketed the space. Maybe it was the materials of velvet and silk that dressed up the furniture or possibly the dim lighting. Whatever it was, the area gave off a specific kind of warmth that I was fond of.
"Oh my..." I breathed, trying to collect my thoughts and form a proper sentence.
"I know." Cordelia replied, a smile lighting up her face. "From the way you were enamored with the works from the photographie érotique section, I'm going to assume you know a bit about BDSM, no?"
"I-I know of it but I'm not entirely sure what the lifestyle entails, aside from some knowledge I have on the relationship between a dominant and submissive." I confirmed. While I was intimidated by everything in front of me, my curiosity overpowered that feeling.
"Understood. Well, as one of your jobs here is being an exhibit designer, meaning you're in charge of displaying everything in a way that appeals to the audience—you will become well acquainted with the many pieces that make up this museum, these sections included." She explained, walking towards the middle of the room.
"So tell me, what do you think?" She asked, gesturing to everything around her.
"This isn't an official tour either, Miss Adams. We have a code of secrecy in this museum, meaning that whatever is said or experienced here, stays within these walls. Be honest with how you're feeling, an artist's expression is based on candor." She reassured, allowing me to feel comfortable.
I walked towards a wooden rack that had a bunch of objects made out of different materials like leather and rope, to name a few, hanging off of it.
"Am I allowed to touch them?" I asked, looking towards Cordelia. She nodded.
"Don't worry, everything is sterilized. We get a new shipment of almost every tangible thing in this room once a month, you know, as this is an interactive exhibit. Although, not a lot of people find their way into this room." She explained, walking towards me.
As my hand came into contact with the cold material of one of the leather objects, I took it off the rack to further examine.
"These are floggers. They're used during something called impact play where the dominant whips their submissive with the lashes of this." She chimed, running her fingers through the lashes of the flogger made out of rope.
Hanging the leather item back onto the rack, I walked towards the back right corner of the room where there was a big wall restraint, with a bunch of red vinyl-covered cushions placed in the shape of an X. I stood on my tippy toes to try and feel for the leather cuffs at the top.
"This built-in wall is for bondage. The submissive would place their body in the shape of an X, against this and would be placed into these restraints while their dominant did all kinds of things that they wanted to." Cordelia stated, as she pressed her back against the wall, pretending to put herself in the position of a submissive.
I continued to walk around, not knowing what words to say yet. Taking everything in, I sat down on one of the velvet couches, placed next to an intricately designed table with more restraints on it that I could only assume wasn't meant for placing drinks down on.
It wasn't that I was scared of everything I was looking at—I was well aware that BDSM was one of the many parts that surrounded sex and also made quite a huge impact on erotic art as well. The only feeling that came to me was a sense of attraction. Knowing that there were other people that came here and enjoyed all of the things that filled this room brought me a weird sense of belonging.
In all honesty, I was drawn to all of the different thresholds I could explore. Figuring out the definition of pain and pleasure and how the two coincide. Allowing someone to use my body and help me learn about the things that I liked. Someone to pay attention to every part of me and vice versa.
My sex life was nothing but full of shortcomings. Literally. For once, I wanted to experience absolute passion and desire and everything that came with it. Lust. Carnality. Aggression. I wanted to experience all of these things with someone who could take control of me.
Like a submissive and their dominant.
Whether it be in movies, television shows, or the media—whatever the case, sex is normally seen as a missionary act between one man and one woman and in most cases, the pleasure only falls in the lap of the man.
This museum easily strayed away from those norms and broke down those boundaries. Beyond the art-filled rooms, they created a safe space here that was dedicated purely to learning and acknowledging your sensual needs. Something that I had been waiting years to find.
"Again, you're free to talk about whatever you want to. Consider me your first friend here, Miss Adams. What you say, stays in this room." Cordelia comforted, sitting down next to me.
"I like the art." I said, letting out a laugh.
"Why, thank you. I actually picked out a bunch of the pieces in here." She replied, laughing along with me.
"I don't want to seem unprofessional but I feel like there's no way to explain how I'm feeling in a way that doesn't cross boundaries." I exclaimed, trying to put together what I was going to say next.
"Like I said, I'm your friend now. This is all off the record, Miss Adams." She responded.
"Vera—you can call me Vera."
"Okay, Vera. Now, tell me. Is this what you had expected when you were applying to work here?" She asked.
"Well, I was fully aware of the nature of the museum but I don't think I realized what exactly I was going to be surrounded by. An interactive exhibit, reminiscent of a sex club, definitely wasn't what I had in mind when thinking of the different sections that made up this place," I explained as my eyes focused on one of the marble sculptures near the french doors. Antonio Canova's Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss—a sculpture that represented love and desire conquering all.
"I will be honest with you though, I'd like to know more about it. When I first walked into this room, of course I was a bit overwhelmed but as I looked around, it suddenly felt like a breath of fresh air. Comfort." I continued.
"That's all he's ever wanted this museum, this room, to embody. A sense of peace that derives from everything pain and pleasure. He calls this place The Valley—a room dedicated to getting acquainted with the many curves and parts that make up one's body. A studio purely built for exploring your limits." Cordelia answered, giving me a reassuring smile.
"He?"
"Damien, Mr. Dupont. Not only did he create the vision behind this museum but this room as well. Like I said, he's a methodical man. A man who craves discipline in every aspect of his life."
❦
As Cordelia finished showing me around the rest of the museum, she brought me to my new office and allowed me to get comfortable with my surroundings for the remainder of the day. I spent the next hour moving the furniture around as well as placing my desk in the center back of the room—a layout similar to Mr. Dupont's office.
I wondered if he had also designed my office. The ambience in here was much different than how his office had felt. Everything was brighter; simple looking. His had felt somewhat cozy and intimate while mine felt cold and detached. I made it a plan to pick up some small decor and other office things to make it look more appealing before I went home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I made this place my own.
I also couldn't help but think about what Cordelia had said to me about Mr. Dupont. A man who craves discipline in every aspect of his life. Her words replaying in my head, a part of me wanted to figure out what that meant. A man obsessed with control in a work setting is nothing new, but needing it at all times was a different story and feeling like there was a reason behind that, piqued my interest.
My mind then wandered to a place it shouldn't have. Curious as to why he had created a whole room dedicated to that specific art form. Curious if he had brought any women there and used the things in that space on them. Wondering what it'd be like if I was one of those women. I mentally pinched myself. Vera, you're being incredibly unprofessional. Shaking the thought from my head, I continued to organize.
By the time I was finished moving things around, the sun had already set and it was time for me to head out as Cordelia had also told me she was leaving almost an hour ago.
Walking out of my office and locking the door behind me, I headed towards the main staircase but before I walked down, I noticed a bit of light coming from down the hallway across from where I was standing—Mr. Dupont's office.
Before Cordelia left, she told me that normally everyone was out the door by 6pm but almost an hour had passed and Mr. Dupont was still here.
I debated walking to his office and saying goodbye but decided against it as I didn't want to interrupt him. He seemed to be a rather busy man and the last thing I wanted was to get in his way.
As I reached the bottom of the staircase, I noticed a man at the front entrance, locking up.
"Oh wait! Don't forget about me!" I shouted, jogging towards the door.
"Mes excuses, Damien est normalement la seule personne encore présente à cette heure." The man started to speak, looking up. "Je m'appelle Nicolas Meunier. Vous devez être nouveau." [my apologies, damien is normally the only person still around at this hour / i'm nicolas meunier, you must be new.]
"I'm so sorry, I don't—" I tried telling him that I didn't speak French but he caught on before I could explain.
"Ah, forgive me. You must be the American. Vera Adams? Damien's new assistant?" He questioned and I nodded. "I was just saying that Damien is normally the only person that stays late, I was locking up for him."
Getting a full view of the man—he was tall, dressed in a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. Another quite attractive, put-together man stood in front of me. His facial features being sharp, the only differences between him and Mr. Dupont was that this man's hair was a light shade of brown as well as his eyes nearing a more chocolate color.
"Not a problem, uh, Mr. Meunier? Did I catch that right?" I asked to which he confirmed with a nod. "Today was kind of my first day and I was just getting situated with my new office, thus the reason for staying late. I apologize for the inconvenience."
"It's completely fine, Miss Adams. So, I assume you've gotten the chance to meet the lovely Damien Dupont?" He asked, unlocking the door and opening it for me.
"Yes I have." I replied, hesitant to say anything more.
"I can sense that you're a little skeptical of him," He commented. "He's just a bit—"
"Cold? Distant? Inhospitable?" I inquired, filling in his words for him.
"You've got quite the mouth on you, Miss Adams. However, I do see how you might feel that way. Pragmatic is what I would describe him as. Damien has a way of coming across as a big bully at first but you're here for the next nine months. Let him grow on you." Mr. Meunier chimed, walking with me down the steps of the museum.
"I'll take your word for it. If you don't mind me asking, what do you do here?" I asked as we reached the bottom.
"I work right alongside Damien. I'm the museum's registrar. Everything Damien brings into this museum, I make sure is accounted for," He explained. Did he know about The Valley? "He also happens to be my best friend on the weekends." He laughed, waving down a cab for me.
"You two are friends?" I asked, suddenly interested in learning about the two's relationship. I didn't peg Mr. Dupont for the friendly type.
"Yes but that is a conversation for another time, Miss Adams. You should get going and rest up before your first real day of work with Damien—you're going to need it. Au revoir." He said, opening the backdoor of the cab for me and gesturing me inside. [goodbye]
"It was nice meeting you." I let out.
"The pleasure's all mine." He replied before shutting the door. I waved goodbye as the cab drove away from the building.
❦
After spending an hour at a mini boutique, picking out a few things that I needed for my office, I was finally back in my little chateau. As I took off my clothes, I turned on the water expecting to take yet another cold shower but to my surprise, steam had quickly filled the bathroom. Someone must've complained about the lack of heat in this building. Thank you whoever you are. Taking advantage of the sudden warm water, I set up a bath for myself.
It had been quite an eventful day for me. Despite it being my first time at the museum, I was already made aware of everything within those walls and the specifics of my job. A million things were going through my head—I was having thoughts of regret, wondering if I made a mistake applying there.
Though I knew better than to give into those thoughts, I still had my doubts. The last thing I wanted was to set myself up for failure as there were already people around me that wanted me to do exactly that. Fail.
But I knew that if I had decided to entertain those thoughts, I might as well just pack up and go home and I wasn't going to give up that easily.
Getting ready for bed, I turned off the bathroom lights, causing the streetlights to be the only thing that dimly lit up my tiny home. As I got under the covers, I couldn't help but think about what Mr. Meunier had said to me.
Rest up, you're going to need it.
Closing my eyes and drifting off to the white noises of Paris, I did exactly what Mr. Meunier had told me to do as I was fully determined to take on whatever Damien Dupont threw my way.