The sound of Elena’s pounding heart is so loud in her ears that it nearly masks the sound of footsteps approaching her booth.

The Green Room is perpetually freezing, probably to combat the amount of sweat its members work up within the sprawling, luxuriously decorated space. Even so, it’s clear to anyone who enters that no expense was spared in its construction—the exterior is tasteful, nondescript, but inside is all satiny jewel-toned wallpaper, heated tile floors, lavish light fixtures dimmed low, and supple leather upholstery.

The photos Elena saw on their website don’t do this place justice. Neither do the reviews within the online forums she frequents or the copious number of referrals she’s received, but even naked and shivering, she knows the quality of this place is unmatched. The bench beneath her back is solid while still being comfortable, and the bindings around her ankles are soft even as secure as they are. One tug from where each of her legs is bound high and wide