Are you coming tonight?
I read her text message and debate on my answer.
I have sinful fantasies, some a product of the way I was raised, but others I’ve grown to desire on my own accord. I’ve yet to give in to the impulse driving me to keep going to Club X. It’s alluring and intoxicating in it’s nature. The atmosphere a mix of sex and power, so intense, it alone is a drug.
Just last week I bid on a slave at her auction in Club X. I’m not a fan of the term, I prefer pet, but neither really matters.
I’ve never paid for sex before. It’s not about the money at the auctions, it’s about the contract. About getting exactly what I want and ensuring the lines are drawn and everything written in black and white. Everything consensual. … even if it’s nature is not.
That bid wasn’t a bid for pleasure. Although she made me curious, I didn’t want her. Her Master called her Katia, his kitten.
I thought Isaac was humiliating her, making her go onto a stage knowing no one else would bid on her. Making her feel undesired. I know the man and I know what he’s capable of.
I was pissed. How could he treat her like that? She was trembling on the stage, her apprehension and fear apparent. I wanted to make him pay for what he was doing. And steal his kitten, set her free even.
But I was wrong.
I don’t understand them, the members of the club and the elite circles who have grown comfortable there. This lifestyle is new to me.
But control isn’t. Sex isn’t.
Power is in my blood.
My phone pings again. I don’t want to read it. She always convinces me to go. Maybe it’s because I feel for her and for what she’s going through, but I’m not interested in playing games and trying to fit in where I don’t belong.
I toss the journal and pen onto the end table and rise from my seat, feeling my muscles groan with a pain that I find pleasurable. I take a peek at my phone in my hand when the reminder ding goes off.
Kiersten text reads:
She’s going to be there.
I stare at it, thinking about the one thing that’s interested me in the last three years of living in this void. I ran into her when I left the auction. Literally. I ran straight into her small, delicate frame and nearly knocked her over. I wasn’t paying attention. It was my fault entirely.
But she took the blame.
Kneeling, improperly, and apologizing in a hushed voice.
She was perfectly imperfect. In need of a Master. But not accepting of one. She’s still learning. Kiersten caught on to my interest when I started coming to the club more often.
I’ve been watching her. I needed to observe her.
She has desires I’m not sure I can fill. The way she craves pain is something that feeds a monster lurking inside of me. A depraved beast I’ve tried to keep chained.
I should stay far away from her. But she piques my curiosity and she’s made me truly desire her. Or at least I crave hearing those soft moans and forcing them from her lips myself.
I’ve watched her this past month. I’m not sure she’s noticed. No one pays her much attention since she’s still finding her limits. She’s not eager for a partner either. She sticks with the trainers and stays in the shadows and corners, keeping out of sight.
I can’t deny that she tempts me to possess her, to teach her proper techniques. I tap my fingers on the wooden end table rhythmically. I consider going tonight.
I picture the curve of her ass as she practices her poses, the way her lips part with lust when she touches herself discreetly. She may think no one’s noticed her, but I have. And I want her.
I text Kiersten back, I’ll be there.
Chapter 3
Lilly
I walk up to the doors of Club-X, the huge mansion-like structure looming in the background, it’s red ambient lighting illuminating the front of the building and casting a glow on its esteemed guests that are waiting to be admitted. A cool breeze drafting through the area. My skin pricks as the air softly caresses my flesh, crackling with electricity, and the dark-suited bodyguard at the door recognizes me.
His eyes trail the skimpy outfit that I’m wearing, the red silk short night gown that I changed into before getting out of my Honda. I feel almost naked under his gaze, but at the same time sexy, he makes me feel wanted. Although the attraction is firmly one-sided.
I should be used to this now, but I still get nervous with excitement. I know that in a few moments, men far more powerful than him will be looking at me and it makes me feel anxious. Unconsciously, I trail my finger along my bracelet. It’s still rubber, meaning I’m still just learning, and I haven’t chosen a membership bracelet that will indicate what I want in a partner, dominant or Master, or someone who enjoys the more painful side of BDSM. I’m afraid to admit that I’m a virgin, there’s a bracelet for that. I would rather have a submissive or slave bracelet, although I’m not sure which one yet. The lines are blurred for me still. And I’m not sure how much control I’m really willing to give up. The fantasy of being completely at someone else’s mercy makes me weak with desire. But the reality has an entirely different effect.
I think the aspect of pleasure and pain is what intrigues me most. I haven’t felt the sting of a whip yet. But I really want to. I crave it like a sweet-toothed freak feigning their next Twinkie. I just haven’t asked for it. It’s as easy as letting a trainer know that I’m ready. But I haven’t taken the plunge.
Deep down, I know that actually committing to it is going to take a lot. And right now, I’m just observing. It’s all just research for my book. Or so I tell myself.
I’m admitted through the doors by the dark-gazed bodyguard and as I step into the club I have to suck in a breath. I’ve been here a lot, at least half a dozen times, but I’m floored every single time I walk in. Club X is beyond beautiful with thick lush carpet, extravagant furniture, gorgeous ambient lighting and soft, tantalizing music that makes my blood heat.
But the thing that gets me the most is the very air that surrounds the people.
The men who walk the floors of the club radiate power and wealth beyond imagine and the women who follow them are too beautiful for words. I watch as a masked man pulls his timid partner along by a gleaming silver chain, his eyes filled with determination and swirling with lust. I keep my gaze safely away, knowing that it’s not my place to look at a master or dominant directly in his eyes unless I want to draw his ire. I’m supposed to be submissive and acting anything but will get me in trouble. Even if I’m only here to watch. I can’t ruin the fantasy that Club X provides so perfectly.
I shiver as the atmosphere of the club seems to wrap around my body, my nipples pebbling. I love this place. It’s even better than reading my books, and that says a lot.
My lungs fill with a deep, steadying breath, trying to get control over my emotions. It’s almost as if I’ve taking a hit and a powerful drug and I’m getting high. That’s what this place does to you. It gets you high on lust, power... sex.
I lean against the bar just past the foyer and breathe in deeply, cooling my heated blood.
I know I want to go to the dungeon, but first, I think I need a drink. It is dark down there and I’m not sure I can handle it without at first numbing a part of myself. I need to free my inhibitions.