You’ve been invited to Club X.
Madam Lynn
Club X. The words run over and over in my mind. I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is. It sounds like some sort of secret underground club, yet I can’t make any sense of it. Why send me an invitation without any information about what I would be joining? And who the hell is Madam Lynn? It’s just strange. I check the box again, and there’s Kiersten’s name. I can’t get the scrunched expression off my face.
I turn the invitation over in my hand, examining it several times, looking for any clues of what this club is about. There aren't any.
Shrugging off my coat, I walk over to my desk in the corner of my living room, thrumming with excitement, sit down and open my laptop. When the screen lights up, I quickly type in my password and bring up the web browser. I type in Club X in the search bar and then hit enter. Kiersten won’t be on till tonight. And I’m too impatient to wait to ask her.
My heart drops in my chest at the results that pop up. Nothing with “Club X” per se. But a bunch of porn websites and pornographic pictures are the first things listed. Some information about ecstasy. Certainly not what I expected. I click through a couple of them, but the sites are all set up to get you to put in your credit card. Screw that. I click through a bunch more websites, trying to find any information that links to the invitation, but I come up short. There’s absolutely nothing here. After clicking through a couple more, I shut down the browser, a feeling of disappointment running through me.
I’m about to close down my laptop when an email notification pops up in the lower right corner of my screen. The title of the subject makes my heart jump in my chest, and I almost click on it immediately.
Your invitation awaits
I sit there for a moment before clicking, my heart pounding in my chest as my skin pricks from a sudden chill. How eerie.
From: Madam Lynn
To: Katia Herrington
Katia, I’ve been notified that you’ve received my invitation, and I’m attaching information for your consideration before we move forward. I feel it’s in your best interest as well as Club X’s for you to consider enrollment. I personally invite you to check us out. I know you’ll enjoy it. A bracelet is included in the package. Please bring it with you. I’ll see you soon.
Yours truly,
Madam Lynn
My heart is nearly beating out of my chest as I quickly download the forms, open them and begin reading. My eyes go wide as I skim through pages and pages of what essentially amounts to a non-disclosure agreement. If I want to be a part of the club, I have to sign it and adhere to the rules listed. There are four other downloads, one with a list of themed nights. Another with rules for the club. And there are a lot of them.
Another download with testimonies.
And the last one, pictures of a gorgeous building. It looks almost like a mansion. But the inside is what steals my breath away.
I sit there for I don’t know how long, greedily devouring every word that scrolls across the page. It takes a while, but when I finally reach the end, my mind is reeling from the wealth of information. A lot of what I read was legal jargon, but there are three words that stick out in my mind.
Auction.
Submissive.
Master.
Club X is an exclusive BDSM club.
I suck in a heavy breath as I stare at the screen, excitement coursing through my limbs, but at the same time feeling slightly sick to my stomach. Am I really going to do this? It could be a way to confront that part of me that isn’t fully healed, the part of me that’s still dark and twisted.
I mentioned it to Kiersten, but I didn’t expect this.
I have fantasies. I have cravings. I don’t want normal. I tried to have a sexual relationship with someone who doesn’t want complete control. But I want to give someone my everything. I want the fantasy that I found sanctuary in. I survived because of it. It’s so deeply ingrained in me, and I don’t want it to leave.
I don’t know if I was always like this. But there’s a power in submitting wholly to someone. To giving them everything and trusting them. I want to do it again.
It feels wrong. But I know deep down that it’s what I want. It’s what I’m missing.
I know people live with the illusion I created for myself. It’s their life. I want that. I want to trust someone to take me as their Slave, and cherish me like I made myself believe my Master did.
I try to push this feeling and dark thoughts away, but they remain.
I pick up the letter again, letting the tips of my fingers trail over the engraved “X.” I want it, but I’m terrified to let go. In a place like this though… Maybe this is exactly what I need.
Chapter 5
Isaac
I’m two whiskeys in, and I can’t help myself.
I’ve read her files over and over. My poor Katia. Kidnapped at sixteen years old while walking home from school. It was a nice neighborhood, low crime. No reason to worry. But one day she just vanished. Marcio Matias kidnapped her and three other women that day. He was well known in the sex slave traffic industry, and is currently incarcerated and on death row. Which only makes me angrier that I can’t get my hands on him myself.
Katia is only one of hundreds of women who Marcio kidnapped over a decade.
She was a virgin, and traded to a drug lord and head of a cartel in Colombia, Carver Dario. He went by Master C, and had many slaves and shared them freely. From what I can tell, Katia was no exception and her police reports go into detail about what a man named Javier Pinzan, second-in-command of the cartel did to her. Her life was hell. She was surrounded by abusive men who took pleasure from her pain. Her arm and jaw were both broken while she was held prisoner.
Her arm more than once.
In her psych transcripts I read about how she murdered him. How she broke a liquor bottle and stabbed Dario repeatedly, running away in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a large man’s dress shirt. She was filthy when they found her in a village on the outskirts of the tourist areas. She was bruised and scarred, and almost died of malnutrition and infections.
A group of tourists just happened to be in the area. Without them, I’m not certain what would have happened to her. My heart clenches in my chest, and I take another swig of the whiskey.
She saved herself.
It’s been four years since she’s been home. She spent a good amount of time in protective custody, adjusting to life again. She was in and out of therapy for the first few months until she started seeing a young woman named Meredith Beck. She stayed with her for two years, attending regular sessions that eventually dwindled. She hasn’t been to her in over eight months and the last time she went, Dr. Beck prescribed Katia sleeping aids, a prescription that Katia never filled.
I’ve hacked into the support group that I know Katia is an active member in. Extremely active. She comes on daily, and is one of only a handful of users in here. This seems to be the only social interaction she has.
At first it was just to find out more about how she's healing. Just to read her messages and figure out if she still has problems sleeping. I’ve learned a lot about my Katia since logging in. She’s a kind girl with a beautiful heart. She wants to be happy.