After a moment her expression turns serious and she says, “Dah.” There’s a shift in tone in her voice, and I know this must be something important.
I swallow down my bite and answer guardedly, “Yes?”
Carla’s fingers play with the edges of her celery stick. “I have a question.”
By now she has my undivided attention, and worry laces through my chest. I hope this isn’t bad news. Or some sort of nasty gossip about me. I don’t think I can handle any more stress.
“Yeah?” I dare ask.
Carla hesitates a moment, as if unsure how she wants to proceed, and then she leans forward and says beneath her breath, “Are you into BDSM?”
I sit back in my seat, stunned. Whoa. What the hell? After a moment, I let out a nervous chuckle. “Where’d that come from?” My cheeks are flaming hot with a bright blush although Carla seems unaffected. She cocks a brow with a small smile, but doesn’t answer right away.
“Carla?”
Hesitating, Carla licks her lips and studies me as if she’s weighing whether she should tell me anything further. “I’m in a club,” she says finally.
“What kind of club?” I ask cautiously.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone,” Carla demands. The lightheartedness I'm used to with her vanishes from the conversation entirely. “Or I can’t tell you the rest.” Her eyes flash with an intensity that is unnerving.
I don’t know what Carla's getting at, but she has me on the edge of my seat. “I swear,” I say. At this point, I’m dying to know what the hell this is all about.
Carla stares at me long and hard as if assessing my honesty before leaning forward slightly and whispering, “I’m in a BDSM club.”
I stare, not comprehending. I know what BDSM is, but I’m just not clicking with what she’s saying. “Do you mean some kind of cult?”
Carla freezes, and then lets out a small laugh. “Heavens no. Nothing like that.” After a moment, the amusement fades from her face. “But it’s not really something we talk about, though. No one is allowed in if they don’t sign a non-disclosure agreement. Absolutely no one.” Her last words are uttered in harsh tones, conveying the need for complete secrecy this mysterious club demands.
Wow. “Why in the world would anyone agree to that?” I ask. My body heats some with the implications of what that could mean.
“Because of the clientele,” Carla explains. “They’re all powerful, rich and sometimes highly visible men. Men from all walks of life. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen, CEOs, celebrities... even congressmen and senators.”
“You’re kidding,” I say, intensely fascinated, my breathing picking up.
Carla shakes her head and replies, “Nope.” She sits back in her seat, taking a drink of her smoothie. “That’s why NDAs are signed.”
“So these men are married?” I ask after a moment of digesting this information. What she’s saying is un-fucking-real, but I believe her. She’s too serious to be lying, and now I’m just hungry for all the details.
Carla purses her lips thoughtfully. “I suspect some might be, but there is no way of knowing for sure.” She puts the cap back on her smoothie and leans forward. “The club thrives on a secretive atmosphere, and though some of the Subs know the Doms’ identities, they’re forbidden,” her hands fly outward, increasing the intensity of her words, “to reveal or share any knowledge of them outside the club.” Her brows pinch together slightly as she continues, “I think a lot of men are just young, eligible bachelors that are looking for a place to sate their sexual appetites, so most Subs get to play with a free conscience.”
Subs and Doms are all familiar terms to me… I mean, everyone’s read Fifty Shades, haven’t they?
This is all so intriguing, and I find myself leaning in and lowering my voice. “So what happens if a Sub exposes a Dom outside of the club, or vice versa?” I have to ask.
Anger flashes in Carla’s eyes. “Not only are they subject to legal action, but they get kicked out and banned for life.” She emphasizes the next words, “But these are people you don’t want to cross.” Her face is deadly serious as she warns, “This club is fun and exciting and intoxicating, but you don’t want to be enemies with these people. I mean it, Dah.” The mood lightens up some as she readjusts in her seat and says, “So just keep it between us.”
I let her words settle as I look out of the window. It’s a bit frightening, but thrilling at the same time. I can see why such a rule is in place. The club thrives on secrecy, so divulging identities would be a big no-no if it wanted to stay in business. Also, keeping things confidential is probably a huge draw for the members. I’m sure it's a lot more fun and thrilling for both sides to know they’re engaging in something so depraved that they have to hide it. The risk of getting caught only increases the thrill. The very thought sends a shiver of want down my spine.
My eyes are drawn to Carla as she takes another sip of her smoothie, her eyes fixed on me. “So why are you telling me this again?”
Carla’s next words nearly knock me off my seat. “Because I want you to come and check it out.”
I laugh with astonishment. “What?”
“My boyfriend, you know, Bruce? We’re both members. It’s how we met, actually.”
My jaw literally drops. That is a total bombshell I wasn’t expecting. “No way!” A blush grows on Carla’s face. So she’s a Submissive! I never would have thought that about her. Well, I would guess she’s the Sub in their relationship… I have to stop my line of thinking right now before I get too carried away.
Carla nods. “He bought me in an auction.”
What in the world? “An auction?” I breathe in wonder. Carla’s boyfriend bought her? My eyes widen, and I’m not sure how to respond. What in the actual fuck?
“It’s nothing like that,” Carla says defensively. “Auctions are something by which Subs and Doms can take their experience to the next level, and these men pay dearly for the privilege to do so. As dark as it sounds, it’s benign really if you look at it from the Sub’s perspective.” Her voice is much softer now, and I can tell she’s practically pleading with me to understand. And I’m trying. I really am. “The Dom pays high dollar for a sex slave for a month, and the Sub gets to live out her fantasy of being dominated. Sometimes, they might even forge a relationship outside of the club’s perimeters if they decide they like each other enough, like what happened with me and Bruce.” She smiles sweetly and bites her lip for a moment before shrugging. “So you see, no harm, no foul. Everything is clean, consensual, and terms and conditions are outlined in the contracts. No one has to agree to accept any terms that they don’t like. Rules must be followed, or else.”
“That sounds scary as fuck,” I blurt out. “To just get sold to someone.”
Carla's shaking her head before I've even finished my thought. “There's so much paperwork, and all of your desires and fetishes are clearly marked. Everything is consensual, and the club is all about making sure everyone is safe. Seriously. It's all about living out your fantasies.”