But we’re not going to talk about that.
I’m torn from my thoughts by the sight of a peculiar girl in the crowd. Her plain hair and clothing are in stark contrast to her astounding beauty. Between that and the air of innocence surrounding her, she sticks out like a sore thumb.
Who is she?
I’ve never seen her before and she sure as shit doesn’t look like she belongs here. I stalk her from my perch like a bird looking for their supper. She looks worried and irritated as she furiously searches the area around the bar.
The nipples on her ample tits are barely hidden behind the thin button-up shirt she’s wearing and demure bra, that I’d bet any amount of money she has on.
Is she here with a date? Is she meeting someone? Why does she look like someone just kicked her puppy? She turns toward the bar and leans over it, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
The swell of her ass looks like it's just big enough to fit in the palm of my hand.
What’s most puzzling though, is why I’m thinking about her the way that I am. Why am I so interested in her? I haven’t shown this much interest in any girl since Viv. It’s probably because she’s so out of place here. Someone who isn’t cut out for a place like this is a threat to my business and all of the members. I need to keep a close eye on her. We don’t need any problems, especially during an open house.
She finally gets the bartender’s attention and they exchange a few words. She turns from the bar, looking exasperated, and searches the room once again. As if she can feel me staring at her, she looks up. Her eyes widen in alarm when they lock onto mine.
What’s wrong, little lamb? Can you see the beast inside of me?
We stare at one another for longer than I’d care to admit. What is it about her? I don’t look at females like this anymore. I don’t waste my time on anyone any longer. But this female? The fire in her stare burns bright, but not bright enough to hide the scared little girl that she has locked away within her. Not taking my eyes from her, I begin to walk toward the ladder that will lead me down to the floor of le côté débutant, where she is currently. I break eye contact for a split second as I turn and place my boot on the top rung of the ladder and begin my descent. I shouldn’t have taken my eyes from her because, by the time my feet hit the floor, she’s gone.
“Master Vilé,” one of the members greets me and nods when I pass him by. I nod in return. I think. I meant to, but right now I am on a mission and can’t worry about that.
My eyes scan the room. She wouldn’t be at the bar because she just left that area. I gaze out over the guests on the dance floor. It’s so thick with bodies that I can’t see where some people end and others begin. There’s no way she could've squeezed her way through there so quickly.
Come out, come out wherever you are. I need to find you. I need to know why you’re here.
I scour the outer edge of the room, where all of the play areas are located. I highly doubt I will find her participating in a scene, but could she be a voyeur?
Finally, my eyes land on her at the back of the room, pushing the door to le couloir open.
That’s a big no-no, little lamb. No one is allowed in le couloir on open house nights. I can feel the corner of my mouth turn up in a sneer as I think about everything that I could do to her back there.
Walking briskly, follow her path to the back of the club and open the door leading into le couloir. I expect to see her when I open the door, but no one is there. There are two legs in this hallway and I choose to go left. I stalk down the darkened passage as quietly as I can, so I can hear any noise that she might make if she's come this way. I carefully wiggle the doorknobs on each of the playroom doors as I pass by. They’re all locked, as they should be, so I know she hasn’t run inside to hide.
“Father?” I hear suddenly, echoing from the other end of the hall.
I stop and turn on my heel at the sound of her angelic voice.
Father?
Is she playing some sort of Daddy Dom/little girl game? I pick up my pace so I can catch up to where she is before she can get away again. When I get to the center of the hallway, where the two legs meet, I sense that she’s near. I flatten my body against the wall and wait for her to arrive.
Just as she’s merely steps away, I materialize from the shadowed corner.
She gasps in surprise and tries to hide her fear as she realizes she’s been caught somewhere she shouldn’t be.
“What do you think you’re doing back here?”
“I’m--I’m sorry. I’m looking for my father. When he leaves and doesn’t come back for hours, this is usually where he comes,” she stammers but then she swallows her fear, letting confidence shine through.
“Your Daddy comes to le couloir?” I ask her, knowing that’s not at all what she meant, but I'm aching to see her blush.
“What?” she’s honestly confused, missing the reference. “No, he comes to this disgusting, depraved, worthless pile of stone for desperate sex fiends and alcoholics!” She holds her arms out, regarding the club as she speaks, with bitterness flooding her tone.
“Disgusting. Depraved. Worthless? You talk about my club like you know something about it, little lamb.”
I step forward slowly, and she backs up. I may not hold the same regard for The Tower that I once did, but no one talks about my home like that.
“Your club? So you’re the reason for this abomination?”
I hasten my steps, backing her up into the wall behind her. My hand wraps tightly, but not dangerously so, around her thin neck and I force her to look up into my eyes.
“You think you’re better than all of those people in that room over there?” I cock my head slightly toward the door leading to le côté débutant. “That your morals and values mean more than theirs?”
Anger flashes in my stare, and I feel her shiver beneath my touch.
“Why do you think that? Who told you that you were better than anyone else? Your Daddy?”
Her fear deepens, judging by her widened doe eyes and increased heart rate that I can feel, beating rapidly beneath my palm.
“Who do you think you are? You don’t like it here because you don’t belong here. We don’t want you here. So you’re going to go back to the perfect little life that you fell out of and never set foot in this disgusting, depraved, worthless pile of stone ever again.”
I bring my face dangerously close to hers, forcing her to see the evil within me, not allowing her to look away.
“The club isn’t the abomination, I am. If you ever step foot in here again, you’re going to find out exactly how far an angel can fall.”
I release my grip on her neck before I lose complete control and throw her down into the dungeon. She scurries off through the door to le côté débutant, and into the crowd of members and guests.
I stand there, seething as the door closes, shutting me into the darkness where I prefer to be.
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