by Keta Kendric
Regina leaned in. “I think I’m starting to understand what you meant.”
With my palm planted in her back, I led her closer to a cozy corner away from the main flow of traffic. I wanted to introduce her to a part of my world, but there was only so much I’d take before I snapped. I knew that Regina would have eyes on her because I had good taste, but these assholes were verging along the lines of disrespect.
“Have a seat here,” I directed when we reached the couch. I sat and placed my hand around her back to lure her closer, enjoying the feel of her warm skin under my fingers. The way my fingers sank into her soft flesh, the way her body responded to my every stroke, I could play with her all night and not get tired.
I waved one of the waitresses over and waited for her to lean down to take my order.
As I gave the waitress our order, I noticed her eyes being lured in Regina’s direction. I knew Cynthia. She played her part inside this club, but she liked pussy as much as I did. She inclined her head and walked away after a peek at Regina’s legs.
Regina leaned closer. “That guy mentioned a trade. Please tell me that trading is not something you’d consider for me.”
“Fuck no!” came my answer.
“You sound sure.”
“Regina, these motherfuckers would trade their left nut to get a whiff of your pussy, and you think I’d let that go?”
Her fingers dug into my forearm, but not because of my comment. A set of probing eyes settled on her with enough lust to stop whatever she’d been about to say. These motherfuckers were being disrespectful because some didn’t know who I was.
“I feel like I’m naked. Is everyone staring at me because I’m with you?”
“I needed to show you better than I could tell you,” I expressed. “You are one of the sexiest women in this place, and these people are seeing what I see when I look at you.”
She kept her head low as she glanced around the room. Some failed to hide the lust I could almost cut with a knife when they eyed Regina.
“Mr. Knox, may I?” a voice sounded. The dorky voice came from Rex Jamison who stood a safe distance away. His sub stood next to him, snatching glances at Regina. Rex’s distant stance and humble request was how you were supposed to approach someone sitting with a marked sub.
“Yes, have a seat,” I invited.
Rex may have been dorky, but he’d managed to take three subs from other Doms.
“I just wanted to say a quick hello.” His sub lowered her head, Regina’s heels catching her attention. My arm rested snug around Regina’s waist. Rex didn’t let his gaze linger too long, I was sure out of respect.
“Mr. Knox, there are a few prospective members that would like to join. They are…rare, so would you like to vet them, or should I?”
Rare meant that they were big-named officials, like a senator or a governor who was interested in becoming a member of the club.
“You can do the honors, Rex. I’m working on something important right now,” I stated, fighting to keep my gaze from landing on Regina.
“Okay. I’ll see you later, Mr. Knox. Enjoy your evening.”
“You as well, Rex.”
“Is this your club?” Regina questioned when Rex was out of earshot. She’d picked up enough clues to come to the correct conclusion.
“Yes, this is one of three others like it.”
Her face filled with questions, so I decided to alleviate her misery.
“I was introduced to this life at twenty, while I was in the military. I fell head first into it. This was the first club I opened four years ago. The billionaire prick you met earlier and Rex, along with two others, put up most of the money, but I’d created the business plan and wouldn’t let them buy my ideas even though they offered me an insane amount of money. It was a good thing I didn’t. These rich fucks are kinky in ways you wouldn’t believe, and clubs like this are the only places they can let their inner freaks loose.”
“So, everyone in here is rich? How do you target them?”
“I don’t. They get referred by their rich buddies. And we verify everything. If they don’t have at least a million in the bank, this is one club they are not getting into.”
Regina’s mouth dropped open. “So, this is a member’s only club?”
“Yes, and the membership fees alone can put a kid through college.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. The rich are willing to pay a hefty sum to keep their kinky secrets a secret. Everyone in here, except for you, has signed a nondisclosure agreement. If they go blabbing who they saw or what they witnessed in one of my clubs, they’ll get the shit sued out of them.”
Her brows knitted before she glanced around taking in the scene more thoroughly. I stood.
“Let me show you around before someone else stalks us to get a closer look at you.”
She shook her head, still hanging on to denial about her beauty and appeal. I placed my hand on her back, walking her through the crowd that couldn’t help their gawking.
Regina discreetly glanced around, still adhering to the rule I’d given her about making eye contact. As we strolled to the other side of the room, a fucking circus stopped us and distracted Regina to the point that she couldn’t help staring.
A Dom strolled across our path with two subs crawling after him. He led them along by the long diamond leashes clutched in his fists. Each woman wore black see-through catsuits, their black tails wagging as they crawled. Black ears atop their heads bobbed as they trotted after the rich asshole. His name escaped me, but he was known for putting on a show. He got off on humiliating his subs. Even after all this time, there were still parts of this life I’d yet to understand and had no desire to.
We’d been distracted by the Dom walking his cats, but we were the ones being watched.
Regina balancing on those heels had my lust stirring. Unfortunately, my lust had to take a backseat to what I aimed to get her to realize. I stood before her so that she’d see my facial expression and not miss my words or their meaning.
“Regina, I’ve told you that I love your body, but I knew you’d need more outside influence before you believed me.”
“I believe you,” she affirmed, still not sounding confident enough. I needed her confidence up so she’d let that freak in her come out to play.
“Regina, take a glance around. Eyes are bugging, tongues are wagging, and lips are being licked as I stand here talking to you. The last fucking thing I want to see is another man’s erection, but dicks are hard all around this place because of you.”
Her gaze left mine as her head turned to the crowd. Her fingers sat against her lips as she peered at the people eye-stalking her. The heavy cloud of lust in the club was like a weight resting on my shoulders. I needed Regina to get the gist of what I was attempting to make her understand. That way, she’d know what the hell she’d been putting me through since day one.
“Gina,” I called with firm intensity, grabbing her attention. “I know I didn’t just see you make eye contact with another Dom, did I?”
“No, Sir,” she answered dropping her head and folding her hands in front of her body. I found it difficult that this woman had no idea, not one clue as to how mind-blowingly sexy she was. I’d double marked Regina, the first sub I’d marked twice because I didn’t want anyone else’s hands on her.
“I caught that shit,” I warned her, ensuring my voice held a certain level of intensity. “You may as well add it to the stack of punishments you have coming to you.”
Regina had no idea. I didn’t play fair. I would have come up with any lame ass excuse to punish her sexy ass. I knew she’d be curious before I’d brought her in. Knew she’d be tempted to sneak peeks at the rich clowns in this place, some parading women around on leashes like show-ponies.
With two fingers under Regina’s chin, I lifted so that her gaze met mine. “You’re the only one of my subs that knows what it’s like to kill a man.” I let the statement hang in the air for a moment,
knowing she’d been forced to kill during the time she’d been around her family.
After her face was filled with questioning confusion, I continued. “But, you have a weapon you didn’t know you possessed. You can not only kill a man with your hands, you can slay every last one of these rich schmucks with your body. You’re a vixen. So fucking sexually alluring you’re almost irresistible. Dangerous, deadly, sweet, prim and proper, you are definitely my vixen. Pet names like Kitten, Princess, and Baby girl are too immature sub names for you. I want you with a strong, grown-woman name. You’re going to be my Gina,” I informed as her gaze ignited with curiosity at my words.
“Gina is the bold bad-ass that you hide under a veil of innocence—the freak that lurks behind your eyes—taunting me. When I call you Gina, I want sexy and dangerous, not sweet and innocent. I want the bad motherfucker that threw a man into a pit of fire and watched his ass burn. I want the one that tempted her fate, not once or twice but three times, rebelling against a fucking cartel. I’ll give you the Re back after we’re done playing grown-up games. You understand what I’m saying—Gina?”
She nodded and stood unblinking, allowing my words to sink in.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered. A touch of that rebellious bad bitch peeked out when she lifted her head. My dick jumped, recognizing her freak.
“Good. Now, let me give you the grand tour before I do some shit to you that I can’t take back.”
It took every motivational speech I’d listened to, every nerve, every muscle, and every strength I could call upon, to stop myself from fucking her right there in the club in front of everyone.
She’d caused me to lose focus multiple times, something I prided myself on maintaining. If she were any other sub, as worked up as she had me, I would have fucked her for all to see without question.
15
Regina
This club was a wondrous adventure, unlike anything I’d ever seen. My feisty friends in college had introduced me to some clubs: grunge, techno, gay, and bisexual, but nothing like this.
The dimness inside this building didn’t hide the fine art on the walls, or the winding array of tanks lit in hues of blues and purple that housed sharks and a variety of marine life I couldn’t name. The high ceiling wavered against my sight, and the dim lighting kept me from making out its design.
There were cages at varied stages inside the open-floor plan. One cage hung dangling from the ceiling, swinging with slow ease as the scantily clad woman inside motioned her body to keep it moving. A few other cages were strategically placed throughout the expansive club, the sexy women inside enticing any eyes willing to take a look.
As far as my eye could see was a sea of members, Doms with their subs and what I assumed were female Doms with theirs. The scene sparked with dominating elegance. It wasn’t trashy. It was laced with an assured level of kinky sophistication.
Ansel was introducing me to a part of his world that I’d grossly misjudged. I’d entered my first BDSM club. Surprisingly, I was impressed by the scenery and intrigued about the lifestyle as a whole.
After Ansel described the way he and others viewed me, it boosted my self-confidence by leaps and bounds. The fact that he saw me as a sexy vixen blew my mind. All I’d ever believed before was that I was inadequate when it came to men, weak when it came to protecting myself, and helpless when it came to escaping my family.
I’d never been anything but a victim, and if August Knox hadn’t crossed my path when he did, I doubt I would have rebuilt the strength I’d needed to run away from my family again. Now, being with Ansel was teaching me more about my personal self than I could fathom.
Ansel’s grip tightened around my hand as we rounded a bend that took us into a short entryway that led to a set of thick steel doors. Six digits were keyed into a lighted keypad before he waved his palm across a beaming green light.
The door popped open, and he nudged me into a hall that led to a gold and black marble staircase so elegantly crafted, you couldn’t help but marvel at it.
Ansel stepped while I wobbled down the stairs before my view became filled with a whole new world to explore. The upstairs area was alive with sexual chemistry and music punctuated the background. This area breathed with the intensity of desires dense enough to swim through.
“Upstairs you were on Cloud Nine. This area of the basement is called The Vault,” Ansel stated, answering questions he knew I had.
We approached and sat on a caramel leather couch. At first glance, its color floated against the darkness before blending into it. My neck swiveled, taking in the spirited activities that surrounded me. I observed as Ansel chatted with who I assumed was another wealthy member of the club. The man spoke with a heavy British accent, and although he appeared no older than Ansel, he carried an air of elegance and class that seemed to surpass his age.
The man sat on the plush couch adjacent to the one we sat on while his sub kneeled at his feet with her head on his lap. He’d pat or rub her head once in a while. The woman didn’t appear bothered by her positioning. Her relaxed posture and serene facial expression revealed a peaceful state of contentment. She enjoyed being his pet.
My head remained lowered as I snatched glances at their interactions and at my surroundings. A loud burst of thunder clapped, shaking my insides as an instant jolt of fright bolted through my body. I inched closer to Ansel, gripping his strong arm like my life depended on it.
Every light in the place had gone out, and every voice had quieted. No shuffling feet. No conversations, drinking or dancing. All had been paused and drenched into a thick darkness that was alive with anticipation.
“It’s okay. The show will start soon,” Ansel whispered, his lips teasing my lobes as his warm breath eased some of my tension.
What show? What was Ansel talking about? My questions sat, parked on my tongue so I didn’t come off as a disobedient sub. Shadows billowed against the darkness, in quiet wait, searching for the spark that would bring life back into this space.
I jumped. The lights surrounding a stage I didn’t know was there popped on with a loud, scratching flick. Small specks of light started to sparkle from the ceiling like stars twinkling in the sky. My anxious gaze roamed as my neck twisted back and forth. The stage and scene starting to unfold stilled me.
Movement on the stage gave way to light in hues of blues and greens that lit up the scene. I could make out a large bed, its thick wooden posts nearly reaching the ceiling. Atop the bed was a woman. Her pale skin transcended the dimness surrounding her, acting as part of the lighting. More light started to bring the scene to life. The woman was faced down, her limbs tied to each of the thick bedposts, spread wide. The visible part of her face bore distress.
The male character appeared, creeping onto the scene from the darkness behind the stage. Naked, his flaccid dick swung as he walked around the bed, circling his prey. I gawked, namely at his dick. Even though it wasn’t hard, I could tell that it was large. However, I didn’t think it was as large as Ansel’s when I touched it that one time he’d put my hand on it. It felt like he’d had a snake moving inside his pants.
The wicked thought warmed my cheeks, painting my brown skin in hues of pink. Thank goodness for the darkness. My gaze found Ansel, barely making out the profile of his face, but not missing that his gaze was on me.
A loud snap lured my attention back to the stage. The naked man held a long whip after having landed a lick across the woman’s back. She screamed out her pain, making me recoil with tension as her eyes pinched tight and her cries filled up the room.
Another loud snap caused me to jump before I squeezed Ansel’s arm. Torn, I gawked and feared for the woman, praying they were acting.
My gaze darted around the space, parted the darkness, and I witnessed self-gratifying play, and eager hands shoved down pants and up skirts or dresses. Some couples were one move away from having sex in front of everyone. This audience was getting off on what they viewed on stage. A snap sounded once more, echoing
across the space as the woman’s hair-raising scream sent my face behind Ansel’s arm.
He leaned back so that he could capture my eyes.
“You will watch,” he commanded as he turned my face towards the couple on the stage.
“He’s hurting her,” I murmured, pleading for Ansel to do something.
“He’s not hurting her. She probably disobeyed him like you do me, now she deserves her punishment.”
Was Ansel giving me a preview of what was going to happen to me? He’d already paddled me for telling him no. Was this what he was talking about when he informed he’d take me through stages? Was I expected to take such harsh punishment?
The man doing the beating was getting off on his torture, and his member had grown stiff. It stood out from his body, dark pink and swollen.
He climbed onto the bed between the woman’s bound and parted legs. He laid the whip across her back, and I noticed for the first time that the woman didn’t have a mark on her. The man slackened the restraints that bound her legs and readied his dick for penetration.
He leaned across the woman’s back and yanked her lower body up by her waist. The positioning gave the audience a clear view of the woman’s vagina, so drenched, her juices glistened even at a distance.
The man plunged into the woman who fought against her arm restraints, causing them to pull taut against the thick black straps that secured her to the bed. The man’s ass worked vigorously, his muscles tensing and releasing as he pumped into the woman, hard and demanding, from behind.
Instead of help, the woman was met with lust-filled gazes as voyeurs played with themselves and others. One sub had kneeled in front of her Dom, giving him a blowjob. They had no concern for who viewed their display.
Although torn in my opinion about the show, I found myself flooded with lust and unable to keep my eyes away. What was wrong with me?
Ansel leaned in, placing his lips to my ear. “Look at her face. Believe me, he is not hurting her, and if he is, she loves it.”