by Vivian Ward
“Whatever,” he takes the flowers and starts out the door. “I’m just looking out for her.”
“Pay no attention to him,” Kristin says.
“Oh? You mean like usual?” The two of us laugh.
Finishing up with the floor, I think about how right she is. If I can get in good with Colton Kaswell, it could change my life. I wouldn’t have to do mediocre news stories or have years of experience. All it would take is one major story to make me popular.
Chapter 3
Colton
Meeting Ally was a breath of fresh air. It seems like everyone knows who I am before I meet them, and they all want something from me. This might sound crazy, but I liked the fact that she didn’t know who I was. It was nice to talk to someone who was genuine and treated me like the average Joe with no expectations.
Even the real estate agents who walk into my office flaunt themselves in hopes that I’ll do some favor for them whether it’s throw extra money their way, give them a permanent job with my company as a realtor, or some other sort of benefit.
Rumor got out a long time ago about my club but no one’s ever been able to prove it. I’ve had to ban a few members from Club Kaswell, and I’d be willing to bet that one or two of them have done some talking. It doesn’t matter though because the way I conduct myself in the public eye, no one would believe those things anyway.
I make sure that I always donate to charity and attend local fundraisers to help keep my name in a good light, and I also donate one house per year to a family in need. Kaswell Properties even sends out Christmas cards with an Applebee’s gift card to each of their tenants as a way to spread the holiday spirit.
Only members of Club Kaswell have seen the kinky side of me, and even then, it’s a select few. That’s mostly because I like to take women behind closed doors where no one can see the things that I like to do, but every now and then, I’ll play out in the open with the others. I’m just careful not to take things too far when I participate in group activities.
The select few who know me—and I mean really know me—are a couple of ladies, Brooke and Valerie, that I see regularly. Tyler knows the gist of the things I do behind closed doors, but he’s never been there to witness them firsthand. I made both women sign an NDA, or non-disclosure agreement, before I’d take things to the next level with them—and neither one of them have ever regretted it.
My dark, sadistic side isn’t for everyone, but the ones who enjoy it also reap the rewards from it as well. Valerie was the first to ever sign my agreement. Initially, she was leery but once she did, she never looked back. In her words, sin had never felt so good. She likes being treated like a bad girl, but she can be needy and that’s why the two of us don’t see each other all that often; maybe two to three times per year when she meets me at the club.
The way we became intimate was almost by accident. She was married to one of the members who I ended up having to ban. I’d fucked her a few times at some of the group events, and we later became friends during her divorce. She’d started frequenting the upstairs lounge, nursing drinks just to get away from him at times, and the two of us formed a friendship that way. Ironically, it was around the same time that I had to ban her soon-to-be ex-husband because he put his hands on her in my club. One thing I don’t tolerate is spousal abuse. Choking, slapping, spanking, and shit like that during sex or role play are fine, but when you haul off and hit someone because they said something you didn’t like is a completely different matter.
Even though I revoked his membership and had him thrown out, I allowed her the option to stay since they were separating. They’d been long-time members and I’d never had any problems out of her. Initially, she told me she’d think about it but quickly called me, asking if the offer still stood.
I don’t do relationships. I tried it once or twice when I was younger, but they’ve never worked in my favor so I accepted things for what they were and began enjoying life as a single man with no commitment and nothing to hold me back. My colleagues and business associates always seemed like they were dragging their tired, bored housewives along on business trips, but after our meetings, I was taking advantage of the nightlife in whatever city we were visiting, fucking all the pretty girls.
And trust me, there were plenty. There’s no shortage of young, hot fuckable women throwing themselves at business men with money and I enjoyed stuffing every hole that I filled. Tyler even joined in with a few of them, but even still, it was nothing more than DP’s, face fucking, and double stuffing.
When I’d come back home, I’d often find myself lurking in the club that was always filled with willing women who had their legs splayed wide open, ready for the next cock to fuck her. There has never been a lack of pussy in my life, but I need more than just sex—and no, I’m not looking for love.
My true love passed away long ago in a car accident a year after our engagement. Melissa was the only bright light in my dark world and when I lost her, part of me died with her. For that reason, I’ve never been able to get serious with anyone else—not that I particularly wanted to—and I’ve never been with another brunette which is what intrigues me about Ally. Not only does she have brown hair, but she has a striking resemblance to my Mel. Her high cheekbones, chocolate-colored eyes and tiny nose all remind me of Melissa.
I crave something deeper, darker, more sinister. The sadist in me is hard to hide which is why I’m careful as to what I do in the open club. There’s nothing hotter than a completely willing, submissive woman who isn’t afraid to test her limits and let me take her to the edge.
Always to the edge.
But like I said, Valerie is needy, so our play is limited. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for a complete alpha woman but I don’t want to constantly tend to, comfort or deal with someone. I like a girl with confidence, someone who is emotionally stable, and someone who likes fucked up men.
Brooke, on the other hand, was made for the lifestyle. A pain slut who loves to be told what to do, loves being powerless, and is mostly emotionally stable. She has a bit of confidence but needs a little reassurance at times. One thing that I’ve learned about Brooke—and enjoy—is that she likes it rough. No, scratch that. She loves it rough, and the darker we take things, the more fun that we have. Now, there’s a dirty girl who knows how to be bad and enjoys the filthier side of sex.
When I say that we take things darker, I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean it literally. It gets my dick hard to wrap my hands around a woman’s fragile throat and feel her breaths passing under the palm of my hand as I slowly choke her until her breathing stills.
Initially, when Brooke and I started fucking, I tested her limits and edged her to the point of passing out but stopped far before she was anywhere close to it. It’s important that you learn your partner and build trust because it’s all part of the stimulation that comes from watching her eyes bulge, knowing that her life is completely in my hands as her breathing becomes more ragged and shallow.
Feeling her main vein beating against my fingertips as her body tries to compensate for the oxygen deprivation is what makes my cock rock hard. Making her come on my cock while she struggles for air is what makes my balls retract as my dick throbs inside her, but I don’t come until she passes out.
Fucking her limp body as it sucks air while I have complete control over her is what pushes me over the edge. So yeah, I like to take things very dark but even then, I like to experiment with limits. I’ve learned how to keep my partners unconscious for a few moments longer as I fuck and fill her pussy with my come by keeping my forearm compressed against her throat.
And this is why I require a non-disclosure agreement. It’s a written agreement consenting to bondage, being choked, pushing limits, and any other types of play that we may engage in. The NDA requires each of us to get full blood testing to ensure that we are both disease-free, and it also releases me from all liability and prevents them from discussing our situation with others so that I’m fully
protected.
In addition to our private play, sometimes I’ve been known to invite Tyler into the room occasionally because Brooke loves her DP’s—but so do we even though I consider them vanilla. DP’s are a dime a dozen, but Tyler and I make quite the pair when we’re together with a girl. I love feeling our cocks thrusting against the thin wall that separates her openings.
Ally doesn’t seem even remotely close to the girls that I typically find myself surrounded by, but I felt this immediate attraction to her. Her long, brown hair cascaded down her back, begging to be pulled while I choke some of the life out of her. And the way her plump raspberry-stained lips moved when she talked, I ached to kiss, suck, and bite them.
But I shouldn’t think of her like that. She looks at least five years younger than me, and I doubt she’s ever been exposed to the sick shit that I’m into. I also hardly know her which is probably a good thing because if I had the opportunity to get to know her better, it would lead to some very bad things.
Over the weekend, I hung out at the club and spent some time in the voyeur room. Club participation has been down the last six months so Tyler and I decided to extend some invitations to hopeful couples who’ve been on the waiting list for quite some time, and I’d say it definitely worked. You could say that watching people fuck is a hobby of mine and this weekend, the club was filled with fresh faces, new moans, and different types of new, musky scents that filled the air. I had a gorgeous blonde bombshell suck me off while her husband held her hair back in a ponytail as I fucked her face, but that was all that I really indulged. It was their way of thanking me for inviting them to become members.
Now that it’s Monday, it’s back to the dull, boring grind of work which is one of the main reasons why I opened my club. I’ve always been a thrill-seeker and risk-taker. Sitting behind this executive desk in my leather chair is hardly either of those things.
Picking up the manila folder from my desk, I tuck it under my arm as I leave the office and stop at Starbucks on my way over to the lounge. I’m a bit worried about my meeting with Ally this morning because we’ll be alone and I’m going to have to take her into the Club. I figure we’ll take baby steps and start upstairs in the lounge before we head to the basement. The girls are usually pretty good about making sure things are clean and orderly down there, but every once in a while, they’ll miss an obvious clue. It could be a condom or maybe a leather harness that they forgot to put away. I just wish that Angela wasn’t out on maternity leave so she could handle all of this. Her being gone is complete chaos in mine and Tyler’s lives.
Sipping the hot liquid from my plastic Starbucks lid, I patiently wait inside the lounge for her to arrive. She pulls in front of the building right on the dot and I open the door, holding it for her.
“Sorry,” she says, shaking from the cold. “I would’ve been here earlier but my car door was frozen shut from the sleet that fell last night.”
Pulling her wool cap from her head, she flattens the stray hairs escaping her loose ponytail with her dark red fingernails. The deep shade of polish matches the lipstick coating her thick, full lips. Peeking up at me from her heavy-lidded lashes, she licks her lips and parts them as she begins to speak.
All I can focus on is the way she looks in those skinny jeans and black, knee-high boots. Slowly, as she shrugs out of her coat, I can finally see her body for the first time—without the ugly apron that hid her figure at the flower shop when she was sweeping the floor. A tight, low-cut sweater hugs her breasts, exposing enough cleavage to leave a little to the imagination—which is when I begin to let mine run wild.
My eyes start at the shadow of her cleavage, traveling up her chest which is when I see her slender clavicle bones resting beside the little dip at the bottom of her neck.
Oh, my God. Her neck.
It’s so long. Perfect. It’s just the right length for my hands. For a moment, I picture my hand wrapped around her throat, feeling her pulse as we look into each other’s eyes and that’s when my cock begins to harden.
“Mr. Kaswell?” she says, reminding me that we’re in the present.
Chapter 4
Ally
Call me Colton. I insist,” he says, clearing his throat as he turns away from me to pick up a manilla folder from the table.
“Okay, Colton,” I say, trying out his first name. It feels so weird calling him by that name.
After Kristin gave me the scoop on Mr. Kaswell, I don’t want to blow things with him. I thought about him all weekend and I can’t mess this up. If I can somehow get into his world and see what goes on in that sex club, and find some way to prove that it exists, it could be a major story.
I can see the headlines now: ‘Billionaire’s Secret Sex Club Exposed’ with my name printed right beside the title. If I can pull it off, there’s a huge possibility that I might have my pick of writing for any one of the major media outlets. It’d be a dream come true.
“Good,” he smiles at me, his glance lingering a little longer than I feel comfortable with. His perfectly straight teeth almost look like they’re made of ivory, and I suddenly remember how important he is. He probably gets them bleached on the regular. Or maybe they’re perfect because everything else about him is perfect, too.
His suit is immaculate, and despite the sloshy, discolored snow that’s been melting for days, his shoes are just as shiny as they come from the store. It’s like nothing can tarnish this man—except maybe the story I plan on writing. The deep, rich scent of his cologne hangs in the air, filling my senses. I’m not sure what fragrance it is, but I can smell a hint of sandalwood in it which is one of my favorites.
Meanwhile, my disheveled ponytail looks like it has tentacles floating about my head from the static in my clothes and when I look down at my sweater, I notice there’s a snag in the material. I’m the complete opposite of him, but for some reason, he seems to like me.
“What is your theme for Valentine’s Day?” I ask as he begins to show me around the lounge.
This is easily one of the nicest lounges I’ve ever been in. Light bounces off the black and white marble counters while the black leather seating seems to absorb all of the light which illuminates the bar, making it a great compliment to the crystal blue lighting that accents all of the finest alcohols that money can buy. I’m certain that every liquor here is a top-shelf liquor.
“We’re actually hosting two parties,” he says, keeping his jawline tight. “The upstairs color theme is purple and teal. We’re going to decorate the tables, hang new drapes, and I have a special crew coming in to replace all of the lighting.”
“That sounds amazing,” I nod as I write down notes. “I think I have the perfect recommendation for you with those colors. Now, what about the other party?”
“That,” he draws in a deep breath and wraps his hand around the back of his neck while he leans back on his heels. “That is, um, downstairs.” Pausing for a beat, he finally releases his breath, “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
Following close behind him, we walk through the kitchen that’s just off the bar before we head down a long, narrow hallway. I’m hoping he’ll say that it has something to do with his secret sex club, but there’s no way I could be that lucky. Right?
Wrong.
We approach a dark, heavy door at the end of the hallway where he reaches into his lapel and pulls out a card that has a giant CK on it before swiping it through the card reader. I wonder if everyone who passes through this door has a card with their own initials on it or if they all bear his initials. After a barely audible click, the door unlocks and he opens it.
“Before we go downstairs, you must promise me to never speak of it. This is a private, members-only area where only special guests can go.”
Scratching the side of my neck, his eyes follow my hand movement as I brush back the flyaway strands from my skin. “Then why are you taking me?”
Surely, if this place is off limits for ‘non-members’, he could just explain the color
scheme and make up some bullshit excuse about having a second party, so there’s got to be a reason why he’s letting me see what’s in the basement.
Ignoring my question, he sighs as he tightens his grip on the door and says, “Because I need your help.”
Nodding in agreement, there’s a seriousness about him that I’ve not seen before and it makes my mouth dry. I swallow hard, and notice that his eyes are fixated on my throat when I do. It’s like he notices every single move that I make, no matter how small.
Without another word, we begin to make our descent down to the basement but I can’t see much beyond the sides of the staircase because of the angled ceiling that follows the contour of the steps. Maybe Kristin was right when she said that he was checking me out and flirting with me at the flower shop because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of me since I got here and he’s letting me go into the club. I just know that’s where we’re going. It has to be.
But that’s kind of crazy.
I mean, this man is gorgeous and could have any woman he wants—especially with the money he has. There’s nothing special about me. I’m as plain as they come. Jeans, sweaters, and casual blouses are about as dressed up as I get. And makeup? I wear a bit of foundation, some mascara, and a smudge of lipstick, but it’s nothing special. The only thing I really take pride in is my fingernails. I paint them religiously; I guess you could say that they’re my ‘signature’, but that’s not anything fancy.
When we get to the bottom of the stairwell, I’m taken aback by the dim lighting and darkness that surrounds us. There are hanging light fixtures strategically placed to give off enough light to see, but not enough to brighten the place.