by Clare James
My friend, Tash, was the exotic dancer who introduced me to this world after my wife died. After a few months of frequenting the strip club with Jameson on a fairly regular basis, Tash knew the dancers simply weren’t doing it for me.
I was numb, only going through the motions of my life, and the strip club was just a way to pass the time. Jameson and I found we needed something more than a bar could provide and we desperately needed something else to talk about once in a while. We were burning through conversation topics rather quickly.
So we started meeting at Crave, Tash’s place of employment.
Jameson took to it much better than I did. He fully enjoyed the strippers – loved it all, actually. The lap dances and the private rooms. I didn’t balk at it.
For me, watching was one thing, but deep down I knew these women didn’t really want to be there and definitely didn’t want to be grinding on some random asshole while he tried not to come in his pants.
I couldn’t even bother to tempt myself with a lap dance or private show.
“Hot stuff, you look the Walking Dead,” Tash said to me one night. “What’s up with you, love?”
Tash was like your typical guy – except for the pet names and her incredible body. She was easy going, relatable, and fun to be around. And she didn’t push.
It wasn’t long before we became friends. We started going to Cubs games on her days off – hanging out, eating hot dogs, and drinking beer. Well, they were some of my very best days during that dark period in my life. To this day, I can’t help but smile when I see a woman wearing a Cubs hat.
Sometimes Jameson would join us and we’d catch a flick or grab a steak dinner. And things really started to get better, though the numbness was still there. Always there, taunting me.
Until one night when it was just the two of us, Tash and I, and my edginess reached an all-time high.
“You’re wound awfully tight tonight,” Tash said.
“It’s been a tough week.”
“You know, I have just the thing for that.”
“Yeah, something to knock me out for the rest of the weekend? I think I need about forty-eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
“Better,” she said. “But you need to keep that sharp mind of yours open, okay?”
That’s the night she took me to my first sex club. I remember it like it was yesterday. The dim lights and pulsing music. The place was alive, but there was no tension, no anxiety – not like there is tonight – it was just release and elation.
Fucking bliss.
The sex club wasn’t at all like Crave where the dancers gave and the patrons took. It was everyone taking and giving, and getting what they needed all at the same time.
Yes, there were Dominants and submissives; leashes, chains, and collars. But the people who were bound looked even more satisfied than those holding the whips and paddles.
It wasn’t sad or abusive or weird.
It was beautiful.
I’m not sure April gets that, even as she makes similar requests of me tonight. Though she’d be in for a treat if I agreed, because I learned from the best.
After Tash and I became regulars at a little club outside of the city, Tash found us a third player – a thirty-something submissive with long dark hair that fell to the middle of her back.
Shit, the things she wanted me to do to her.
It woke me up from my sleep and made me come alive.
Tash taught me how to wield a paddle and flogger and nothing ever felt so good. Strange though, it wasn’t the release from smacking her round globe of an ass. It wasn’t watching her skin pinken after the flick of my wrist with the fogger – though they were all amazing experiences. For me, the real rush came from being in complete control of another human being. Gaining her trust. I became the focus of her world, and she became mine. Our only goal was pleasure and bliss, in that way you care for someone else more than you care for yourself.
I felt worthy and important. Like I finally mattered again.
Seeing April offering up the same gift after she’s been so hurt, and seeing her in need and her unfaltering belief in the power exchange, was something to behold.
How could I turn away from that? What if Tash or the other woman had turned away from me? Would I have survived?
Chapter 16
Stevie
The theme of the night – Swing-o-Ween – begins to take on a different meaning as everyone is paired off. Peachy, looks like we’re also swinging with different partners
And not in a cute square dancing way, either.
This is what Gabe was trying to warn me about.
I scan the room for my boyfriend, but it’s no use. The place is wall-to-wall kinksters, with some literally swinging from the rafters. But rather than being a turn on, it has the opposite effect and I find myself wanting to go home.
My well-built dance partner is lovely and his moves are mesmerizing, but he’s simply meh compared to Gabe.
I move to the beat and try to enjoy it, instead, I have a huge aha moment.
Truth is, I’m much more Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca than Nicole Kidman in Eyes Wide Shut.
I need my Bogie.
Yes, I think you’ve known that all along, Dorothy.
I need to get out of here, but there’s still no sign of Gabe and I feel sick to my stomach. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this on my own.
The room is growing more intense and scenes are unfolding all around us. Scenes usually meant for the private rooms. Crosses and spanking benches have been moved to the corners of the open space, and cries of both pleasure and pain compete with the music for attention.
I see what Gabe meant by chaos. This new brand of clientele has no boundaries or limits. A point made painfully clear as one of the masked men takes his turn servicing each Cirque performer.
As if that isn’t enough, I can’t get rid of the sensation that someone’s watching me.
How ridiculous, everyone is watching everyone here. I need to mellow the heck out. This was my idea and I need to put on my big girl panties and finish what I started.
My dance partner seems to sense my concern about the growing orgy-like conditions. “Let’s move,” he says in a soft low voice. I can’t leave the floor fast enough.
Where are you, Gabe? You promised you’d find me.
Chapter 17
Gabe
We move over to a metal A-frame in the corner of the room. It’s completely fashioned with harnesses, pullies, and every type of restraint imaginable.
Two years ago, I would’ve known exactly what to do with April. How to help her heal; how to bring her pleasure; how to ease her mind so she could trust again.
Hell, I’d been her. In that dark place. And someone helped me. Saved me.
So how can I turn away when she needs me so badly?
A low groan escapes her lips as I fasten her hands in the cuffs. The black leather covers most of her forearm because she’s so tiny – like a child playing dress up.
It’s been a dangerous game.
I pull and jerk her arms harder than I need to in an effort to help her relax. I’d know that look of desperation and vulnerability anywhere. It tells me that she needs someone to take over. This time, in a safe and responsible way. In a way she’s never had the privilege of experiencing. But because her needs run so deep, she continues to risk everything to ease her cravings.
Poor girl.
She leans forward, pressing her breasts against my chest. It’s not unappealing; any man in the place would give his right nut to be in this position. And I do have a free pass tonight.
The trouble is, this woman isn’t mine.
So I should leave. I know I should. It’s what my brain is telling me to do. What my heart is telling me to do.
But deep down, in my soul, I’m not okay with leaving. Because that would be the absolute ultimate rejection to this girl.
And I know what will happen if I walk out on her now. After she’s pu
t everything on the line to be here – bared her entire being to me. If I leave now, she’ll never recover.
But if I go through with it, will I?
***
I cuff April to the metal frame, and she still shows no sign of recognition. Most likely due to the altered state she’s in. I want to keep it that way. If we’re to survive the night, it’s the only way.
I signal to Jameson and he quickly takes Stevie off the floor and down the hall into a room.
I take my time with April’s restraints, delaying what needs to be done.
My eyes continue to roam across the dance floor even though Stevie’s gone.
Having her out of my sight doesn’t sit well with me at all; I’m about ready to bail on April . Until Jameson finally makes his way over to me.
Okay, now it’s time to get this night started.
He sees me and stalks over. Once he’s close enough, I see the question in his eyes. He was supposed to be watching Stevie.
I signal to him to take over on the A-frame, and that’s when he gets a good look at April and shit if it isn’t like the movies. He is… entranced.
Trying to snap him out of it, I trace a finger over her marks so he’ll understand.
Once he connects the mental dots, his face grows tight and the corner of his jaw throbs. Jameson is a true Dom and a very protective one at that.
I dabbled and had fun – but it was always more about the novelty of new things for me. The community, the excitement. Though I am of the alpha variety of men, I am not a Dom. Which is good, because Stevie would make a suck-ass sub. Though she loves when I take control, she can’t take orders or take pain to save her life. The one time I tried a paddle for fun – one covered in fur, no less – was the very last time. She walked around for a week after acting like she’d been hit by a truck.
My heart aches for her now – knowing that she’s wanting more than I can give her. It actually pisses me off. But if that is what I need to do to keep her happy, I will. I’ll swallow my pride and get her where she wants to be. But I will be there if she needs me.
So Jameson and I hand off. He takes April, and I go looking for my woman.
Chapter 18
Stevie
The rooms have changed a little since I’ve last been in one. When it was Gabe’s club, the focus was on worshipping Venus – the Goddess of Love, Sex, and Beauty. And by doing that, the focus was on worshipping women.
The inside used to be soft, sleek, and very Italian. But those subtle details are making way for bolder designs. I don’t know, maybe it was to match a bolder image.
What is clear? I no longer belong.
As my dance partner leads me down the hallway, the rooms are jammed packed tonight. Several ménages and group sex parties going on tonight. Plus, a foot fetish scene; plenty of whippings; and a few role play shows that I wish I could unsee.
I’m soon left to my own devices to get comfortable, which is code for get naked.
I don’t budge.
Instead, I look out the glass wall as people roam around, take their seats, or begin to put on a show of their own. I sizzle with the memory of being so open and exposed here.
Gabe and I never really talked about what we wanted for the future. We didn’t put demands or rules on each other. I was at such a different place when we got together. Up for just about anything. I was perfectly content sharing him during our outings; making our lust for each other public.
It was all we knew.
Then with each passing month, things changed. Tia was right about that. Our relationship became less about the adventure and more about the intimacy. Lately, I’ve been thinking about our next steps, our next adventure. I felt a little lame that it wasn’t about sex. It was about vacations, and a wedding, and babies.
I didn’t want to share Gabe anymore, and I no longer felt I had something to prove. Our ten-day hiatus from sex didn’t mean things were ending. I think it meant things were changing, and we were in a good place for that to happen. We could handle it, as long as we were together.
It isn’t long after my dancer shuts the door before he’s opening it again. I don’t turn around. It’s time to end this night.
“I’m so sorry,” I say to the wall. “I’m not feeling too hot. I think I’m going to head out.”
Silence.
“But I wanted to thank you for the dance,” I say, turning around. “I had a really nice ti—”
I can’t finish my sentence, because the man in the room is not my dancer.
Chapter 19
Gabe
My stride is quick and purposeful as I make my way through the grinding bodies to get to Stevie. I soak it all in along the way: the pulsing vibe; the heady scent of sweat and desire; the exchange of power that’s so intense it’s palpable; the electric energy; and the people. Beautiful people.
There’s too much stimulus within these walls. Something’s gotta give. Everywhere you turn are new scenes of sin. It’s difficult for even a mind like mine to comprehend it all.
Yet my focus is unwavering. The only person who matters is Stevie.
It’s just the two of us in this building for all I’m concerned, and I can’t wait another second to touch her. Hold her. Taste her.
She’s clearly not enjoying herself.
That’s my fault, I’m sure. What if, instead of Jameson, she was paired up with some well-hung young guy who made her body sing. Or what if Jameson used his wandering hands on her? Would she have said no?
Maybe she would be enjoying herself if I wasn’t manipulating the entire night. Is it bad, I don’t feel one ounce of guilt for it?
For all the planning and apprehension we’ve gone through to get here, the evening isn’t proving to pay off. I plan to change that.
Stevie’s really let me in – showing such vulnerability with this request, and I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure she gets what she needs.
It’s quiet behind the door labeled Rome. I certainly don’t intend to keep it that way, so I flip my hood back up, secure my mask, and walk into the room.
Time to deliver.
Chapter 20
Stevie
I gasp when the man appears from the shadows. He’s unfamiliar and it’s more than unnerving when he takes a step toward me, putting a finger to his lips.
Part of me wants to call out, “Stranger, danger.” Silly, I know.
There really isn’t too much cause for alarm. This is a public place. Nothing is going to happen to me here. It’s most likely some lost newbie trying to find his way back into a three-some or something.
The man in the mask continues on his prowl. His lips peek out beneath his disguise and I can see he’s smiling.
“Wrong room, pal,” I tell him, pretending not to be frazzled.
He continues to approach and my stomach twists.
Now, I stand.
“Dude, I’m serious,” I say. “This room is ocupada, so move along little doggie.”
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he peels away his mask.
When I get a good look at his face, I go cold.
The only word forming in my head is April.
Photos of this man were plastered over every surface when April lived with Tia. Not to mention all her social media sites.
So I finally get to meet public asshole number one.
The guy who abused my friend in the worst way.
He wears his blonde hair long, his facial hair short and stubbly, and his smile is of the creeper variety.
It’s hard to understand how any of it could be appealing to April.
“You really shouldn’t have said those things to April,” Ben says, scratching his chin. “Stevie, is it?”
“And you shouldn’t have beat my friend, you fuckstick,” I tell him.
“We were having fun, just like everyone at this club is having fun. Don’t let April fool you. That dirty bitch loves this shit.”
“Call her that again and I’ll find someone real nice to make y
ou a dirty bitch for a while.”
I take a step closer to show him I’m not afraid. Hopefully he doesn’t see my knees shake.
“You don’t get how all of this works, do you?”
“You’re an expert?” he asks.
“Well, you don’t see bruises on me or my boyfriend, do you?”
“But here you are swapping partners,” he says. “So tell me, how does it work?”
I move to push past him, so ready to go home at this point. I just have to find Gabe.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I tell the asshole, suddenly feeling very underdressed. “Get out of this room and get out of this club.”
“That’s fine, Stevie.” He shrugs. “I’ll get out of this club.”
“Good,” I say. “Leave.”
“Sure,” he says, blocking my path to the door. “But I’m taking you with me.”
Chapter 21
Gabe
Panic cuts through me; my body’s on fire.
The room is empty.
No Stevie.
I tear the place apart and there’s nothing.
Nothing but a shoe caught behind the door. And Jesus Christ, I’ve seen it before. Because I bought a pair just like them for her birthday.
I call Jameson and storm through the entire area, disrupting the happy crowd as I comb through each and every room.
There’s no fucking sign of her.
Jameson helps me search, and reports the situation to Sylvie, who dispatches the security team. My mind races with thoughts of what happened to my girl and I can’t breathe, I need to get out of here.
I have to find her.
This place that used to bring me so much comfort has turned into my biggest nightmare.
I think I’m going to be sick. And then I’m going to kill someone.
Chapter 22
Stevie
I wake up in the alley at least a block away from the club. The hair on the back of my neck immediately rises, telling me the danger hasn’t subsided.