So far, Club X is like a den for sexual pleasure, exactly the fantasy I’ve dreamed of. Desire fills my blood as my eyes fall back onto the Subs and Doms fucking each other’s brains out. I even notice whips on the back wall of the playroom, and my skin burns even hotter as I remember how good my Master was with them. He was so good with whips; I learned to love their bite. In fact, it brought more pleasure to me than anything else he ever did.
“If you’re interested in finding someone…” Madam Lynn says, startling me out of my trance, “you could wait here.” My heart races, thinking about feeling it again. Would it bring me the same pleasure?
“Who would…?” I start to ask, my words trailing off. Whip me. But Madam Lynn knows exactly what I mean.
She gestures at men walking in and out of the hallway, and others who are watching what’s going on inside the playrooms. “Whoever you choose, Katia. You have no collar on your neck. Everything here is a choice.” She lets that sink in for a moment before she adds, “Don’t be offended if not many approach you.”
My eyes dart to hers, feeling self-conscious once again. “You’re wearing the bracelet of a Slave. And that’s a lot of responsibility. Most men here aren’t interested in being Masters.” Her eyebrows are raised, and she’s looking at me as though she’s wondering if I follow.
I swallow thickly and nod. “I understand.”
“Good.” She takes my hand in hers and pats it. “If you show your submission, men will come and offer you their partnership. You can always deny them.” I nod again and whisper, “Thank you.” My heart clenches.
And then she turns and walks off, her heels clicking across the floor. I’m left alone, trembling with excitement and desire, my mind racing with possibilities.
Fingering my bracelet, I look back inside of the playrooms, my mouth watering with hunger. I want that. I crave that. I want someone to dominate me. Own me.
Every inch of my skin is humming with desire. Madam Lynn’s words come back to me, Everything here is a choice.
Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes and make a decision.
There’s no time like the present, and I didn’t come here to let my fear rule me. I need to see if this is what I want.
I kneel on the floor at the front of the room, bowing my head, placing myself into a submissive posture. The sounds of the sex coming through the playrooms reaches my ears, and my breathing becomes heavy as my pussy clenches with need.
It doesn’t take long before masked men coming in and out of the playroom approach me. A few stop to speak with me, but once they see my bracelet, they’re gone like the wind. I feel disappointed, but eventually others that are bolder stop to interact. One man even stops to tell me how beautiful I am, and what a good girl I’m being. Yet his words are hollow, because after a few more compliments, he leaves just like all the rest.
It shocks me how their denial affects me. It shouldn’t, but I desperately want to be kept.
I keep my position, though I start to worry that none of these men want what I want.
It also shocks me how they prefer Submissives. Being a Slave means you’re more vulnerable than a Submissive, and for men who crave power, this should make me a very attractive partner. But in a way, the fact that a lot of these men respect the differences between a Sub and a Slave, and aren’t taking advantage of my vulnerability, the fact that they’re respecting my desires, makes me feel even more comfortable with the club. It makes me hopeful that if I do find a Master, he will be someone that I can give myself to entirely and entrust with my safety.
I stay kneeling, my forehead lowered to the floor for what seems like an eternity, watching masked men stop to glance at my bracelet and then continue on as if I wasn’t even there before I hear the heavy thud of footsteps approaching me from behind.
I resist the urge to raise my head as the footsteps come to a stop at my side. If this is finally someone who wants to be my Master, I want to show that I can be the most obedient Slave. At least for a taste. Just for a moment. I can always walk away. My heart pounds as I wait for them to say something, anything, my breathing slow and ragged. I jump slightly as a warm finger hooks my chin and I’m forced to look up into the masked face of a man with sharp, patrician features.
“Are you truly looking for a Master?” he asks me, his voice low and deep, his gaze penetrating. He speaks with authority and power. He has an air of dominance about him. But my desire is replaced by fear.
As I slowly nod my head, I feel a slight tremor go through my body. I breathe heavily, trying to calm myself as I see his bracelet is like mine. He’s a Master. I try to imagine him whipping me, but the sexual tension is absent.
This was a mistake.
The moment the thought hits me, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. A masked man walks up behind the man who’s still gripping my chin, but this one radiates something far more than power, his walk filled with confidence, his piercing green eyes staring deep into mine. There’s an air of anger, possession even, that’s rolling off of him in waves and lighting my desire aflame. My nipples pebble and my pussy clenches as his heavy footsteps beat on the ground with his threatening presence. Just looking at him causes my heart to race and my pussy to clench with desperate need.
I can’t even see all of his features because of his mask, but what I can see tells me that he’s handsome as fuck, with his chiseled jawline that sports a six o’clock shadow, and his intense green eyes that cause my skin to prickle from his gaze alone. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and his dirty blonde hair is slicked to the side almost like an old school gangster, increasing his sex appeal.
Good God, he’s so fucking sexy. My breathing refuses to regulate itself. He is a Master.
As he approaches, I forget that the man holding my chin is even there. This walking deity becomes the only thing that exists in the room for me, and his eyes seem to silently say to me, You’re fucking mine.
Chapter 7
Isaac
The moment Katia walked in, I was drawn to her. Her gorgeous blonde hair flows almost down to her hips. Her eyes are a paler blue than I thought they were. They're wide and full of curiosity.
My kitten is finally here.
It’s killed me to stay away and let her make this decision for herself, but I knew she’d come when she was ready. She wants this. She needs this.
I watched her as she took in the club, walking slowly as she nervously picked at the hem of her dress. Her chest rose with heavy breaths as she peeked into the playrooms. I wanted her to grow accustomed to the club. I wanted her to feel safe here and make herself comfortable with the atmosphere.
But I’m sure as fuck not going to let some prick steal her out from under me before I have a chance.
Joe Levi has his hands on her. Just a firm grip on her chin. But it’s a display of ownership and interest. He’s debating on whether or not she’s worthy to take on as a Slave. Some men like to break them, some like them already trained. In a way, Katia is both.
But not for him.
She’s mine. And he needs to get his hands off of her.
“Kitten,” I call out to her past Joe in a voice that makes him turn. My heavy steps echo in the room as I approach. I can feel several eyes on us, but I don’t care if I’m making a spectacle. I won’t allow it.
Joseph Levi is known to have dark preferences. Like me in some ways, but darker. He enjoys degradation and humiliation. Or so I’ve heard. It’s his reputation, but he’s only been at the club for a few months and he rarely interacts. He’s been to every auction though, but he’s yet to place a bid. Like me.
I should have known he was waiting for the same thing I was. For Katia. But he can back the fuck off. He has no idea what she’s been through. He can’t give her what she needs like I can.
But she doesn’t know me. She has no clue what’s in store for her. And ultimately it’s her choice.
Katia raises her eyes to mine. A shuddering breath raising her shoulders. There’s an instant s
park as her breath hitches. Every inch of my skin prickles with recognition. My heart beats faster, and my blood heats with desire. She’s kneeling and waiting for a Master. She was waiting for me.
“There’s no collar here,” Joe says, looking at me with narrowed eyes. I turn at the sound of his voice, ripping my attention from Katia and pissing me off even more. Irritated doesn’t begin to cover it.
“No, there isn’t.” I fucking hate that he’s right. And I intend on remedying that situation before she leaves. I don’t want her in here with anyone thinking they can take her. She’s vulnerable, impressionable. I need to make my claim on her now.
“Then you can wait,” he says in a cold voice, turning his back to me and stepping to the side to block my view of her. Rage spikes through my blood
Fucking bastard. My hand balls into a fist and from the corner of my eyes I can see a crowd forming, security making their way over to us. Everyone knows I won’t be taking that disrespect lightly. I have no right, but I don’t give a fuck. My heart races, and my blood boils. I won’t fucking allow it.
She does not belong to him.
I crack my neck, ignoring the approaching footsteps of Joshua and Dominic, and step up to him, my hand pushing on his shoulder to get his attention. I’m ready to beat him to a bloody fucking pulp if I have to, and I have a good feeling it’s coming to that.
I’m not a hothead; I’m not an overtly angry person. But when it comes to her, things are different.
His dark eyes dart to mine and his grip on Katia’s drops as he makes a fist of his own, preparing for what’s to come.
But before either of us can do anything, Katia speaks up, slicing through the thick tension. “No,” she says in a strong voice that rings out clearly. She instantly hunches in slightly, regret and fear clearly evident. We both turn to look at her, her wide blue eyes focused on the ground as she struggles to compose herself. Insecurity is washing off of her in waves. She lifts her head to look at Joe, vulnerability shining brightly in her eyes.
Fuck me, my heart crumbles in my chest. It will shred me if she feels something with him. I can feel the spark between us, the pull to her. Does she not feel it in return?
“I’m sorry,” she speaks barely above a murmur, her voice cracking. She clears her throat and then her eyes find mine. “Sir?” she addresses me, turning slightly still in her kneeling position to face me and placing her small hands on my shoe before resting her cheek on the floor. A sign of complete submission.
She chose me.
My chest fills with pride and I’ll admit it, arrogance.
Joe snorts at me and glances at Katia, but doesn’t say anything as he storms off. He brushes past the crowd that’s gathered and it’s only then that I really notice them.
Madam Lynn and Joshua are staring at me with contempt. This certainly isn’t discreet, and it’s not going to go unnoticed. I hadn’t planned on this. But I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers.
I ignore them. I ignore the whispers and the way Madam Lynn crosses her arms with obvious disapproval. I give Katia my full attention, crouching low to place a hand on the back of her head.
“May I look you in the eyes?” she asks with her gaze forward, focused on the floor.
I hate that she has to ask that question, but she has no idea what the rules are. She doesn’t know what it’s like here, and her perception of a M/s relationship is skewed and inaccurate. But I'm going to fix that.
“You may. Always.” As her eyes reach mine, I cup her chin and take a good look at her for the first time. Her skin is soft and sun-kissed. Her neck and shoulders are gorgeous; they're my favorite parts of the female body. The elegant curves drive me wild. She has a splash of freckles along her skin, and thin silver scars scattered along them as well.
She’s beautiful.
“Always look me in the eyes,” I say softly as I rub my thumb along her jaw, willing her to look at me. Those soft pale blue eyes seem to look through me, chilling my body. “Never hesitate to speak or to respond. Understood?”
I’m already laying down rules, but that’s the way it works here. We all have preferences, and it’s much easier to be upfront about them and ensure that the time spent isn’t wasted. Tastes within the club are specific, so it’s best to be forthcoming. And she needs to know what I expect.
“Yes,” she replies, and her voice lingers, as if she’s not sure what to call me.
“Master.”
She sucks in a deep breath. I can see she’s uncomfortable. That’s to be expected. She’s new to this. I need to slow down my approach and keep that in mind.
“When you’re ready, you will call me Master.” I debate on allowing it, but I concede, “Isaac is acceptable as well.”
She looks hesitant, and I hate that. She’s clenching her thighs slightly and her breathing has picked up. Which is a damn good sign since it means she’s aroused at least. But she’s still frightened and new.
“Yes,” she says, and again she seems as though she’s going to say more, but she doesn’t. She hasn’t budged an inch. She’s on edge and tense.
What she needs is to get off.
“And what should I call you?” I ask.
“Whatever pleases you,” she answers in a sultry voice, her body shuddering with pleasure.
I smirk at her response, feeling the adrenaline calming down and my dick hardening. “What’s your name?” I ask her, even though I already know. I’ve already decided I’m not going to tell her what I know. I’ll let her confide in me what she’d like to, for two reasons. The first is that I may have misinterpreted something and I don’t want her to assume I know everything, especially when her perception may be different from what’s written down on paper. And the second is that I want her to desire confiding in me. I want her to open up to me at her own pace. But to be a good Master, I needed to know her background, so I have no guilt or shame about looking into her past.
“Katia.” She’s quick to answer. Her voice is soft and soothing. It bothers me in some ways that she’s well trained. Someone else has taught her obedience, and I hate that. It's even worse that she was trained with methods that are wrong and disgust me, by a fraud. An abuser is not a Master.
I whisper her name, loving the way it rolls off my tongue.
“Did you come here to get fucked, Katia?”
“No,” she answers quickly. Her breathing is coming in pants now, and I can tell from the flush in her skin that it’s because she’s close to her release already. She’s going to be easy to satisfy. I like that.
“What did you think would happen when you came here?”
“I just wanted to see what it was like.” There’s a soft innocence to her response I hadn’t expected. I pull her off the ground and move her to a bench in the room, sitting her next to me and placing a hand on her thigh. I take a quick look over to where the small crowd had gathered and smile when I see they’ve gone. Good. I’m grateful for the small amount of privacy.
“Are you happy with what you found?” I ask her, angling my body toward her so she can see my focus is on her.
Her pupils dilate, and she licks her lower lip. “Yes.”
“You’re horny, aren’t you, kitten?” I tease her, loving how close she is to me, how I finally have her here.
She blushes, and a small smile slips onto her lips. “I am.”
“What turns you on?” I ask her.
“Just,” she gestures between us, “just this.”
“I need you to be specific.”
“I like you taking control.”
“Your bracelet has no middle band, so that means you’d like to be a Slave? You want a twenty-four seven power exchange?”
“I think so,” she says as the smile vanishes, and the playfulness turns into uncertainty.
“What do you need to convince you?”
She looks up at me through her thick lashes. “It’s been a very a long time.”
I know we’re compatible, that we would fit well as Master
and Slave, but she doesn’t. I need to show her.
I slowly unbuckle my belt. I’m going to push her limits, take control, and show her that she can trust me. And then reward her justly.
I’m vaguely aware that a few members of the club are watching from their places around the room. Although I’ve taken two Slaves from here, I’ve never participated in the playrooms. I’ve always brought them to a private room or taken them home. I have my mask on, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t know who I am. At least the ones who matter.
I’m glad they know though. I want them to know she’s mine.
I pull the belt from the loops, watching as Katia visibly tenses. The leather slides across the fabric, hissing as remove my belt.
I let the belt hang from my hand.
“I need to know your preferences.”
Her shoulders rise and fall quickly. “I’m not sure I know what you mean...” Her voice trails off and she visibly swallows.
“For instance, right now I want to fuck your throat.” I crouch low, wrapping the belt over the back of her neck. “I want to hear the pretty noises you make when you choke on my cock.” Her lips part, and the most beautiful moan spills from her lips. “Would you like that, kitten?”
“Yes,” she says eagerly, lust dripping from her softly spoken reply.
I unbuckle my pants with my left hand, her eyes watching as I pull the zipper down and unleash my cock. I stroke it a few times. “You’ll take what I give you.”
“Yes,” she answers obediently, moving to all fours on the bench.
I stroke my cock with my right hand and move her head down with my left. My fingers spear through her hair and make a fist.
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