My mind was going amok with thoughts of how to find this woman—. I had to call my private investigator, that was for sure, I couldn't find her on my own.
How could everything change in a blink of an eye? I wasn't saying that she was the one, fuck, that would've been ridiculous. But... I couldn't just let her go either, not without getting to know her, to see if she would fit in with us. The whole "what if" was what stuck with me. She stole my attention as soon as I saw her. That had to count for something, right?
Maybe, after waiting so long for a slave, I was getting desperate—we were getting desperate. That was more possible than her actually being the one for us. Maybe what happened was, we saw a beautiful woman, and that should have been that, but desperation... man... that could fuck a person up.
Even if she could end up being another of the hundreds we'd met that didn't suit us, I still needed to meet her. I wouldn't rule anything out until then.
"Hey... where did Gideon go?" Mat asked, looking around.
I turned around, but I couldn't see him anywhere. For such a big man, he could be quiet as a mouse whenever he wanted. I hadn't even noticed him walking away, though I knew he had followed us out here.
"He w-went outside," Jennifer pointed at the door.
Casting an annoyed look her way, I stalked to the door. Just as I reached for the handle, it opened, revealing Gideon's brooding face.
"Office," Gideon said just as quietly as he always did.
My office was on the second floor, away from the music and people. It was spacious, with a comfortable sitting area, a desk, and a private bar filled with only our drink of choice; rum and coke for me, straight whisky for Gideon, and brandy for Mat.
They both settled on my leather couch while I went to fetch their drinks and mine.
"None for me. I got a meeting early tomorrow," Gideon commented, grabbing a cigar from the table and lit it up.
"Where did you go?" Mat looked at Gideon, waiting for an explanation.
"Talk to the bouncers." Gideon was a man of few words; I'd never heard him talk more than two sentences continually before. I wondered how he managed meetings and work.
"Why would you talk to them?" Mat seemed puzzled.
Understanding dawned on me. The bouncers must have seen her ID, and I was sure they wouldn't have forgotten her. How could they? I saw her from a distance, and I was already hooked. They got to see her face to face, and I knew she would look even more beautiful up close. I didn't know why I hadn't thought about the bouncers, but it was good someone did.
"What was her name?" I asked right after Mat, making him even more puzzled.
"Emily Fields, twenty-two. She's a student, but they forgot which school she studies at."
"Oh, of course." Mat grinned, finally understanding what we were talking about.
Twenty-two, you say? That's not bad..."
"Fuck yeah, that's bad. She is young. She might not appreciate the big age difference," I disagreed.
Seriously? Mat damn it. He had a thing for thinking with his cock rather than his head. But for once, I was happy someone argued for it, even as I argued against it. Because, while I could see reason, I didn't want to, not this time.
I was the voice of reason in our little group. Mat was practically the opposite. Gideon... he just went along with whatever, most of the time.
"Twelve years isn't that bad. Well, thirteen in Gideon's case. Maybe she'd like someone with experience," Mat argued, and I wanted to believe him.
As much I wanted it, I still had to play my part and see which side won. This was why the three of us worked; we discussed both the good and bad before jumping into anything. "And then the three of us, who wouldn't be scared by that? Being shared isn't for everyone, and like I said before, she's young. It might freak her out. We can agree on that at least—"
"What if she's a sub? Just a sub?" Gideon's voice cut through our discussion. Fuck, I hadn't even thought of that.
"We could change that..." Mat looked at us hopefully. "You guys know how many subs have fallen at our feet, even when they knew we were masters."
I shook my head. "Hell no, that's where we draw the line. We won't convince anyone to become a slave. That will always be a free decision for anyone to make themselves without our influence."
Mat knew that, but I understood his eagerness. It wasn't often one of us—let alone all three of us—found someone who stirred our interest. Gideon hadn't said much about any of this, but that wasn't unusual. I figured he would protest if he wasn't in.
"Fine, let me go talk to Claire some more and see if she had any more information on that girl." Mat took one last swallow of his drink before walking out the door.
If Claire actually knew anything, Mat was the guy to get the info. He could sweet-talk himself into any anything he wanted—even talk himself out of anything as well, if the need arose.
Emily... We did have several young adults as members living off of daddy's money, but most here were in the beginning of their thirties, self-made millionaires. This club wasn't just for BDSM; it was also a place to connect with influential people.
What was Emily? A brat spending daddy's money? Self-made? Or maybe she had a sponsor...? Whatever it was, I wanted to know as much about her as I could. I said to Mat that we wouldn't influence her choice in becoming a slave, but that didn't mean I didn't want her here as a member. Maybe—just maybe—she would surprise us all.
The smell of tobacco mixed with a hint of cognac filled the air as Gideon puffed. I wasn't much of a smoker, but I liked to enjoy a good cigar once in a while. Gideon, on the other hand, could smoke with the best of them, cigars, cigarettes, pot... though, he preferred simple Marlboro.With my drink in hand, I waited in the quiet company of Gideon. He wasn't a fan of filling the silence with unnecessary talk, so I kept shut. My leg bounced restlessly as the clock ticked.Finally, the door opened, and a grim-looking Mat entered."Well?" I prompted him as soon as he got inside, anxious to know more about this woman."It was her first time visiting a dungeon of any kind. She said Emily was a submissive, and definitely not a slave." Mat went to the table and grabbed his empty glass. Glancing at me to see if I needed a refill as well.I shook my head in answer and swore. "How did she know that?""She asked. Apparently, Emily didn't like the thought of being a slave, at least not by the loo
I cursed as the alarm woke me up. I'd been in the middle of the most erotic dream. All I wanted was to go back to sleep, continuing right from where it had ended; It had just started to get interesting.The mysterious woman in my dream had been running away from me, from Gideon and Mat. Her ass jiggled with each step as she hurried towards the door in front of us. She wanted us to catch her, and fuck, I wanted to. I wanted to catch her and drag her back to the others, punishing her for even trying to get away.She had made a mistake, running into a room with nowhere to escape. My friends caught up with us and slammed the door closed and locked it.I had seen her tits move up and down as she heaved for breath. I couldn't see her face in the dream, but she had curves that almost brought me down to my knees."You can't outrun us," I had said as I took a step in her direction. The woman pressed herself against the wall. To someone else, she might've looked scared, but we had known otherwi
A week later, and I still felt mortified. I couldn't believe that I didn't think before I went to that club. Of course, a club like that would be expensive; I should've realized that given how exclusive it was. But no, I went headfirst into Desire's Den without any thought whatsoever. It was odd because that wasn't who I really was. I overthought and overanalyzed every situation before going forth with anything. I guess the reason I didn't do it now was that I didn't want to give myself an excuse to avoid going at all. And now I regret it.I hadn't researched any other BDSM clubs in the city afterward, even though the craving to explore submission was heightened much more after seeing it with my own eyes. I just... if I got burned once, I usually avoided getting burned again. For the first time in my life, I stepped out of my comfort zone—way out of my comfort zone, and I was left humiliated. Did that make me want to try again? Hell no."Get me a dry martini with lemon peel, shaken, S
Late at night, or early morning—depending on what you'd consider five am to be—we finally locked up. My legs were killing me, and my stomach complained about the too-small meal I had several hours ago.It had taken forever to get the customers out, count the money, and turn out the lights. But, when I stepped out of the building, I breathed a little easier.Money was tight as it was—being a college student living off-campus in New York City, but this job helped considerably. The tips were great, as were the paycheck I got every other week when I worked that weekend."Do you want me to wait with you at the bus stop?" Mark, my manager, asked as soon as we got outside.My pride wanted to say no, I didn't need anyone to watch over me, that I could handle myself. But... this was in the middle of the city. I would admit, I was scared of being on my own at this hour."It won't be too much of a problem for you?" I questioned, but I knew he would say no like he always did."Of course not, come
I was naked, switching between too warm and too cold; there was no middle ground. My skin was covered in a light sweat, and my nipples were puckered into two tight bundles of nerves."Is this what you wanted?" A man with a smooth, silky voice asked.It was dark, too dark for me to see anything but a shadow of a man. He towered over me, and I... I was tied to something, I realized—both at my ankles and wrists. The rope pressed into the skin as I tested the strength cords; it was a little uncomfortable and a whole lot delicious.St. Andrew's crosses, the thought flashed in my mind. Was that what I was attached to?Whack.Something hit me on my thigh, bringing a bite of pain with it. The sting was everything I'd ever imagined it would be, and far too brief, disappearing soon after that initial hit."I asked you something, and you would do well to answer me," he commanded, and my pussy clenched at the sound."Yes," I moaned, looking up at him through hazy eyes.Whack."Yes, what?" My puss
I came with a cry. My body convulsed as my pussy clamped down on nothing but air. My breathing was labored as the waves of pleasure washed over me.My panties were soaked through, and all I could do was wonder how it was possible to come from just a dream, with no stimulation. I'd never experienced it before.The light shined through the window, and the traffic outside was just as loud as it always was. Midday, I guessed.Although I was happy to work as a bartender, I hated sleeping the day away. It felt like I hadn't done anything too useful in those days. What was worse was fixing my sleep schedule after every other weekend when I worked at Euphoria.It was Sunday, and tomorrow I had a second job to attend, this one was a waitress job at a small family café.Some days I just wanted to pull my blanket over my head and forget the world for a little while. But I couldn't, not if I wanted to save up money for my last year of college, so I didn't have to take too many shifts while studyin
Silence. Complete and utter silence.At first, I didn't know what to say. What did all of it mean? And how were they able to find me? I hadn't exactly written down my number when I was at DD.With clammy hands, I gripped my phone harder, afraid it would slip, and I'd drop it. Taking a shaky breath in, I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out."I can understand the confusion, and I know you have a lot of questions. Do you know what having a sponsor means?" He sounded calm and in control, and in this conversation, he had all the power. Which, to be honest, was fine by me; I was too dumbstruck to say anything."N-no." And fuck my voice for sounding so small, stammering like a damn insecure child."Well, it means that someone wants to sponsor your membership at Desire's Den for the first three months," he—Chris—explained.My brows scrunched up. "B-but why? What does that person get out of this?" Who in the hell would pay for my membership? A quick count in my head and I realized
I stared at the mail longer than I would have liked to admit. It was so tempting to just accept, but was it really true what he had said? That I wouldn't be in any type of debt to anyone? If so, why should I say no?My mind was spinning, going over both pros and cons of agreeing to have a sponsor. It was a hell of a lot of money that someone would spend on me. That, in itself, was crazy, and I couldn't comprehend it. I was drowning in student loans, and now I might agree to get a hundred- and twenty-dollars' worth of membership? Bi-fucking-zarre.The prideful part of me was shaking inside, fighting to get out just to tell Chris, «Fuck no, I'll pass." But another part of me didn't want to do that. In other words, I was indecisive as all hell.Yeah, I would need some time to decide. And if I decided before the weekend, I could visit the club... I don't have work then, a small voice in my head whispered.Pushing it all to the side, I pressed play on the movie I was getting ready to watch