STANDING IN MY USUAL SPOT, gazing down at the congested dance floor, I watch as members grind into one another, their hands petting and groping, unconcerned who sees them. I stare at a couple, the man with his hand up the woman’s skirt, no care that she’s exposing herself. Her lips are parted. Her cheeks flushed. She’s on the brink of an orgasm. He grinds his hand into her to the beat of the music, until her legs go limp, and he wraps his arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
Everywhere my eyes land, the view is filled with sex, lust, and hunger. There are no limitations in my club. The rules are basic. Everything is consensual. When you sign my contract, you give yourself to this club. The atmosphere, the sharing…if that’s what you’re in the mood for. Discreetness is a must, and judgment is not allowed past the front doors. In my club, you get to become whomever you desire.
Before making my way back to my office, I did a round through the back hallway, taking count of the private rooms reserved for the night. It’s no surprise we’re fully booked. Some by the hour, some the entire night. It depends on the guest’s needs and their heavy wallets. Each member is allowed an allocated time in the private rooms to do as they wish. If they want more time, they pay. And a steep price at that.
Fredrick hands me the list of attendees, and I scroll down to see the usual suspects. A few names are old to the club, but new to the private rooms. Some members take longer than others to take advantage of the full amenities. It’s a place where people learn more about their likes and dislikes. Where they discover things about themselves that may have been festering deep inside them for years until making their way inside those doors.
Bondage and discipline are an acquired taste for some. For few, they learn of it when they become a member of Exquisite. A deep love for something inside them they never knew existed. Submitting and dominating is in us all, and it’s here you learn who you want to be. The private rooms are stocked with anything from a simple bed for privacy to a wall full of tools and objects to help satisfy one’s sexual needs.
With the changing of the songs, I lift my wrist to check the time. It’s almost nine o’clock. The anticipation to see if the girl shows has had me on edge all day. A part of me hopes she doesn’t. I know I’m playing with fire, but I’m also not one to walk away from a good challenge. The moment my fingers were deep inside her, I knew I wasn’t going to turn away from her. The little whimpers that left those bare lips of hers proved to me she was as innocent as they came. And I wanted nothing more than to break that innocence into pieces—show her naïve mind what the big bad world was really made of. Her scent of vanilla and purity filled my office as she came on my fingers. I almost took her into a private room right then, but with patience, comes reward. And all I needed was one night to get exactly what I wanted: her innocence.
The reward, however, will dull fast. She’ll be out of my hair by morning, and I’ll find another toy to play with until I get bored and move on. I’ve even thought about denying her the contract. For business, it’s not smart to hand over something as important as the company’s binding contract. If that got into the wrong hands, it would be bad for the club. I didn’t allow her to leave before signing her own. I needed her to be aware of what she was in for. The fear, confusion, curiosity—it all showed on her face while she read it. I had to hide how hard my dick got at each expression. Whoever this friend was meant something to her, and as much as she wanted to run, I knew she’d come back and do whatever it was I asked of her.
The package I sent over arrived about an hour ago. A black dress that would leave her back completely exposed. Her body was lacking the curves I prefer, but the dress will complement her slender frame. There was one item I requested when having my personal assistant shop and send over the package: a tube of deep red lipstick. In the card stuffed inside the box was a request for her lips to be painted red. Though…it was more of a requirement than a request.
I have plans for those lips. Oh, do I.
I check my watch again, just as it hits one minute to nine. I wasn’t bluffing when I told her not to be late. She will be on time or our deal is off. I’m not a forgiving man when it comes to not following directions. I pull my phone out to call Fredrick to give him orders to deny her when she shows at the door when I spot her racing past the bar. I lower my phone, intrigued by her persistence to get through the packed crowd. I try to get a look at her attire, but she’s weaving in and out of people too quickly. My eyebrows go up as she attempts to pass a group of men who give her trouble. When she drops down to the ground in her twelve-hundred-dollar Valentino dress and crawls under them, my lips crack into a smile. “Who is this girl?”
She disappears into the crowd, and I know she’s made it into the back hallway that leads to my private elevator. The clock on my wrist strikes three-after-nine when the knock sounds on my door. I’m not given the opportunity to offer entrance before arguing blasts from the other side and the door flies open.
“Seriously, touch me again, and I’ll shove this fucking heel up your ass.”
I turn to see Fredrick is fighting to keep a hold of her bicep and failing miserably. The stressed look on his face tells me she just put him in his place.
“Damien, I’m sorry. She’s got a mouth on her. The girl just pushed past me and—”
“It’s fine. You can go.” Stepping away from the window, I walk to my guest, staring her down, getting satisfaction from knowing I make her uncomfortable. The way her skin prickles instantly delights me. I place myself too close to her and take her in. The dress fits her like a glove. I knew the sizing would be perfect for her. I have no shame taking an eyeful of her breasts and how perfectly they fill in the front. I itch to lift my open palms and squeeze them in my hands. The way the dress slits in the front leaves her legs nearly bare. I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the back, but then she turns, offering Fredrick her death stare, and I take in the exposed flesh, so open and ready for me.
The image of my tongue licking down her bare skin has my pants tightening and my hand fighting not to grab her and rip the dress right from her body. But in all the visual indulgence, I haven’t even gotten to the best part of her: her lips. As instructed, her lips, plump and tempting, are painted red.
She spins back to face me, her chest rising and falling in short breaths. “I’m not late. Your club is overpacked. You should really fire your door guy. He’s allowing too many people to enter.”
She whisks a loose strand of hair out of her face. It’s obvious she spent some time on it, her wide curls falling down her back.
“Ms. Jensen, I said nine o’clock. It’s three past.” I lift my watch, as if I could care less right now about the time. A normal attribute I wouldn’t allow, but just seeing the stress on her face pleases me all too much.
“Yeah…well, again, your club. It’s overpacked. Don’t you have capacity laws? Not to mention, how do you even make money on booze? Those people can’t even make it to the bar to order.”
She has my brows rising again at her willful remark. “I didn’t know I invited you back to diagnose my company.”
Her slim shoulders lift in a shrug, then jump at the sound of the door shutting. Her eyes find mine again as realization that it’s just her and I in my office dawns. “Uh, yeah well…” She looks around, trying to find something else to keep her eyes on—anything but the lion in the den.
“We’re wasting time. Unless you have anything else you’d like to critique, I say we get started.” I begin moving toward her, and she stiffens immediately when I walk past and head to my desk. Bending down, I grab the keys to the private hallway. I turn back and her color has paled some. A bit of annoyance hits me as I address her. “Is something wrong, Ms. Jensen? You look ill.”
Her eyes are glued to my key ring, each jingle echoing into the room, causing her body to jerk. “Yes—no…I mean, yes. I’m—I’m nervous.” Clearly. The poor girl looks like she’s about to faint.
Walking up to her, more like a slow prowl, I fight the twitch of my growing smile. I should help her feel less scared of me. I do, in fact, want her to enjoy some of this. But I enjoy her fear more. I can smell it radiating off her. It’s not terror, though. She’s not afraid of me. It’s fear of the unknown. If I touch her right now, she won’t fight me, but her body will pulsate under my touch with unknown anticipation of what’s to come.
“Wha-What are you doing?” Her voice vibrates with nerves. I’m in her personal space, lifting my hand to her mouth. My thumb brushes across her bottom lip. I refrain from telling her what I really want to be doing—pushing her to her knees and filling her mouth with my cock. If she wasn’t so on edge, I wouldn’t think twice about making it happen. My thumb presses down on her lip, forcing her mouth to part. God, why am I torturing myself? Because the reward is worth the tease.
“I’m doing whatever it is I please, Ms. Jensen.”
“It’s just Jensen,” she corrects me. “And what exactly is it you’re going to do to me? The internet really has a lot to say about this sorta stuff.”
This girl. My brows lift for a third time. It’s rare someone intrigues me as much as she has in such a short time. “And what is it you think is in store, Jensen?”
Her mouth opens, then shuts. Opens once again. She’s going to get a mouthful if she doesn’t stop tempting me.
“Not really sure. Is this where I get down on my knees and…what? Like, submit to you?”
My smile breaks through, but to her, I’m sure it looks more predatory than humorous. “Do you want to submit to me?”
Her eyes light up, the fire back in them, just like our first encounter. “I don’t wanna do anything, Satan’s spawn. But you have me kinda by the lady balls since I need something you have.” Her mouth sends my mind to the dirtiest place. Just the word “balls” has mine tightening. Fighting the urge to flip her onto my desk and fuck her so hard, she bruises just from the way my balls slap against her ass, I take a steady breath and lower my thumb down the center of her neck. I tell myself not to press down. She’s not ready for that. I keep it gentle, making it just above her breastbone, then pull away.
“That I do. So, let’s get started.” I turn abruptly, startling her. I head to the door, open it, and step aside. “Shall we?”
She’s unsure what to do. Following me means trusting me. And she doesn’t. My cool demeanor starts to fade fast. She may be entertaining, but my patience is thinning. “Now, Jensen.”
She jumps at her name, snapping out of her daze, then exits my office, and I follow behind her, complimenting myself on the choice of dress. Her skin is exactly how I pictured it would be through those ratty clothes she wears. Pale, porcelain-like. The dip in her spine is so seductive, I bet she doesn’t even realize the power she has with her body. I admit I may have mistaken her with my initial impression. Her body may be missing my normal preferences, but her other attributes more than make up for them.
“Where are we going?” Her voice breaks into my thoughts. I take a large step, now next to her, my hand landing on her lower back.
“A little show and tell,” I reply, the possibilities of my statement endless. Her mind is racing with what that could mean. We walk to the elevator. We’re quiet when we hit the basement floor. When the doors open, the sounds of the music break the silence, and I escort her out and through another private door. This one is fingerprint activated. Only a few of my staff have access to the private hallway. It gives entrance to view inside each and every room. We respect the privacy of our members, but there comes a time when it’s important to make sure no major rules are being broken.
We walk a bit more in silence until I stop. Taking a step to my right, I reach over her, my arm brushing against her breasts, and unlatch a small hatch in the wall. “I want you to look inside.”
She stalls briefly, but does as she’s told, placing her face up to the transparent mirror—
“Whoa!” She throws her head back. “There are people in there… They’re…naked!”
“They are. Keep looking. What else do you see?” She turns to me, confused. I nudge my head, silently instructing her to look again. She keeps her eyes on me another second longer and hesitantly turns back to the door.
“They’re…Jesus…”
“Describe to me what you see, Jensen,” I push her.
“Um…the man…he has the woman tied up.” She stops to swallow, struggling to gulp down the extra saliva building in her mouth. “She has something on her legs, keeping them apart.”
“Do you think she likes it?” I take a step closer, and the heat of my body hits her bare back.
“I’m not sure. I think so. Her eyes are half open. She looks…like she could be in pain, but also not.”
I know exactly what she’s looking at. The man has her legs locked in a spreader. I can guess set to wide. The woman feels dominated while the man feels the power of control. She is useless with her arms and legs bound.
“What else?”
“She…” She pauses to catch her breath. Her body temperature has risen. Each breath she takes is shortened. “He’s putting his fingers inside her.”
I don’t need to see to know every time the man enters the woman. With each thrust, Jensen trembles, as if she feels everything the woman feels. “How do you think she feels?”
“I think she enjoys it,” she whispers, no longer pulling away from the sight, entranced by how submissive the woman is. The sound of her orgasming on the man’s fingers has her breathing in small pants. I lean forward, brushing my chest against her back as I shut the window.
“Moving on,” I say, pulling back. I place my hand on her lower back once again, escorting her to window number two. Like before, I unlatch the small door and instruct her to look inside.
“What do you see?” I repeat, watching her body for reactions.
“Um…” She pauses to lick her lips. “There’s a man and two women. They’re having sex.”
“They’re fucking?”
My bold words cause her to turn toward me. Her eyes are starting to glaze over. She’s becoming turned on. “Same thing,” she replies.
Filthy language makes my new little toy uncomfortable. She turns away, but I lean in just as her eyes lock on the threesome. The man is roughly taking the woman from behind while one woman is stroking the other’s clit with her tongue. “Don’t you think the word fucking is more convenient for what they’re doing, though? Is it just having sex? Do you think he’s being rough with her? Or are the sounds she’s making telling you she’s enjoying herself?”
Her hands are on her dress, wiping at her sweaty palms. She is too easy to read. With each breath she takes, it’s a struggle to remain unfazed by what she sees. “Wh-Why are you making me watch all this?” she asks, but still doesn’t pull away.
“I thought you were curious about what happens in a sex club? Are you curious, Jensen?” The fact that she still hasn’t taken her eyes off the scene before her tells me she’s more than curious. The sounds radiating from the room would heat anyone’s inner core. I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was getting turned on by her curiosity. I stand there in silence while we both watch the intimate scene before us. The way the woman laps away at her lover. The way the man takes exactly what he wants without shame. Three adults giving and taking until they’re content and sated. Just as the man begins to grunt out his release, I shut the door.
“Why’d you shut that?” She whips around to face me, catching herself the instant the question leaves her lips. Her cheeks are flushed, as I knew they would be. I’d bet both my balls her nipples are hard as fuck too.
“Because their orgasms are theirs. Not ours. Let’s keep moving.” I escort her to door number three. I don’t need to instruct her this time. She willingly places her face against the glass. Without asking, she speaks. “He’s spanking her.”
“What else?”
“He’s teasing her with a stick of some kind. She thinks he’s done, then”—she jerks—“he hits her again.”
I lean forward. “Do you think she likes it or wants it to stop?” I breathe into her ear.
She takes a few seconds to respond. “She likes it. She wants him to hit her.”
The strain in her voice turns me on so much, I could probably pound a hole in the cement wall with how hard I am. The purpose of this was to bend her into submission. I knew this would go one of two ways. She would be sickened by what she saw or turned on. I never expected her reaction to have such an effect on me. “Do you wish that was you being spanked by that flogger?” I ask, knowing it’ll bring her mind back to yesterday when I took my open palm to her ass. She enjoyed it. There was no hiding the way she couldn’t fight the grind of her sweet pussy against my thigh.
“Answer me,” I demand, needing to feed my own arousal with her response.
“Yes,” she confesses, barely above a whisper. My dick jolts. I should take my belt off right here and take it to her ass. Whip her until she begs me to give her what she really wants. She may be inexperienced, but that doesn’t hide the need. Everyone knows exactly what they want deep down. They may not know how to properly ask for it, but she wants to submit.
A sick smile creeps across my face as I lean in, shutting the door. I almost shutter a laugh when I hear her quiet sigh of disappointment.
“What’s next?” she asks, starting to walk away. I grab her forearm, stopping her and pulling her in the opposite direction where the fully-stocked rooms are. I don’t reply to her. I prefer to let the anticipation build. She’s antsy. Her hands are locked together. She’s fidgety. I stop at a full-length door and pull out my key ring. Inserting a large key into the lock, I open the door and instruct her to enter.
The room is no bigger than ten by ten. The deep plum color on the walls gives it an intimate feel, taking away any insecurities one might feel at the objects hanging from the ceiling. One, in particular, the hanging swing. I stand back and allow Jensen to tour the room on her own. My own curiosity piques as her fingers brush along certain objects. She finds the flogger and pulls it through her fingers, fulfilling the curiosity of how the tip feels.
She jumps at the sound of the door shutting and looks my way, offering me the gift of her aroused face. Her eyes are lost in the haze of the room. The potential. She witnessed what some of these things could do. Can offer someone. I’d bet my life her pussy is so swollen and wet, a mere flicker and she’d come.
“Would you like to try it?” I walk over and dislodge the flogger from the wall. Her eyes widen as they follow the tool in my hand. I fight the urge to take her off guard and strike her, feeling the need to tread lightly. “Put your hands on the bed.”
“What? Why?” She panics.
“Do what I say. I won’t hurt you.” She looks at me, finding the reassurance she needs that I’m telling the truth, and turns, placing her hands on the dark silk covered bed. I walk up behind her, rewarded by a sexy as fuck squeal as I pull her hips up. With my knee, I push her legs wider.
I truly underestimated her at first sight. Gazing at her taut little ass, I mentally take back the comments I made. The things I would do to her and enjoy every single bit of…
I raise her ass just a little more so I have access to her pussy, and commend myself for the dress choice. Due to the slit, I can see her wet panties. I didn’t send over lingerie because I knew the dress didn’t require a bra. But it seems she took it upon herself to ditch those awful cream panties from before for a black thong. I wonder what she would do if I dropped to my knees and put my mouth around her swollen cunt and sucked the orgasm right out of her. I’m tempted to do just that, but the way her body begins to shake tells me she would be disappointed if the flogger went unused.
“Don’t move or I won’t touch you.”
She turns her head to look at me. “Isn’t it don’t move, or you will touch me?”
“No, my innocent one. You want me to touch you. If you disobey, I deny you. Are we clear?”
Her eyes light up. Her mesmerizing hazel irises disappear behind lust-filled orbs. I grind my jaw, fighting every fiber inside me to go slow. I’ve never been one not to take exactly what I want. But right now, I’m holding back. And it’s slightly angering me. I shouldn’t care what she wants. She asked for this.
“Turn your head,” I demand, bringing my hand up, finding the perfect grip on the leather stick. I count to five in my head, each second angering me further. Once I get to five, I swipe the flogger between her legs. The rabbit fur smacks at her flesh. The quick sting results in a jolt, followed by the perfect moan from her lips. I want her to turn around so I can see those red lips open and purr for me when I do it again. I give her another five seconds to gather herself before striking again.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Is using the word fuck acceptable now?” I take my free hand and knead her ass cheek.
“Yes—no. I don’t know.”
I whip her again. Just light enough that she’ll receive the reward she wants, but not the blast she needs. I’ve been in this business long enough to know what women want. How long it’ll take for them to beg. Even the most headstrong women always do. If I hit her against her clit one more time with the force she desires, she’ll come. I’m not sure what game I’m trying to play with her anymore. My vision fogs over with lust, need, greed. I want nothing more than to do things to her. Hurt her. I never said I was a good man, and this game I’m playing is starting to put me on edge.
I pull away, dropping the flogger. Giving her my back, I rein in my own need for release and walk to the corner of the room where there’s a lever to lower the swing.
“What’s happening now?” She’s scrambling off the bed, her face flushed as she watches the swing lower in front of her.
“We’re gonna go for a little swing.” I return to the center of the room, steadying the seat, and open the latch. “Climb in,” I instruct. She stalls for a short moment, then does as she’s told. She has to lift her dress above her knees to close the bar between her legs. I don’t pretend I don’t notice the smeared wetness on her thighs.
“Arms up.” Grabbing her left forearm, I bring it to the clasp that will lock her arm in place and repeat with her right. Once complete, I step back and study my prey. She looks absolutely breathtaking. I want to strip her bare and mark her with every object in this room.
“What now?” she asks, so innocently, I could laugh. I hold back, pulling the remote from the side of the seat and turning it on. “Oh!” she squeals, figuring out what’s next.
“How does that feel?” I ask. Her eyes dilate at the vibrating sensation coming from the bar between her legs.
“It tickles. Turn it off,” she demands. She’s ashamed now to be facing me so aroused. I turn the dial higher. “Oh God, off! I said off!” she yelps, trying to pull her arms free. Her mouth falls open, struggling to fight it. She wants to show me she’s mad, but she’s too close. I turn the dial higher. “Ohhhh…” she moans. Her hands stop fighting as she grips the swing chain for support. With each level I increase, her moans become louder. Her eyes shut as she begins grinding against the swing. “Oh, fuck—fuck—Jesus…” her voice fades off as her much-needed orgasm blasts through her.
I’m tempted to increase the speed just to watch her squirm into another fit of pleasure. I’m more tempted to whip my cock out and beat off to the scent of her, making her swallow me just as I come. I drop the remote and unlock her from the chair. She’s in my arms immediately as I hoist her up and with a tight restraint around her, I carry her to another private elevator leading straight to my office, struggling with right and wrong. She’s not built to withstand the things I want to do to her. She’s young. Way too fucking innocent.
I drop her feet to the ground, barely offering her a hand to steady herself. There’s silence between us as I walk over to the window and stare down at the empire I’ve built.
“So, um…are we done then?”
Far from it.
I turn, startling her, and go to the bookshelf holding the contract she signed. “Change of plans,” I say, pulling out a new form, one with stricter guidelines.
“What do you mean, change of plans?” Her mouth drops open as her eyes widen. Good, she should. I throw the new contract on my desk. “Sign this.”
She leans over, picking up the contract, more confused. “Why? I already signed one. What’s this one for?”
I throw her a pen, and she catches it. “To give me what I want.”
“Yeah, for the night. Then you give me what I want.”
“And now you’re going to be mine for longer.”
Her sated expression changes to one of anger. “What do you mean, longer?”
“I just extended our deal.”
“Wait, what?” she gasps, tossing the contract back on the desk.
“I’ve extended our deal. Thirty days. You belong to me.”