My driver parks behind Club Crave’s private entrance. I step out of the car, slipping on the simple leather mask that covers my eyes and the top of my nose. Even before I had a desire to protect my identity, I always chose to wear a mask here. The thrill of anonymity and the extra degree of control always gave another layer to my enjoyment. Control. It’s what drives me. It’s what I thrive on.

Dean is already waiting for me. Club Crave is a simple building from the outside. Unassuming. Red brick, blacked out windows, and nothing to mark it as a favorite spot of the filthy rich and filthy minded. Dean wears a mask similar to mine, but I would recognize what little I can see of his face anywhere. He smirks at me and claps me on the shoulder.

“Logan Steele is back on the prowl. Women beware,” says Dean. “How does it feel?” he asks. Something in his tone irks me. It’s a little patronizing, maybe, but I can’t be bothered right now. I have other things on my mind.

I straighten my jacket and tie, fixing him with a hard glare. I’m not in a mood to joke or banter. I’ve waited too long for this. My body hums with energy, cock already hard and pulsing. I have to grit my teeth to hold back the anticipation, the burning need to dominate. I push past Dean, leaving him at the entrance.

The club is full, doms and subs on full display even in the lobby. The walls are deep black polished stone marbled with white. Flickering red candlelight illuminates the room, casting everything in a sensual scarlet color. I move past security, flashing the pin on my lapel that marks me as a member. I’ve still been paying the exorbitant membership fee all these years, despite not knowing if I would ever come back. Canceling my membership would have felt too permanent, and I think I always knew I would come back.

A dom in an expensive suit and leather mask walks by, dragging his sub by the diamond-encrusted collar wrapped around her neck. She follows, hands folded in front of her submissively. Her dress is nearly transparent, and she wears only a thin black thong. Another dom is reclining while a sub rubs her small hand up his thigh and squeezes his cock. A blonde stands and watches them with a look of irritation. My guess is he’s punishing her for something, but the sub is doing a poor job of hiding how much her punishment is turning her on.

I breathe in deeply through my nose. All the old heat and energy of this place seeps into me. Whether I find a sub or not tonight, just being back is good. I’ve repressed this for too long. I need it.

I see Dean passing through the lobby of the club, toward a pretty young redhead wearing a sleek dress with deep cuts up the sides that don’t leave anything to the imagination. He leans in close, speaking to her softly as she nods her head obediently. When he walks back to me, she follows closely behind him, keeping her eyes downcast.

“New sub?” I ask him.

He nods. “Ava has a habit of misbehaving. We were just establishing the newer, more strict rules for tonight. I was very clear about the consequences, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, Sir,” she says meekly.

Dean favors her with a light dragging of his fingertip down her jawline. The corner of her mouth pulls up in a satisfied smile, and Dean hisses in a quick breath. “Your ass is mine for that later.”

Her cheeks redden and she bites her lip.

Dean sighs, shaking his head, but not completely hiding the grin on his mouth. “Training this one hasn’t been easy.”

I nod distractedly, eyes scanning the room. I still remember when I was first introduced to the lifestyle. I learned early the most important element of a dominant and submissive relationship is communication of desires. The line between enjoyment and abuse is an easy one to cross, and it’s a line I don’t take lightly. I’ve always been careful, which gave me all the more reason to be pissed when Lana claimed I had abused her.

What a bunch of bullshit.

I’ve never found enjoyment in causing pain. When I punish a sub, it’s not her pain that turns me on. I’m driven by the complete trust required for a healthy relationship between a dominant and his submissive. When a woman gives complete trust and control to me, the power is like a drug. All I want to do with the power is explore her limits and bring her to new levels of pleasure she’s never found. That’s what it is for me. Just like I enjoy pushing myself to the absolute limit in my business, I like to bring women to theirs in the bedroom. I like to watch them learn what they’re capable of and love every second of it.

I move away from Dean and his sub, drawn toward a young woman near the edge of the lobby, where a dark hallway leads to some of the public pleasure rooms. I can tell from her outfit she’s new and uncomfortable. Fresh. The thought sends a burst of predatory excitement through me.

She’s talking to Madam Montpierre and nodding her head obediently as the Madam explains something in her slow, elegant way. I slowly move closer, ears straining to hear the conversation.

“...will under no circumstances do anything to damage the atmosphere. No matter who you are out there, here you play a role. You are a submissive. They say, you do.” Madam Montpierre pulls a white set of dangling earrings from her bag and hands them to the girl, who takes them questioningly. “Put these on. They make it clear to our members what you are and aren’t comfortable with. White means you’re new to BDSM and aren’t interested in any hard bondage, scat, bloodplay, or most of the other more exotic tastes some of our clients may have.”

The girl swallows, turning slightly and giving me the first clear glimpse of her face. Emmaline? It’s the same woman from my party who wandered into my bedroom. Fuck. My already hard cock twitches. I wanted her from the moment I set eyes on her. Having her just a few feet away from my play room was almost too much temptation. But if she was an employee like she said, I wasn’t going to risk getting involved, no matter how badly I may have wanted to, even though I was fairly sure she was bullshitting me.

She wore a relatively modest dress at the party, only giving me the slightest glimpse of her cleavage and the smooth curve of her hips. Her clothes tonight are equally modest, and are bordering on offensively conservative in this setting. She wears a red dress that’s entirely opaque and only dips slightly in the chest. The dress ends a few inches above her knees.

“I thought I was just here for show,” says Emmaline. The way her voice is full of hesitation and fear makes me want to reach out and put her at ease. “You make it sound like…”

Madam Montpierre tilts her head slightly. “Our clientele is not accustomed to the concept of something being out of reach. Our guests typically bring their own partners and will leave you alone unless you are out of line. Cases of guests wanting more from employees are… rare, but not unheard of.”

Emmaline nods, but her chest is heaving. I love the way she gets breathless so easily. If I had her in my play room, I would blindfold her, lay her out naked, and bind her to my bed. I can imagine how her chest would heave with anticipation as I teased and tempted her, the way her nipples would harden into nubs for me. Fuck. I have to have her.

“What if I’m not comfortable. I mean, what if one of them wants to do something with me and I don’t want to?” asks Emmaline.

The Madam smiles reassuringly. “You’re always in control. Remember that. But keep in mind, we’re selling the fantasy that you’re not. Do your best to go along with whatever a guest wants to the best of your ability. That’s all I ask.”

Emmaline nods, licking her lips. I watch her little pink tongue flick over her lush lips and almost can’t contain myself. I need to have her.

“What did you mean when you said they would leave me alone unless I got out of line?” asks Emmaline.

“Like I said earlier, avoid eye contact. Do not move too close to members. Assume submissive posture. Only speak when spoken to. All guests should be addressed as Sir or Ma'am unless they instruct you otherwise.”

“Right,” says Emmaline.

“You’ll be fine, honey. Just remember, you’re here for atmosphere primarily. Circulate the room. Be responsive when guests engage with you, and relax. Oh, and don’t dress so modestly. You can grab something from the back for tonight. That dress won’t do.”

Emmaline looks down in confusion. I love the way her forehead wrinkes with worry. She tucks her silky black hair over her shoulder and licks her lips nervously. “Okay…”

I watch as Madam Montpierre leads Emmaline through the hallway and toward a back room. I realize Dean has slid up beside me.

“I know that look,” he says. His sub is a foot behind him, eyes down and hands clasped in front of her.

“It’s her first day,” I say.

He whistles appreciatively. “She’s sexy in an innocent sort of way too. You may want to move fast before someone else breaks her in.”

I growl under my breath.

I try to keep my mind open for the next hour. I let Dean talk me into watching a public scene in one of the play rooms. A thin, willowy woman with blonde hair lets two masked men strap her to the ceiling by her wrists and ankles. They take turns with her, drawing out her pleasure inch by inch, making her shake with anticipation before they finally plunge inside her. My mind is elsewhere though, and threesomes never interested me. I’m drawn to the intensity that can only exist between two people. Two minds locked in the delicate play of domination and submission, pushing and pulling to reach the perfect balance where pleasure, fear, and pain all become one.

The woman is moaning loudly when I see a flash of gold pass by the hallway outside. I’m up and following before Dean can say anything to stop me. I step into the hallway, feeling my breath hitch when I see her. Emmaline. She’s wearing a sequined gold dress with a transparent cutout that goes wide from her shoulder blades to a narrow point just beneath where the crease of her perfect ass begins. My cock hardens immediately, already aching painfully from so much pent up desire and no release. I move behind her, evaluating how she’s holding her head too high and her back too straight. Too confident. Her eyes wander the room boldly, begging for someone to pull her aside and punish her.

She stops just inside the lobby and turns, eyes meeting mine directly.

Someone needs to teach her a lesson.