“Ready, princess?” J.P. asked me as we walked into the lobby of his dungeon.

“Yes, I’m very ready,” I said with confidence.

While we waited in line at the check-in counter, I looked around the elaborate lobby. The lighting cast seductive shadows on the large black and white photographs that decorated the walls.

“Hi, Master Paul,” a chipper voice from behind the counter greeted and smiled at me when we made eye contact.

“Evening, I brought a guest with me tonight.”

The girl took my driver’s license and wrote some info down while J.P. collected a clipboard with a four by six info card on it.

“Come, we’ll sit over here and fill it out.”

J.P. guided me over to the large wooden bench that went the length of the wall in the lobby. I quickly filled out the card and put Samantha’s name and number down for an emergency contact, and J.P. had me put his name and number down as well.

“Use Paul on the card for my name, princess.”

“You go by your middle name here?”

“Yes, remember I like it better.”

“Do you want me to call you Paul, too?” I asked.

“No, princess. You’re special. I’d like for you to continue calling me J.P. It’s our special thing.”

I smiled brightly knowing that it was our special thing. After I filled out the info card, J.P. signed his name in the box that was reserved for an “authorized signature.” J.P. is a member of the board here, so he was most certainly an authorizing name.

“So, tonight I’d like to show you around, and then if you’re feeling up to it, we can play a little in the dungeon,” J.P. said as we walked toward the large set of double doors.

Just to the right of the doors leading inside the club was a sign that read: Leave Your Inhibitions Here. Above the door “Welcome to Irons” greeted all patrons.

J.P. pulled the doors open, and I followed him into his world as he led me to the bar. I sipped on a rum and Coke while he had a beer and casually pointed out a few people. As he told me about a Mistress and her male slaves, I couldn’t help but notice a small gathering of some women in a designated area.

“Good evening, Paul,” a polite voice from behind me said. “I see you’ve brought a guest tonight.”

J.P. stood up straight and nodded at the muscular gentleman.

“Princess, this is my friend that I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is the friend he’s been at odds with. I smiled at the man and J.P. introduced us.

“Amy, this is my friend, Blake. He’s the owner of Irons. Blake, this is Amy.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Amy, and welcome to Irons. Enjoy your evening and please take a look around at everything,” Blake said.

“Thank you. J.P., I mean Paul, is going to give me the grand tour shortly,” I said.

Blake smiled but seemed to be doing one of those silent conversations with J.P. The kind that I usually had with Samantha. He smiled and left us alone. The man seemed nice, but I could feel the tension between J.P. and Blake.

My attention turned back to the area of a small group of women that were gathering.

“What are they doing?” I asked J.P. “They seem to be in a hurry.”

“Those are the unattached subs. They congregate in that section, and any Doms or Tops can approach them to negotiate a scene,” he said.

I turned my attention back to the unattached subs and watched as they scurried into position as two men approached. Oh, my God. They were quite possibly the sexiest men I’ve ever seen. The taller one with the dark brown hair seemed to do most of the talking, but then the one with the light brown hair smiled and I wasn’t sure which one was hotter. They certainly seemed to have a reputation here though because all these women were lined up to see them.

“Who are those two?” I asked J.P.

I hadn’t turned my head or moved from my spot. I was too busy watching the star-struck women get starry-eyed over the two men. When I realized J.P. wasn’t saying anything, I turned around to look at him. He was staring at me in a weird way. It was almost in a cold way.

He didn’t seem like the romantic sadist I loved.

“J.P.,” I said his name.

I turned back to the small group as I heard some clapping and cheering. The men had pulled their shirts off. From where I was sitting, I could see that the man with the light brown hair was the one in J.P.’s pictures. He’s the one with the scar. I looked back at J.P. and met his ice-cold stare.

“Princess, that’s Anthony Graves; the prince of Irons, and my little muse. And the other one is Colin Everett. King of the fucking world.”