Club X.

I suck in a sharp breath as I step through the club’s doorway past the lobby and into a darkened ballroom that I can only describe as pure luxury. The floor is covered with plush, royal red carpet that is intertwined with breathtaking intricate designs, and the clicks of my heels are muted against the softness. The walls are painted a soft purple and are lined with gold trim, while golden sconces give off a red glow, suffusing the room with a sultry ambience.

High ceilings give the place depth as well as an airiness that makes my skin prickle with excitement. I touch the bracelet at my wrist. This one is temporary, but everyone is wearing them. It’s just cream-colored rubber, but it’ll look like Carla’s when I join. If I join. The rubber is joined by three interlocking metal rings, with the center ring being black. She said it shows the other members that I’m a Submissive and that I prefer carte blanche, so the Dom has free range with me. The very thought makes my core heat with desire. Right now my bracelet is color is limited to cream because I’m learning. It will be apparent to everyone who sees it that I'm a BDSM virgin. There are other colors, but they aren’t for my tastes. The knowledge makes my breath still in my lungs as men pass, glancing at my wrist with interest, but I’m still taking in the splendor of the club.

There are scores of finely set tables throughout the large room, as well as booths with velvet seating lining the walls. At the end of the room sits a stage, the large red curtains closed, hiding the secret of what lies beyond it. On the far left side, there’s a high-end bar illuminated by neon blue light and outfitted with what looks like every drink known to man. Soft, elegant music plays over surround speakers that are artfully hidden, only adding to the luxurious vibe.

But the most exciting thing about Club X isn’t the extravagant finery. It’s the people. I walk behind Carla and Bruce, in awe of it all. My eyes dart this way and that, trying to take in everything, and I try, unsuccessfully, to calm my nerves. I settle my eyes on Carla’s backside and my cheeks grow rosy as I admire the view. She looks fucking hot tonight. She’s wearing a short dress that barely covers her butt cheeks and hugs her body, showcasing every delicious curve. In fact, every woman here has on a dress that barely covers her ass.

They’re everywhere.

Beautiful young women and masked young men that are dressed in slick high dollar suits fill the room. Even though their faces are hidden behind masks, I can almost feel the ambition, drive and authority radiating from these men, and it makes me weak in the knees.

Power. Wealth. Sex. It’s all here, under one roof.

Looking around, I don’t see a single man without a mask. Some are black and simple. Others are silver and themed with animals. The men sit at tables or booths alone, watching the room with an almost predatory gaze, while other men sit in groups talking amongst each other quietly. Other Dominants are accompanied by a beautiful girl or two, but it’s clear who's in charge. Nearly all the women are in Submissive poses or in the act of being led around.

I watch as a tall man in a dark suit, his face hidden behind a metallic mask, walks past me holding a chain that clinks as he walks. It’s attached to a dark-haired girl clothed in a silver shift dress. As she moves I can see the gown is nothing more than thin slits of fabric stitched together, her skin exposed in between the gaps. My eyes widen as the Dom tugs slightly, and the leash pulls at the collar around her throat. The Submissive tumbles forward slightly and the man catches her, pulling her into his hard chest and whispering into her ear. She smiles against his suit jacket as he chuckles and she nods her head slightly, looking up at him and responding with a soft, “Yes, sir,” to whatever he’s said.

He releases her and walks easily to a table where another man is already sitting.

The seated man, a tall blond, is eyeing the Dom’s Sub with intense interest, his legs planted out wide. He mutters something to the Sub, and she blushes at whatever it is.

“Answer him,” I hear the Dom command, looking at his Submissive with a heated gaze.

The Sub looks hesitant, although lust is easily read on her face before uttering something too low for me to hear and nodding slightly. At this, the Dom takes a seat at the table next to the blond man, and pulls his Sub into his lap, spreading her legs out wide and placing the balls of her bare feet on the leather-covered bench on either side of his thighs. The blond man moves in close and lowers the top of the Sub’s dress, taking out her right breast. My lips part in disbelief. I watch as he takes her nipple into his mouth and as he slides his hand up between her legs. Her head falls back against her Dom’s shoulder, and she moans softly with pleasure.

My breath hitches, and my eyes widen.

I glance around the room and then focus back on them. No one around seems to notice or think this out of the ordinary, and I feel my core heat at the erotic sight. Seeing as how this is a BDSM club, I expected to walk in on a wild orgy, where Doms would be fucking their Subs into submission, but the vibe is much more high class than that, giving off an almost secretive and seductive feel. But I’m still shocked to see something like that. My blood heats with desire, and my body feels aflame.

As I continue to watch the blond man suck on her tit, my nipples pebble and my breathing becomes ragged. I tear my eyes away, my cheeks burning with shame, when Carla whispers in my ear, “Sexy, isn’t it?”

Carla is gazing at me, her breasts heaving as her eyes dart past me to the couple and then back to me. I can’t get over Carla’s dress; it looks expensive, and it’s covered with glittering sequins. Both sides have long slits that show off her long legs, and nearly expose her pussy. Her hair is styled into a sultry deep side part, and her makeup is flawless. A Sub collar adorns her neck, and serves only to enhance her sexiness. It’s a thin leather strap with a polished gold tag.

She leans in and whispers, her eyes still on the scene to our left, “Bruce doesn’t share me. That’s not our thing.”

Her boyfriend and Dom, Bruce, looms behind her, his metallic mask glinting in the red ambient lighting, his dark, vested suit fitting right in with all the other wealthy men in attendance. He doesn’t have a leash on Carla, and a lot of couples don’t seem to have them either. Tonight, he let Carla be free of her chain, which she’s told me she customarily wears, but has forbidden her to walk more than a few feet from him. I was there when he told her the rules, and I couldn’t believe how eagerly she accepted them. She wants to please him. She craves his authority and his conditions. It’s a dynamic that’s foreign to me. I’d only met Bruce once before this. They seem like an average enough couple. But this is different. Much different. Here in Club X, he’s the master of Carla’s world.

Even though I know the basics of the dynamics behind a Dom and his Sub, it’s going to take me awhile to get used to seeing Carla so subservient since she’s such a hands-on, career-driven woman. I didn’t expect this. It’s one thing to fantasize about the lifestyle. It’s quite another to be immersed in it.

But that’s what being a Sub is all about, I tell myself, surrendering all your control and power to another person and letting them take the reins.

In that light, Carla is the perfect Sub.

I’m doing my best to fit in and copy Carla’s behavior. I’m wearing a backless black dress that rises up to mid-thigh and the front side is cut low, showing off my ample cleavage. Salon-perfect hair, sultry makeup, spandex pantyhose and glossy nude pumps complete my look. I feel sexy, but at the same time I’m extremely nervous since this is my first time here. All the women present seem to be playing their roles flawlessly, and I’m unsure I’ll be able to fit in. The thought brings my anxiety back to the forefront. I wish I could calm down, but I’m struggling to relax. Especially knowing the auction is tonight.

I can’t believe I could be bought by someone. Five hundred thousand dollars... or more. The thought is surreal. I’m literally shaking in my heels.

“It’s crazy,” I breathe, making sure to keep my voice as low as possible and my eyes in a safe place. Carla warned me that even if I’m not claimed, I have to play the part of a Submissive. I can't do anything that would disrupt the fantasy the club provides. I don’t want to offend anyone, and I don’t want to get kicked out. Looking out among the sea of masked men, my heart pounds. These are men of power, men that could dominate me just like I want. An image of being held down by one of them flashes in front of my eyes. Before I realize it, I’m trembling with a mix of arousal and fear. “You were right about this place.”

“Told you,” Carla whispers so low that I can barely hear. She turns toward Bruce, looking for permission, and he gives her an imperceptible nod. “Come,” she says quietly, gesturing at me to follow. “Let Bruce show you around before we grab a seat.”

Without waiting for an answer, she begins following Bruce, leading me down a walkway on the right side. There’s security detail as we leave the dining hall and go to the hallway where the rest of the club awaits. They check our bracelets and nod as we go through. Their presence only adds to the tension in the pit of my stomach. Bruce splays his hand on the small of Carla’s back, and she looks up at him with obvious appreciation. My gait is awkward as several masked men turn their heads my way, their eyes boring into me. I feel self-conscious under their gaze, unsure about my place here. These are powerful men--doctors, CEOs, lawyers, senators, and I’m just some silly girl whose problems have led her here. But they don’t need to know that. No one needs to know the reason I’m here.

I'm searching for a man of power to take control of me. To help me take control of my past. That’s exactly what I need.

A dark feeling presses down on my chest as horrible images flash in front of my eyes. I do my best to push them away. I don’t want to think about it. I came here to heal this darkness. This is going to help me. I know it will. I need this.

“How many of these men did you say work in government?” I whisper to Carla as Bruce leads us along, tearing my eyes away from those dangerous masked gazes and thinking of anything I can to ignore the stir of anxiety in my belly. Of all the men that Carla claims are members of the club, none seem more taboo than the ones holding public office. The risk of scandal is more substantial with these men, and I’m sure it makes the thrill of being with them all the greater.

“I’m not sure,” Carla replies out of the side of her mouth, and I have to strain my ears to hear. “Just remember, the person that becomes your Dom could be anyone. A CEO, doctor, lawyer, governor, congressman, senator-”

“Even the president?” I interrupt. It’s partly a joke, but the humor isn’t evident in my voice. Mostly because of my nerves.

Carla pauses as if shocked, then shakes her head and chuckles softly. “No... at least…” a look of uncertainty comes over her face and she concludes, “I don’t think so.”

If the President of the United States is a member of Club X, I think to myself, then this entire country is going straight to hell.

I have no idea who's going to buy me. Every fucking time I signed a piece of paper to be included in the auction tonight, it nearly made me sick. I'm so anxious and worried. Anyone can buy me. At the same time, it's exhilarating. The only thing that keeps me from freaking the fuck out is knowing that all of my preferences, my hard and soft limits—meaning things I will not do and things I might try—are all in the contract. The contract itself was sixty pages long. Every possible detail and interaction between the buyer and submissive was included. And it must all be followed to the letter as to what my preferences are. The club is strict about filling out all the paperwork Madam Lynn emailed me. Plus, talking to her and Carla gives me faith that this is going to be the fantasy that I want and not some fucked up horror flick.

“Here’s the Sex and Submission store,” Carla says, gesturing as Bruce stops us in front of an opening into a large room along the wall. Inside, there are rows of shelves filled with all sorts of sex toys and BDSM devices. There are dildos, whips, chains, ropes, nipple clamps, elegant butt plugs and every kind of sexual toy you could imagine. I watch as several Doms walk around with their chained Subs, picking out their toys of choice to be used on them later. “Obviously, you’ll be making stops here in the future. Just don’t get too carried away.” There’s humor in her voice and I appreciate it, although I still feel muted in my excitement. My inexperience in this new environment is making me tense, and I feel overly self-conscious.

We continue on the tour and Bruce leads us upstairs through a long hallway filled with rooms on either side. Like the floor below, the hall is filled with opulence, with the same lush carpeting, beautiful painted walls, luxury furniture and upscale art pieces.

As we pass each room, I can faintly hear the sounds of smacking flesh and pleasured cries through the thick, fancy doors.

“Here are the private apartments,” Bruce says as Carla stops, indicating a door off to the right. “This is where... well, you can pretty much guess what goes on. These are safe places for the Dom and his Sub and where they can get to know each other's limits in private.”

There are men in dark suits lining the hallway, and they look like they mean business with their dark glasses and buzz cuts. It’s obvious they're here to make sure no one violates the rules.

As we move through the hallway, I hear more sounds of debauchery that make my pussy clench on air; the crack of a whip followed by a soft cry, and then more noises of smacking flesh as if a man’s low-hanging balls are smacking up against a wet pussy.

I want to be in there, I think to myself, my mind racing with base thoughts. Being dominated. My body tingles with anxiety and heated anticipation. I take in a staggered breath. Soon. I swallow thickly as my palms start to grow damp with perspiration. It’s overwhelming.

We reach the end of the hallway and then Bruce leads us down the steps into another corridor that lets out into a large room filled with Doms and Subs who are in the act of role-playing and even having all-out sex.

“This is the playroom,” Bruce says, nodding at the scene in front of us.

I hardly hear him. My eyes are on a Sub who's on her knees, being face fucked by a muscled, ripped, naked stud in a mask. He thrusts forward, forcing her to take all of his big cock to the ball sack, then he throws his head back, groaning with absolute pleasure.

Fuck, I say to myself as my pussy clenches repeatedly and my nipples stiffen like stone, that’s so fucking hot.

That dark act of being forced is what turns me on. It’s what I crave above all else. It used to shame me to my core, but now it’s the only way I can get off.

My breathing comes out in pants as I watch, imagining being taken by force by someone like this masked man.

“We should go back now,” Bruce informs me quietly, turning to me. He watches me with a keen eye, taking in my flushed cheeks and heavy breathing, and an amused smile touches the corner of his lips. “I’m ready to eat.”

I take deep, full breaths to calm my racing pulse and say nothing as Bruce leads us back to the dining room and to an empty table near the giant stage. As I take my seat, I notice several masked men’s eyes on me, staring me down as if they know I’ll be up for auction soon. My cheeks burn at their gazes, almost wishing one of them would come take me and relieve my throbbing pussy, but I ignore them. I know I’m not supposed to look at them unless they tell me to. Yet I feel that some of them sense the desire that burns in me, the need to be dominated. I wonder if it’s attracting them, like a moth to a flame.

A wave of anxiety washes over me. What if it’s one of these very men looking at me who buys me tonight? Will I be good enough for them? I'm sure that most of them are used to trained Submissives, but I'm new. I'll need to be taught, and I’ll have to learn how to properly behave.

Total surrender is all I need, I tell myself. The wants and needs of my Dom will be my wants and needs. His wishes are my command.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when a waitress dressed in a black uniform comes up with a gold-plated menu and sets it down in front of me and then looks at us expectantly. Bruce speaks first. “A dirty harry for my Carla,” he says smoothly, “and a shot of whiskey for me.” She nods, and turns to look at me.

“Just a water please,” I say, swallowing thickly. My nerves are getting the best of me. My hands are shaking. Soon I’ll be up for auction, and then I’ll be owned by someone. A stranger. I should drink to calm down, but I need my wits.

Carla waves away my concern. “You’re fine. You’re going to love this.”

That should soothe me, but it doesn’t. She has no idea why I’m on edge. Well maybe she has an inkling about part of it, but she doesn't know the real reason that I want this. I can’t shake my negative feelings. Even when we order our food and start eating, premium steak on a bed of wild rice pilaf, I feel anxious. I’m timid about how I’m going to go through with tonight. And actually, I’m fucking terrified. I’m new to all this, and as exciting and alluring as Club X seems, I’m not sure if I’m totally cut out to be a Sub, let alone being one for an entire month. I mean, what would happen, God forbid, if halfway through my contract, I decide that I can’t take it anymore and want out?

But I can’t, I tell myself. More than the money, I need a Dom who’s going to force me to face my fears. A Dom who’s going to heal me, so I can move on with my life. My blood cools, and I close my eyes. With everything in me, I know that I need this.