Safeword (The Decadence Club Book 3)

by Alyssa Clark

  “To find out what is behind that door requires an invitation,” a familiar voice rang out from behind me. I tensed and turned to see a woman in the main room of the club, leaning against the bar. “Or if you wanted to rent it then it would require you to pay a hefty rental fee.”

  “Y-you must be Ms. Winters.” I tried to feign confidence but knew immediately that I didn’t pull it off.

  Her full lips pulled up to one side, and she tilted her head at me as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of me. But, still, she offered me a hand and stepped towards me. “And you are Charlotte Atkins.”

  I took a breath before I took her hand and I shook it mechanically. I felt my awkwardness rearing forward. “Yes, ma’am, thank you so much for agreeing to meet me today.” My voice cracked as I spoke and I found myself grateful that at least I wasn’t stuttering. I guess reverting to a twelve-year-old boy was okay.

  It was understandable, the woman before me was so utterly beautiful that it felt like she should be offended just by having to shake my hand. I was so out of place. She didn’t look, she just gave me a sort of one-sided smile and gestured toward the bar. She got up on one stool and looked at me expectantly.

  “You’re a member of my club?” She asked, looking doubtful. “And you’ve been here before?”

  I hesitated because it was obvious she saw me for what I was, and she probably doubted I was capable of doing any sort of factual review of what her club had to offer. I swallowed. She probably doubted that I had a membership. “Yes,” I started shakily. “I had my first visit here a couple of weeks ago.”

  One of her sleek, well-manicured brows rose. “And how did you find out about my club?”

  “My friend did, Elizabeth Marron,” I said after a beat. There wasn’t a reason to hide the truth. Hopefully, I wouldn’t ruin Liz’s reputation at the club by this visit. “She found a thread on 4chan about… uh… well,” I grimaced as I recalled the subject matter of the thread. “Unconventional…” I stalled as I thought about a good word for it.

  “Sex?” she supplied for me.

  “I guess that’s what it was about,” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “If you’re familiar with 4chan at all, it's got a reputation for all things uh… ‘unconventional.’”

  “Is that where ‘Two Girls One Cup’ originated from?” At least she looked queasy when she asked that, that gave me a little bit of relief.

  “Honestly, I don’t know, and I hope to never have to find out.” I mushed up my hair a little as I started to run a hand through it. Fidgeting was a habit that occurred while I was nervous in front of people I didn’t know. I did it all the time. “I’d like to say I didn’t know what 'Two Girls One Cup’ was.”

  She chuckled lightly, looking amused. “I’m sure the rest of the world would agree with you. Now,” she waved a hand at me and looked less doubtful, more serious, “let us not distract ourselves from the reason you’re here. You want to write a series of articles for your website?”

  “Not my website,” I corrected uneasily, still fidgeting with my hair. “I work for Gossip Catalog. It’s a series of websites that involves articles from anything to celebrities, to trends, to politics on bad days.”

  “I can’t say I’m familiar with it.” She pursed her lips. I expected her to pull out a device to look it up, but she kept her attention on me. “You think ‘unconventional’ sex and a club that would service that would be something that would be worth reading?”

  “Well, with the trend in novels and movies involving BDSM and other fetishes,” I spoke slowly, trying to think on my feet. I didn’t get drilled like this by Simon, and I didn't expect it from Ms. Winters, so I felt unprepared. “I think having a series of articles might help people make informed decisions on whether or not they should experiment in them.”

  “And you consider yourself an expert?” Her tone of voice didn’t hide uncertainty. She didn’t sound like she was trying to offend me, I didn’t take it that way. I knew what I looked like.

  “Not at all.” I decided to stop tangling my hair, and I pulled out a folder I had hastily shoved into my messenger bag. I wished I had a briefcase or something, but I didn’t make the big bucks like Liz did. “I was thinking I would take the angle of the storytelling from the view of a person stepping into it.” I offered the folder to her. “Like the view of a noob starting out. I have the one experience I had here…” my voice did an embarrassing tremble as I spoke and I clenched my eyes closed as I waited for her to take the folder from me. “And I thought I’d build from that.”

  I could feel Ms. Winter’s eyes on my face even though I still had my eyes closed. I wished the floor would open up to swallow me and all my awkwardness. It wasn’t going to, there wasn’t anything that was going to save me from this moment. I just hoped that she would be nice enough to let me down easy when she decided she wasn’t going to let me do this.

  Hopefully, Simon wouldn’t fire me.

  “You have another week before your membership will need to be renewed, Ms. Atkins,” she took the folder from me as she spoke. “Did you intend to make another visit before letting your membership lapse? Or were you intending to just write from the one experience you had?”

  I swallowed hard and looked at her now. “That was my plan, the latter that is.”

  She hummed, and I watched as she opened up the folder. I felt relieved when she put her attention there, it looked like she was actually reading it. I waited for her judgment with a sinking feeling in my gut. She turned a page, and her brows drew downward.

  “With this outline,” she spoke slowly. “It sounds as if you have a good plan and I wouldn’t mind reading it myself, assuming you can execute it well. My one problem is you assume that you can tell the story well enough from one visit.” She looked up at me, and I saw skepticism there. “What did you experience when you were here last?”

  My mouth went dry. How was I supposed to tell her what happened? I looked away, searching the room for something to focus on so I could figure out the words for it. The plush carpet and the tan walls didn’t give me anything, neither did the art. That’s when I noticed the posters on the walls, ‘The safe word is Red.’

  I’m an idiot.

  That’s why everyone was talking about red. I didn’t know what a safe word was, but I knew if I had some sort of knowledge about what it was my experience probably would have different.

  “I was hoping,” I decided I didn’t want to answer her question, “that I would base it around Ms. Marron’s visits.”

  Ms. Winters made a noise of displeasure, and I glanced at her as she put the folder on the bartop. “I suppose that is an option for you. Now,” her eyes narrowed, and it felt like I was being forced into a corner, even though neither of us moved, “answer my question.”

  There was no arguing with that tone. I was uncomfortable just meeting her gaze. I looked away, down at the carpet. “I was tied up.” I hoped she didn’t want to the details. “And uh… a man I didn’t know had sex with me.”

  It was clear from her expression I didn’t describe it right. Her mouth was pinched upward, and her eyebrows were down. She was looking at me like she was trying to picture me in any sort of sexual position and failing. Maybe she thought I made it up?

  “You didn’t enjoy it,” she said after a beat.

  I blinked because I didn’t think that I said that. I didn’t say that. I shook my head at her, and I tried to think of the best way to explain my thoughts on how I felt about what happened. “It… it was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I admitted, surprised that I did. “But,” I shrugged helplessly, “I don’t have much to go on from that, and I was so ignorant about what was going on.” I shook my head again. “I don’t know what to say about it.”

  “Did you use the safe word?” Ms. Winters asked.

  “She didn’t,” a man stood in the doorway of the club. He was dressed in a gray suit with a light blue button down. He had black hair cut short with just enough on top to be styled, right now
it looked messy as if he’d had his hands in it all day. What stood out the most was his eyes, the suit seemed to just emphasize their color all the more. They almost looked silver.

  “Mr. Reed.” She looked irritated and startled, I felt that, but I was also relieved that I wasn’t on the receiving end of that glare she was giving him. “How would you know whether or not she used the safe word?”

  My dry mouth dropped open. I think I heard it hit the floor. I guess they did, too, because they both looked back at me.

  “I was there.” His voice sounded a little strained, but there was no denying it. It wasn’t the deep growl of sexy words, but it was still him. He shrugged a little. “Wesley tied her up. I heard him remind her of it. She didn’t say it once.”

  “Did you come here together?” There was doubt in Ms. Winters’ voice now, and I looked at her, my head shaking.

  I didn’t have words to answer her.

  “That was the first time I’d met her.” He stayed at the door, leaning against the frame. “I told her to come back.” His voice deepened and damn me, like Pavlov’s dog my body reacted. “But this is the first time I’ve seen her in two weeks.”

  “Is this why you’re here then, Mr. Reed?” There was something in her tone that made me feel like I had to get it together. I sat up a little straighter and looked back at her, giving her my full attention and trying to not focus on the man in the doorway.

  I’d say his name, I’d think it. But I was a little afraid of what might happen if I did. I doubted it would induce an orgasm, but I didn’t think I would be able to sit still from the wetness that was likely to occur.

  “Easton invited me.” From his tone, it didn’t sound like he was affected by the demand in Ms. Winters’ voice. “He was arranging a moment with his girlfriend, and he said she liked to be watched. I’m not above watching.”

  There was so much more here going on than I knew about.

  He liked to watch?

  “This is a private conversation between Ms. Atkins and me.” Her voice was hard as she spoke. “I don’t appreciate you stepping into it. If you’re here at Mr. Davis’s invitation, then I suggest that you find your way back to the auditorium.”

  “You were talking about something I was involved in.” His voice hardened to match her tone. I was surprised that he didn’t buckle in the face of Ms. Winters’ disapproval. I felt like I wanted to crawl away, but it wasn’t aimed at me. “I have the right to defend myself, don’t I?”

  “Of course you do.” She didn’t look like she was impressed as she spoke to him. “But I would rather speak to Ms. Atkins alone like I thought I was doing. If there’s an issue, then I’ll be in contact with you.”

  Mr. Reed’s expression was just as imposing as hers, but he nodded and walked to the same door I’d seen the other man walk in. I watched curiously as he jerked the door open, then gave the two of us a dark look before he disappeared into it.

  How the hell do I react to that? Is there an appropriate way to go about this? I doubted there was etiquette to this.

  Fortunately, the woman before me wasn’t ruffled in the least from what I could tell. She took a breath and released it slowly, any imperfections from our interrupted conversation was smoothed away.

  “I’m sorry.” She smiled prettily at me. “Where were we?”

  “You allowing me to do an exposé on your club.” I smiled at her hopefully as I said it.

  Her lips twitched, and she folded her arms over her chest. “Allowing another person to do your ‘research’ isn’t going to supply you with a series that will be adequate for me.” She turned her attention from me, going back to the folder I had supplied her with. “Was it so un-enjoyable that you don’t want to make another visit?”

  I felt my face grow hot and I tried my best not to think of that night. It was probably the only reason why I hadn’t gone full freak out mode. I still had my work face on, that was my excuse anyway.

  I’d freak later after I got her approval to write about her club.

  When I don’t answer her expression showed what looked like real concern. “Don’t feel bullied into thinking you did something wrong. If you didn’t enjoy yourself, I want you to speak up.”

  Now I was floundering, she wasn’t going to skip back to my reason for being here. Instead, we were right back at my last visit. The interruption didn’t distract her from it all. So, my brain decided to short circuit as it struggled to figure out an answer. “I don’t know what a safeword is,” I blurted out. “That’s why I didn’t use it.”

  She blinked at me, just sat there with a blank expression and blinked. I didn’t know if she was trying to figure me out or not. Maybe she was wondering if I really was that stupid. “After all of this, you still haven’t figured it out?”

  And here I go confirming my stupidity by shaking my head.

  “The safeword is a signal for all activity to stop,” she explained slowly. “If you’re ignorant as to what my club offers, why would you purchase a membership?” She looked like she didn’t know what to think of me.

  I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t want to tell her my friend forced me to. That might lead down a different series of questions that I wasn’t ready to answer. So, I looked away from her and twisted my hands together as I tried to figure out a suitable lie. Only, I’m a terrible liar.

  “Curiosity?” I squeaked out.

  Why else did anyone go to a club like this?

  Her brows shot up, and she looked skeptical. “Right.” She sniffed lightly before she looked back at the folder. “You have the right demeanor of a submissive. Though I’m betting you’re probably too squeamish to actually follow through anything that might go on here. It would probably be in your best interest to stick to what’s tame.” She paused to give me a hard look, “Telling a story about what you’re supposed to be experiencing, but someone else is doing it seems to be like a lie.”

  “Writers do it all the time,” I spoke up. Because really, half the articles Gossip Catalogue published were just recycled and reworded crap. Anything to get a view or a share, anything to get advertising dollars. “Real stories are rare, getting a true one to go viral is even rarer.”

  “This,” she tapped the folder as she spoke, “is the option I am going to give you. If you want to write about my club, about your experiences here, you’re going to write it from your point of view. Put in educational points in it, for example, define what a safe word is and the reason behind its importance. The number of details of each experience isn’t important to me, but if there’s anything negative I want to be told about it before you even think about publishing. Understood?”

  My heart was pounding in my chest at hyper speed. She was giving me what I wanted. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

  She stood up and motioned for me to follow, then she went to the door Mr. Reed had gone into. “I have a man that is likely to be a better stepping stone into this. Of course, he has to agree to it. Mr. Davis is still learning the ropes of being a dominant, but I think he could handle a second sub. Especially one that isn’t going to be a full time.”

  She led the way into the dark hallway, and I was almost too afraid to follow. I was damn sure to afraid to protest going in there. Maybe she knew that? The whole dominant and submissive talk had my attention though. I was filing it away to look up later, her advice about putting what I learned in the article was a good one, and I was determined to stick with it.

  I just wish I had a notebook with me to jot down ideas.

  When I saw the first window, I got confused about just where we were going. I quickly realized that they peaked into rooms. I stopped at the second to verify that I wasn’t losing my mind. I saw what looked like a stockade but padded. Of course, there wasn’t anyone in it, but it wasn’t hard to see that this was similar to the room I had been in.

  “You watch what people do in there?” I was surprised it came out of me, but I didn’t bother to try to follow her.

  That means someone watched me with…
with Michael?

  “No,” her voice was firm, and I didn’t even bother to look at her. “The rooms are monitored to make sure nothing goes on that shouldn’t. No one stands there and just watches what goes on, but it’s an easy way to check on everyone without actually interrupting.”

  “How do you know?” I sounded slightly accusatory even to myself. “Are you watching the rooms?”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted as if it were nothing. She just stood close enough where I could make out her form from the shadows of the darkened hallway. “My bouncers take turns doing circuits of it. They’re dominants, well one enjoys switching roles. They’re familiar with the aspects of what is safe and healthy. I trust them to look without taking perverse enjoyment from it.”

  I hardly understood what she was talking about, but I nodded anyway. She didn’t seem concerned about my worries, and she left me standing there. I gave the stockade one last look before I hurried to follow her. The only light shining into the hallway was from windows, so it was like being in a dark room with just the television on.