by Alyssa Clark
It made sense, curiosity said. The last time was so good, so good. Any chance you have with him can only get better.
That thought is what led me to hand my phone to him. He took it without taking his eyes off of me, and I didn’t know how I should feel. There was something to being with someone I knew, or at least had been with before, right?
He took his time with my phone, typing at it. There a small chime and his smile curled into a smirk before he handed it back to me.
“Now that we have taken care of that, how about we take this somewhere a little more private. Unless you like to be watched, too?” He had looked me over as he spoke, standing so close that I could smell his cologne. I couldn’t put a name to the scent I could only assume it was something expensive.
I couldn’t look up to him, I couldn’t think to answer either. My heart was pounding in my ears so loud that I couldn’t formulate thoughts around the sound. I didn’t expect things to go so fast.
My face felt hot, and I started to feel dizzy. Was I forgetting to breathe?
“No.” Ms. Winters’ voice cut through my panic. “You’re only allowed access to the rooms and their equipment during club hours.” I looked to her, hoping she would see my gratitude on my face. She hadn’t turned to us the entire time. She still faced the stage, watching now as the beating had indeed turned sexual. Mr. Davis was between the woman’s spread legs, I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but she seemed to be enjoying it.
“The club opens in an hour.” The irritation was obvious in Mr. Reed's voice, and I didn’t dare look up. Instead, I fixated on the point where his hands were folded now in front of him just at his waist. It was like he was trying to project a certain demeanor. Maybe it was intimidation, but Ms. Winters didn’t seem to be affected at all. “Why can’t I take advantage of the empty rooms?”
“Because,” she didn’t look at him, her expression though showed just how irritated she was at the line of questioning, “the club is not open, yet, and you are here on the invitation of Mr. Davis to watch the scene he and his sub have created.” She paused and turned to me, “Before you engage into anything further with Mr. Reed, I suggest you go home and do research. You weren’t aware of what a safeword was before, perhaps it's best that you find out. You may also want to consider your limits, what you are and are not willing to experiment in so you can educate Mr. Reed on them. That way nothing unfortunate happens.”
I blinked rapidly, mostly because I didn’t think that far ahead. I could only assume what she meant by something ‘unfortunate’ happening. “I-I’ll do that.” I clenched my hand around my phone and picked up my bag. “Thank you.” I felt uneasy as I stood, it took all my effort to not look up at the mentioned scene. “I really appreciate this opportunity.” Something in me tightened up, I felt like I needed to keep thanking her, but the words got caught up in my throat.
All I got was a nod in response, and Mr. Reed cleared his throat. “I will be here tonight.” His voice was firm, and when I looked up at his face, I could see expectation looking back at me. “You’re not going to dodge me anymore.” He gestured to his phone. “I will see you after the club opens.” There was a side-eyed glare sent at Ms. Winters with that comment.
I swallowed hard and nodded my agreement, there wasn’t any way I could get out of it now. Avoidance wasn’t going to save me if I wanted to get out of editing. So, I took my things and hurried out of the room, trying my best not to give the stage another look. Especially after the buzzing started.
9
By the time I got home, it was closer to seven. My phone was strangely quiet. I didn’t know what I expected, but I thought maybe there’d be a message waiting for me from Mr. Reed. I was trying my best to avoid looking at it. I don’t know why, but just the thought that he had touched it and the idea of what he wanted to do to me, again, had my heart racing.
Instead, I focused on the suggestion that Ms. Winters had given me. The first thing I did was look up what a safeword was. I knew the one used at the club was Red, and now I felt frustrated with myself that I hadn’t realized it. They had told it to me over and over, and it still went over my head.
I’m such an idiot.
I was halfway through a page before I decided to give Liz a call. There was so much more to this than I was prepared to take in. Fortunately for me, Liz was quick to answer.
“You didn’t chicken out?” It was a question she worded into a statement. Almost an accusation.
That’s what she expected me to do. This was my friend.
I tried not to let myself get sad about that.
“I didn’t.” I took a deep breath and eyed an article that came with pictures of a girl that was much better looking than I was and was tied up with things that somehow only left her face uncovered. Even then her mouth was held wide open, and there were tears streaked down her face.
People were into this. Did he expect me to do this?
A sigh distracted me from my perusal. “Thank God,” she said. I don’t know why she was relieved. “I thought you were going to blow it because you usually suck when it comes to meeting new people.”
“I don’t know if I should be insulted by your lack of confidence or just sad that you know me that well,” I whimpered and flopped back onto my bed. “I’m still trying to figure out how I managed to let myself get talked into this.”
“I have the answer to that.” She paused for a moment, it sounded like she was busy. “But I don’t want to tell it to you because you don’t need any hits to your self-esteem.” There was another pause, and then something clattered down onto what sounded like a counter. “I’m going to be headed to the club tonight if you’d like to join me?”
I hesitated because I hadn’t told her anything about the agreement with Ms. Winters or Mr. Reed. I still couldn’t even bring myself to say his first name for crying out loud, much less think it. “I uh…” I fidgeted with the button of the blouse I was wearing, staring up at the popcorn texturing that was on my ceiling. “I’ll be there.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. “I didn’t think I would be able to get you to go again, especially after you refused to talk about the last time we were there. I still want to know what happened.” She was wheedling. “What’s getting you to go this time?”
“She wasn’t satisfied with the idea of me writing off of your experiences,” I admitted, I was going to ignore her attempt to get me to fess up.
“That’s what you were planning on doing?” She didn’t sound happy about it. “What I’m into is probably not the same kind of shit you’d be into. I don’t know that I would want to tell you about the details of what I get into when I go to the club.”
“But you want me to tell you about what I did?”
“You’re wanting to write out mine,” she shot back quickly.
“And it was your idea for me to write out my own? Do you really think I’m capable of doing that?” Overthinking quickly took hold of me, and I sat up. “My mom is going to read this article. Oh my GOD! My Grandma! They’re going to read this article and know I did these things!” The panic attack started to spiral out almost immediately. I continued to babble senselessly about everything that would happen with me writing this series and just how it would actually ruin my life. “I-I gotta email Simon! I can’t do this!”
“Stop,” Liz damn near bellowed into my ear. “You’re not going to do that! You submitted it under a pen name.”
“B-but--”
“No.” Her voice was like a bark, deep and threatening. “You’re going to do this, and you’re going to get the hell out of editing. You’re a good writer, Charlie. You have so much potential. And Simon’s the kind of dick that would just let you squander away without taking advantage of your talent.” She paused for a breath, and I could hear her setting something down in the background. “If you’re afraid of what your family will think then don’t tell them about it, what they don’t know won’t hurt you. If it makes you feel better all the while you’r
e doing this pretend you’re someone else. Your mom or your Grandma don’t need to know about any of what’s going on.”
That… that was brilliant. Liz just went from being my least favorite person back to being the best friend I’d ever had. “Why didn’t you suggest this before? The pretending to be someone else bit.”
“Um…” She paused then hummed. “Honestly, I don’t know it just came to me. So, are you going to be hitching a ride with me to the club?”
I considered it, really because I could draw some comfort from Liz even if this was all her fault. But I thought better of it, while she might not like the idea of talking about what she did at the club it wouldn’t keep her from trying to grill me about my experiences. I, also, couldn’t forget my need to escape the club the first time. I’d save myself cab fare if I just drove myself.
There was a good chance I wouldn’t be drinking.
“I think I’d rather drive,” I admitted to her after I finally made the decision.
“Oh,” her voice sounded small suddenly. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded first before I realized she wouldn’t be able to see it, there was an awkwardness between us now that was palpable. Even over the phone. “Uh, yea… Have a good night.” I didn’t wait for her response, and I hit end.
I wasn’t necessarily dodging her, not really. I know I had been the one to call her. It was more along the line of the fact that I didn’t know what to say to her. Especially when I knew where we both would end up in some way.
I knew I should make some sort of attempt to make an impression on Mr. Reed. Or maybe do some more research so I could at least see what he would expect of me. A lot of what I read so far had been between people that knew one another. And they knew what they wanted from the other person. I didn’t know what I wanted from this, aside from content.
There was a soft ping from my phone, signifying a text message. It could be from Liz. Her feelings might have been hurt by my treatment of her. Or it could be someone else.
I took a glance at the screen, it had faded black after I received the message. I grimaced and unlocked my phone. I’d have to open my messages now. There’d be no way for the person texting me to not know I’d see the message if I actively went looking for it. I could ignore it. I could leave myself another day to cope with the fact that I had willingly gone into the lion’s den, that I was sacrificing every anxiety hang up I had for something that I knew would feel good.
Even if there was still a lot of unknown to it.
My phone pinged again while I held it, this time I saw the message as it appeared. He’d given himself the name Master on my phone.
‘Thirty minutes late and counting… what kind of punishment would be suitable for making me wait, I wonder.’
Punishment?
I dropped my phone, and I didn’t even worry about the first message he sent me. I was up and off the bed in a flash. I didn’t know what to wear, but I knew better than to come in the outfit that I’d been wearing before. I ended up throwing every bit of ‘club wear’ out of my closet.
After half an hour I heard my phone ping again, and I grabbed the first thing from the pile on the floor without even looking at it. I was making him wait, and it was going to be worse for me. Fear had me wiggling into a shiny thing that Liz had bought me and running a brush through my hair.
I forgot makeup, but I hadn’t been wearing anything when I saw him earlier. I thought it would be okay. I grabbed my wallet and keys, tripped into a pair of sandals and hurried out the door. I usually thrived on being punctual so the fact I was being told that I was late, even though there was no specific time set, had me on edge.
I drove as fast as I thought I could get away with. Every time my phone pinged I jumped like it was a ticking time bomb. I didn’t even know if it was him messaging me or if it was someone else. Though there was really no doubt who it could be. I’d just gotten off the phone with Liz, I doubted Ms. Winters would be messaging me.
I pulled into the lot a good forty-five minutes late from the tale tell messages I’d been receiving. I couldn’t read them, I was afraid of what they might say. I was afraid to see animosity. Or maybe rejection. Though, I couldn’t figure out why the latter would bother me.
I got to the club door and beat on it with a little more force than I intended. The bouncer that opened it only gave me a narrow look, at least it wasn’t the shirtless guy from earlier. “ID,” he said with a sniff of irritation.
I had it out and clenched in my fist when I offered it to him. He gave it a glance, murmured my name into the little earpiece that hung from one ear. Once he got the approval, he stepped aside and growled at me, “Safeword is red.”
Good thing I knew what a safeword was now. There was also a clear definition as to when to use it. If I wanted him to stop all I had to do was say that magic word. That was a little comforting.
I stepped into the club, the wall of muscle that was the bouncer hovered just behind. He didn’t follow me, he just seemed to shift back against the wall and glare back at the open room. There’d been no change since this afternoon, with the exception of the crowd. I couldn’t see the bar, and I could feel anxiety start to raise the hairs on the back of my arms.
What did I do from here? Where did I go?
I shouldn’t go to the hallway, I knew that much. I was being expected, but I still hadn’t bothered to look at my phone. So, I decided the bar was the safest bet. If I was being looked for the easiest place to find me would be the bar. That was my logic anyhow.
I weaved carefully through the small crowd, getting a look here in there. The bothersome part was I couldn’t decipher the looks I got. I met the gaze of another woman, her dark brown eyes went up and down me. Then they looked appreciative. I felt confused, and I guess my lack of response was disappointing to her because she pursed her lips at me and looked as if she were giving me an air kiss before she walked away.
D-did I just get hit on by a girl?
I stumbled the rest of the way to bar, not sure how I felt about that. I stood in front of a stool as I tried to confuse my way through that. I wasn’t offended, I just didn’t know how to feel. That’s not something that had ever happened to me, but I found myself looking over a shoulder and through the crowd until I could find her again. Did she like what she saw? Did someone find me attractive?
Was that even possible?
“I do not,” his voice cut through my thoughts like a knife, “appreciate being ignored.” Mr. Reed had snuck up on me while I was contemplating my feelings being hit on. I looked at him, and I was struck by just how handsome he was. His gray eyes were narrowed at me, and his expression was twisted to show the obvious displeasure he felt with me. “Now, I need a good explanation as to why.” He paused as he spoke, taking the time to look me up and down pointedly. “Why would you not message me back?”
“I…” I was caught off guard, and I didn’t readily have an answer, but I figured that it would be obvious. “After I got your first message I started getting ready to come here. You didn’t say what time you expected me.” I shrugged helplessly. “I was told to do research before I came back and that’s what you caught me in the middle of.” I rubbed at one arm as I spoke, hoping that he would see the sound reasoning I was giving him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reed.”
His lips twisted and he looked away, clearly unimpressed. “And what did you find out with your ‘research’?”
“I figured out what a safeword was and when I’m supposed to use it.” I looked away from him as I detailed my findings. “I see what I did wrong during our first meeting.”
“Do you intend to use it now?”
I tried to refrain from looking at him again, there was a certain type of pressure I felt standing close to him. I was sure to an outsider it would just look like we were having a regular conversation and nothing more.
My breath caught in my throat. If I said it now, I could end the night now. I could go home, and I could get in the safety
of my comfort zone. I wouldn’t have to choke on the fear of what he might do to me. I wouldn’t have to face any humiliation of how he would look at me when my clothes came off. I would be able to feel anything resembling the first visit I had to this club.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, I wanted that again. Even with the anxiety of not knowing what was going to happen and the aftermath of dealing with it. It would be so easy to walk away from this, it would be so easy to walk away from the series.
“I don’t want you to hurt me,” I admitted.
Mr. Reed took a step closer to me, and I felt his hand brush against my cheek, everything seemed to be electrified just by that simple touch. “What makes you think it would hurt?”
I took a breath, trying not to let his closeness affect me. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” I took a shuddered breath as I tried to steady myself.
“It’s about more than just that.” He took my hand and before I could say anything else he tugged me into the direction of the hallway.
