by Amy Valenti
But what would she do if she got in? Expose the nasty truth? There probably was some illegal stuff going on in a place like that, right?
She had a whole week to think about it.
Chapter 2
Exactly seven days after Amy and Robin sent the email, a reply came back.
Your letter of recommendation has been received and approved. Please attend the Friday night session beginning at 10 pm. Dress accordingly. The code is pamplemousse.
-J
"Robin!" Amy yelled. She caught herself and lowered her voice, moving closer to her neighbor. "Robin, it worked!"
"What worked?"
"The letter, I'm in! I'm into The Sanctuary!"
A smile spread across Robin's face.
"That's great! So what are you going to do now?"
Amy was silent. Well, she hadn't quite figured it out yet.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't know? You have to do research! Just because it's about sex doesn't make it different from any other story," Robin said. "If you walk up in there without a clue, you'll be totally busted."
She was right. Amy realized this wasn't just a game anymore. This was serious. But she didn't want to bring the story to her editor just yet, so she started to research on the side. With only two days left, Amy needed a crash course.
She spent the rest of the day looking up anything and everything she could find about BDSM and sex clubs. Most of what Amy found were sex blogs and fanfics, things like pictures of grannies and grandpas going at it with whips and chains.
Was that what these things were about?
Every time a coworker walked by, Amy pretended to be typing up her next big story. Which wasn't a lie, because she actually was. It just wasn't what they thought. Anyway, Amy became a window minimizing ninja.
She watched movies with women in latex horse outfits moaning against crops. Amy listened through her headphones.
"Ooh, yes. Hurt me more," they said. "I love the way you discipline me, Master."
But their "masters" just seemed like flabby assholes who enjoyed spanking women. At least to Amy. The women all had black hair and blood red lips. They were all thin, with big boobs, and no bodily hair to speak of.
Amy wondered what was wrong with them that they wanted to be hurt so badly. The idea sounded good, so she scribbled it in her notebook: "The secret pain behind BDSM sex addiction." Perfect. Yes, this article was going to save her job.
Even after work, Amy studied. There was no one watching, so she was more brazen than before. Amy curled up in her bed with her laptop, munching on chips as she searched for things that would normally make her blush.
After a couple of hours, Amy was drowsy. The images of crops, paddles, and corsets blended together in her mind. She knew it was time to sleep when she came across a video of a woman stepping on a man's dick with spiky shoes.
What was that about?
As she snuggled into bed, Amy was already thinking about the next day.
The next morning, she rushed over to Robin.
"Robin, you gotta to help me!" she said. Amy put her hands together to beg. "I can't go by myself."
"What? Go where? If you mean to that club, I'm not…"
" No, no, I mean I have to get into character."
When Robin looked at her blankly, Amy continued.
"You know, I have to get the costume."
Slowly, a smile crept to Robin's lips.
"Just tell me when and where."
Amy scribbled the address on a piece of paper and slid it over to Robin's desk. Now all that was left was to wait until work was over. Every time Amy checked the clock, expecting an hour to have passed, only a few minutes had gone by. She tried to get some work done on another project, but she just couldn't concentrate. It was no good.
She watched as another of her coworkers packed up their desk. It was funny how all those papers, folders, and pictures could fit into a tiny little box. And on top of everything else, was the official notice.
Amy was sure it would say something like:
We regret to inform you that your position has been terminated from our paper. Thank you for your years of service. Any belongings which are left behind will be disposed of immediately.
Sincerely,
HR
Just thinking about it made Amy even more eager for the afternoon to come. When it finally did, she felt like she had been holding her breath all day. It's tough keeping a secret.
She went over to Robin.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Of course, I've been waiting for this all day."
Amy told Robin about her "research" on the way to the shop, but their enthusiasm faded as soon as they saw the entrance. Blacked out windows. No sign. Iron bars across the door. It didn't exactly look inviting.
Robin turned to Amy.
"Are you sure this is it?" she asked. "It looks like a hole in the wall."
Amy checked the GPS on her phone. The little red dot blinked right above where they were supposed to be. Amy took a deep breath and pushed the barred door open.
At first, it looked like nothing was there. The room was so dark that it seemed impossible for it to be a place of business. But then there was a voice.
"Can I help you? If you're looking for the jewelry store, it's two doors down."
It took a long time for Amy to realize that the saleswoman thought they were lost. They looked out of place. Of course. She threw her shoulders back and tried to act as if she belonged to this world.
"No, I wasn't looking for the jewelry store. I heard that this place has some really unique gear," Amy said. She looked at Robin. "Right?"
Robin hesitated for a moment, but then she got into character.
"Yeah, our friends who know everything about whips and chains recommended us here," she said. Right, totally believable.
The salesperson looked at them with her arms crossed. She cocked one eyebrow. Did she believe them?
"Are you guys…together?"
At the same moment, Robin and Amy sputtered.
"No, no, no! We're just good friends!"
They laughed nervously.
"Right," the saleswoman said. "Anyway, what do you want?"
Her red lips stayed in a permanently tight frown. Her nails were long and lacquered. Perfect, unlike Amy's half-chewed mess. She made a note: get nails done before going to the club.
"Oh," Amy said, "I wanted to get a whole outfit."
"An outfit?"
"Yeah, you know, an outfit. For BDSM stuff."
Robin interrupted before it became too obvious that they had no idea what they were talking about.
"She was thinking about getting a collar, some stilettos, a bustier, and maybe a whip. You know, if you have any that are interesting."
She had managed to say it with a completely straight face. The salesperson looked at Robin, and then looked at Amy again.
"Are you sure you're not together?"
After that, things went smoothly. Amy bought a studded collar that felt strange around her neck. She wasn't even used to wearing necklaces, so the skin there was sensitive to everything that touched it.
She bought heels that were higher than any she had ever worn before. They were certainly taller than Amy's usual kitten heels. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she had a moment of realization.
That's why people wear these things.
Her ass was pushed out, her legs looked long and taut, and she couldn't help but show off her breasts. Amy looked like an entirely different person, and she wasn't even done buying things yet.
The bustier topped things off, cinching in her curvy waist but flaring at her hips. Even Robin couldn't stop staring at her boobs once she had been all tucked in. The cups just nearly covered her nipples, and Amy felt like she was spilling out of them. Were girls like her supposed to dress like this? Were they even allowed to be a part of these super exclusive sex clubs?
Amy tried to push the thoughts aside.
But the
real coup de grace was the whip. Amy felt it in her hand, she knew it was the one. It hit her palm with a satisfying thwack. Looking at herself tapping it against her thigh, jutting one hip out as she balanced on the unsteady heels, it seemed like she could really do this.
"We'll take all of it!" Amy yelled.
Then she blushed and silently handed the salesperson her credit card. The big numbers flashing on the register only dampened her excitement a little.
Chapter 3
Friday morning Amy shoved her new outfit into a gym bag. Her heart thumped as she moved the flimsy things. Was she really going to do this? It seemed like such a good idea at first, but now is she really going to go there tonight? To a sex club?
Amy took a deep breath. What other choice did she have? People were getting cut left, right, and center. As one of the youngest in the department, no one would blink an eye if she were fired.
Breakfast was off the table. Amy was too nervous. It took all of her effort to keep her shaking hands steady while she drove to work.
The day seemed to take forever. Even talking to Robin over lunch didn't make it better. All Amy could keep thinking about was that evening. She couldn't keep her head on straight, and her editor even chewed her out when she turned in a subpar article. Her mind just wasn't in the words. It was somewhere else.
After rewriting the article, calling some contacts, and starting a new round of research, it was time to go. Amy drove over to Robin's place, and they got ready for her transformation.
"Nervous?" Robin asked.
"Why would you say that?" Amy said. She forced a small smile.
"Because I heard how Bouier ripped you a new one. That's not like you. You were always his favorite on the staff."
Amy's stomach churned.
"Yeah well. Everyone has off days."
Robin turned around. She had been busy making a frozen pizza so that Amy would have something on her stomach before going out to be whipped, spanked, or whatever they do in sex clubs.
She pointed a spatula at Amy.
"Look, just because you got yourself into a mess, doesn't mean you should be pissy with me. I'm on your side," she said. Robin turned back to the pizza and the oven. "As crazy as that is."
Amy looked down and dropped her head into her hands.
"Yeah, I know. Sorry," she said. "It's just..."
"Shhh…" Robin placed a shot of tequila in front of Amy. She placed the whole bottle next to it.
"Drink this. You'll need it."
Soon, Amy was full of confidence. Fueled by a stomach full of tequila and pizza, her doubts faded away. Amy downed a second shot and slammed the small glass on the table.
"Let's do this!" she yelled. "Let's get me all tarted up!"
Robin laughed. "I think you've had enough of this," she said and took the tequila away. "Okay, let's get this started."
Amy pulled her clothes out of the gym bag, and piece by piece, she pulled them on. Now it was Robin's turn. She pulled out a giant case of makeup.
"Welcome to my battle station," she said.
The box had types of makeup that Amy had never even heard of. Primer? Pore filler? 4D makeup? It seemed like Robin had gone through the whole box by the time she was done. Robin even did Amy's nails. Finally she brushed and smoothed Amy's long hair so that it laid smoothly over her shoulders.
Before she turned the chair around, Robin looked appreciatively at her work.
"Now, don't ever say I don't love you," she said and started to swirl the chair.
Amy stared at her reflection. Who was that? The girl in the mirror looked perfect. Her skin was even, her lips were plump, her hair wasn't flying all over the place. Amy wanted to cry but she didn't want her mascara to run.
"Robin!" Amy threw her hands around Robin's waist and squeezed.
"Hey, hey! If you smudge that foundation, I'll kill you," Robin said.
Then there was a beep in Amy's purse. It was her alarm. Time to go. She threw on a long coat and ran to the car. Amy didn't even have enough time to second-guess herself, because all she knew was that she couldn't be late.
When they finally made it to the driveway of The Sanctuary, Amy's heart began to race. It took a long time to reach the front, where a large man was standing. He looked completely uninterested in her as she stepped out of the car.
"Text me!" Robin yelled as she pulled out of the driveway. Then, just like that, Amy was on her own.
Chapter 4
"Hello, uh, I'm here for the meeting tonight?"
Amy looked at the man. He didn't look at her.
"Is this The Sanctuary? J sent me," Amy tried again.
This time, the man's eyes met hers.
"Code," he said.
"Pamplemousse?" Amy said. Thank goodness for her high school french.
"Keys," he said. He held out his hand. Amy dropped them in his palm.
"Coat."
Now Amy took off her coat, revealing the outfit she was wearing below. The man couldn't stop his reaction now. His eyes swept from the tips of her toes all the way up. He smiled. Was he amused, or did he approve? Either way, he said nothing and just took her coat.
He opened the door to the mansion and Amy walked in.
"Enjoy your night, Ms. Lopez," the man called.
The door was closed before Amy could ask how he knew her name. Now she was alone in the dark. In the distance, Amy could hear the faint thumping of music, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. She walked blindly forward in the dark.
With the combination of her tall heels and racing heart, this was no easy task, but soon the music got louder. She was headed in the right direction. There was another large, heavy door, and it opened in front of her.
The first thing Amy was hit with was the loud music. It felt like the speakers were vibrating the entire room. As she kept walking, her eyes adjusted to the dark and her ears were not so shocked by the volume of the music. That's when things got even stranger.
Now that she could see, Amy made out the dance floor. She had expected it to be filled with women like the ones in her videos, but everything was totally different. There were people of all shapes and sizes.
A short women with thick thighs was dancing with a tall muscular man. She had cellulite, but no one seemed to be gawking. No one said that she should cover herself up and leave. Next to that pair, an older looking man with a pudgy stomach rubbed his ass into the crotch of a skinny younger man. The younger man pushed his groin against the other man, and seemed to be quite enjoying himself.
That's when Amy realized she was probably overdressed. Sure some people were wearing head to toe latex, but others were dressed as if this was just another day at the mall. A few other women wore bustiers, but they had been partying long enough that their nipples peeked over the edge of their cups. They didn't mind, and Amy couldn't tear her eyes away.
At least they were clothed. Amy noticed a man with thick curly hair. He wore nothing but a hard, chubby, dick and a smile. Still, when he walked up to friends they threw their arms around his shoulders. Amy guessed that there probably was no dress restriction here.
"Hey," a girl called out to her.
She looked around Amy's age and she wore a suit jacket with her lacy underwear. She noticed Amy scoping her out.
"Look, I didn't have time to change after work," she said and struck a pose. Amy's eyes lingered on her flat, toned stomach. "You do what you can."
The girl gave Amy a once over and stuck out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Mimi. And you are obviously new here. What's with that get up?"
Amy folded her arms over her chest, which only pressed her boobs up further.
"I'm A…Shirley," she said. "Hi."
Amy looked down and away, hoping that Mimi would just walk away. Instead, she felt a hand lift her chin up.
"Well, aren't you the cutest little sub?" Mimi said.
"Sub? I'm not…"
"Sure, sure." Mimi waved away Amy's disagreement. "Of course you can be wha
tever you want to be. But before you can be anything, we've got to take care of this."
Before Amy could protest, Mimi got to work. She took off Amy's stilettos, grabbed her whip, and opened her bustier a step. Mimi dug her fingers into Amy's hair and shook, so that the long hair was in wild curls again.
Mimi took a step back, and did one final thing. She gently pulled the collar away from Amy's neck.
"Since you say you're not a sub, you shouldn't be wearing this. And if you were, you should never put it on yourself. That's your Dom's job."
"My Dom's job?" Amy asked.
"Yeah, silly. Now let's go dance!'
Mimi pulled Amy out onto the dance floor. At first, Mimi couldn't get her to move. She was barely moving her feet to the music. Then Mimi grabbed Amy and swung her around.
"Come on! Do you think anyone is staring at you? Just look at these guys!"
Now that she was on the floor, Amy could see things even more clearly. Some of these people weren't just dancing. She saw cocks bulging through pants. The thinnest bit of fabric was the only thing stopping it from being straight up sex on the dance floor.
Mimi was right. People were too busy getting it on to worry about her terrible dance moves. As Amy started to dance, her anxiety slipped away. She moved her hips, swinging her hair to the beat.
"That's it!" Mimi yelled.
Amy hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Even in college, she was anxious. All of the other girls were much prettier, so she couldn't relax at the club.
But now, Amy was just dancing. The music was so loud that it was pointless to speak, but they didn't need to anyway. Mimi and Amy danced with one another until Amy's forehead was covered in sweat.
She panted.
"I think I, I've got to go," she yelled into Mimi's ear.
"You don't have to leave yet!" Mimi yelled back over the music. "There are some rooms in the back. You can relax there!"
She pointed in the direction of another large, ornate door.
"Go rest!" Mimi said. "I'm going to stay here, but call me if you need anything!"
They hugged and Amy snaked through the grinding couples to leave the dance floor. It was amazing how quiet things were once she got out of there. Amy walked in the direction Mimi pointed out, but now that she was all alone the familiar anxiety returned.
