Highest Bidder Collection
Page 25
PRIVATE MESSAGE
Katty93: I’m happy to chat. But I do promise you the group is really supportive and judgment free.
Catlvr89: I’m trying to decide what I want in a partner. It’s difficult with my needs
I stare at the blunt answer I’ve given her, and I know it’s truthful at least.
Katty93: Oh! I see. Have you recently left a relationship?
Catlvr89: No, I haven’t had one for years.
Katty93: I haven’t either.
My heart thuds in my chest, and my brow furrows at her response. I was under the impression that she hadn't had a relationship since she'd been freed.
Catlvr89: How did your last relationship end?
Katty93: Horribly. I left... he was my abuser.
It’s odd to me that she would call what they had a relationship. Her mental records don’t show that she had Stockholm syndrome or any type of psychological problems other than the occasional night terror. Which seems reasonable.
Catlvr89: Did you love him?
Katty93: No. I hated him. But I was safe with him at least.
Catlvr89: Safe?
Katty93: I knew I wouldn’t die. I’m sorry if this is …dark. I didn’t mean to bring it up.
Catlvr89: I like talking. You can talk about whatever you’d like.
Katty93: Thank you. Let’s talk about you! Lol
Catlvr89: Lol I think I’m more comfortable talking about you if you don’t mind. …Unless you have questions for me.
Katty93: Oh! Well if that makes you more comfortable. We can talk about anything.
Catlvr89: Why do you call it a relationship? What you had with your abuser?
Katty93: Idk. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.
Catlvr89: Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I was just curious.
Katty93: I guess cause he’s the only …idk how to say it.
Catlvr89: Has he been your only sexual partner?
Katty93: No, he shared me.
Catlvr89: Outside of who he shared you with?
Katty93: Yes. I tried to have other relationships. It just doesn’t seem …idk. Like I don’t feel like …idk how to say it.
Catlvr89: Like they can handle you?
Katty93: I guess something like that.
Catlvr89: What can they not handle?
Katty93: I want to be submissive. I want to feel protected and cherished.
I stare at her answer and I’m filled with confusion, revulsion. Anger. He didn’t protect her. He didn’t cherish her. My fingers tap angrily on the keys, the loud clicks filling the room.
Catlvr89: You felt that way with your abuser?
Katty93: I pretended I did. It made it easier to live. I created this fantasy and it made it easier to survive I guess.
My heart hurts so badly for her upon hearing her confession.
Catlvr89: I’m so sorry.
Katty93: It’s fine.
Catlvr89: It’s not fine. I didn’t mean to bring up what happened.
I wait nervously for her response. I want to gauge just how affected she still is. What she went through is something that stays with a person for life. But what she makes of that life is her decision to make. I’m shocked she considers that a relationship. Or even thought of calling it that.
Catlvr89: So now you aren’t interested in a relationship?
Katty93: I want one, it’s just ...I tried other things. Normal relationships. It just didn’t work.
My lungs still. We’re so alike, yet so different.
Catlvr89: I’m the same way. I don’t want normal.
Katty93: What do you want?
I debate on answering her. But I don’t want to prime her responses.
Catlvr89: You first?
Katty93: LOL
Katty93: I’m weird I think.
Catlvr89: It’s okay. I’m weird too. We can be weird together.
My blood heats, and my dick stirs at her answer and the playfulness of the conversation. I feel as though I’m luring the kitten, my kitten, out to play.
Katty93: I think I like to be dominated.
Catlvr89: What’s weird about that?
Katty93: Like really dominated.
Catlvr89: Does it have something to do with what you went through?
I know it does, but I want to ask. The paperwork and her history, the fucking shrink report I looked up--all of that were other people’s opinions. I want to know what she thinks.
Katty93: It does kind of. In that he was my master.
Katty93: And now I want another.
I suck in a sharp breath and force my dick to calm the fuck down. Seeing her confess only solidifies what I want from her. I need to see her. I need to evaluate our chemistry.
Catlvr89: So you want a master? What do you want from him?
Katty93: It’s fucked up.
Catlvr89: I like fucked up. I want fucked up too.
Katty93: I want him to own me. I want to be a true slave to him, but I need my life too. I’ve been reading these stories. They seem too good to be true. A normal life, but with a M/s relationship. Maybe that’s why I want it. Idk. But there’s a club I’ve been looking into and I’m thinking about going. Just to check it out.
Catlvr89: Why not just do D/s?
Katty93: I don’t want a Dom. I want a Master. There’s a difference and I know what I want. I want him to rule over me. But to do it justly. The way it’s fantasized about. Where I’m cherished and safe and protected and his everything and he’s mine too. I want it to be real.
I close my eyes and force my groan back. It’s like she’s teasing me. Taunting me by saying all the right words. I start to type a response, something about measuring her desires, asking her what she specifically wants. But all of this will be for nothing if the chemistry between us isn’t there, or if she’s simply not ready. I delete the words and the “…” signifying that I’m typing disappears.
Katty93: I realize that I don’t know your history and I really hope you aren’t offended. It wasn’t my intention.
A huff of a laugh leaves me as I sip the whiskey, feeling the warmth flowing through me. She hasn’t offended me in the least, merely given me every indication I was looking for to pursue her. I could push. I could chase. But I need to handle her delicately. She’s like a kitten in a sense. My kitten. Sharp claws, and born into this world ready to claw her way to where she needs to go. But curious. I can rely on that curiosity.
If she wants me, if she truly wants this, she’ll make the initiative.
I’m not a patient man, but good things come to those who wait.
Or so they say.
I down the last bit of whiskey in my glass, the ice clinking and the harsh burn down my throat spreading through my chest. Finally, I respond. Just one little push.
Catlvr89: You won’t know if you don’t go, Katty93
Chapter 6
Katia
The sound of soft, elegant music envelops me as I step into Club X, my heels softly thudding against the plush, rich carpet. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim, ambient lighting as the bouncer that ushered me in gestures to the center of the foyer before leaving to walk back to his post. My eyes are drawn over to where he pointed and I inhale a shocked breath at the sight before me.
The club is absolutely luxurious with a huge ballroom that sports high vaulted ceilings and gorgeous, yet erotic Victorian paintings plastered along all the walls. My feet walk of their own accord closer to where the hum of chatter is coming from. In the middle of the enormous room, finely decorated circular tables dot the area, while a large stage lies in the background, its vast red curtains pulled shut. From what Madam Lynn’s told me, the stage is used for BDSM shows, though there must not be one scheduled for tonight. On one side of the room is an upscale bar with blue ambient lighting that contrasts with the red lighting on the walls from the sconces. It’s all very elegant and alluring. Every detail exudes sex appeal.
My body chills as I realize how far I’ve walked in. I cro
ss my arms over my chest and the bracelet that I found in the box bumps against my breast. I stare down at it. It's simple but elegant, just two thin silver bands with an empty space in between. It means I wish to be a Slave. It’s my membership here, but also a sign to those who are looking for partners. Madam Lynn asked me at least half a dozen times if I was sure. She told me if I changed my mind, I could always have a band put in the middle. A color that would signify my limits. But I’m certain.
I glance up at the large room, and again I’m in awe.
But all of this pales in comparison to the guests milling about the room.
Handsome men wearing party masks, some with animal prints, some adorned with angel wings, and others with full joker masks, fill the large space. Their expensive-looking suits radiate wealth and power, as do their posture and the tone of their voices. Some are sitting at tables, talking with each other, while others are coming in and out of the room, flowing in from a large hallway off to the side that I’m sure leads to other, darker parts of the club. But most of the men have one thing in common--a chained, collared and barely dressed woman at their bidding.
These women follow their Dom or Master with absolute submission, that much is obvious. They’re all so beautiful too, dressed in sparkly and elegant, yet racy dresses that show off their gorgeous curves. They look… healthy. And happy. It’s what surprises me most. My body heats with the realization and I lean slightly against the wall, needing support. This isn’t like my past. This is the fantasy.
I take in a shuddering breath, calming myself. I’m safe here. I open my eyes and watch as a woman seated in a kneeling position on a pillow next to her Master laughs at something he’s said. Or maybe he’s her Dom. I’m not sure. I can’t see her bracelet or his. But what I can see is her obvious devotion and his.
My heart races and as I take in each of the couples, again taken aback by the beautiful clothes they’re wearing, although many of them seem to be no more than scraps of cloth.
Fingering my newbie bracelet, I feel self-conscious with my short black dress that comes up above my knees. It’s not anywhere close to as sexy as the outfits these stunning women have on, but I know I’m just here to check the club out. I’ll have time to dress like them later… if I decide to join. I nod at my inner thoughts. I’m only here to get a taste. A dark voice deep inside of me stirs, whispering that I belong here. I ignore it.
My breath quickens as I watch a Master stop in his tracks to pet his Slave who is obediently following him on her hands and knees. The room spins around me as I watch him gently stroke her hair, and I clutch a hand to my throat, my lips parted in awe.
Everything about this place, the luxurious interior, the moody lighting, the powerful men and breathtaking women, is intoxicating! I take in a deep breath as a euphoric feeling runs through me. It’s like I’m getting high off my surroundings, drunk off the interaction between the Subs, Doms, Slaves and Masters. My pulse races, and my core heats. Seeing these women following around these powerful men obediently, reminds me of how much I crave a Master. How much I need a Master.
I want to feel the safety they’re feeling. The pleasure of being rewarded and cherished. My heart twists in my chest.
Madam Lynn, in a discussion we’d had online after I responded to her email, told me everything I wanted to know about the club and policies, but I would’ve never expected this. This is just… I shake my head. I have no words. It looks nothing like what I went through, but at the same time it carries a familiar feeling. For the first time since being back home, I have hope that I’ll be able to find sexual pleasure. The thought thrills me to my core and terrifies me all at once.
My heart races and my palms sweat as I slowly begin to move through the club, picking up confidence as I walk past the couples. My hands are clasped and my head bowed slightly, but I’m taking in every detail. Keeping my eyes low, I begin the descent into the ballroom, my hand gripping the railing for dear life. My emotions are a stormy mix, but the overriding feeling is lust.
I ignore the stares of the men I pass, knowing not to look them in the eyes and waiting for them to address me. None of them do, and I’m grateful for that. My heart is racing so fast; it feels like it’s going to shoot up my throat. I’m here of my free will, but I don’t want to give offense to anyone. As I step down into the ballroom, a few of the men at surrounding tables stop to stare at me. Two even approach me and I stand perfectly still, my gaze on the floor, waiting for them to command me, but when they spot my bracelet they look away. One gently fingers the bracelet and tells me in a hushed voice, “Welcome.”
I respond quickly, “Thank you, sir,” and wait for further instruction, but he simply leaves me and goes back to his table. I dare to look up, and the men seem to be enjoying whatever conversation they were having before.
Before I can ponder their actions, I watch as an untethered young woman, who’s talking to a group of men at a table, rises from her seat and approaches me. As she gets close, I’m struck by how beautiful and sexy she is. Moving with an elegance I usually only see in a woman twice her age, she’s dressed in a red babydoll dress with a black belt at its center, fishnet stockings and glossy black heels. Her dirty blonde hair is done up into a messy bun with wispy bangs that frame her eyes, and she wears a smile that is so warm and welcoming.
She holds out a manicured hand as she reaches me. “Hello, Katia,” she greets me, her voice low and sultry. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Welcome to Club X. I’m Madam Lynn.”
Her grip is soft and welcoming, and I feel completely at ease in front of her. “Madam Lynn?” I ask, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice.
Madam Lynn flashes me a friendly grin filled with perfectly white, straight teeth. “In the flesh.”
I know it must seem rude, but I stare at her, eyes wide, unable to respond. I just can’t believe it. How in the world is someone so young in charge of all of this? Talking to her online, she seemed wise beyond her years. I assumed that she’d be much older than the youthful woman standing before me. It was so easy to confide into her online, I felt like I was talking to a maternal figure. It’s a shock to see that she’s only a few years older than me at most
“Is something the matter?” Madam Lynn asks when I’m silent for longer than a few seconds.
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry,” I add quickly.
She chuckles at me, waving a dismissive hand. “No need to apologize.”
I get the feeling there’s more than meets the eye to Madam Lynn, but I’m not about to question her. It’s none of my business.
She turns and gestures at the grand ballroom. “So what do you think?” she asks. “Does it suit your tastes?”
I turn my eyes back on the room, seeing all those powerful men dressed in suits with their Subs and Slaves, my breathing becoming ragged again. “It’s wonderful,” I say breathlessly, and mean it. I shake my head as I continue, “I never thought it would be so…” and my voice trails off as I struggle to find the words.
“Intoxicating?” Madam Lynn supplies.
That’s exactly what I was thinking. I nod my head and shoot her a grateful grin. “Yes.”
She gives me a kind smile. “It truly is; you won’t find a place like this anywhere else. And like I told you, all of the members here have had background checks. In addition, they’re safe and clean, and the club is secured. I promise you.” Her eyes shine with sincerity. Before the emotions overwhelm me, she adds, “But there’s so much more to it than what you’re seeing here. Would you like a tour?” She gestures to a hallway up on the walkway overlooking the ballroom.
I shake my head gently; it took me nearly a year to feel comfortable saying no again. And even now, I can feel the tightness in my throat as I deny her. “Could I look on my own?” I ask softly.
“Of course,” she replies and nods her head slightly before turning her attention to someone calling for her a few tables away.
It’s rude, but I walk off without saying a word, l
eaving Madam Lynn standing with an amused expression behind me.
I make my way to the hallway, the hum of the sultry music dimming, trying to keep my eyes to myself as Subs and Doms pass me by. They’re enjoying the power play of their relationships, and I don’t want to interfere by staring. Despite my nervousness, I’m excited as I step into the hallway. This place is a living, breathing fantasy.
I reach the end of the hallway and come to a room with several sliding glass doors. Through them, I can see naked masked men and woman engaged in all sorts of foreplay. My breathing catches in my throat as I watch a woman on her knees, sucking the massive cock of the man standing in front of her. My pussy pulses with need as I watch her head bob back and forth, the man watching her and gripping the back of her head to lead her movements.
I’m so engaged in the display of absolute depravity in front of me, I almost don’t hear the approaching footsteps.
“I’m not sure what you’re into, Katia,” I hear Madam Lynn’s voice behind me, and my heart leaps in my chest. I jump, startled and moving my hand to my frantically beating heart. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I try to catch my breath.
“Sorry dear, I just wanted to let you know that the dungeons are downstairs.”
As I turn to face her, her words make my blood run cold. Dungeon. I told her about some of my fantasies. And I do want to have a true Master who disciplines and punishes me. But the thought of seeing that right now… I just can’t. I’m on edge and trying to take all this in.
“Katia?” Madam Lynn asks with concern. seeing the distress cross my face for a brief instant.
I straighten and flash her a brief, nervous smile. “Sorry.”
Madam Lynn waves away my worry, shaking her head. I’m impressed by how forgiving and down-to-earth she is. “It’s no problem at all. I can see you’re a bit… overwhelmed.”
“I think seeing the playrooms is fine for now,” I answer, changing the subject from her earlier suggestion. A part of me wants to go to the dungeon, but I want to see it in a way that fills me with desire, not trigger me. I know I do want to see it. Just not yet. I’m not sure why, exactly. I don’t know if it’s because I’m destined to crave this wickedness, or whether it’s something that’s burned into my soul because of my past. But I want to feel the sting of the whip. I learned to worship it, and crave the pleasure it led me to. I desperately want it. But not yet. Not right now.