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With my fingers curling on my throat in the space between his, I close the circle, claiming him too. I’ve never been more proud to be his.
The flirting instantly ends, and she swivels the screen in our direction, tapping a short red fingernail on the list of files. “Upon application, every member undergoes comprehensive financial and criminal background checks as well as physical and psychological examinations. Once accepted, they pay both a substantial entry fee as well as a continued significant monthly charge.”
I glance at Titan. His face is stone. I can’t tell if he’s as stunned as I am how exclusive and thorough this place is. Silence is good, I think. At least he hasn’t stormed out.
The manager slides a small black oval with a blue swirl button toward us. “To ensure only vetted members and their approved guests enjoy the facility, we have a double confirmation system with their photos as well as a biometric scan.”
She pushes her thumb against the device, and her picture pops up on the monitor. “No match, no entrance. If the hostess experiences any issues, there are multiple panic buttons and security is instantaneous.”
A mirrored wall whizzes open when she taps her wristband, and two armed guards bolt through, only ceasing with Maxim’s command to stand down.
Titan remains quiet as everyone looks at him. I guess Maxim has passed so far.
“As Mr. Makarov’s personal guests, you’ll have full rein of the amenities including scene rooms, refreshments, and required accessories. Please ask anyone with a nametag like mine for assistance if you should need anything. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Sultry instrumental music wafts toward us after she opens the heavy stainless-steel door similar to a walk-in freezer. Inside looks like an upscale restaurant with various sizes and heights of round tables, small gatherings of gray leather chairs and sofas, and a long wooden bar running down the entire side of the room. People laugh and talk and drink just like any normal club.
The subtle differences slowly appear more obvious as I take everything in.
A woman kneels on the floor next to a man deep in conversation with another guy while he completely ignores her. Surprisingly, her expression appears serene rather than insulted by his disrespect treating her like a dog. A guy standing at the bar wears a glistening collar connected to a leash held by his owner, I guess. One girl is topless as she sits on a sofa talking to another lady. Silver clamps squeeze her nipples, yet she doesn’t seem to be in pain.
Wow.
I follow Titan’s frowning gaze to a couple walking toward us from an open area behind the lounge. The man carefully leads the woman in our direction since she cannot see the path for herself with a purple blindfold covering half of her face. Her lips curl around a white ball stuffed into her mouth and held in place by black straps stretched across each cheek to tie behind her head. Drool leaks out from one corner and trickles down her chin. Her hands are bound behind her back by a red silk scarf. Yet she doesn’t thrash or protest her conditions. Just like the woman on her knees and the man confined like a pet, she appears content.
As they pass by us, Titan’s arm slides around my chest creating a protective barrier even though there isn’t a threat. I guess he’s stunned too.
“What the fuck?”
He murmurs his shock into my hair. My thoughts exactly. This isn’t at all what I expected. I guess Maxim understands our disgust.
“She’s fine, I promise. See that little yellow ball she’s holding? If she wants to stop, she just squeezes, and the squeak will let her partner know it’s over. No one here is being forced to do anything they don’t want. I guarantee it.”
His promise matches the vibe of the room. Everyone acts like this is all fine. Although I thought I would see more sex and fewer mind games, the atmosphere feels laidback.
Titan accepts the explanation, allowing Maxim to lead us further into the building. Titan tucks me tight against him as we walk, still in a defensive mode. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long as wild as this place is. I expect him to haul me out of here at any moment.
I have to eat my words. The area we just left has nothing on the space we’re in now. Holy shit.
Walkways line each side of a row of platforms separated by cushioned benches for spectators. The first stage features a woman rigged into a contraption that allows her to have sex with two men simultaneously while she gives a third guy a blow job. The grunting and thrusting should be embarrassing to hear and watch yet I can’t look away from the group.
Next to them, a man is strapped to a table unable to move while another guy trails over his torso with a tiny blade. My stomach aches watching them. No blood appears from his tracks, but the scraping noise from the metal against his skin makes queasiness swim in my belly.
I can’t stop staring at the third couple. The naked woman bends over a mattress raised to her waist. Handcuffs encircle her wrists confining her to a bar at the end of the small bed. Leather straps restrain her ankles three feet apart putting the pink glass flower in her ass on display. The man leisurely drags his fingertips down her spine, praising her for being such a good girl for him.
As wrong as the sensation may be, my pussy clenches from the image, the words, the connection between them. His assured hand strokes over her butt cheek before pushing the center of the rose to wedge the toy deeper inside her. The moan from her mouth sounds so pleasurable my panties dampen. When he glides lower to her wet lips and dips inside, she cries out and I jolt in response.
Titan curses again and sheathes my back. My sex flutters from his hard cock straining in his pants against my bare skin in the cutout of my blouse. Something comes over me and I look up at him, meeting his dark expression. “I want to do that.”
He nods and licks his lip. “Jesus, Fireball. Just not here.”
I can’t even breathe right with his agreement. Trying to calm myself down, I take a few shuddering breaths. We’re here for Chelsea, not us but damn if I can’t help myself from the idea of Titan fucking me like that.
No action occurs at the last station. A woman and man hold hands as they sit together on the bench in silence. She immediately hops up as we approach and buzzes in anticipation, shifting her weight from side to side, while he sighs and crosses his arms.
Maxim nods to the lady before turning to us. A somber expression greets us. “She used to be one of my scene partners. She has a desire for punishment that her husband is unwilling to provide.”
He points to a table in the corner covered with different sticks, belts, and whips.
