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PROLOGUE
MAVERICK
Deviant.
It’s like my momma, god rest her soul, knew when she named me that down the line I’d be cursed.
Or maybe she set me up. A self-fulfilling prophecy by her own design.
It doesn’t much matter either way because here I am.
Damn near fifty. Just shy by two years, but once you get to this age, they all blur and run together.
The life I’ve lived grants me enough experience and clarity to call myself seasoned and knowledgeable.
About the world, sex, relationships, and everything in between.
I’ve always strived to learn and never stop learning. I soak up everything I’ve ever seen and used it whenever necessary.
Which leads me to here and now as I glance down at the woman tied to the circular bed with bright red sheets in this room at The Opal Club.
Or Club Opal.
Or Opal.
All are valid and used interchangeably depending on who you talk to.
I don’t know her name and I don’t care to. They come and they go and ultimately none of it matters.
They are willing participants, just like everyone is here.
All vetted. NDAs signed. Contracts signed. Dues paid.
Consensual.
The parts of me I’ve hidden from everyone in my life are encased in this club.
Built from blood, sweat, and even some tears to what it is now. I spent my twenties hustling, starting and building a following for a nightclub so I could fund my true passion.
A place where I and countless others like me could come and not be concerned that the things we want are sick, which they may be, but we don’t judge.
I’ve met some of my best friends within these walls, and I’m about to show the girl below me what it means to experience euphoria beyond her wildest dreams.
“Hello, little lamb. Are you sure you want to be here at my mercy?” She’s unable to respond with the strap of leather between her teeth, but this is what she asked for, and I’m nothing if not thorough.
You think that if you've seen one kink club, you’ve seen them all. I would agree to a certain extent because we all carry some of the same elements. But Opal? This is where you come to experience the tabooest of desires.
We do not judge. We envelop you within our stronghold and watch out for you as you set your desires alight and, of course, it’s always nice to have a few friends in your back pocket for any of those pesky little hiccups in life.
And this pretty little blonde, full of curves and decadence pouring from her, wants to fuck her dad. She’s been trying to hint at it for quite a while, and he’s been resistant and not picking up her cues. Not everyone can be lured into the deviant side of life and for this little morsel, she chose to look for a way to fulfill her desire safely.
It just so happens that her father and I share a striking resemblance, so when she was ballsy enough to approach me and ask for help, I was hard-pressed to turn her down. When a beautiful woman wants you to fuck her like a whore, then you’d be an idiot to say no. I accepted as long as we agreed to certain things.
I laid out my terms, and she agreed to every single one, but I made my colleague, Monica Sinclair, interview her independently. I pride my reputation above all else and won’t have any snafus arising, clamoring that I took advantage of animpressionable mind. As if this thirty-two-year-old woman is a young, impressionable teen. She may be younger than me, but she’s a full-grown adult, and if she wants to be used and abused in front of a crowd, that’s her own prerogative.
The large window spanning almost the entire left side of the room is filled to the brim of people desperate to watch. I’ll let them feast their eyes upon some of what will happen here tonight, but the rest, well, they can use their imaginations. The little lamb requested only a partial viewing to ease herself in.
My hands are calloused, covered in tattoos that snake up my arms, and silver rings adorn several of my fingers. I graze them over her exposed flesh, letting her feel every inch and judging by the goosebumps pebbling her skin, she enjoys it.
