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Izzy reddens again.
“Look, you brought this up to me. Will you be my first source?”
“I don’t know…”
“Izzy, come on. You’re the one who mentioned it, so you must’ve known I’d ask.”
“I’ll talk to you if you can’t get anyone else”—she clears her throat daintily—“but I’m not really the best person. I’m new at it. I’ve only gone to a club a few times.”
“Then you’re the perfect person. We can talk about why you went. How you liked it.”
“Oh, all right,” she says. “But not here.”
“Absolutely. I understand. How about tomorrow night? Just the two of us. Come over to my place.”
“All right. It’s a date.”
Chapter Ten
Frankie
“So what do you want your alias to be?” I ask Isabella the next night.
“I don’t know. You pick something.”
“Okay. Jane Doe.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You said to pick something.”
“Make it Jasmine,” she says.
“All right. Jasmine. Any last name?”
“Nope. Just Jasmine.”
“Does that happen to be, like, a name you use there?”
“God, no. I can’t give you that name. People will know.”
“So that means you have a name you use there.”
“Yeah. I do. Lots of people do.”
Hmm. Interesting. Maybe that’s why Phantom is Phantom. Except…
“You don’t wear a mask, do you?”
“You mean a medical mask? To keep from catching something?”
“Not that kind of mask. I mean to shield your identity.”
“Why would I do that? We all sign agreements.”
Hmm… So why does Phantom disguise himself, then?
“Okay, let’s start with the names people use. Tell me about that.”
“Not everyone uses one,” she says, “but I do. Some of the other women do. It’s kind of a…submissive name.”
“So you’re a submissive?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m a submissive exactly. This isn’t really a lifestyle for me. It’s just something I engage in sometimes. When the mood strikes me and when there’s someone that I trust to dominate me.”
“How do you decide who to trust?”
“It’s a feeling, mostly. At the best clubs, people are usually vetted. Security is everywhere. There’s no reason to fear.”
“Security is one thing, but what about safety, though? I mean… If you’re letting people tie you up, hurt you…”
“You choose a safe word. If at any time you feel unsafe, you say the safe word, and they’ll stop.”
“Have you ever had to use your safe word?”
“I haven’t, but I know it’s there in case I need it. A good Dominant will always respect your safe word. But a good Dominant will also talk to you about the scene beforehand, make sure you’re comfortable with everything they’re about to do, and make sure they know your hard limits.”
“What’s a hard limit?”
“That’s something you won’t ever do, no matter what.”
“Do you have any hard limits?”
“Yes. Blood sports. I don’t want my Dominant to ever draw blood.”
My jaw drops. “Blood?”
“Yes. Some Dominants like to draw some blood, and some submissives enjoy it as well.”
I say nothing. I have no idea what to say. I had no idea this world even existed.
Scratch that. I knew it existed. I just never thought Isabella was part of it.
“Have you ever met anyone you know at these clubs?”
She looks down.
She has.
“Oh my God, who?”
She raises her head and meets my gaze. “I can’t tell you. You know that.”
“Yeah. I guess I do.”
“So what else do you want to know?”
“How many of these places have you been to?”
“Just two. Both here in town.”
I widen my eyes. “There are two here in town?”
“There are probably more. More people are into it than you might think.”
“I know that,” I say. “I read Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“Fifty Shades of Grey didn’t take place in a club,” Isabella says.
“Right. I know that.”
“Not everyone can afford to build a dungeon in their home.”
“Yes, of course.”
In truth, none of this ever crossed my mind. Sure, I read the book, saw the movies. But in real life?
And she’s right. Fifty Shades didn’t take place in a club. The main character had his own playroom—dungeon, apparently, according to Isabella—in his home.
“Could you take me there? To a club?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m not a member at any of the clubs, so I have to go as someone’s guest. I can’t bring guests of my own.”
My mouth is dry, and I rise. “You want something to drink? Water? Wine?”
“Water. Yeah.” She cocks her head. “No…wait. Wine. Red if you have it.”
I walk to my small kitchen, pour a glass of Merlot for Isabella and water for me. I love red wine, but the tannins will only dry my mouth out more. It already feels like the desert.
I bring the glasses back to the living room and take my seat on the couch next to Izzy, handing her the wine glass. She takes a sip. I down my entire glass.
Then I clear my throat. Time to go in for the kill. “Why do you like being a submissive?”
To my astonishment, Isabella doesn’t dodge my question.
