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There might be rescue here—if she could get away from him long enough. If she could figure out who might not keep Quill’s secrets. But if he went down, she went down. She had no illusions about that.
“Before we go in,” Quill said, “let me make my rules clear. You will dosomethingwith one of my friends tonight. I don’t care what. It doesn’t have to be full-blown sex. But there will be a negotiation, and he will pay me. I have friends here who get a thrill out of paying for it. It’s their kink, and I’m happy to oblige them. You will be, too. Are we clear?”
Everything inside Saskia felt wound into a tight ball. It was anything but clear.
“Yes, Master.”
His lips brushed against her cheek. “Good. Relax, pet. We’re just opening a door and walking through it.”
Maybe for him that was what they were doing. For her, she was making compromises with her own soul. Did she want him? Yes. Should she? No. Did she want this? This thing that was about to happen? She had no idea, but if she didn’t do whatever was asked of her, it wouldn’t end well. Of that much she was certain.
But there were so many witnesses. Surely she’d be able to find an ally and escape. But the same ugly question continued to bubble to the surface... escape to where? To what? What kind of life lay beyond his grasp, and did she even want any of the available options?
Quill had no idea of the conflict that churned through her as he opened the door, his hand resting on her lower back, guiding her through. It made her want to move closer for his protection, even though she felt certain he was about to throw her to some wolves.
Saskia turned back and gripped his arms. She must resemble a panicked deer. “W-wait... you said I didn’t have to have sex... I didn’t think you could do that anyway at these places.”
“This is a privately owned space—by invitation only. It’s no different than if I invited everyone to my house. Anyone can have sex with anyone here, but I told you, tonight, you don’t have to go that far.”
He backed her into the club. Surely someone was going to notice that. But if these were all his friends, there was no way to know if anyone would help her even if she wanted an out. Who was she kidding? She still considered achieving a spot in his bed as some sort of life goal. Being collared by the real life Joseph Quill was like a hot fever dream. Even if she’d had little actual say in the deal.
“If anything happens that you really can’t handle and you need it to stop, sayRed. If they don’t stop, I will stop them.”
Off her confused expression, he said, “I told you, you’d have limits and boundaries with everyone but myself and Marcus. But you’d better choose those limits carefully. Don’t throw that word around just to flex your limited free will.”
Translation: it would have to be genuinely traumatic, or she’d be in trouble when they got home.
The first room just past the lobby was a large, wide open space. It looked very much like the warehouse or factory it had been labeled as. The walls were a corrugated metal. Bare rafters were exposed. But the lighting was more like a dance club. At eye level, a mirrored band about two feet tall wrapped itself around the room.
The last thing Saskia wanted to do here was look into her own eyes or a reflection of anyone else’s.
A large conveyor belt wound around the room with enough distance between it and the walls for various restraints and bondage equipment at the edges of the room.
The conveyor belt moved at a grindingly slow pace, not fast enough to manufacture or bottle anything. It was easily wide enough for a person to lay spread-eagled on—which was what a few were doing as the machine took them on a tour of the room. Others sat at small tables next to the belt, touching those on the conveyor as they passed.
These weren’t casual touches, but lewd groping that everyone on this fun house ride expected from the moment they got on.
Restraints were configured into an upper bar that moved with the belt, allowing people to be bound while standing on the large machine.
A few girls weren’t bound, they’d just jumped on and grabbed one of the upper bars, using it to steady themselves as they swayed to the pulsing beats that seemed to cover the entire warehouse in fuzzy unreality.
The lush pounding of the music vibrated through Saskia. It wasn’t that it was loud, it was that the bass was cranked high enough that it wasn’t so much a sound anymore as a feeling.
This building was so far removed from the world she knew, so cloaked in darkness and drumbeats, that it felt like anything that happened here wouldn’t count. And maybe that was what made the space in her mind open up a little to accept Quill’s demands.
He guided her to another door. “Let me show you the rest.”
From here, there was a hallway with a black-and-white checked parquet floor. The walls were a striking cherry red. On them hung artistic fetish photographs done in black and white with dramatic lighting shining over each image. It was the only illumination in the hallway.
Saskia’s heels clicked sharply on the floor as they moved down the hall. The end of the hallway up ahead had another art photo, but it looked as if the hall just stopped in a dead end. Maybe there was a secret panel or something. Anything seemed possible here.
Quill stretched his arm across the front of her body, blocking her. “Careful. I need to lead you down. With those boots, you might get hurt otherwise.”
Saskia gripped hold of the concern he seemed to offer. Now that she looked more closely, she could see the hallway didn’t end. There was a large square opening in the floor, that turned directly into stairs that spiraled down to another lower level.
He went down a few steps first, then reached up for her. She took his hand and let him guide her until she could grip onto the railing herself. The same music piped in down below. The hallway had buffered and muted it, but in the underground space, it came roaring back to full life.
The lower level appeared smaller than the upper, but the activity was more intense, which surprised her, given the conveyor belt where strangers could grope and finger anyone who moved past.
