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“Are we going out?”
I nod, then warn her. “Going someplace I can finally play my way.”
The lush lips part. The distance between us as we sit down is so little I can see the rapid dilation of her pupils as fresh excitement fills her bloodstream.
The lovely fool thinks I’m going to play with her.
I am, but not the way she has in mind. We are going to the Century Club, a private sanctuary where the rich can play together and where temporary pets come in search of new masters, their legs and mouths open to anyone who wishes to give them an audition.
I plan on several auditions. I plan on a row of pliant mouths and cunts to burn away my weakness for the woman sitting next to me. I will fuck them until my dick is too worn to become rigid at the thought or sight of Katelyn.
Even when her lips tremble as they do now.
Griffin
Leaving Philip at home,I direct Katelyn toward the passenger side of the Aston Martin and slide into the driver’s seat. I put classical music on and do nothing to invite conversation. I have not told Katelyn how beautiful she looks. I have not touched her since the bedroom this morning and every nerve ending in my body seeks to remind me of this intentional omission.
But I stay quiet and so does she. We both seem to know that tonight is a make or break moment. I want her straining obedience. She wants…
I don’t know exactly. A relationship? Love?
Whatever it is, she’s not getting it. Tonight she will either accept her place in my world or go back to hers.
Reaching downtown Chicago, I pull into a row of widely spaced limos and high end sports cars in a private underground garage. I have to show my face to get into the garage and show it again to the dark-suited security guards that flank the private elevators.
They nod in recognition but don’t say my name. They only look at Katelyn long enough to remember her for the night in case there’s a problem.
No longer keeping my hands to myself, I maintain a proprietary grip on Katelyn as I sign her in as a guest.
A middle-aged blonde approaches dressed in peekaboo black lace from chin to the toes of her high heels boots. This is Martinique, one of the club’s two managers, the lesser of the two in all ways.
“Who do you have for her?” I ask.
Katelyn stiffens against me.
“Mac will keep your pet safe while you play,” Martinique purrs.
I nod. Century Club is a mix of people who can afford the high fees and those who can’t. Those who can’t aren’t technically employees, but their membership is sponsored with the expectation of certain duties. Mac is a professional Dom. But he will not touch Katelyn. His duty is to safely chaperone her, to let her watch others at play so she can understand just what I intend to do to her body if she returns home with me.
“And what do you have for me?”
Martinique indulges an ugly smirk, her gaze bouncing for a second off Katelyn. It’s no secret Martinique is a switch. She goes top and bottom. Mostly she prefers to top women and submit to males. When it comes to the paid members, it is even less of a secret that she hopes to find a permanent patron among them.
“Do you want me to show you now or…” She shrugs and tosses another glance at Katelyn.
“Now,” I answer.
Anger vibrates through pet’s body as we follow Martinique.
Entering a drawing room, there are six women naked and blindfolded. They kneel on a two-stepped bench, forearms flat against the top tread.
Releasing my hold on Katelyn, I walk along the back of the women first, and then in front of them. Martinique knows I like all shapes and colors, but tonight I am inclined in a specific direction.
A brunette with an athletic frame, pretty but not a mirror to Katelyn. Squirming, perhaps a little too eagerly, but I can whip some of the energy out of her.
I give a little nod to Martinique.
“Four, stay,” she barks. “The rest of you sluts leave.”
