AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They made their way back to the apartment in silence. Given the late hour, Billie would spend the night at Ari’s place, a more convenient option rather than traipsing through the city by train. Once they arrived, and Ari pushed open the slightly stubborn door, she offered Billie a drink. “I’ll fetch you a beer.”
Billie’s response matched her vexed expression. “I think I need something stronger.”
In the kitchen, Ari retrieved a fifth of whiskey along with two glasses. She gestured toward the couch with the bottle. “So, what are you thinking?” Ari asked, laden with genuine curiosity to understand Billie’s perspective on the night.
“This isn’t about me ... what about you? Are you really going through with the entire interview process if they call you?”
“You think I’m insane, don’t you?”
Billie released a heavy exhale. “I wouldn’t say it’s completely batshit. But when they say performer”—she made air quotes—“what the hell does that really mean? Because from what I saw, I imagine you being subjected to lots of poking and prodding on a theater stage in front of a million curious eyes.”
“There definitely wasn’t half a million people there,” Ari said, acknowledging the exaggeration while missing the point of Billie’s concern.
She understood the message that her friend tried to convey, and the idea of women being objectified as entertainment disturbed them both. Beyond that, she held further doubts and hesitations. She wanted nothing to do with having sex with strangers and being treated as a mere plaything to be discarded when they were finished with her. Ari recognized it was time to face the truth about her choices. She couldn’t base her decision solely on speculation and assumptions. She needed a more concrete understanding of what working for Adytum truly meant, and the only way to acquire that was by going to the audition if they called.
“I just want you to stay safe,” Billie said, taking a mouthful of whiskey. The fiery liquid ignited her throat and chest, prompting a cough and a need to catch her breath.
Ari burst into laughter. “You’re supposed to sip, not gulp!”
“Work is supposed to be something you love, not something that loves you. Just promise me this: keep me in the loop, no matter what. I want to know about every person you meet, every time and place you’re supposed to be. If anything goes wrong, at least I’ll have information to give to the police or whoever needs it,” Billie said, her protective instincts coming to the forefront.
“You have my word,” Ari said with unwavering resolve. Committed to upholding her promise, she added, “Every step of the way.”
Chapter 6
Before the club’s door swung open to members, Dylan arrived early to assess the applications that had already poured in. The need to close the submission link had come, as the auditions were only a few days away. Most of the job applications were in, but a few latecomers may still show up. A well-balanced roster of Mistresses, submissives, and the handful of individuals who leaned toward either role was the aim.
Across Dylan’s desk sprawled a pile of applications, all printed out and lined up by the arrival date. The small office, more reminiscent of a closet in size, hosted Dylan’s workspace. Crammed into the limited area were a compact desk and chair facing a wall covered with a series of screens, which broadcasted a live feed from a network of cameras positioned throughout the club. Maxi may have preached privacy to the club’s patrons, declaring that no surveillance was in place, but that wasn’t the case. Hidden cameras recorded every room for the watchful eyes of the security team—which was only Dylan—capturing the explicit displays of carnal desire as they occurred.
With methodical thought, Dylan sorted through the stack of photographs and applications, categorizing them into different piles. Anyone who got an immediate rejection got shredded. If a glimmer of promise caught her eye, she placed the photograph on the pile on the left. Then there were the applicants who intrigued her; their materials were placed to the right, earmarked for auditions.
The pile dwindled under Dylan’s scrutiny, and she suddenly froze, her breath catching in her throat as she recognized a face. The woman staring back at her from the photograph was someone she hadn’t expected to see. The eyes that met Dylan’s were a shade of green that yearned for affection, a silent plea for love. Cascading locks of hair fell just past the shoulders and framed the face of a person who looked no older than eighteen, if that. It couldn’t possibly be.
She turned over the photograph, her gaze drawn to the information provided in the application. Someone had written the name Ariel Delgado on the back. According to the paper fastened to it, Ariel, like most of the other applicants, hailed from a less affluent part of the city and was in her mid-twenties. Unlike other resumes with a list of BDSM and sex work experience, Ariel’s was blank. Shifting her focus back to the photograph, Dylan critiqued it, leaving no detail unexamined.
The woman didn’t fit the typical mold. It was an overt attempt at sensuality with her rigid posture and strained expression. If things were different, Dylan would’ve trashed the image with the other rejects. However, Dylan had seen this woman in the flesh and witnessed the unspoken wonder in her eyes. While Dylan upheld high standards when selecting ladies for her own personal use, this woman’s presence stirred something unique inside her. The potential offerings that she could provide to the club’s clientele were limitless.
She took another look at the stack of photographs and sorted them into two groups: one for Dommes, one for submissives. Leather attire and commanding postures were key elements of Dommes’ unmistakable persona. And the submissives offered a sample of their unclothed bodies in bondage. Ariel Delgado’s image was strikingly different, lacking both the strength and confidence of a Domme and the allure of a submissive.
Maxi would have dismissed her without a second thought. Recognizing this, Dylan chose a different course. Rather than adding Ariel’s photograph to the stack of prospects, she tucked it away in the drawer of her desk, reserving it for consideration at a later time.
Maxi and Dylan met for dinner to discuss the applications ahead of her trip to New Orleans. With some solid candidates in hand, Dylan hoped to get a stamp of approval from Maxi’s impeccable taste. To her surprise, Maxi agreed with her suggestions, resulting in only two out of the twenty rejected.
“Do these women all have experience?” Maxi raised her wineglass to her lips, savoring a sip of the rich red liquid.
Dylan took a moment to gather her thoughts, then responded while twirling strands of spaghetti onto her fork. “Most of them do. However, there are a few newcomers in the mix. I saw the potential benefit of considering some novices. They could serve as blank slates with untapped talent to mold into their roles.”
The gleam in Maxi’s eyes confirmed Dylan was, indeed, on the right course. This boosted her confidence and reinforced Dylan’s trust in her instinct to withhold one applicant’s details from the conversation. The secrecy of Ariel’s application now felt justified. As she sat there, lost in thought, her mind wandered back to the photograph she had carefully hidden away. The mental image of a woman showcasing her cleavage as she lay draped across a worn-out sofa was hard to forget. Lost in thought, Dylan didn’t realize Maxi had asked her a question.
The words registered only when Maxi’s voice suddenly intensified, jolting her back to the present. “Dylan? Who will sit with you for these auditions?”
“Cooper. I’ve asked her to help with the Mistresses since she’s a good bratty sub,” Dylan said. Her focus returned to the abundant plate of spaghetti before her.
“Excellent. I like Cooper. She has a great work ethic.”
To an outside observer, Maxi’s playful remark might appear as flirtation. Most likely, it was just that. Maxi’s coquetry often involved making inappropriate innuendos, which some found charming and others found offensive. “And that’s precisely what I found intriguing about you, mon petit. You were a blank canvas, too, much like what we’re seeking in potential talent. I remember when you were a little virgin tasting BDSM for the first time. You suckled dominance from my bosom like it was a life-giving substance. Now, look at you. Picking out fresh cherries from the crop. I’m so proud.”
While listening to Maxi, Dylan fidgeted in her seat, trying to keep a mental boundary between them. Maxi’s charisma could melt even the most composed stone butch in her presence. With a hint of playfulness in her voice, Dylan managed a quick retort and bowed her head slightly. “Indeed, Sensei. You have taught me well.”
