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Shoot, he probably already read my guest application, and he likely knew more about my sexuality than just about everyone on Earth, other than Shyla. All the worrying was kind of pointless. I didn’t have to hide or pretend who I am with him, and knowing that gave me a feeling freedom which was both wonderful and scary. He knew I was a subbie princess; he knew what I was looking for in a Daddy, and I could only hope we were compatible.
Deep inside my hidden, secret heart, the one that believed in true love and fate, I really hoped we were. I mean, he seemed like the kind of man who was naturally Dominant, and I fell solidly into the submissive category. When I’d first dipped my toe into the BDSM scene with Shyla at my side years ago, I tried my hand at Topping and found it totally not my thing. If anything, being in charge had turned me off, so I happily embraced life as a submissive.
At least I had, until douche showed up and made my natural tendency to be passive and obedient something that could be used and exploited for his own sick reasons.
Shyla’s voice and the movement of the car as we inched forward snapped me out of my past. “Once we get inside, you’ll have a brief meeting with one of the hostesses of the club. She’ll go over the rules with you again and answer any questions you might have. After that, you get a welcome basket filled with exotic fruit and dildos. Then, they’ll bring you to me—I’ll be waiting in one of the tamer bars. Okay?”
“Uh huh. Wait—a gift basket of fruit and dildos?”
Shyla laughed as we idled behind a really fancy blue sports car, then we waited our turn for the valet. “No, no gift basket. But they probably will take you on a tour first. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
“Very funny,” I grumped, watching with interest as a tall, dazzling brunette wearing a sliver bikini and a bunch of glittering chains draped around her toned waist was helped from the limo before us. “Wow, she’s stunning.”
Shyla sighed. “There are sooooo many beautiful women here. Remember, this is Hollywood, where everyone has a plastic surgeon and personal trainer on speed dial. There are women in there in their sixties who look as good nude as any thirty-year-old. But don’t worry, not everyone is skinny. You’re sure to find a ‘curvy girl’ to play with.” She lightly elbowed me in the ribs and winked. “I had no idea you were so enamored with large breasts. Makes me kinda self-conscious with my lil’B cups over here.”
“I never should have let you see my club application,” I muttered.
“Awww, don’t be a poop. You know I like girls, too. I’m all about the person, not the gender. Besides, you asked me to read over your application because I had to explain to you what some of the kinks meant.”
“There were over two hundred kinks listed!” I folded my arms as I pouted. “I still think some of them were made up.”
Shyla laughed and eased her beast of a car forward. “Oh, I assure you, they were all real.”
My reply was cut off as a very muscular valet in a black suit opened the door to the low-slung sports car. He wore a half black, half gold leather mask that covered him from forehead to chin on the sides, leaving just his mouth, nose, and eyes exposed. The smile he gave me was very charming, and I bet he had no lack of women warming his bed. I might have been interested if my tastes ran towards pretty, urban men.
“Good evening, Ms. Isabella,” he said with a smooth voice to match his smooth smile.
It took me a second to remember my fake name for Club Wicked. “Thank you. Uh, how did you know my name?”
His lips twitched, but his voice was even as he replied, “When you met with the guards at the front gates, they alerted us to your arrival.”
“Oh.”
Shyla swept up next to us on the arm of the other valet, the sparkly black mask she wore wearing matching her catsuit perfectly. “Shall we, Princess Isabella?”
“Actually,” the valet who’d helped me gave Shyla a little bow then said, “Mr. Skyler would like to have a word with your guest first, if you don’t mind, Ms. Tawny.”
“Who?” I asked as my heart began to hammer.
“Tyler,” Shyla leaned forward and whisper-hissed in my ear. “Skyler is Tyler’s club name. Remember, secret names only.”
“Oh, right, right.” Feeling like a dufus, I nervously laced my fingers together and turned to the man, who had to be a security guard, watching me closely. “Go on inside, Sh-Tawny. I’m sure this gentleman will help me find you once I’m finished talking with Mr. Skyler.”
