Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
The nightmare is always the same. It begins with my last scene at the club—the scene where the Dom went too far. He drew blood, which is a hard limit for me.
But he stopped after my safe word.
Blossom, forgive me.
The words pulse in my mind. He uttered them, and then he took care of me. Cleaned the wound, applied antiseptic, apologized again and again.
I told him it was okay.
And I thought it was.
But then the nightmares began. The nightmares where he keeps going, where he ignores my safe word, and where my lips become glued shut.
I’m helpless.
He keeps whipping me and whipping me and whipping me, and just when I think I’m going to lose consciousness forever—
I wake up.
I’ve tried going back to the club several times since the incident, but I haven’t been able to participate in a scene.
I feel so lost, as if part of me is gone forever.
I breathe in, hold it as long as I can, and then exhale. A few more times, and my heartbeat finally slows.
I take a drink of water from the cup at my bedside, and then I lie down.
But sleep doesn’t come.
Chapter One
Mary
“Thank you,” I say, handing the black bag to the customer. “Hope to see you again soon.”
She smiles, turns, walks out the door. The fur-lined handcuffs in her small black bag could be anything. We don’t put our logo on the bags, nothing that could help identify the contents, for the sake of the customer’s privacy.
I head back out on the floor and approach a young woman looking at corsets.
“May I help you with anything?” I ask her.
She meets my gaze as her cheeks redden. “I’m just looking. Thank you, though.”
“Absolutely. My name is Mary if you need anything.”
“Sure. Thanks.” She turns away from me.
I’m used to customers who are embarrassed to be here. We sell lingerie, bras, panties, bustiers, and corsets. We also sell eveningwear and clubwear.
And leatherwear.
And toys.
All types of BDSM paraphernalia.
We do a good business, and I’ve been the top salesperson every year since I began, assistant manager for a year now. Still, though, selling leather gear won’t get me a Tesla anytime soon.
Brenda thinks I’m crazy for even wanting a car in New York City. She’s probably right.
My phone buzzes, and I check the caller ID. Speak of the devil.
“Hey, Bren,” I say into the phone.
Brenda Loring is my best friend and also a fellow submissive. She and I met back in college at Mellville University. We’ve been in the scene for a while…until Brenda did something that we both swore never to do.
She fell in love with her Dominant.
They’re engaged now, and they go to Black Rose Underground together.
“Drinks tonight?” she asks.
“Sure. Nothing else to do on a Friday night, is there?”
“Dalton is out of town,” Brenda says, “I was thinking…”
I take one more look at my customer to make sure she doesn’t need me, and then I walk toward the back of the store and lower my voice. “I’ve tried, Brenda. It’s not happening.”
“You’ve got to get back in the saddle, Mary. Jack went a little too far on you, but it was only because he was fighting his own demons. He never meant—”
“I know that. I know how sorry he is. I see it for what it is, but I don’t know that I’m ready.”
“You’ll never be ready if you don’t get back in the game.”
“Maybe I’m tired of the scene. Maybe I want to be a little…vanilla from now on.” I gaze at the shelves of BDSM toys in the back—whips, floggers, bindings, cuffs. Trying to be vanilla while still working here would be difficult. Maybe it’s time to move on.
“I suppose you could try that,” Brenda says. “Have you gotten on Tinder or Lustr or any of those sites?”
“No.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know that I’m waiting for anything, really. I just know that nothing seems to feel right these days. Not the club. Not a relationship. Nothing.” I sigh. “Maybe I’m meant to be alone.”
“Someone as hot as you was never meant to be alone, Mary.”
“Maybe,” I say again. “But I’m thinking about getting a different job.”
Brenda’s gasp hits my ear through the phone. “You’re going to leave Treasure’s Chest? They love you there. Plus you teach those classes for them.”
“I’m not sure I should be teaching classes anymore, either,” I say. “What if being a submissive just isn’t…me anymore?”
“Drinks tonight,” Brenda says again firmly. “Like I said, Dalton is out of town, so meet me at the bar.”
“Which bar?”
She scoffs. “You damned well know which bar. You meet me there, Blossom, and be ready.”
Brenda ends the call before I can object.
I suppose there’s no better way to find out if my submissive days are truly behind me than to try once more. Brenda and I haven’t gone to the club together since she and Dalton professed their love to each other a year ago. We used to have the most fun, going to the club together as single women, submissives looking for scenes. Meeting potential Dominants, sharing a drink, and then, if we felt comfortable, playing.