Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Don’t move,” he orders me, before stepping away.
Part of me wants to immediately take the blindfold off, but if I do that, there’s a decent chance he will just remove me from the club, and I am starting to get excited about being here.
A low murmur of voices suggests a conversation is taking place nearby. I can’t make out the content of the conversation, but I have the feeling it is about me. Who else would it possibly be about?
With my sight gone, I instantly find my ears straining for sounds. There really aren’t any, except for a light little jingle as he comes back. This time, he does not come to my side. This time, he steps up behind me.
“This collar marks you as mine,” Marcus purrs in my ear as he wraps a leather-feeling strap of material around my neck and secures it in place just firmly enough that I know it is there. “It is important here, because any uncollared women might very well find themselves being used in a way they will not enjoy. Are you familiar with the concept of an embassy?”
“Sure.”
“Embassies are foreign soil inside another country,” Marcus says, explaining anyway. “The laws of the country whose embassy it is are in effect there, even though they are located inside the jurisdiction of another country.”
“Right,” I say, already knowing very well how embassies work, and thinking it is a rather strange time to give a lesson on international law.
“This club is called the Embassy, and it is called that because laws as you know them are suspended when inside. You enter as flesh to be used, and nothing more. You have no rights, and you have no recourse.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is.”
Hearing his voice in the dark makes this all the more intense. He sounds serious, and I have no doubt that rich, sick people would get away with creating a haven for them to be sick and rich inside.
“You are safe with me,” he says. “But you will need to stay with me in order to remain so. There are sights in this place that will tempt you. Do not give in. Stay by my side, no matter what anybody says to you.”
It is very strange to be given the stranger-danger, don’t-take-the-candy talk on the precipice of going into a lawless rich man’s sex club. I’m thoroughly intimidated by this point. Fear is running through me with every breath I take. There are places in the world I can feel safe, but I don’t think Marcus Waterstone’s company is ever going to be one of them. He is dangerous, and he is taking me further into danger.
“Now, I want you to be good for what happens next,” he says.
“What’s going to happen next?”
Before my breathless question can be acknowledged, let alone answered, I hear a female voice in the dark.
“Lovely to see you again, Mr. Waterstone. Is this a new pet?”
“Yes. She will need a tag.”
I feel him remove my coat. Now I am standing in long boots, a short skirt, and a black tank top. It’s a very simple outfit, because I am a simple girl on a budget.
I hear someone in expensive high heeled shoes walk around behind me. Female nails brush lightly against the back of my neck for a moment, shifting the collar up a fraction. Then I feel a sharp pinch, and something seems to enter underneath my skin.
“What the fuck!”
That’s it! I reach up, rip the blindfold off, and stare, horrified, into the eyes of Marcus Waterstone and the… secretary? Greeter? Nurse? Of the Embassy.
She is a very beautiful, charismatic woman in her forties. Straight, jet black hair falls all the way to her waist. Her eyes are a piercing blue. Her makeup is dramatic and perfect and entirely smooth. This is one of those women I will always find intimidating. She is wearing a little white dress with an overcoat that makes her look like a nurse of sorts. She is also holding one of those thick needles much like those I’ve seen vets use, ones that deliver a chip underneath the skin of an animal.
“Did you just chip me like a fucking dog?”
“Language, Charlie,” Marcus chides me. “You’re being very chaotic and disobedient.”
“What pup isn’t at first?” The woman looks at me, smiling. She is not perturbed by my outrage. “She will settle down nicely. I will register her chip number to your account in a moment. Let me just check that it settled properly.”
Marcus takes me by the hands, presumably to keep them occupied as she waves a dark plastic tool over me. There is a beep, and she nods, satisfied.
“Good,” she says. “That’s nicely seated there.”
My outrage is growing by the moment. This can’t be happening. It absolutely cannot be real.
“You just chipped me like a dog. How dare you!”