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At least he hadn’t broken my skin.
“A fucking free pass to a shibari class and access to the entire place for the night!” He laughed. “Can you imagine? It’s like the number one exclusive club in Boston. Last I’d heard, the owner went to an invite-only policy because too many people tried to join. Fuck.”
I put the pieces of the puzzle my ears had missed together. He’d won a pass to a BDSM club in Boston and planned on dragging me along with him to check it out.
Ever since he’d found kink porn, Stephen had gone down a road I wasn’t comfortable with. He’d started with restraints, and I’d agreed because I was willing to play as long as it made him happy and loving. Cuffs hadn’t made me wet for him, so he’d turned to rope. Then chains. Neither encouraged my body to produce moisture to ease penetration.
Then a flogger arrived in a discrete box.
A paddle.
A whip.
Finally, a cane.
He’d studied websites and claimed to educate himself on how to be a proper Dom.
I’d found the guts to tell him pain didn’t give me any pleasure and that I would prefer other things in the bedroom. That paddle had bruised my backside beneath his swings. I hadn’t been able to sit for five days because I’d dared to question his leadership.
“I-I’d rather not go,” I managed to find my voice, knowing honesty might land me strapped down to a table and crying before night’s end.
“Tough shit.” His tone didn’t allow for argument. “You’ll wear that long black coat in public and nothing else for when we walk through the club’s door.”
My stomach churned, threatening to spew bile up my throat. “Stephen—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Becky!” he shouted, glowering at me, dark eyes glinting. Unyielding. “Do you know how hard it is to get into a club like this? The amount of money it costs for a fucking membership? Tens of thousands! If you think for one second that I’m going to give up this chance of a lifetime because you’re self-conscious, you’re delusional. We’re going—and I will find something there that will turn your frigid body on.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to spill the soup while dishing it up.
We settled at the table without another word. I knew better than to question after he laid the law down.
Stuck.
That was what I was. I stared at my soup, appetite voracious when a normal woman wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of food while fighting back tears.
I’d been with Stephen for years. We’d grown up together. He’d been one of the few who hadn’t bullied me for my plump size all through our childhood. Unfortunately, I’d never thinned out while growing taller. At five-foot-eight, I shouldn’t have weighed almost double what a woman my size ought to. But Stephen liked my curves, grabbed them all the time, and told me how he enjoyed watching my fatty flesh ripple while he pounded into me.
I wished I was so easily turned on.
Sighing, I dipped myself another bowlful.
“Hurry it up,” Stephen said, pushing aside his half-finished soup and scooting back his chair. “I want you showered and shaved. Leave the pussy hair though—just trim it up a bit. Can’t have you looking like a slob on my leash.”
Heat rushed to my face, and I bowed my head over my dinner, eyes closing.
“What? Did you think I was going to hold your hand and lead you around like a lover? You’re going as my sub tonight. Demure and quiet until I demand your tears.”
Did he expect to scene in front of other people? I opened my mouth to argue, but his next words snapped my jaw shut.
“Chantelle’s.” He chuckled while bending down to untie his work boots. “I’m so fucking lucky.”
Chantelle’s.
My cousin’s BDSM club…
I stilled, a spoonful of chicken and potatoes near my mouth, not sure what to think or how to feel. I hadn’t spoken to my cousin in months, thanks to Stephen taking control over my cell and forbidding me to talk to anyone outside my work at the coffee shop. I knew she’d been into kinky stuff for years, and she’d told me about the club she’d created that allowed her to be free to explore her lifestyle—and get paid to invite others into her space.
Stephen wanted to parade me around her place on a leash. Naked. Doing so would make him happy, and maybe he was right in thinking we might find something that would fix my broken body.