Page 41 of Single Malt
My first thought as I followed the Mannings into the main area was that it didn’t look anything like what I thought a sex club would look like. No leather or chains, for one thing. No matter how high class it was, Club Privé was still a BDSM club.
Except I was starting to think that I didn’t understand what that meant as well as I’d thought I did.
The bar and tables looked like they could be in any of the other high-end clubs I’d gone to over the past few years, but there were also obvious differences too. Screens were set up at different points around the perimeter, and as the Mannings led me around, I noticed a variety of furniture behind the screens. Chaises, armchairs, a wooden bench, a couple things that I hadn’t seen before and had no names for. A closer look revealed some of the furniture had various types of restraints attached.
Despite the lack of a name, I didn’t need much of an imagination to know how those were used.
An image flashed through my mind.
Freedom’s wrists above her head as she writhed in pleasure. My fingers and mouth bringing her to climax over and over again. The expression on her face when she came and the knowledge that everyone who heard her would know that I’d done that for her. That she was mine, and no one else would ever see her like that again.
Then I saw the positioning of one of the lights and realized what the screens were for.
“Exhibitionists?” I gestured toward the screens and the lights.
“Sort of,” Carrie said. She wrapped her arm around Gavin’s waist and leaned against him. “I’m guessing you’re not a part of the life.”
Her statement held no accusation or defensiveness. In fact, I got the impression that she was simply clarifying so that she understood how much to explain.
I shook my head. “Just bits and pieces, and I’m sure even some of that is wrong.”
She smiled. “I didn’t know anything about it either until I met Gavin.”
“Which is why she’s the one who gives new members and new employees the spiel about how it all works.” Gavin gave Carrie a quick kiss. “Why don’t you fill him in on a few things while I go talk to Emmett about today’s security roster?”
Carrie nodded, and as Gavin walked away, she explained what she meant about the whole exhibition thing.
“Most people think that everyone in BDSM is into the exact same thing to the exact same degree, but that’s not the case, and one of the reason’s we’re so successful is that we understand that.” She pointed to the far wall. “We have private rooms with doors that can lock for people who want to play without an audience, or if they only want a few people to watch, they can leave it unlocked. Those who like the idea of exhibitionism but don’t want the full show can have sex or whatever behind the screens so that people can only see their shadows.” Carrie then pointed toward the center of the room. “The hardcore exhibitionists perform on the stage.”
“Perform?” I had a feeling I knew what she meant, but I wasn’t going to assume.
“Sometimes, it’s just a bondage scene without any actual sex,” she said. “But sometimes they fuck.”
I’d been right.
“We try to have at least one performance every night, and sometimes our employees will sign up to play either with members or with other employees, but our contracts are very clear that they aren’t being paid for sex and that absolutely nothing is done without consent.” Carrie’s expression became somber. “We take that very seriously.”
“I wouldn’t be doing business with you if I thought otherwise.”
I might’ve said more, but a statuesque redhead came over to us, her miniskirt and halter top showing off her figure without being trashy.
“Yes, Joyce?” Carrie asked, her expression one of polite professionalism.
“Elizabeth called in sick,” Joyce said, “so it’ll be just Dennis and me performing tonight unless I can find a third for our scene.” She glanced at me and then did a double-take. Her eyes ran down my body and then back up again. “Are you a new member?” She practically purred as she turned toward me. “Maybe you’d like to play.”
I should have wanted to, even with my strong suspicion that she was talking about a threesome with another man. I wasn’t attracted to men, but I wasn’t homophobic either. A threesome didn’t freak me out, but I was still going to decline the offer. Because no matter how gorgeous this woman was, I could only think of myself here with one woman.
Dammit.
Twenty-Five
Freedom
When Dr. Worthington– Korbin, as he insisted I call him – said that he wanted to have lunch with me, I’d foolishly believed that we would go to one of the places on campus. Instead, we ended up at Teléferic Barcelona, a Spanish restaurant in Palo Alto. I hadn’t been here before, but I knew the prices were high.
I wondered if he’d chosen it because, like too many people born into money, he thought the more he paid, the better he looked. Of course, he might have decided on it when he’d met Karina in order to impress her. I honestly didn’t know which one would annoy me the most, but I wouldn’t show it either way.
Karina and I would have lunch and then leave in time for our next classes. The next time Korbin asked me to lunch, I could turn him down without looking like I was blowing him off. If I was very lucky, Karina’s very presence here would prevent him from thinking this was a date.