Page 8

8

FAITH

T he night drifts on like a dream I don’t want to wake from.

My friends come and go from the knot-tying lesson in the other room, their laughter echoing faintly through the walls. Meanwhile, back in the loud room, a new scene is playing out.

This time, it’s the brunette who was patiently waiting her turn earlier. She’s up on the padded stool now—sandy blonde hair, black collar, big breasts, glasses, and a huge grin that never leaves her face.

Her bottom is already purpling.

She’s not as resilient as the first woman—she squeals louder, kicks more, flinches with every blow—but she doesn’t stop smiling.

I watch the same man work her over with various tools from his bag: a flogger, a rubber paddle, some kind of flexible plastic rod that makes a sharp, whippy sound through the air.

“Is she bleeding?” Thor murmurs beside me.

I lean closer, squint. “Nah, I think that’s just a blood blister.”

He laughs softly. “You say that like it’s totally normal.”

I chuckle too—because he’s right. At the start of the night, I was watching this like a car crash: horrified, unable to look away. Now… I’m just curious.

Maybe even a little turned on.

I shift my hand to adjust my tea and accidentally bump into his.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers slide into mine like it’s nothing.

But it’s not nothing.

It’s everything.

My heart stutters. I feel it in my throat, my chest, the pit of my stomach. Never in my life have I been this attracted to a complete stranger.

Let alone a stranger wearing a serial killer mask.

We sit like that, hand in hand, watching in silence.

Eventually, the scene winds down. The man drops his tools. The brunette rises slowly, stretching and smiling like she just left a spa, not a spanking session.

“Thank you for the experience,” she says, voice breathy but glowing.

Experience.

That word lingers.

This isn’t some sleazy hidden thing. It’s intentional. It’s chosen. It’s…something I don’t fully understand yet, but I want to.

I mean, it’s not like I’m about to ask some random guy to spank me tonight.

But one day, maybe.

With someone I trust.

Keith, I think.

But then— would Keith even understand this?

Would he get why it’s…beautiful?

Would he ever want to learn what I want?

Ugh. Why am I still thinking about Keith?

The ring’s in my purse. That’s where it’s staying.

“That’s incredible,” I whisper. “I mean, lesson number one in life is don’t hit people. And she just thanked him.”

“Sub space,” Thor says. “She’s high. On endorphins.”

The others return, ready to leave. It’s late—I don’t even know how late—but I’m not quite ready to go.

I spot the quartet who just finished the scene now chatting by the bar. I walk over while Maya grabs our coats.

“I like your collar,” I say to the blonde.

She beams. “Thanks. I had it engraved with ‘Kitten.’ I just hope the Etsy person didn’t know what it was for.”

“It’s very cute.”

She can’t stop smiling. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparkling.

“Are you going to be able to…sit tomorrow?”

She laughs. “Barely. And I can’t wait. I’ve got a fourteen-hour flight to India in the morning.”

My eyes go wide. “Wait… you’re going to be on a plane with that bruised a?—”

“Oh, yeah.” She leans in conspiratorially. “It’ll burn the whole flight. But in the best way.”

“So… the high. It’s real?”

“God, yes. I feel amazing right now.”

I glance toward the man who spanked her—he’s standing behind a woman in pink leather, his arm around her waist. He kisses her temple. She giggles.

“That was so much fun, baby.”

“Yes, it was.”

My curiosity gets the better of me. I step up and ask him, journalist mode engaged.

“So… they get a rush from it?”

“Endorphin flood,” he says, with a matter-of-fact shrug. “Feels fucking great. I mean, look at ’em.” He gestures toward the two women, both of whom are glowing with post-scene bliss. “Wish I could feel what they’re feeling. But it’s not the same for tops.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I’m just not a natural sub like they are. I get off on being in control.”

I think how that’s the same thing Thor said as I look at the two of them.

“So that gives them a total, unique body high.”

“Yup. You can’t get it anywhere else.” He shrugs. “I’m glad not everyone knows about it, though. Makes it a little more special. We’re gonna get out of here. Have a good night.”

“You too,” I wave as they leave. “Have a nice flight to India.”

The woman who was getting spanked when we first walked in has on high heels and a white and blue striped dress now. She must have gotten dressed. Not that there are locker rooms or something here.

She smirks deviously. “Oh, I will.” I never got the names of the rest of the group, which is fine. My curiosity is satisfied anyway. And after all, what happens here, stays here. We’re not meant to meet people from here outside of the club.

As I’m about to walk out looking for what’s keeping Maya, I bump into Thor again.

And I do mean bump. When I’m whirling around while looking for my friend, I don’t see him standing there and basically have the sensation of running into a muscular brick wall of flesh.

“Sorry!” I say, putting my hand on his chest.

When I touch him, I shiver with pleasure, and the desire for him to touch me back overcomes me.

My dream comes true when he takes hold of my upper arm with a steady, strong hand.

“You okay, Luna? Are you getting a contact high off of her endorphins or something?”

I laugh nervously.

“Me? Nah.”

His body presses against mine, and I feel drunk on his touch. It’s like no other body I’ve ever touched before. Did he say he plays flag football? He’s got to be as ripped as the athletes you see on TV.

“Damn,” He says jokingly, as he holds onto my body. I look up at him, wishing like hell I could see him without our masks.

“Hey, so…maybe I’ll see you here again?” I say. Was that just a gut reaction or do I really want to see him again?

“Are you coming back here?”

I grin. “I will if you promise to come back. We can watch another girl get spanked.”

“Well…I’m not sure if we’re supposed to do this, but what’s your number?” he says as we walk out.

“I don’t even know who you are,” I say.

“I’m Thor. And you’re Luna. And that’s all we know about one another at this point. So that makes two of us. And I want to stay friends with you.”

He makes a good argument. I give him my number once we’re outside, and he types it into his phone.

“Thanks, Luna. See you again, hopefully.”

“Yeah.” Something about his deep voice gives me chills.

He turns and walks away, getting in an Uber black.

Maya finds me, and we head toward everyone else already chilling by the car.

“So, how’d you like it?”

“Different than I thought. No pressure—just exploration.”

“See? Told you. So, when are you meeting up with the masked hottie?”

We get to the car and I take off my mask. Just then my phone lights up with a message from him.

Thor: Thanks for a lovely night, Luna.

Something warm coils inside me.

So Thor’s a gentleman at the same time that he carries those dirty thoughts with him?

Something tells me I need to proceed with caution.

For now, I head back to my parents’ house, and direct all of my friends to the barn, where they pass out in sleeping bags.

Luna: Thanks for being such a gentleman

Thor: Always

Luna: …

I stare at the screen, trying to figure out what to type next.

But I’m too flustered.

And too dead tired from tonight’s whirlwind adventure.

I toss the phone aside and crawl under the covers, my body still humming from everything I saw… and everything I felt .

Especially when Thor touched me.

His hand on my arm. His voice in my ear. His body against mine.

I close my eyes, but my mind won’t shut up.

What would his hands feel like on my bare skin?

What would he sound like if I wasn’t the only one flustered?

Eventually, sleep drags me under. But not before one final thought slips through.

We have to be at freaking church in five hours.