down a walkway on the right side. There’s security detail as we leave the dining hall and go to the hallway where the rest of the club awaits. They check our bracelets and nod as we go through. Their presence only adds to the tension in the pit of my stomach. Bruce splays his hand on the small of Carla’s back, and she looks up at him with obvious appreciation. My gait is awkward as several masked men turn their heads my way, their eyes boring into me. I feel self-conscious under their gaze, unsure about my place here. These are powerful men--doctors, CEOs, lawyers, senators, and I’m just some silly girl whose problems have led her here. But they don’t need to know that. No one needs to know the reason I’m here.
I'm searching for a man of power to take control of me. To help me take control of my past. That’s exactly what I need.
A dark feeling presses down on my chest as horrible images flash in front of my eyes. I do my best to push them away. I don’t want to think about it. I came here to heal this darkness. This is going to help me. I know it will. I need this.
“How many of these men did you say work in government?” I whisper to Carla as Bruce leads us along, tearing my eyes away from those dangerous masked gazes and thinking of anything I can to ignore the stir of anxiety in my belly. Of all the men that Carla claims are members of the club, none seem more taboo than the ones holding public office. The risk of scandal is more substantial with these men, and I’m sure it makes the thrill of being with them all the greater.
“I’m not sure,” Carla replies out of the side of her mouth, and I have to strain my ears to hear. “Just remember, the person that becomes your Dom could be anyone. A CEO, doctor, lawyer, governor, congressman, senator-”
“Even the president?” I interrupt. It’s partly a joke, but the humor isn’t evident in my voice. Mostly because of my nerves.
Carla pauses as if shocked, then shakes her head and chuckles softly. “No... at least…” a look of uncertainty comes over her face and she concludes, “I don’t think so.”
If the President of the United States is a member of Club X, I think to myself, then this entire country is going straight to hell.
I have no idea who's going to buy me. Every fucking time I signed a piece of paper to be included in the auction tonight, it nearly made me sick. I'm so anxious and worried. Anyone can buy me. At the same time, it's exhilarating. The only thing that keeps me from freaking the fuck out is knowing that all of my preferences, my hard and soft limits—meaning things I will not do and things I might try—are all in the contract. The contract itself was sixty pages long. Every possible detail and interaction between the buyer and submissive was included. And it must all be followed to the letter as to what my preferences are. The club is strict about filling out all the paperwork Madam Lynn emailed me. Plus, talking to her and Carla gives me faith that this is going to be the fantasy that I want and not some fucked up horror flick.
“Here’s the Sex and Submission store,” Carla says, gesturing as Bruce stops us in front of an opening into a large room along the wall. Inside, there are rows of shelves filled with all sorts of sex toys and BDSM devices. There are dildos, whips, chains, ropes, nipple clamps, elegant butt plugs and every kind of sexual toy you could imagine. I watch as several Doms walk around with their chained Subs, picking out their toys of choice to be used on them later. “Obviously, you’ll be making stops here in the future. Just don’t get too carried away.” There’s humor in her voice and I appreciate it, although I still feel muted in my excitement. My inexperience in this new environment is making me tense, and I feel overly self-conscious.
We continue on the tour and Bruce leads us upstairs through a long hallway filled with rooms on either side. Like the floor below, the hall is filled with opulence, with the same lush carpeting, beautiful painted walls, luxury furniture and upscale art pieces.
As we pass each room, I can faintly hear the sounds