of smacking flesh and pleasured cries through the thick, fancy doors.
“Here are the private apartments,” Bruce says as Carla stops, indicating a door off to the right. “This is where... well, you can pretty much guess what goes on. These are safe places for the Dom and his Sub and where they can get to know each other's limits in private.”
There are men in dark suits lining the hallway, and they look like they mean business with their dark glasses and buzz cuts. It’s obvious they're here to make sure no one violates the rules.
As we move through the hallway, I hear more sounds of debauchery that make my pussy clench on air; the crack of a whip followed by a soft cry, and then more noises of smacking flesh as if a man’s low-hanging balls are smacking up against a wet pussy.
I want to be in there, I think to myself, my mind racing with base thoughts. Being dominated. My body tingles with anxiety and heated anticipation. I take in a staggered breath. Soon. I swallow thickly as my palms start to grow damp with perspiration. It’s overwhelming.
We reach the end of the hallway and then Bruce leads us down the steps into another corridor that lets out into a large room filled with Doms and Subs who are in the act of role-playing and even having all-out sex.
“This is the playroom,” Bruce says, nodding at the scene in front of us.
I hardly hear him. My eyes are on a Sub who's on her knees, being face fucked by a muscled, ripped, naked stud in a mask. He thrusts forward, forcing her to take all of his big cock to the ball sack, then he throws his head back, groaning with absolute pleasure.
Fuck, I say to myself as my pussy clenches repeatedly and my nipples stiffen like stone, that’s so fucking hot.
That dark act of being forced is what turns me on. It’s what I crave above all else. It used to shame me to my core, but now it’s the only way I can get off.
My breathing comes out in pants as I watch, imagining being taken by force by someone like this masked man.
“We should go back now,” Bruce informs me quietly, turning to me. He watches me with a keen eye, taking in my flushed cheeks and heavy breathing, and an amused smile touches the corner of his lips. “I’m ready to eat.”
I take deep, full breaths to calm my racing pulse and say nothing as Bruce leads us back to the dining room and to an empty table near the giant stage. As I take my seat, I notice several masked men’s eyes on me, staring me down as if they know I’ll be up for auction soon. My cheeks burn at their gazes, almost wishing one of them would come take me and relieve my throbbing pussy, but I ignore them. I know I’m not supposed to look at them unless they tell me to. Yet I feel that some of them sense the desire that burns in me, the need to be dominated. I wonder if it’s attracting them, like a moth to a flame.
A wave of anxiety washes over me. What if it’s one of these very men looking at me who buys me tonight? Will I be good enough for them? I'm sure that most of them are used to trained Submissives, but I'm new. I'll need to be taught, and I’ll have to learn how to properly behave.
Total surrender is all I need, I tell myself. The wants and needs of my Dom will be my wants and needs. His wishes are my command.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when a waitress dressed in a black uniform comes up with a gold-plated menu and sets it down in front of me and then looks at us expectantly. Bruce speaks first. “A dirty harry for my Carla,” he says smoothly, “and a shot of whiskey for me.” She nods, and turns to look at me.
“Just a water please,” I say, swallowing thickly. My nerves are getting the best of me. My hands are shaking. Soon I’ll be up for auction, and then I’ll be owned by someone. A stranger. I should drink to calm down, but I need my wits.
Carla waves away my concern. “You’re fine. You’re going to love this.”
That should soothe me, but it doesn’t. She has no idea why I’m on edge. Well maybe she has an inkling