of my breast just so. “Does that bother you, little girl? Have you never pleasured yourself before?”
I swallow the uneasy lump in my throat, still uncertain why he’s brought me here or what he’s trying to prove.
“Of course, I have…” I turn my face away, embarrassed to admit this to him.
His finger lodges under my chin as he drags my gaze back to him.
“You’ve just never seen anyone else masturbate, is that it?”
“God no!”
It’s not like I’m completely sheltered or unaware of sexual acts. Growing up, on more occasions than I care to recount, I’d overheard my brother and my dad doing all sorts of loud, sexual things through the paper-thin walls of my bedroom. Sometimes, I knew they’d brought someone home to share their beds, but other times, I could hear the low sounds of whatever porn they were watching and the slick slapping of skin as they got themselves off.
Back then, it made me feel dirty and gross to know what they were doing.
But tonight, I wonder what it would feel like to do that. To be so exposed to a man. To have him watch me with the same lust in his eyes that these men have for these women.
“So, is this club for sex slaves or something?”
I lean into his hand that strokes over my hair, playing with the strands that have dislodged from my updo.
“We do not buy and sell here. Everyone here is eager and willing to share their sexual proclivities with others. They are all here on their own volition.”
He pushes back his chair and offers an outstretched hand to me.
“Let me enlighten you, Gemma.”
He takes me down the same hallway Roman disappeared into and steps around a black velvet partion. A large ornate door blocks entrance into wherever it leads, and a man stands in a booth in the wall.
“Good evening, sir. It’s good to see you tonight, Mr. Blake. It’s been awhile.”
“Hello Rodney. I’m taking Miss Phillips on back.”
“Very well. Has she signed the consent form and NDA? And shall I open a room? Perhaps the Lavender room, sir?”
Both men look at me as I have an answer to the question that I know nothing about.
Faron returns his attention to Rodney. “Perhaps another night. For now, it’s simply an introductory tour. I’ll have her complete the paperwork at a later time.”
“Excellent. Well, have a good evening, Mr. Blake and enjoy yourself. I hope to see you again, Miss Phillips.”
The door opens with a mechanical clang, a dark, omniscient noise as we enter. Faron grabs my hand and clasps his fingers through mine. It’s dark, save for the red lighting above each doorway and window, which casts a hazy light over the hallway. Because we’re still at the far end, I can’t see much of anything from this vantage point. Only a few people milling around the windows.
I choose this moment to ask a question. “Faron, why would I need to sign a consent form?”
He stops and whirls toward me, his head bent down close to my face.
“Gemma, to answer your earlier question, yes, the space we’ve entered now is a sex club called The Rough Edge. This is a private club, an offshoot of The Edge downstairs, which is public. It has exclusive membership and an exhaustive set of rules that everyone must follow. In order to gain admittance, a person must be invited, and there’s only a select few who receive an invitation. Participation is voluntary but requires a non-disclosure agreement and their consent. We don’t need sex slaves. We are all, essentially, slaves to sex.”
My legs tremble and knees buckle, and I know my face is flushing pink. Because I’m so naïve to this world of underground sex and kink – and for pity’s sake, still a virgin - I’m not really sure what everything he’s explained to me even means. I step back, my arms dangling at my side, giving myself some breathing room, and dare to look up at him.
He cups my face in his palms. “Let me show you what I want from you, little girl. What I want to do to you if you’ll let me. How I want to get off by sharing you in front of others who will watch you get fucked, by me and other men. Do you understand?”
Faron crowds me. Towers over me and uses his body as an effective method to gain my compliance, pressing me back into the door that’s now locked shut. The heat from his chest