Chapter 2
JESSICA
Music pulses under my feet, pouring out of the unassuming building in front of me. It’s a sensation more than an actual auditory experience. From the outside, La Petite Douleur looks more like a French restaurant or bistro than a sex club.
Others climb out of sleek cars and make their way over, their elegant dresses and suits more suitable for the red carpet than the debauchery that apparently awaits us.
Their masks glitter in the glow of the neon sign blinking from up high and the various lights shining around us, making them look as if they’re encrusted with diamonds. In comparison, I look plain and drab.
The mask is one Kessily let me borrow and is nothing more than a cheap Halloween piece of plastic held together with an elastic cord. My dress is whatever is clean and not wrinkled. Not like them.
Thankfully, Kessily looks about the same, so I won’t stand out too much. Glancing over, I jerk my head toward the entrance where The Elegants, as I call them in my head, make their grand entrance. They seem to float on air, just exuding money and class. Definitely not like Kessily and me.
Nervousness trickles down my spine as I tug on my simple clothes. “How much does it cost to join this club, anyway? I didn’t think we made enough for all that.”
Kessily follows my gaze and gives a soft chuckle. A soft sigh drifts from her lips as she shakes her head. “Don’t let them fuck with your mind too much. Not everyone looks like that. They like to show off. It’s part of their kink, I guess. What you’re wearing is just fine.”
Again, I tug at the cheap fabric and frown. “I don’t know… They seem like they fit here. Not like me at all.”
Turning, she plants her hands on her hips before letting out a sound that’s not quite a growl, but not friendly either—exasperated is more like it.
“Look, I’m not here to set you up for failure.
We look the same. It’s not like this place has a set dress code.
You have to look presentable for the people outside.
Basically no wearing fetish clothes or showing up naked.
But once you’re inside, anything goes. There’s nothing saying you have to wear elegant clothes. Just come as you are.”
“I suppose…”
“Look, they come here pretty often, so I know them well. They get off on the high-end side of things. I’m pretty sure any play equipment they have at their house is probably hewn from solid mahogany or something.
Please. Trust me. If I can afford this place, so can you.
That is, if you want to join after tonight. This visit is on the house.”
Dread drips down my spine as I watch them make their way to the door. They’re so perfect, so elegant. Everything I wanted to be but could never have. My stomach twists as Kessily threads her arm through mine and drags me toward the door.
“Honestly,” she continues. “It’s what I love about this place.
Everyone is accepted, rich and poor alike.
Behind these doors, we’re all equals. The man you saw sporting the Rolex and tux will soon be on his hands and knees, begging to be whipped.
The woman next to him will be doing the disciplining.
Before the night is over, their third will probably be spit roasted like the dirty little whore she likes to be. ”
My eyes widen as I follow their movements, noting the reservation and absolute elegance in their stance.
Nothing about them speaks to anything so deviant.
But I suppose it’s the facade they wear.
If I passed them on the street, I’d think they were heading to an opera or a soiree.
I certainly wouldn’t dream of anything as depraved as all this.
As if she can sense my unease, Kessily wraps her arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. And once we’re inside, you’ll see they’re the exception and not the rule. Their scenes are spectacular, though, so don’t let the little green monster keep you from watching them.”
The doors part, but instead of people hanging from the rafters and fucking every which way, there’s a nice bar and restaurant. Narrowing my eyes, I look at the people milling about or sitting and having a drink. Nothing about them looks out of the ordinary.
“Okay. Is this a big joke? Did you lie to me to get me to come try out some new restaurant instead of stuffing my face with ice cream? I mean, I’m not complaining, but…”
“But?” she teases, giving me a wink. “Disappointed or relieved?”
“A little of both, I guess? ”
“IDs and membership cards.” A burly man holds out his hand, looking every inch a refined bouncer.
Again, that sinking feeling churns in my gut. Digging around in my purse, I hold out my license along with Kessily.
“And here’s my membership card,” she chirps, tapping the laminate with a perfectly manicured nail. “She’s my plus one for the evening.”
She elbows me in the side, and that’s when I notice her mask is up. My fingers tremble as I lift mine as well. Until now, I didn’t realize just how much I enjoyed the anonymity of having part of my face concealed.
He squints at my license and holds it up, comparing my face to the sad picture. “Skill level.”
“Pardon?” I choke out, bringing my mask back down. “Are you asking how good I am at sex?”
Next to me, Kessily snorts, not even trying to contain her laughter. “She’s a complete newb,” she chuckles, ignoring my glare.
“And you vouch for her?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fill this out.” He hands me a clipboard and motions to a nearby table.
As I look over the form, everything seems standard. At least, I can only assume, since this is my first time at a sex club. Thankfully, they don’t ask any personal questions. It’s mostly non-disclosure statements and things to cover their asses if something goes wrong.
The bouncer looks it over for a moment, and as his gaze touches on each section, I can’t help but feel like I’m being personally judged. After several moments, he seems to be satisfied, but still gives a heavy sigh as he hands us a wristband .
“Two drink maximum for all players. If you wish to drink more, your playing privileges will be revoked, and you’ll only be allowed to observe and not join in.
As you read and signed, we do not allow impaired individuals to play.
That includes other substances as well. If we have any doubt of your sobriety and ability to make informed choices, you will not be allowed to participate in anything. ”
Swallowing, I look back over at the bar. Perhaps if I get myself shit-faced, I won’t have to even try anything tonight. But then, the whole point of me coming here is to lose my virginity to a man of my choosing. Can’t do that if I’m not allowed to play.
As I slip my band on, the bouncer continues, pointing to a couple of small divots mostly hidden from view.
“The bartender will punch these holes each time you purchase a drink. In the event you choose to go over your maximum, he will remove the band and give you a bright green one, indicating you are an observer only.”
I hold my wrist up next to Kessily’s and note the dark black rubber nearly blending in with her arm in the dim lighting. It’s a stark contrast from the pale pink standing out like a virginal siren against my skin. Great. Now everyone will know just how innocent I am.
“The color indicates you’re not only new to this club, but new to the scene,” he states before waving us away. “Don’t read too much into it.” His tone is abrupt, but at least I get to scuttle away from his intimidating gaze.
At least that explains the coloration and isn’t some siren indicating the cobwebs I have growing between my thighs. Attempting to distract myself, I grab Kessily’s arm and turn it this way and that, looking at the dark band. “Damn. You’re a kinky fucker then. Aren’t you? ”
“Have I ever said otherwise? Come on! I wanna show you the actual club!”
She tugs on my arm, the enthusiasm fairly vibrating off of her as she pulls me along. Unfortunately, I need at least a dash of liquid courage before entering the kinky depths of this place.
“Or,” I groan, pulling back a touch. “And hear me out. I get a drink first?” With a sigh, she drops my hand and motions toward the mahogany bar. “So magnanimous of you,” I tease before turning to the bartender to put in my order. “I’ll have a-”
“She’ll have whatever has the least amount of alcohol because my girl here is a lightweight.”
My face screws up into a glare as I shoot her a dirty look. “I’m not a lightweight.”
“Says the girl who passes out after taking some nighttime cough medicine.”
“It’s supposed to put you to sleep. That’s its job.”
“Ladies,” the bartender interrupts, her soft chuckle barely audible over the din. “All our drinks are pretty tame. So just tell me what you want.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Kessily waves. “I’m just here for moral support.”
“I’ll have whatever tastes the least like alcohol.”
“Got it. One water and one mudslide coming up.” She motions for my wrist and slides a punch between the rubber and my skin.
One drink down and one more to go. Nursing my mudslide, I watch as others come in, all of them different and unique. Though the masks make it harder to tell exactly what type of person I’m looking at, it’s easy to discern age and gender for the most part .
More people stroll in, dripping in finery, while the majority look more like Kessily and me. That’s a relief at least. I now know I won’t be alone looking like I shopped at some discount kink store.
Next to me, Kessily drums her fingers on the bar and jumps around in her seat. She’s so very excited while I’m still trying to gather the courage just to get up and go face my fears. It’s so easy for her that she doesn’t seem to understand that I’m scared shitless.
Not only is it terror at the idea of trying something new but also knowing before tonight is over, I’ll no longer be a virgin. It feels enormous, and yet, so many have already lost theirs and not given it a second thought.