His Rules (Den of Sin #1)
Chapter 1
ELLA
Irush home, ignoring the text messages from Elodie as I’m pelted with rain. I’m sure she’s still upset about not making it home for Christmas. She goes home to Montreal every year for a few weeks, and this is the first time she’ll miss it, since all the flights have been canceled.
Making it inside my apartment building, I wipe the rain from my forehead and dig for my keys.
“Is it raining?” Mrs. Wilson asks, as she checks her mail. I fight myself not to roll my eyes at her.
Obviously, it’s raining.
“Sure is,” I say, trying to conceal my annoyance.
I open my mailbox to grab the stack of mail, before heading to the elevator and take it to the sixth floor.
Opening my door, I step inside and shut it quickly, before tossing my mail on the black granite kitchen island with a sigh.
I love my apartment, but I live far beyond my means.
Glancing at the window, I smile. This view is the reason I spend seventy percent of my pay on rent.
Walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, I take in the Las Vegas skyline.
To the left of the windows, there’s a door that leads to my balcony, but I hate the rain.
I walk over to check my mail. Most of it is junk, but a black envelope with my name, Ella Jacobs, on it catches my eye.
I open it, and run my finger over the gold lining on the inside of the envelope.
It feels expensive. Pulling out the card, a paper falls to the floor as I read the confusing invitation.
The honor of your presence is requested at A Night of Sin on the twenty-fourth of December, at the Den of Sin.
Bending down, I grab the paper that fell and read it.
Ella,
Should you accept my invitation, please text 515-766-6969.
Your clothing will be delivered on December 23rd. You should have also received paperwork to sign. A courier will pick it up, once you inform me it’s ready. I look forward to finally meeting you.
L
What the hell? I try to think of everyone I know that has a name that starts with L, and come up empty. I knew a Larry in third grade, but I doubt this is him.
I go to call Elodie and get her opinion, but decide against it. She will tell me exactly what I’m already thinking.
Throw it away.
Instead, I search for this mysterious paperwork, and gasp as I stare at the words. Beside each section, it has a spot to check either hard limit, which says I’ll never do it, and then; no, maybe, and yes.
“What the actual fuck?” I say out loud to myself.
Hard Limits
Armbinders
Breast Bondage
Blindfolds
Bondage Light
Bondage Heavy
Chains (bound with)
Cuffs - Leather
Cuffs - Metal
Cuffs - Handcuff Style
Ear plugs (sound deprivation)
Gags
Ball Gags
Bit Gags
Cloth Gags
Inflatable Gags
Phallic Gags
Ring Gags
Tape
Immobilisation Leash
Leather Restraints
Manacles & Irons
Mummification
Muzzles
Rope Bondage
Simple Rope Bondage
Intricate (Shibari)
Spreader Bars
Stocks (head & hands)
Straight Jackets
Suspension
Upright Suspension
Horizontal Suspension
Inverted
Creampie Cum
In Ass Cum
In Mouth Cum
In Vagina Cum
On Body Cutting
Blood Play
Golden Showers (urinate on)
I stop reading because again, what the actual fuck? Who is this guy? Against my better judgement, I text the number.
Me: Who the hell are you?
Strange Man: L
Me: …
Strange Man: Should you accept my invitation, you’ll find out who I am. I won’t hurt you. You’ll be safer than you’ve ever been. Your consent will be required every step of the way. Anything you don’t agree to is off the table.