Mine

23. Pepper

TWENTY-THREE

PEPPER

The Garden was a two-story club with an entrance down a set of dimly lit stairs. The door was painted scarlet with flowers trailing over it. A large menacing man stood in front of it. He was well over six feet tall, with countless scars and tattoos. He raised a brow as Salt pulled me close to him, leading me down the stairs.

“Salt, a very honored guest,” the man said. “Are you here to teach? You’re early. People are just starting to arrive.”

Salt shook his head. “For play, Boy. This is my partner. I want her to have a red band for no-touching, and we need masks. I will also take a red band. This is her first time.”

The man— boy? —nodded. “Of course, Sir.”

“Is your Mistress here tonight?”

“She is. Queen Nancy is too, by the way.”

Salt groaned. “Damn it. Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

I frowned in confusion. “Who is that?” I asked.

“My mother,” he sighed.

My mouth dropped. “ What ?”

“Don’t worry, she’s not actually my mother. We have an agreement with Mistress and Boy that they inform us when the other is present. We’ll avoid wherever she’s playing.”

“Playing?” I asked.

“Engaging in kinky things,” he clarified. “Like a scene.”

I didn’t know what to say. All of this was so new to me. “We don’t have to go in if that makes you uncomfortable.”

His laugh warmed me, and he gave my hip a gentle squeeze. “No, we are going in. Boy will get our masks and bands.”

The man nodded and opened the door for us. I hesitated for a moment, peering through the doorway. The entry looked dark, music echoing from within. Salt gave me a gentle push and I stepped through the threshold, immediately moving to the side.

“Is your name really Boy?” I asked the man curiously.

“It is right now,” Salt said gently. “His name is Boy. He belongs to his Mistress.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have asked that.”

The man smiled patiently. “No worries at all. Welcome to The Garden. Thank you for being our guest. You’re in good hands.” His gaze flickered to Salt as the door shut behind him, and I could have sworn it was a look of lust.

Of course, I could see why.

I looked up at Salt as Boy disappeared behind the dark curtain. He looked at peace here, beautiful and strong, at home amongst the shadows and undertones of lust. He smirked and looked down at me.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

My stomach fluttered in response. “I am. I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

“You’re safe,” he promised.

“I know. I’m with you.”

His smirk softened and he hummed, sliding his hand into my hair and giving me a kiss. I melted against him, moaning as our kiss deepened.

A throat cleared, but he didn’t pull away immediately. He kissed me deeper for a few seconds longer before drawing back.

“Fuck,” I whispered, completely dazed.

That kiss left me breathless and aching for more.

“I see why you want the band,” Boy chuckled.

“She’s mine,” Salt said simply, taking a red bracelet from him, along with two masks.

“I have some forms for you to fill out,” Boy said. “They’re waivers and rules. If you have any questions, I’m certain Salt can answer them.”

He nodded. “Thank you for your service.”

Boy dipped his head and went back out the front door, his voice carrying as he greeted whoever waited on the other side.

“Hold out your wrist,” Salt said.

I did as he asked, my pulse racing as his fingers grazed my skin. He put the red band around my wrist, taking his time. Then, he held up a black, masquerade-style mask.

“There are rules in this place,” he said. “No photos. No filming. No sharing people’s information. If you see someone you know, do not use their real name if you approach them.”

I winced. “I hope I don’t see anyone I know.”

“Well, you can always ignore them if you do. You’ll be masked, so I don’t think anyone will bother you. And you’ll be with me.” He reached up and placed the mask on me, tugging at my hair until he let out a hum of appreciation. “Beautiful, as always. And I can still see your cheeks when you blush.”

I gave his chest a playful slap, but he caught my hands, bringing my knuckles to his lips.

“If you need to leave at any point, you will let me know,” he said seriously. “If anything is too much or makes you uncomfortable, you will let me know. And if something turns you on, makes you wet, you will let me know. Understood?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good. Read through the papers, sign them, and we’ll go in.”

I took the papers over to a small table while Salt fit his mask over his face. More patrons flowed into the venue, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at them. I felt very out of place in the blouse and skirt I’d picked, given that they were all wearing more revealing outfits.

But Salt had told me to wear this. I trusted that he had a reason for it.

I read through the papers. The rules felt common sense, but I knew not everyone had the gift of that. No touching without consent, don’t interrupt scenes, zero tolerance for homophobia and racism. If you heard the word ‘red,’ notify one of the dungeon masters floating around. Each one wore a bright orange safety vest, so they couldn’t be missed. No blood play and no bodily fluids.

The bands that people wore told you what they were open to. Red meant no touching under any circumstances, and you belonged to someone. Green meant you were open to playing with others, or were searching for someone to play with. Yellow meant open to free use.

“How does free use work here?” I asked Salt.

“I’ll show you once we get inside,” he said.

I nodded, my nerves settling a little. I was still apprehensive, but I wasn’t the same Pepper of a couple weeks ago. I’d learned a lot about the BDSM community and I knew that consent was key. I knew that Salt was here with me, and that really, tonight was about being a fly on the wall.

The idea of being watched while Salt played with me turned me on.

Once I had everything signed, he plucked the papers from my fingers and slid behind the black curtain Boy had gone behind earlier. Within a moment, he returned.

“Do you work here?” I asked.

“Occasionally,” he said. “When I first joined the community, it was through Nancy.”

“Your mother …”

He chuckled, his hand clasping my elbow and gently steering me down a hallway. We followed other people as they flowed out into a massive room. The ceilings were high and the lighting a pattern of white, blue, and purple. It was already full of people milling around watching different scenes that were taking place. Along the walls and at the center there were different pieces of equipment such as St. Andrew’s Crosses, benches, and what appeared to be a rig for suspension. I took it all in, my mind racing as I realized just how much someone could do here.

“Nancy and Beth are a couple who saved me. When I ran away from home, I didn’t have any money or any sort of job.”

“How old were you?” I asked, frowning. We were learning so much about each other today. I wanted to know everything I could about him, even though it was a bad idea. All of this was a bad idea, but I was struggling to care anymore.

“I was seventeen when I left. And eighteen when I met Nancy. I went to a sleazy place that has since been shut down due to consent violations and a lot of other issues. A man offered me a lot of money to fuck him. I was going to do it, I needed the money, but she intervened. And don’t get me wrong, we all support sex work here. But that would not have been a good situation at all. I ended up going home with her and they fed me, clothed me, gave me a place to sleep where I didn’t have to be scared.” His expression glazed over as he guided me to a platform with a small table and chairs. He pulled one out for me. “Sit.”

I slid into the chair and thought he would take the other, but instead he moved close, sliding one arm around me and taking my face with his hand. He turned my attention across the room to where a woman was being tied down to a red bench.

“She’s wearing a yellow band,” he said softly. “The man tying her down is there for her safety and probably her Dom. Who knows? I can’t make assumptions.”

People crowded around her as the man finished tying her down. She was laid face down on the bench, her ankles spread and bound to two points, her wrists tied to the other two points. The man rose up and reached for the hem of her dress, tugging it back until her ass and pussy were exposed to the entire club.

She was beautiful.

My breath caught as I watched, completely entranced. Salt traced circles over my spine with his finger as he watched me . Not her, not anyone else in the club. Not the gorgeous woman with her beautiful ass and pussy out for everyone to see.

Me.

His devoted attention stroked something inside of me, something hot and needy.

“Spread your legs, baby girl,” he whispered.

I did as he asked, biting my lower lip. The brief pain awakened something deeper. His calloused hand gripping my jaw slid down my neck, down my chest, trailing all the way down to my skirt.

How many times had I worn this skirt to work?

It wasn’t anything special. But the way his fingers grazed the tops of my thighs as he tugged the hem back made it feel like the sexiest thing I owned.

I watched as the woman’s presumed Dom cut her panties away with scissors. A couple of men waited patiently, but they were clearly ready for whatever was about to happen.

“Fuck,” I rasped as Salt’s fingertips brushed against my panties.

“What do you think?” he murmured against my ear.

I watched her Dom yank his belt free and unbutton his pants, pushing them down far enough that his cock sprang free. My mouth fell open in shock as he lined himself up with her, thrusting inside her pussy in one smooth motion. Her yell echoed through the entire club.

Like a siren crying out into the night, it broke whatever tension or hesitance there was in the crowd. I watched as other areas that were designated for play were slowly taken over by more people. My heart thumped as his fingers moved my panties to the side.

The same fingers that slid up and down his guitar effortlessly strummed my clit. My breath squeezed out of me, electric tingles bouncing through my body.

I knew how aroused I felt, but didn’t realize how wet I already was until his fingers slid into me with ease. He let out a low growl, pushing them deeper.

“Oh baby,” he purred. “You’re soaked. Such a needy little cunt.”

“Oh god,” I whined. Panic whipped through me as more people walked past us. “Can you do this here? In front of people?”

“I can,” he said. “Fuck, you’re wet. Keep watching, baby girl.”

I couldn’t look away unless he forced me too. A soft moan parted my lips as his fingers worked my pussy, my gaze locked on the woman tied down to the bench. Her Dom finished inside her, but he was replaced with the next in line.

“Is that safe?” I rasped.

“They’re all wearing condoms. It’s part of the rules here,” Salt said. “Everyone should be tested before an event like this too if playing with multiple people. Sexual health and safety are taken seriously in spaces like this.”

I swallowed hard. I’d watched porn like this before. But seeing it in real life while Salt fucked me with his fingers was entirely different. I felt naughty. I felt a little crazed.

I felt good .

Salt gripped the back of my neck, the pressure firm. Commanding. My gaze slid to him, tracing his expression. His dark brows, amber eyes, the feral hunger that mirrored what raged inside me.

I was his to use and play with and it made me feel wanted. Desired.

The pleasure was almost too much. I rocked my hips, fighting to not make any sounds. People walked past us, occasionally looking, but it was dark so I knew they couldn’t see that I was riding his hand.

Or maybe they could.

Maybe they could see how slutty I was. How desperate.

Salt’s older woman.

I was doing the exact fucking thing I’d been saying I wouldn’t do. I’d willingly come to a sex club with him and now I was wrapped around his hand. His to play with. His to fuck.

It was so bad. But it felt so good.

My pussy clenched around his thick fingers, whimpering.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asked.

“Um…”

I could barely think. I looked around the room, my eyes widening further. A man was strapped to a giant X and was being flogged. Then there was someone on a table with something that looked like a wand shooting out electricity. The violet wand? Right? I’d read about it…

My gaze continued to roam until I saw a wooden pillory. A person was locked inside of it, their expression contorted in pleasure as the person behind them fucked them relentlessly, their yells blending into the cacophony of pleasure and heavy club music. Smoke shimmered in the room, purple spotlights beacons of carnality.

A staircase at the very back seemed to lead to more.

“What’s on the second floor?” I asked.

“That floor is for fucking,” he said. “There are beds.”

“Just… beds for anyone…” My words grew faint as his fingers curled against the perfect spot. I couldn’t stifle my groan and forgot about everything else, my eyes closing as I rode his fingers, my orgasm just out of reach.

Salt pulled his hand free and my eyes flew open.

“What the fuck?” I moaned. “I was so close?—”

The two fingers he’d nearly made me come with slid between my lips.

“Suck,” he demanded.

The taste of myself was sweet. Despite the flash of irritation I felt from not being able to come, I sucked his fingers dutifully, cleaning them with my tongue. I held his gaze, scowling as best as I could.

Salt tugged them free and tipped my chin up. “Good. You never answered me, though. Who did you enjoy watching the most?”

“It’s hard to pick,” I said. “The pillory… and the violet wand…”

He nodded. “Let’s go take a closer look.”

He didn’t let me get up myself. Instead, his hands slid beneath my armpits and he lifted me, setting my feet on the floor. My head fell back as I looked up at him, taking in the breadth of his shoulders.

Salt lingered for a moment and then slid his hand into mine. His calluses were rough against my palm as he led me through the growing crowd.

Everywhere I looked, I found something interesting and arousing to see.

And no one was judging others.

Everyone here wanted to be fucked. They wanted to be needed.

Just like me.

I turned my attention back to Salt as he led me across the room. Just like on stage with a guitar in hand, people seemed to gravitate toward him wherever he went. They wanted to know him, and he paid them no mind. In fact, he seemed to ignore anyone who tried to get his attention.

The purple lights splashed over his pale skin, tattoos peeking out. I looked to my left and paused, catching a glimpse of two people on their knees, the snap of a leather flogger against skin drawing my attention. His hand tightened on mine, but he paused too.

“Want to watch them?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, intrigued. “Please.”

“Tell me what about it turns you on,” he instructed.

I watched for a moment, trying to understand it. The couple on their knees were blindfolded and bound, moans and cries drawn forth with every strike of the flogger. A woman in a latex suit wielded it with a fluid ease that spoke of practice and knowledge, her attention on her submissives and nothing else.

It was the attention. It was knowing that the two people on their knees were having their desires fulfilled.

I looked up at Salt. “I like how… devoted it feels.”

“I see. What else?”

“I like that they’re being watched, but all of their attention is on what’s happening. And well, they’re all very attractive.”

He beamed. “They are. Would you ever want to be with another person?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, casting the three another glance. “I like watching. I liked watching the woman with the free use band, too. But, I want to belong to one person. And I want them to belong to me. Is that bad?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so. I feel the same way.” He glanced up at the scene, watching for a few moments before looking back down at me. “I couldn’t share you with someone else. I’m too possessive. Obsessive.”

“Are you obsessed with me?” I teased.

Salt nodded. “You know I am.”

It would pass, wouldn’t it? Eventually he’d go out on the road. He’d see the world, meet people who would worship him and his music.

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I was just thinking… Maybe I’m a little obsessed with you too. For better or worse.”

His gaze darkened, swallowing me whole.

I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him. He yanked me against him, his hands exploring my body. I felt a sense of freedom in that. In being able to give myself to him in front of everyone.

I wanted more. Maybe it was because we’d kept everything a secret up until now, because I was trying to protect my company and his career.

Being able to kiss him out in the open meant more than anything else did to me at the moment.

He drew back, breathless. Then, he gently grabbed my chin and turned my head.

“Watch them.”