Chapter 32 One
One
Emma sat nestled in the corner, sipping her chai latte.
She glanced up as the door opened for the twentieth time that hour.
A group of guys sauntered in, flushed and laughing, discussing an exam they’d just finished.
They were clean shaven and preppy, like an ad for a yacht.
Their eyes settled on her for a moment and then moved on as they surveyed the shop. It was full of studying coeds.
She glanced down at her class notes, trying to concentrate.
“Is this chair taken?”
She looked up, prepared to smile, and then realized it was one of the guys who’d just entered and he was looking for a chair to take so he could sit with his friends.
“No, please go ahead,” she said, dropping her gaze to her screen.
She really wished she’d made more friends at the beginning of first year.
Her closest friends at school had both gone.
One had failed three of her four classes first semester—too many missed lectures from hangovers.
The other had been bipolar and had had to take a break from the pressure or risk becoming unbalanced.
Emma wanted her to be okay, but it was also painful to lose the girls she’d bonded with during her first days on campus.
Emma still had other friends, but they were the type she chatted with in the dorm hallway or tagged along with to parties.
Not close ones. She grimaced, thinking about the frat party she’d left the night before.
It had been so loud, so crowded. Everyone drunk.
A pair of slender girls in micro-mini-skirts dancing on the pool table had become the main attraction.
The women Emma had arrived with had all managed to meet guys, but Emma, in wallflower mode, had gone relatively unnoticed.
She continued to study. When she looked up again, rain misted the windows and twilight had arrived.
A message from the KC Club pinged her non-university email account. The KC was short for Kink-Curious. The club had been started by a group of girls—or at least she believed they were girls. Online, you never really knew who you were talking to. None of them used their names.
Emma was CB, Cherry Blossom. She opened the email and read the post.
Hi, KC Club:
I have a message for a girl who may be a member of this group. She wore a pink dress last night while browsing at Lady Oh’s around ten.
His kitten
Connected to the net from a coffee shop while using an anonymous Gmail account seemed safe enough to answer a message on the loop.
Emma hit reply to sender, so it would only go to the person who’d sent the message to the group.
Hey, HK,
I wore a pink dress and shopped off campus last night. There was only one other person in the store while I was there, though. Was that you?
CB
Hi CB,
No, we didn’t meet. I passed you on the sidewalk near the ice cream shop a few doors down. I went to Lady Oh’s to pick something up and spoke to Kira. She said you’d considered buying a DVD I’d mentioned on the loop a couple of weeks ago. Let’s Get Kinky?
Hk
Emma paused, glancing up to be sure no one nearby could read her screen. She tipped it down farther and leaned toward her laptop.
Hk, I’m not sure whether I’m the girl you saw. You mentioned that you wanted to give the girl in pink a message. What’s the message? CB
CB, Have you heard of the Marquis Club? Hk
Emma’s brow quirked. Yes, she’d heard of it.
Everyone on the KC loop had heard of it.
A secret BDSM sex club. Members only. The male members—she smiled at the pun—were reportedly all Ivy League or former Ivy League, all rich, and all extremely powerful.
Of course, you couldn’t believe rumors. Anything that sounded too good to be true generally was.
Hk, I doubt there’s anyone in KC who hasn’t heard of the Marquis Club. CB
CB, I would like to extend an invitation to you on behalf of the club. If you’re interested, I’ll arrange your visit. Hk
A hoax. It had to be.
She looked around, her gaze darting from one student to the next.
Was it someone in the coffee shop? Could it be her ex-boyfriend, Philly?
She’d never told him about the Kink-Curious club, but she’d caught him checking her browser history once when she’d left her computer open.
She always tried to use private browsing when she researched sex topics.
She also didn’t store passwords on her computer, but maybe her email had been open?
Philly had been such a snoop. She frowned.
She didn’t miss him; he’d been insecure and high maintenance, but she missed having a boyfriend to do things with.
Hk, If there actually is a Marquis Club, which I doubt, I’m sure someone like me would not be invited to visit. CB
Now who’s insecure, she thought with a grimace.
Emma was a size fourteen, sometimes sixteen, and she tried, with varying success, to accept herself as she was, but she doubted a group of rich, Ivy League grads were looking for her.
Wouldn’t they want thin beauty queen, trophy wives?
Or perhaps, fit, preppy girls from their own privileged circle?
Plus-sized middle-class Emma from Akron, Ohio didn’t fit that bill.
CB, You’re wrong! Tastes vary among club members. I assure you, you’re the exact physical type several of our members prefer. Let’s speak in person. Hk
Hk, I’d need a lot more information before I’d agree to meet you. Where is the club? What’s expected of a female visitor? Would I have to come alone? CB
Anyone on the KC loop would jump at the chance to join her on a tour of the Marquis Club, assuming they could be sure it was safe to set foot inside.
CB, I can’t discuss club business via email. The only reason I contacted you this way is because I didn’t have an alternative. Hk
Hk, I don’t feel comfortable setting up a meeting. CB
CB, I understand. Take care, Hk
Emma stared at the email for several moments before closing the lid of her laptop. It was a trick. Even granting that it was possible that some of the Marquis members might want a voluptuous coed to fool around with, why Emma? Of all the girls on campus?
But of course, not all the girls on campus would want to go to the Marquis Club.
Emma had been browsing in a shop that specialized in sex toys.
Emma had joined a loop for young women curious about BDSM.
Didn’t it make sense that if the Marquis Club was looking for female coeds, she might be the right person to invite?
By the time she got home, she’d convinced herself that it was possible, though still pretty unlikely, that the club existed and that someone from it had contacted her.
Should she go somewhere public to send another email so it didn’t come from her own IP address? No, the dorm was anonymous enough. She sat at her desk and tugged the screen up.
Hk, Too late to reconsider? I think I would like to meet you, provided we do it somewhere public. If you know the campus, how about tomorrow in front of Durfee’s Sweet Shoppe? Maybe after lunch? 1 p.m.? CB
There was no response. Was His kitten offline? And good grief, that username. Fairly blatant, but intriguing, too. She wondered about the His who owned kitten. Not just a boyfriend. An owner.
A shiver coursed through Emma.
Then, she frowned at herself. Ownership was not was she was looking for. She just wanted to experiment with certain things during sex. Right?
Chewing on her lip, she shook her head. Honesty, she didn’t really know what she wanted. That was the point.
Whatever the case regarding Hk and the secret club, Emma couldn’t afford to stand around all night wondering. She had studying to do.
She grabbed her laptop and dropped onto the bed. She opened her notes and tried to focus. Easier said than done.
At three in the morning when Emma woke to go to the bathroom, she checked her email.
CB, 1 outside Durfee’s is great. I’ll find you. Can’t wait, Hk
Oh my God, Emma thought. This could actually be happening.