69. Chapter 67
Emery
It only takes me a few wobbly steps to find Madam Devangeline.
If our meeting had a set time, I would have believed that her seating arrangements were intentional.
But since she had no idea if or when I would turn up, I’m just going to have to go with this being my dumb luck.
Because of course she is sitting exactly where Derek had, on the overstuffed, ostentatious leather couches.
Dommy couches.
That’s what they were.
Madam Devangeline has her heeled feet up on a footrest that wasn’t there last time while she leans back on the couch, a laptop on her lap, concentration locked on the screen as she types away.
Her auburn hair is pulled up into a styled-messy bun, and whatever she has done with her makeup makes her look like a pinup model from the fifties.
Not to mention the cat’s-eye black-rimmed glasses.
Taking a deep breath in a completely useless attempt to settle my nerves, I force myself to continue toward her. When I’m only a few feet from the couch, and before I can make myself known, Madam Devangeline holds her hand up in a stop gesture.
I halt mid-step and kind of awkwardly bring my feet together, hoping she can’t hear the beating of my heart the way I can.
And then I wait.
And wait some more.
She continues to work for several minutes as I stand there, waiting, tension slowly increasing. Her ruby-red nails clack against the keys as her fingers fly over the keyboard, finishing whatever it is she is doing.
Those nerves I tried to settle? Yeah, they are freaking the fuck out right now.
Is she angry that I left it so late?
Oh shit, was I supposed to reply to her message? There is no way she doesn’t know that I at least read it, since I have read receipts turned on.
Swallowing, I lace my fingers together in front of me. I can do this. I can wait. This time, when I take a huge breath, I do my best to let it all go. I let the tension out and give myself over to the situation I’ve put myself in.
There is literally nothing I can do right now to change what she has to say. She can say it, and I can listen, or I can choose to walk away. She isn’t my dom. She has no authority over me. Right now our connection is tenuous, at best.
It’s fine. I can totally handle this like an adult.
Madam Devangeline closes her laptop with a click, places her glasses on top of the laptop, and clasps both hands, resting them next to the glasses as she looks at me. “Emery, hello. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
It takes every fucking piece of willpower to keep my face neutral. If that text message was an invitation, then Xavier is a fucking puppy. “Hello, Madam Devangeline. Of course.”
She glances at the gold bracelet-like watch on her wrist. “Please, call me Madam, no need to be so formal. I’m glad you were able to squeeze me into your busy Sunday schedule.”
My stomach clenches and I lie through my teeth. “I had an assignment I needed to complete. I came as soon as that was done.”
She hums quietly. “Schoolwork is very important.”
“It is. I’m on scholarship, so it’s the only thing that is important,” I reply, not even lying now. It is the only thing that should be important. Instead, I have all this ridiculous man drama in my life.
Madam’s gaze scrolls down my body and then back up again, but luckily for her, she has mastered the art of keeping a poker face. “Before I ask you to sit down, you need to know that I’m currently in a scene.”
My lips part in surprise. She’s in a scene? I look around, but still, there are no other people here. “I… ah, who? Where?”
Her lips quirk on one side, and then she holds up a little black clicker and presses it. There is a very male, very loud moan for the entire time she holds the button down. As soon as she releases it, the moan fades away.
A zip of electricity runs down my spine as my gaze lands on the footrest. I take a step to the side to get a better view.
Hands, knees, calves, and feet.
Black woolen fabric is draped over a man who is on all fours. And as I watch, two puddles of liquid start to form, one near where I assume his head is and the other…
I snap my attention back to Madam.
“I had hoped that you would show up earlier today, at least for his sake. The poor thing has been being milked all day.” She presses the button again, and this time, I can see the way the footrest trembles.
I have no idea what she is doing to him, but whatever it is, he is clearly enjoying being used and humiliated like this. Kind of how I enjoyed Hudson’s scene at the apartment.
The electricity that flowed down my spine settles into my pussy, warm and liquidy.
“If you choose to stay, you need to consent to being a part of this scene.”
Swallowing, I shoot a look at the footrest. “Ah, is that…would that make the scene…better?”
Madam smirks at me. “For me, it would. My footrest doesn’t have an opinion. It’s just a piece of furniture I am using for my own pleasure.”
Oh, right. Well, then.
I nod, not sure that I should actually be nodding, but I’m very intrigued by this woman. “Okay, yes, I consent.”
“Excellent, please take a seat.” She presses the button again, and holy shit, I really hope this conversation doesn’t last long because this is way too much. The distressed male moans make me clench, and I have to bite my tongue in an attempt to keep my emotions hidden away.
I don’t think I am successful, though.
I take the seat that puts me at the other side of the coffee table, hiding as much of the footrest as possible from view.
When I sit, I all but sink into the leather, the couch so much softer than I thought it would be.
I try to keep my posture straight, but it’s almost impossible, so I settle for crossing my feet at my ankles and ignoring the way the seam of my jeans is pressing just right.
When I’m settled, that’s when the moaning stops, but is replaced with someone gasping for breath, whimpers breaking the sound.
I absolutely do not squirm in place.
“I understand that you know Derek, Hudson, Darcy, and Xavier,” she starts off, adjusting her feet on the footrest because it is arching repeatedly under their weight.
Okay, so we are diving straight in. “Yes.”
She raises an eyebrow at me but continues. “And you met through that sugar dating app they are fond of?”
I nod and try not to wiggle under her scrutiny. There is nothing wrong with being a sugar baby. “Yes.”
“And as a part of your relationship with them, they set up contracts with you that enforced a dominant submissive relationship between the five of you?”
“Yes. Initially, just for the first night, then the weekend, then for a six-month period,” I reply, wanting to make sure I answer as fully as possible. “However, I called off the six-month contract after the night I came to the club.”
“How, exactly, did you do that?” Madam asks, head tipping to the side, her tone that mix of polite and questioning that makes your stomach squirm. “Was it in writing?”
Feeling like I might be walking into a trap, I hesitantly tell the truth. “I used my safe word.”
That eyebrow raises again. “You used your safe word to end your entire contract with them?”
“Yeah,” I reply, my heart slowly sinking into my ass. “I mean, yes. That’s what they told me to say if I wanted things to end.”
Madam stares at me for so long, I start to think that maybe I broke her, but then she raises her arm and presses the button for an incredibly long time.
The footrest starts off with a startled noise, but then the moan goes on and on, long enough that it starts to sound a little panicky, short, sharp breaths in between noise.
The noises don’t stop when she lets go. Instead, the breathing is heavy and gibberish that I think is supposed to be words, but I’m starting to suspect the guy might be gagged so he can’t actually talk.
“Emery, safe words are only for scenes. Not for contracts.” The way she says those few words is like she is talking to a toddler.
“To end a contract, you actually need to end the contract. Your current contract with them still stands. It’s not over until you provide them with a contract termination. In writing.”
Frowning, I try to remember what the contract said, but all I can really remember is that the term said six months but they said they wanted longer. “They told me that saying red would make it all end. It would be over. The only time I ever used it was in the elevator.”
Madam mutters something under her breath, then she moves her laptop and glasses to the cushion beside her, lowers her feet to the ground, and stands. “Come with me, I need a drink.”
As she walks away, I stand to follow, only flinching the tiniest bit when the moaning starts up again.
The fabric covering the footrest starts to move and twist, until there is a very distinctive humping motion going on, and I quickly look away, cheeks burning while more heat pools right behind my clit.
This is a mindfuck of a conversation.
I trail behind Madam over to the bar and watch as she pulls two glasses out with a single hand, while her other one continues to hold down the button on the remote.
“Um, I’m only eighteen,” I admit before she can pour anything into my glass.
Madam side eyes me. “I know. I have background checks performed on all new guest and member requests. As soon as Derek added you to his account, a file was created.”
My mouth drops open.
She free pours a shot of something amber colored into her glass before dropping a single cube of ice into it.
“It’s for the safety of my members. We have some very high-profile members at Club Obsession, who do not need their personal preferences or bedroom desires splashed across the seven-o’clock news. ”
My glass is filled with ice and Coke, then passed to me before Madam takes a sip of her drink and rejoins me on the outside of the bar. She gestures at the barstools and we both take a seat.
Meanwhile, the footrest sounds like he might be dying. But since she is ignoring it, I do my best to as well.
“Emery, I think I have gotten a pretty clear idea of what has happened between you and those four idiotic men I call friends, and as much as I would like to smack you all upside the heads, I think what actually needs to happen is an open and honest conversation. Wires have definitely been crossed.”
I’m shaking my head before she finishes. “No, I don’t want to talk to them.”
She nods. “And that is your right. But if that is your plan, you do need to send them a letter or an email, something in writing, that terminates the contract. Right now, they are on the hook for the terms of your contract until it runs out.”
Raising my glass, I take a sip of the cool drink, turning her words over in my head. Is that why the money hasn’t stopped? Do they need to pay me for the next five months, even though I don’t plan on living up to my end of the contract?
“Why don’t they cancel it? I’ve told them a bunch of times to leave me alone.”
“Because they are hoping that you’ll forgive them and allow them back into your life,” she says with a sigh. She glances back over her shoulder, the moans having turned to painful huffs of noise. “I’ll be right back.”
She takes the clicker and goes back to the footrest. “You may come.”
The sound of relief the footrest makes turns to a distressed groan as Madam lets go of the button, clearly cutting off the sensation right as she gives permission.
The footrest continues to move under the fabric, clearly chasing his orgasm, but apparently can’t get there when a string of sobs follows in Madam’s wake as she makes her way back over to me.
I’m honestly terrified at the way her face is filled with so little emotion after torturing that poor man. Turned on, too, if I’m being honest.
“Okay, I’m not ready to break my sub completely, so I’m going to be straight with you.
” She gets within a few feet of me and stares so directly into my eyes, I feel like she is talking to my soul.
“Doms do not always get it right. We do our best to make sure we protect and support our subs, but things can definitely go wrong. Your daddies and I have spoken about your situation, and I can tell you that in their very manly, daddy ways, they were trying to protect you. Apparently there is a letter in a yellow envelope that explains all this to you?”
I nod when she pauses. “There is a letter, but I don’t want to read it. It will just be filled with excuses.”
“Again, that is your right.” Finally, emotion does appear on her face, and she pairs the pity with a smile.
“They fucked up, they know they did. I’ve known those four men for several years now, and I can tell you that they are not the type to back away from a mistake.
If anything, they will tear their worlds down to make things right.
So, Emery, either send them a contract termination and let them go, or read the letter and let them in, before they ruin themselves trying to win you back. ”
She pats my knee, then starts back toward her footrest. “You can see yourself out. I need to deal with this mess over here.”
Numbly, I leave my drink on the bar and slip off the stool before I follow its curve back around toward the door, my mind buzzing with everything she told me. As my hand connects with the door, there is a very loud male scream, but it barely distracts me from my thoughts.
Terminate before they ruin themselves.
It doesn’t seem to matter that they have already ruined me.