Chapter 22 Violet
Chapter Twenty-Two
VIOLET
I don’t mind going to the club. In fact, I’d probably love it if it wasn’t owned by the oily Thomas.
We’ve been a few times now, over the last week. No big displays from us, and I like watching all those well-dressed people as well as all the ones in latex, in leather. And I love the displays they have on the main floor.
Sometimes, it’s sex, other times, it’s whips or bondage.
The master or mistress is always cool and focused entirely on the sub. And even if it’s not something I’m into, it’s compelling, a turn on.
The outfits I wear are less revealing for the week we go.
I’m sort of fractured with work and my every day clothes and this heady world of sex and sin and dark fantasy. But I don’t forget my mission.
I’m trying to see if Gianna is here, if anyone seems wrong, somehow.
The Dungeon, for its level of exclusivity, is a big place and the staff, the girls, either change daily in their shift work, or they work in different parts of the club.
One thing is I feel safe with the protection of the bracelet and Cade’s soft warning not to wander out of his line of vision.
Safer than a part of me might feel if I didn’t have Cade there. It’s not just Thomas, there are a handful of powerful-looking men who he spends time with, that look at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
So, yes, I’m glad to have Cade.
I’m glad to have him, anyway.
It’s Friday night, and we’re going to the club again. I turn to Cade, holding up two different outfits. “Which one?”
He doesn’t even look. “Neither.”
I frown. “You didn’t even look.”
“Thomas is close to giving me this other job, but he’s holding off. I don’t know why.”
“Is that a problem?” I sit on the bed as he turns in his computer chair.
“Yes and no. It’s gives us time to look for clues to Gianna, but it also might be hindering…”
My heart squeezes. “We need to stay positive.”
“I know.” He holds out his hand, and I put mine in his. “But there’ a chance we might not find her. These things can be almost impossible.”
“’Almost’ isn’t impossible.”
He half laughs. “Fuck, Vi. You’re a hell of a girl.”
I don’t need to tell him I haven’t found anything at work. Because if I do that, I’ll have to admit to low-key snooping. Nothing huge, and nothing I couldn’t explain away, but Cade, for a man who’ll make me come in a room full of people, expose me, and fuck me in public, is very protective.
And I like it.
A lot.
“Thomas has offered us the private rooms, or even to book a session that’ll be watched if people choose to…” My clit throbs even as my throat tightens. “We can’t keep going with me sitting with you or watching people. Can we?”
He tugs me onto his lap, pulling my thighs either side of him so his hand can dip under his T-shirt I’m wearing. And the expression of delight on his face as he stroked my bare, wet pussy is almost orgasmic to me.
But he doesn’t touch my clit. He doesn’t push fingers into me. Cade just strokes my wet flesh, making me shudder and moan.
“We can, Vi. I told him I don’t share my girl, and whatever you blurted out was because you thought I was at dinner and you followed me. He knows you know what I do. But he’s not interested in you in that way.”
The words ‘that way’ make me shudder in the wrong way.
“I told him point blank I play at clubs like his. I fucking love clubs like his. But I’m easing you into it. Why you wear that bracelet, Vi. We’ll have to do more, eventually.” He kisses my throat.
“But?”
“But…if I’m honest, there are other clubs just as good, who vet their members that I’d rather really play with you in. Besides, you and me? I think we like more of an edge. More of the real world in our games. You do.”
“I’m willing to learn.”
He groans and eases me off him, sucking his fingers of my juices. “Here.”
Then Cade reaches down and hands me a glossy bag I didn’t notice. “Wear this.”
I open it and peer in. “Oh.”
“We leave in ten.”
I scurry off to get changed.
There’s a thrill that rakes over me every time we step into the nondescript building and into another world. It starts with the woman in white latex.
It’s not always the same one, but she’s always blonde and gorgeous.
But it’s like a rite of passage into a place where I know Cade and I belong. The people there—maybe not all of them—are our kind of people.
Even when we don’t share the same preferences with them, they’re our kind, and I like it.
I smooth a hand down over the baby doll sixties style lingerie I’m wearing in red with its sheer netting, silk ribbons and feathered edges. I feel naked again. Even though I have on a matching bra and panties set that comes with it.
The panties are sheer, as is the bra, and they’d be exposing me if I didn’t have the cover.
Red kitten heels finish the outfit, and there’s a matching ribbon holding some of my hair back.
I look maybe just eighteen.
It feels wrong.
It’s slightly delicious.
If we were home, if we were alone I can imagine the games. But I don’t think the girly ribbon is something that’s a turn on to Cade. I think he insisted on it to make me look younger because he told me to gauge any reactions to how I look and let him know.
Especially, if it’s from men I’ve seen before. And he added not to disappear from his sight.
I clutch his hand as we enter the club proper, and this time, he takes me to a table near the bar. There are booth-like seats around us, but this is one of a few that have chairs and is set up for those who want to watch and drink.
As he goes to the bar, I take in the people around me.
Tonight, this has the feel of a strip club…
what I imagine one would be, as there are a lot of men in suits up here, more than usual.
I think Thomas said they like to showcase different preferences on different nights, and under the spotlight is a woman performing burlesque and many of the men are watching avidly.
I’ve seen strippers before. On TV. In Jack’s photos from Vegas, but this is something else. Even I am mesmerized.
Whoever she is, she’s a goddess.
But I drag my gaze from her and take in the room.
After a week, I’m recognizing people.
It’s clear to me there are two sets of patrons. The ones that don’t put on public displays and either partake downstairs in the private rooms or they come here to conduct business, make connections.
I know when someone works a room.
I’m also recognizing the fact the hostesses and waitresses are either mostly naked, in latex, or the kind of lingerie I’ve never owned. This stuff is made to be seen.
There’s a group of men drinking and talking, and one of them grabs the waitress, pulling her down as she places the last drink on the table and pulling out her breasts so he can play with them.
Two hostesses come up, one in a latex dress so low cut and short she might as well have been me the first night I came. The other girl, a redhead, is in lingerie.
They join the table, easing into the conversation, laughing and touching the men.
One man shoves his hand in the redhead’s panties, fingers moving, and it’s clear he’s finger fucking her.
The girl grabs the man’s shoulder and straddles him, long legs on display, then she sits fully as he pulls out his hand, gripping her thigh, and she turns, her ear next to his mouth.
I go utterly still.
The redhead.
I know her.
It’s Macy from work, looking so sexy and gorgeous in her lingerie, her make up made to look like a woman ready to be fucked.
Macy.
Working here?
She looks over, and our eyes lock. For a moment, she goes still, her eyes going wide, but then she blinks and looks away, going back to focus on the man whose lap she’s on.
Of course, that’s when Thomas walks by, slowing as he passes my table, hand skimming my cheek, and his eyes lock on my breasts.
He stops, comes closer, and I’m grossed out that he gets hard as he looks at me, his hand stroking over the ribbon in my hair.
“You look sixteen. Maybe younger if we washed off the makeup.” He looks me up and down. “But you’re definitely of age, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” I push out the words, fighting the sudden urge to lurch out of his way and run to Cade.
He didn’t mean anything. He’s the same as everyone else in here. A man with urges and desires. And he didn’t wish me younger, just commented I looked young. And he confirmed I’m of age.
But still…
I repress the shudder.
It’s just the memories of Isaac and what happened. It’s the PTSD of being locked in that room, even for as short a time as it was.
“Good, good.” He smiles, drops his hand and steps away. “Your outfit is…singular. Did you pick it, or Cade?”
I swallow. “Cade did.”
And his smile widens. “Are you enjoying the club? Cade mentioned you’re taking your time, getting used to it. It’s your second club?”
“First. My first. But I love it.”
This time, I get up, look around.
I don’t see Cade. And a low panic starts to set in.
“You really are new at the club scene. You could walk around naked, offer to suck all the cock you want, and not one man would touch you. They’d let you, don’t get me wrong, but they won’t touch you and won’t approach you. Just don’t take off the bracelet.”
I shiver. He’s giving me advice and trying to assuage my fears, so why does it feel like a threat?
But before I can say anything, Cade arrives and puts the drinks down, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me in against him, silently staking his claim on me.
“You’re a lucky man,” Thomas says.
Cade looks at me, then at him. “I’m aware.”
“Unless you like to share your toys—”
“I don’t share, Thomas.”
Cade kisses me, soft and sweet, giving me something to hold on to, to cling to in this place. Not just him, but his kiss.
And I grab him, kissing him back, the music fading, along with the voices and the chuckle I think belongs to Thomas. I kiss Cade, pressing against him, melting, my tongue seeking more as I try to lose myself in him.
Cade doesn’t seem to mind, the kiss changes to erotic and hard, and we move until I hit the wall, and he slides his fingers up my thigh, his erection pressing into me, making it clear how much he wants me.
He breaks the kiss, his lips at my ear. “Fuck. It’s so hard for me not to have my way with you here.”
“Isn’t that gold standard in this place? Anything goes?”
“Anything goes indeed, but you’re meant to be finding your feet, not leading the way.”
I look up at him as he strokes his fingers against my upper thigh. “I’ve had a lot of practice, in places that don’t accept people having sex wherever.”
He groans, laughing. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I definitely want you alive.”
He kisses me again. “That’s good to know. We need to play it like you’re slightly hesitant.”
“Or is it you want me to yourself?”
His eyes flash. “I definitely want you to myself.”
“Good.” The word falls naturally, and with my whole being behind it.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like others watching.” He grips my thigh as he grinds against me, like he wants to torture us both. “Or, should I say, I like you like it.”
“I more than like it. I more than like you.”
His eyes go soft and warm, “And yet, I seem to remember you saying you loved me.”
“I do.” A frisson of delight ripples through me.
“Good, because, Vi, I love you, too.”
It’s more than romantic love.
I kiss him, and it’s a kiss of sweetness dipped in erotic heat. But when it ends, he leads us back to our table, our drinks, and sits me on his knee, another show of ownership, one I like.
This relationship with Cade takes my breath away. Never in a million years would I have thought it’d be so deep, hot, like finding my other half. Because apart from sex, it’s like that.
We fit perfectly together.
And while this is the start, I think we get each other in a fundamental way that should scare me but doesn’t.
I spend the evening with Cade, something in me keeping me close, even when Thomas comes up to set up a time to meet about another job.
He also introduces Cade and me to a bunch of people, and one of the girls there is Macy. Thomas doesn’t introduce us, but I smile at her, like I do the other girls.
However, she is the only one not to smile back. She is the only one who looks through me and pretends I don’t exist.
Finally, she moves on with the group, and when Thomas introduces Cade to someone else, someone who gives off vibes of dark energy.
Cade slides me a look.
He wants to talk to them alone.
He doesn’t have to speak for me to get that.
I know the look. Maybe not from him, because he doesn’t tend to exclude me to my face, but there’s an intensity to the eyes, like he’s saying something.
I run through the things I could say, before finally settling on the vibe we have for the evening. “May I go to the bathroom?”
The mild amusement and pleasure in his gaze isn’t missed. “You have my permission.”
I get up, and head off, trying to covertly look around for someone who looks like Gianna. But even though I wander further into the club, past the bathrooms, there’s nothing.
I’m beginning to fear this place is a waste of time in regard to finding her. Unless one of the men bought her… But how the hell do I find that out?
Cade.
That’s how.
I turn back and go into the beautiful bathroom, the large room done up in reds, blacks, and velvet wallpaper. I don’t need to pee, so I take a moment and sit on the chaise longue.
That’s when Macy exits one of the stalls.
Her reaction is microscopic, a tiny hesitation, but she doesn’t speak.
She heads to the sink.
I come up behind her.
“I know we keep meeting in bathrooms, but last time you were much more talkative.”
She doesn’t respond and doesn’t meet my gaze in the mirror.
I frown. “Why are you pretending not to know who I am?”
Macy looks around, then peers under the other stalls, but it’s clear we’re alone in here. Then she finally sighs. “We’ll talk, but not here, okay?”
There’s a thread of something in her voice, so I nod, and let her hurry out.
What the hell was that all about?
It’s not embarrassment over being in here. After all, we’re both in the same boat, at least as far as she thinks.
Maybe she’s being made to work here. Maybe there’s someone at the congressman’s office with a connection here, someone who picks girls, gets dirt, and forces them to…what? Take part in this place as a worker?
The thing is, Walsh isn’t into this, or I would have seen him here, or Cade would have found out.
But a lot of powerful people come through the offices, for appointments, for lots of things. And maybe someone asked Macy out. Maybe they did the same to Gianna and once the girls were caught up, this person forced them to be their toy.
I shudder.
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe she likes this, and Macy’s just embarrassed.
But I could be on to something. I might have a connection to Gianna from the office.
And that’s something very much worth pursuing.