5. -
CHAPTER FIVE
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I grip the cuffs so tight they bite into my palms as I contemplate what I want to do with her tonight.
She’s blindfolded with my tie so she can’t see me walking around her slender frame, kneeling on the bed before me.
I circle the bed and eye her as if she's my next meal. I’ve grown bored with all the toys here at the club; I really should just start bringing in my own.
I’m not in the mood for this tonight, so I walk over to the beautiful woman I blindfolded a bit ago and take my tie back. “Sorry Vanessa. Let’s do this another night.” She looks at me with disappointed hazel eyes.
“Oh–alright. Is everything ok, Eric?”
I nod. “I’ll see you around, okay?” She stands up, straightens her dress, and walks out of the private room without looking back. Good. I’m too much in my head tonight.
I can’t stop thinking about that night 5 years ago.
I’ll never forget waking up the morning after going to the club with Annette.
I was in someone else’s room, naked, and could not remember a thing from the night before.
Beside me was Caleb–Annette was nowhere to be found.
I will always remember the retched feeling in my gut as I realized I was drugged and abused.
Abandoned and lied to by someone I thought I could trust. When I confronted her, she laughed in my face.
She told me it was my fantasy to fuck another man, so she helped me fulfill that fantasy.
She threw all of my vulnerability and trust right back in my face.
I felt worthless, but I wouldn't cry in front of her. I wouldn’t let her know how hurt I was; I wouldn’t ever tell another soul what happened that night.
For months it ate me up inside. I tried so hard to remember what exactly happened, but I couldn’t.
I tried telling myself it was for the best, not to remember, but I wanted to.
I was robbed of an experience I had always dreamed of.
I was reduced to another hole to fuck by a rich older man without my consent.
It still makes me sick to think about it to this day, so I push it out of my head.
Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I became even more invested in my work.
I became more obsessive and unrelenting, and began climbing the corporate ladder in any way possible.
Instead of building meaningful relationships with other women, I used them for my pleasure.
Consensually, of course. I will never open up to them in the way I did with Annette.
That night made me harden my exterior even more than my rough upbringing.
I have vowed to myself to never be vulnerable to another person again.
Instead of being submissive, I learned to be dominant.
Diving deep into the BDSM world, I sought how to control every aspect of human interaction to keep myself safe.
While also keeping my scene partners safe.
Maybe one day in the future I can learn to become submissive to the right person, but I’m not holding my breath on it. I never thought there would be someone else on this earth I could learn to trust again.
Until I met Baden.
The night I met him, he was with another group of men: reserved, stoic, and harboring something dark I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
He didn’t frighten me; instead, he excited me.
I could feel him watching me from the corner of my eye that night; it made my heart race.
His eyes are always dark, but inviting. There is something about him that makes me feel at ease.
Baden is unlike any man I’ve ever met; he’s incredibly dominant, controlling, and has a side to him that only comes out when he feels comfortable.
I look up to him and do everything I can to make him happy.
Not only because he’s my boss, but because I feel a connection with him I can’t explain.
He’s the only man I am submissive to, and it doesn’t bother me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I walk through the club and out the back door. I pull it out as I reach my car, and my heart flutters when I see who it is: Baden.
Why would he be calling so late on a Friday night? We spend the week together at work or traveling, so we don’t see one another much on the weekends.
“Baden?” I answered.
“Eric, where are you?” I always enjoy hearing his German accent.
“Uh,” I look back at the club I just left. “Deviance.”
“I’ll be there in 10. Get a private room for us. I trust you can round up some willing participants for the evening?” My mouth feels dry. He’s never asked anything like this before, but I can’t say no. Even if I don’t want to watch him be with anyone else, he can never know how I feel about him.
“Of course. Room 7. We will be waiting.”