52. Chapter 52
Justin
“Dude, I totally thought you were dead!” Derek gawks at me like he’s seeing a ghost. “I have to post about this. My roomie returning from the brink of death. That’s gonna get a shit ton of engagement.”
I roll my eyes as I change into the clothes he brought for me. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic. Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” His eyes rove over my body as I pull my pants on. “You look like death warmed over. What’s with the bruises, dude? Were you kidnapped by aliens?”
I burst out laughing. It sounds a little hysterical, but I can’t help it. “Aliens? That’s the first thing that comes to your mind? Are you drunk, Derek?”
“Duh. It’s Friday night and you pulled me from a party. Of course I’m drunk. But really, what’s with the bruises? You look like you’ve been choked. Are you okay?” Derek hesitates, his teasing giving way to genuine concern.
Heat floods my cheeks as I remember Cameron grabbing my throat while pounding into me. I never thought I’d find that hot, but here we are.
Derek’s eyes widen to a comical level. “Oh my god, it was a sex thing, wasn’t it? Bro! You have to tell me everything. Who is she? She must have a hell of a grip.”
I blush even harder, then decide to just go with it. There’s no point in staying in the closet. “Actually, it was a guy. I hooked up with a guy. And yes, the bruises are a sex thing. Consensual,” I stress, not wanting to get into another discussion about my “trauma.”
“Wow.” Derek whistles. “So you’re bi and kinky?
How come you’re so freaking cool all of a sudden?
” He shakes his head. “It’s always the wallflowers who are the biggest freaks.
You could have left a note or something, though.
I was worried, and your folks were downright freaking out.
Your mom was calling every other day, and I had to help your brothers cover the campus with missing posters.
We genuinely thought you were dead, dude. ”
Damn. Even my brothers were worried about me?
And Derek? We were too different to really become friends, and we clashed a lot, especially when he brought girls over to our room without so much as a warning.
I’ll freely admit I didn’t like him very much, and I thought he shared the sentiment.
Yet he was worried, and when I called, he immediately rushed over.
“I’m sorry.” What else am I supposed to say? That captives locked up in cages don’t get to call their friends and family to tell them they’re okay?
Lucky for me, Derek is pretty laid-back. “No problem, dude. I’m happy you’re happy. Now, tell me about the freaky sex you’ve been having. Are you a top or bottom? Oh, who am I kidding, you’re a total bottom. Did you use ropes? Toys? Tell. Me. Everything.”
He’s insistent, and that’s how it happens that the nurse finds us deep in discussion about prostate vibrators. Blushing so hard it feels like my face is about to melt off, I sign the release papers, wave off Derek when he asks if I need help, and step into a waiting Uber.
I have a plan. It’s not a good plan, and it’s definitely not a safe plan, but it’s a plan.
I considered going to the precinct, but given the way they brushed me off when I called, I don’t think it would make any difference. If anything, it would make things worse. I could also go back to Cameron’s place, but what would I do there? Not to mention, how would I even get inside?
That leaves only one place. The club.
I shudder as I think about going there alone. But Sin and Cameron are friends. Aside from the Russian guy whom I have no way of contacting, she’s the only one I can think of who might be willing to help Cameron.
I step out of the Uber in front of the luxurious restaurant I remember from when Cameron drove me to the club.
It doesn’t take me long to locate the entrance to the underground garage.
I’m sure there’s another entrance to the club, but since I only know this one, I take my chances.
Fortunately, there’s no security to stop me from running down the ramp.
A car honks at me, the driver knocking on his forehead as he passes by.
I ignore him and head for the second set of gates leading deeper down.
The skin on the back of my neck prickles with awareness as I sneak under the gates. I’m being watched. I feel eyes on me, but I don’t see anyone. A few dozen cars are parked within walking distance of the nuclear shelter-style door I remember from last time, but I don’t see any people.
I feel a little silly as I approach the door. Last time, it opened before Cameron and I could get to it. Tonight, it stays stubbornly closed.
Great.
Praying it’s the right thing to do, I knock. “Hello?”
Nothing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the door was a long-forgotten remnant of a Cold War shelter, sealed off and never used. I do know better, so I knock again, with a little more force.
“Hey! I was here a week ago with Cameron Matthews. I need to talk to Sin. Sin, um…” I don’t know her last name.
Hell, I don’t even know her first name. I doubt her driver’s license says just “Sin.” I probably look like an idiot, but I can’t stop now.
“She’s the owner of the club. Please. Tell her it’s about Cameron Matthews. Tell her it’s urgent.”
Silence.
Shit. What am I supposed to do now? Talking to Sin and getting her to rescue Cameron was the best plan I could come up with. If I can’t get to her, I guess I’ll have to go to the precinct and bother the front desk person until they do something. Like arrest me.
“Come on, guys. Let me in.”
I raise my fist to knock again when the door suddenly opens. A hand grabs my bicep, steadying me as I stumble. “It’s not every day we have slaves banging on the door to get in,” a low male voice grumbles. It’s one of those big bouncers with a buzzcut. “Usually they’re trying to get out.”
“I… I’m not…” Fuck. I came here of my own free will. They can’t just keep me here, can they?
My stomach drops as I realize that they can. Free will means nothing here.
Somehow, the possibility of getting kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery again didn’t occur to me.
“I need to talk to Sin. Please. She knows me.” She thrust her tits into my face when I was impaled on Cameron’s cock. That warrants a level of recognition, right?
The bouncer ignores my stuttering and manhandles me into a small, functional office behind the reception desk.
The difference between the club’s opulence and this room’s boring normalcy is staggering.
The bouncer leans against the door with his bulky arms crossed in front of his equally bulky chest. I can see his weapon, and not the one in his pants.
Damn, why am I making stupid jokes when I’m about to be tortured and raped?
“Please, I need to speak to Sin.”
“You will.” Before relief sets in, he adds, “Strip.”
“E-excuse me?”
His eyes narrow in a clear threat. “Slaves don’t wear clothes around here. Strip, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Okay. I… Okay.” I quickly take off my clothes. It doesn’t matter. After the time I spent with Cameron, wearing clothes feels weird, and everyone in the club already saw me naked anyway. If it gets me to Sin, I’ll be naked all day long.
The bouncer points to a corner where someone tried to remove a stubborn stain from the boring gray carpet. They didn’t quite succeed, and the result looks even worse than if the stain had been left alone. “Kneel.”
This time, I don’t argue. In fact, I barely even think about the command.
My knees hit the stained carpet without conscious thought, which is a little scary.
It’s one more thing I should probably be in therapy for.
Kneeling for strangers who might or might not murder me later. It’d give Mark a hell of a headache.
The bouncer goes through my clothes, piece by piece.
He turns my phone off and pockets it, then searches my backpack and steals a chocolate bar I bought for a late snack.
He grins at me as he munches on it, like he’s daring me to complain.
I know what he’s doing, and I won’t give him a reason to punish me.
He might be a dick, but right now, he’s the dick I need.
He seems satisfied by my lack of response. “Good dog,” he says, then snaps his fingers. “Come.”
He doesn’t make me crawl, so he’s not a complete dick.
I follow him through a service corridor.
Soft whispers of music and an occasional scream can be heard from behind a door we pass, and I shudder.
If he takes me there and leaves me at the mercy of the club patrons, I’m dead.
Ugly dead. I remember the sobbing girl and Small’s words echo in my mind.
I could have stopped this. I could have saved the person who’s screaming for help on the other side of this door even now.
Yet I chose Cameron, and now I have to live with the consequences of that decision.
The bouncer pushes me through another door.
This office is leagues away from the first one. Where the one behind reception looked like the most cliché mid-level corporate booth imaginable, this place is sleek and modern, more in tune with the club’s opulent theme.
There are no windows, naturally, but in their place hang large paintings of fantastic landscapes.
A magical forest at night, where tiny fairies dance around the pond and a huge, red-eyed monster lurks between the trees.
A ship braving a stormy sea, about to be torn asunder by a gargantuan octopus-like creature.
A garden in bloom. At first glance, it looks peaceful and inviting.
There’s something wrong with the image, though.
I can’t tell what it is, but it makes my skin crawl.
The longer I stare at it, the more uneasy I feel, until my eyes snap back to the monster in the woods.
At least that’s a wrongness I can identify.
The bouncer doesn’t order me to kneel, but I do it anyway. From what I know of Sin, she’s big on discipline, and I definitely don’t want to get punished by her.
I’m grateful for my foresight when she saunters in a few minutes later, takes me in, and nods. “Cameron has trained you well.”
Drawing on everything Cameron taught me, I keep my eyes respectfully lowered. “Thank you, Mistress.”
She lowers herself into a comfortable chair.
She’s wearing a long dress with bold cutouts that show off her full figure while still looking glamorous instead of trashy.
One would expect an owner of a fetish club to be decked out in leather or latex, but Sin seems to prefer evening gowns.
The riding crop she carries belies her elegant style a little, as does the leash dangling from her other hand.
The leash goes to a wide leather collar tightly wrapped around the neck of a man crawling in Sin’s wake on all fours.
My traitorous cock twitches with interest.
The man is wearing floppy dog ears and an honest-to-god muzzle.
A long, bushy tail hangs from the plug in his ass and brushes against the backs of his thighs as he crawls.
On his hands, he’s wearing ridiculous mittens in the shape of dog paws, and his cock is encased in a mean-looking cage.
I mean, seriously, are those spikes on the inside of the cage?
That must hurt like hell, not to mention a small metal device clamping his balls so tightly they’re nearly purple.
I wince in sympathy when he kneels by Sin’s side and squirms to find a comfortable position. Poor guy. I wonder if he’s the one from the box.
I don’t ask.
“I usually go by Madame,” Sin says, “but Mistress is acceptable too. So, little pet. What brings you by? Are you bored of Cameron already? Want to find yourself a different Master? Someone with a firmer hand?” The riding crop lands on the slave’s chest with a loud smack.
He doesn’t make a sound other than a sharper intake of breath. He’s probably used to worse from her.
“No, Madame,” I say carefully. “I want to stay with Cameron. But he’s in trouble. The police came into his house and arrested him.”
Sin shrugs. “They have no evidence against him. Unless you talked. Did you talk, little pet?”
My heart slams against my ribs at the dangerous flash in her eyes. “No, no. I didn’t say anything. I mean, I did say something. Consensual. I said it was all consensual,” I stutter out.
When it looks like Sin isn’t going to pounce on me immediately and the bouncer remains standing quietly by the door, I take a deep breath.
Everything’s fine. This was the plan. “I told the detective everything between Cameron and me was consensual, but he got really mad. He threatened me. I think he’s going to hurt Cameron. ”
Sin leans forward. “Is that so? How about you start from the beginning? Tell me what trouble Cameron has gotten himself into this time.”