10. Selene
CHAPTER 10
SELENE
I ’m wasting so much energy running through these halls. They’re not going to find me easily—are they? Maybe.
The forward one, Julian, seems to know his way around this place. Too well. He had a confidence about him, the kind that first-timers—or even seasoned regulars—don’t have. When he told me to run, it wasn’t a suggestion; it was a promise.
Like he already knew exactly where I’d end up and how he’d find me.
There must be a way to track someone down here. Otherwise, they’d be looking for hours—and that’s hours of wasted play time.
I’ve been here a few times, so I know the layout. Some of the rooms are interconnected. The ones with silver numbers have secret access points, hidden doors leading to other spaces. I think back to the last time I was here—when one door led us to two interconnected themed rooms, both groups fully engaged, watching and playing simultaneously.
That was a wild night.
Whoever said money can’t buy happiness was full of shit. This place fills my happiness jar to the brim—enough to last for months. At least until the itch returns, and I’m craving another round through these halls, searching for the next enticing game.
And tonight? Tonight, I might’ve stumbled upon a unicorn scenario.
I need to hunker down somewhere—and ditch these damn heels while I’m at it.
Loud moans ripple through the hallway, muffled but still present under the steady thrum of bass vibrating through the walls. I slow my pace, stopping in front of a door marked with a silver number. The light above it glows green.
It’s quiet on the other side.
Perfect.
I scan my card and cautiously step inside. The atmosphere shifts instantly and the music from the hallway is gone as I enter the dark room. It feels like I’ve stepped inside a medieval castle pulled straight from the pages of a dark fantasy. Chunky stone walls enclose the space, their rough, uneven texture catching the flickering light of torches mounted on wrought iron sconces. Shadows dance erratically across the room, alive and restless. Hooks and whips are hanging throughout, with metal cuffs secured at various heights. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood, leather and sex.
At the center of the room stands a massive bed, impossible to ignore. Its frame, carved from dark, imposing wood, is an intricate masterpiece of twisting vines and writhing creatures, their forms seemingly frozen in motion. The bed itself sits low to the ground, draped in rich crimson fabrics that pool onto the stone floor like fresh-spilled wine.
And right in the middle of it all—two women.
The one on the right is trapped by a wooden torture device, with a belt around her neck and a gag shoved inside her mouth. She’s also got a bar around her ankles and by the looks of it, she fought hard and lost the battle. Covered in a layer of sweat, she whimpers, trying to squirm away from the vibrator that’s attached to her. But she’s not going anywhere. When she spots me, her eyes grow wide, like I’m an angel sent from above.
The woman on the left looks like she’s caught in the throes of overstimulation, her body trembling under the strain. Red tape covers her face completely, as if someone used an entire roll to mask her features, leaving only her nose exposed. A ball gag juts out where her mouth should be, securing her silence. Her hands are bound tightly in front of her. Thick rope is meticulously wound around her thighs, knees, and ankles, holding her in place with unyielding precision. She’s groaning and writhing, trying to scream but having no luck because there is a wand in between her legs and a toy up her ass.
Fucking hell, I’d rather be edged than forced to cum repeatedly.
I could be wrong but it doesn’t look like these two are having any fun. How long have they been here?
There is no one else in the room. No fucking way someone tied them up and left. They must be watching.
The one on the right won’t take her eyes off me, silently pleading with me to do something.
Fuck it. When in Rome.
I take a step toward the bed, but I haven’t made it three steps before a booming voice echoes from the ceiling.
“Leave my fucktoys alone. They’re fine.”
The sheer force of it makes me cringe. I glance up, scanning the ceiling.
“They don’t look fine,” I call out, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my gut.
Silence.
I suck in a breath and take another step.
And then another.
“Move any closer,” the voice growls, sharper this time, “and you’ll be joining them on that bed.”
Well, shit. Guess I can’t be a hero today
“Sorry,” I whisper to the girl.
She closes her eyes, letting out a moan at the same time.
“Are you okay?”
She nods which gives me relief but the control freak in me needs to make sure. I quickly glance at both of them, looking for a sign that they are able to use a safe word if needed since they’re both tied and gagged. I notice a thin red ring around both of their index fingers which they can easily push off with their thumb if they choose to.
That’s likely their safe word sign.
One time when I found myself in a similar situation, I was told to cross my eyes and stare at my nose for a few seconds if I needed to stop.
I head for a door on the other side of the room, ready to make my exit. Just as my hand reaches the handle, something catches my eye—a pair of jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers neatly discarded in the corner. They look more practical and comfortable than what I’m wearing.
I hesitate for a moment, weighing my options, then decide to go for it. My dress is far more valuable anyway, and I doubt the owner of these clothes will miss them too much. Hopefully, whichever girl left them here won’t mind my little act of theft.
After all, worse things have happened at Untamed.
As I move through the halls, a strange exhilaration takes hold of me. The adrenaline, the fear of being caught, the thrill of the unknown—it’s like tasting a piece of a life I’ll never truly know. A somewhat normal life, if you can call it that. In my world, as a woman with considerable power, these emotions are a rare luxury. Fear, excitement, adventure—those are reserved for people who don’t live under constant scrutiny.
Here, though, it’s different. Untamed offers me something nothing else ever has: freedom. Freedom from everything I am and everything I pretend to be. Inside these walls, I can shed the weight of my reality and become whoever my imagination dares me to be. I feel safe here, enough to let go and allow my fantasies to take the lead.
I walk through a few rooms, threesomes, rough sex, the usual staples at a BDSM club. And a few scenes I really didn’t care to see tonight like a woman shitting on an old guy’s chest and forcing him to eat it. That nearly made me lose the dinner I skipped earlier.
I’m tired, disoriented, and starting to think I’ve completely lost the boys.
As I round the corner onto a new floor, the silence strikes me instantly.
No music. No moaning. Nothing.
This might be a good place to stop and catch my breath.
I scan my card, watching the light flash green before stepping inside. I expect an empty room but instead, I’m greeted by an unexpected scene.
The space glows with soft red under-lighting, casting shadows over an array of scattered sex toys. Among them, a massive hanging apparatus dangles ominously, its design practically inviting the kind of wild play that requires at least three participants.
But it’s the spotlight in the center of the room that pulls my focus. There, a petite woman kneels on the floor, completely naked, utterly still, and tightly bound. A folded piece of paper is clutched between her lips, her posture rigid with quiet obedience.
I linger by the door, noticing several others kneeling with leashes around their necks, their gazes fixed intently on something—or someone—I can’t quite see in the dark.
“Don’t be shy. Come inside.” A figure looms in the shadows, too far from the light for me to make out who it is.
A second later, the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor fill the space before she finally comes into view.
Clad in black lingerie with spiked straps that coil around her body like armor, and knee-high leather boots that climb past her thighs, she exudes dominance. She’s the master, and they are nothing more than slaves to her will.
Not going to lie, I’m a tad jealous right now.
The entire set up is sort of beautiful—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, now on his hands and knees, gazing up at her with a mix of reverence and fear. His full trust is with her, as his polished shoes press into the cold floor, his hands probably trembling a little as he waits for her next command. They’re all looking at her, around five of them as far as I can see.
Funny how on the outside, looks and roles can be so deceiving. But on the inside, when it’s dark and no one’s watching, our true selves emerge—the parts we hide from everyone, even ourselves at times. The raw and unfiltered versions of us. The ones we keep buried, locked away for a time—some even forever, because facing the monsters living inside our heads can be far more terrifying than hiding behind secrets.
But not this femdom. She doesn’t hide. She thrives in the spotlight.
She’s a blend of beauty and dominance.
There’s an artistry to it, a dance of control and surrender that I find impossible to look away from. I’d never be able to do it, not to this extent but I can admire it.
“You’re a pretty little thing. Do you want to play with my toys, or maybe I can add you to my collection?” She approaches me, a curious smile on her lips.
“I’m flattered but I’m sort of in the middle of a game myself.”
She raises a brow. “Oh?”
I hear the scanner before the door opens.
My heart thumps loudly in my chest the minute I see him walk in.
“There you are,” Julian calls out excitedly.
The door closes behind him, no sign of the other two.
“More players! How wonderful. Isn’t it wonderful, my precious things? Stand on your knees and clap for our new guests.”
The femdom’s subs do as she says, all sitting up on their knees simultaneously and clapping. She walks behind them, whipping each of them on the back of the bum.
“Are you considering joining them?” Julian whispers from behind me.
“No. I just got here.”
She turns and walks right up to Julian, inspecting his mask closely without saying a word. Like her intimidating presence would make him want to show his face. Julian doesn’t flinch or step back. He stands tall, looking down at her with his carbon mask.
“Be a doll and go grab the paper from my darling’s mouth. I think you two will enjoy what I have planned for you.”
Julian intertwines our hands together. “I appreciate the offer but this beautiful creature and I are already in the middle of a game…with two more arriving any minute now.”
She pouts. “What a shame. I was excited for new toys to play with.”
Julian’s masked face turns toward me. “I don’t think you would find us very obedient.”
Biting my lip, I try to hide my smile as I pull us close to the other door.
The femdom’s piercing gaze lingers as we leave the room, her silent dominance searing into me. Julian’s grip is firm, his urgency igniting a wildfire in my veins. My mind struggles to keep pace with my body as he pulls me into the dim hallway, his steps growing faster—almost frantic. He pushes through a pair of heavy doors, the metallic clang reverberating in the stillness. Without pause, he leads me down a cold, winding stairwell. I try to piece together if I’ve been on this floor before, but before the thought fully forms, he shoves me into another room. The door slams shut behind us as I take in the unfamiliar space.
I haven’t been here before.
This room is much bigger than the rest of the rooms in the hotel, ones I’ve come across anyway. It feels like we’re standing in the middle of a winter wonderland. The tastefully arranged furniture, adorned in rich green and crimson hues, adds a sweet touch too the room. I almost don’t want to make a mess here. Fake Christmas trees of various shapes and sizes stand in each corner, giving off the perfect holiday vibes. The floor is covered in fake snow, soft and powdery, I could just lay here and take a nap.
“How fitting for the season,” I muse, turning to face Julian, who seems a bit agitated. I watch as he carelessly discards his mask onto the floor. “Was this planned?”
“Not exactly. But it helps that I know my way around this place.”
“Care to elaborate?” I press, hoping he gives me a little more insight into who he is.
“No.” He runs his hand through his hair, his eyes burning with a familiar hunger that makes my pulse quicken as he closes the gap between us.
“Truth or dare?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my chest.
His gaze sharpens, dark and unyielding. “Dare.”
My eyes sweep the room, landing on the familiar assortment of tools and toys.
A slow smile curls my lips. “I dare you to let me tie you up.”
Julian freezes, his expression shifts, a flicker of hesitation breaking through his usual confidence.
For the first time tonight, I see him unraveling, and the power shift sends a shiver down my spine.
Let’s play, baby.