Chapter 2

Nobody that I know in my real life knows I work here as well as at Reid Global, except for Sel and Nico. My wig and my mask see to that. Even after my first few days, I decided to keep it a secret. This wasn’t just for my own personal safety—in case any angry regulars caught me on the street and expected something just because I do it in the evenings—but because I’m fully aware of the assumptions that would be made.

If I mention a fetish club to anyone who doesn’t already work in the sex industry, I know I’d be asked whether that means I’m a prostitute or a porn star, or whether I do all the things from that god-awful, infamous film that made everyone think they are suddenly into BDSM.

No, these clubs work very differently. There’s a process, a procedure, that enables Sel (and sometimes me) to screen potential members. There are fees to ward off the drunk “lads” who think I’m just a stripper. There are introductory sessions that match workers with clients’ interests. Security measures are in place, and there are guards. Each worker has a device on them that works as a silent alarm if needed. Workers never go to clients’ homes or secondary locations; it all happens in the club. And the things that happen at the club are all discussed beforehand between the workers and the clients, gathering consent at every possible step. The actual sex part of the evening usually only happens once a worker and their client have been together for a while and built a layer of trust in their relationship.

The people who come here are looking more for a release from control, a way to forget the limitations of their days and responsibilities. There are ways of enabling them to forget about all of that, and a lot of those ways don’t involve just getting fucked.

There is still a section where the workers do strip-dance routines, but everyone who frequents the club knows that no clothes are lost during the dances, and that this is more for show—for atmospheric purposes. The workers use their dance slots as half-breaks from room schedules to decompress after sessions. The dance area also allows visitors interested in becoming members to dip their toes in, sit and have a discussion with me, Sel, or their potential match in a no-pressure environment. Just nice music, someone dancing in front of them, and a few drinks.

The role I take on is a Mistress. Sometimes I’m a sub, but that is very rare for me, and it has to be a very, very special client for me to consider that. I also come here looking for release, and the members usually do not have the skills to dominate me in the way I actually want. So, I take control five nights a week. That way, I can control my own release as well as theirs. It works for me, and it has worked for years.

For the last year, though, I’ve been finding it harder and harder to expel all of my frustrations through my evening job, and that then translates over to my day job. I know the reason, and so does Sel. She likes to bring it up now and then, and tonight is one of those times.

“I think you should just do it. Just kiss him one day,” she says bluntly as she shuffles the papers on her desk. I’m sitting opposite her, lounging in the velvet armchair as if I own it, which I do. I bought it for her.

“I’m not going to kiss my boss.”

“But you’ve had the hots for him since day one.”

“He’s my boss!” I say, repeating the same argument I raise every time she mentions it.

“Maybe he has the hots for you.”

“Like fuck. He’s got like a bajillion dollars, and he always has meetings with these women who look like they have permanent Photoshop on them. It’d be so embarrassing if I even thought about trying anything, let alone doing it.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly Plain Jane, are you?” she says with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t say that. I know I’m hot. I’m just not… CEO Mr. Reid level hot,” I sigh as I let my head fall back onto the chair.

“Well, you’ve got to do something, because you’re burning through clients like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“They’re just so boring!” I huff as I sit up. “‘Oh, Mistress, please, can I have the flogger? I didn’t drink enough water; please punish me!’ Like, just shut up, Casey. You don’t drink enough every bloody week. I’ll fucking punish you just for being annoying.”

Sel laughs from the other side of the desk.

“I’m telling you, you need to do something to change things up. I can’t keep looking at their puppy-dog eyes when I tell them that you’ve gone to other people. Maybe you should go back to subbing?” she queries with a shrug.

“You know I hate that with these members. Not that we have shit members, but…”

“But you’re very picky. I know, I know,” she sighs. She puts down the papers that are in her hands. “But pretty soon, you’ll have gone through all the appropriate options. Then what? You’re still frustrated, and then I can’t pay you just to be sitting around.”

“You already pay Nico for that,” I mumble with a grimace.

“Funny. Seriously, though, Nora, you either need to kiss Reid or get over yourself. You can’t be moping for another year. I won’t allow it.”

“I’m not moping. I’m just…” I exhale loudly. “Bored. I need some excitement. A change. Maybe I should start doing the dances?”

“Absolutely not. You have no rhythm for that. I’d start losing customers,” she laughs. I frown, picking up one of her pens and tossing it over at her. “Right, come on, time for you to work. I have a potential coming in this evening, and I need you to do the introduction.”

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“Because none of your remaining clients are due until tomorrow, and you need to do some actual work while you’re here,” she orders, gesturing for me to leave. “Plus, it was an anonymous call, so I need to be on the cameras just in case. You’ve got Mia and Kai nearby as well.”

I stand up, grumpily and reluctantly. I grab my wig and pull it over my hair, go to her mirror to make sure it’s sitting right, and tuck away any visible strands. She comes over to help me with my mask, tying it neatly at the back of my head, then pinning it in place. She also tugs at my corset strings.

“Hey, you trying to kill me?!” I chuckle as it tightens.

“Oh, stop being a baby. We both know you like it tight,” she says in a very motherly tone before she leans forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Now, go get me a new member. Nico will point him out.”

I leave her office, walking slowly down the stairs and thinking over my dire situation. Sel is right; I need to suck it up. The question is, which job do I want to suck it up for?

As I enter the main area, I instinctively cast my eye over the floor, noting patrons I both know and do not. I also spot a few of my previous clients, whose eyes visibly light up as I walk past. I hold my head high and ignore them, knowing it’ll drive them crazy.

“Nico!” I call as I reach the bar, making him rush over from the customer he’s serving. “New client?” I ask.

“That one. Hugo Boss suit. I can tell from a mile away that he’s a big-ticket,” Nico explains as he points.

I roll my eyes as I turn to follow his finger. Big-ticket guys always have the money to spend, but I find that aside from “being punished,” none of them really know what they want from me. It’s exhausting. It seems like all that money cost them a few brain cells.

My eyes follow Nico’s finger as I try to pick out the suit he’s talking about. I feel a rush of dread run through me as I clock who it is.

Mr. Reid.