to think so—but Rey’s is clean and sharp, like a knife that you don’t even feel slipping into you until your guts are lying in front of you on the floor.
“Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. And now the reason for my call.”
My stomach lurches as all the thoughts I’ve had over the past couple of days race through my head. Private sessions? And with who? Rey? Rey and Matthew? Some anonymous woman who’ll let me beat her and say filthy things to her? And where? So many details.
“I’ve been thinking it over, and I think the best thing for you would be to join a club in town.” He cuts off my protest with a cluck, not even letting me get a word in. “I understand that privacy is important to you, and I will do everything in my power to keep your name safe. However, you’re new, and you need exposure to a variety of kinks to figure out what exactly you’re after. Humiliation’s definitely on the list and we’ve talked about a few other things I’ll make sure you get to experience, but I don’t want you to miss anything. Sometimes you don’t know something will appeal to you until you’ve seen it or tried it yourself. Besides, I don’t have the time or energy to be setting you up in different clubs wherever you are in the country. One-offs aren’t going to help you much at this stage. You need people to talk to. A community. Whether you like it or not.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of anyone knowing these things about me, never mind lots of anyones. A whole goddamn club of anyones.
“And if you don’t like it—” How does he do that? “—feel free to take your business elsewhere. But you’re not going to get a better offer…if you get another one at all.”
He’s right. So annoyingly right. I’m lucky I have a chance, period, and I know deep in my gut I wouldn’t go looking for another one. I’d be back outside the gates, rattling the bars to be let in. The idea makes the contents of my stomach roil. I’m too close to give up. Plus, Rey seems to know what he’s talking about. India wouldn’t associate with him if he didn’t. Her stamp of approval means something to me.
“Fine.” I should dial back the grudging tone, but he’s got to know I wouldn’t be thrilled with his verdict.
“Suck it up, buttercup. I’m going to make sure you have a good time. Now let me tell you about this little place I know. It’s called the Black House.”
Chapter Six
‡
“Y ou’re sure this is safe?”
My demand doesn’t faze the man sitting in the driver’s seat—who the fuck gets a Jag for a rental car, anyway?—but I didn’t figure it would. Rey is cool personified, and if anything, I should be grateful he doesn’t roll his eyes at me. He’d be a nightmare to play poker with. No tells at all.
“I wouldn’t have brought you here if it weren’t safe. This is probably the safest place on earth for you to play, to be honest. You’ve all got the same things to lose.”
We’ve talked about this before, and I understand on an intellectual level, it’s true. But it makes me uneasy that my entire professional future relies on a kinky version of mutually assured destruction. Sure, it worked out in the end, but I don’t know that I want to live my life as a personal Cold War.
“Look, Slade. I know you’re nervous, and I don’t blame you. But think about it this way. Sex scandals rock Washington all the time. Mistresses and call girls coming forward, homophobes getting caught with their dicks stuck through glory holes, secret families coming to light.”
I can think of at least one example of each of those scenarios. Not to mention the nuclear fallout and a hellscape littered with ruined careers. This is not making me feel any better, but my heavy glare doesn’t seem to affect him at all.
“When’s the last time you heard about a high-powered lobbyist who’s into being used as a human toilet? Or a senator whose idea of a good time on a Saturday night is using her
“Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. And now the reason for my call.”
My stomach lurches as all the thoughts I’ve had over the past couple of days race through my head. Private sessions? And with who? Rey? Rey and Matthew? Some anonymous woman who’ll let me beat her and say filthy things to her? And where? So many details.
“I’ve been thinking it over, and I think the best thing for you would be to join a club in town.” He cuts off my protest with a cluck, not even letting me get a word in. “I understand that privacy is important to you, and I will do everything in my power to keep your name safe. However, you’re new, and you need exposure to a variety of kinks to figure out what exactly you’re after. Humiliation’s definitely on the list and we’ve talked about a few other things I’ll make sure you get to experience, but I don’t want you to miss anything. Sometimes you don’t know something will appeal to you until you’ve seen it or tried it yourself. Besides, I don’t have the time or energy to be setting you up in different clubs wherever you are in the country. One-offs aren’t going to help you much at this stage. You need people to talk to. A community. Whether you like it or not.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of anyone knowing these things about me, never mind lots of anyones. A whole goddamn club of anyones.
“And if you don’t like it—” How does he do that? “—feel free to take your business elsewhere. But you’re not going to get a better offer…if you get another one at all.”
He’s right. So annoyingly right. I’m lucky I have a chance, period, and I know deep in my gut I wouldn’t go looking for another one. I’d be back outside the gates, rattling the bars to be let in. The idea makes the contents of my stomach roil. I’m too close to give up. Plus, Rey seems to know what he’s talking about. India wouldn’t associate with him if he didn’t. Her stamp of approval means something to me.
“Fine.” I should dial back the grudging tone, but he’s got to know I wouldn’t be thrilled with his verdict.
“Suck it up, buttercup. I’m going to make sure you have a good time. Now let me tell you about this little place I know. It’s called the Black House.”
Chapter Six
‡
“Y ou’re sure this is safe?”
My demand doesn’t faze the man sitting in the driver’s seat—who the fuck gets a Jag for a rental car, anyway?—but I didn’t figure it would. Rey is cool personified, and if anything, I should be grateful he doesn’t roll his eyes at me. He’d be a nightmare to play poker with. No tells at all.
“I wouldn’t have brought you here if it weren’t safe. This is probably the safest place on earth for you to play, to be honest. You’ve all got the same things to lose.”
We’ve talked about this before, and I understand on an intellectual level, it’s true. But it makes me uneasy that my entire professional future relies on a kinky version of mutually assured destruction. Sure, it worked out in the end, but I don’t know that I want to live my life as a personal Cold War.
“Look, Slade. I know you’re nervous, and I don’t blame you. But think about it this way. Sex scandals rock Washington all the time. Mistresses and call girls coming forward, homophobes getting caught with their dicks stuck through glory holes, secret families coming to light.”
I can think of at least one example of each of those scenarios. Not to mention the nuclear fallout and a hellscape littered with ruined careers. This is not making me feel any better, but my heavy glare doesn’t seem to affect him at all.
“When’s the last time you heard about a high-powered lobbyist who’s into being used as a human toilet? Or a senator whose idea of a good time on a Saturday night is using her
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