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A Wifey for the Bad Boy(42)

By:Ava May


“Hi,” she said again giving him a smile.

“You look lovely, he told her his voice though rich and gravelly. It wasn’t quite an octave deeper from his working voice, but there was something incredibly sexy about it.

“You’re my guest tonight,” he said, “and I need you to stay by my side, whatever happens. You be observing some scenes, things you might never have been exposed to before, not even in books. I know that you’re virgin to the sort of life, so please try to be casual and not shocked by whatever you see. Our club runs by safe, sane, consensual, sober. This means, that a submissive who doesn’t like what’s going on in the scene, can use their safe word to get out of it. Everything here is consensual, and done with everybody having all their faculties to them. There is no alcohol. There is a very light food.”

Melissa turned in her seat, regarding him. “Yes, I understand. I don’t think I would like it if this was a club where people didn’t get… If they didn’t have full control of everything that they were deciding to do.”

“Melissa, if you decide you want to explore any of this, we can do it on our own turf. Or, we can come back to the club. But for tonight you’re just an observer. As in my...”

Melissa rolled it over in her head and nodded. “Yes, I understand. I wouldn’t be comfortable doing anything without really understanding what the lifestyle is. Yes, I read about in books, but that’s a bit different than being in reality and the real life, isn’t it?”

He chuckled, another rich sound that went right into her settling somewhere by her pussy, arousing her. Oh, this was not good.

“That’s a very wise thing,” he told her. “I can assuage any curiosity that you have, and I can suggest some books in the romance realm, that will give you a better idea of what goes on in my life.”

Something niggled at Melissa; he said that before his life, his club. What did it mean? “You seem to be taking a lot of ownership of certain things. Is it just a part of who you are, or is there more significance.” She said the last is a statement, she already knew. It was just a matter of letting him know that she knew.

“Melissa, I’m a part owner in the club. I own about a quarter. Several of my friends and I decided to get involved in this venture many years ago, when I was a medical school and several of them were in law school. We wanted a safe place to explore the lifestyle. And this, from the warehouse, to setting up the infrastructure, to getting people in the lifestyle rather that those who wanted to gawk here. We’re now one of the most popular clubs on the coast.”

She blinked a few times, absorbing his words. “How do you keep your life and your lifestyle apart?” Certainly if someone came in to the office, who had seen Glenn whipping or binding someone, there would have been a reaction.

“Melissa, the club runs under very strict rules of anonymity. It costs a great deal to join the club, and even more to stay an active member. We know everything about our members, and they know well enough to keep quiet about who they see behind our doors. In our twelve years in business, we’ve never had a situation where anonymity was compromised. Not ever. That says something about our clientele.”

“And your lawyers,” she pointed out.

“Yes, indeed.”

He drove them to the warehouse district and they bypassed the ropes at the front of the club. “Ownership has its privileges,” he pointed out, pulling into a small private keyed entry parking lot behind the club. His BMW slid in between a couple of Mercedes; these people were not exactly struggling, were they?

“Come on in. as my guest you’ll get the full tour, starting at the offices.” He got out of the car and came around to take her hand. “And for tonight, you’re my lady.”

That made her heart race, and moisture collected between her legs. She pressed them together, trying not to whimper.

“Come. Inside.” She had a feeling she could come anywhere and any time, as long as he was offering.

Melissa followed Glenn into a door, a burly security guard handed her a bright pink wristband.

“Wear that. Everyone will know you’re a VIP guest,” he told her, and she slipped it on.

He took her first to his office, a small alcove adorned with beautiful BDSM portraits. He unlocked a drawer in his desk and motioned her to put her purse there.

“Tell me if any of this gets to be too intense for you.”

“I will.”

He guided her out of his office and into the main space of the club. A dance floor stood in the middle of the room, a stage at the far end. All around the sides were alcoves where people were...getting busy.