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Bought: Highest Bidder(7)

By:Lauren Landish


At least she took a paycheck to sign one after our hideous divorce. I  don't know why I'm surprised. She just wanted a paycheck all along. Just  like everyone else. They all just want a fucking paycheck.

I rise from the bed, feeling the need to take the paddle out again, but  not having my Submissive at hand. I crack my neck and forget about the  past. It's where it belongs. Tonight is about right now and needs that  must be filled. I've put this off long enough. I deserve this.

I huff a laugh and smirk as I think about Zander's reaction to my text.  He's the one who introduced me to this lifestyle. I learned to enjoy the  release and the control gained as a Dominant. But it's more than that.  It's the fulfillment of providing for a Submissive. Of training her and  watching her become truly sated with pleasure. Earning her trust and  devotion. It's a thrill, and a deeply satisfying one at that.

I've been craving it, but putting it off. It's difficult to put that  faith in another person. The faith that they'll listen, and learn to  trust you. It's even more difficult building trust that is real. But you  can't hide your body language, or your primitive needs. My last  Submissive tried to hide hers. I think she just wanted to play. But I  don't do pretend and make-believe. I require perfection. I give this my  all, and I expect every bit of the passion and energy that I put into  this in return. But my last Sub didn't give me that. She was defiant and  just wanted to be punished. Always. And each time she wanted it harder  and more painful. I don't have a fetish for pain. That doesn't interest  me. And she knew that. I took my collar off of her and never set foot in  Club X again.         

     



 

It's been almost a year since I've been to the club, a year since I've  had a Submissive and given in to these baser needs. I'm more than ready  to delve into my desires and put this room to good use.

I pocket the mask with a grin on my face. It's show time.





Chapter 6





Dahlia





Club X.

I suck in a sharp breath as I step through the club's doorway past the  lobby and into a darkened ballroom that I can only describe as pure  luxury. The floor is covered with plush, royal red carpet that is  intertwined with breathtaking intricate designs, and the clicks of my  heels are muted against the softness. The walls are painted a soft  purple and are lined with gold trim, while golden sconces give off a red  glow, suffusing the room with a sultry ambience.

High ceilings give the place depth as well as an airiness that makes my  skin prickle with excitement. I touch the bracelet at my wrist. This one  is temporary, but everyone is wearing them. It's just cream-colored  rubber, but it'll look like Carla's when I join. If I join. The rubber  is joined by three interlocking metal rings, with the center ring being  black. She said it shows the other members that I'm a Submissive and  that I prefer carte blanche, so the Dom has free range with me. The very  thought makes my core heat with desire. Right now my bracelet is color  is limited to cream because I'm learning. It will be apparent to  everyone who sees it that I'm a BDSM virgin. There are other colors, but  they aren't for my tastes. The knowledge makes my breath still in my  lungs as men pass, glancing at my wrist with interest, but I'm still  taking in the splendor of the club.

There are scores of finely set tables throughout the large room, as well  as booths with velvet seating lining the walls. At the end of the room  sits a stage, the large red curtains closed, hiding the secret of what  lies beyond it. On the far left side, there's a high-end bar illuminated  by neon blue light and outfitted with what looks like every drink known  to man. Soft, elegant music plays over surround speakers that are  artfully hidden, only adding to the luxurious vibe.

But the most exciting thing about Club X isn't the extravagant finery.  It's the people. I walk behind Carla and Bruce, in awe of it all. My  eyes dart this way and that, trying to take in everything, and I try,  unsuccessfully, to calm my nerves. I settle my eyes on Carla's backside  and my cheeks grow rosy as I admire the view. She looks fucking hot  tonight. She's wearing a short dress that barely covers her butt cheeks  and hugs her body, showcasing every delicious curve. In fact, every  woman here has on a dress that barely covers her ass.

They're everywhere.

Beautiful young women and masked young men that are dressed in slick  high dollar suits fill the room. Even though their faces are hidden  behind masks, I can almost feel the ambition, drive and authority  radiating from these men, and it makes me weak in the knees.

Power. Wealth. Sex. It's all here, under one roof.

Looking around, I don't see a single man without a mask. Some are black  and simple. Others are silver and themed with animals. The men sit at  tables or booths alone, watching the room with an almost predatory gaze,  while other men sit in groups talking amongst each other quietly. Other  Dominants are accompanied by a beautiful girl or two, but it's clear  who's in charge. Nearly all the women are in Submissive poses or in the  act of being led around.

I watch as a tall man in a dark suit, his face hidden behind a metallic  mask, walks past me holding a chain that clinks as he walks. It's  attached to a dark-haired girl clothed in a silver shift dress. As she  moves I can see the gown is nothing more than thin slits of fabric  stitched together, her skin exposed in between the gaps. My eyes widen  as the Dom tugs slightly, and the leash pulls at the collar around her  throat. The Submissive tumbles forward slightly and the man catches her,  pulling her into his hard chest and whispering into her ear. She smiles  against his suit jacket as he chuckles and she nods her head slightly,  looking up at him and responding with a soft, "Yes, sir," to whatever  he's said.

He releases her and walks easily to a table where another man is already sitting.

The seated man, a tall blond, is eyeing the Dom's Sub with intense  interest, his legs planted out wide. He mutters something to the Sub,  and she blushes at whatever it is.

"Answer him," I hear the Dom command, looking at his Submissive with a heated gaze.

The Sub looks hesitant, although lust is easily read on her face before  uttering something too low for me to hear and nodding slightly. At this,  the Dom takes a seat at the table next to the blond man, and pulls his  Sub into his lap, spreading her legs out wide and placing the balls of  her bare feet on the leather-covered bench on either side of his thighs.  The blond man moves in close and lowers the top of the Sub's dress,  taking out her right breast. My lips part in disbelief. I watch as he  takes her nipple into his mouth and as he slides his hand up between her  legs. Her head falls back against her Dom's shoulder, and she moans  softly with pleasure.         

     



 

My breath hitches, and my eyes widen.

I glance around the room and then focus back on them. No one around  seems to notice or think this out of the ordinary, and I feel my core  heat at the erotic sight. Seeing as how this is a BDSM club, I expected  to walk in on a wild orgy, where Doms would be fucking their Subs into  submission, but the vibe is much more high class than that, giving off  an almost secretive and seductive feel. But I'm still shocked to see  something like that. My blood heats with desire, and my body feels  aflame.

As I continue to watch the blond man suck on her tit, my nipples pebble  and my breathing becomes ragged. I tear my eyes away, my cheeks burning  with shame, when Carla whispers in my ear, "Sexy, isn't it?"

Carla is gazing at me, her breasts heaving as her eyes dart past me to  the couple and then back to me. I can't get over Carla's dress; it looks  expensive, and it's covered with glittering sequins. Both sides have  long slits that show off her long legs, and nearly expose her pussy. Her  hair is styled into a sultry deep side part, and her makeup is  flawless. A Sub collar adorns her neck, and serves only to enhance her  sexiness. It's a thin leather strap with a polished gold tag.

She leans in and whispers, her eyes still on the scene to our left, "Bruce doesn't share me. That's not our thing."

Her boyfriend and Dom, Bruce, looms behind her, his metallic mask  glinting in the red ambient lighting, his dark, vested suit fitting  right in with all the other wealthy men in attendance. He doesn't have a  leash on Carla, and a lot of couples don't seem to have them either.  Tonight, he let Carla be free of her chain, which she's told me she  customarily wears, but has forbidden her to walk more than a few feet  from him. I was there when he told her the rules, and I couldn't believe  how eagerly she accepted them. She wants to please him. She craves his  authority and his conditions. It's a dynamic that's foreign to me. I'd  only met Bruce once before this. They seem like an average enough  couple. But this is different. Much different. Here in Club X, he's the  master of Carla's world.

Even though I know the basics of the dynamics behind a Dom and his Sub,  it's going to take me awhile to get used to seeing Carla so subservient  since she's such a hands-on, career-driven woman. I didn't expect this.  It's one thing to fantasize about the lifestyle. It's quite another to  be immersed in it.