Page 6 of Pretty Little Thing

“You’re supposed to suppress those thoughts, Nora,” she says with a laugh.

“I don’t want to suppress. My natural state is the exact opposite. I need to project and act out and I can’t do that sitting behind a desk all damn day.”

Trix nods. “Didn’t you join a kick-boxing class?”

“Yeah, but they booted me out for being too scary.”

“Yikes.” She reaches for her glass. “Well, you’re on your own.”

“Not necessarily,” Melanie says. “There’s one very obvious omission from your list, Nor.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask.

She clears her throat and nudges Trix’s arm. “Back me up, cheerleader. Give me a B!”

Trix grins. “B!”

“Give me a D!”

“D!”

“Give me an S! M!”

“BDSM!”they cry in unison.

I glance into the wide, staring eyes of silent patrons around us. “Please don’t ever do that again,” I say. “I really like this place.”

Melanie exhales. “I’m telling ya, girlfriend, it’ll change your life.”

“No,” I say, recoiling. “I don’t want to be that cliché boss who demands control or whatever. It’s so stupid.”

“That’s a myth!” she says. “Statistically, CEOs and other authoritative figures act as subs. Not Doms.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Yeah. They spend all day bossing other people around, barking orders, telling them what to do and where to go. That’s exhausting. They need a few hours a week to let go and submit to someone else’s demands. It’s cathartic as fuck and it’s exactly what you need.”

I pause to think. “That does make a strange bit of sense...”

Melanie nods. “What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” she asks.

“Shoving a cold turkey sub down my throat at my desk, probably.”

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to Judy’s.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You’re the boss,” she says with confusion. “You can take an hour lunch.”

“No, I mean…” I lower my voice. “Judy’s.”

“Why not?” She turns up a hand. “You don’t have to pay a membership or commit to anything. Just go there with me, take a look around, dip your toes into the seas of sinful things, and you’ll go from there. They’re not even open until dusk, so you’ll get a chance to see the good stuff up close.”

I furrow my brow. “You can just walk into a sex club and look around while it’s closed?”

“It’s not a sex club. It’s a kink club,” she argues. “There’s a difference. And yes, you can, with me. Judy and I go way back. One call and we’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”

“What’s the difference between a sex club and a kink club?” I ask.

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