Page 14 of Endless Obsession

When Jaz is finished, it’s my turn to step up to the desk. I hand my I.D. to the gorgeous blonde with shaky fingers, and she looks at me appraisingly.

“First time?”

Is it that obvious? It must be. I nod, and she gives me a small smile, returning my I.D. after she types my name into the computer.

“Your friend has paid your entry fee. Since it’s your first time here, I need you to fill this out, so I can give you the correct bracelets.” She pushes a clipboard with a few sheets of paper on it and a fountain pen attached to it by a thin silver chain, and I stare at it blankly for a second before accepting it.

I hadn’t been expecting paperwork. I suddenly feel like I’m at the doctor’s office.

“You’re welcome to sit over there.” She gestures to where two wing chairs and a low bench are located, on the opposing wall. “Once you’re done, bring that back, and we’ll get you all squared away.”

I nod, retreating to one of the chairs. Jaz sinks down next to me, tapping away on her phone. “We’ll have to hand these over before we go in,” she tells me, gesturing to her phone, but I barely hear her. I’m too focused on the questionnaire in front of me, which is filled with things that I’ve never even considered before.

The first question is easy—am I interested in only men, only women, or both? I check the box next to men, and move onto the next. I can feel my cheeks flushing as I read it—it’s asking what types of sexual activity I’m interested in participating in. And from the start, it’s making me feel woefully inexperienced.

I’ve never had anal sex. I would say my experience with oral is pretty limited. And sure, I’ve had plenty of regular intercourse, but only in the three most basic positions.

I’m in way over my head.

I’m so tempted to give the woman back the questionnaire and head home. But while I might be boring, I’m not a quitter. And the thought of retreating back to the safety of my apartment, while Nate is getting lewd texts and pictures from the women he’s cheated on me with, feels worse than just being brave enough to try something new tonight.

But I truly don’t know how to answer these questions. I’ve never been tied up. I’ve never been spanked. I’ve never had a reason to think about whether I want to watch others have sex in public or be watched myself. The thought sends a tingle of heat through me, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet. Maybe not ever.

Biting my lip, I stand up and walk back to where the blonde woman is tapping away on her keyboard. “Excuse me,” I murmur politely, and she looks up at me.

“Oh! Are you finished?” She smiles, and I feel my cheeks heating even more.

“I—no. I just—I don’t know how to answer most of these. I’m not very experienced with this sort of thing. Maybe this isn’t the right place for me to go—” I hesitate, but her smile doesn’t falter.

“Here.” She looks at my paperwork, then slips two of the thin silicone bracelets out of the basket next to her—one dark blue and one a pale pink. “Dark blue means you’re only interested in men. The pink means you’re undecided as to your proclivities, and you want to explore.” She pauses. “This club is very exclusive, Ms. Williams. Everyone should respect your space, and accept any no you give as exactly that. But, should anyone push you and make you feel uncomfortable, go to one of the bartenders. The safe word is diamond. If you say that to one of them, they will ask who is bothering you and make sure security escorts them out, while making certain you are safe. If you feel overwhelmed at any point and need a moment of privacy, there are two doors to the left of the main floor, both with mask symbols on the fronts. Those are quiet rooms. Type in the passcode—four zeroes—and you’ll be able to go in and get some time to yourself.” She pauses. “Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

I shake my head. I can’t think of anything. I roll the bracelets onto my wrist, feeling nervous, but I don’t want to turn back now. Everything she’s said has given me a reason to feel better about the night, but it’s still all so unknown. I have no idea how I’m going to feel about all of this.

“If you’re ready, please hand over your electronics, and select and put on a mask before going through the door. And most of all, enjoy your night at Masquerade.” The woman smiles. “This club is meant for pleasure, Ms. Williams. You should enjoy yourself. There’s nothing to be ashamed of here.”

I know she can see the blush staining my cheeks. It’s not even that I’m ashamed—it’s that I don’t know what I want. I’ve never let myself think about it for all that long. It’s always felt like a pointless exercise, like allowing myself to want things that are impossible. I’m not the kind of person to fantasize about what I can’t have, much less what I thought didn’t exist.

But now I’m being told that I can have it—at least some of it. Something like it. And I don’t know what’s behind that door.

Jaz grabs my hand as we walk to the basket of masks, squeezing it. “Relax,” she whispers. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But I think you’re going to like it here.”

“What have you done?” I whisper, taking a black velvet domino mask out of the basket.

“A lot of things.” Jaz grins wickedly, selecting a matching mask.

“Private or in public?”

“Both.” She laughs at my shocked expression. “It’s amazing what a little anonymity will do for your inhibitions, Charlotte. No one here knows who you are. No one cares. And no one will ever know who you are outside of this place. In here, you’re free to want whatever you desire. You’re free to be yourself. No one will judge you.” She fastens the mask, pinning it into her hair as she fluffs it over the string. “You can do nothing. You can do everything. It’s all up to you.”

I feel a rush of adrenaline as she steps forward, pushing the door open. I hear a steady beat, music flooding the room as we walk in. The volume is high enough that it gives the place a club-like atmosphere, but not so loud that I don’t imagine that I’d be able to hear the sounds of pleasure if anyone started enjoying themselves out in the open. But it doesn’t look like anyone has started that kind of show yet.

Yet being the operative word. On the right side of the main floor, I can see a variety of things that I don’t quite know what they’re going to be used for—but my imagination is already running wild. Padded benches with leather cuffs hanging at the front and back. A long padded table that looks to be about waist-high. Two lacquered X’s, bigger than a person, against the back wall, with more leather cuffs hanging where wrists and ankles would line up. A long, lacquered cupboard next to them. I can only imagine what’s inside.

The club itself is beautifully decorated. The lighting shifts from a soft pink to red to a hazy glow, and the floor is marble tile. The walls are hung in heavy velvet drapes with thick gold cords, giving the entire main floor the feeling of being a modern bordello—fitting, with the masquerade theme. The half-moon bar that’s to the right, separating the areas for dancing and mingling from the section that looks to be for “play,” is black lacquer with a marble top, matching the cupboards on the right. The seating to the left is leather and velvet, in black and red, with marble-topped tables. The dance floor is black lacquered tiles, standing out in the sea of marble flooring, with the DJ booth in the far corner, half-hidden behind more velvet drapes. And I see the doors that the blonde woman told me about, with the gemstone-shaped cutouts on the front—the quiet rooms.

A winding staircase leads up to the second floor, with a railing that circles all the way around. When I look up, I see doors along that level, and I realize those must be private rooms. My pulse kicks up a notch, thinking about what might happen behind those doors.

Or what might happen in the alcoves that I see on the right side of the room, hidden behind more velvet drapes. An in-between of public and private, close enough to where the play will be happening to still be a partial voyeur, but without the absolute exposure of whatever will happen on those benches eventually.

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