Page 90 of Mine

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good. Read through the papers, sign them, and we’ll go in.”

I took the papers over to a small table while Salt fit his mask over his face. More patrons flowed into the venue, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at them. I felt very out of place in the blouse and skirt I’d picked, given that they were all wearing more revealing outfits.

But Salt had told me to wear this. I trusted that he had a reason for it.

I read through the papers. The rules felt common sense, but I knew not everyone had the gift of that. No touching without consent, don’t interrupt scenes, zero tolerance for homophobia and racism. If you heard the word ‘red,’ notify one of the dungeon masters floating around. Each one wore a bright orange safety vest, so they couldn’t be missed. No blood play and no bodily fluids.

The bands that people wore told you what they were open to. Red meant no touching under any circumstances, and you belonged to someone. Green meant you were open to playing with others, or were searching for someone to play with. Yellow meant open to free use.

“How does free use work here?” I asked Salt.

“I’ll show you once we get inside,” he said.

I nodded, my nerves settling a little. I was still apprehensive, but I wasn’t the same Pepper of a couple weeks ago. I’d learned a lot about the BDSM community and I knew that consent was key. I knew that Salt was here with me, and that really, tonight was about being a fly on the wall.

The idea of being watched while Salt played with me turned me on.

Once I had everything signed, he plucked the papers from my fingers and slid behind the black curtain Boy had gone behind earlier. Within a moment, he returned.

“Do you work here?” I asked.

“Occasionally,” he said. “When I first joined the community, it was through Nancy.”

“Yourmother…”

He chuckled, his hand clasping my elbow and gently steering me down a hallway. We followed other people as they flowed out into a massive room. The ceilings were high and the lighting a pattern of white, blue, and purple. It was already full of people milling around watching different scenes that were taking place. Along the walls and at the center there were different pieces of equipment such as St. Andrew’s Crosses, benches, and what appeared to be a rig for suspension. I took it all in, my mind racing as I realized just how much someone could do here.

“Nancy and Beth are a couple who saved me. When I ran away from home, I didn’t have any money or any sort of job.”

“How old were you?” I asked, frowning. We were learning so much about each other today. I wanted to know everything I could about him, even though it was a bad idea.Allof this was a bad idea, but I was struggling to care anymore.

“I was seventeen when I left. And eighteen when I met Nancy. I went to a sleazy place that has since been shut down due to consent violations and a lot of other issues. A man offered me a lot of money to fuck him. I was going to do it, I needed the money, but she intervened. And don’t get me wrong, we all support sex work here. But that would not have been a good situation at all. I ended up going home with her and they fed me, clothed me, gave me a place to sleep where I didn’t have to be scared.” His expression glazed over as he guided me to a platform with a small table and chairs. He pulled one out for me. “Sit.”

I slid into the chair and thought he would take the other, but instead he moved close, sliding one arm around me and taking my face with his hand. He turned my attention across the room to where a woman was being tied down to a red bench.

“She’s wearing a yellow band,” he said softly. “The man tying her down is there for her safety and probably her Dom. Who knows? I can’t make assumptions.”

People crowded around her as the man finished tying her down. She was laid face down on the bench, her ankles spread and bound to two points, her wrists tied to the other two points. The man rose up and reached for the hem of her dress, tugging it back until her ass and pussy were exposed to the entire club.

She was beautiful.

My breath caught as I watched, completely entranced. Salt traced circles over my spine with his finger as he watchedme. Not her, not anyone else in the club. Not the gorgeous woman with her beautiful ass and pussy out for everyone to see.

Me.

His devoted attention stroked something inside of me, something hot and needy.

“Spread your legs, baby girl,” he whispered.

I did as he asked, biting my lower lip. The brief pain awakened something deeper. His calloused hand gripping my jaw slid down my neck, down my chest, trailing all the way down to my skirt.

How many times had I worn this skirt to work?

It wasn’t anything special. But the way his fingers grazed the tops of my thighs as he tugged the hem back made it feel like the sexiest thing I owned.

I watched as the woman’s presumed Dom cut her panties away with scissors. A couple of men waited patiently, but they were clearly ready for whatever was about to happen.

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