Page 11 of Bound By Sin
I made my way down the narrow, dimly lit corridor connecting the reception area to the first floor and pushed open the door that led to Club Desire.
After I left Los Angeles, I remained close with Brian; it wasn’t like I could get rid of him even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. He became my rock when Valentino left. He held me when I cried over the love of my life without question and without expecting anything in return. And when I found out I was pregnant, he remained supportive without asking a shit ton of questions. He also informed me his close friend, Elijah Mason, my now brother-in-law, had recently opened an establishment just like Club Jade in L.A., and gave me an invite to attend after I had Nia. Now, I was one of the most requested Dommes in Chicago.
Club Desire only allowed members to give out one invite a year with an opportunity to become a member after a thorough background check and a Non-Disclosure Agreement was signed. I had no problem paying the $250,000 membership fee or signing the NDA. While Club Desire didn’t completely sate my need for pain, over the years, I’d been able to help people, just like Valentino had done for me. I found other ways to get the pain I needed. If Valentino ever found out, he’d probably strangle me, but I had to do what I needed to do for myself. He hated when I used the studded paddle on myself, but it gave me what I needed. I hadn’t found anyone I could trust to do it for me, so it was left up to me to get it any way I could.
I slipped into the elevator before anyone else entered and took it to the third floor of Club Desire. With Valentino on my mind, I needed the time alone to cleanse myself of the thoughts of him before I stepped into room five. Dwelling on him wouldn’t change anything. He left me. He didn’t want what we shared. While he was Nia’s father, and I would always love him, he would never be a part of her life.
Or mine.
“After eighteen years, you’d think I’d already come to terms with the realization we’re over.”
When the elevator doors slid open, I took a deep breath and let the sexual side of me take over. To the elites of Chicago who frequented this club, I wasn’t Tara Weatherly, the famous actress or supermodel. I was Mistress Tara, Chicago’s top Domme. Now, it was time to become her.
The top floor’s sensuous music surrounded me. Patrons in little to no clothing danced and took their pleasure wherever they wanted, with whomever they wanted. Some people found a place like this disgusting, but I found freedom here. Freedom to enjoy what I liked without judgment and consequence.
This floor was more extravagant than the other floors. Crystal cages hung from the ceilings with nude female and male aerial dancers moving in sync, the thud of carnal music echoing around the room.
On the elevated stage, strapped by leather bindings to a St. Andrews Cross, was Malcolm, his beautiful bronzed skin tinged with red markings. A black blindfold covered his sinful eyes, and his fully erect cock was trapped in a cock cage. One of the other mistresses who frequented the club, Daniella, circled him with a riding crop, slapping him as she went, and the echo of skin meeting leather mixed with his groans of pain, pleasure, and the music. The ecstasy on his face made my cravings to receive pain skyrocket, and arousal pooled between my thighs. Instead of playing the role of mistress, I longed to play the role of a submissive.
I pulled my eyes from the scene and slowly approached room five. My senses overtook my entire body. Goose pimples covered my skin despite the fitted blazer I wore. I tried to ignore the eyes on me as members standing in the corridor parted like the Red Sea as I walked past. Like any other time I moved through the club, lust filled their eyes. Jealousy, also. But I wasn’t in the mood to interact with anyone other than the man waiting for me. With my chin held high, I focused on the sound of my heels clicking against the floor instead of those around me.
Anxiety never played a factor when it came to performing a scene, so the sensation was confusing, but I shook it off. Having a few orgasms usually calmed me down, my body and mind getting lost in the moment. Tonight, I feared only pain would relieve the anxiety over Nia’s father being named for all the world to see in some fucking tabloid.
I didn’t trust anyone at Club Desire to give me the pain I really needed. I could only get that fromhim,but he hadn’t been around for almost twenty years. Maybe that was the reason I was anxious. I knew I really couldn’t get the release I needed.
I took another breath and released it, then turned the knob of the black-paneled door. When I pushed it open and stepped over the threshold into the room, the lights were already off, but the flickers of several candles illuminated the room.
Although I preferred to set the scene since I had a certain way I liked to do things, it wasn’t unusual for some people to do some things themselves before I arrived because they were nervous. Also, some people were more comfortable with a dimly lit setting instead of bright lights, which I understood. In a setting like this, it was always better to be comfortable.
While I loved the candle setup, there was something about this arrangement that was different and very familiar. Awareness slithered across my skin, and the sense of anticipation or anxiousness I’d been feeling all day returned like a speeding bullet.
I faced away and closed the door, then shut my eyes, trying to hone my senses and center myself. It was quiet except for his breathing, echoing in the room.
I wasn’t sure of his intentions or even if the loud breathing was intentional at all, but it made me aware of his presence.
This is something Valentino would do.
Then, like a sledgehammer, his scent hit me. The fragrant musk and patchouli mixture of his cologne surrounded me like a warm blanket on a cold Chicago night. I took in a breath, inhaling the familiar scent. A smile touched my lips, and my body shuddered as I enjoyed the intoxicating aroma that reminded me so much of the man I once loved. The man I still loved.
“Valentino?” I called out.
It was instinct. Automatic.
My body stiffened for a moment because I thought I felt him, but then reality set in. I shook my head. “It’s not him, Tara,” I scolded myself. “It can’t be him. It can’t.”
Annoyed that my memories were intruding on my night, I pushed down the thoughts of Valentino once again. The thought of him being here at Club Desire left as quickly as it came. It wasn’t possible. Brian would have at least told me he was in town so I could avoid him at all costs.
The soft click of the lock instantly shifted my mood. No more worrying about things outside this room. No more thoughts of Valentino. No more thoughts of the world finding out about Nia’s father. In here, I controlled everything, even if outside, my life spiraled out of control. In here, I was Mistress Tara.
I unbuttoned the fitted black blazer, the hem reaching just below the curve of my ass. I slid it off my shoulders and placed it over the back of the chair located next to the door, leaving me in nothing but the black lace bodysuit I’d worn underneath and my stilettos.
He groaned.
The darkness of the room hid him in the shadows, despite the yellow glow coming from the candles he had already lit. His presence overwhelmed me. His power filled the room, so much so, I wanted to wrap myself in it.
Find comfort in it.
Submit to it.
