Page 18 of Interview with a Sadist
“And to experience in front of all these people,” I go on, fully immersed in the scene in front of me. “It must be such a rush. How do you bring yourself to do it?”
Maddy sighs. “I wouldn't know. I’ve never done it before.”
I turn to her with a furrowed brow. “You’ve never been flogged before?”
“Of course I have,” she says. “I’ve never been on display like this.”
“Not your cup of tea, huh?”
“No, it is. I’ve just never been in a relationship that serious. You have to understand what it is you're seeing here. These people are committed to each other on a level most couples won’t reach. It’s not that one of them is into voyeurism—both of themwant to display their lifestyletogether. It’s an agreement and union that’s much deeper than it looks, and while I’ve wanted to be put on display, no one has ever wanted to claim and display me.”
I look at Maddy and find that she’s suddenly looking very vulnerable, which really stands out in the environment we’re in. She looks timid as whatever she is thinking about plays in her mind like an emotional movie that only she can see. We don't know each other, but I suddenly feel for her. I get the sense that a BDSM relationship has the power to become much deeper than a regular one, and Maddy has seen something I couldn't even dream of.
“Are you okay?” I ask as Maddy’s eyes begin to mist, but she quickly shakes her head and erases all traces of emotion just as fast as they came.
“I’m fine,” she snips without looking at me. “Let’s go, and stop pausing to look in every room.”
Maddy spins around, determined to leave behind her emotions, and I follow her lead. The two of us quickly walk out of the impact room and turn the corner, and the second we return to the hall, we nearly slam into an intimidating figure standing in front of us like a silent sentry.
“Nolan,” Maddy says, startled by his sudden presence.
Nolan, wearing black pants with a form-fitting black button-up, glances at her for a moment, before looking directly at me, his blue eyes glowing under the strobe lights.
“Good evening, Miss Barrett,” he says with a wicked grin. “Welcome to The Black Collar. I’m so glad you could make it.”
ChapterThirteen
“I was just on my way to bring her to you,” Maddy says before I can speak. Nolan’s eyes flash over to her, but I don't see the same spark in them that he had when he looked at me.
“It’s all good, Maddy,” he says, extending his hand for me to take. “I appreciate you. We’re okay from here. Head back upstairs.”
I can feel Maddy’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my face as I reach out and take Nolan’s hand. She doesn't say anything else, but I know she’s watching as Nolan guides me away from the first hall of the club, leaving Maddy standing there by herself.
Nolan, with my hand firmly in his, walks us through the packed club. Strobe lights dance on the walls and floor, shining brightly on the many club-goers who are engaging in all types of fun. I try to focus on exactly what’s taking place behind me, but with my hand being held by Nolan, it’s hard to care about anything else.
As he walks, the sea of people parts for us, forming a narrow path for us to take without many obstacles in the way. It’s as if everyone in the club knows who Nolan is, because they’re all staring at him like he’s a mythical creature walking amongst men. The women clearly gawk at him before frowning at me for holding his hand, and the men stare with admiration and reverence pouring from their eyes. I’m clearly walking with the most revered man in the building, and it gives me a rush I didn’t expect.
When we reach the bar, every seat is full. We approach from the front, giving me a clear view of the massive display of alcohol on the back wall, and the bald Black man behind the counter. His face is completely devoid of hair, and he smiles a brilliant white smile when he sees us coming toward him. Just as we reach the counter, he leans forward and whispers into the ear of a man sitting at the bar. The man spins around, makes eye contact with Nolan, and immediately stands up to offer his seat.
“Nice to see you again, Nolan,” the man says, holding his beer bottle. “Here you go.”
The man presents his seat like a new car, and Nolan guides me toward it.
“Thank you. If you don't mind, I’ll have Miss Barrett take this one,” Nolan says.
“Of course,” the man says, just before the woman next to him stands up, leaving her seat for Nolan to take. When we sit, both of them scurry away, looking over their shoulder with smiling faces as if they just saw a celebrity they’ve loved for years.
“Wow,” I exclaim. “You have quite the effect on people here.”
“I suppose so,” Nolan says.
“Man, you better stop acting modest,” the bartender says, still shining his radiant smile. He steps closer to us wearing a tight black T-shirt with a literal leather black collar around his neck. “Don't believe him when he acts like that. He knows they love him, and he knows why.”
“Is that so?” I say, turning to Nolan completely intrigued. “Well, do tell, Mr. Carter.”
“I don't think there’s anything to tell, but I’m sure Ethan will have something to say,” Nolan replies, and the bartender doesn't miss a beat.
“Oh, absolutely I do,” he chirps. “When Nolan first opened this kinky little haven for us, he made a point of demonstrating the proper way to use every room in the club. He asked for volunteers from the staff or the crowd to step inside the cages or to be bound to a Saint Andrew’s Cross, but everyone involved had to give their explicit consent and be prepared to use their safe word. In those early days, people got to see him really be in his element, and when you witness Nolan Carter in his true comfort zone, it’s a sight to behold.”
