Page 20 of Interview with a Sadist
I release a loud exhale. “You don't know what’s in your own club, Nolan?”
“Of course I do, but I want to know whatyousaw.”
“Just … you know,” I say, shrugging while I shake my head. “Bondage, cages, and a room where people were being flogged and spanked.”
“Ah, impact play,” Nolan says with a smirk, obviously thinking about the specifics.
“Yes.”
“How did seeing it make you feel?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“Oh?” Nolan shoots back, his champagne glass on the tip of his lip. “Whatdoesn't matter?”
“How it made me feel, because I’m here forbusiness. Nothing else is supposed to matter besides the interview. I’m only supposed to be here for the story.”
Nolan takes a big swig of his champagne and places the glass on the bar.
“I hear you, and I can respect that,” he says. “But saying it doesn't matter how it made you feel is an admission that you did feelsomething. Not to mention you keep saying you're supposed to be here for the story.Supposed to be. It’s like you're trying to remind yourself so you don't forget. But why would you? What is it about being here that could make you forget why you came in the first place?”
I move my mouth to respond, but words don't come out. Instead, I freeze with my mouth open long enough to let bugs in, before realizing I have nothing to say. I pinch my lips together, looking down at the bar for some semblance of control over myself. My thoughts begin to swirl and I feel the arrival of an angel on my shoulder telling me that this isn’t how this is supposed to go—that I don't belong in a disgusting place like this. I hear the words playing in my head on a loop, and it’s as if they were placed there a long time ago to protect me from the outside world—the world of stepping out of line and breaking away from my upbringing. The words are bars keeping me trapped, and I suddenly hate them. I hate being caged against my will, because even in this foreign world of kink, I’m supposed to give my consent to being trapped. In my life, I was trapped before I ever knew what was happening.
Just as my world begins to feel even more unsteady, Nolan’s eyes find mine. I look up at him and see him smiling, ready to protect me from my own thoughts.
“Come with me,” he says. “Let’s get you out of your head. Let me show you what else this world has to offer.”
I swallow hard, knowing this is the moment I can choose to stay within the cage I was raised in, or break out of it, opening myself up to all the dangers of an unknown universe. This is my chance to be free, but freedom can seem terrifying when you’ve been told your whole life that emancipation will result in peril. Freedom will require stepping off a ledge without knowing what's beneath me. Who will catch me if I fall? That’s when I look down and see Nolan’s hand waiting to help me off the barstool. I take it, and allow myself to freefall into a new world.
ChapterFourteen
This is the second time Nolan has held my hand and guided me through the crowd, and my heart races the same as the first. Music blares with heavy thuds of bass pumping through the speakers above us, and the lights seem to be shining even brighter when the strobes flash on, painting everyone bright white every few seconds. The music has switched and become more uptempo, and everyone inside The Black Collar has responded with high energy dancing all around us. The dance floor is so packed, I wouldn't be surprised if it collapsed. No one would ever know it from the outside, but The Black Collar has a strong electric current running through it, and the people inside know how to have a magnificent time. I feel the energy coursing through me, mixing with the Cristal I drank and making my knees feel weak, and it’s Nolan who holds me steady on my feet.
He guides me around the bar, where there's a hidden backside of the club that I didn't know existed. I can tell from the obvious secrecy that this section will probably be more explicit. As we approach, I can see there are three rooms, all of which have black curtains blocking their entrance and a muscular man guarding the door. When we reach the first room, the doorman nods to Nolan.
“Good evening, Mr. Carter,” he says.
Nolan nods in return before turning to me. “All right, Bree” he starts, looking directly into my eyes and suddenly becoming serious. “You wanted to see what The Black Collar is really about. Well, this is it. Unlike the rooms at the front of the club, these rooms allow nudity. They also allow sex.”
I hold back my gasp and swallow it before Nolan has a chance to notice.
“Umm, okay,” I say, trying to sound calm. “You allow sex in here?”
“Protected sex that everyone in the room must consent to,” Nolan explains. “The security at the door asks everyone who enters if they know what they’re getting themselves into, and if they consent to seeing what’s behind the curtain. No one who comes to The Black Collar has to participate or even see what’s happening back here. There are no prostitutes or escorts in my club. Sex is not sold here, so please don't mistake what you're about to see for what you might expect at a brothel. Everyone here is a volunteer, and everyone abides by my very strict rules of consent and composure, which is what BDSM is really all about. Anyone acting out of line will be dealt with accordingly and banned from ever returning. If you're still thinking about your story at all, please be sure to include everything I just told you. If you're not thinking about the story, which is what I hope, please consider it all before answering my next question. Now, Bree, would you like to enter this first room? Do I have your consent to guide you inside?”
My heart suddenly goes into overdrive, pumping hard and fast as the question shoots into my veins and fills me with anxiety. There’s something powerful andterrifyingabout being asked directly for your consent. I wouldn't have fought him if he just dragged me into the room, but the fact that he stopped outside, explained what we might see, and then asked for my consent has me sweating bullets.
“Are the rooms different kinks, like the main hall?” I ask, trying to calm myself with more information.
“Yes,” Nolan answers.
“What’s this first room for?”
“This room is for sensation play.”
I clear my throat, wondering exactly what sensation play might mean. I could ask Nolan to explain, but I want to see it for myself.
“Okay. Yes, you have my consent to guide me, but if I ask to leave, you’ll let me without hesitating or trying to convince me to stay.”
