Page 52 of Interview with a Sadist
I don’t know what to think about Maddy. Although we didn’t talk about her almost at all after she stormed out of the club, she never left my mind. While I obviously don’t know exactly what’s going on with her, I’m not an idiot. Either she and Nolan were once a thing, or she’s fixated on him and doesn’t want anybody else getting close.
I didn’t want to bring it up in front of E and J, but seeing as how Nolan invited me back to the club tonight, I need to know the details about Maddy if he and I are going to continue down this path. I can tell from the way Nolan deals with her that he’s used to doing it, so if he knows what’s up, I need to as well, because she doesn’t seem to be getting any better. As for Nolan’s invite, how could I possibly turn it down?
This week has been nothing if not chaotic. I have new feelings popping up and poking holes in my life, causing leaks all over the place that have made me feel lost at sea. Sometimes I’m floating on my back with my face to the sun, other times I’m face-down on the verge of drowning from the onslaught. It all came to a head this morning when Melissa decided to show up to my apartment and cause another leak, flooding my life with an overload of emotion and frustration. So, when Nolan asked me to come to the club, I jumped at the opportunity to blow off some steam. Nolan is the best thing in my life at the moment, plus this gives me another chance to go into the club to see how it operates without looking at it like a journalist. Let’s face it, tonight’s visit is not going to be about my story in the Inquirer. Tonight is about me.
After struggling to choose an outfit, I decide to settle on something sexy and comfortable at the same time—something that will help me fit into the dark atmosphere of the club. I go with an all-black lounge set, with a high split top that opens above my navel on one side, and tight leggings. Black and gray heels button up the outfit, and after getting my hair and makeup perfect, I step out of the apartment and start my trip to The Black Collar.
The entire drive over is filled with excitement and anxiety. The last time I was at the club, I was doing my best to document what I was seeing so I could describe it to the Inquirer’s readers. I wanted to see every corner, and breathe in the atmosphere of the place so I could represent it honestly as a journalist. Now, as I park my car, the glowing sign above the door is completely different. I’m here as a guest of the club and of Nolan, but I’m also a participant in the lifestyle. I’m not just here to view it, I’m here to take part in it. I’m here to live it, and by the time I reach the bouncer, I feel like I’m looking over the side of a high bridge, my stomach in knots and my mind racing too fast for me to settle on anything.
Music blares from inside the club as I reach the same bouncer I met the first time I was here. He speaks into a radio on his shoulder just as I step up to him, and before I can say a word, the door to the club opens and out steps Nolan. The small line of people trying to get in without filling out the online questionnaire grows silent as Nolan walks up to me wearing black pants and a black, quarter-zip polo shirt. The torso of the shirt is black, but the sleeves and collar are black, white, and gray plaid. As usual, he looks phenomenal and sucks up all of the attention on the street.
“Hey,” he says, greeting me with a hug and soft kiss on the neck when he leans in.
I shiver and push away a strong desire to beg him to bite me in the same spot. “Hey.”
“You look incredible,” he says, and I can’t help but fixate on the fact that he’s not trying to be quiet. It doesn't matter to him that we’re in front of his bouncer and an entire line of people trying to get into the club. He compliments me without regard to anyone else. It’s like he’s claiming me.
“Thank you,” I answer, smiling. “So do you, which is nothing new.”
“Thanks. You ready for your second dose of this place?”
“You have no idea.”
“That's my girl. Let’s go.”
Nolan takes me by the hand and leads me away from the gawking crowd, and we step into the atmosphere of The Black Collar. The curtains are up and the doors are open, giving a full view of all of the dark rooms brightened by bouncing lights of varying colors. Bass from the music resounds inside my body, making my heart feel like it’s giving off extra beats, and the smell of leather and perfume fills the air.
This is it. This is the life inside a BDSM club, and I breathe it in. The sound of cracking whips snapping against exposed flesh consumes me, making me jealous of whoever is enduring the pain, because I now know what it’s like to be hit. I understand the sensation of beautiful agony, and I want it again. Even with my nipples still sore from last night, I’m ready for more. I want the sting of a flogger on my ass again.
As Nolan leads me down the hall on our way to the bar, I glance inside each room as we pass them. My heart flutters when I see men and women strapped to the St. Andrew’s Crosses in the impact room, and I yearn to experience their pleasure. Unlike last time, I’m not seeing all of this for the first time and wondering how it makes me feel. I know how I feel, and what’s more is that I know how it feels. By the time we reach the dancefloor I feel swamped by my desire to play. It’s new to me and I can barely believe it, but just walking through the club has made me horny as fuck.
When we finally reach the bar, I find myself biting my lip as I look up at the cages above the dancefloor. Nolan orders us a bottle of Cristal from Ethan, but my eyes stay locked onto the man and woman in the center cage. The two of them put on a fabulous show—the woman dancing with her back to the man as he flogs her over and over again. Just seeing the toy in his hands mesmerizes me. I want to be her, and I want Nolan to be him.
“Hey, you good?” Nolan asks, trying to pull my attention from the cage.
“I’m fine,” I answer.
“Take this.”
I turn around to find Nolan holding a double shot of a clear liquid in front of me.
“What is it?” I ask as I take it from him.
“Just vodka,” he answers. “It’s to jumpstart the night, then we sip the Cristal.”
Nolan knocks back his shot, and I follow his lead, feeling the burn of the vodka as it sloshes down my throat and heats me up from the inside out. We follow that up by taking a big enough swig of Cristal to cut our glasses in half, and the concoction in my belly quickly mixes with my desires, multiplying the feeling of lowered inhibitions in an instant.
“Fuck,” I say aloud, although I intended to whisper it, and Nolan laughs.
“What’s up? Are you okay? You seem …differenttonight.”
“What is it about this place?” I ask, turning around to look out onto the dancefloor and up at the cages filled with happy, sexy people. “I couldn’t see it before, but I understand it a bit more now. There’s electricity in the atmosphere, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this alive in my entire life.” Nolan looks at me with a flirtatious smirk. “What?” I say, smiling back.
“Freedom looks good on you,” he replies before taking another swig of Cristal.
“Freedom? Freedom from what?”
“From the closed-mindedness you were raised with. Freedom from being jailed inside your own judgment of yourself and others for anything outside the norm. This is freedom to be who you truly are, and to understand that wanting to feel pleasure doesn’t make you wrong, it makes you smart. Life is short, and it’ll be over before any of us know it. What you’re feeling now is the understanding of how short it all is, and that it would be such a waste not to enjoy it—not to do what makes you happy. I see the realization on your face, Bree, and it’s fucking beautiful.
