Page 25 of Devoured
CHAPTER 7
Iris
I crossed my arms over my chest, gawking at Roland as he went towards the lobby doors. When he realized I wasn’t following him, he flipped around.
“Do I need to dangle your precious club in front of you so that you obey?” he said, his voice edged with annoyance, “Or shall I punish you with humiliation instead?”
I sighed, hating myself for the fact that the punishment didn’t sound as bad as I knew it should have, then caught up to him. A black SUV was waiting out front for us. A driver opened the back door for us, and Roland let me get in first before he joined me. The inside was cream-colored leather. I scooted across the seat, the cushions subtly molding to my hand—was that memory foam? It was spacious, as if there should have been two rows of seats behind the driver, but instead, there was only one row, giving us ample space to stretch. A tinted window separated us from the driver’s side.
The car started, making the exhilaration and fright hit me. I was in a car with someone I barely knew, and no one knew where I was. I sent a quick text to Dahlia, then stowed my phone. She hadn’t answered any of my texts since she had left, but at least there was a record somewhere.
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded. Roland was swiping a message on his phone too but smiled when he heard the question. “I don’t really care for beingforcedto go anywhere.”
“Is this torture for you? Not knowing my exact plan?”
I flushed with heat, irritated that he could pinpoint my nerves down to a single sarcastic comment.
“It doesn’t give me a choice in the matter.”
“And you don’t have a choice.”
My stomach curled at those words. I hated it.
“Are you taking me to a dungeon?” I asked.
“It’s a secret,” he smirked. “Now take off your pants and spread those legs for me.”
Heat rolled through me, making me perspire. I didn’t want to do it, and Ididat the same time. I looked up at the driver’s window, then back to Roland.
“I thought you did this for a living,” Roland said, noticing my gaze. “What’s one more man seeing your cunt?”
I closed my eyes hard, willing myself to stay calm. But I couldn’t stop it. “Yes, I do this for a living. But you’re not paying me,” I retorted.
His words were quick: “No, but you are paying me for the club with your body.” I grabbed the seat beside me. I glanced up at the driver again, not exactly sure why this was hard for me. He followed my eyes, then said, “He can’t see through that glass. I wouldn’t share the view with anyone.” His tone lowered to a rumble, “Now take off your pants before I rip them off.”
I looked down at the floor of the car, reminding myself that this was good. Holding his interest like this was a good, necessary thing. If I obeyed, I would get the Dahlia District, and I could make sure that there was still a safe space for women to do sex work. That men like Jake never got close again.
I took off my shoes, then slipped the pants down my hips to my ankles, carefully letting the black panties stay in place. Once my shoes were on again, I spread my legs, sitting up straight, arching my back in a position I knew was enticing. I put my hands behind my head, my tits thrust out, showing off. Roland’s eyes were hot on me, his mouth open. I focused on the space beside his head, trying to transport myself mentally.I am a goddess, I told myself.A dominatrix. A woman men paid to see—
“Move the panties to the side,” he said, interrupting my mantra. I exhaled, then lifted my hips to slide them off, but he stopped me. “I didn’t say take them off, Iris. I said move them to the side. Listen carefully next time.”
I flushed, biting my lip, then swallowed all of those emotions down. I adjusted the panties back on my hips, then moved the fabric covering my pussy lips, bunching it to the side. Roland’s gaze was blazing, making me into an object. Like I would never find control again.
And somehow, for a millisecond, that was okay.
The car slowed, pulling into the parking lot for a concert venue. The marquee was bright.The Echo Presentswere in large block letters at the top, followed by the elegant logo forCirque du Ciel.
My heart rate grew faster. Cirque du Ciel? “You’re taking me to see Cirque du Ciel?” I asked. “Seriously?”
He motioned at my legs, and I spread them once again. “Like I said, I figured you needed to cheer up.”
I had never been to the Echo before. A few club members had insisted on taking me on generous paid dates there, but I always refused. The money always dropped off after they saw you outside of the club, the fantasy ruined by the daylight. But if they had they mentioned a Cirque du Ciel show? It would have been hard, really fucking hard, to say no. It was a circus company that specialized in glamour and magic, as much as it did in impressive acrobatics and dance. I had watched plenty of videos online, mostly searching for ideas for my own humble performances at the Dahlia District, but seeing the company in person? I had never had the chance. I had been practicing contortion since I was in the group home, then honed the skill at the Dahlia District, but even once I started making my own money, I refused to look at the Echo’s schedule. It was hard to part with the amount it took to get a seat in the nosebleeds.
“You’re into circus arts?” I asked. Roland rubbed his chin. “I mean, do people really go to these shows?”
“They’re constantly sold out, are they not?” he asked.
I shrugged. “You must be into theater arts then.”
