Page 33 of Twisted Obsession

I sulked, so involved in my despair that I hadn’t noticed the stage had been cleared, and the scene had been returned to its normal setting.

“May I use the bathroom, Sir?” I forced out between tight lips. My wet panties stuck to me as the scent of my arousal drifted into my nose, pointing out the wet sticky mess down below. Although I had nearly recovered from my torture, my body still shook with the grief of my punishment.

Ansel stood and reached back to help me up. He guided me past onlookers and towards the restroom.

He stopped when we neared a hallway. “All the way down and to the left. And don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll know.” He lifted a brow, and his sharp gaze dared me to disobey him.

I didn’t answer or call him Sir as I knew he would like.

Instead, my eyes rolled in his direction before I turned and clumped down the long, dim hall. Although I recalled him telling me that the spanking would be my only pass, it didn’t stifle my anger. In my defense, I was new to this life.

I shuffled into the restroom where the light was a few shades lighter than the inside of the club. Choosing the first empty stall, I locked myself inside and took care of my business. After exiting the stall, I stood at the sink and washed my hands.

A glance in the mirror showed my makeup and hair still in place although I’d been thoroughly seduced and left hanging.

A leggy brunette exited the stall a few doors down from the one I’d been in. She offered a friendly smile in the mirror as she washed and dried her hands. She’d started to walk away but stopped abruptly behind me. Her thumping heels and the jerk of her body caused me to back away. Her gaze remained locked on my necklace.

“You are one lucky lady,” she stated. Despite the spark of excitement in her voice, I placed my hand over my necklace, unsure of her intentions since her eyes had never left it.

“That is one of the most beautiful collars I’ve ever seen,” she stated as she reached towards it.

Collar? What the…

“Can I touch it,” she asked as her grin widened and her eyes flashed with curiosity. “My Dom never gives me anything this nice.”

I nodded, giving her permission since she appeared anxious to touch. My lips fell apart when she pinched the heart between her fingers and pulled until the necklace sat taunt against my neck.

The woman was distracted by the jewelry, so she hadn’t noticed my stunned state or the fact that I’d had no clue that I’d been wearing a collar.

Once the woman was done admiring it, she glanced into my eyes. “Don’t ever disappoint him. He’s got good taste, and he’s not cheap.”

When her tongue passed over her blood red lips I was aware she was talking about more than the collar I was wearing. She walked away with a smile, the click of her heels fading as she exited the door.

This night had been an eye-opening experience, filling in some of the blanks I’d had about BDSM. However, I had a sneaking suspicion that Ansel wanted to keep me in suspense about certain aspects of this life.

I believed he preferred me going into the situation with him blind so that I’d experience it without influence or preconceived notions. Also, I was starting to realize no amount of information would help me in my situation with Ansel. He was a unique case that created his own rules. No matter what this society’s rules were, Ansel would break them, change them, or create his own.

When I stepped out of the bathroom into the hall, a shot of panic danced over me before a creepy tingle swept through me, reached past my skull, and tugged at my mind. I hadn’t experienced the sensation since I was trapped in my family’s cellar, processing the dead.

A chill raced up my spine, chasing a shiver. I was being watched. I sensed it like I sensed Ansel watching me. My head darted around the dim hall and found emptiness.

When the hair on my neck began to prickle, my pace increased as the heels click-clacked faster. My feet wobbled, but I was determined to run if it became necessary.

Just as I cleared the hall to re-enter the club, Ansel stepped into my path, causing me to smack into his hard body. He gripped my arms to keep me from stumbling.

“What are you running from?” he asked as he tilted his head to glance past me and stare down the hall.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, feeling silly all of a sudden.

He glared down the hall for a long while before his gaze returned to my face.

“We’ll finish out the tour and head back home,” he announced. He gave the empty hall his attention one last time before we walked away.

The tour of the rest of the club revealed an array of impressively themed rooms. The place was huge. There were six levels above the ground floor that housed a hundred rooms with themes from hospital rooms, to a playground, to prison stalls.

The basement level contained twenty rooms and the stage that had showcased the couple having sex. The basement level was for all kinds of fetishes: Dom and sub swapping, body painting, and warm latex application. There was even a large pool filled with mud. I’d stood in awe of a huge pile of people mud wrestling in the nude. There were also three booths called train stations where men and women positioned themselves inside, wanting trains pulled on them. Whatever freaky fantasy your mind could conjure could be satisfied inside this club.

---