Page 3 of Let Me

“Okay,” I say in confused acceptance. Inspecting the clothes, I find they’re in my size and things I would actually wear. I strip and dress as quickly as I can in the provided black shorts and matching corset. No shoes were provided so I leave my feet bare. I fold my clothes neatly and leave them on the edge of the table out of my way.

I take the papers from my purse and flick through the stack, checking to be sure I didn’t miss anything. I read the rules carefully once more so I don’t break any of them again. Members get three chances before they’re booted from the club indefinitely for breaking any rules.

Most of them revolve around privacy and keeping club business inside the club and not going into detail about any events outside the club including its members. I sign the waiver for personal safety and then go over the questionnaire, double-checking my answers.

I like to think of myself as fairly open, but I’m not down for blood play or permanent scaring, so those are automatic nos for me. Most other things I’m open to at least trying though I’m undecided on humiliation. I’m not sure how far into that I’d be able to get. A lot of other things I tick off the yes column. Like praise kink and restraining. Nearing the end of my perusal, a knock sounds on the door and a woman dressed similarly to Andy enters.

“Hello, I’m Sheila. I’m here to go over things with you and answer any questions you might have.” We shake hands and she sits down in the other chair on the opposite side of the table.

After all my questions are answered, Sheila gives me a tour of the club and any rooms that aren’t privately in use. Then she goes over what is expected of me as far as the scholarship is concerned. I get one month to become acclimated with the club before I have to start volunteering. She doesn’t look at me like I’m less than her for not being able to pay the full fees. I find her non-judgment refreshing. So many people in the world take one look at you and make quick judgment calls. No one here has made me feel like they’ve done that, and I’ve been treated with the utmost respect since I stepped inside. Even Andy was very respectful in our brief encounter.

2 Introductions

It’s another week and a half before I’m able to have a free night to devote to Club Embrace. Mr. Neal is up for a promotion and has been putting in some long hours, which means I’m putting in longer hours. I also couldn’t blow off my friends for another weekend or their fragile egos might shatter. They can be so high maintenance, and I’m beginning to wonder why I bother when they make everything about themselves.

I pick my outfit and make sure it’s within the guidelines for the dress code. I’ve built up what this night might be so much in my head the anticipation is almost bubbling out of me.

When I’m done I make sure the seam in my thigh highs is straight in the back and slip my peacoat on. I check my hair and find it’s perfect. The shine on the slight bend I put in it shows the texture and health off nicely.

I wait until I get the alert on my phone for my ride and head out. The entire way to Club Embrace, my knee bounces as my nerves start to make their presence known. I pay the driver through the app on my phone and step out on the curb looking up at the building. I’d never know through the door is a BDSM club. It’s very plain and unremarkable.

Striding in on my three-inch black suede pumps, I’m greeted by Andy yet again.

“Hello, Miss Bennet.” He smiles warmly but professionally at me.

“Hi, Andy. Please call me Elli.”

“How about Miss Elli? We have to address all members with a title unless told otherwise by their Dom,” Andy reminds me.

Oh, right! Man, I need to pull my shit in or I’m going to get kicked out before I even make it in once. “Right, sorry. Miss Elli will be perfect.”

“Enjoy your evening.” Andy flashes his pearly white teeth at me and I breeze past him through the double doors, turning left instead of right like my first visit.

The left side leads me to member lockers which are the nicest lockers I’ve ever seen. I stow my phone and clutch inside, leaving my jacket for last. I take it off to reveal my cream, soft, pleather boy shorts edged in lace and matching halter top. The room is empty but for an employee standing by the bathroom entrance to hand out towels and take used ones if needed.

I’ve found I have natural submissive tendencies, but it takes a firm hand to keep me from topping from the bottom since it’s not easy for me to give up control.

On a deep breath, I make my way to the door that leads to the main communal room where the bar is and you can lounge and chat or occasionally have little scenes played out. No sex is allowed in the main room though. Sexual acts as part of a punishment or reward, sure, but out and out sex is a no go.

With my hand on the brass door handle, I open it and let the ambiance of the room hit me and carry me away with it. A melodious song plays softly in the background, loud enough to fill any silence but not to drown out soft conversation held between two people in intimate positions.

I let my feet take me up to the open bar where there is a two-drink limit and order a whiskey neat. The bartender makes my drink and moves on with a polite smile to help the next patron.

I lift the tumbler to my lips and take a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat, warming and soothing any rough edges on the inside. I swivel on my bar stool so I’m facing out and can get a better understanding of the room and the people in it.

A few people are sitting at one of the tables tucked into a corner with a male submissive curled up on his knees and his Domme’s feet resting on his back. She’s chatting away with a man sitting on her left. They laugh about something, but the man under her feet never moves even when she has the spike of her high heel shoe run down his spine.

I let my gaze travel on to another table where a man in a suit, jacket draped over the back of his chair drinking wine from a glass sharing it with a petit woman sitting on his lap; he’s got salt and pepper hair. It only adds to his allure and the aura of maturity around him.

Along the back wall is a man sitting on a plush couch, running his hand through the hair on his sub's hair. The sub seems to be in heaven with his eyes closed and his head resting on the Dom’s knee. The rest of the sub is curled up on the couch next to his Dom like a cat cuddling its owner.

“May I sit here?” a husky feminine voice sounds in my ear.

I look to see who the voice came from only to find the woman from the seedy club the other night that was a little pushy when I was leaving.

My back goes straight and each muscle in my body tenses with unease.

Without a reason that won’t seem rude, I say, “Sure.” And offer her a tight smile that’s gone before it can fully form on my lips. She dressed similarly to the other night if my memory serves me, and when she sits down it brings her close enough for me to get hit with her flowery perfume.

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