Page 1 of Dominated

ONE

Bale

Iwas known as the watcher. That wasn’t just my title. It was what I was paid millions of dollars to do.

To observe the mark.

To gather all the information requested by my client.

To hand over the desired data and disappear.

Unseen.

Unheard.

Like a ghost.

Every assignment was different, but each one sent me to a specific location, where I would spend months studying the mark, sometimes up to a year. The time frame depended on how long it took me to obtain what information was needed.

My most recent job had me bouncing between Miami and LA for the last three months.

Those were the cities where Pepper Michaels had built Lush, her famous, exclusive sex club. Where she constantly traveled back and forth, managing her business.

But she didn’t just oversee operations.

She participated.

Like clockwork, she entered the club at exactly nine in the evening every Friday. She ordered a vodka soda from the bartender with two limes, one lemon, sipping it while she walked to her private room, located on the right corridor off the club’s main chamber. At the end of the long hallway, she unlocked the last door on the right, closing it behind her.

Eight minutes later, a man would go inside her room. In Miami, that man was always Jacob Walls, forty-six years of age, an entrepreneur and investor. In LA, that man was always Luke Duff, thirty-nine years of age, a cosmetic surgeon.

Both men were single—not that it mattered. What happened inside the club wasn’t about love. Or infidelity. It was about sexual practices and cravings that couldn’t be satisfied in a normal bedroom setting.

Lush had been established to explore those fantasies in a safe environment, where members were vetted, where identities would never be revealed or aired to the public.

What happened within those walls of the sex club stayed within those walls.

And anywhere between one to three hours after Pepper went inside her private room, she would exit.

Alone.

With an empty glass in her hand, she would then reenter the main chamber, turning toward a hallway that was reserved for staff and through a locked door that required a code to open. From there, she would climb a set of stairs to an apartment on the second floor.

Both clubs had an identical layout.

She would refill her glass once she got upstairs, this time without the soda, using the leftover limes and lemon, and she would walk into the living room, standing at the far wall, which was made entirely of glass.

Glass that looked like a mirror if anyone glanced up from the main chamber of the sex club below.

But it gave Pepper a different vantage point than the intricate camera system she watched from the monitors inside her apartments and homes. While in front of that double-sided mirror, looking at the faces of her members, the sexual acts they were committing, she would tame her hair, which had turned wild from the hours she spent on the table in her private room.

She’d savor her second drink.

She’d find her breath again.

She’d settle the raging thoughts in her mind, the tingles that roared in her cunt.

And she’d feel an overwhelming contentment that she’d built a business that didn’t just appease her particular needs, but also the needs of a budding population that was growing as rapidly as the club’s waiting list.

---