Chapter 12

THE WEEK CRAWLED BY for Piper. If she had a choice, she would have stayed home behind the locks, alarms, and cameras Tristan put in to keep her safe. But hiding in fear wouldn’t pay the bills. She had closings scheduled, and even though filming hadn’t started yet, she had appointments at the studio with wardrobe, hair, and makeup, and table reads began the following week.

Each time she ventured out, her senses were on high alert, her eyes scanning the streets for potential threats. Days went by with no more mysterious notes or other unsettling events. She should have been relieved, but Piper didn’t delude herself into thinking the creep had crawled back under his rock. By Saturday, she was practically vibrating with nervous energy and desperately needed a distraction. She just wasn’t sure Club Decadence was it.

Constantly on edge all week, the last thing she needed was a weekend with more of the same. But Josie was counting on her being there, and she had put in a lot of time and effort into completing their new club wear for tonight.

Resigned to wingman status for her friend, she slipped on the low-cut vest with nothing underneath like Josie had designed. Drawing the line at going commando, she wiggled into the matching micro miniskirt over her panties. Both garments hugged her body perfectly and accentuated her curves, revealing an enticing amount of cleavage and what she felt was her best asset, her long legs—tanned from the California sun. Josie had also provided shoes—the most adorable spike-heeled booties—the entire outfit made from a buttery-soft pale-pink leather.

Stepping back from the mirror, she scrutinized her reflection and grinned at what she saw. No denying she looked hot. If she ran into Tristan tonight and he didn’t see her for who she was—an adventurous, desirable, grown woman—he was a fool.

Traffic slowed her down more than expected, as did parking, and she arrived fifteen minutes late. As Piper hurried up the sidewalk, she spotted her friend pacing out front. She had on a long cape, like something from a Renaissance fair. It billowed around her as she turned, briefly revealing purple lace garters and matching patterned stockings.

It reminded her to pull her knee-length sweater closer to her body. It was an insane thing to wear in ninety-degree heat, but no way would she walk down Beverly Blvd with her boobs spilling out of her top in a skirt up to her armpits. She had dreams of having an IMDb page by the time she turned twenty-eight, not a rap sheet for solicitation.

“You made it!” Josie exclaimed when she spotted her. “I thought you were going to stand me up.”

“Never,” she replied, slightly winded when she reached her.

Together, they turned and gazed up at Club Decadence. The last time, they had parked in the garage and entered through the service entrance. This was her first time seeing it from the street. With its drab gray walls and plain front doors, to say it lacked curb appeal was an understatement.

“It’s so bland,” her friend observed on the same page as her. “No one driving by would suspect a world of kink and pleasure lies behind its uninspiring exterior. But I suppose that was what they were going for.”

Piper released a trembling sigh. Tonight, it was no longer just business—she was a potential member and an active participant. The brief tour had only given her a glimpse. A shiver of dread and anticipation coursed through her at what awaited her during prime time.

Josie’s trembling fingers enveloped hers, revealing she wasn’t as confident as she let on. “Are you ready?”

“No,” was her honest response, but she gripped her hand higher, determined to at least get inside. “If what I see freaks me the heck out, at least I can run in my more sensible shoes.” They both glanced down, comparing Josie’s five-inch heels to her three-inch boots. Piper had learned a while back most men felt uncomfortable looking up at a woman, and she now stood at a solid six feet. But one didn’t wear sensible flats with a miniskirt to a sex club.

“You can’t leave me,” Josie protested. “You’re my wingman and vice versa!”

Piper met her glittering-green gaze. “I was teasing. We’re in this together.”

“Unless a hot dom sweeps us off our feet.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “With my luck lately, I have zero chance of it becoming a fairy tale.”

“You sound like the grump next door. Think positive.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve got one on the hook already.”

“We should have a signal, just in case,” Josie suggested.

“More than screaming ‘red’ at the top of our lungs?”

Her fellow kink club novice chuckled, although it sounded constrained. “That is a given. I mean a signal that says, ‘I’m into him and ready to go for it.’”

Piper tapped her lips with a forefinger. “I guess yelling Geronimo would be awkward in conversation.”

Her friend’s head swiveled toward her, auburn brows arched in surprise. “Piper Emory is not a cynic. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ve had a rough week.”

“Understood.” Trying but failing to hide her disappointment, she offered, “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

“No,” Piper stated firmly. “We squeezed ourselves into leather, which ain’t easy. Since we’re here and look amazing, I say we go for it. Besides, won’t Master Axyl be looking for you?”

She bit her lip, clearly uncertain. “He was flirty, but we didn’t make concrete plans, and he gave us both invitations.”

“He has plans,” Piper assured her. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

“He’s gorgeous, funny, and oozes alpha vibes. I wouldn’t say no,” she said dreamily.

“For an ‘I’m into him’ green light word, how about ‘bright,’ as in brighter days are ahead, both in our personal and professional lives?”

“There’s the sunshine-and-daffodils friend I love.”

“Spare me,” Piper said, wrinkling her nose. “Besides, it takes one to know one. You’re an optimist at heart, too, aren’t you?”

Josie bumped her with her shoulder. “Don’t let that get around. I’m a badass leather-stitching bitch, and you know it.”

They exchanged smiles that turned into laughter. Then, with arms linked, they climbed the front steps of LA’s most notorious sex club and boldly walked inside.

The lobby was packed shoulder to shoulder, and it took them thirty minutes to get to the check-in counter. They each received a white ribbon to wear “in plain sight” to indicate their novice status. Then, they were waved inside because their paperwork was in order well before tonight.

The bar was at least twenty times bigger but just as crowded as the lobby.

“How about a little liquid courage?” Piper suggested, eyeing the wall of people at the bar that stretched almost the full length of the room.

“I’ll pass,” Josie replied. “I have too many butterflies in my stomach. If I drink anything, I’ll be sick.”

With only one option remaining, they made their way to the massive gothic doors of the Decadence dungeon. Hand in hand, they entered only to face yet another line at another counter. This time, they were asked to surrender their shoes.

“Club rules for all submissives,” the attendant explained when they reached her. Behind her was a wall of cubbies like at the shoe rental at a bowling alley. Josie, in particular, was annoyed to lose the boost in height her heels gave her but handed them over.

“We don’t need an escort?” Piper asked, recalling what Axyl had told them about nonmembers.

“Not when Master Eric opens the doors. It doesn’t happen often, but he wants everyone to see the special demonstration tonight. Later, when all the stations are open, and everything is in full swing, you’ll need someone with you.” The perky young woman, dressed entirely in black except for her striking crimson lips and nails, diligently stamped their hands and a square of paper with matching numbers. “This is your claim number. We don’t issue stubs. Wearing as little as we do, where would we tuck one away?” she explained with a wink and a grin. “You’re all set. There are dungeon monitors and club masters throughout the playroom to answer questions or assist as needed. Have fun.”

As if waiting for their cue, the party of four behind them surged forward, practically pushing her and Josie aside as they eagerly handed over their shoes.

“Onward or turn back?” Josie asked after the four women rushed past.

Although retreating to the lounge, or maybe the street, was becoming more appealing by the second, Piper stated, “Onward, and quickly, before I chicken out.”

They walked to the archway at the end of the hall, which opened onto the immense playroom where the vendor event had taken place. It looked vastly different. The lights were low. Instead of tables and display racks, velvet ropes sectioned off play spaces, and the air was electric with a whole new level of excitement.

The dim lighting didn’t prevent Piper from seeing the array of bondage equipment, from padded crosses, tables, and benches to a bunch of stuff she didn’t recognize. Just then, one of the dommes from the vendor fair walked by, leading a bare-chested, barefoot man on a leash. Not staring was impossible.

“Where to now?” Piper asked.

“We walk the circuit with everyone else,” Josie stated, sounding more like her confident self.

“The what?”

“The path around the stations. Axyl explained during our nickel tour.”

“I must have missed that. But in my defense, I was a little distracted.”

“Understood,” Josie replied with a little laugh. “Let me see if I can do it justice.” She linked arms with Piper to descend the stairs and merge with the crowd, moving clockwise around the room. “They laid out the floor in rings, like a dartboard. Each one has a different purpose and level of intensity. The outer ring has booths and couches for chatting, observing, and aftercare. It’s the least intense experience, but he told me anything can happen anywhere in the playroom, so expect the unexpected.”

“Since I don’t know what to expect, it’s all unexpected.”

“For you and me both, sister,” Josie agreed, distracted by a vertical spinning wheel with metal cuffs bolted into it along the outer edge. It was easier to imagine its purpose than the pulleys and chains above them, but she was starting to get the idea.

“Josie!” Piper warned, pulling her to a stop and narrowly avoiding a collision with the half-naked couple ahead of them, the woman wearing only a harness and a furry tail.

“Thanks. That would have been awkward.” Her focus returned to the crowd around them. “It’s hard not to gawk though. Where was I?”

“The floor layout,” Piper supplied.

“That’s right. Moving inward is the circuit, a path that takes you through the entire room, ensuring you don’t miss any points of interest. Axyl said the voyeurs like to hang out here watching the stations, which comprise the next ring, where most of the action happens. Finally, in the bullseye is the Decadence center stage. It’s rigged with hydraulics, letting it rise thirty feet in the air. He said it revolves so it’s like theater in the round, and the view is good from just about anywhere in the room.”

They stopped at a spanking bench where a man in leather pants and nothing else except a sheen of sweat was using a flogger on his submissive. The thwaps of every stroke reverberated over the noise of the crowd. Unbelievably, she was laughing and, from her comments, appeared to be egging him on.

“Put a little muscle behind those swats, sir!” the sub bound to the bench called out.

In response, a whoosh and a much louder thwap echoed through the room. The stalwart young woman winced but, despite her bright-red bottom, wasn’t impressed.

“That’s it,” she declared. “Like it or not, I’m buying spinach next time I go to the store and putting it in everything.”

The dom dropped the flogger and called loud enough for all to hear, “That sassy mouth earned you the paddle.”

“Now we’re talking!”

Their banter back and forth roused a chorus of laughter from those looking on.

“The intensity increases toward the center?”

Josie nodded. “According to Master Axyl. He also said some of the stuff on center stage freaks out even veteran members and mentioned something about a carousel.”

“What’s that?”

“No clue. He said that was advanced and didn’t elaborate.”

Piper looked at her wide-eyed. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, are we, Dorothy?”

“Nope. And this yellow brick road doesn’t lead to the Emerald City.”

“I’m steering clear of center stage tonight. Maybe forever,” Piper asserted.

“Same here,” Josie agreed, her nervous laughter revealing she shared her apprehension.

As they passed the stations, featuring a few kinky things she recognized from their tour and much more that she didn’t, they followed the crowd migrating to the back of the room.

“What part of the dartboard is this?” Piper asked, noting they weren’t even close to the center bullseye.

“The first demo of the night requires more space than the center stage provides,” a tall man in a leather vest and a black armband stamped with bright orange DM explained. “But we’ll put it to use before the night ends.” His gaze shifted between Josie in purple and her in pink, and he grinned. “You two sure brighten up the place. But you’ll have to hurry if you want a spot up front where you can see. The show is about to begin.”

The excited hum in the room was mounting, and Piper was feeding on it, especially after the pall of fear and paranoia hanging over her head the past week. She grabbed Josie’s hand and pulled her along to where a large group had gathered near the rear wall.

Chains overhead rattled, and she heard the distinct creak of leather. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to see over the people bunched together ahead of her without success.

“Shoes would have been helpful,” her friend, who was half a foot shorter, said pointedly.

A woman wearing a black catsuit resembling one of Josie’s designs heard her. “Clear the way,” she called, authority ringing. “Petite subbies up front.”

Using the riding crop she carried, she quickly cleared them a path to the velvet ropes cordoning off the station.

“Your assistant may stay with you, Josie, of Leather and Lace, but she’ll have to crouch. Consider this a tip for your exquisite workmanship.” The woman ran her hand down her formfitting garment. “This is the most comfortable bodysuit I’ve ever worn. I may never take it off.”

“I’m so glad you like it, ma’am,” Josie said, beaming. “And thank you for your help.”

Cat woman, clearly a domme, didn’t respond as she disappeared into the crowd behind them.

“That’s Mistress Estelle,” a sub next to them with a pink ribbon advised. “Don’t let the special treatment go to your head. One random act of kindness per customer is her strict motto. Believe me, you don’t want to get on her bad side.”

Piper could have sworn the little brunette rubbed her butt. She couldn’t say for sure in the crush of people and didn’t dare ask. Just then, a red spotlight switched on overhead, illuminating the play space in front of them. A collective gasp rose from the onlookers, seeing a sub, bound and gagged in intricately woven ropes, suspended from a chain dangling from the ceiling.

Movement from the shadows drew her eye. When the dom stepped into the spotlight, she and Josie reached for each other because it was Tristan. He moved confidently around the inverted sub as his deep baritone silenced the hum of the crowd.

“Good evening. I’m Master Tristan. Tonight’s demonstration features Japanese rope bondage, also known as shibari. Centuries ago, it was used to capture, transport, and punish prisoners. In modern times, it has evolved into a sensual art form. While sex is often involved, practitioners also use it for meditation, relaxation, and aesthetic pursuits. It doesn’t come without risks, so training for the rope top, or rigger, is essential. I am fortunate to have the lovely Narissa as my volunteer rope bottom tonight.”

His fingers, long and tapered, gently encircled her upper arm, offering what appeared to be reassurance and unspoken communication before he turned her away from the avid observers. A hum of approval filled the air, seeing her arms crossed behind her, tied at the wrists, a series of complex knots running along her spine.

“Since she cannot speak, the yellow ball she holds is her safe signal. She only has to squeeze it to alert me that something is wrong.”

“Demonstrate for our audience,” he ordered Narissa.

A high squeak came immediately after.

“Very good,” he replied, giving her another squeeze before continuing his introduction. “Please refrain from talking during the demonstration so that I may hear. There will be a brief Q&A session at the end. Let’s begin.”

His authoritative tone had a soothing, almost-hypnotic quality, that was a departure from his usual annoyance when speaking to her. Completely enthralled, she watched as Tristan tightened the slack on the suspension ropes attached to her thighs until, with her spine arched and her knees bent behind her, she faced the floor. He added two more smaller gauge ropes to the mix, tying them around each big toe and connecting them to the ring as well.

“This is called the butterfly.” He gave her a subtle push so that she rotated slowly before the captivated audience. “From this position, I can easily switch to other poses, like side-lying. Or, to intensify the pose and enhance the curve of her spine, I can add a hair tie.”

Tristan demonstrated, weaving another small gauge rope around her ponytail and attaching it to one of her toes.

The way he seamlessly maneuvered Narissa’s body with skill and the utmost care, intently focused on her while still addressing his audience, fascinated Piper. As did the bondage itself, which was oddly beautiful and completely mesmerizing. She never imagined in all her fantasies how sensual and arousing it could be.

Piper would give anything to trade places with Narissa, to be in the confines of Tristan’s ropes, to feel the texture against her skin, and the brush of his fingers as he tested the knots. The idea of relinquishing control and submitting to his every command sent a jolt of desire sizzling through her. As a wave of intense heat followed, she shifted uncomfortably from side to side.

Josie nudged her with an elbow. “Looks like our favorite neighbor isn’t always grumpy,” she whispered. “He’s in his element. I’ve never seen him so relaxed, have you?”

Piper didn’t reply. Instead, she shook her head, afraid a telltale quiver when she spoke might reveal her desires or, heaven forbid, an impassioned moan.

Tristan demonstrated another pose, the crab tie, using quick-release hardware, which he said wasn’t true shibari, but was more practical for the half-hour time slot allotted to him. It placed Narissa upright with her arms bound behind her, knees to her shoulders and feet spread wide apart, which to Piper very much resembled a crab. Then he inverted her, and she dangled upside down, her long braid nearly touching the floor. Without the skimpy thong, there would be no barriers to whatever debauchery her rope master desired.

He further showed the benefits of the pulleys, raising and lowering her so that any of her orifices were at the perfect height for her master to give or receive pleasure. But he didn’t take the demonstration that far, surprising Piper by ending it there.

Deep down, she was relieved. She didn’t know how to handle watching the man she wanted with another woman.

With a reassuring hand on Narissa’s calf, Tristan turned to the crowd at the ropes. “This concludes my demo for the evening.”

A barrage of questions immediately bombarded him. The most frequent one asked—if he gave one-on-one lessons. He was cordial in his responses but politely shut it down after about ten minutes.

“I’m afraid my job isn’t done yet. Narissa has been bound for a while, and I can’t leave her hanging.” There was a ripple of laughter in response to his play on words. “Aftercare comes before any additional Q&A. Check with me later on. I’ll be around.”

A murmur of understanding rippled through the audience, and they slowly dispersed. Tristan shifted his attention back to Narissa, but his gaze inadvertently swept over her and Josie. His body tensed, and his previously relaxed expression twisted back into its familiar frown.

“Uh-oh,” her friend murmured.

Instead of storming over and demanding she get out—again—he focused his attention on his sub, lowering her to the floor, then began releasing her from the ropes.

“He didn’t seem happy to see us. I think that’s our cue to go.” Piper was already on the move, winding through the remaining bystanders.

“Not us. You,” Josie corrected as she hurried after her. “Let’s head to the bar. We each get a free drink tonight. After that, I could use one.”

Warm all over and shaken by the beauty and eroticism of the scene, as well as Tristan’s dominating presence, Piper couldn’t agree more. When he found her, which she didn’t doubt he would, he’d show her the door. But throwing her out wouldn’t erase what she’d seen or extinguish the newfound hunger to explore more of this world of ropes and raw sexuality.

A sharp crack sounded, halting her in her tracks. “What was that?”

“A whip,” Josie replied, passing her on the way to the door. “I heard someone mention that’s the next demonstration.”

Almost instantly, she was brought back to the reality that pain often accompanied kink and submission. Oddly, she had the urge to explore that side of it, too, but she wanted Tristan to be the one to introduce her—with strict limits and no whips.

But how, with him dead set against her being in his club? He barely tolerated her living next door—the frustrating, obstinate man. Joining the club would mean entering his world where he was comfortable, skilled, and respected. Her intrusion wouldn’t be fair to him, but exclusion would be equally unfair to her.

When the whip cracked again, followed by a loud moan, she rushed past her friend.

They found two empty stools at the bar, and, once settled, Piper blurted out, “This can’t be the only BDSM club in LA.”

“According to my clients, who, as I’ve said, love to talk about this stuff, Club Decadence is the best. There are public clubs, but they say they’re pretty much regular bars and dance clubs with special rooms in the back.” Josie swiveled to face her, concern furrowing her brow. “You’re not thinking about going to one, are you? I got the impression they weren’t safe.”

“Your friend is right. The public clubs are nothing more than meat markets filled with dom wannabes. They might have a bouncer or two out front, but they don’t prescreen like we do. Anyone who pays the cover is allowed in. I do not recommend them.” They looked up at a big, burly, auburn-haired man on the other side of the bar. From the towel thrown over one shoulder, he was tending bar. “We can discuss that more in-depth later,” he went on as he splayed his giant hands on the bar and leaned toward them. “But the burning issues of the moment are why would Master Tristan run either of you lovely subbies off, and why is he bearing down on you like an angry viper about to strike?”

His gaze moved from them to a point over their heads.

Josie swiveled on her stool. “Brace yourself, Piper,” came her warning an instant later.

She didn’t turn to look. She didn’t have to. In the full-length mirror behind the shelves of liquor bottles, she could see the crowd parting for Tristan, who stalked toward her, looking less like a snake and more like a volcano ready to erupt.

Cheese and mice! How did she look him in the eye after that scene? He would read the longing on her face. More urgent, considering the aroused state she was in, how did she overcome her sweet little farm-girl persona and convince him to give her a chance?