The Darkest Corners (The Club Book 4)

 

 

The Club

 

The Darkest Corners

 

 
 
By
Katherine Rhodes

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The Darkest Corners

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2015 © Katherine Rhodes

 

Print:
ISBN-13: 978-1511957458

ISBN-10: 151195745X

 

Published by JRA Stevens

Cover by JRA Stevens

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

 

 

Karim, Texas has a delightfully dirty little secret:

The Club

 

A private, exclusive BDSM world lies beyond the door of the unassuming 3-story building just off main street. All are welcome, but beyond the throbbing beats from the DJ and generous taps of the bartenders, no one know what lies upstairs.

 

Except, of course, those who are invited. Few are.

Even fewer stay.

 

But if you are one of the lucky ones, one of the brave ones… all of your fantasies will come true.

The darkest corners hold the most sinful delights.

 

Tally Fremanis lives in the dark corners, seeking those sinful delights. It's been her whole life since college. A founding owner of The Club, she is a demanding mistress both in and out of the bedroom.

 

Discretion in all matters is her modus operandi, and to this end The Club needs new security system. But when she hires Liam Dunfrees, she finds herself wondering if there might be more to him.

 

The sparks that fly in the bedroom burn both Tally and Liam. With other scars beneath the surface, neither of them are sure they have the strength to fight for this potential new love.

 

At the club, there are three rules--

1. Keep your mouth shut.

2. Keep your mouth shut

3. Keep your mouth shut.

 

But sometimes, someone has to speak up...

ONE

NYU, Seven years before

 

 

 

The tears simply wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t a full-out mournful wailing, or even the gut clenching sob, but a steady, sad, unstoppable stream of tears. That was the way Eileen found her when she walked in from her film class at eleven-thirty that night.

“Oh, God, Tally, what’s wrong!” Eileen’s concern was truly genuine, dropping her notebook and purse on the floor as she slammed the door.

Tally just shook her head. “It’s so stupid. So stupid.”

“Tally, you look like hell! What is wrong? Just tell me you’re not hurt!”

Tally jerked her head in the negative. “No. I’m not hurt. This is stupid.” She smeared the tears away from the corners of her eyes.

Eileen stood and walked to the bathroom, then returned with tissues and the soda she snagged from the fridge. Handing the tissue to Tally, Eileen held the soda until she was done wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before handing her the soda. “You’re sure this isn’t someone hurting you?”

“It’s stupid, Ei,” Tally repeated.

“You gotta tell me, girl, before I make that call.”

Tally sniffled. “You know how I had it bad for Gerald, right? And we went for drinks and dinner and hung out?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Can I finish? This isn’t his fault.”

Eileen nodded apologetically.

Tally continued, “Well, we went out for drinks after sparring tonight. He asked me back to his place. I told him it was my first time when we were there, and he was nothing but the perfect gentleman and kind and careful. But it’s me, Eileen. I had to go into my own head and find a fantasy to get there.”

“Oh, Tally, I’m so sorry. You might just be one of those women who need a lot of help—”

“That wasn’t it at all!” Tally wept, trying to catch the tears before they fell. “He was attentive. He knew what he was doing with himself
and
with me. But it was just awful. Just so boring. Just a sweaty, awkward dance in the sheets for something I’ve done for myself in the dark.”

Eileen looked sadly at her friend. “I’m so sorry. Could be that he’s bad in bed anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Tally sniffled. “I guess I thought it would be more…”

“More what?”

“Daring? Kinky? Adventurous? Rewarding? Damn it!” Tally dealt with the tears angrily this time. “It was perfect and I was just miserable. Folding cardboard would have been more exciting!”

Eileen laughed. “As bad as all that?”

Tally nodded. “I left, Ei. I couldn’t stay. I have to find a new judo school. I can’t face him again. He’s so perfect, and it was just so not what I expected.”

Eileen sat down next to her and stretched out her legs. “So, let’s analyze a bit here before we start thinking something is wrong.” Tally nodded. “First, you said he was a gentleman. So we can eliminate the ring and run on him. How about…you were freaked out by a naked man?”

“Art class? The human form?”

“Ooh, that’s right. The model with the big unit. Nng. Wish you’d had a camera.”

“Would have needed a long lens.”

“High five.” Eileen held her hand up, and Tally complied. “So. Not afraid of the peen. Did it maybe hurt more than you thought it should?”

“Not even.” Tally grimaced. “He was expert at relaxing me. Didn’t hurt a bit until he was well past that.”

“Could be that!” Eileen held up a finger in success.

“No, because after he started moving it was fine.”

Eileen bobbed her head, the habit she had when she was thinking and weighing options. “Did you feel dirty?”

“Not even remotely.”

“Could it have something to do with your daddy issues?” Eileen looked hopeful. “Maybe that’s it! You didn’t feel like what you were doing was good because you grew up thinking that what you were doing was wrong. Sinful. And that in some Freudian manner, your daddy issues got in the way.”

“I didn’t feel that way.”

Eileen turned and looked at her. “And that’s the thing about Freud. You don’t feel like that. It has to do with your subconscious. Since your father almost beat the Bible through your skull, it could be that it’s sitting there, waiting to pounce and make you feel like you’ve sinned because you’ve had sex outside of marriage.”

Tally thought for a moment. “Well, I guess there’s chance that could be it.”

“Do you like Gerald?”

“Absolutely,” Tally said. “I told you, he’s a gentleman.”

“Give it another try. If cardboard is still more exciting, then we’ll work on it a little more. Including getting you some therapy for those daddy issues!”

*  *  *

They walked to the black delivery door, and Eileen rapped on the metal, hard. Tally wanted to smack her and tell her to calm down, but she was afraid that if she raised her arms that high, her breasts would pop out of the excuse for a shirt she was wearing.

The previous Sunday she had told Gerald it wasn’t working. The sex wasn’t doing anything for her, and she couldn’t hold him back from finding someone who adored what he could do for them. She’d told him she would always have a special place for him, and it was true. She did think he was a wonderful man—just not wonderful for her.

And Eileen had taken on the task of trying to figure out what was going wrong with her sexual encounters, ‘why pizza boxes were more enticing than actual peen’, as she put it.

The door slammed open, and Eileen walked in. “I got it!”

Tally looked up at her from the biology book. “What? Ei, come on, you know I have a big test tomorrow.”

“Good, because then you can come out and celebrate with me.” She handed Tally a sheet of paper.

Tally read the sheet over once. “This looks like a psychology experiment.”

“Well, it is,” Eileen said. “For my Sexual psych class. The professor is a Dom, and he wants us to come to his club so we can see what BDSM is and what it isn’t. I
begged
him to let me bring you, Talls. I had to beg him. He had wrangled this for just the twelve students in his practicum. He had to make phone calls to get you permission. It’s a real, honest-to-God dungeon. No one can get into these things. Sometimes you can’t even find them if you’re looking for them and know people.”

“No pressure.”

“Come on, Tallulah. It’s not daddy, it’s not the guy, it’s not the orgasms. It’s not guys, it’s not girls.” Eileen sat on the bed. “Sex is awesome. It is. I swear it. We just have to find you your niche. You might be kinky, and that’s cool. You’ll never find out if you don’t at least check the place out.”

Tally read the sheet again. “I just have to go? Not do anything? Not get involved?”

“No participation is required.”

“Fine.” Tally sighed, handing the paper back. “Let’s do it. Since Daddy’s already disowned me, there’s no reason not to go the whole nine yards.”

And now, she stood in front of the black door, with her roommate and best friend knocking for entrance into what was supposed to be a BDSM dungeon. It was a long minute before the door opened, and Tally had to admit: she wasn’t impressed.

The man was dressed in jeans and polo. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him. “What do you want?”

“Professor Simon sent me,” Eileen answered, holding out the paper.

The dark figure in jeans took the paper and skimmed it over. “What class?”

“Sexual psychology.”

“What assignment?”

That was an odd question, but Eileen didn’t seem fazed. “Deviant and Non-Deviant Behavior in Sadomasochism and Dominance-Submission.”

“What’s your name? And I swear to God if you tell me your real name I will slam this door in your face.”

“Doni,” Eileen said.

“Says here your friend isn’t in the class, but Professor Simon will vouch for her on your word.” The man turned to Tally. “You get that this is completely out of the norm.”

“Everything about it.” Tally nodded.

“Your name, same rules.”

Well, shit
. Tally paused a moment and then smiled. “Beebee,” she offered.

The man handed the paper back to Eileen. “The rules here are simple. One: everything is safe, sane and consensual. Two: if you drink too much and act the ass, you will be ejected. Three: your kink is not everyone’s kink, and that’s okay, and no judgments. Four, and the final rule: what happens here, stays here. Don’t cross the community, you will find that their reach is long, and you don’t want to be on the wrong end of it. Everything clear?”

Eileen nodded, and Tally waited until he looked at her to add her nod.

He motioned them into the dim hallway and slammed the door behind them. There were a few red bulbs on the walls as he gestured for them to follow. The hall was deceptively long, and finally they arrived at another door—this one made of wood and rather ornate.

“There are stairs behind this door. Go straight down and get your masks. You’ll be given a locker, and you can put your handbags in there. Do not carry them around The Club, it’s too dangerous.” He opened the door, and light illuminated his face in time for them to see a smile flash across it. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies.”

Eileen smiled and nodded, heading down the stairs. The man in the hall laid a hand on Tally’s arm. “Don’t be afraid to ask questions, my pretty. I think you will be intrigued by what you find below.”

Tally inclined her head and hurried after Eileen, to find her collecting a mask and a key at the desk at the bottom of the stairs.

“Masks?” Tally asked quietly.

“Thursday nights are the only nights we let non-members in,” the desk clerk said. Tally tried not to be shocked by the woman—she had a bright silver collar with a large lock on it, a tight fitted corset that her breasts were crushed into, a thong, and thigh high patent leather boots. Nothing else. Her hair was bound up, and when she turned to grab the key for Tally, she could see the piercings in her back that allowed for a corset lacing against her skin.

“Are there people here who would have to worry about that?” Eileen asked, in full researcher mode.

The clerk looked confused by the question.  “I can’t answer that. You haven’t signed a member NDA, so there’s no way we could let you in without a mask.” She pointed to a white curtain on a black wall to the right. “Through there. Please put your bags away, we don’t want you getting hurt or causing injury. Put your masks on, and head out into the main club through the back of the changing room.” She smiled. “Enjoy.”

The dressing room was plush, red, and dimly lit. There were a few people lying around with masks on, some just resting, some being attended to. Tally grabbed Eileen’s arm and steered her to a mirror. “I think we need to get these on. Now. I don’t think anyone is going to be comfortable around us until we do.”

Eileen nodded and a moment later, they had the masks on and adjusted. Finding the lockers, they deposited their purses and jackets, and after locking the door, put the key lanyards around their necks.

The Club opened before them, a plush, luxurious, warmly lit open space with red and gold accents everywhere. They could survey the area from where they were, standing on an elevated walk that led off to the right and left. There was a rich wood bar at the other end and alcoves in every direction. Tables were filled with people, chatting, flirting, drinking, smiling…all anonymously tonight.

Eileen led the way to the right to the stairs so they could reach the main floor. There were a few couples against the railing, some chatting, some flirting, and one couple—

—fucking.

Tally averted her eyes, staring at Eileen’s back, trying not to see them, trying not to notice the casual rhythm he had at her back, the skirt hiked to her waist or the woman’s hand snaked between her legs. She tried not to see the look of complete pleasure on her face, or the breasts that spilled out of the bra she was barely wearing. She tried to ignore the silver chain that hung between from nipple to nipple and didn’t want to see the black collar she wore that the chain was also attached to. She didn’t listen as the woman groaned gutturally as her partner pulled her hair back, pulling her neck up, pulling the chain, tugging on her nipples.

Tally felt her whole body responding to the scene, and she wanted to get to the bottom of the stairs, sit at the table below them and watch as they put themselves on display.

“Voyeurism,” Eileen whispered. “Fascinating. The idea of having people watching you heightens the pleasure.”

“There’s no
idea
about that,” Tally answered. “They are fucking to be seen.”

She turned back to the room and realized it was not an unusual site. Not everyone was engaged in intercourse, but there was copious touching, teasing going on all around them. There were waiters and waitresses in various states of dress. A few of the men and women had a partner with them, kneeling at their feet. Some of them had a partner in their lap. And as they walked further back, the alcoves were revealed.

Women and men occupied them as couples or groups. There were all manner of sexual games going on in them, whips and crops, crosses and benches, candles and whipped cream. Every booth was in use; some were open for viewing, and others were shut for privacy.

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