It's been a week since I've started working at Harry's nonprofit and Andrea is kicking my ass.

She functions like a human computer and is always a thousand steps ahead.

Whatever grief I had about quitting college or not being challenged are gone. Dead. Demolished.

I've been trying to keep up. Training at the office, then practicing later in coffee shops.

Now, it's Friday and I'm drained.

Harry pops by near 5 o'clock with his signature grin. "I hear you're almost done with your three week training. It's been what? Six days?" He chuckles. "You don't have to rush."

"She's killing it!" Andrea taps her long acrylic nails on the keyboard, chewing gum.

"Because she has set the standard so high..." I glare playfully.

A blush colors her cheeks as she smiles at Harry. "Where'd you find this girl? I love her!"

He smirks. "I'll see you later, I'm guessing?"

Oh, they have plans together, huh?

Interesting. I didn't realize they're close.

"You betcha." After Harry leaves, she groans loudly. "I'm so not ready for the weekend."

"Big plans?"

"Uh-uh. Not at all. I had to get a second job, because roommate bailed on me."

Oh?

Is this...a sign?

My neck slowly turns towards her. "Roommate?"

"Yeah, I asked my girlfriend if she'd like to live together, but she doesn't know if she can afford it." She toys with her necklace anxiously.

Speaking of her necklace. I've noticed it before, but didn't dare to comment before.

It reminds me of something else. Something I've seen on the kinky section of Etsy and read online conversations about.

It's called a daytime collar. Not every sub has it. It's not a dynamic requirement in any shape or form, but some couples like to incorporate it.

Apparently, for many, it can be as important as an engagement ring. The truest symbol of devotion and commitment.

"Nice necklace," I say with a suggestive smile.

Her eyes widen before narrowing into slits. "You know what it is?"

"Do I..." I gloat.

She gasps, an excited grin lighting up her face. "Are you also..."

"Well, in my mind..." I place a hand on my chest in a coy manner. "I am a lot of things." I drop my act. "But no. In reality, I'm just an unloved homeless."

She laughs as if it's a joke. God bless her. "Okay, then how do you know what it is?"

I hesitate. "You won't report me to HR, right?"

She runs to shut the door, then flies back and scoots her chair closer. "Bitch, I've never met a soul from work or anywhere who knows this-Wait. Is that how you met Harry?"

My brows jump off my forehead. "What?"

"Harry-Oh, shit! So that's a no, huh? Awkward... Ehhh. I'm sure it's fine! He'd tell you...I think."

"This is a lovely conversation you're having with yourself."

"Sorry!" She laughs. "I thought that's how you met Harry. He's a dom. I mean, he's gay, so I wasn't thinking he'd give you a collar-Wait, is he gay? Or is he bi? I don't know. I've never asked him. But-he's engaged. I don't think they're in an open relationship. Wait, are they? Anyway, I thought maybe that's how you met each other. At least, that's how I met him. So, wait. Do you go to any clubs?"

Damn, she's talkative. My best friend is reserved, but Andrea is like a bucket of sugar, except eighty percent of that sugar is actually cocaine.

It's nice to be around someone who is so excited to talk to you.

"No, unfortunately," I say. "But maybe in the future, when my life is a little more in order."

"I'm going to one tonight. You should come with us!"

"Us?"

"Me and my girlfriend. Oh, but Harry will be there too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with that-But he's super chill! It's a very nice venue, I love the energy there."

A BDSM club? Oh my...I'm interested.

"It's not a swinger's party, right?" I grimace. The thought of seeing Harry or Andrea naked with their significant others...yikes.

"No, no, no! Not at all. I swear. You just watch professionals do scenes and socialize if you want to. But there's no sex at all. Not even oral."

"Good, I only go to events that involve sex and oral on Mondays."

She smacks my arm with another laugh. "You don't have to come, obviously. I just got so excited. It's nice to finally find someone who is into this lifestyle. Plus, you're so cool! I like working with you. You're doing great."

If she likes me, does that mean she might consider me as a roommate candidate, in case her girlfriend can't afford it?

I'm sold like a hooker at a Viagra convention.

"I'm in."

Is it a little selfish? Oui. Manipulative? Opo. But I'm scared of sleeping in my car. If something goes wrong and I lose this job too, what's next? I'd rather not imagine.

After work, I shower at the gym and change into nighttime clothes (a tight, plain black long-sleeve and low-rise, loose denim with an open waist). It's not like I have a lot of options.

The back of my car is a disaster. No, seriously. With my pillow and blanket, towels and clothes, plus plastic bags that hold my makeup, hair products, tampons, medicine, snacks, water bottles, socks, underwear, shoes...

There's barely enough room to sleep in it.

But it's hard to complain. When I drive to the address Andrea texted me, there are so many homeless people on the streets. With torn, filthy clothes. Blank, but somehow also pained looks on their faces. Like they're trapped between reality and delusion, and neither one is better.

I need to forget tonight.

After an hour of traffic, I park near the mysteriously vague building on a street full of normal bars and restaurants.

You'd never be able to guess from the outside what's going on inside. There are no signs.

Once we go in, we're checked by security. I have to sign a waiver, agreeing that I won't touch anyone or their things without permission. I won't take pictures or videos. I won't interrupt anyone's scene.

They offer three kinds of wristbands, each of which means something different.

Green means I'm open to play in someone's scene if they ask. Orange means maybe. Red means don't even bother.

Andrea and her girlfriend, Monica, choose red. I pick orange, because why not?

Then we step into the magical world...

It is like a nightclub, but not really. It's more like a dark, deep violet museum, with pounding and penetrating and hypnotic music.

Instead of a dance floor, a DJ or a bar, there are podiums with all kinds of erotic furniture. For restraint and suspension, X-crosses, spanking benches, medical chairs, cages.

And the crowd is so diverse. Some look like they might be my age. Others are older, in their late fifties or sixties. Some are dressed normally, just like me. Others are wearing latex, leather, lace, role-play costumes and lingerie.

I'm soaking up every detail. It's so different from what I was expecting.

What shocks me more than anything, is how intimate it all feels.

I expected aggressive doms who showed off their power and treated their subs like crap. But everywhere I turn, the doms are insanely focused on their partners, as if no one else matters, nothing else exists except their subs.

And the more intense the scenes are, the more caring and attentive they are. Almost like they cherish, they are honored to hold that trust.

Wow. Is it really possible to have that kind of a connection with someone? For someone to know you so well, what you need, without you-

"Fancy seeing you here!" Edwin appears with Harry on his side, making me jump. He smirks like a Cheshire Cat.

Oh, thank God, they're dressed normally. I'm not emotionally ready to keep a straight poker face if they decide to walk around in latex bodysuits that cover everything except for a mouth hole.

"So it's jam during the day and butt plugs at night, huh?" I tease as he bends to hug me.

"Oh, nooo. Can you hear it vibrating?" He winks as my mouth falls open. "Just kidding."

"Are you?"

"You'll never know."

"Behave," Harry warns him with a cautious smile, observing my reaction.

Never in a million years did I expect Harry to be in charge in their relationship. Edwin just appears so much more outgoing and outspoken. Never judge a book by the cover, I guess.

"Orange wristband, huh?" Harry points at my hand. "You're playing?"

I shrug. "Keeping my options open."

Andrea and Monica say hi, then rush to watch an intricate shibari scene. They're close, so I can join if I want to. But I want to stick around with Harry and Edwin for a little bit.

"What did he say?" Edwin cranes his neck to read whoever Harry is texting.

"He's being stubborn." Harry types away, his expression unreadable under the subtle blue glow of the screen.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Hayden is having a heart attack."

My eyes pop. "Why?"

"Cause you're here."

"What?" I scowl as Harry smiles. "We're not together."

"Of course, not."

"He's not interested in dating me."

"So I hear."

Edwin snorts as he reads their text conversation.

I cross my arms. "Then why would you tell him?"

"Because he'd kill me, if he found out later." Harry shrugs at Edwin. "I told him to just come, but he refuses."

"Of course, he refused!" I snap. "Like I said, we're not together."

"I know." Harry's amusement tells me that he sees right through my frustration. "But you don't have to date someone to like them."

My voice rises a pitch. "Hayden likes me?"

I mean...I've noticed the awkward, horny elephant in the room when Hayden is there. He makes my breathing change. He makes my cells and nerves and bones tremble from every subtle glance. Every time we touch, I get this feeling.

Every time we kiss, I swear I could flyyyy.

Edwin smacks his lips. "Then tell him to grow a pair! Why is he ordering you to keep an eye on her while he sits his sorry ass on the couch?"

"Exactly." I high-five him. "Who does he think he is, huh?"

Harry suppresses a smile. "It's your first time at a BDSM club, right? He knows that. He also knows that if you wanted him here, you would've said something. He's not going to show up, just because he wants to. It's not that simple."

I frown. "Of course, I didn't invite him. I'm his housekeeper. That would be so weird."

Did he want to be invited? Like, as friends?

"See? It's complicated," Harry says, once again inside my head. "He just got out of a toxic relationship. If he showed up here, that would cross a line. If he did that, knowing you need to work for him, knowing you need the money, then he'd be selfish. And that's not Hayden."

"Damn it." I look away. Leave it to that brooding, 6'5 jerk to turn me on with thoughtfulness and maturity, when he's not even here!

Edwin wiggles his brows. "Even though he knows she's wearing an orange wristband?"

"Oh, speaking of which." Harry grows serious. "If anyone asks you to play, please say no."

"Why?" I ask.

"Any real dom can tell you're new here. It'd be highly irresponsible if they put you in a scene. That's not how it works. You could get hurt. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And it can be severe. Please don't do it. Even if they tell you that it's okay, don't trust them. It's not okay."

"How come Andrea and Monica didn't warn me?"

"They were probably being nice. I'm brutally honest."

I like that. I nod, grateful for his advice. We join Andrea and Monica. But all that is running through my head is what he said about Hayden.

Hazel: I'm in your natural habitat

Hayden: Having fun?

Hazel: Kind of

Hayden: What do you mean?

Hazel: I'll tell you later

Hayden: I'll be waiting

"You guys hungry?" Harry asks us when the night is over. "There's a really nice restaurant across the street, if you want to hang out together."

"Sure. That'd be great..." I say. "Is it just us?"

"No, I think Hayden is on his way."

A/N
Heeey guys. I haven't come across a lot of stories where BDSM clubs are represented as a safe space. So hope you enjoyed this version ❤️