Battleship (Anchored Book 2) Read online

  “Whipped?” I sip my drink again. “Are you two…will you guys?” Shit. How do I ask my friend if I can expect to see her being beaten tonight?

  “Christina and I both prefer lighter play,” Zack says quickly. “She likes to be tied up and I like to spank her, but we usually keep our play pretty tame compared to some people.”

  “And will you…tonight?”

  Christina shrugs. “Honestly, tonight we’re there to show you around. If the mood strikes us and you’re comfortable and having fun, we might play around, but tonight we’re just planning on hanging out with you.”

  “And you don’t normally drink at the club?” I’m trying to take everything in, but there’s a lot of information.

  “Because BDSM requires you to have a clear head, it’s not a good idea to drink and play. Members can’t drink on nights they’re playing. If they want a drink after, that’s fine, but they have to wear a bracelet that indicates they can’t play anymore,” Zack seems calm, collected. He seems like he’s discussing the news and not the details of a sex club.

  “Okay,” I tell them. My drink is gone and I hand Zack my glass, but he doesn’t refill it. He sets it to the side of the sink.

  “If you have any questions, we’re happy to help you.” And suddenly, I know exactly what Christina sees in him, and it’s more than just the pretty face and fucking muscles. He genuinely seems kind and caring, and that’s kind of wonderful.

  “And if you decide you hate it, we can totally leave early. No hard feelings. And if you love it, we can get you an interview to become a member, okay?”

  “Wow, I didn’t realize sex clubs were so serious. I thought you just kind of showed up, had your fun, and left.”

  “Some clubs are like that,” Christina says. “But Anchored is different. Membership is taken very seriously. Everyone has to have health checks and psychological assessments before they’re allowed to touch people.”

  “To play,” I say, remembering the term.

  “That’s right,” Zack says. “She’s a quick learner,” he tells Christina. “I like her.”

  “Me too,” Christina squeezes my hand and sets her glass down. “But enough talking. What do you say we get you dolled up? It’s going to be a fun night.”

  Zack settles on the couch with a book while Christina and I head upstairs. She explains the differences between Dommes and submissives and tells me that I might be one or the other or both or neither, and that’s all fine. Then we look through her closet.

  “So usually, I get dressed at the club,” she says. “Since it’s the middle of fucking winter, that’s what we’re going to do. Otherwise, we’ll freeze our asses off in the parking lot. We’ll pick out an outfit here, do our hair and makeup, and then get dressed at the club, okay?”

  The idea of being in a locker room with a bunch of other women doesn’t freak me out. Should it? It probably should. It doesn’t, though. I was never big into sports when I was in high school, but I was never embarrassed to change in the locker room. I was always a little curvier than the other girls, but it never bothered me, for some reason.

  So I’ve got that going for me.

  “Here we go,” Christina opens up her closet and I start laughing. “What?” She asks innocently.

  “One side of the closet is ‘mom clothing’ and the other is ‘dirty girl’ clothing. It’s just a huge contrast.” On the left side are shirts, dresses, and pants, along with what I would consider to be normal shoes and boots and sandals. The right side of the closet is mostly black and lace: corsets, thongs, shorts, and mini-skirts. There are a pile of stilettos on the floor and there are even a couple of costumes.

  “Come on now,” she says. “Variety is the spice of life.”

  “Is that a naughty schoolgirl uniform?”

  “You want to try it on?”

  “No,” I blush.

  “You should,” she grabs the outfit from a hanger and hands it to me. Somehow, it ends up in my hands, and I look at it.

  “I don’t want to,” I say, but even as I speak, I realize how lame I sound. Isn’t tonight all about getting out of my comfort zone? I’m in a rut. I’m in a boring, tired, sick-of-my-life rut and I’m ready to get out of it.

  It’s time to stop being lame.

  It’s time to be bold.

  “You know what?” I pull my shirt off and toss it on the bed. “I will try it on.” Christina giggles and claps her hands and jumps up and down as I finish stripping down to my bra and panties and then pull the outfit on.

  Only, as I look in the mirror, I realize there’s a huge problem.

  “My panties are showing.”

  “Your panties are showing,” she repeats, but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable or nervous or weird about it. “What do you think you should do, Lily?”

  And therein lies the question.

  What do I think I should do?

  The question isn’t what I think the world wants me to do or what I think my mom wants me to do or what I think my friends want me to do.

  The question is what I think I, personally, should do.

  “Take off my panties?” I ask.

  “That’s one option,” Christina says.

  It’s no different than a locker room, I tell myself, and wiggle out of my plain black panties. I drop them on the floor and then turn around.

  “There you go,” she says. “You look sexy as hell.”

  I peek at myself in the mirror and I blush when I realize I can see my ass cheeks. That’s how short the skirt is. Still, I kind of look, well, sexy.

  And I kind of feel sexy.

  And I kind of love that.

  “Okay,” I say, turning back to my friend. “What else do you have that I can try on?”

  Christina just laughs and waves at her closet.

  “Have at it, love. We’ve got an hour to get you something perfect.”

  Chapter 3

  Lily

  Anchored is a sex club and I’m in the center of it. I’ve got a bright pink wristband on my left wrist that indicates I’m not a full member and that I’m not playing tonight. It means I can drink, but I’m not allowed to have sex or get on any of the stages.

  Somehow, though, I’m not thinking about the fact that I obviously stick out like a sore thumb.

  I’m thinking about the fact that I’ve never seen so many good-looking people in my life.

  It’s not even that the people at Anchored are conventionally good-looking. There are quite a few people who are overweight, underweight, and everywhere in-between. Some of the people are physically beautiful, but what really shines is the fact that everyone here is having fun.

  There aren’t any pouters in the corner.

  Even the people who are overweight have an air of confidence and it’s the most incredibly appealing thing I’ve ever seen.

  I’ve never been particularly thin, but I’ve shied away from wearing clothing as tiny as what I’m wearing tonight. There are many other women here who are the same size or even bigger than me and most of them are wearing far less.

  “You doing okay, love?” Christina reaches for my hand. In the end, we decided to both wear our hair curled and down. She opted for a black lace bra and fishnet shirt with a black miniskirt and no panties. I’m wearing a dark red corset that makes my breasts look much bigger and much perkier than they actually are, along with a pair of boy shorts.

  “I’m okay,” I tell her. “I just keep looking at everyone.”

  “Some of the clothes tonight are pretty fucking sexy,” Christina agrees.

  “Anyone strike your fancy?” Zack asks. He’s got his hand around Christina’s waist, but he’s stayed close to me all night. I like it. Zack is Christina’s Dom, but tonight, he’s mine, too. If anyone wants to talk to me, they have to clear it with Zack. He explained the entire thing in the car.

  Basically, in the BDSM world, things are different.

  I’m not just a “free range sub,” as he put it. Tonight, I’m his guest, so I need t
o stay with him.

  I argued that I’m not actually a submissive, and Zack said that was fine, but he still expected me to show him respect and obedience while we’re at Anchored.

  Weirdly, it wasn’t as difficult to agree to as I thought it would be.

  Maybe the clothing really is changing my mindset.

  Maybe it’s just the entire atmosphere.

  “Everyone,” I whisper, and Zack chuckles.

  “How about we go watch a scene?” He says. We’ve walked through most of the club. They gave me a lovely tour and I got to meet a couple of their friends. We haven’t sat and watched a full scene, though, and one is about to start on a nearby stage.

  “Okay,” I agree quietly, and I follow Zack and Christina. Zack finds a chair for himself and motions for me and Christina to sit on the armrests of the chair. “We don’t have to sit on the floor?” I ask quietly. I’ve noticed a couple of people sitting with their submissives at their feet.

  “Not tonight,” Zack says. “I want you close to me in case you have any questions. More importantly, I want you to be able to see clearly. If I was going to have you blow me, I’d have you at my feet. That’s not why you’re here, though. You’re here to learn, so pay attention.”

  His words are blunt, but not callous, and I think I’m starting to get used to the way Zack talks because I’m not scared or nervous when he speaks. I just nod and turn, making sure my eyes stay on the stage.

  A woman appears. She’s tall and her hair hangs past her shoulders in braids and beads.

  “Is that-” I start to whisper when I recognize her, but Zack quiets me.

  “A lot of people come to this club,” he says. “And discretion is key.”

  “Of course.”

  I turn as I watch Destiny – a woman I work with – lead a young woman to the center of the stage. I can instantly tell that Destiny is a Domme. She’s wearing a corset, like me, but she also has on leather pants and high-heeled boots that click loudly as she makes her way across the stage.

  The woman doesn’t look afraid of Destiny, even as she’s tied up.

  “That’s called a spanking bench,” Zack says easily. “What do you think of it?”

  “I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly. I’ve gotten used to Zack asking me questions. Apparently, this is part of the whole Top thing. The Dom asks the sub questions to gauge how they feel about things. The Dom pushes the sub to his or her limits, and sometimes past them, but is always right there to catch the sub. The Dom is always there. The Dom is always watching out for the best interests of the sub.

  And part of me wonders if this is the element that’s been missing from my relationships.

  Maybe I should have found a Dom years ago.

  My relationships with men have always been tricky. It’s not that all of the guys I’ve dated have been jerks, but they’ve all been selfish in the end. Anytime things got hard, or difficult, or I needed them, they bailed. I think after awhile, I sort of just gave up on men altogether, and while I like women, I’m more bicurious than bisexual.

  I’ve never been with a guy who quizzed me on the things I liked. I’ve never been with a guy who pays close attention to how I’m breathing, moving, looking. I’ve never been with someone who watched my body language in addition to my words.

  And the truth is that when I look at Christina and how she interacts with Zack, I’ve never seen her happier.

  I’ve never seen her more at peace.

  And I crave that.

  I want it for myself.

  I want someone to look at me in that way.

  I want someone to make me feel like they can’t live without me, like I’m the most important thing in the world to them.

  “What’s Des…what’s the Domme going to do?”

  “Mistress D,” Zack says smoothly. “Is going to tie up her submissive. Then, I imagine, she’s going to spank her.”

  “But…why?”

  “How about you watch?” Zack says. “Then we’ll talk about the scene when it’s finished.”

  I turn back to the stage and watched as Destiny – Mistress D – ties her submissive to the spanking bench. The bench is length-wise on the stage, so the audience can see the woman’s face. She looks a little nervous as Mistress D ties her arms behind her back, but she doesn’t move or wiggle or try to get away.

  I know she has a safeword, so she can stop the scene at anytime. If she gets scared or nervous or afraid, she can say the word and Mistress D will immediately end the scene, untie her, and take care of her.

  Still, it’s quite the exercise in trust.

  This woman is allowing herself to be tied up in public. She’s allowing her body and her emotions to be on display for everyone to see. She’s brave, and she’s beautiful.

  The music in the club is so loud I can’t hear what Mistress D is saying. She’s speaking quietly to her sub, touching her, running her hands over her. She’s gently calming the woman and helping her relax.

  Then she pulls the submissive’s panties off and spreads her legs, and the spanking begins.

  Mistress D starts with her hand, but starts to use different elements. Each time she switches to something new, Zack offers me the name of the item and tells me a little bit about it. Soon I feel like an expert in spanking tools: not a beginner who’s never stepped food in a club before.

  By the time Mistress D switches to using a paddle, the submissive is crying with each stroke, but she still doesn’t seem in distress. Her bottom is red and I know that’s got to hurt, but she almost looks peaceful.

  Calm.

  And I realize that she’s focusing only on counting each stroke. She’s focusing on getting through each second of this. She’s focusing only on listening to her mistress and on pleasing her.

  And then the spanking stops.

  That sub must have the clearest head in the history of the world. My own brain feels like it’s constantly going at top speed. Between dealing with my boss and the parents at work, I feel tired and stressed all of the time. It’s so hard for me to find the energy to do anything else. I wonder what it feels like to have the level of relaxation the submissive appears to have.

  I think the scene is over, and I start to get up, but Zack grabs my arm.

  “Sit back down, sweetie,” he says. “They’re not done yet.”

  “But she stopped spanking her,” I whisper.

  “Just watch.”

  Christina looks over and winks at me conspiratorially and I wonder what she knows that I don’t. Then I see Mistress D begin rubbing and kissing the submissive’s bottom, and my insides turn to goo.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  Since when did something like a public spanking turn me on so much?

  The idea of watching someone I know perform in public should be terrifying to me, embarrassing, but it’s not, and I wonder why. I wonder why I’m not humiliated as I watch my coworker get to her knees and begin to lick her submissive’s thighs.

  I wonder why I’m not embarrassed when she moves a little higher.

  The submissive makes a noise, and my entire stomach tightens. The music is loud, but the crowd is transfixed as we watch Mistress D move with grace and precision to bring her submissive to the edge of orgasm.

  The submissive seems to grow more and more tense until she reaches that elusive goal, and she comes. She opens her mouth and cries out. She pulls against her restraints: her body shaking. She groans and wiggles and quivers, and Destiny doesn’t stop until the woman has sagged against the spanking chair.

  “Holy dragons,” I groan, and I realize my boy shorts are completely, totally soaked. Shit. I’m going to have to wash these before I give them back to Christina. I can’t believe how wet I am just from watching that, and I wonder what that says about me as a person.

  “You liked it, didn’t you?” Christina asks, watching me.

  I look over at her and I can’t help but notice that the way she’s sitting means everyone who walks by gets a view of her
pussy. Zack doesn’t seem to mind or care, and maybe that’s part of the fun for them. There are a lot of bodies on display tonight, but everyone is totally respectful about it. No one is being made fun of. No one is being body shamed. No one feels uncomfortable showing off what they’ve got.

  And then I notice that Zack has a huge, hard, must-be-completely-painful boner.

  And I think I blush so red that I look like a ripe summer tomato.

  “She loved it,” Zack says, looking pointedly at my shorts. “Her pussy is soaked, isn’t it, Lily?”

  “I…um…yes.” He can see it. He can see me. I might as well admit the truth. Zack is Christina’s Dom and he’s not going to come onto me or try to sleep with me. He’s my protector tonight, though, and I know tonight is all about seeing what BDSM is about. Maybe he’s trying to show me what a good Dom really is.

  Maybe he’s trying to show me what to expect if I really decide to dip my toes into this entire lifestyle.

  “What did you like about it?” Zack asks, and I realize he’s forcing me to put my feelings into words. He’s making me communicate with both him and Christina.

  “I liked the end. I liked how Mistress D took care of her submissive when it was over. It’s like, it was totally painful, but then there was this incredible reward.”

  “Her submissive trusted her to get to that point,” Christina points out, and I nod.

  “Would you like to go watch another scene?” Zack asks. “There are some voyeur rooms with more scenes going on.”

  Christina looks excited, and part of me wants to go, but I think I need a breather. I need a little break.

  “Actually, I think I want to go get a drink from the bar,” I tell them. “But why don’t you guys go ahead? I’ll be okay on my own for a little while.”

  “Are you sure?” Christina asks. “I know this place can be a little overwhelming your first time.”

  I hold up my wrist, showing off the bracelet. “I think this should stop anyone who tries to give me trouble, don’t you? Seems like people here obey the rules.”