Page 4 of Break Me Not

The rest of it was drowned out as more and more paddles were raised.

I couldn’t believe it. Me. The washed-up divorcée.

I never thought I'd be wanted again. Even when I was with him, feeling desired was unheard of. It didn’t even cross my mind. And once it was over, I was too busy trying to figure out how I was going to raise my daughter and keep a career so we could live the life we deserved.

Now I was being hit in the face with this knowledge.

I am wanted.

Not only that—they want me to use them.

“Higher! Don’t be shy!”

Numbers were rattled off. We were getting close to one million… and then, within a second, we passed it.

“Can we get two million?”

One single paddle raised.

“Sold to number twenty-six for two million dollars!”

I couldn't breathe. The lights had dimmed just enough for me to see whoever had purchased me stand up.

I considered myself a calm and collected woman. I had to be in the face of my clients. None of them could ever see any weakness.

But in that moment, I was about to lose it because the person who stood up was the most handsome woman I'd ever seen.

Short black hair with the ends sticking up, as if she’d just run her hands through it. Piercings—one on her lip, one under her eye embedded into the skin, and multiple through her ears. Her body was covered in tattoos, the most obvious being an eye between her breasts.

The open all-white shirt and pinstripe pants combo was only broken by the bright red pasties she wore on her nipples.

When our eyes met, my head swooned.

She’s going to be the one getting on her knees for me?

I barely had any time to process it because I was already being pulled from the stage to let the next girl on. Someone from the club was rambling in my ear, telling me about safe words, how to get out, and what to expect, but I could barely hear any of it. My mind was far away, already locked in the room, thinking of everything I could do to the woman who bought me.

Then, when I was finally in the room, I allowed myself a small moment to take it all in to stop myself from freaking out.

The room was dark with dim lighting to set the mood. There was a large bed in the middle with a trunk at the end, likely filled with all the toys we could desire.

There were multiple help buttons, large and red, scattered throughout. I cataloged every single one of them. Only one exit. No windows, or if there were any, they were covered by the long black velvet curtains that covered the walls.

The bed was deep blue, the sheets black and silk. On top was a very conveniently placed collar with a long rope attached to it.

Steeling myself, I walked across the room to grab it and sat down on the trunk, my gaze on the door.

I’m going to get fucked. And for the first time, I’m going to be in charge of it.

A simple fantasy, one I never thought could be a reality, was now coming true. During my visits to the club, I had seen more than my fair share of domming. They were some of my favorite events, though I tried not to look too interested. After all, I had a professional image to uphold. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t cataloging everything for my dirty daydreams.

And in just a few moments I was going to live it out for myself.

Maybe I should do business like this with the club more often.

But we would have to wait and see. I had high hopes for the night given how my buyer looked, but their performance… That was something that remained to be seen.

Just as I thought she might not show up, the door opened. She peeked inside, a small all-black mask covering her face, and her eyes immediately fell to me.