Room 24: Theirs to Humiliate, Theirs to Pleasure

“I’m completely in your hands. I don’t know the first thing about any of this. I just want to look good for them. The way they want me to.”

My heart sinks when her crimson lips screw up in a disapproving sort of way. “Let’s get that misapprehension out of your head right now. You’re not doing this to look good for them.”

“I’m not? I mean, that’s the reason I’m here. And I sure couldn’t pay for this on my own.”

Still, she shakes her head. “What matters is whether or not you feel good wearing these things. Whether you feel confident and comfortable in your skin. If you don’t, then it’s absolutely off the table. We can always find something better suited to you. Believe me, nothing is less sexy than a woman dressed in even the most expensive, gorgeous outfit when she clearly hates it.”

“That makes sense.” And it relaxes me further, too. No pressure.

“Good.” She lifts her arm, holding the items up for my inspection. “Are you ready to start trying things on?”

“Why not?” I follow her to a curtained-off dressing room, where she arranges the items on hooks and across a long counter.

“I can lace you into the corset if you want. When you’re alone, you can use the front closures to put it on and remove it.” She shows me how they work, and it makes a heck of a lot of sense. Here I was, thinking I would have to tighten the laces on my own. I’ve seen enough historical movies to know it usually requires another person.

It takes a minute for me to figure out the leg harness thingies, a series of straps that run around my thighs attached to a single strap running down the outside of my thigh and ending at my knee. I tighten them one by one and sort of like the way they look, especially when paired with fishnet stockings and a pair of knee-high boots that fit like a glove.

Next, I pull on a pair of crotchless leather panties over my thong to avoid being gross in case I don’t end up buying them. On top of that goes a leather skirt that barely covers my ass. And even that is more expensive than I would ever consider if I was the one paying for all of this.

Finally, I take off my sweater and bra and slide my arms through the straps of the corset before closing it up in the front. It still hangs wide open in the back, so I poke my head out from the curtain to find Cassandra perched on a leather sofa, waiting for me. “I think it’s time.”

“You’re looking fabulous so far,” she observes with an approving grin before I turn around so she can lace me up. It’s not as uncomfortable as I imagined, probably because this is not an actual corset somebody would wear outside of the kind of activities I know are going to be happening. It’s a little snug by the time she’s finished tightening it, but I’m not fighting for air.

“All right. Check yourself out.” She turns me forty-five degrees so I can see myself in the mirror—and I barely recognize myself. I mean, it’s me. My eyes, nose, hair.

But it’s not me. The girl staring back at me from the mirror is a badass. Strong, powerful, sexy. “Wow,” I whisper, staring at myself. Especially at my boobs, which look fantastic in this thing. That alone might make it worth the price tag.

“See? That’s what I mean. You have to feel good about yourself in clothes like these. Otherwise, it’s nothing but a costume. You could just as easily play the dominant or the submissive in these clothes. It would be entirely up to you.”

“I think I’m the submissive,” I whisper.

“Nothing wrong with that. You can’t have one without the other, right?” She winks from behind me before adjusting the strings at the back of the corset. “Honestly, you’re stunning. But your visit is not over yet.”

“How come?”

“I’m going to look through a few more things. Why don’t you take that off, and I’ll be right back.”

I don’t even want to. I like the way I look wearing this. I like the way I feel in it. It’s amazing how a single outfit can have this effect on me.

I try on a few more things—a tight leather dress that’s barely longer than the skirt and a pair of vinyl pants that aren’t as uncomfortable as I imagined they would be. But I don’t like any of it as much as I like that first ensemble, and I tell her so.

“I thought you’d feel that way, but it’s always good to have an idea of what else is out there. There are plenty of other items for you to explore if you want.”

“I only have so much money right now,” I explain.

“Of course. I’m sure once they see you looking so fantastic, they’ll make sure you come back for more.” She winks, and we exchange a secret little smile. I like her a lot, much more than I could have imagined. She’s not intimidating at all. More like a wise friend, just like Thatcher.

Oh my god, Thatcher would lose her shit if she knew I was here. I can’t think about that right now.

I also don’t have the heart to tell Cassandra that I’ll be putting Chicago behind me as soon as possible. This is the first and last time we’ll be seeing each other.

By the time I’m dressed, she’s at the register, and along with the folded-up clothes and the box containing the boots are a couple of books and a few smaller boxes. “These are a gift for some of my best customers,” she confides. “Take them with you the next time you meet with them. They’ll know what to do.” I should be worried, shouldn’t I? What the heck could she be giving me? I can always check it out later—and I’m sure if it’s anything too outrageous, they won’t force me into using them. At least, that’s what I hope as I leave the store.

“I really do hope I get a chance to come back,” I tell Cassandra before stepping into the entry. I mean it with all my heart, too, at least to thank her for being so kind before I leave for good. Maybe one day, I’ll have the money to visit an upscale store like this and learn more about this lifestyle.

Which raises a good question. Just how do the guys have enough money to afford this? They’re hardly much older than me. Maybe they come from rich families, even though they all seem a little rough around the edges with their tattoos and whatnot.

Then again, you can’t judge a book by its cover. For starters, I would never imagine a store like this exists in what looks like an abandoned building. And I doubt anybody who sees me walking down the street in my puffy coat with my chin tucked close to my chest while carrying a nondescript paper bag would have any idea what I’m actually taking back to my car. Not an average little nobody like me.