Dare to be Naughty (Masters Club 3.50)
At 10:45 that night, her phone finally pinged.
Hey there. Hope you’re doing well. You were AWESOME last night. Sorry took so long to get in touch. Been at the hospital since 7:15 this morning. Non-stop crazy. Look out for a special delivery tomorrow. XXXOOO.
Not exactly a gushing declaration of love, but she wouldn’t have wanted that anyway. Guys who moved too fast in the romance department had always made her nervous. She reread the text, paying more attention to the words. She thumbed back a reply.
You were pretty great yourself. Now, don’t be a TEASE! What delivery?
It was twenty more minutes before he managed to reply.
Good things come to those who wait. ?
She considered following up with more banter, but decided instead to leave it at that.
She read the message one more time, this time savoring the thrill of victory. Whatever else happened or didn’t happen, she was going to the party! She jumped to her feet, as excited as a little kid just told she was going to Disneyland. “Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god,” she chanted as she pranced around the room. “I’m going to the party. I’m going to the party.”
Sunday morning at ten o’clock Dahlia’s intercom buzzed. Hurrying to it, she pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Hi, it’s Matt with Eagle Courier. I have a package for you.”
Dahlia, who had been lounging in her robe at the kitchen table catching up on the news, replied, “I’ll be right down.” She threw on a shirt and jeans, grabbed her keys and hurtled down the stairs—too excited to wait for the painfully slow elevator.
A young man in a brown uniform, AirPods in his ears, looked up as she came out of the stairwell. He held a clipboard in one hand and a large white cardboard envelope in the other. “Dr. Simon?”
“Yes. You have something for me?”
He held out the clipboard, a pen attached. “Sign here.”
Dahlia scrawled her signature and he handed her the envelope.
“Have a nice day,” he said without much conviction, simultaneously tapping his ear bud.
“You too,” she replied, though he probably hadn’t heard her.
Once back in her apartment, she raced to the couch, the envelope in hand. With trembling fingers, she tore open the tag and slid out the single page. It was printed on fine, heavy stock paper, the shiny letters raised.
We are delighted to extend you an invitation to our annual winter holiday party as a guest of Master Hayden. Due to our privacy policies, to learn more about the invitation you will first need to review and sign the legally-binding non-disclosure agreement located at our secure online site. You will find the link, as well as your one-time access code and temporary password, below.
“Master Hayden,” she exclaimed aloud, both thrilled and shocked at the words. An image of Hayden decked out in full leathers, a long, evil-looking whip dangling from his hand, instantly filled Dahlia’s mind.
Holy shit. Had she bitten off way the fuck more than she could chew?
“You wanted this, Dahlia,” she reminded herself.
And she still did, however crazy she might be. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and no way was she going to back out now.
She hurried to the kitchen, both the invitation and its envelope in hand. Pulling her laptop closer, she typed the link in the browser, her breath shallow with excitement.
She scanned the non-disclosure agreement that filled the screen. Reading between the legalese lines, she understood the agreement bound the signatory to complete silence regarding the club’s activities and existence, except with members of the club.
There followed a request to grant the club authorization to conduct a criminal background check. Dahlia raised her brows at this. She understood the need for privacy, but surely this was taking things a bit too far?
On reflection, though, it made a kind of sense. Some of the people drawn to the BDSM scene might be bullies in disguise with a history of violent acts and police involvement. Perhaps the requirement was a way to weed them out before the fact. She shrugged. Whatever the reason, she was clean as a whistle and saw no downside to granting permission. She clicked the box.
Finally, there was a place at the bottom for an electronic signature. She quickly typed in her name.
A moment later, a new screen popped up:
Thank you for executing the non-disclosure agreement. Whether or not you choose to attend our holiday party, the terms of the agreement will remain in effect.
The Masters Club is a private, members-only BDSM venue with locations around the world. Everyone associated with the enterprise is experienced in impact play, bondage and discipline. Our membership is comprised of Doms, pleasure submissives, service submissives and 24/7 staff slaves. The holiday party will involve nudity and intense BDSM activities.
You will be escorted to our location by your host. The play party will be held in our main dungeon, with refreshments available in the auction room. While you are not required to actively participate in the events taking place, you are welcome to do so.