Safeword (The Decadence Club Book 3) Read online

  Safeword

  The Decadence Club – Book 3

  By Alyssa Clark

  Published by Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by

  Alyssa Clark & Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

  All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  “We are doing this.” My favorite coworker, Liz, came into my cubical before I managed to get an adequate amount of coffee in. I’d just sat down, and I was still on autopilot; that bit where you’re not sure how you got there but you did, and you’re alive so the how doesn’t really matter.

  “Doing what?” I blinked at her blurrily, hoping she would remember that I wasn’t the morning person she was. Hopefully, she’d be kind and give me a well-defined plan as to what she wanted me to be involved in. Maybe she’d see that I hadn’t had coffee, yet, before she asked me any hard questions.

  Liz leaned forward and pulled her phone from her back pocket. She was slender and beautiful with a wealth of black hair that tumbled over her shoulder to mock me and the curly red mop some called hair. Every aspect that was Liz seemed to mock me, from her shape to her to her impeccable attire. I couldn’t compare, but for some reason, she still managed to smile down on me and call me friend.

  “This.” She put her phone in my face to draw my attention away from my imperfections.

  The letters blended together, and I leaned back so that I could see what she was trying to shove into my corneas. It was a thread on 4chan, a message board that often held questionable content. Of all the places to search, she’d end up on the butthole of the internet? Granted, it probably wasn’t 4chan’s fault that all the creeps conjugated there. “Am I gonna need an STD test after reading this?”

  Liz snorted a laugh and gave me a grin that I don’t readily get, “You’re snarky without your coffee. But, yes, you're gonna need an STD test, just not from reading this.”

  Intrigued, and a little confused, I took her phone and started at the beginning of the thread. It started out about fetishes and various despicable things men enjoyed doing to women. My stomach knotted up as the thread devolved into vulgar and detailed posts, things that I could only describe as scary. She wanted to get into this? I looked up to my friend. She wanted me to do it, too? “I don’t want to do this.”

  “What?” She looked surprised then took her phone back to see where I was reading, maybe it was the fact that I didn’t readily agree to it. “Oh, baby, you weren’t supposed to read that part.” She bit her lip and scrolled through the thread. When she found what she was looking for and handed the phone back, “Don’t let the fifteen-year-old boys shake you. I wouldn’t try to get you to do anything like that. This is the part I wanted you to see.”

  “More like thirty-year-old men living in their mama’s basement,” I huffed under my breath and took her phone back. Because I knew better than to think that it was just adolescent boys cooking that crap up. It seemed like the conversation had drifted from depravity to where to relieve it at. There was mention of websites outside of 4chan, Fetlife, and other forums that didn’t look familiar. Then a club was mentioned, and that’s where I derailed again.

  It was almost like an advertisement.

  “We’re doing this,” Liz said again, though there was a bit of trepidation in her tone. I could feel her eyes on my face, and I knew she could see just how I felt. I knew she knew I knew where she was trying to lead me. “Right?”

  “Can I just be moral support? I really don’t want to explore my non-existent interest in sexual fetishes and fantasies.” I tried my best not to whine at her, but the lack of coffee was wearing on me. I couldn’t fathom why she would come to me with this. This was so beyond me that I wouldn’t have even gone to 4chan to look at a tutorial. If they had that on there, honestly, I wouldn’t know. “No one will want me. I don’t think my ego can face this kind of rejection.” She knew me well enough to know that I had my limits on what I was willing to do. Asking me this was well beyond it.

  “Shut up.” She didn’t snap at me, but her tone was serious like she thought she could convince me of something we both knew wasn’t true. “You’re beautiful.” She took her phone from me and slid off my desk, she came to kneel at my feet, and her big brown eyes drug me in. “Please, Charlie. I’m begging you to do this with me.”

  “Liz…” I started to shake my head slowly. Why would she put me on the spot like this? “This isn’t me.”

  “It’s not,” she agreed and stood. I could see the resignation on her face I relaxed a little, thinking she was going to let it go. I shouldn’t have. “But when was the last time you cut loose? When was the last time you had real fun?” From the look on her face, I could see she was about to make a low blow, I tried to ready myself for it. I tried to harden my heart. “When was the last time you had sex?” I hadn’t been ready for it.

  “Ow.” I leaned away from her. It hurt. That was something I hadn’t shared with just anyone, I never expected her to throw it back at me. “You’re not my favorite anymore,” I muttered to her weakly.

  “You can be moral support, that’s fine. But for you to get in the club, you have to go through all the same things I do.” She made it sound like she was giving in. Like I was putting her out by not wanting to do this with her. “There’s no way around it.”

  And this is where I turned into a doormat because that’s what I was. I slouched in my chair and looked away from her. I was going to give in despite the fact that I found the entire thread unnerving and I wasn’t comfortable with going somewhere that equated to being a sex club. “What do we have to do to get into the club?”

  I’m so pathetic.

  Liz immediately brightened up at my question. “There are membership and registration fees.”

  “How much?” I deadpanned, I was going to need to put a shot of something into my coffee to make it through the day now.

  “The membership is five hundred a month,” she said like she wasn’t belting out massive amounts of money. She seemed to be too excited to think past the fact that she was twisting my arm. “Plus a three hundred for the registration fee. There’s an application fee of three hundred on top of that. Plus we have to fit the bill of getting tested to make sure neither of us has VD.”

  “I don’t have eleven hundred dollars,” I told her seriously. I was blown away by the fact that she didn’t seem fazed by the fact
that it cost so much damn money. I was tempted to ask about the need to get tested, she knew my sexual history. She knew I hadn’t been with a man in years.

  “I’ve got it covered for both of us.” Her expression was hard to read, but it was obvious that the research from this had become an obsession. “The only thing I can’t do for you is getting the medical statement saying you’re clean.” Well, I guess there was no skipping that.

  It seemed like a lot, and I looked away from her. Nerves bundled up my stomach in a hard knot and I didn’t know how to respond to her willingness to shell out twenty-two hundred dollars for this. She worked for the same cheap website that I did. Where’d she get the money for something like this?

  “I’ll let you use this as an opportunity to write it up as an article,” she said. I assumed she could see the indecision on my face, or maybe the surprise. “It could be what finally gets Simon's attention, he’d get you writing full time like you want.”

  “I don’t even know how I would write about something like this.” I looked back at her, letting go of the fact that I was going into a genre that I knew nothing about. “None of this is me.”

  “To get where you want to be,” she stood up as she spoke, “you’re going to have to get out of your comfort zone. Question is, do you want to be a writer bad enough or are you fine with being stuck proofreading the articles I write?”

  Damn. That did it. I didn’t like it, but Liz knew what I wanted. She was my friend, at least I thought she was. A good friend wouldn’t make me do something like this. She sure was good at delivering low blows today.

  “I’ll do it,” I said after a length. Because that’s what I did, I gave in. I crumbled under the force of what others wanted.

  I never got what I wanted, I wasn’t about to hold my breath that I was going to get lucky enough to find an article to write out of this. But, there was no way I could backtrack.

  1

  I decided to play it cool around Liz, I had to do something to save the little bit of self-esteem I had left. After her talk that led me to agree to become a member of a sex club, I was hurting a little bit. But because I’m so miserable, I couldn’t completely cut her out. Who would I have to talk to if I did?

  I didn’t have many friends. So, even when one did me wrong, I was forced to look at it in a way where I had to question whether or not she was right.

  Liz was … kind of right. Even if she was being cruel about it.

  If I was smart about this, I could’ve taken the opportunity to do the research and make an outline to give to Simon that would have gotten me out of editing. Editing was a monotonous job that I did because I had a degree in English and I didn’t have an impressive portfolio to show what my writing skills were really like. He was also unimpressed with my blog. He was a hard man to please that didn’t enjoy reading the tripe produced by an introvert.

  My only problem was I doubted I’d get much out of this club membership. Liz was gorgeous. She was exotic and perfectly trim so much so that any man that overlooked her was probably blind. Or dumb. I didn’t even get looks while I was standing next to her, but I was used to being ignored.

  It wasn’t something that bothered me, being ignored. It was just that she paid for me to be overlooked. She paid money for me to be rejected.

  My heart twisted in my chest, and I tried not to let it get to me. I needed to work, I had deadlines just like Liz did. I needed to focus on the words that bled together in front of me and not the side-eyed disgusted looks that wingmen were going to give me. Because the wingman always winced in pain when they saw the dumpy awkward friend that was supposed to act as a cock blocker. That was me, and I knew it.

  “You don’t have to look like I’m asking for your kidney.” A coffee cup was set on my desk, and I glanced up to see the object of my souring mood come into my cubicle. She sat in the spare chair that I usually put my backpack in. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” Liz said meekly. She knew how I felt, the fact that I didn’t make my usual visits to her desk or send her any funny memes made things obvious enough that I was still upset.

  I was doubtful, especially after the way she strong-armed me into agreeing to this. Honestly, I’d probably be more willing to give her a kidney instead of going to this club. “I’m not so dumb, or desperate for human interaction, that I’d give you a kidney.”

  “I guess everyone has their limits,” she sighed. “I’ve gotten to that limit with you, huh?”

  “You’ve pressured me into doing something that is totally out of character for who I am as a person.” I looked away from my monitor to give her a hard glare. “You’re putting me in a position where I’m going to be faced with rejection that came at a higher price than my ego. Which is battered enough as it is just going to normal clubs with you.” My voice quaked a little, and I had to fight to not completely crack in front of her. I’d cried in front of Liz before, but I didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of her right now. Not with her being the reason behind my tears. “You asked too much.”

  Of course, it was all too late to make this complaint. She’d already filed the application and we’d both gone through the embarrassing, but necessary, physical to assure the club that we were free of anything that could be transmitted sexually.

  Our membership would become active starting Thursday at seven pm.

  I’m pretty sure the reason behind her visit was to coerce me actually going to the club with her. If it wasn’t going to happen now, it was coming. There was no way around it, that was one thing I could be sure of when it came to Liz.

  “What can I do to make it up to you?” She looked like she felt bad, I wanted to believe she did. But if she was still going to make me go with her, then the likelihood she really felt bad was slim.

  “Don’t make me go with you.” I knew it was futile to ask, but maybe she’d figure out just how uncomfortable I was about all of this.

  “C’mon, Charlie,” she whined at me. “Just this once, I’m begging you.”

  “No one is going to want me,” I shot back at her. “This is a massive waste of money.”

  “Look.” She took a deep breath, and I knew she was about to hit me hard. “It’s not like that, that’s not how it works at all.”

  “What are you talking about?” That confused me, so I pushed pause on all my insecurities.

  “This club isn’t what you seem to think it is.” She lowered her voice. ”It’s not about getting picked up, but ultimately that’s my goal with all of this.” She cut a hand through her hair and gave me a look before finding something on the wall of my cubicle more interesting. “This club specializes in fetishes. I doubt if you look willing anyone would really turn you away. Plus,” she shrugged helplessly at me, “from what I understand, its split into rooms. You go in one, and you get an experience.” She looked back at me, and there was something in her eyes that I didn’t understand, this was a side of her I didn’t know. “There’s zero chance of rejection.”

  My mouth went dry, and I found my computer screen all the more interesting. I didn’t know what to say to that. I guess it was something that should have made me feel better, it should have put some of my nerves to rest. That was one fear I didn’t really have to concern myself with now, but I still couldn’t shake what she was having me do.

  “If you’re really scared, just treat it like the normal clubs I take you to.” She sounded sullen. “After this first time, I promise not to make you do this again.”

  “When are you wanting to go?” Because despite my feelings, I would still go with her. I wouldn’t let her go alone. Especially not to a place like this, there was no telling what could go wrong.

  I figured I could do the same thing I did at the regular clubs she drug me to. I could hang out at the bar and wish I was at home.

  That wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

  2

  Liz was kind enough to wait until Friday night instead of rushing me in on a Thursday night when we both had to be at work the next day. I w
ould have been grateful if she also didn’t insist on giving me a ‘mini’ makeover.

  At least she managed to tame my curls so that they were more than just a wild mess. I almost didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I almost looked cute.

  It wasn’t enough to give me any sort of confidence going into the club, even after hearing how the place ran. I wouldn’t have to deal with flat-out rejection, a plus, but I doubted I’d work up the nerve to go into any of the rooms.

  So, I stayed at the bar, watching as Liz drifted down the darkened hallway with a confidence that I knew I would never be able to muster. Even when I was dressed in what she called my ‘club best’. Even with my hair and makeup on point. Even with her assurance that I looked gorgeous.

  I just didn’t feel it.

  “Pretty lady.” The bartender came to stand in front of me, giving me a friendly smile. “Why are you over here all by your lonesome?” He hummed as he made a point to wipe down the bar, giving the illusion that he was working. He was slender, in the same fashion that Liz was, and he had a little bit of eyeliner on that only seemed to bring emphasis to his big brown eyes. It was enough to catch my attention and make me instantly jealous.