Page 34 of Bared

“Yes.”

“This says you are also…a founding member?”

One side of Brickham’s mouth hitched up. “You could say that.”

If they had more time, Jayd would be openly gawking at the man’s respectful head dip. “Well then, it would be mon plaisir to waive your door fee, monsieur.”

“Merci.” Max’s murmur, in a flawless accent, was edged with impatience.

“Additionally, I am fully at your service, Master. Whatever you need for your play with us this evening…”

“Right, right.” More restlessness from Brickham.

Master? What was that about? What, by the Creator and the saints, was going on here? How had Brickham turned this man from adversary to ally with a medallion and a few magic words? He was from a place called Bastille? A place named after a prison?

But the man catered to Brickham like he was royalty. She should know. But perhaps her qualifications mattered not now, considering she had no title or even pants to call her own. At this moment, she was merely the woman on the king’s arm, not the center of attention herself. It was a surprisingly—perhaps shockingly—pleasant feeling.

All those ruminations did not block her from listening in on Brick’s swift conversation with the dungeon master. As their host quickly rushed Brickham and her through two layers of the thick velvet curtains, she caught several parts of their conversation.

“…no need for a full station…”

“…any floggers, bindings, accessories?”

“…privacy and discretion…”

“…then an aftercare alcove?”

“By the Creator,” Jayd whispered. She went unheard, thanks to her bowed head and the fact that they entered the area where the music was the loudest. Likely had something to do with the climbing din of her heartbeat too—which became a crescendo as so many of those words raced through her mind. Floggers? Bindings? What was a full station? Or an aftercare alcove?

Looking up brought her no clear answers.

Just hundreds more questions.

Ohhh…heavens.

They were truly not on earth anymore.

But they were not in the heavens she had just invoked either. But in the same token, it was certainly not hell.

She was at a complete loss for describing this place. It had to be some shameless debauchery den brought back to life from history. Or perhaps, had never died. Babylon? Zerzura? Sodom? Gomorrah? All of the above?

She had no point of reference except the truth of what her stare took in.

First, she realized how bizarrely overdressed she was. Most of the women, and a great deal of the men, were clad in skimpier attire—if they were clothed at all. But they were all comfortable with their exposure. She identified that in their eager and happy faces.

What she still had trouble identifying…was the rest of the scene.

Some people were bent over low stools. Some were tied to the wall or handcuffed to large devices. One of those was shaped like a tall X. Another was more like a mounted leather couch cushion, except for the rings up and down its sides. Other people were not using the equipment. They were in smaller, carpeted areas that overlooked the main floor. In many of them, there were just couches, chairs, and ceilings with groupings of large hooks. All the spaces were occupied by couples who were doing…things…to each other.

Things from which Jayd could not rip her stare.

Some of the men and women were deftly spanking or flogging their partners. Some of them were engaged in more carnal activities. Much more carnal.

She still could not look away.

It was all so frightening.

But it all seemed so…right.