Room One Hundred and Thirteen (Club Sin: Seattle Session 2)

Chapter 2

How am I supposed to concentrate on my work when the three owners of our company are only a few feet away in one of the all-glass conference rooms? It's the third time they've been here this week. Luckily, the invitation to Club Sin appeared in my personal email. I was feeling down from the earlier email from Club Sin telling me I wasn't accepted but that they would put me on a waiting list. Maybe I can finally quench the fire burning inside me with one night of debauchery at Club Sin, even if it isn't with the men I want to scene with.

It wouldn't be that bad if we had the usual enclosed conference rooms like normal businesses, but rumor has it that a few years ago, an intern locked herself in a conference room with one of the owners, back when the rooms were fully enclosed. She claimed the owner attacked her and filed a lawsuit against the company, but once the security cameras from the room cleared him of all wrongdoing, the solid wood walls were replaced with glass.

Thanks to that intern, I'm stuck trying to concentrate on my spreadsheet, which I have to complete in two hours while watching the men pull on their suit coats, stretching their rippling muscles against the fabric. How three men could be so sinfully hot is beyond me.

Speaking of sin, I set my pen down and close my diary with a snap. I glance over my left shoulder before sliding my gaze to look over my right shoulder, making sure no one is watching. Then, I click over to my personal email on my work laptop and stare at the invitation to Club Sin.

The invitation is like a dream come true—more like a wet dream come true. Club Sin represents everything I desire when it comes to sex—so many desires that I've listed everything I want to try if I ever received an invitation to Club Sin, which takes up most of the entries in my newest diary.

I've filled out the RSVP section on the invitation, which asks you to list what you're looking for at Club Sin. What fantasies you're looking to recreate? What kinks you're into—or, in my case, what kinks do you want to try for the first time? I've read everything there is to know on every single kind of kink known to man until I finally decided which ones made my nipples harden into tight points and soak my panties beyond repair. I skim over my selected kinks, trying to decide if I've gone a little overboard in my choices.

I can't imagine crossing any of my choices off the list, but it doesn't seem right. If I'm only getting one shot at experiencing Club Sin, I want the full experience. My only no-go issue is kissing on the lips. It may seem strange since I'll be letting them do everything else my body is craving, but kissing is too personal—too intimate—and too close to what I really want and need from a real relationship. I might be living out my fantasies, but I can't cross that line.

I glance at the time on my laptop—only two more hours until the end of the work week. I plan to take a cab to my apartment instead of the bus and a cab to Club Sin tonight. I want to make sure I have plenty of time to get home and get ready for my night at Club Sin. I've already splurged on a new sexy dress with a matching bra and panty set, so why not go all out and use some of my savings on a cab?

The sound of a door closing makes me jump, and I slam my laptop closed, terrified I'll get caught with my Club Sin invitation on my computer screen. I sigh in relief when Carla walks past my desk, Dexter, Wilder, and Jameson strolling behind her like they don't have a care in the world. At least I don't have to worry about the three of them seeing what's on my screen; Carla always makes sure to take the long way around my desk, so there is no chance for any form of small talk with my fantasy men. Today is no different, but instead of the cool, professional looks the three of them usually give me, they each have a slight smile on their face as they pass me.

My heart flutters, reaffirming my decision to wear a blindfold tonight with the men I'll be with at Club Sin. It might make me a bitch, but since I can't have the real thing, at least I can pretend. Their expressions change slightly, each giving me a look different look ranging from playful to lustful to stern. And just like that, my panties are soaked because, in those three expressions, they gave me what I didn't realize I craved—to be dominated in a playful way, a lustful way, and a stern way.

Nine o'clock can't get here soon enough. I might spontaneously combust if I don't get my raging hormones under control, and the only way to do that is to have as much sex as humanly possible in the twelve hours we have allotted for tonight. It's actually more time than normal for Club Sin members, but as was explained in my invitation, I was selected as a VIP guest.

My eyes follow them out of the office, and for some reason, I don't feel the need to lower my gaze to the floor in their presence. It's almost as if I'm subconsciously disobeying them in order to be punished. Having never been spanked before, I can't wait to feel the sting of a hand or whatever they choose to use on my naked skin.

Once they're finally out of my vision, I open my laptop and look at Club Sin's rules. The last thing I want to do is break any rules before I even get started on my sexual journey. A sexual journey that I hope lives up to the hype in my head.