A Natural Born Submissive Read Free Page A

decided it was time to head back to the club.
    She grinned as she drove down the street, wondering if she should have left a note for her mom.  What on earth would it say—'BDSM'?  She could just hear her mother:  What does BDSM stand for, dear?   And her response: Bondage, discipline, and sadomasochism, Mom .
    It would be a crazy note to leave, but what she was doing was just as crazy.  She reminded herself that this was for work and continued on.
    Her mind strayed to Victor.  He was certainly attractive, and she wondered for a moment what it would be like to be in a relationship with someone like him.  Not that she was ready for another relationship.  Even if she was, a man who worked in a BDSM club probably had kinky women throwing themselves at him all the time.  On the other hand, perhaps that's what she needed—just some no-strings-attached fun.
    The huge house that housed the club was at the end of Montgomery Drive.  As she drove through the gates, she was struck by how imposing the Tudor-style mansion seemed at night.  It was nearly 10 p.m. when she pulled into the parking lot.  She decided to sit in her car for a while and observe the types of people who walked in.
    A couple exited a nearby car and walked towards the house, holding hands.  The woman was voluptuous, the man older.  They looked rather ordinary, not quite what she was expecting.  But what was she expecting?  She continued to watch as two men headed to the door, and then two women.  There were no single women going into the club, or single guys that she could see.  Alice began to get nervous.  She didn't want to be the only single person.  The idea of sticking out like a sore thumb at a place called The Beaten Path suddenly seemed like a bad idea.  A litany of excuses she planned to offer Victor Priest ran through her head as she put the key back in the ignition.
    The sound of a knock on her window caused her to suddenly startle, and she looked up to see Victor staring into the car.  His eyes were stern, and her stomach flipped nervously.
    Get a grip!  He was expecting you! Her inner scold was practically yelling when she finally forced herself to exit the car.
    "Is everything all right, Miss Chappelle?"  His deep voice was edged with concern. 
    "Yes, I—I—I …" What was it about this man that was causing her to develop a stammer like a nervous schoolgirl?  "I was about to make a phone call."  Yeah, yeah, that sounded good, "but it can wait."
    Alice squared her shoulders and looked at Victor.  In the moonlight, he looked even more surreally handsome than he had in the club that afternoon.  He leaned forward and once again kissed her on each cheek.  This time she knew what was coming and accepted the courtly greeting gracefully.
    "Where I come from, this is how we also say hello."
    Alice smiled delightedly.  He had made a joke.  She turned and resolutely started towards the entrance, too shy to look back at Victor.  When she felt a tug, she stopped and turned back, surprised.
    "That's the performers' entrance, Alice," he said. "Please come around to the front."
    Performers' entrance?  The couple and the young people were performers?  No wonder she'd not been greeted when she'd wandered into the club that afternoon; she had come in through the back entrance.  As he led her towards the front of the building, she looked back over her shoulder.  Now an extremely tall, extremely slender young black gentleman was walking towards the performers entrance.  Were her eyes playing tricks on her or was he wearing high heels?  Before she could look back, Victor had guided her around the corner and into the front of the establishment.
    The inside of The Beaten Path was reminiscent of an English gentleman's club.  The ceilings were high, and the walls were dark green, with mahogany wainscoting. Heavy red velvet drapes adorned the leaded windows.  Victor led her to a small table, where he graciously pulled out a chair so she