Why do you want to join Club Delco? Because I need a safe space where I can rediscover parts of myself I've put on the shelf for too long. Do you have any experience with b**m? If so, for how long? Yeah. I've explored it with a few partners over the years—probably around five or six altogether. Would you describe yourself as dominant, submissive, or switch? Dominant. What are your interests in b**m? (Check all that apply.) Rope, leather, toys, collaring, edging, impact play, rough s*x, group scenes, exhibition, voyeurism. Anything you haven't tried but are curious about? Definitely. Roleplay, shibari, sensation play... and probably more once I get back into the rhythm. How important are safewords to you? Non-negotiable. They're everything. Would you be open to workshops (solo or group) to learn new techniques? Absolutely. Both. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to fill everything out. I hit "send" on the application and included a quick note to Cedric—just a heads-up that I've got my STI test lined up for the morning. That night, my dreams are a strange blur of leather, strawberry-sweet skin, and the electric buzz of anticipation. The next morning, I woke up to a reply sitting in my inbox. Subject: Welcome to Club Delco! From: Cedric Mark, Membership Coordinator Dear Gabriel, We're excited to welcome you as a new member at Club Delco. Based on your application, we believe your experience and interests will be a great fit for the community. Please let us know a convenient time to visit the club for a short, in-person meeting to finalize your membership and take care of a few forms. It usually takes about 30 minutes—you're welcome to stay and explore afterward. Looking forward to meeting you, Cedric. I can hear my heartbeat when I finish reading. I hadn't expected a reply this fast, especially not after submitting something so personal. But even if it had taken them a month to get back to me, I'd still be sitting here, fingers twitching, waiting for the chance. I quickly check the club's operating hours, then type out a reply, my hands not quite steady. Hi Cedric, Thanks so much. I can be there this Saturday at 8 p.m.—does that work for you? Gabriel Rollins The response comes back barely fifteen minutes later. Confirmed. I sit back and stare at the screen, a slow grin tugging at my lips. I'm in. ** By the time Saturday night finally rolls around, I'm practically buzzing. I got my test results back from the doctor this morning—clean across the board, thank God—which means I'm officially good to stay at Club Delco tonight once my membership is finalized. I don't even know exactly what that entails yet, but I'm hoping I can meet someone at the bar, hit it off, and maybe spend the night together. Just the idea of connecting with someone who's into the same kind of stuff I am has me half hard already. Honestly, ever since I got Cedric Mark's email two days ago, I've been a mess. I've jerked off six times—six—and I still feel like I could go for another round the second I think about it. No shame in being excited, right? I take a deep breath and try to chill out. A long, hot shower helps a bit. I scrub down, wash my hair, and even run some leave-in conditioner through it so I can style my undercut without it puffing up like it always does in this damn summer humidity. After drying off, I stare at my closet for a few minutes. I don't have a ton of options, but at least I'm no longer stuck with my brother Jay's old hand-me-downs. I've finally got clothes that feel like me. The FAQ on the club's site mentioned business casual to cocktail attire, so I picked something that strikes a balance—dark jeans and a crisp white button-up. Clean, confident, not trying too hard. I pack up everything I might need, double-check that I've got my wallet and ID, then hop in my Civic for the twenty-minute drive across town. When I pull into the lot, I find a spot tucked in the back and make my way to the front entrance. The place looks more or less the same as it did when I visited earlier this week, but now that I'm walking in with a purpose, the whole vibe feels more electric. More real. At the reception desk stands the same blonde woman I'd seen before—at least, I think it's her. She's traded the sleek business outfit for a tight black leather dress, a matching collar wrapped around her neck. The glow from the monitor lights up her face, and I can't help but notice her smoky eye makeup and that deep red lipstick. She looks... intense, but in a different way tonight. I clear my throat. "Hey—excuse me?" She glances up at me with long, fluttery lashes and smiles at me. "Hi there. What can I do for you?" "I've got a meeting with Cedric Mark. Seven o'clock. My membership just got approved. Gabriel Rollins." "Welcome, Gabriel. I'm Camilla—I run things up here. Come on, I'll take you back." She leads me past the bar and down a hallway I vaguely remember—the same one I'd gone down a few days ago during the incident. She doesn't seem to recognize me, which throws me a little. "Sorry," I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity, "didn't we meet earlier this week? When did someone get hurt?" Camilla stops in front of a door labeled Office and gives me a curious once-over. "I think I'd remember a face like yours." I laugh awkwardly. "I was one of the EMTs who came out for that emergency. You let us in." "Oh!" she laughs. "That wasn't me—that was my twin, Cecilia. She runs things behind the scenes." Ah. That explains it. "Sorry about that." "Happens all the time," she says with a wave, then knocks twice on the door before waiting for a voice to call, "Come in." She opens the door and ushers me inside. Seated behind a large white desk is Cecilia—identical to Camilla, but dressed differently, more subdued but just as commanding. "Gabriel Rollins for you," Camilla says before giving me a wink and stepping back out. Cecilia smiles when she sees me. "Oh! You're the EMT who was here earlier this week, right?" I nod. There is no point in correcting her—I'll let the whole paramedic-vs-EMT thing slide. "Please, have a seat. Thanks, Cam." When the door clicks shut behind me, I sit across from her and try to quiet the nervous energy buzzing under my skin. "So," Cecilia says, folding her hands together, "Is that how you found out about us?" Chapter 6. The Fourth Floor at Club Delco622 Words"Yeah," I said. "Not the best first impression," Cecilia admitted, "but I'm glad you still decided to give us a chance." "Honestly, I was more impressed with how you handled it. You'd be surprised how many people either never call, wait too long, or hide important stuf f because they're scared of what might happen." Cecilia nodded seriously. "I can't even imagine. But I promise that won't happen here. Safety is everything at Club Delco. If it ever came down to it, I'd rather the place shut down than someone get hurt because we didn't do enough." "Good to hear," I said, meaning it. From there, the conversation moved into business. Cecilia walked me through everything about the club. Club Delco had four levels, each catering to different kinds of members. The ground floor was basically social: a classy bar, lounge, and dance floor. No nudity, no s*x—meant to keep things discreet for anyone wandering in from the street, even though all members had to check in at the front desk. The second through fourth floors were where the action happened. The second floor was men and masc-identifying members. The third was just for women and femme-identifying folks. And the fourth—where I was headed—was open for everyone. Each level had its bar, smaller lounges, locker and shower rooms, playrooms, and even recovery spaces. What caught my attention, though, was that each floor had an area off the lounge specifically for exhibitionists. I made a mental note to check that out on the fourth. Cecilia didn't miss a detail in her explanation, though I'd already gone through the membership guide online more than once. When she asked what kind of membership I wanted, I told her Silver for the month. Then I handed over my ID, credit card, and test results. A few signatures and a hundred bucks later, I was officially a member of Club Delco. When we wrapped up, Cecilia called over her sister, Camilla, to show me around. "The floor layouts are the same," Camilla said once we were in the hallway. "Any preference on where to start?" "The fourth," I said. She smiled, like she already knew I'd say that, and led me to the elevator. "You picked a good night to join," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "Oh yeah? Why's that?" "Grace Lincoln is here tonight." The name meant something to her, but I just blinked at her. She chuckled softly. "She's... kind of a legend around here. VIP status. Been a regular for years. People line up to watch her scene—hell, even folks who don't usually go for women end up wanting her. She's stunning, confident, and sharp as hell. Knows exactly how to run a scene." "Is she a top?" I asked, trying to play it cool, but genuinely curious. I wasn't here to get dommed—not unless the itch hit. That's not what this was about for me. Camilla laughed. "Oh, no. Power bottom, through and through. I can probably count on one hand the times she's topped—and that's just based on what she's told me." That gave me pause. "You two are friends?" "Something like that. As close as she lets anyone get, I think. We've both been around for a while." I nodded, filing that away. "So if she's here all the time, what's the big deal about tonight?" "She booked the Black Room for the whole night." I must've looked confused again, because she raised an eyebrow like it should be obvious. "The Black Room?" I tried to remember all the themed rooms Cecilia had mentioned earlier, but came up blank. "Unofficially?" Camilla grinned. "It's the gangbang room." "Oh."