I think this is what’s known as a panic attack.
Reframe, reframe, reframe, I chant to myself, something I saw in the psychology magazines I used to sneak-read at the public library, which my parents had told me were full of the work of the devil.
Oh my god.
This man, Max, thinks I’m his date. He is pleased to see me and grateful Gwen sent me to him.
It’s all unfolding before me, like clouds parting to show blue sky. I know what’s going on here, and I know what I’m going to do. It’s wrong. And yet…
There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Yeah, right.
You know what goes on in there, don’t you?Sam’s words carp at me.
I do know, or at least I sort of know, if my cleaning up here at the club has taught me anything.
“Would you like to start, Izzy? Happy to follow your lead,” he says.
Wow.
I don’t expect him to be so nice. He’s a member of Club Sin, and if there’s one thing I know from my upbringing, it’s that sinners aren’t nice. They are bad, bad people. And I’ve always been warned to stay away from them.
And yet here I am, surrounded. But it’s not like anyone’s holding a gun to my head. I can walk out anytime I want. I can work somewhere else, the downsides of that notwithstanding.
I can even move back home, go back to church, marry a nice boy, and make my mother happy.
But I haven’t. And I won’t.
I am here because I want to be here.
I take a deep breath to calm my shaking. “It’s nice to meet you, Max,” I say in a soft but steady voice, hoping it hides my uncertainty. And trepidation.
I still have no idea why he thinks I’m his date, but I’m going to play along until it blows up in my face. It might be my last day at Club Sin, so I have to make it worth it.
I want to know what happens in these rooms, not in an abstract sense, but really, literally know. Likeexperienceit.
The push and pull of the contradiction I’m facing makes me dizzy. What’s going to happen? I don’t know, but it can’t be worse than my job, cleaning up cum and throwing out used condoms.
Am I about to be a sinner too?
* * *
CHAPTERTHREE
MAX
As always,Club Sin delivers.
Gwen might be a little strange with that Victorian-slash-punk clothing she wears, not to mention the crazy wigs, but she rules Club Sin with an iron fist and never disappoints.
God bless her.
When she suggested sending me a maid for a little play-acting, I jumped at the chance. I figured she’d get me some little hottie with one of those cheesy costumes they sell at Halloween time, with the tight top and flouncy skirt barely covering the ass. The kind where the maid wears a cute little hat and carries a feather duster like she’s actually going to clean something. Stockings and high heels go without saying.
But she’s outdone herself today. I mean, what she’s set up for me might not work for some guys. I figure my colleagues Gray and Rowan, also prominent members of the club, would probably not be down with today’s offering, but I’m always open to something a little different.
Why the hell not?