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He raises an eyebrow. “That’s strictly confidential.”
I take my phone back. “Sounds hardcore.”
“You’d expect so for sixty grand.”
I can’t stop staring at the offer price. “Do you think I should accept it?”
“That’s your choice, baby, not mine. You know what your thresholds are, and what you’re comfortable with. Even a whisper of your safe word will have you right on out of there, but I’m sure it’s sixty grand for a reason. It’s your call.”
He knows more than he’s letting on, I can see it in his eyes. There’s no doubt Tiff has taken on one of these proposals, but he isn’t going to share the details with me, and I admire him for that.
My mind wanders as I read through the description again. It barely says anything, but it’s clearly going to hurt. I love BDSM, but I haven’t done it for a while. I have a session lined up in a few weeks’ time, but this one is crazy urgent. One session option only. Tomorrow.
“Why such little notice?” I ask Josh, voicing my thoughts.
“They have access to your bookings calendar, and I guess they like to be impromptu. Less chance that you’ll try to research and blab about it.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I say. “It’s in the proposal. Confidential.”
He smiles. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”
“A sensible girl, more like it. Whoever these founders are, I don’t imagine I’d want to piss them off.”
My imagination runs riot. Maybe I’ll be presented to some kind of lodge, where the members have robes on, swinging incense and chanting as they beat me with whips made of thorns. Or maybe they’re a top end business club, laughing and smoking cigars while they paddle my ass to shit. Maybe there are a few of them, spooky and mysterious, or maybe I’ll be on a stage, in front of hundreds of onlookers.
Maybe they’ll be laughing at me, jeering as they degrade me as their slut, or maybe they’ll be ominous, deadly silent as I take whatever I need to take to earn my fee.
Do I really give all that much of a shit? I’ll be hooded, anyway.
This could be my one chance to enter the true, unabashed world of hardcore, with the people pulling the strings behind the scenes. And if I could make it through the six hours without using my safe word, what could come next? Does anyone really know? I didn’t even know these people existed until now.
And sixty grand in the bank? Wow, that’s just crazy to the max.
Josh does an impression of my overthinking lip thing, and I swat him on the arm.
“Stop it, you. I’m giving it serious consideration.”
He ruffles my hair. “I don’t know why.”
“What do you mean?”
His smirk is off the charts. “Your thumb is already hovering over the accept button. You’re kidding yourself by even contemplating it. Tomorrow night, when the car pulls up, you’ll be all set and ready to go.”
“Yeah, and absolutely shitting myself most likely.”
“It won’t matter. You’ll still go.”
“For sixty grand? I’d be crazy not to.”
“It’s not just about the sixty grand, and you know it. You’d do it for a lot less, to test yourself out on the hardcorer scale.”
He’s coming to know me so bloody well. Better than I know myself, it seems, because I get a burst of excitement at the thought. Tiff would have made it through the full six hours. There’s no way she would have used her safe word. Not a chance.
Josh ruffles my hair again, bringing my attention right back to him.
“Promise me one thing though, will you?”
“Of course.”
