Page 22 of Hushed

But something was still missing from her life. Gage popped into her head every time that thought occurred, but he wasn’t what she was missing, not specifically. He was nothing more than the manifestation of what she wanted. A man who paid attention and tried to give her what she needed and craved. Gage couldn’t be the only man out there capable of giving that to her. Because Gage had made it clear he couldn’t, and she respected that. It didn’t stop her from missing him. They talked on thephone a few times a year, and he checked in via text once a month to make sure she didn’t need anything, but he didn’t visit.

That night she sat at her computer and tried to catch up on projects she’d fallen behind on, but her mind kept wondering what it would be like to go to The Cage. Would she meet someone who could shut her brain up the way Gage did that night? Or would it be full of posers and people she wasn’t interested in?

Something told her she would not be able to focus on anything else until she satisfied her curiosity.

The next day, she called her best friend, Maggie, and asked if she wanted to go out.

“I’ve got a major assignment due on Monday, so I need to have time for that. What did you have in mind?”

She described the place to Maggie who grew quiet.

“I’ve been there before,” she said. There was something in Maggie’s voice that raised questions for Kenzie.

“What did you think?”

“It’s just as naughty as you described. But you have to be careful in a place like that. I wish I could go with you. But I’m free next weekend.”

“I have a gig next weekend, but we’ll pick a date for sure. Good luck on the project.”

After several hours of working on her own projects, she put on a red tank top and a black leather mini skirt with a matching leather jacket. After some deliberation, she decided to skip the bra. Kenzie liked it when the outline of her nipple jewelry was visible through her clothes. She added a thin leather choker with a skull in the center, and some chunky red earrings. Dark lipstick and bold eye makeup gave her enough confidence to be excited about a night out.

Despite shaking a little on the inside, she ordered a car with her phone and twenty minutes later she was headed for TheCage. As they approached, she wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t in the best part of town. But kink clubs were supposed to be known for their safety and security, so she only had to be careful until she got inside, right?

At the club, she was greeted by a bubbly woman in a revealing dress, who introduced herself as Evie, and a giant of a man who seemed to be her Dom. He didn’t offer a name.

“Welcome to The Cage. We need to see an ID and have you sign some paperwork before the fun can begin.”

This part she’d been prepared for. She pulled out her ID, and handed it to Evie, while the man handed her a clipboard.

“Fill these out. Ask questions if you have them.”

Kenzie frowned as she read the forms.

“Is there a reason you need my address?”

Evie giggled and shared a knowing look with her partner. “It’s in case you need to get home but can’t remember where you live.”

“Why… why wouldn’t I be able to remember my address?” Kenzie was suddenly filled with unease.

The woman shrugged. “Have you never had too much at a bar?”

“I thought this was a BDSM club?” Kenzie couldn’t hide her confusion as she looked from Evie to the paperwork.

“It is, silly. We also have a bar, and sometimes people drink too much.” Her response was so casual, that Kenzie wondered if she’d had the wrong idea about BDSM clubs this whole time. She made a note to ask Gage about it the next time he called to check in. It didn’t seem safe to let people get so drunk they couldn’t remember where they lived if you also allowed kinky play. She’d done enough research to know that BDSM could be dangerous if you didn’t know what you were doing.

She had no intention of drinking anything tonight, but she begrudgingly filled out the contact information and signed the liability waivers.

Evie returned her ID and smiled. “You’re all set. Enjoy yourself.”

Kenzie gave her a tight smile. “Thanks.”

She made her way into the club and looked around. At first glance, it looked like a dozen other dirty New York City bars. As she walked, her shoes stuck to the grimy floor, and the scent of stale beer and spilled cocktails added to the discomfort. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows on the faces of patrons gathered around the bar. Music played over the speakers, but it wasn’t exactly giving off a sexy vibe. A large group of people gathered around a bar that dominated the center of the room. Aside from a few wearing leather, she wasn’t getting BDSM vibes from the group.

At one end of the bar, three bowls held rubber wristbands like the ones she often got at clubs when she DJ’d. Curious, she made her way through the noisy crowd to the bowls and read the sign. Each wristband was a different color, and according to the display, they helped identify what club-goers were looking for. Blue was for people who wanted to bottom or submit. Purple was for people who wanted to top or Dom. And the red wristbands signaled the wearer wasn’t looking to play.

Since it was her first night, she pulled a red wristband out of the bowl and slipped it on her wrist.

“I don’t recall seeing you here before,” A man behind her shouted above the thumping music.

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