The Request (pt. 2)

"Hi, I'm Katarina but you can call me Kat! That's what my friends call me," I placed my arm over the center console and stuck my hand out for the big goon in the passenger seat to shake. I'd already introduced myself to the two other goons sitting beside me in the back seat, and I was determined to make friends with everyone except Marco.

"Ignore her," Marco sighed from the drivers seat. Before leaving the house, he insisted I be blindfolded so as to not be able to see the path we were taking. Not like I would have the balls to escape while all of them were conscious anyway. "And you don't have friends, don't lie."

"Just because you're insecure and lonely doesn't mean you should project your issues on to me," I crossed my arms after leaning back in my seat. Marco had constantly been bitching at me every time I mentioned something about my normal life, and frankly, I was tired of it and I was tired of him.

"Shut up."

There was silence in the car after that, and eventually the sound of the smooth engine began lulling me off to sleep, so I leaned my head back and let nature take its course.

"Hey, wake up!" A hand was shaking my shoulder, which made my eyes shoot open and made me take a defensive stance. The surprise was so great that it took a while to realise the blindfold had been taken off me. "You drool a lot when you sleep, you know."

"And that affects your life, how?" I raised an eyebrow at him and pushed off the seat to exit the car. We were in front of a big warehouse. From the outside it looked empty and abandoned, but it was obvious that on the inside there would be a bunch of people manufacturing drugs or something of the kind. There weren't any other cars around, so it was only logical to think that it was either empty, the cars were at another location, or there was an underground parking lot. Either way, the one thing that I was certain of would be that there would be hundreds of DiBiancci's armed guards all around the perimeter.

Without saying a word, Marco started to move toward the building with his squad in tow, and that's when I noticed the lead attached to my neck. This motherf—

"Are you serious? A collar?" I ran to catch up with them and tugged on the leather around my neck. Under different circumstances I might've liked it. "What the hell is this for? You really think I'm going to run away? In an open field? If I ran in any direction your men would easily take me down!" My outrage was becoming more and more obvious. "Take this off!"

"No. I know you're not going to run away. This is for your own protection, not because I think you're going to escape," he briefly looked at me before standing still and waiting for his guys to open the door.

"My own protection? Do you not understand who I am?" How many times would I have to say it? Nobody was listening to me!

"They don't know that, and personally, I'd keep it that way if I were you."

This statement made me pause my arguments because there were so many hidden meanings in it. One of them could mean that everyone inside this building was my enemy, even if he didn't confirm that there were people in it, and if that was the case, Marco putting a collar on me was the least of my problems. To say that I felt unsafe and vulnerable was such an understatement.

Upon entry, there was what seemed to be a barren open space that looked like what you'd expect an abandoned warehouse to look like. Dusty cracked cement floors, dilapidated walls with graffiti on them, broken windows, high ceilings with old lamps hanging from them, etc. But then, we went to the left, where there was a hidden door that was password protected, and after crossing it's threshold, it was like night and day. Literally.

It was dark, there was smoke in the air, and strobe lights could faintly be seen. Why would they have a club in the middle of nowhere? Was this one of those exclusive sex fetish clubs?

"Yep," I answered my own question after we crossed a second threshold. There was all kinds of activities happening all around us, and I couldn't take my eyes off some of them.

Being a modern woman who was confident in her sexuality did that sometimes.

My leash was tugged at and I continued to follow the group. There were dark doors all around the room, which I could only assume were playrooms for those who weren't comfy doing their business out in the open. A man in a gimp suit crossed our path with a mistress leading him. Part of his suit was open, and I think we can all guess which part that was.

The deeper into the club we went, the more wild things became, and by the time we reached what seemed to be an office, my neck felt warm and I was probably either panting or biting my lip. I couldn't tell because I couldn't feel my face from the opium smoke.

Marco's men dispersed around the room and he took a seat behind the huge desk, which I mimicked by taking a seat on the love seat to the side of the desk. For a while I sat there, looking at the floor, but not really looking. Flashbacks of what I'd seen kept playing around in my mind, and once again I had to ask myself, just what exactly was Marco into that would make him have something like this as a business? I understood owning clubs, my family owned five and I owned two strip clubs, but owning fetish clubs? That was unknown territory to me.

The things I'd seen here were more than I'd seen in the past six months. The heat in my throat resurfaced and I felt the need to cross my legs.

"Are you surprised?" I looked up to find the idiot looking at me like he expected me to say I wanted to go home. Joke's on him. "I understand if that was too much for you. I can tell Nispo to take you home if you want?"

Oh, so he was provoking me.

I looked at him square in the eyeballs and let him know that "I'm not surprised, I'm aroused."

We stared at each each other in complete silence, metaphorically fighting for dominance. I was winning, of course, because the look of surprise in Marco's eyes was giving him away.

Nobody ever expected me to say what was on my mind, because I cultivated a habit of acting coy before dropping the bombs. I could be blushing and avoiding eye contact, then cussing in front of a priest the next. I called it the art of omitting fucks to give on demand.

"As expected for a first timer," Marco smiled pleasantly and returned to doing his work. Now it was my turn to be stunned into silence.

He thought… oh dear lord.

A laugh began to bubble in my throat, and it got to the point where I couldn't contain it, so I laughed. I laughed so hard that my head started to hurt I started clutching my stomach. The tears beginning to gather in my eyes were no match for me, and they fell down my red face.

"Oh wow that was great," wiping the tears from my eyes only drew out more, and I sniffled. "I'm a switch, Marco. This isn't my first time," once again, surprise registered on his face. To think he had someone stalking me and still didn't know about my vices. "You should really fire the guy who was following me around if you weren't informed about my secret hobbies. So inefficient. You'd think someone like you would be smart enough to hire someone who could at least get my banking pin, no?"

"I didn't ask him to inform me about your sex life!" He snapped and slammed a hand on the table. So I was beginning to get under his skin? Marvellous. "And nobody asked you!"

"But you did though? You asked if this was my first time in a fetish club so I was just answering your question. No, it's not. I'm actually very experienced in—"

"Katarina, be quiet!"

"What are you so upset about? It's not like you don't know about the lifestyle, mister quality-leather-collar. You thought I wouldn't notice?" My pointer finger slid under the collar and tugged on it. "A collar like this costs at least two hundred dollars. This is seriously good stuff, I'll have to ask for the name of your supplier when I leave."

"You're not going anywhere," he was glaring at me, and it was almost like I could see his aura darkening. All that negativity tsk tsk. No one could blame him. I would be angry all the time too if I'd been 6'3 with a small— nope.

"Are you obsessed with me already?" My smirk seemed to irritate him even more, which was exactly what I was going for. The more he couldn't stand to be in my presence, the easier it would be for me to slip away and have some fun. "Can't say I blame you."

"What- no! Shut up!" For someone with Marco's attitude, I wasn't expecting him to be so easy to irritate. Maybe that was his flaw. He was so perceptive and yet so passionate that it ruined his perception.

"I won't shut up until you let me go out there and join."

"Fine, go, just please be quiet!" He rubbed his face and threw the leash at me. Smirking, I kicked off my shoes and socks before standing up to open the door, pulling it a little wider so one of his guards could follow and keep an eye on me.

Once again, the atmosphere was filled with smoke, and I approached a Madame with a mask on what looked like a bean bag chair who was holding a pipe. All it took for me was to kneel right in front of her before she was leaning and placing the pipe between my lips, her other hand cradling my face and touching my neck.

"You're collared," she purred in my ear. Her voice was like velvet and it made me feel so at ease. "Where is your owner?"

Hearing her call Marco my owner made my skin crawl, but this was a battle I was choosing not to fight for the sake of probably my own life. Upon entry of the building, he said that it was in my best interest for me to keep my name to myself, so that was one piece of advice I would be following today. "He's working," another puff of the pipe soothed my insides.

"Do you have permission to play, kitty?" Her lips were right by my ear, and I swear, my limbs were melting.

���Yes."

"Good."