Welcome to The Pleasure Club, where fantasy becomes reality.
She’s tried therapy, self-defense classes, rearranged her entire life so she doesn’t sleep at night, but nothing has alleviated her fear of the dark—of the things that go bump in the night.
Now she’s turned to The Pleasure Club to recreate the night that ruined her life. To recreate it and fix it, change it so she comes out the victor. But things never go as they should, and her Pleasure Master is so much more than the faceless intruder she expected.
Dear Ms. Yeager,
We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.
As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.
We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.
When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should you at any time become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here for your pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you and your Pleasure Master can be reached.
Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.
Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.
The Pleasure Club Management
* * * * *
Your Pleasure Night will begin Friday the 8th, 11:00 PM at your house.
Your safe word is Alert.
The Pleasure Guardians
* * * * *
Enola Yeager pulled the covers up to her neck and checked the clock on her nightstand yet again. The red digital numbers read 10:55. Her palms cold and clammy, she wrung her hands together and prayed she had the strength to go through with this.
She needed it. Needed to get past this terror that gripped her whenever the house grew dark and quiet at night. Needed to reclaim her life so she didn’t have to stay up all night. For two whole years, she’d turned her life upside down just to survive. Sleep during the day, work at night. Work in her home office, with the door locked, barred against an intruder.
The fear needed to end!
The clock read 10:58 now. Her heart hammered so hard her chest hurt, and she wanted to jump up and turn on the light. She hadn’t been alone in the dark in those two years, and…
She swallowed, her mouth dry. He’d be here in two minutes. Two short minutes. Then she could turn all of this around and start over without fear.
A tear streamed down her cheek and into her hair. Her whole body shook, and cold sweat popped out on her forehead.
She pushed herself up against the headboard and edged her feet toward the side of the bed so she could be prepared to jump up.
The Pleasure Guardians swore the man knew the rules, knew exactly what she wanted from tonight. What if he was actually like the real one? What if—
Glass shattered downstairs.
Enola yelped and clamped her hand over her mouth. Her stomach turned. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t do this. Couldn’t— I have to do this! I need to be free of this terror.
He was a Pleasure Master. He wouldn’t hurt her. He knew the rules she needed to play by tonight.
The old house creaked, the hardwood stairs moaning as he made his way toward her room.
Only the faintest glow filtered in the window from the streetlight outside her house. It was enough to see the bedroom door swing open and a huge, imposing black figure stand in the doorway.
She froze. Her mind screamed in terror, but her body locked up solid, motionless, on the bed. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t even tremble.
The dark figure moved toward the bed. Midnight jacket, pants, gloves, but most terrifying was the black facemask that covered his head and hid everything but his eyes and mouth.
“No,” she whispered, or thought she whispered. Her lips moved, but she wasn’t sure any sound came out because the blood pounded in her ears too loud for her to hear anything.
The intruder stalked toward her, stealthy and slow, his steps silent on the carpet. She gripped the edge of the bedspread in her fists until her hands hurt. He crossed the room and stood over her at the edge of the bed.