Rope. Naked flesh. A cold sweat washed over Chloe as the atmosphere at the BDSM club Chains closed in on her. There didn’t seem to be anything special about the club—it resembled a typical nightclub. In the center, tables and chairs were like those you’d find in any casual nightclub. Off to the left, couches were scattered around with couples cuddling on them. And at the very back, a bartender served alcohol to the crowd. The difference was the BDSM equipment set up around the room. Most women in attendance opted for tight clothing, which Chloe thought of as gothic-inspired, while the men wore black, with the occasional guy in jeans. As much as she tried—and hell, did she try—she couldn’t absorb all that was going on around her: a station where the tips of needles were inserted into a woman’s breasts, another where a woman was being caned on her bottom until it was purple and bloody, a third where yet another woman was lying on a table as an older gentleman dragged a knife down her stomach.
