Doubling Down

“I can’t believe you’re still driving this thing,” Casey says, patting the hood of my old Honda after we extract ourselves from the party. It’s mostly parents and a bunch of third-graders, so they won’t miss us.

“It’s served me well—two cross-country trips, and I’m hoping it’ll survive a third in a few weeks.”

“Holy shit, that’s right! You drove it across the fucking country.” She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. “I am so sorry I flaked on our trip. It would’ve been epic. I can only imagine the kind of adventure you had.”

I can’t help but laugh as I unlock the doors and we climb in. “It was an experience, but mostly pretty boring. It would’ve been more fun with a partner, for sure.” I glance at her when I put the car in gear.

She gives me a sly smile and nods. “Most things are more fun with a partner. Or two.”

“I take it that means Max and Rick are still in the picture? And that you’re happy?”

Her grin widens. “Let’s just say we’ve tested each other’s boundaries thoroughly over the past few years, and it’s only brought us closer.”

I pull out onto the main road and Casey directs me toward the highway. I’m curious about her unconventional relationship, but I’m not sure if I still have the right to ask about it. I’d love to compare notes, but I didn’t exactly pursue something long-term with the twins.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” she says with a devious smile.

I can only assume it’s some kind of nightclub, considering she insisted that I put on a skimpy black velvet mini-dress that drapes low in front and shows off the fanciest bra I own, something I splurged on during a weekend trip to Los Angeles with my roommate. Black satin straps that look like fat ribbons crisscross over my chest. It looks like it could be part of the dress, but it isn’t. It makes me feel sexy and uninhibited, and I get a thrill from simply being seen wearing it, even though I made a vow not to get involved with anyone until I graduate from college. I don’t want to risk the emotional devastation of losing someone again when I need to focus on school.

“Do Max and Rick know you’re taking me out? They’re cool with it?”

“Don’t worry, they know. They’ll be there, actually. So whatever happens, if you decide you just need to go, I’ll understand. You don’t need to worry about me, okay?”

I shoot her a worried look. “Okay…now I’m really curious about where we’re going.”

We’re on the highway, and she directs me to take an exit that leads to a wealthy area north of the city, where all the houses have gated grounds and circular drives with acres of land between them. This is decidedly not the way to any nightclubs I’ve ever heard of.

But she keeps mum about where we’re going. Frustrated, I say, “Fine, if you won’t tell me, at least give me some dirt on yourself. I need to know what it’s been like for you the past three years.”

She waves a hand. “Oh, you know—school and work. I’m getting decent grades at Columbia. Majoring in psychology. And I get paid to have sex while people watch.”

She’s so blasé about her answer it takes a second for the last part to sink in. I nearly slam on the brakes.

“What? Did I hear you right?”

Casey laughs. “You did. But shit, to explain, I kind of have to tell you the truth about where we’re going. Doesn’t matter, though, because we’re here. Turn into this driveway.”

I obey, hitting my turn signal and pulling into a driveway with a fancy gatehouse blocking a drive that curves through the trees, lit with ornate lampposts all the way. I roll down my window and a man peeks in. “May I help you, miss?”

“George, it’s me,” Casey says, leaning over the console and waving. “This is my best friend, Sarah. I already put her on the list for a tour of Whitewood tonight.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Strauss. You ladies enjoy your evening.”

He presses a button to raise the gate, and I drive through, glancing at Casey. “So you’re going to explain everything, right?”

“You know, it might be easier if I just show you, but I promise, all will be revealed.” She grins as if she just made a joke, but I’m not sure I get it.

I return my eyes to the road, which is a narrow lane that winds around through dense woods. The trees finally open onto the grounds of a gorgeous Tudor mansion, well-lit from the outside. I stop at a valet stand, and someone immediately opens my door for me and offers me a white-gloved hand. I take it, too surprised not to, and step out of the car, carefully smoothing my hands down my slinky dress, then reaching back in for my purse.

“Where did you bring me, Case?” I ask under my breath as I follow her up the flagstone walkway to the house.

A muscular man in a very fitted suit nods at her, then leans over to open one of a pair of double doors. On my way past, I surreptitiously check him out, and wow, is he built. He also has an earbud in one ear. A second guy, similarly huge—also with an earbud—waits at another set of doors inside.

“This is where I work,” she says.

I absorb the information, but it’s still not quite making sense. She gets paid to let people watch her have sex. And this is where she works…in the most beautiful house I’ve ever set foot in.

We step into an opulent foyer, and I just stare at the polished mahogany paneling, silk damask wallpaper, and crystal chandelier. Two enormous bouquets of summer flowers rest on tables flanking the archway ahead of us, but on either side are two other openings, beyond which are scattered a dozen or so well-dressed people, milling around and drinking champagne while they chat.

It’s the fanciest party I’ve ever been to, and I suddenly feel underdressed. Half the men are in suits, and all the women are in cocktail dresses that appear designer-made. I admit when I put on my Agent Provocateur bra, I felt like I might be showing off a little much, but now it seems like I couldn’t have possibly gone overboard in this crowd.

A pair of men stand out, wearing worn jeans and snug cotton T-shirts. They see us standing there, and Casey waves. Some of the tension eases from my body. Thank god, someone I know.

Max and Rick saunter over, smiling. “It’s been a while, Sarah,” Max says, leaning down to kiss my cheek. He doesn’t look a day older than when I last saw him, and is as hot as ever with his dark hair and devious dark eyes.

“What kept you away so long?” Rick asks, pulling me into a tight hug so I can smell the familiar scents of sawdust and varnish clinging to him—though the last time he hugged me, I was a kid.

This hug is just as innocent as they always were, though, which is comforting. Rick and Max were the DILFs of our neighborhood, but were always the nicest, coolest dudes. And I guess they never technically had kids of their own, so the term is probably misplaced. Either way, Casey could’ve done a lot worse.

“Oh, you know, school kind of monopolized my time.” I wave a hand and let out a nervous laugh.

“Let’s get Sarah a drink,” Rick says. “She looks a little shellshocked. Case, what’d you tell her about the club so far?”

“Not much. This place is hard to describe. Easier to just give her a tour. She needs to go through the Chloe gauntlet before we can actually show her anything, though—you know that.”

“Well, let’s not waste time,” Max says. He hands me a glass of champagne, then tilts his head for us to follow him down a hallway.

I take a sip of the bubbly, which fortifies me a little. It tastes expensive. “At least give me the short version so I know what to expect,” I say. “I’m starting to feel a little out of my depth.”

“Whitewood is a kink club,” Max says. “That about sums it up.”

“You mean BDSM?” I ask. After some of the secrets Casey shared with me before we quit speaking, I shouldn’t be surprised, but now I’m even less sure I belong here.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Rick says. “It’s a safe space for a variety of kinks. Not everyone who’s kinky is into bondage and discipline. For example, one of our most popular Doms is more about control. He doesn’t do pain or bondage at all, but expects his subs to obey his voice alone. His subs, on the other hand, are into pain, so they often take turns playing with each other while he gives the commands. It’s a trip to watch.”

“We’ll introduce you to all the kinks a bit later,” Casey says. “For now, just be polite and honest when Chloe interviews you.”

I raise my eyebrows as we stop outside a door. “Interviews me for what? I thought I was just tagging along.”

“You are. But you can’t go upstairs without answering some questions and signing an NDA. If you get up there and decide you want to participate, you need to be aware of the rules.”

The door opens, and a distinguished-looking woman with silver hair stands there, blue eyes taking me in. “This is your friend Sarah?” she asks.

“The one and only. I trust her with my life,” Casey says. “Be gentle with her, okay?”

“Wait, you’re not leaving me, are you?” I ask, mild panic sinking into my gut.

Casey squeezes my arm. “I promise, as long as you’re here, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do. You’ll be in good hands.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I have to go to work,” she says, giving me a peck on the cheek, then turning to go with a wink. She disappears down the hallway, flanked by Max and Rick.

Blindsided by my friend abandoning me, I steel myself and look at Chloe. She gives me a warm smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s not as scary as you think. Come, let me give you a refill while we talk. Please, sit.”

She gestures to a pair of armchairs situated near an unlit fireplace. A sheet of paper rests on the table between them, a pen laying diagonally on top of it. I sit and peek at the paper, which turns out to be the NDA Casey mentioned.

Chloe refills my drink and proceeds to grill me about my sexual history and interests. She’s disturbingly thorough, but despite feeling cornered, this is the first time I feel free enough to talk about my month with the twins. I don’t name them, of course; I just explain how there were two boys fostered in our house who I had my sexual awakening with. She’s so accepting of the story that the level of shame I still feel seems like overkill.

“Interesting,” Chloe says, a smile on her face that makes me wonder if she somehow gets off on hearing people’s secrets. “And these twins…they were your age, correct?”

“A few months younger. They weren’t eighteen yet. I was. Maybe that’s wrong, but we were all consenting.”

She waves a hand. “I believe you. I also think you will fit in quite well at Whitewood. Facilitating our patrons in exploring their secret fantasies is what we’re best at.”

“As fun as it sounds, I don’t know if I can afford to be a member,” I say, laughing. “Besides, I’m only in town for the summer. I leave for my last year of college in a couple months.”

“You’re a guest of one of our most popular trios. Max and Rick are two of the best Doms on my staff, and if they’re willing to sponsor you, you may visit once a month at no cost. There are rules you must follow, of course. And if you want to visit more frequently, you must either pay the membership fee, or agree to perform.”

Perform? Not a chance. I give a nervous laugh. “I doubt it’ll come to that. I’m just curious. It’s okay if I’m just an observer, right?”

Again she smiles. “Of course. No one here is ever coerced into doing something they don’t want to do. However, I will need you to sign this. It’s to protect you as much as the other members and performers.”

She pushes the NDA closer, then lifts the sheet, revealing a second piece of paper underneath, also with a signature line. “And please review this list. These are all the activities our members engage in while here. Please rank each one by level of interest from zero to five—five being enthusiastically interested, and zero being a hard no. At the top here is where you list your safe word.”

“What do I need to do this for, if I’m not participating?” I scan the list, eyes widening at the variety of acts covered. With most there are two options, which involve both giving and receiving of every activity. But when I recognize several of the things I did with the twins, my panties moisten. This is a place that accepts what we did without question or judgment.

“It’s to protect you, Sarah. We are very strict about maintaining the safety of our members, but on the rare occasion someone has a bad experience, we need to have a record of your hard limits. This list does not indicate tacit consent for any of the items on it; it’s just for information purposes. I’ll give you a few moments to fill it out, then I’ll have a member of the staff give you the tour.”

She stands and refills my glass again, then disappears through a door in one corner of her office.

“Wow, okay, I guess I’m doing this,” I murmur. I glance at the champagne and push it away. I’m buzzed enough as it is. If this is happening, I want a clear head.

I sign the NDA after scanning it, then start working my way down the list, leaving the safe word for last since that will require a little more thought. The entire time, my stomach flutters and my panties get wetter.

The first item is the benign activity of kissing and being kissed. I rank both a four, because while I love kissing, it’s not what I’d call the pinnacle of pleasure for me. SM is a maybe, so three, and bondage is a four.

Genital torture is a hard zero, as is watersports or scat. Yuck.

Most of the items on the list are things I’ve thought about, but never done, and don’t turn me off so much I’d avoid them. Few are enthusiastic fives, but the one I mark fastest is “one looking for two.”

A surge of excitement rushes through me when I make the mark. It never occurred to me that I’d find myself in the position to be with two partners again, but the fact that it’s a possibility—no matter how remote—makes me giddy. I doubt I’ll find anything like I had with the twins, but being here isn’t about finding a relationship anyway. This place is about exploring fantasies and having fun, right?

At the end of the list, I move to the top again and fill in the blank for safe word. My subconscious has been dredging up old memories of the twins this entire time, and it’s as if our month of fun was only yesterday. I write “Starry Night” in the blank and nearly choke up at the thought of how much they’d have loved this place. If only we’d found it together.

Then I stand and wander to the nearby bookshelf, perusing Chloe’s library. I expect books about sexuality, but mostly find classics, though some are decidedly racy classics like Fanny Hill, ~Lady Chatterley’s Lover~, or ~Delta of Venus.~

The door opens and I turn, smiling at Chloe. “I finished the list.”

“Wonderful. Then I will leave you in the capable hands of my tour guides.” She steps aside and motions toward the door.

As if she’s read my mind, not one, but two men step through. They’re tall, clean-cut, muscular…and they’re twins.

Not only that, they’re my twins.