3. The bracelets

Matteo Valentino

~•~

I was quite pissed at my brother. The dickhead was meant to be here since we had work to do, but he probably bailed to work for extra hours at our company. He was such a workaholic sometimes, but he cherry-picked his work.

He didn't come to the club much recently because he didn't have a slave. Well, we didn't have a slave — we always shared — and hadn't had one for up to three months now.

I sighed and left the office where I'd been waiting for him, intending to leave the club entirely. I didn't have much to do here as well if he wasn't here. I would find a woman in a pink bracelet, but I wasn't in the mood for anything sexual.

Well, at least, I thought I wasn't. Not until I was about to descend the stairs and saw a petite woman walk in.

I stopped in my tracks, hanging by the railing that overlooked the ground floor. She wasn't in the usual lingerie other women around here adorned, but she was clad in white… was it bralette they called it? It pushed up her small breasts and exposed her cleavage, along with matching white short shorts. She complemented it with red stilettos. In other words, she looked like a fucking angel.

Barely glancing at the woman beside her, my eyes zeroed in on her wrist. She was a submissive. The disappointment was instant.

We'd come up with the colored bracelets to avoid unnecessary conversations and to ensure one didn't waste time with another when they weren't a match.

There were many different personalities at the club and the bracelets were to indicate those personalities. It was easy to know who was compatible with who and what not.

There was no deep meaning to it, but the yellow on her wrist stood for submissive. Pink was for slaves. Red was for switches — those who could be a dominant/dominatrix and a submissive as they pleased. Blue and green were for littles and daddies respectively. Brown was for dominants and black was for masters.

Neither I nor my brother had one; we were the owners after all and we were barely down here except we had a slave to use for the night.

I stared at the little angel from where I was standing. Her long black hair flowed effortlessly down her back, stopping just right before her thin waist and her eyes were wide and curious as she stood frozen, watching a scene.

My eyes drifted to the taller woman beside her. Her eyes showed her eagerness. She was putting on a red bracelet. Was it their first time here? I was certain I would remember the face of that angel if I'd ever come across her before. But then again, I didn't frequent the ground floor so it was very likely to miss her if she'd come before.

"Evening, boss."

Kesha's greeting was what brought me out of what was quickly becoming a creepy staring, although I barely looked at her as I asked. "Ever seen those faces here before?" I almost cringed, hearing the curiosity in my tone; I almost always sounded nonchalant and I liked it that way.

Kesha's gaze followed my line of sight, landing on the women downstairs. "Boss, she's a switch."

As expected, that was the first thing she pointed out. Everyone who knew me knew I loved being in complete control when it came to my sexual… partners. "I'm not interested in her."

"Oh," her eyes shifted to the other woman; the one I happened to be interested in for some reason who unfortunately was just a submissive. "The other one is a submissive."

"I can see that," I said irritatedly. "I asked if you've seen them before now."

She gave them a once-over, shaking her head. "Definitely not. They look like newbies. Let me go see if the switch is interested in women."

I shot her a pointed look.

Kesha shrugged. "What? It's not my fault the one you're interested in isn't a slave. By the way, where's Rowan? Haven't seen him in a while?"

Kesha was a very interesting character. She was also a switch and she was bisexual as well. I didn't know if I would call her my friend, but she was definitely the only female I was quite close to without any sexual involvement. And she was definitely the only employee of mine who could speak with me casually.

She was the assistant manager, but she acted more like the manager. She didn't know it, but I and Rowan were looking into promoting her and demoting the manager, if not firing him.

My previous assistant was the one that ran the interviews and she probably didn't give Kesha the role of the manager because she was black and a woman. We'd been too busy to notice it, but definitely did now.

"I don't know," I finally answered her. "That was what I was going to find out."

"Until the pretty black-haired girl distracted you, right?" She guessed and my tongue poked the inside of my cheek, not wanting to admit she was right. She laughed. "She's new. She may not have gotten her quiz right."

I paused. That was a possibility. For a first-timer, the questions were a bit extreme and embarrassing. There were things on that list that people wouldn't like to admit out loud and may have subconsciously picked the other answers. I really hoped that was the case with her.

I didn't know what exactly attracted me to her, but I wasn't Matteo Valentino if I didn't go after what I wanted.

"I hope she didn't," I mumbled to myself. I felt like taking a picture to show Rowan, but there was a reason cell phones weren't allowed inside in the first place. I'd be breaching the code I put in place and it wasn't legally accepted as well.

A snort escaped Kesha and my eyes snapped to hers. I released a sigh, realizing she heard my last sentence.

"This is the part where I leave you alone to the dirty thoughts running through your head."

"Good," I replied, but made a dazzling realization about the fact that I hadn't thought anything dirty concerning her.