Rescue Me

Chapter 6. The Fourth Floor at Club Delco

"Yeah," I said.

"Not the best first impression," Cecilia admitted, "but I'm glad you still decided to give us a chance."

"Honestly, I was more impressed with how you handled it. You'd be surprised how many people either never call, wait too long, or hide important stuf

f because they're scared of what might happen."

Cecilia nodded seriously. "I can't even imagine. But I promise that won't happen here. Safety is everything at Club Delco. If it ever came down to it, I'd rather the place shut down than someone get hurt because we didn't do enough."

"Good to hear," I said, meaning it.

From there, the conversation moved into business.

Cecilia walked me through everything about the club. Club Delco had four levels, each catering to different kinds of members. The ground floor was basically social: a classy bar, lounge, and dance floor. No nudity, no s*x—meant to keep things discreet for anyone wandering in from the street, even though all members had to check in at the front desk.

The second through fourth floors were where the action happened. The second floor was men and masc-identifying members. The third was just for women and femme-identifying folks. And the fourth—where I was headed—was open for everyone. Each level had its bar, smaller lounges, locker and shower rooms, playrooms, and even recovery spaces. What caught my attention, though, was that each floor had an area off the lounge specifically for exhibitionists. I made a mental note to check that out on the fourth.

Cecilia didn't miss a detail in her explanation, though I'd already gone through the membership guide online more than once. When she asked what kind of membership I wanted, I told her Silver for the month. Then I handed over my ID, credit card, and test results.

A few signatures and a hundred bucks later, I was officially a member of Club Delco.

When we wrapped up, Cecilia called over her sister, Camilla, to show me around.

"The floor layouts are the same," Camilla said once we were in the hallway. "Any preference on where to start?"

"The fourth," I said.

She smiled, like she already knew I'd say that, and led me to the elevator.

"You picked a good night to join," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Grace Lincoln is here tonight."

The name meant something to her, but I just blinked at her.

She chuckled softly. "She's... kind of a legend around here. VIP status. Been a regular for years. People line up to watch her scene—hell, even folks who don't usually go for women end up wanting her. She's stunning, confident, and sharp as hell. Knows exactly how to run a scene."

"Is she a top?" I asked, trying to play it cool, but genuinely curious. I wasn't here to get dommed—not unless the itch hit. That's not what this was about for me.

Camilla laughed. "Oh, no. Power bottom, through and through. I can probably count on one hand the times she's topped—and that's just based on what she's told me."

That gave me pause. "You two are friends?"

"Something like that. As close as she lets anyone get, I think. We've both been around for a while."

I nodded, filing that away. "So if she's here all the time, what's the big deal about tonight?"

"She booked the Black Room for the whole night."

I must've looked confused again, because she raised an eyebrow like it should be obvious.

"The Black Room?"

I tried to remember all the themed rooms Cecilia had mentioned earlier, but came up blank.

"Unofficially?" Camilla grinned. "It's the gangbang room."

"Oh."