CHAPTER 2: Desiree
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Desiree stood frozen in front of her locker at La Petite Mort Club. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She could do this. She would do this. It was for her future. She opened her eyes, shut her locker and walked into the Club.
Thankfully, she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. She’d spent hours picking out her outfit, her goal sexy not slutty. She wore a long, tight, black skirt that had a slit to her mid-thigh and a blue, low-cut blouse that hugged her breasts. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, the kind that made a man want to pull a strand and watch it cascade around her shoulders.
She made her way to the bar, the gold on her bracelet seeming to glow in the dark, screaming she was for sale. She glanced down the hallway that led to the playrooms. S
