Adventurous Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

home, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to digest everything I saw and heard. I also can’t get Master Clint’s face out of my mind. There’s something about those eyes, the intensity of his gaze and the sadness there, that I can’t shake. I’m wondering if I’ll ever meet him.
    The next day, Sheila tries every ploy she can think of to get me to tell her where I went and what I did. I won’t. I think she’s mad. Too bad. She could’ve come along too, but she backed out – work, my ass.
    So I start doing some thinking, and I work through lunch so I can take off an hour early. When I leave the office, I go straight to the place named on the front of the bag that Dave had handed me. And I’m not disappointed when I get there.
    All they have is – what do they call it? fetwear? – and it’s almost overwhelming. There’s a young girl with pink, spikey hair working, hanging up things that I can’t bring myself to call clothes. I guess she sees me looking around and she comes up to me quietly, so quietly that when she speaks, I jump about a foot. “Can I help . . . oh, gee, I didn’t mean to scare you! Can I help you find something?”
    What should I say to her? , I wonder. She doesn’t know me, so I decide to just jump right in. “Yeah, um, I’m joining a fetish club and I’m going to be going through sub training. And I’m not,” I look at her and smile, “your age. So what would you suggest for someone like me?”
    “Honey, if you’re joining a fetclub, it doesn’t matter how old you are. Nobody in the club scene cares about age. So tell me, what’s the fetish? Is this a foot club? A tit club? An ass club? A BDSM club?”
    “BDSM?”
    “Yeah. Bondage-discipline-sadism-masochism-dominance-submission-slave-master.” She says it so easily that I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s up to in her free time.
    “That’s it.” I make a mental note to look it up on the Internet and learn that term. If I’m going to do it, I should be fluent in it. “So I need to know what to wear, and I need to buy some things. I don’t want to wear the same thing every time I go.”
    “Some people do. Fetwear is kind of expensive, so some people have to wear the same thing every time. One outfit will set you back a couple hundred dollars.” I think she sees the look of horror on my face because she’s quick to add, “But I think I can help you with some mix-and-match stuff that will work out nicely and be a little cheaper.”
    We start to go through the racks. I find a black and red leather corset that I like a lot. She finds a black lace tank and a black, ruffled, short skirt to go with it. I have the leggings Dave gave me and that corset, plus the black lace tee. She finds me a pair of boots that I really like, mid-calf with buckles up the sides and four-inch heels. I pick through a rack and find a dark purple leather bra with an attached, sheer flounce that reaches down past my waist. That’s really, really cute. She comes up with some leather shorts, and then I find purple shoes. Bingo. She rings it all up and it’s two hundred and forty-some-odd dollars, but I think that’s a steal. I put it all on Ron’s credit card. He doesn’t know it, but he’s going to pay for it.
    On my way out, I notice some jewelry. It’s beautiful. I mean, I know the stones aren’t real, and it’s just cheap metal, but it’s nice for the club scene. She’s showing me some pretty pieces that will work with what I’ve bought when I move down a case and see something that takes my breath away.
    The case is full of collars. Some of them are plain wide leather, and some are chain. There are a couple of thin silver ones, a few thin leather, and there’s one or two made of brass. But right in the middle of the group is a piece that makes my heart almost stop.
    It’s gold, gleaming gold, and about an inch wide. It has a row of stones along the top and bottom of the band, but right in the center, it has a