Chapter 25
Freddie
The Uber lets me out around the corner. I don’t really want him knowing that I was going to a BDSM club but given that I am barely dressed and what I do have on is shiny and like a second skin; I think he knows what I’m up to as I thank him and jump out.
It’s drizzly with rain as I make my way to Nyctra. The front looks like a normal, boring building, but there’s a guy out front, and he steps out from the shadows like Batman when I get closer.
“Hey, big man. I’m here with this fancy black card. Any chance you can tell me if I am in the right place?” I say playfully with a wink as I flash the membership card that glistens in the streetlight outside.
He grins a wide, white smile and throws his head back with a laugh. “You must be the guy Burt was telling me to look out for this week. I already like you. Maybe we can hang out another time and you can let me hear that sexy accent more,” he says as he opens the heavy black door behind him.
“Maybe, but I’m here for another big guy tonight. But I’m always on the lookout for new friends, especially playful ones,” I reply with another wink. He chuckles again and nods.
“Sure. Friends. I’ll get your info another time, but for now, go have fun and behave. I have a feeling you’re not one that behaves often though.”
“And you’d be right…”
“Hollins.”
“Right, Hollins. Well, I’ll try to be good, since you asked so nicely,” I tell him as I head on into the club and out of the wet weather.
I check my coat with a woman at the front, then get my wristbands that tell everyone what I want or don’t want for the evening. Excitement thrums in my blood as I think about what lies beyond the velvet red curtains.
Coming here was one part curiosity about what a luxury, exclusive BDSM club even looks like and the other part hopes to find Simmons here.
Yeah, it’s dumb because what he did to me was shitty.
But I want him to see what he could have had.
We never even got to the better parts of sex before he abandoned the thought of us being anything more.
His loss, but I intend to show him that his image of me as a brat is nowhere near what the real thing is like.
I opted for thigh-high black boots with a tartan latex mini skirt and a matching crop top.
My hair is wavy, and my makeup is my version of slutty grunge.
I’m wearing a thick silver paperclip chain with a padlock at the front, and my nails are a lovely chipped red.
I take the token for picking up my coat later, and I finally step through the curtain to see what lies beyond.
Immediately, I hear the sounds of sex. Even though the music is playing, there are moans to be heard and cries of passion echoing around the floor I’m on.
The layout seems to be that the ground floor has booths with privacy and a dance floor, and a bar.
There’s a dark hallway that leads to where they must do performances and have equipment and furniture for public use.
The upper levels have signs about private rooms and voyeur rooms too.
I LOVE watching, so that’s something I might check out after I grab a drink.
Despite being offered tokens for a two drink max, I opt for a sparkling water with lime in it.
Thanking the sexy-looking warrior who served me, I sip through the little black straw as I look around.
The club is sensual, but provocative. There are people dancing, grinding against one another.
There are cages hanging that are currently empty, and I feel a zing straight to my cock as I think about being forced into one of them for being bad.
What punishments would Simmons give out here to his subs?
Is he into giving pain? I’d prefer pain as punishment, as I want to lose myself to the sting and heat of a cane.
However, I haven’t really faced any kind of punishment and lack significant experience playing with a Dom or publicly in a club like this apart from work-related tours and invites to watch demonstrations.
Maybe I could rectify that. Even if Simmons isn’t here tonight, there have to be plenty of guys like him that are looking for a boy. I might want nothing sexual with them, but maybe I could get them to give me a little pain.
I see a guy, head to toe in tattoos, making his way over to the bar, and I lick my lips as he approaches where I’m standing and orders two bottles of water.
He’s wearing leather trousers and boots.
Ink covers his bare torso, and little black barbells pierce his nipples.
I wonder if he likes them being played with.
Maybe he enjoys them being pulled and twisted to the point of pain.
“Hey, you’re new.” I look from his chest to his face and see him smiling at me. I shamelessly take one more look at his nipples before looking back at him and returning the smile.
“Hey yourself. I am new,” I smirk as I respond. Maybe this guy can tan my hide if I play my cards right.
“Enjoying it?”
“So far. Could be enjoying myself more though,” I playfully reply as I sip my drink and look at him again through my lashes.
“Well, why don’t I introduce you to my friend? He’s all alone tonight and could use some cheering up,” he shouts over the music, despite being close enough for us to touch.
“Maybe I was after a good time with his friend instead,” I flirt. He throws his head back in laughter.
“You’re definitely his type. C’mon, I promise you’ll like what you see,” he tells me as he grabs the bottled water that’s now placed on the bar in front of him. Fuck it, why not. His friend better be hot though, because this guy is hot as sin.
“Freddie,” I shout in his ear as we weave through the throng of hot, dancing bodies to the other side where the booths sit.
I notice as we get closer that there are quite a few subs on leashes sitting by their owners’ feet.
Some are performing oral but others are just sitting quietly, eyes closed, enjoying their master’s company.
“I know who you are Freddie, I’m Arnie,” he winks then turns back to where we have stopped.
Confused how this guy knows me, I try to think if Burt mentioned maybe a worker that would know me or find me when I got here, but nothing is coming to mind.
I shake off the thought for now and give my attention to Arnie, who is sliding into the booth opposite a guy who must be the friend.
I step closer and step up onto the platform the booths are on.
“Hey, I’m Freddie,” I tell the stranger, but that’s when I finally see who Arnie’s friend is.
Motherfucker.