Chapter Text
The first time he sees Abigail, she’s sitting perched on a bright red vinyl booth seat dressed in cut-off shorts that are so short he can see the curve of her ass cheeks and wearing a cropped pink tee that proudly proclaims SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY.
She’s smiling, a bright open grin that lights up the room as she accepts a beer from a blushing waiter that John is immediately and overwhelmingly jealous of.
Sean, the bastard that’s dragged him along that evening, skips past him to sit in the booth behind her.
“Abi! My love, I brought you a present!” He makes to grab at her over the top of the vinyl divider and she stops him with just a single finger against his forehead, pushing him back to sit with the lightest of touches.
It’s amazing to watch because John’s gotten familiar with Sean’s handsyness these past few months and the man is like a barnacle and just about as easy to pry away from yourself. He really wants to know how she’s managed it.
Before he can be more impressed with the maneuver though, the woman in question has turned to face him and he’s pinned by sharp blue eyes and one delicately arched brow. She looks him over slowly, eyes tracing him from head to toe before settling back on his face where he can feel an intense blush forming.
Her lips are painted a bright pink that matches her shirt and they quirk up, seeing him flustered.
“Oh, you are precious, aren’t you?” Her voice is a low seductive purr and she crooks her finger at him, motioning him forward. His feet stumble towards her before his brain can catch up with them.
“I knew you’d like him.” Sean crows behind her, and John spares him a look of mild panic because he has no idea what to do here. Sean meets his gaze and waggles his eyebrows lewdly, which doesn’t help at all.
“What’s your name, pretty boy?” She asks, when he stops a foot or so away from her, propping her hand in her chin to look up at him through long dark lashes.
“Uh… John?” It comes out kind of high, like a question, and John really wants to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. He’s never been any good at talking to women but he’s not usually this awkward.
“John…” Her lips form around his name in a way that’s somehow entirely sexual and he can’t drag his eyes from them as they wrap around the tip of her beer bottle. He watches as she takes a sip, tongue swirling against the rim as she pulls it back away from her mouth.
John makes a tiny sound that is definitely not a whimper and Sean cackles in the background.
“So, John,” She shifts her whole body on the seat to face him. The vinyl creaking as it pulls at the smooth skin of her legs. She stands slowly, intentionally, and he’s shocked to find she barely reaches his shoulders. One of her hands comes up to trace up his arm, and then along his collar bone, toying with the collar of his shirt. “Would you like to play with me, tonight?”
“Uh… play?” He didn’t think he could get more flustered, but he’s pretty sure his face is the reddest it’s ever been and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest like he’s just run a mile.
She looks at him for a long moment and then something seems to shift, her eyes narrowing.
“Sean MacGuire!” She barks, turning away from him to glare at Sean who shrinks back from the look. “Tell me you did not bring this poor boy here with no idea of what you were walking him into!”
“Uh… I mean.” Sean backpedals as far as he can into the booth, looking mildly terrified. “I thought it’d be funny?”
“Did you.” Her voice is flat and unimpressed.
“My mistake?”
“Oh, you bet it is. Get out of that booth.” She points to the floor in front of her. “Now!”
It’s clearly an order and Sean scrambles to obey, looking cowed.
“I’m sorry!”
“Not yet you’re not.” She pokes a finger into his chest. “But you’re going to be because you’re going to march your sorry ass over to the bar right now and tell Karen exactly what you did.”
“Oh come on! Abi… I didn’t mean nothing by it.” He pleads.
“Bar! Now!” She orders and he raises his hands in surrender and slinks away. “And don’t even think about lying to her, mister! I’ll be checking up that you told her everything later and it will be a thousand times worse for you if I have to be the one to let her know what you did!”
They’ve drawn less attention at that outburst than he would have expected. The club is only about half full this early in the evening but there’s still enough people milling around that all that yelling should have half the floor staring at them. Instead, there are a few curious glances that turn away as soon as Sean disappears around a corner.
Abigail sighs and shakes her head.
“I’d apologize for that idiot, but I expect if you’re his friend you have some idea of what a jackass he can be.”
“Uh… yeah. I guess?” John had no idea what’s going on here and now the only person he knows in the place has wandered off somewhere… or been sent away somewhere anyway and he doesn’t know what to do.
“Come on, have a seat. I’ll buy you a beer and explain.” Abigail seems to sense his confused discomfort because she slides back into her seat and motions for him to join her.
All the intensity of a moment before has dropped away and she seems less intimidating suddenly. Hesitantly he sits.
“So, what did Sean tell you he was inviting you along to tonight?” She asks, waving her beer at a passing waiter to indicate she would like another for John.
John flushes again at that and ducks his gaze.
“Uh… he said this club was…” John pauses because Sean had implied a lot but hadn’t actually told him that much at all. “He kinda suggested it was a little… wild? Like… kind of a sex thing?”
Abigail sighs. Accepts a beer from the waiter again and pops the cap before handing it over to him. John takes it, grateful to have something to do with his hands.
“Well, that’s something at least.” She says, playing with the bottle cap. “You know what kink is, John? BDSM?”
“Like… that fifty shades thing?” He wonders. He knows he’s heard those words used to talk about it. He’d tried to sneak a peek at Mrs. Grimshaw’s copy when it came out but had only managed to skim a few confusing pages before the woman had caught him and given him a long chewing out about going through other people’s things.
“Ugh. Kind of?” Abigail looks a bit like she’s bit into a lemon. “That book’s terrible though.”
“I never actually read it.” He admits. “Just… remember people talking about it a lot.”
“Kink is like… a thing you enjoy sexually. Something specific and maybe unusual. Like maybe you really get worked up over someone playing with your feet or having a partner that’s dressed in a latex catsuit.”
John can feel his blush starting back up full force again.
Also, he’s now picturing Abigail in a skintight black shiny catsuit.
“You really are precious.” She muses sounding sort of charmed by his awkwardness, which is a better reaction than most women have to John. “Anyway, BDSM is like a specific kink… or a grouping of them I guess. It stands for Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, and Sadism and Masochism.”
“Like… tying people up?” He asks, because there’s a picture of a woman tied up in ropes on Sean’s wall. It’s black and white, artsy as hell, not quite showing anything but very risque and John’s always assumed the man has it because he likes to make people uncomfortable. Not because he actually wanted to tie someone up. Or be tied up by someone.
And now he’s thinking of Sean tied up naked and that’s way less appealing than Abigail in a catsuit.
“That’s part of it, yes. The bondage – tying someone up so they can’t move freely and have to depend on another person. Discipline is punishment – that can be physical like spanking someone, or more emotional, like not allowing them something they want. Dominance and Submission is where you have one partner that has control over the other, psychologically or sexually, and Sadomasochism is pain. A sadist enjoys giving pain and a masochist enjoys receiving it.”
She’s watching him intently as she speaks and he finds he can’t quite meet her gaze.
“Oh.” He clears his throat and gulps down some beer to have something to do. “And. That’s what you… uh... do? Here?”
“Sometimes.” She smiles, looking friendly and gentle which is such a contrast to the predatory edge from before he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Valhalla’s just a regular club most of the time, but you’re here on a specifically kink-themed night.”
“Oh.” He says again, and it sounds even stupider to his ears the second time. “It… doesn’t seem that different than a normal club?”
It’s true. If anything, the club so far feels more like a diner than any of the nightclubs he’s been to in the past. There’s a big open area in the center of the room with a few people milling around but the music is relatively low – a kind of hypnotic electropop that drifts easily into the background, providing a bit of cover for conversations but not much else. There’s not much dancing at the moment, most people sat in small groups in one of the ring of booths around the room.
“Well, all the really exciting things happen in the back rooms.” She nods towards where Sean slunk off to earlier. There’s an innocuous door there. “This is a no-play zone. Like a meeting space, I guess. Though I think the lights get turned down and the music up on regular nights.”
“You… uh said that before.” He hesitates. “…Play?”
“Play means acting out something featuring one of those kinks.” She tells him, a teasing smile on her lips.
“And… you wanted to… do that?” He asks slowly. “With me?”
There’s a touch of that predatory intensity from before to the smile she gives him at that.
“Oh yes.” He swallows, trying to imagine what that would be like. Would she want him to tie her up? Would she want to tie him up? “But I don’t take on partners that don’t know what they’re getting into.” She says, before he can try and figure out how to respond.
Yes, please? That sounds hot?
“What if… I wanted to learn more?” He hates that everything he says seems to come out as a question.
“Do you?” She asks, sounding curious. “Want to know more?”
He licks his lips, picks at the label on his beer and tries to think. John’s total sexual experiences are limited to one high school girlfriend and a few not very inspired one-night stands. He hasn’t exactly had the chance to be adventurous and isn’t sure he’d even know where to start thinking about that. His own sexual knowledge is pretty much of the put peg A into slot B type and he finds porn kind of… boring. All fake moans and big boobs and dudes that are a little too waxed and oily.
“I think so?”
“Hmm..” She leans back, looking him over again. It’s another inspection, though this time she looks less like she wants to eat him and more like she’s considering his honesty. “Well, Sean seemed to think there was something here you’d like or he wouldn’t have brought you. He might be an idiot and a jerk but he has good instincts like that.”
“I wasn’t actually planning to play tonight anyway, so if you’d like I can be a sort of… tour guide for the night.” She offers. “You’ll have to follow some ground rules though.”
“Of course!” He agrees, probably a bit too fast.
“Good boy.” There’s a hint of that intensity in the toothy smile he receives at that answer. “There are some rules for the playrooms that everyone has to follow – there’s no touching without being invited, and tonight I’d recommend you abstain even if someone were to invite you to participate. That also means you aren’t allowed to interfere, even if you think something seems wrong, a lot of role-playing goes on and it’s usually not what it seems, understand? There’s a lot of experienced players here and a couple of dungeon masters watching out for everyone, if something really is bad going on one of them will stop it.”
He nods, though the idea that she’s worried he might see something he would mistake for… what? Rape or abuse maybe? is curbing his enthusiasm a bit. Maybe he won’t like this after all.
“I get the feeling you don’t know enough to know what your limits are yet so I want you to stay with me the whole time. If you see something that you don’t like just tell me and we’ll move on, okay?”
“Sure.”
She pauses, considering him for a long moment.
“I do have to ask… do you have any problems with same-sex couples?”
“That would be pretty hypocritical of me.” He admits.
“Oh?” She lifts an eyebrow and he realizes she thinks he means that he’s gay.
“Oh! Not me… I mean… I haven’t really thought about guys... that way…“ That blush is burning his face again and he wonders if he’s doomed to trip over his own tongue every five minutes for the rest of the night. “I like girls.” He blurts out.
“You don’t say.” She looks like she wants to laugh at him, but is very kindly refraining.
“I just meant… my Dads are.” He shrugs. “Well obviously since there’s two of them they’re gay. Uh…”
“You really are a treat.” She tells him, and he has no idea what to say to that so he decides to keep his mouth shut. It’s harder to stuff his foot in it that way. “You want to finish that beer before we head back?” She asks, nodding to the drink he’s had at most two sips of.
“Is it… okay if I don’t?” He asks. Alcohol when he’s nervous never seems to be a good combination.
“Of course.” She takes a last drink of her own and stands, offering him a hand. He takes it, hoping his palms aren’t too sweaty.
Her skin is soft and her hand feels tiny in his own.
“Come along then, Johnny.”
The unassuming door leads to a small corridor. There’s bathrooms along the right wall but Abigail bypasses them and leads him to the end where another door opens into a second part of the club.
Back here the friendly casual atmosphere is replaced with an all-black decor. He can hear the sounds of someone moaning nearby and in the distance is what sounds like the crack of a whip that makes him jump.
There’s no music and the lighting is low, making it hard to tell where the room starts and stops. Once his eyes start to adjust he realizes there are cubical-like partitions set up around the room, splitting what must usually be a dancefloor into several different areas.
He thinks he can see a couple fucking between a break in the dividers, just the hint of naked skin moving in a very familiar rhythm.
Abigail squeezes his hand and leads him forward, navigating the dividers with familiarity.
There is indeed a couple fucking as they round the first makeshift corner but it’s nothing like he expected. The woman is completely naked and tied face down to a strange padded narrow bench, her arms and legs tied to it with a intricate series of interlacing ropes. She’s blindfolded and there is some kind of round gag in her mouth that she’s moaning around.
The man fucking her is fully-clothed, his cock the only thing exposed while he takes her from behind. He watches as the man leans over to grab her hair, whispering something John can’t hear into her ear. It must be good because she groans loudly and then screams, thrashing in her bindings.
“He has a vibrator in her. He just turned it up.” Abigail whispers to him and if he looks closer John can see that the man is actually fucking into her ass with some purple device seated in her pussy, arching out from there to press against her clit.
The woman is gasping and sobbing, coming he realizes, and John stuffs a hand in his jeans pocket to try and discreetly adjust himself.
His pants are suddenly extremely uncomfortable.
“Hot isn’t it?” Abigail releases his hand to run her arm through his, leaning against him in a way that’s wholly distracting, her breast pushing into his side. “Doms with female Subs are so lucky – she’ll be able to come again almost immediately. I once saw a woman that had twenty orgasms before her Master was done with her.”
John makes a little strangled sound at that and Abigail chuckles at his side, drawing him away from the couple. The next few people they come across are tamer, a pair of women making out at a man’s feet, and then a small grouping listening to a man talk about knots.
He’s confused when they stop there but doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t understand much of what’s said – something about the different kinds of material and texture and a preferred brand of scissors for cutting them apart – but then another man appears, dressed only in boxer briefs and the first man sets to wrapping him in the rope.
It’s like the picture on Sean’s wall with intricate knots binding the man’s arms to his sides. The man tying the ropes is explaining something about knots and tension and checking for circulation but John isn’t really hearing him.
Instead, he’s focused on man being tied. He’s breathing deeply, muscles flexing occasionally as if to test the strength of the ropes. The bulge of his cock in his briefs has swollen, not quite hard but definitely interested. He moves easily, letting the other man guide him into a kneeling position, leaning just slightly towards the other when he steps away to retrieve more rope.
It’s sensual. The rope lines accent the man’s body, indenting his flesh in places and molding him into a shape that highlights his taunt stomach and strong pecs. The man tying him is surprisingly gentle, petting over the kneeling man’s skin before tying the ropes into place, running his hands through the man’s hair or along his shoulders whenever he has to step away.
“Rope isn’t really my specialty.” Abigail tells him quietly from his side. “But it’s lovely to look at.”
“Yeah.” He agrees.
They watch until the man is completely immobilized and then Abigail is tugging him away again.
A few dividers down, that whip cracks again, and John can feel his heart jump into his throat at the sound.
When they round the temporary wall, there is a man tied to some kind of crossed wooden frame, his arms and legs splayed. He’s bare chested but wearing low-slung pants. A woman dressed head to toe in latex stands behind him, a small whip held in her hand.
The lines of red crossing his back and shoulders suggest that they’ve been at this for a while.
The woman trails the tip of the whip over his bare skin, gently and the man twitches at the touch.
“Such a good boy for me.” She tells him, her voice firm and seductive. Loud enough John can make the words out clearly. “I think you can take more.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man agrees. His voice sounds raw and thick and John glances over to Abigail, who is watching him more than the display. She cocks an eyebrow and he swallows, turns back to watch.
“Five more and I’ll let you down.” She tells him, stepping back. “Count them for me.”
“One.” The man says and the whip cracks in the air, landing on his right side, painting a bright red welt. The man grunts and sways. “Two.” The whip lands on his left side this time, the mark mirroring the first. “Three.” The man lets out a sound like a sob, immediately followed by “Four!”
There’s a pause as he sags in his bindings, breathing heavily and the woman leans over him, fingers ghosting over the fresh marks, whispering something into his ear. John can’t make out the words but it sounds sweet and the man nods in response, getting his feet under him again.
“Five.”
The whip comes down again and he cries out, sounding as if something has been wrenched out of him. The woman is at his side in a moment, petting his torso and his hair, murmuring praise as she unshackles his arms. He sags into her and she draws him with her to a nearby bench, allowing him to curl up half in her lap. He’s shivering, breathes coming in hard pants but there’s a smile on his face like he’s just been given the best gift in the world.
“Too intense?” Abigail asks quietly and John realizes he’s holding his own breath.
“Yes? No?” He isn’t sure what to make of it. Other than the woman’s attire, there’s nothing overtly sexual about what he just watched but he feels wired and the only thing he can compare it to is that feeling when he’s been unable to enjoy any private time with his dick in too long. Like a general itch of want that isn’t quite full arousal, almost more a memory of it.
“Come on, let’s take a break.” She tugs him away from watching the two cuddle on the bench and that’s how John finds out there’s a bar down here. Sean is sat at one end talking to a busty blond woman and he perks up at their arrival.
“Abi! John! Didn’t I say this would all work out fine in the end?” He elbows the woman who just cuffs him over the head and hands him a stack of napkins. John guesses from the pile next to him he’s been tasked with folding them.
“You’re still an idiot, boy.” She tells him. “I cannot believe you thought bringing some poor newbie here with no warning was a good idea!”
“Hey, I apologized alright!” Sean protests.
“And you’ll keep apologizing until I decide you’re actually sorry.” She says, before turning away from him. “Sorry about him, Abigail.”
John sits beside Sean on one of the bar stools, Abigail taking his other side primly.
“If you need any help teaching him this lesson you let me know.” Abigail tells her, looking at Sean like he’s a bug on her shoe.
“Uh…” Sean blanches at that.
“I ought to let her you jackass.” The woman tells him.
“Karen… please… baby… you know I meant well!” Sean pleads and John looks between the two, wondering just what their relationship is. Karen just shakes her head and walks to the other end of the bar to help someone there. “Abi… Abigail… you wouldn’t really do that to me, yeah? Not poor little Sean? I’m a fragile flower, love!”
“And I’m sure you’d bruise just as pretty as one.” She agrees with a dangerous grin.
“Uh… so you… like… doing that?” John makes a vague gesture towards the couple with the whip from a few moments before.
“Sometimes.” She smiles and leans into his space. “Why? You want a little punishment yourself?”
John makes another of those incoherent noises that seem to be coming out a lot that evening. He’s positively terrified of being in that man’s shoes but he’s also still half hard and Abigail is really, really pretty. He can absolutely picture her in that latex get-up, whip in hand and telling him he’s a good boy and would he please just stand there and let her do very confusing things to him….
He’s lost the thread of this conversation entirely somehow.
“What?” He asks intelligently when she stands.
“I’m running to the lady's room, stay here and I’ll be back for you.” It’s not a question, and John just nods in agreement.
“Oh boy, you are gone.” Sean laughs beside him.
“Shut up!” He argues, swatting at the other man. “You could have told me what to expect!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sean waves him off. “But the look on your face, mate! I thought she was gonna eat you alive when she first laid eyes on ya.”
John had kind of thought that too.
“Anyway, you decided to stick around. Enjoying yourself?” Sean looks eager and John flushes, not at all sure what to tell him.
Sean has zero boundaries – has tried to foist questionable porn on John a few times since they’ve been neighbors and likes to loudly and graphically describe what he thinks about, and about doing to, actresses’ breasts when they watch movies together. Even so, John isn’t sure if he’s totally comfortable talking to him about this.
“I guess?” John tries. He isn’t sure if he’s exactly enjoying himself, seeing as he’s made a complete ass of himself no less than six times already, but he hasn’t been this turned on since he was sixteen and his dick thought walking up a flight of stairs was the hottest thing ever.
“Sure you do.” Sean wiggles his eyebrows in a way that shouldn’t seem lewd but somehow does.
“I hate you a lot right now.” John says, instead of arguing.
“I’m hurt, Johnny! I bring you here, hook you up with the hottest girl in da place and you hate me? What cruelty!”
“MacGuire!” Karen barks at him from across the bar. “Leave the boy alone!”
“Oh fine, spoil all me fun.” He grouses, slumping in his seat.
“You really should consider taking me up on that offer, Karen.” Abigail says, sliding back up next to John and tugging him off his barstool. He goes willingly, lets her maneuver him as she pleases. “Come on, there’s something happening over here I want you to see.”
She leads them into a different area of partitions, bringing him to a stop in front of a group of three, two men and a woman.
One of the men is tied, face up on what looks like a weightlifting bench. His arms are cuffed above his head with thick leather manacles and his legs are tied to either side of the bench with similar bands, his knees bent and legs splayed. He’s completely naked and hard.
The woman is kissing him while the man trails something that looks like a wheel with tiny spikes on it up his side and over his nipples. He twitches and moans with each pass, cock leaking against his stomach. His breath is erratic, panting as he tries to arch away from the wheel.
John can feel his own breathing increasing in tempo with the tied man’s.
The man trailing the wheel over his chest reaches down to give a firm tug at his cock and the man tries to thrust into the grasp but then jerks away just as quickly and John realizes there’s something tied to his balls, connecting them to the bench with a cord, tethering his hips down as surely as if they were actually tied down.
“They’ve been at this a while already.” Abigail’s voice is low and her eyes are tracing over the man that’s tied down with something like want. “I’ve seen them keep him like this for hours.” She says, tearing her eyes away to meet his. “Just on that edge, unable to come.”
John swallows, and he’s so hard suddenly that it almost hurts, cock trapped awkwardly in his pants.
“Would you like that, Johnny?” She whispers to him, fingernails tracing his arm. “If I tied you up and teased you for hours? I’m very good at it.”
John is pretty sure he actually whimpers at the idea, shifting helplessly to try and relieve the pressure on his dick.
The woman has lifted herself away from the tied man’s mouth and has moved to his cock, is licking at the head with the tinniest kitten-like flicks of her tongue while the other man has moved away to retrieve something from a bag. When he returns he moves between the man’s legs and slips something between them that’s dark.
The tied man arches and gasps, a drop of silvery pre-cum slipping from the head of his cock.
“You ever played with your ass, Johnny?” Abigail asks, “There’s so many nerves there.”
John manages to shake his head in the negative. He knows it’s a thing that some guys like but he’s never tried it. Suddenly he really wants to remedy that.
“Some men can come from prostate stimulation alone.” She continues. “I hear it’s especially intense to orgasm that way.”
The man on the bench is whining, abortedly trying to thrust up into the woman’s mouth, feeling the pull on his balls and jerking back, then seeming to forget himself and try it again. He’s begging, incoherent pleas for mercy as tears slip down the sides of his face.
It may be the hottest thing John’s ever seen.
Abruptly the woman pulls away, her hand squeezing the man’s cock tightly as he cries out, shaking and whining but somehow not coming even though his cock twitches violently as if it wants to. A single pearl of white beads up at the head and rolls down the shaft and John thinks he might be in danger of coming in his own pants, completely untouched.
“You can touch yourself if you want to, precious.” Abigail whispers to him and he realizes she is barely watching the threesome now, her eyes intent on his face. “Or maybe you don’t even need to?” Her arm snakes around his waist, massaging at his hip. It’s not really anywhere erotic that she’s touching him, but the movement pulls on the fabric of his jeans, tightening and loosening them over his crotch. “Is this okay, John?”
“Y… yes.” He manages somehow.
“Good boy.” She uses her other hand to turn his face back to the threesome. “Watch them.” It’s definitely an order.
The man has some kind of whip-like thing in his hand now – a handle with dozens of strips of leather tailing off of it. It looks soft but when he swings it, lands the strips across the bound man’s chest and nipples it makes a surprisingly loud smack.
“It’s a flogger.” Abigail tells him, hand still slowly massaging his side. “He’s being very gentle with it – used like this it leaves the skin feeling so sensitive.”
The man works the flogger down the other’s torso, just letting the tips brush the other man’s cock before working back up the other side. Then he leans down to whisper something in his ear and the tied man’s begging starts up in earnest again.
John feels like he’s strung tight as a bow, his own cock twitching in time with the man tied to the bench.
The flogger makes its way down his body again, slowly, and John sees the woman unclipping the tether from his balls as it moves downward… downward…
With one last smack, it lands fully on the man’s cock and he screams, arches, and comes, shooting all over his torso.
Abigail grips his torso, tugging on John’s beltloop hard as it happens, dragging the denim tight over his erection and John gasps, shocked as he feels his own orgasm stutter through him, legs going weak and unsteady.
Abigail is a surprisingly strong support against him, her lips brushing over his collarbone as he sags against her.
“So pretty, Johnny.” She whispers, shocking another twitch from his cock. “You have no idea how good you look like this.”
He’s breathing hard like he’s just run a marathon and he feels stunned.
“I… uh… sorry.” He apologizes and she chuckles, pulls him down into something like a hug.
“Oh, sugar, you have nothing to be sorry for.”