Beau
My body is wrecked in the best way possible. I’m sore, of course, but it’s like the soreness after her punishment. I wear it like a badge of honor. The pain is well worth it, and I would gladly endure it again.
Staring down at her while she sleeps, I replay the last few hours and then the last few weeks. How the fuck did I get here? I can’t believe I just did that. If you told me two months ago I’d be getting railed by anyone, let alone my dad’s co-worker at Salacious on his wedding day, I’d tell you that you smoked a bad batch.
But it wasn’t really a slow transition to this point, was it? It was more like a deep dive, and I’m clearly the one who jumped. And I gotta say…I’m pretty happy with where I’ve landed. Having the best sex of my life, giving my partner the best sex of hers, all while being a good fucking boyfriend for once. Maggie makes it all so easy, though.
After a few minutes, I start to grow restless. She’s so peaceful and I don’t want to wake her up. But I also can’t just sit in this room either. It’s two in the morning, and I’ve never been more awake.
A bad idea brews in my mind. I’m definitely going to be punished for this, but I can’t help myself. I mean…all of the people I know that my dad works with are probably home asleep or drunk off their asses, definitely not here. No one would recognize me. So why can’t I peek around a little bit?
Quietly pulling my clothes back on, skipping the jacket, so I’m only in the now wrinkled white shirt and black pants, I quickly roll up the sleeves, button it halfway and tuck in the messy bottom. It’s good enough to blend in, I hope.
I have to take Maggie’s keycard to get back into the room, something else I’ll surely get punished for. Once I have it, I delicately open the door and slide out into the dark hallway, without waking her. I’m a dead man when she wakes up, so I guess it’s a good thing I love punishment so much.
I am a brat, after all. Aren’t I?
I don’t even know anymore. I’ve been so good lately, and I sort of miss the way it felt that night to purposefully disobey her. I loved the thrill of it. Maybe my penance will be unlimited orgasms again. Can’t complain too much about that.
The hallway only has three doors down one side, ours being the first. Instead of heading back toward the service stairwell that she brought me up, I head in the other direction. It brings me out into a bar area on the second floor. There’s a bartender and a few people mingling around private tables.
They’re not openly screwing like they were behind that black curtain. That was a real eye-opener, and I surprised myself a little with how much I didn’t hate it. I reserved so much judgment for this place, but now that I see it, I feel differently.
Hell, maybe I have been corrupted. Maybe this is just how you feel when you’ve been brainwashed by deviants, as my mother would put it, but you don’t see me complaining. Sort of feels like the opposite of brainwashing, if you ask me.
The second-floor bar has a balcony that overlooks the bottom floor, which I recognize from our nights here during the masquerade parties. It’s not as dark tonight and no one is wearing masks. They’re just meandering through the space, and no one looks ashamed or embarrassed that they’re all here to be kinky, to have sex and to get off.
There’s another bar down there that Maggie would never let me get close to, probably because we would be recognized, but again…the bartender doesn’t look familiar to me, so I shouldn’t look familiar to him. I also notice another doorway on the other side, this one guarded by a red rope and a mean-looking bouncer.
Deciding to try my luck, I walk down the stairs and across the large space, glancing up at the stage where a DJ is playing and women are dancing in cages. Once I reach the red rope, I duck my head a little, still paranoid that someone is going to point out that the owner’s son has been smuggled into the club and should definitely not be here. Instead, he simply nods his head and lifts the barrier, gesturing for me to enter.