Asylum

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

June 2018

Holy. s**t.

After promising Mike that I would “be a good pup,” whatever that meant, I was left on my own to explore the club. As I emerged from the long dark entry hallway, I felt like I had appeared in some sort of twisted carnival of my dreams. Come one, come all, for the ride of your life.

Music thrummed loudly all around, and everywhere I looked, it was like I got my own personal peep show. Porn had nothin’ on this place. A beautiful couple appeared to be setting up onstage for some sort of demonstration involving a Saint Andrew’s cross and hot wax. I could make out the sub’s excitement from the rise and fall of his bare golden chest as it glistened with perspiration.

To my right, a tall lanky middle-aged man knelt between the legs of a silver fox who was groaning and forcing the kneeling man’s head down over his impressive d**k.

“That’s it, boy. All the way down.”

The older Dom caught me looking and smirked. I tried not to blush as I ducked my head and kept walking. I fingered the purple plastic collar I was given at the front door. It advertised that I was a sub and looking to play, but only after a proper negotiation. The friendly young man who’d given it to me, Javier, had assured me that everyone here respected the color codes. If I had chosen a red collar, that would have announced that I was a sub looking to play, anything goes, safeword defaulted to “red.” I didn’t think I was quite that ready yet.

In the shadows along the back wall, I could see the rise and fall of a naked sub riding his Dom, head tilted back in ecstasy. I felt myself stiffen in my ripped jeans and felt decidedly overdressed for the occasion. God, this place was awesome. That is, it was awesome until I suddenly found my view contaminated by a familiar figure.

“Go away, Vern.”

Vern scowled at me and crossed his arms over his plaid flannel-covered chest. Talk about looking out of place. I couldn’t tell you why he had followed me into this club, of all places.

Well, as soon as my pill kicked in, I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with him. I turned my back on him and headed for the bar. I grabbed the only open seat and took a deep breath, calming myself.

“What’ll ya have, hon?” the cute bartender asked. “We only serve water and juice for those that are playing.” He gave me a wink to smooth over any possible disappointment I might have from hearing the rules.

“Uh, ice water, thanks.” I started scanning the room for single Doms. Most folks already looked paired off.

“You looking for someone to play with?” asked a voice next to me. I turned to check out the man who had asked, and gratefully downed half the glass of ice water that appeared by my hand. Holy Mother of God.

The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were that light blue, like a Husky’s, and looked right through me like they could spy secrets I didn’t even know I was holding. They were even more disconcerting alongside his dark wavy hair.

“That an offer?”

“Perhaps.” He smiled. And, oh, what a beautiful smile it was. “Shall we grab a table and discuss what you’re looking for?”

I nodded and followed him like a puppy to a nearby table for two. Ah hah! The term “pup” suddenly made a lot more sense. I must have chuckled out loud.

“Did I miss the joke?”

Thankfully, he seemed more amused than annoyed as he took his seat and leaned back, assessing me. I just shook my head.

“I’m Justin.”

“Devon.” He held out his hand to shake mine but didn’t let go once our grips met. He held my hand firmly, but not overly so. My pulse sped up as I felt his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

As I considered my next flirty response, I noticed Vern had taken up his glowering stance just behind Devon’s right shoulder, right in my eyeline. Any closer and he would have been sitting on the guy’s shoulders. Damn it. He was really cramping my style. And there was another dude standing behind Devon’s left shoulder, looking like he really wanted to speak with him. But of course, gorgeous Devon had no clue that we had a couple of unwelcome voyeurs.

Being able to see ghosts was a pain in the ass sometimes. Seriously. Ghosts have no concept of boundaries. I mean, come on. I was trying to get laid here. And, of course, if I mentioned the word “ghost” to my potential date, I’d likely find myself being fitted for a straitjacket.

Normally they left me alone, but from time to time they realized I could see them and would pester the f**k out of me until I did whatever they wanted me to do. Generally, that involved passing on messages to loved ones, like that show Ghost Whisperer. That’s probably what the dude standing behind Devon wanted. They actually looked alike, so they were probably related. Cousins maybe, perhaps brothers.

But Vern, well, Vern I had yet to figure out. He had first shown up about six months ago, but was a man of few words. Actually, he was a man of no words. Sometimes ghosts could actually talk a bit once they conjured up the energy, but not this old codger. The only reason I knew his name was Vern was because he rotated outfits depending on his mood, and one of his other favorites was a set of dirty navy-blue coveralls with the name Vern stitched on a patch over the left chest.

He wasn’t the same as other ghosts I’d met. He didn’t seem anxious for me to figure out some nebulous message. In fact, all he did was show up at random times and give me creepy looks. If I wasn’t experienced in dealing with spirits at this point, he definitely would have freaked me out. But, frankly, I was just annoyed. The only thing I could do until my pill kicked in, which would hopefully force him and the other dude to disappear from sight, was to ignore him. Otherwise, I’d lose my chance with this blue-eyed hottie before we had even started.

“Just to confirm, your collar is purple, yes?”

The question surprised me.

“You can’t tell?”

“Not for sure. I’m color blind.”

“Oh wow. Which colors can’t you see?” I asked, knowing that there were many variations of color blindness. I’d read up on it when I’d heard that Eddie Redmayne is color blind. Funny how having a crush on someone brought you to the most unexpected learning experiences sometimes.

“Just red. Well, red and anything with red in it.”

“Protanopia.” I nodded. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A form of dichromatism in which the subject can only perceive light wavelengths from 400 to 650 nanometers, instead of the usual 700 nanometers, affecting about one percent of males.” At that he looked nonplussed. “Bit of a hazard when most people’s safewords are red.” I smirked.

I loved the small crinkles on either side of his eyes as he laughed.

“I suppose it is at that. And I’m hopeless when it comes to the pride flag.”

“That would be a bummer,” I mused.

“What?”

“Never having seen a rainbow.”

He tilted his head, as if trying to figure me out. Good luck, dude.

“Can’t miss what you’ve never seen.”

I cranked up my flirty smile.

“I dunno, tonight’s the first time I’ve seen you, but I could swear I was missing you my whole life.”

To that, he laughed again.

“Okay, pup. You can dial down the flattery. I’m already intrigued.” He trailed a finger up my arm and traced my flower-of-life tattoo. “So…purple, yes?”

I closed my eyes with a delighted shiver and nodded, sucking on my lip ring. Shutting my eyelids served the dual purpose of allowing me to focus on his touch and avoid Vern’s glare. Devon’s hands were soft, as if he worked an office job. I wondered how delicious it would feel to experience the bite of pain they could undoubtedly cause.

“Tell me what you like, boy.”

My eyes flittered back open and I met his hungry stare as I pondered. That was a great question. If only I knew. It’s not like life had left me with a lot of time to figure it out. Before I had a chance to answer, the tallest man I’d ever seen walked up to our table and inquired if we needed anything.

“We’re good, Frank, thank you,” Devon replied without breaking eye contact with me.

“Holy Watusis,” I mumbled, staring distractedly after the giant figure. At Devon’s puzzled expression, I explained. “The Watusis tribe of Burundi and Rwanda are the tallest tribe in the world, with most men reaching heights of seven feet tall or more. At least, they were back in 2012. I suppose that could have changed since then.”

Devon stared at me for a long moment, still looking like he was trying to solve the puzzle that was me. I cursed internally. Always letting my mouth get away from me. And not in a fun way.

“Head’s full of useless facts.” I shrugged. At this he smiled and looked intrigued.

“Like what?”

“Did you know that twenty-three percent of all photocopier faults worldwide are caused by people sitting on them and photocopying their butts?”

That made Devon laugh out loud.

“Seriously?”

I shrugged again.

“That’s what I read online. Might be true.” I smirked, leaned forward, and dropped the pitch of my voice. “A pig’s orgasm lasts thirty minutes. Do you think you could keep me going for that long?” I delighted in watching his pupils dilate.

“Challenge accepted, boy,” he growled and stood, pulling me up and holding steadfast to my hand as he led us across the room toward an archway that I had not noticed when I’d first entered the club. It opened to a set of stairs that led both up and down. Devon chose up, and I allowed myself to be tugged along at a brisk pace up the stairs and down a long hallway with many doors. Some doors housed glass windows to allow others to peep inside. Some doors were simply propped open, as if to invite others to join. I didn’t get much of a chance to investigate the goings on in the other rooms as Devon swiped a keycard to open one of the solid no-peep doors and pulled me inside.

Immediately after he shut the door, he pushed me up against it and crushed my lips with his own. I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my throat. I hadn’t expected things to progress this quickly, but I wasn’t opposed. Neither was my c**k, which delighted at the press of his body against it. However, it ended almost as immediately as it had begun. He stepped away, clearly as worked up as I was, and let me flounder for a moment in the absence of his touch.

As I caught my breath, I took in the room around me. Honestly, I was a little disappointed that it looked not that different than a regular hotel room. A large wooden armoire stood against the wall to the right. A full-size bed in a metal frame took up much of the room, sticking out from the center of the wall straight ahead. You wouldn’t find rubber sheets in your average hotel, though.

“Your safewords?” Devon asked in a clipped, no-nonsense tone that I felt compelled to respond to quickly, even though I had never decided on or had a need for safewords. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Red and, uh, yellow.”

“Red and yellow, what?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

“You will address me as Sir while we are in session.”

“Oh!” Duh! I really should have known that already. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t read smut or watch porn whenever I could manage. “Red and yellow, Sir.” I lowered my eyes and could tell that he liked that as I caught the smirk on his lips.

“Strip,” he ordered.

At that moment, I noticed that his ghostly companion had joined us in the room. Thankfully, Vern had chosen to steer clear, but one unwanted guest was enough to make me pause.

“Problem, boy?”

Did I want to tell him the truth? No, not really. What I really, really, really, really wanted was to get spanked and laid. I decided to pretend as if everything was just peachy. And also, I could finally feel the beginnings of a tingle in my fingers and toes that meant my happy little pill would be kicking in soon, and then my second sight would hopefully retreat for a blessed few hours.

“No, Sir!” I quickly undressed, carefully folded my clothes, and set them on a nearby chair. Devon glanced at the neatly stacked pile and nodded as if it met with his approval. I would hope so. If there’s one thing I learned in being shuffled from foster home to foster home, it was how to keep tidy enough to satisfy the most exacting standards.

Standing in just my briefs, which I would admit showed off my ass superbly, I shifted from foot to foot, not sure what to do next. I didn’t have to wonder for long.

“When I say strip, I mean everything, Justin. Get rid of those briefs and then lie down in the middle of the bed, faceup.”

My cheeks burned at undressing in front of the man I had just met, and his clingy specter, but I did it anyway. As I settled in the middle of the bed as he had ordered, Devon opened the armoire, and my pulse skyrocketed at the assortment of toys and ties that hung within.

“Are you comfortable with bondage?”

I thought about that for a moment. On one hand, my libido was thrilled at the idea. On the other, my prefrontal cortex was pestering me with warnings about ‘stranger danger.’ Devon must have sensed my hesitation.

“Are you not turned on by it, or is it a safety concern?” he asked calmly, like my answer would not fuss him either way. That inspired my honesty.

“The safety thing,” I admitted.

“That’s fair. You may not be aware, but each of these playrooms has a nonrecorded video camera that is monitored live by discreet staff of the club, to ensure safewords and subs’ interests are protected.” He gestured to a camera nestled in the far corner, where the ceiling met two of the walls. I hadn’t noticed that either. Jeeze, I was batting a thousand tonight in the unobservant category. Devon raised a hand in greeting toward it, and a red light on the camera blinked in reply.

Devon picked up a phone on the nightstand and dialed zero.

“Hello, yes, this is room 224. Who’s this?…Hey Scott!…Yes, all is well. We have a new sub here, Justin, who’s learning how we operate. We’re planning a bondage scene, and I will not be gagging him. I’d like to put him on the phone so that you can explain our rules to him…Thanks, Scott.” Devon handed me the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi Justin, this is Scott in club Security. Is all well with you?” The deep voice was calm, friendly, and professional.

“Umm…yeah.” I felt even more self-conscious in my nakedness and made an attempt at covering myself with my hand. Then I heard Scott chuckle and felt kind of stupid.

“No worries, lad. I’ve seen more than you can dream about. We’re here for your safety. If at any point you want the scene to end, just say your safewords. I have noted that this evening your safewords are ‘red’ to stop, ‘yellow’ to slow down. Is that correct?”

“Y-yes. That’s right.”

I didn’t know if it was my pill, but I felt as if I had been plunged down the rabbit hole into Wonderland.

“And if at any point you are unable to speak, all you need do is gesture a thumbs down at the camera and we’ll come to assist you. Please repeat so that I know you understand.”

“So, if I say my safewords and they’re not respected, or if I give a thumbs down, you’ll come into the room and help me.”

“You got it, Justin! Have fun!” And then I heard the phone click as he hung up. I handed it back to Devon.

“So…are we good for a little rope work?” He tilted my head up and gave me a peck on the lips that left me wanting more. Grateful at the effort he had made so far to put me at ease, I nodded and lay back down on the bed.

Devon methodically tied each of my limbs to the bedposts, checking to ensure the ropes weren’t cutting off my circulation. As he wrapped and secured each rope, I watched my c**k get harder and harder until it was pointing straight up, as if begging for attention. The red rope was soft, but bit deliciously when I tugged to test its strength.

“Ooo…somebody likes that.” Devon stared appreciatively at my hardness and then at the flush that had risen on my chest and cheeks. “Hrm…now, what shall we use to play.” I craned my neck to see what Devon was selecting from the armoire. Unfortunately, that also put his ghost right in my line of sight. Even though I was feeling pretty buzzed already from my pill, and perhaps being tied up, I could still see him.

Shit. He noticed I could see him. No! This part always sucked. As soon as they knew I could see them, they would not relent until I helped them with whatever kept them earthbound. He must have been recently passed because he could not yet manage to speak. Regardless, I could see his eyes pleading and his mouth move in a clear please. I shut my eyes and swore internally. My erection flagged as I tried to figure out what to do.

Devon turned around, with a crop in his hand and a devilish smile on his face that quickly dwindled as he saw my sudden change in demeanor, not to mention my lack of arousal.

“What’s wrong? Are the ropes too tight?” Without waiting for an answer, he began to check them.

“No…” I had no idea what to say. f**k. The pill was starting to kick in harder, and the ghost, whoever he was, began to waver. But the damage had been done. I closed my eyes again and sighed. “Yellow.”

“Would you like me to untie you?” Devon looked concerned.

“Not really, but I think it’s for the best,” I grumbled.

With a few quick strategic tugs, my arms and legs were freed from the bed. Then Devon carefully unwound the ropes from my wrists and ankles. As he checked the circulation in my hands, I ached over what to say, the look of confusion on his face riddling me with guilt.

“I’m sorry…” I started, but still wasn’t sure what to say next. My heart raced and I felt sweat start to cool my skin. I shivered and curled in on myself. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I took that pill. Echoes of the ropes’ grip tingled over my appendages, feeling at once wonderful and terrible: wonderful physical sensations, but a terrible tease for what would not be, at least not tonight.

“What happened?” Devon perched stiffly on the edge of the bed. Now that my safety was taken care of, I could tell that he was pulling away and distancing himself.

“I…” I sighed and looked around, unable to find or see the ghost anymore. “Damn it,” I said aloud.

“Was this your first time playing?”

I tried not to wince at the past tense “was” in his question. A dwindling part of me still held some small glimmer of hope that the night might ultimately be salvageable.

“Yes.” At his look of frustration heavenwards, I continued quickly. “But the ropes weren’t the problem. I loved them, actually.”

“Then what was the problem?”

Okay, this can’t get much worse, my drug-addled mind thought. Famous last words.

“The truth is that you have a ghost following you around, and he was very distracting.”

Devon stared at me for a long moment. I squirmed under his assessment. He reached up and brushed a hand across my forehead and down the side of my face. I shivered at the delightful sensation, taking it as a caress, which gave me hope. But then I watched as he looked at my sweat on his fingers for a moment and then leaned in closer to stare into my eyes.

“Your pupils are dilated. What are you on?” I could see his jaw clench as he waited for my response.

“I’m not hallucinating. You are being haunted, Devon.”

“What. Are. You. On?” he demanded. I sighed.

“Molly,” I admitted. At least that’s what I’d originally thought. It didn’t feel the same tonight as the one other time I’d tried it, but that was beside the point. I rushed on as he stood up and reached for my clothes. “But I’m telling you, this is real. Some dude is following you around and wants me to give you some sort of message.”

“Get dressed.” He tossed my clothes at me, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Please believe me,” I said as I scrambled to pull on my underwear. “He was standing behind you out at the table we were sitting at, and then he came into the room with us. He kind of looks like you. Do you have a relative that recently died?”

I was shocked at the pain and outrage that suddenly flared in Devon’s eyes.

“Get the f**k out.”

“Hold on a second.” I held up a hand, as if to fend off his anger while I used my other to tug on my shoes—which was a lot harder than it sounded, with the drug messing with my equilibrium. As I stumbled, Devon scoffed at me. “He’s not going to leave me alone until I pass along his message.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and scowled.

“And what’s the message?”

I flushed.

“Well…I don’t know yet. He wasn’t able to get it out before the drug kicked in and he disappeared.”

“Get the f**k out,” he said for the second time. This time he stalked to the door and opened it. “If you don’t leave, I’ll call for security.”

Feeling rejected and humiliated, I hurried past him, not looking back, lest he see the tears that threatened. I hurried down the stairs and through the club, pushing out the door to the alley where I had once stood so ready for a night of titillation. About where Mike had stood, I fell to my knees and threw up. The smell of my own vomit, coupled with the alley smell, made me even more nauseous.

Of course, the drugs were in full swing now. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. The white and beige of one of Mike’s discarded cigarette butts looked abnormally bright in the dim alley. The tears I had been fighting back finally spilled onto my cheeks. The gritty pavement bit into my palms as I tried to hold myself up from just giving in and curling into a ball.