Page 85 of Red's Peril: Part 1

“You thought it was a good fuckin’ idea,” Rope turns on him. “You can’t back out now.”

“I said—”

I slap my hands down. “Whether it’s you Rope, or you, Cuff, spit it out. I’m too busy for fuckin’ games.”

Cuff snorts. “I’ll remember you said that later.”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve got five minutes,” I warn them.

Rope sits forward and clasps his hands. “You know we belong to a BDSM club in town?” It’s a rhetorical question. We all do. Knowing that, he assumes my response and continues, “You ever been to one, Prez?”

“I can honestly say I have not.” Sure, I’ve toyed with handcuffs and tied a girl up once in a while, but that’s the extent of it. Girls seem to like it, and I see nothing to complain about when having someone at my mercy.

“We’d like you to come with us. As our guest,” Rope spits out fast.

“Whoa.” I hold up my hands. “Much as I love you, Brothers, I’m not having your hands near my dick.”

Cuff snorts and turns to Rope. “He thinks we want him to be our submissive.” He turns to me and in a very gay mock, half sings, “Sorry, Prez, you’re not our type.” He adds a limp hand gesture in a flourish.

Despite myself, I laugh. If it’s tinged with relief, then I’m keeping it quiet. All we know is that Rope and Cuff are quite deviant types.

“Got a request to make of you, Prez.”

“I think you’ve already made it. And the answer is no. I don’t want to go to a sex club.”

Rope rolls his eyes. “That wasn’t our request. But before we put that on the table, we want you to see some things for yourself first.”

“Like you beating on Cuff?” I shudder slightly. “No thank you.”

“Oh, but Prez, I like it so much.” Cuff again uses his singsong voice.

Rope, however, looks at him sternly. “Will you be fuckin’ serious for once or shut the fuck up?” When Cuff mimes zipping his lips, Rope sighs and again fixes me in his sights. “There’ll be no guy-on-guy action from us, but there’s some shit we want you to consider. And, I think, you might enjoy it.”

Going to a sex club is not a thing I’ve contemplated in my life. To my mind, it’s like going to a brothel, and with the sweet butts on tap, why should I pay for it? But what’s life if not to have a few experiences?

I point to Rope. “If I come, it’s our secret.” I’m not going to be the butt of the joke with brothers yanking my chain about how I spend my free time. “And you’re not putting me in a leather harness and dragging me around on a lead.”

Rope and Cuff high five each other, while I look on with a suspicious frown.

Later that night, I’m rethinking my hasty decision as the club’s SUV draws up in a parking lot next to a discreet building. Instead of the glaring signs that decorate most parts of Vegas, there’s barely any indication outside that this is actually a business.

As we enter through the doorway, it’s into a smart reception area. Rope steps forward and signs in himself and Cuff, and then introduces me as a guest to the receptionist. I feel slightly uneasy even if the dude behind the desk doesn’t seem to think anything of it. Soon, I’m sporting a white wristband around my wrist.

“Brothers?” I hold it up once we’re out of earshot.

“Newbie,” Rope explains.

“This better not fucking suggest I’m available,” I rasp, my stare promising sudden and painful death if they mislead me.

Cuff snorts. “Come on, this way.”

They’re both carrying bags I notice. The first room we enter is a posh men’s changing area. I avert my eyes from the freely swinging dick I see as one man’s already in the midst of changing. Then wait while Rope and Cuff swap their jeans for leather pants and waistcoats hanging open leaving their chests bare, then both tie back their hair with leather thongs.

“Can you at least loose the shirt, Red?”

And walk around half naked? I shrug, well, why not? When in Rome and all that. At least I can keep my jeans on. I slip off my t-shirt, not afraid to show off the hard worked for six-pack under it. At least it’s a chance to show off my tats.

I have to admit, I enjoy the next few hours. Mostly I stand on the sidelines, watching my brothers tie various victims, submissives they call them, on to different equipment. I listen as they explain the Dom/sub relationship to me and see it at work when the girls seem to get lost in their heads. I even pick up a flogger and get a lesson on using it. The girl I’m working over seems to love it.Would Cheryl have liked it?

---