Sin-D laughed. “Are you kidding? Drag that baby boy to my office. We’ll set him up good.”
Rae pulled Peter off the stool and around the back of the bar to a doorway. The three of them stepped inside, and Peter whistled.
“She wasn’t kidding,” he said.
The walls were completely covered with an octopus tangle of studded leather belts, codpieces, bras and more. In the corner a box overflowed with rubber phalluses and various colored vibrators. A couch was tucked against the far wall, and a plastic woman rested there, her mouth permanently open and painted exaggeratedly red.
“Welcome to the toy box,” Sin-D said. “I think I know just what you need.” She walked over to one wall and fingered several long belted devices that hung from a hook. “You a 36 waist,” she asked. “Or a 38?”
“Try a 36,” he said. “You’re good.”
“You have no idea,” she said. “Rae, strip him.”
Rae smiled and unbuttoned Peter’s shirt. There was a faint look of alarm in his eyes, but she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “This is what you’ve wanted,” she said. “Enjoy it.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. Meanwhile, having exposed a bushy-haired chest, Rae continued and undid his belt, then popped the button on his jeans. She felt his body shiver as she pulled them down and helped him step out of the pant legs. His gasp was audible when she pulled his briefs down, letting his already half-hard cock flop out to dangle exposed.
Rae smiled at that. Kneeling, she put her hands on his hips and moved her lips up the shaft of his penis, instantly turning it hard as rock. It pointed to the ceiling, and his breath came faster. Rae grinned at the easy effect a few touches and nakedness could have on a man. She pursed her lips and pressed them to the head of his cock in a wet, puffy kiss before she opened her lips and let him slip inside her mouth, wetting him gently and then pulling back.
“All right,” Sin-D interrupted. “None of that yet. Let’s make him a slave and earn that release, huh?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Rae agreed and pulled her mouth away, pressing wet lips to Peter’s mouth for just a moment.
“Let’s see if we can cram that big ol’ dick into this little pouch,” Sin-D said. “And no, you making it slippery didn’t help with that.”
Moments later, they walked Peter out to the Blue Room again, but now, his outfit nearly matched Rae’s. A small leather codpiece held his manhood in, and twin leather straps crisscrossed his chest in an X. They connected to an oval ring in the center of his chest and then strapped across his shoulders to do the same X trick across his back.
A pair of black leather combat boots completed the look.
“I feel like a character in a bad gay porno shoot,” he murmured.
Sin-D giggled, and Rae pointed out, “This is what you wanted.”
He nodded, clearly embarrassed to vocally admit it.
“I think it’s time to introduce you to the racks,” Rae said. “You need a good spanking!”
Peter’s smile brightened.
“Come with me, slave,” Rae said and pulled him by the ring on his chest across the club.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They say the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions, but Mark had the best intentions, and the road was proving very difficult to find. The bondage night had proven a bust, though he had to wonder about Selena showing up again out of nowhere. It creeped him out a bit…as if she was following him. Maybe she was acting as a spy for NightWhere.
Either way, he hadn’t gotten anything from her. He stared at her card where it sat on the kitchen counter. He wasn’t going to be calling her anytime soon. Whatever she wanted, it had nothing to do with taking him back to NightWhere.
Mark walked through his empty house and felt lonelier than he ever had before in his life. He picked up the postcard that he’d found in one of the abandoned NightWhere locations and stared at it again.
No lurid photos. No other indication of any kind about what it meant. But as he stared at the seemingly obscure phrase, he noticed that there was something more to the card that he hadn’t seen before. Faint grey lettering was just barely visible along its edge. Not much of a promotional gambit-most people would never see it. But it was there: “www.nightwhere.666”.
Mark frowned. Dot-com, sure, but there was no web suffix of.666 that he’d ever heard of. He took the card to his computer and launched an Internet browser. As soon as it loaded his home page, he typed “www.nightwhere.666” in the web address window. He bet that he’d end up with some “No Such Page” style message, but instead, his computer screen suddenly turned black.
Slowly, like a movie animation, the word
Below the logo, a headline also appeared:
Mark gasped.
Beneath the headline, was a photo of a man’s face. The very same face he saw in the mirror every morning. There was no question; this was no “that guy looks like me” scene.
The photo was of Mark, grinning full face at the camera.
“Holy shit.”
Beneath the photo it said:
“What the fuck!” Mark sat back in his office chair and stared at his own mug shot staring back at him from the computer screen. His chest felt like ice. How could they do this to him?
He didn’t ask why…he knew why. Because he hadn’t played along. He had tried to pull Rae away from NightWhere, and when she’d gone anyway, he’d tried to find her.
But, Jesus…if this was on the Internet, how long would it be before police were at his door, ready to pull him in for questioning?
Probably not too long, he speculated.
“They’ve ruined me,” he whispered to the empty room. “First they took my wife, and now they want to take what’s left of my life too?”
Mark clicked the X with a sharp finger snap to the mouse and closed the browser. Then he sat back and took a deep breath.
He had to find Rae. For his own sake now, as well as her own.
He stood up and went into the bedroom to change out of his sweatpants and into his jeans. It was after 11:00
