by Robin Gideon
Evan never went out with him again, and though the man’s name was now forgotten, Evan had never forgotten how delicious it was to savor fresh-baked lobster smothered in butter.
The rarer the pleasure, the more intense the memory.
“How is it?” Adam asked. Evan’s eyes were closed at the time as he chewed slowly on the succulent lobster.
Evan swallowed, then took a small sip of wine that Adam had said would guarantee to enhance the flavor of the meal. It did.
“I feel guilty,” Evan said after several seconds.
“Why?” Adam asked, leaning closer to Evan in the booth. “You’ve done nothing to feel guilty for.”
“Poor boys like me aren’t supposed to eat meals like this,” Evan said.
He was partly being theatrical, but he was also being honest about the way he felt. He could only guess what such a meal would cost, and the fact was, he was frightened to know. All he knew with certainty was that he could never afford it.
It’s a guilty pleasure, he thought, but don’t let guilt take away the pleasure.
With those thoughts as his guide, Evan tried the New York strip, discovered it needed just a little salt and pepper, and several drops of melted butter, to achieve total taste perfection…and then proceeded to enjoy the most delicious meal of his life.
* * * *
Adam watched as Evan slowly, carefully, deliberately, savored and then devoured everything on his plate. The lobster and steak went down, first this and then that, until both were gone. The baked potato, smothered in melted butter, disappeared slowly. The peas were the last to go, though Adam noted that there wasn’t so much as a hint of green in the small, round bowl when Evan had decided that he’d had enough.
Evan glanced around at the other men in the booth, and the expression on his face suggested he was at least a little embarrassed.
“That was the best meal I’ve ever had in my entire life,” Evan said quietly. “Thank you.”
I like being appreciated, Adam thought as he looked at the young man. My God, he’s lovely to look at.
Adam understood that, with little effort, he could foist himself upon Evan. The young man was too young, too inexperienced, too unschooled in the ways of the wealthy, for him to have any chance of resisting Adam’s advances. But, now that he knew that Evan wanted into his own private, erotic inner circle, Adam had to be a bit more wary, more cautious. The number of young men who wanted to get their hooks into him was legion.
The waiter came by. When he made eye contact with Adam, there was a slight smile curling his lips that might have been a romantic smile. Adam couldn’t remember the young man’s name, though he did remember how exquisitely he sucked cock. If there was ever an advantage to being a billionaire, it was eating steak while getting a blow job, and coming in a handsome young man’s mouth when, a moment later, one takes a sip of vintage Tottinger’s champagne that had been chilled to precisely forty-seven degrees Fahrenheit.
Staggering, limitless wealth did convey more than just a few pleasant privileges.
Jared said to Adam, “Why don’t you explain to Evan why you’ve brought him here? I’m sure he’s curious.” Jared reached over the table and put his hand over Evan’s. “Remember, three years ago I was an administrative assistant intern. It’s something for you to think about. That’s all I’m saying.”
Adam was a little annoyed at Jared. He was still trying to figure out if Evan could fit into the family until that Adam had created with Michael and Jared, and he didn’t like being nudged in a direction that he wasn’t certain he wanted to go. The idea that Jared was a sub who as often as not gave the orders wasn’t something that rested easily on Adam’s broad, Master Dom shoulders.
“This table runs through the side divider,” Adam said, keeping his voice low as he spoke directly to Evan. Michael and Jared were already well-versed regarding the amenities of Club Rendezvous. “It’s a single, solid piece of oak. It runs from this side of the divider to the other. And because it is supported by the divider, there are no need for legs.” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “That means that there’s not much getting in the way of someone getting beneath the table, which can have rather pleasant advantages.”
Adam watched as the color rose in Evan’s face. It started with his cheeks, but then quickly went to his temples, then his throat. The implications were very clear on why the booths were designed the way they were.
“And as for this club, there are three levels of membership. Actually, there are four, though most members don’t know that. There’s the Bronze Level, which allows members access to Club Rendezvous, where we are right now. Literally hundreds of relationships have been repaired right here in this room—most often with one of the men sitting quietly, perhaps right where I am now, while his lover is on his knees beneath a rather well-designed piece of furniture.” Adam took a sip of his Scotch. “And the nice young men wearing all white with the black belt? Well, if you were a member—as Michael and Jared and I are—then you could request that you have your own assistant.” He leaned closer to Evan. “And that attendant would be more than happy to slip surreptitiously under the tablecloth, and give you enough pleasure so that you’ll think the top of your head is going to come right off.”
“You’re kidding!” Evan said, his hand over his mouth. “That can’t be true!”
“Every word of it,” Adam said. “And this is just the Bronze Level. Wait until you see the Silver and Gold Level.” He chuckled softly. “The debauchery staggers the mind.”
“My God, what does this kind of lifestyle cost?”
Adam felt a momentary flash of anger, but he caught himself before he said anything that he would later regret.
“Darling, just enjoy yourself, and let me worry about the costs,” Adam said, and a moment later was relieved when Evan dropped the matter completely.
* * * *
Evan came to the understanding—quite suddenly—that he wasn’t just in a different economic environment than he had previously known…he was in a different world entirely. There was nothing in his past that could prepare him for the world that was now unfolding before him.
“The sound of the bell is important,” Adam explained, the tips of his fingers moving slowly and softly on the back of Evan’s hand. “On this side, it’s a single bell. On the other side, it’s two rings. It’s a way of warning so that nobody gets caught crawling under or coming out from a table.”
Evan could hardly imagine a secret society where such things would happen, but the truth to the matter was, he was here now, and there was no denying what the establishment was meant to accomplish.
“It’s so organized,” Evan said his voice a whisper. “Everything’s been thought out.”
He felt Adam’s hand suddenly come to rest on his thigh, midway between his crotch and his knee. He had no idea of what kind of response he should make to such a bold action. He kept his hands on the table. He felt his cock begin to thicken.
“In a moment we’ll go upstairs to Club Exxxtasy. I think you’ll find it interesting. You like to dance, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Evan heard himself say. “I like dancing very much.”
* * * *
As Jared stepped out of the elevator and into Club Exxxtasy, he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline go through him. This was his most favorite place in the entire world. He loved the electronic dance music, and there wasn’t anything about the wild, archaic, bizarre surroundings that didn’t appeal to his wilder side.
This was the Silver lever, which meant that it was more expensive. Jared didn’t know what a membership went for. Since he’d become a sub to Adam and Michael, he didn’t actually have to pay for anything, most certainly not the membership into a private, illicit establishment that pretty much let its members do whatever they wanted to, provided everyone was willing, of legal age, and sober enough to know what they were consenting to.
The second floor of the building was called Club Exxxtasy. On one end of the room was a
bar where drinks were being poured by two men who wore white suits with black belts. Even their neckties were solid white. But as a person moved away from the bar, the room became more and more dark, the lights fewer and more subdued. The dance floor was in the light, but the small, round tables were illuminated only by small candles in round glass holders. At the far end of the room, it was nearly total darkness.
“I love this place,” Jared said as he slipped his hand into Evan’s and drew him deeper into the darkness.
He stopped walking when he noticed three men kissing, and their hands were anything but idle. The men were all well into their forties or fifties, and anything but handsome, though this didn’t particularly surprise Jared. Money was the axis that allowed the earth spin at Club Exxxtasy. It was the one thing all the members had in common.
“Everyone gets to have fun in Club Exxxtasy,” Jared said to Evan. “The young and old, the fit and the fat, the shy and the extroverted. All you need to be here is have a shit-load of money, and if you’ve got that, then ecstasy is yours for the taking.”
“You sound like you don’t like the reality of that very much,” Evan said, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the blaring dance music.
“Let’s just say that I don’t like to think about it too much,” Jared replied. “Come on, let’s all get a drink, and then start dancing our asses off.”
* * * *
Evan could feel the sweat trickle down from his temples, and he hoped that he didn’t look like a total wreck to Jared, Adam, and Michael. He had been dancing virtually non-stop since they’d all come up to the second floor, where Club Exxxtasy was.
The music couldn’t have been better. There was electronic dance music, which Evan loved. But then the DJ would switch to Golden Oldies of the rock-and roll days. His choices couldn’t have been better. Cat Stevens. Chicago. Lionel Richie. Even the Beatles. And then, just when Evan as getting bored with rock-and-roll, the music switched to R&B, and there was nothing that Evan loved so much as rhythm and blues.
“How are you?” Evan asked.
“More importantly, how are you?” Jared replied. “You’re the one looking to make a rather significant lifestyle change.”
“If you take me in, I swear that I’ll make you happy you did. Not just you, but all of you. It’s as though I’ve been looking for you my entire life, but I didn’t know it until I found you.” He looked away for a moment. “I know that sounds a little silly, but it’s the absolute truth.”
Jared took a sip of his beer and said, “And everything got started because I forgot to completely close an office door before I started giving blow jobs to the men I work for.” His smile broadened. “The world works in mysterious ways, now doesn’t it?”
Chapter 6
Now we’ll see what he’s made of, Adam thought as he stepped into the elevator and gave the operator a smile. The man had already been informed that they were headed for the third floor of the building, and that their movement to the Gold Level was approved. It was the most exclusive BDSM club in the United States, and probably all the world, and membership was horrifically expensive and terribly exclusive. It was secret enough of a society that it made the Bilderberg Society look as public as the local Chamber of Commerce.
But if one could afford the membership dues, and could pass the vigorous and almost vicious requirements to become a member, then the pleasures that came with membership were nothing less than exquisite. There were men who had been denied membership who would gladly pay three or four times the cost of admission just for one more chance to become a member—but once a man had been denied admission, that was the end of the story. Once denied admission for a valid reason—a history of violence or drug use were the most common reasons—there was never a second chance to gain entry. One denial was a life sentence.
The security officer that greeted Adam was a man he was familiar with, though he didn’t know the man’s name. His shoulders were very wide, and Adam remembered having been told something about him having been a professional American football player…or was it Australian rules rugby? It didn’t really matter. What was most important was that this was a man who could stop a fight in an instant, with a minimal amount of violence, and control his temper at the same time. He used force, but no more than was necessary. That was the key requirement. That’s what mattered the most.
“How are things?” Adam asked the security officer on duty at Club Caligula.
“No problems at all,” the burly young man said. “Got a couple members drinking more than they should, but we’re keeping an eye on them. It’s a normal evening.” The right corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “The pillory seems to be particularly entertaining this evening. Several of our young gentlemen have taken quite a pounding.” He turned his face away to hide his widening smile. “Everyone seemed to enjoy the situation.”
Adam smiled, then glanced over at Evan, wondering just how much the young man actually understood. His face seemed more than just a little pale.
Soon enough he’ll understand everything, Adam thought. He looked at Michael, then at Jared, and then finally at Evan. He thought about what it would be like to lock handcuffs around Evan’s wrists, or even more erotically, strap him into place face down on the St. Andrew’s cross, which he had personally supervised while it was being assembled when the establishment had first begun. The cross was in the far end of the room, where the darkness was almost complete. Adam closed his eyes for a moment, and a shiver went through him.
“You’re thinking about the St. Andrew’s cross, aren’t you?” Michael asked, his lips just inches from Adam’s ear. “So am I. Remember when we strapped Jared down for the first time?”
“How could I ever possibly forget?” Adam replied. It was one of the most erotic experiences of his life.
A man in his early thirties, in a white robe, approached them. Adam recognized his face, though he couldn’t remember his name. They had spoken in the past, but as far at Adam could remember, they had done nothing sexual together. At least Adam was reasonably certain that they hadn’t done anything sexual, though his memory often failed him on this score. The list of his sexual conquests was a long—and rather fuzzy—one.
“Good evening, sir,” the man said, his gaze meeting and holding Adam’s for a second longer than was necessary. He was holding an iPad. “I’ve read that you’ve brought a guest.” He gave Evan a smile that was professional, but nothing more than that. “Let me escort you to the changing room.”
Still leading the way, Adam wished that he had Evan in front of him so that he had a better view of the young man’s reactions to what must surely be so new and foreign to him that it was like he was on another planet.
They stepped into a narrow room that spanned the width of the building. There were iron racks with clothing bags on hangers, all neatly arranged in a single row, like at a dry cleaners establishment. There was a small desk, and sitting behind it was a handsome man in his late twenties. He wore a white robe with a black sash, and on the desk in front of him was an iPad.
“Good evening, sir,” he said.
Adam heard the door close behind him. They were about to get properly dressed for Club Caligula. The dress code for this floor was strictly enforced. Civilian clothes, and the accoutrements thereof, like watches and cell phones, were strictly forbidden.
“I was given advance notice that you were coming, so I’ve already made selections for you,” the attendant said.
On the table were three garment bags lying flat. Each, on the hanger that went through the opening at the top of the bag, had a plastic disk on it with a number. One of the bags had a hanger, but no disk.
“Your guest will have to put his clothes in one of the members’ bag,” the attendant explained.
“Yes,” Adam said. He had been through this before, but not often. He didn’t like bringing guests to Club Caligula. All that was contained in this building represented most of his most damning secrets of his life…and he i
ntended to keep them secret. “I understand.”
They stepped behind a chest-high curtain, and stripped quickly. Adam watched Evan without making it obvious that he was studying his reactions to what was happening. This all had to be wickedly, wildly foreign to everything that Evan had ever experienced in his life, Adam thought. It wouldn’t just be a larger-than-life decadence that would amaze the young man, it would also be the wealth that this lifestyle would obviously require. One didn’t run a secret society on pocket change, or whatever petty cash was currently on the books. An operation like this, Adam knew all too well, required wealth, political connections to keep it secret, and most importantly of all, the knowledge of whose good graces had to be maintained at all costs.
When the four of them were finished, all were wearing nothing but gossamer-thin raven-black robes that came down to mid-calf.
Adam looked at Evan, and waited to speak until the two were looking eye-to-eye. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? Just say the word and we’ll have you out of here in a heartbeat.” He put his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. This was a difficult subject to speak of, but a necessary one. “And if anything starts happening that you’re uncomfortable with, your safe word is ‘redlight.’ Everyone on the planet knows that ‘redlight’ means to stop. And that’s what’ll happen instantly, with no questions asked. Just say the word and everything stops.”
Evan nodded. Adam watched as he tried to swallow the dry lump in his throat. He almost pitied the young man…but the lust that raced through his veins had a rather difference influence on his emotions.
“Well, then, now that we all know the rules, let’s all go out and introduce Evan to Club Caligula…and that the debauchery that that implies.”
