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CHAPTER ONE
Alaric
I tapped the heavy card stock program against my hand as I made my way into the hotel.
I had no fucking idea what I was doing here.
I guess maybe you could chalk it up to nostalgia.
After I stopped dancing at the club, I’d lost contact with everyone I’d used to associate with back then.
So when I’d gotten a text talking about this conference, I think the urge to relive those days had made me agree to stop by.
Apparently, some guy who also used to dance at the same club I did had started his own adult content site. And in an attempt to get more content creators, he was tapping the shoulders of all the former dancers in the club.
I didn’t exactly have any interest in starting a side hustle with adult content. I was here more for a meet-up afterward, talking about the glory days.
“No fucking shit!” a voice said almost as soon as I made my way into the conference room of the hotel. It was set up with a long table lined in about twenty chairs, with a massive whiteboard on one wall, and a TV on the other. “Never thoughtyour ass would show up,” he added as I turned to see a familiar face standing at the head of the table.
Sion had been working at the club for a few years before I’d shown up there, just barely legal, and ready to make some money after a childhood of debilitating financial issues.
He was the one to take me under his wing, letting me use his guest pass to his gym, so I could bulk up, and therefore get more money when I was on stage.
He was still a brick wall of a man. By nature, to some extent. He was six-five with the shoulders of a linebacker. But he also clearly still spent a lot of time in the gym, staying bulky.
He had darker features than I did—dark brown hair and a matching beard and dark blue eyes.
“Holy shit,” he said, reaching for my hand, and pulling me in for a one-armed hug, rapping me on my back hard. “Didn’t think you’d come,” he admitted, moving back. “Last I heard, you got yourself a different kind of gig.”
“I do,” I told him. “Guess I was just… curious,” I admitted.
“You made it just in time,” he said, waving toward the seats.
It wasn’t a completely full house, but there were only three empty seats.
Gender-wise, we were a seventy-thirty split, in favor of the men. Interestingly enough. But I guess if Sion was just inviting people he’d known from the club, he was mostly going to have men. Even though the club did have female dancers, the men only danced on certain nights, and the female clients were not involved for obvious reasons.
“Let’s just jump into it, then,” Sion said as he moved toward the other end of the table near the TV, reaching for a remote. “This is PatronSinner,” Sion told us. A play, no doubt, onPatron Saint.
He clicked a button, and the home page of the site played across the screen.
I guess I expected immediate porn. But it was an elegantly designed page with a shit-ton of categories.
“Balloon play?” one of the other men asked, brows raised.
“A really popular genre, believe it or not,” Sion said. “Which is an important part of our platform. Niche. I think our competition is overrun with just plain general content. To be frank, just a lot of fucking. And, yeah, that’s a part of this, for the creators who want to do that. But we’re really trying to focus on the more niche fetishes. Balloons, that’s one of them. And the usual shit like bondage, breeding, CNC—“
“CNC?” one of the other men asked.
“Consensual non-consent,” one of the women chimed in. “Popular in steamy books.”
“How can you consensually not consent?” he pressed.
“It’s an agreement to playing out a non-consensual fantasy. Like, off the cuff, they agree to playing it out. But she doesn’t know when it happens. Then he breaks in at night and… gets to it.”
“Right,” he said, shaking his head.
“We’re not yucking yums here,” she said, lifting her chin at him.
