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Hmm. What first?
A disgruntled looking patron stumbled past them, heading towards the back rooms of iniquity. It was not a pleasant encounter. It reeked of flagrant disregard of his power here. In fact, Pascal was not even sure if the man knew who he was. Yet another perturbing occurrence.
Where was Taliah?
He walked on, chin aloft at anything that dared get in his way again. One particularly irritating man even ventured to touch him in some gross display of wanton idiocy. He smacked him about the head, ebony echoing a delightful thud against bone. It would not do. Touching him without acquiescence? Never had anyone dared such oddity.
“So what’s the crack ‘ere?” Oaf said. Ere? Ere? Pascal rolled his eyes at lacking grammatical abilities and sent the cane back for another thud against bone, barely halted by the sudden appearance of Taliah behind the moron.
“Pascal?” He looked the woman over, appreciating enchanting curves he had forgotten about. “You’re here?” She was clearly shocked. It had been sometime. Too long in fact. “I’m-”
“Quite beautiful, my dear,” he cut in. “And still available should I choose to engage?” Her eyes widened. It was not surprising. The notion that he was owned was rife across the scene. Not something he was presently enamoured with.
“But-“ He moved around the moron between them, eyes looking at the leather that encased the small sub’s frame. “You’re still-“
“Inclined to defile you with anything that may become available, my dear.” She smiled slowly, increasing whatever lust was beginning to circulate within. Oaf chuckled, reminding him about guillotines. “However, I first have need of the Fire room. Is it still equipped?”
“Oh yes,” she said, taking his offered arm as they walked onwards. “Thomas tried to see but I evaded. Told him I’d lost the key.” Good girl.
“That was disobedient, my dear.” It was. He had taught her better than to be disrespectful to her master. But then Thomas did not fuck women, and this was undeniably the result of such misdeeds.
“It was what you would have wanted, Sir.”
His soul erupted, revitalising old muscles and priming instincts to cane anything that moved. Sir. The word rang through the air as a deviant little miscreant of devastation, bringing with it yet more smirks of absolute contempt for any sense of ownership over him.
They rounded through the throngs, which was, unfortunately, of mainly male orientation – again. Sickening. Diabolical.
“Where are all the women?” he snapped, glaring at yet another oaf who rammed into him on the way passed them. “I am disturbed.” Taliah shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “In fact, I may be rage filled.”
“You haven’t been here and Thomas is-“
“Gay.” Hmm.
He sneered at the thought, beyond annoyed at the lacking vibrancy of the venue. Too many men were here. Too many morons pretending to be of the scene. They were not. They were new breeds of old intentions, none of them either able or ready to understand what these clubs were designed for. His eyes swept the interior, looking for any sign of actual debauchery that may be occurring. Nothing. Only fucking and one man who appeared to be on a lead.
“I am disgusted.” She nodded beside him. “I am-“ He could not even finish the sentence. It was all incorrect and wholly boring. He hated boring. Boring was not an emotion he understood nor endeavoured to prolong in any way. He snapped a look at the driver again, who was pulling faces at two men who rutted in the corner.
“Are you gay at all?” he asked the moron.
“No.” Hmm. Not that it mattered.
They reached the Fire room and Pascal stopped to press his thumb against the secret pad behind the copy of a Rembrandt. Thomas was an idiot not to have found it. The fact that he had not told the boy was not the point. He was supposed to have total control over these venues, be their master. He should have searched more thoroughly for access to such rooms of hidden depths, certainly with all the new computing systems installed. Anyone could walk in mid entertainment. Taliah giggled, beautifully.
“Your cunt first, my dear?”
“Yes please, Sir.” Hmm. Enchanting.
“Sadly,” he said, waving the fool in behind her. “We must first entertain our guest.” She frowned and looked at the goliath, disgust in her manner. “Do enjoy yourself while I set up the amusement.” She giggled as he wandered over to the back wall, another pad being pressed to open the concealed panel. Ah. He sighed, enamoured by the beauty of such a mechanism that waited for use, and then moved to dust off some cobwebs with his handkerchief. The poor thing looked abysmal. Tired and old. He knew the feeling well. It was the same state of misuse he himself had been dwelling within. However, a quick flick of silk and the thing shone once more, the blade as well-oiled as it always was.
“That a guillotine?” Oaf said, arriving at his side. Pascal looked at Taliah, ordering her out of her clothes with nothing more than a nod. She began stripping, a smirk settling onto her face at the thought of what was to come.
“It is indeed. Have you ever fucked beneath one?” Oaf laughed and tried to broaden his shoulders. Pascal tilted his head at the effort to conceal interest. “Taliah is more than inclined to help, aren’t you, my dear?”
“What?”
“I offered you entertainment while you wait. Taliah is it. She is beautiful, no?” Oaf looked at her, his eyes suddenly on stalks given her near nakedness. “And she is very capable.” In either discipline – Domme or Sub. She walked over to the oaf at that point, a smile lifting her lips to that of the witch she could be. “What do you prefer? Domination, or to be dominated?”
“Neitha,” he replied, eyes focused on feminine wiles that were still very much able. Pascal smiled, uninterested in anything the oaf thought he wanted. He would be fucked one way or another, with his head under a blade for his lacking manners.
