“What’s your pleasure, Sir?”
A simple question, right?
So it would seem given the circumstances through which the question had been asked of me.
A night out, at the club, where I often made my second home. The man behind the bar gave me
that look that comes, not with recognition, but with slight familiarity. I’d been here before, and
he knew it. Never before had I spoken to the man aside from the occasional order of beer, or

maybe something stronger. That night, however, things would change for me in ways I had
never imagined possible.
“Sir, can you hear me?” He leaned closer to my ear, trying to speak to me over the sounds of
pumping techno-tronic music and the excited screams of the other club goers.
“Yes, sorry,” I turned around then and got my first real look at the barman. He was of average
build, with a tall widow’s peak of slowly greying dark hair. His look was pleasant, but very
professional, and he had an almost regal air about him. “I’ll have a beer. Whatever’s on tap will
be fine.”
“Of course, Sir.” He quickly filled a plastic cup from the tap atop the bar. “But, that’s not what
I asked you.”
“Sure it is,” I took the cup and dropped a five on the bar for him. He let the rumpled bill sit,
untouched, on the smooth surface. “You asked: what’s my pleasure, and I ordered a beer.”
“Yes. I see. That is what I asked,” the barman leaned a little further across the bar, as if what he
was about to say was of great importance. “Besides, I think I already know you pleasure.”
“Okay,” I leaned away from the man. “This is getting a little too weird for me. You’re starting
to overstep the customer/barkeep relationship we’ve developed here.”
“I think not, friend,” his voice dropped to a near whisper, now full of a worldly sense. Education
and pedigree beyond what one would normally have found in such a man. “I’ve seen you here,
night after night, week after week, sitting at this very bar, watching the dancing bodies and
feeling the music played at these horrific levels. You find pleasure in these things, yes? And
yet, are forever seeking more.
“You desire the press of flesh to flesh, the sensations of another’s sweaty body pressed against
yours in exuberance. This horrid noise, these grotesque lights. The smell of excited young flesh
as it rubs against you and stays upon your body for hours after you’ve gone. You see the beauty
in the modifications to the flesh of those around you, the horrible beauty of these repulsive
people. Your pleasure, Sir, extends far beyond what you have experienced here, and well into
what you may never feel within the flesh you wear.
“Now, what’s your pleasure?”
I just stared at this strange, confusing man for a long period of time. The world seemed frozen
around us. The music continued to beat its electronic tattoo on my ears, the bodies on the floor
bounced and danced frantically about; but it all meant so little to me then. All the times I’d
spent here over the past year, all those night’s I had searched, as the barman so aptly said, for
pleasure, seemed meaningless before me then.
“I....I don’t know.”
A simple answer to the simple sounding question. I don’t know. Were more appropriate words
ever spoken? Did anybody really have an answer to the question put before me at that point.
“I believe I can help you to discover the truth,” the barman shifted back to his standing position
behind the bar. For reasons I cannot possibly explain, I leaned forward, following his progress.
He reached behind the bar, and produced a square of white paper about six inches across and
only slightly less than that in width. This he placed on the bar next to my crumpled five dollar
bill, his hand resting gently on the paper, holding it down on the bar. “Take this, if you are brave
enough. This is the first step you must take to discover the true pleasures of the flesh.”
I reached tentatively across the bar for the paper, and for an instant; no more than a fraction of a
second, my fingers touched the barman’s own. A strange sensation, that. The feel of the man’s
skin against my own.
Cold, but not from handling bottles and glasses full of chilled liquids all night long. The feeling
sent shivers down my spine, caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end, raised
goose bumps on my skin. His flesh felt almost lifeless in that instant.
Then, just as suddenly, his hand was pulled away from the paper, leaving only mine on the bar,
and the sensation was gone.
I slid the small sheet across the smooth surface of the bar towards me, not daring yet to pick it
up, my eyes never leaving those of the barman. He held my gaze with his own, unflinching, dark
eyes. A knowing look in them, and a sense of trust. This man, whom I had only just met, would
not lead me wrong.
“What...” my voice was tight, weak. I took a quick swallow of my beer and tried again. “What
is it?”
“An invitation to a party, a very elite party, at a very private club.” The barman crossed his arms
in front of his chest, his eyes suddenly becoming very serious, and a little frightening. They
seemed to almost change from dark brown to nearly pure black in a flash. I blinked and shook
my head, then looked at him again, and saw that his eyes were just as they had been before.
A trick of the flashing lights of the club behind me, surely.
“A party?” I turned the paper over revealing the image previously faced to the smooth wooden
counter top. A young woman, her eyes concealed behind a thin black bar to hide her identity,
dressed in nothing more than a black leather bra and thigh high stockings was being ridden by
what can only be described as the biggest, blackest German Shepherd I had ever seen. She
seemed to be in the deepest throes of passion as the beast had its way with her.
Emblazoned across the bottom portion of the photo, in blood red letters, were the words
“Fucking the Dog” and below that, a date (only three days hence) and an address somewhere in
the industrial part of the city.
I found the image both disgusting and appealing at the same time.
Never having been one for bestiality, the very idea of a human woman being mounted by this
incredible dog was unpleasant to say the least, and my first instinct was to crumple the paper into
a tiny ball and hurl it back across the bar at this man. Something in the woman’s face, however,
stopped me. She seemed to be as passionately involved in this experience as she would have
been had it been a man behind her rather than this dog. I could only stare, dumbly at the picture
for what seemed much longer than the minute or so it actually was.
“Sir,” the barman’s voice broke my revery and I turned back toward him. He stood, as though
he were a statue, unmoved from when I last looked at him. Whatever other customers lined the
bar were insignificant to him at that moment. “I would recommend you not let that out, as the
invitation was printed for you alone. You will attend.”
It sounded like a question, but something about the way he said it implied that it was inevitable
that I be there. Blindly, I answered anyway, in the only way I knew how. “I’ll try, if nothing
comes up,” shrugging I slipped the invitation into my shirt pocket and picked up my beer.
“Thanks for the drink.”
******
“Okay, Slick, you’re in.”
His voice, as large as his stature, boomed from somewhere deep within his barrel chest, barely
covered by the thin, black cloth of his t-shirt and the suit jacket worn over it.
“Thanks,” I took the invitation back from the giant’s hand that held it out.
Only moments before I had handed the invitation to the man at the door. He had looked down at
me, not due to his status in life, but only because he towered over me in that impossible way that
huge men had. I’m not exactly a small man, measuring in at slightly over six feet tall and about
two-hundred ten pounds, with the boots I was wearing adding a good two inches to that height,
but this man was impossibly tall and at least as wide as two of me.
Thus, he looked down on me, saying without words that if I tried anything, anything at all, he’d
fuck me up but good.
He’d taken the invitation, his massive hand nearly engulfing the entire six by six card, and ran a
laser pen over the black bar covering the anonymous woman’s identity from prying eyes, and
waited a moment for the beep from the black ThinkPad sitting on a small table behind and to his
right.
It beeped its approval after only a second or two of consideration, and, just like that, I was
ushered into what would soon become a party I’d not soon forget.
As the bouncer man stepped aside, undoing the lock hook on the black and gold velvet rope
strung across the entrance, he bowed slightly, bringing his features down to my height, and
whispered something which was lost to the sound of the music pouring from the now open maw
of the warehouse before me.
I stopped, the temptation to ask him to repeat whatever he’d said strong in my mouth, when I
saw her. Just a quick glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, but there she was. A beautiful young
thing, long, light brown hair, streaked with bleached blond and pink dye, stood just off to one
side of the doorway, her eyes, behind a pair of rectangular glasses, locked on me as if begging
me to enter her world.
All thoughts of what the bouncer had spoken were lost to me then, and I passed through the door,
my invitation clutched tightly in my suddenly sweaty right hand, at the ready in case anyone
dared question my presence.
Once inside, I was assaulted by the world beyond the street. Bright laser lights flashed and
pulsed in rhythm with the bass beat coming from speakers hidden all about the expansive
emptiness of the warehouse space. An expansive emptiness also filled to near explosion by
bodies dancing, gyrating, and otherwise intermingling with each other. Laser beams flashed
overhead in colours I had never even imagined existed, their brightness beyond anything I had
seen in recent days. The music, new and at the same time recognizably old, beat its voice over
the sounds that had to be coming from the crowd packing the makeshift dance floor spread out
before me.
The girl remained in her spot, watching me with those eyes, protected as they were by the
glasses. Each flash of laser light reflecting off the lenses, transformed the material held within
those frames from clear windows to the stained glass of church scenarios.
As I drew closer to this strange creature, I was able to more clearly discern what she wore, and
how she looked. A short plaid skirt, like that of a private school uniform, below a white blouse,
tucked snugly into the skirt’s waistband, open nearly to her navel, and revealing her slightly
baby fat belly, was what she wore. All of that above a pair of knee high black leather boots with
three inch block heels and zippers running up the outside. Her glasses were framed in dark,
possibly black, plastic, and seemed to fit more a teacher than a student. In all, her outfit seemed
to scream underage, but her expression was clearly that of someone who was meant to be here.
Once I was within arm’s reach, she grabbed my hand, the one empty of paper, and pulled me
close to her, so that I could hear her over the music.
We were pressed nearly together, her breast rubbing against the black silk of my shirt, and she
looked up at me. I was about six inches taller than her, even in her heels, and had to bend down
as she stood on tip toe to yell into my ear.
As I leaned forward, I got a whiff of her. She smelled cleanly of vanilla, soft and sweet, and I
inhaled her deeply. She either knew I was doing this and liked it, or merely wanted to make sure
I could hear what she had to say, because she leaned in closer to me as I inhaled.
“I’m Lena,” her voice was husky, and carried a slight European accent. “I’m your guide for the
evening.”
“My guide? I don’t understand.” Her smell was overpowering, and I felt my initial caution
begin to slowly melt away the longer I breathed her in.
“You will.” She dropped down onto her heels, and I got a clear view down her blouse. Beneath
the white cotton, she wore a black leather bra, studded in tiny silver rivets across the distance of
her cleavage and again across the bottom, below her breasts. “Come with me, I’ll take you to
your seat at the bar.”
My answer was lost to the noise as she pulled on my hand and led me deeper into the club
atmosphere of the place. I tried to keep up, but felt myself constantly being pulled upon to hurry
as Lena expertly wove us through the crowd from the door to a sturdy looking bar on the far end
of the dance floor. In all, the journey took far less time than I felt it should have.
As we traveled, I was able to finally get a full feel for the place. We were inside what was
clearly once an industrial warehouse of some kind, but had been cleared out of pretty much
everything a number of years ago. The walls were of dark wood paneling, definitely not
original, and the floor of smooth concrete, while the roof above us was constructed of sheet
metal. I wondered for a second what the place would sound like in a rain storm, heavy drops
striking the metal in a beat that would easily rival the music being blared at us all right then. If
there had been skylights in the place, they were covered up now.
Being pulled through the crowd, I marveled at the mixture of those attending what I was told was
an exclusive function. Formal wear mixed with casual wear mixed with what can only be
described as extras from an S&M video. Here, a young man was being drawn about on a leash,
walking on all fours as though he were a dog, and only two steps away, his master, in pinstriped
business suit and glasses, leading him who knew where. There, a group of ladies in skirts and
jackets, testing out the strength and form of a collection of whips and chains hung from the wall,
as if daring someone to take them down and use them.
We reached the bar without incident, Lena led me to an empty stool which seemed to awaiting
my arrival, then hopped herself up onto one next to it. She crossed her long legs, brushing the
heel of one boot against the gleaming leather of the other, and letting me see what I knew was
under her skirt. A pair of leather panties to match the studded bra. Her look, that of the innocent
school girl gone bad beneath the surface, was very effective in getting a reaction from me as I
felt my pants grow slightly tighter in front.
In order to hide what I was sure to be an obvious sign of approval, I sat myself on the stool next
to her, draping the lower half of my light black coat over my lap and letting it fall naturally in
front of me. If Lena noticed, she made no sign.
The bartender approached and, before I could even ask, produced a tall glass of beer which he
set in front of me, as well as a glass of something clear and bubbly which he set before Lena.
She picked it up and took a swallow, smiling as the bubbles tickled her lips.
“So, what do you think?” Lena leaned into me, her blouse falling seductively away from her
body.
“Of what?” I took a sip from the glass, an attempt to hide where I was looking. “You, or the
party?”
“The club, silly,” she let out a small giggle and dropped a hand into my lap. It was cool from
where she had held her glass a moment before. “I already know what you think of me.”
“Yeah,” I turned slightly to move her hand onto my thigh. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve
seen anything like that outside of a lingerie store.”
“No worries, muffin.” she lifted her hand right away and stroked my cheek gently with her nails.
They were painted bright red, matching her lips; which I had noticed then, for the first time. “It
was kinda my goal tonight.”
I took another sip of the beer, it was good; really good, some kind of imported stuff that I would
never have otherwise even been able to afford, my eyes on Lena the whole time. Around her
beautifully sculpted neck she wore a chain of tiny plastic beads, alternating in color between
deep red and near black, the color of blood, I suddenly realized with a slight start. At the center
point of the chain hung a small silver amulet, depicting some Egyptian religious symbol I did not
recognize, nor particularly care about.
“It’s nice,” I said, around mouthfuls of the beer.
“What?”
“The club,” I looked around to indicate the whole place without really having to take my eyes off
of Lena. “You asked what I thought of it. It’s nice.”
“Just nice? That’s because you haven’t seen the main attraction yet,” she hopped off the stool,
drink in one hand, my sleeve in the other. “C’mon, let me take you.”
“Sure, why not?” I set the now empty beer glass on the bar, waiting for the bartender to ask me
for some kind of remuneration for it. Instead, he just whisked the glass away to whatever heaven
empty glasses go to, and moved on to another patron. “After all, you’re my guide.”
******
It was at that moment that I realized I had lost my invitation somewhere between the bar and the
group of people waiting for entrance into the VIP rooms. Each one of them held their
invitations, exactly matched to the one I had been given by the bartender a few days ago. This
group of people, numbering only about ten or so, stood in a loose line while waiting for a well
dressed bouncer to allow them access to the rooms beyond the doorway he guarded.
The approach was the same as the giant out front had been; hand up your invitation, have it
scanned and, if the computer resting on the padded stool gave out the appropriate noise, you
were given access to the secrets beyond. Seemed simple enough, except I had no idea where my
invitation had disappeared to.
As I stood with the small group, Lena holding my hand loosely in her own, I rifled through my
pockets in search of the garish piece of paper that was sure to be needed, and watched as guest
after guest approached the entrance guard and was turned away because the invite they presented
was not valid. Not everyone, it would seem, could get in.
I pulled Lena close to me, so I could be heard over the music rising from below. “I can’t find
my invitation.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” her lips brushed, soft and sweet, against my ear as she spoke. “You’ve got
me. I’ll get us in.” She squeezed my hand in hers, gently, but enough to know that she was
telling the truth. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I looked around the club again from the new vantage point
above the dance floor. As we’d ascended the stairs leading up from the smooth concrete floor to
the carpeted wealth above, I had marveled at the sudden difference in not only appearance but all
around climate.
This upper level, while still done in the same dark wood paneling as the walls below, was
furnished with a pair of dark leather sofas, each with a black laquer and glass coffee table set in
front of it. The tables gleamed in the recessed white light of this new level of the club; a level
that, from below, had been entirely unseen and unknown. The wonder of having a personal
guide was that I would never have even stumbled upon this place had it not been shown to me.
The music from below was still overpowering, but the ambiance of this new area seemed to
make that easier for my body to accept, and, in fact, I found myself enjoying the need to lean
into Lena to be heard over it.
At the rear of this new area, clearly a foyer for whatever lay beyond, waited a wide set of double
doors constructed of thick, dark oak. Each had a single gold colored handle which met where
the doors joined. Standing guard before the doors was a man in a beautifully cut black suit over
a white shirt and black tie. He used a laser pen that was the exact match to that of his
underdressed counterpart on the front entrance to scan each person’s invitation as they
approached, waiting for the computer’s low verification before stepping aside and bowing them
in. It seemed that only about a third of those gathered here were being allowed access, and that
no amount of begging would change that.
As our turn approached, I continued to allow others to move ahead of Lena’s and my position,
still not entirely certain that I wouldn’t need the invitation that had somehow vanished from my
hand.
Had I left it on the bar? Or, maybe dropped it somewhere during our journey from there to here?
“What happens if someone else picked up my invitation and has already used it to get in?” I’d
stepped now behind my guide and leaned forward, resting my chin neatly on her shoulder and
brushing my lips against her ear as she had done mine earlier. I took another deep breath of her,
and felt the same sense of appreciation I had at the bar earlier. This time, though, I did nothing
to hide it and, instead, pressed closer against Lena’s back.
“Can’t happen,” she turned slightly and spoke nearly against my mouth. “It’s useless for anyone
else. I told you to stop worrying. That’s what I’m here for, to make sure you have the best
possible time.” She rubbed herself gently against me, the swell of her rump brushing the swell in
my pants. “C’mon. Our turn.”
Without a care, she stepped forward, holding my hands around her waist and pulling me along
with her until we reached the well dressed man guarding the door.
Now that I was close enough to him, I could see the twin metal spikes running through his
eyebrows, one at the tip of each one, bent upward towards the crest of his skull. Each was a
gleaming silver color, and nearly an inch long. It surprised me that I hadn’t seen them earlier.
“Invitation, please,” his voice was deep, not threatening, but not pleasant either, as he raised his
left hand toward us.
“He dropped it somewhere, Spike,” Lena nodded her head back slightly, indicating me behind
her. “But you can still let us in. He’s with me.”
“Don’t make no difference, babe,” his left hand wavered only slightly but did not drop. “You
know the rules, no invitation, no admittance. Without rules is chaos, and you know how the boss
feels about chaos.”
“I know, I know,” she pulled me forward slightly and leaned into me, her body fitting snug
against mine as though we were designed to be one. “Think about it, though. Would I even be
with him if he wasn’t supposed to be here. You know me better than that.” A quick rub against
me, and Lena pulled away, leaving me standing there as she moved up to where Spike stood,
waiting. She took his left hand in both of hers and turned it against her cheek, caressing herself
there like a cat against the corner of a doorway. “I’ll take full responsibility for him, and if
anything goes wrong, you can do whatever you want to me.”
Spike seemed to think it over for a very long time, we’d built up a bit of a crowd now, waiting to
get in behind me. I could feel their stares drilling into my back as I could only watch Lena and
Spike and shrug stupidly to placate them. Finally, Spike withdrew his hand from Lena’s face
and stepped back from her. He nodded almost unperceptively to her and she turned back to me,
holding her hands out.
I took her hands in mine and she pulled me against her again, then turned until her back once
again rested against my chest and we moved forward through the double doors.
“Do you know what VIP stands for, here?” she whispered against my ear.
“Very Important Person? Same as everywhere else, I’d figure.”
“Very Intimate Pleasures,” she purred into my ear. “Very Intimate Pleasures.”
I heard the doors close gently behind us as I was ushered into this next, even greater, part of the
strange party atmosphere.
******
VIP lounge was a very loose term describing what Lena and I stood in once the doors closed
behind us. In truth, it was a VIP lobby, leading off into various rooms placed equidistant around
the dark paneled lobby. Each was hidden from view by a thick, dark velvet curtain. Doors, it
seemed, became passe outside of the one through which we had entered.
Between each of the curtains, sat soft looking leather chairs, each with it’s own small table on
the right hand side. The chairs, while built for one, looked large enough, in several cases, to fit
two if they sat close. Beneath our feet, the deep carpet from outside gave way to an even softer,
plusher floor, done in a very dark, nearly black, shade of purple. Highlighted against the black
leather chairs and black lacquered tables, the purple really stood out.
Lena was a couple of steps ahead of where I had stopped to take in the sights of this new,
amazing area, and she turned to me, a tiny smile on her red painted lips.
“Well?” she turned around slowly to indicate the entirety of the room we were in.
“It’s incredible,” I realized suddenly that I was still yelling to be heard over the music from the
long ago abandoned public area. Embarrassed, I lowered my voice to suit the now muted music
tones of the lobby. Something classic, maybe Pink Floyd, was piping in from hidden speakers. I
shrugged, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It took me a while to get used to the change the first time I was here too.” She held
her arms out in front of her, palms up toward me. “C’mon, there’s more for you here.”
“What more?” I stepped forward slowly, all of this was almost too much for me already, and
now this gorgeous creature before me was offering more.
“C’mon,” Lena came at me, grabbing my hands in hers and pulling me into her arms. “There’s a
suite prepared for us.”
“A suite? I don’t get it: what’s going on?”
“The pleasures I mentioned earlier? Remember?” Lena looked up at me, a little pout on her
beautiful lips as if I’d offended her suddenly.
“How could I forget?” I leaned forward and planted a tiny kiss on her forehead, tasting her skin
and hair simultaneously. A sudden rush of heat rose in me, and I pressed into her.
Lena began walking slowly backwards, pulling me along with her. “This way, this way,” she
kept repeating it as though coaxing a scared puppy out from behind something. “It’s waiting for
you in here.”
At the sudden stop in our motion, I lifted my head from where my lips had remained against the
girl’s forehead. As I took in the dark curtain she’d lead me to, I licked my lips slowly, pulling
every once of her flavor into my body. She turned, still in my arms, and I felt her skirt rise up to
her waist as she moved. The studs on her leather panties pressed into me where her ass rubbed
against my thighs. She seemed to either not notice, or not care, and I slowly let my hands trace
the edges of her waistband across her belly.
“Patience,” she tilted her head back against my shoulder. “Let’s get some privacy first.”
With both hands, she suddenly threw the heavy curtain aside and, pulling free of my grip, rushed
into the private lounge that was revealed beyond. I watched as she flung herself onto the huge,
dark sofa against the far wall, leaping clear over the low table that sat immediately in front of it,
before the curtain swung back under its own weight.
“C’mon. It’s lonely in here.” Calling the tone of her voice purring would not do it justice. Her
call, right at that moment, was the most seductive sound I’d ever heard, and, without thinking
twice, I hurled the heavy velvet aside and stepped into the room beyond.
Like the lobby before it, the private lounge was done in deep, dark colors. It was furnished with
only the giant sofa, small glass topped coffee table and a personal sized bar that, up to this point,
had remained unseen. Lights shone from deep within the ceiling and in two muted panels down
the wall behind the bar casting strange shadows on the purple floor. On the wall over the couch
was a painting of something out of Dante’s Inferno. One of the levels of hell, done in such
beautifully grotesque detail, that it was stunning to look at. The brightly detailed flames; the
stark suffering of those trapped within; such sights to see.
On the sofa, Lena lay on her stomach, her feet in the air, curled behind her, kicking idly at
nothing. For all intents, a teenager come home from class early, lounging while the television
entertains her.
The low table in front of the couch was bare, except for a small, ornate wooden box highlighted
with intricate gold colored designs on each side. The bar at the right side had two glasses set
atop it, with a collection of bottles arrayed behind.
Lena lay there, on that dark sofa, watching me intently; a kitten eyeing a mouse as if waiting for
it’s next move; a smile on her lips and in her bright eyes.
I nodded towards the bar. “What’s your pleasure?”
Her answer was lost as I realized what I had just asked. The same question that had gotten me
here in the first place.
“Hey,” I snapped my head around quickly, nearly slamming into Lena where she now stood next
to me. “Where were you, there? It’s like you spaced out or something?”
“What...sorry,” I shook my head, clearing the sudden fog I was in. “Just thought of something
weird. What are you drinking?” I moved carefully away from Lena and over to the bar
removing my jacket along the way. I tossed the jacket gently over the bar, draping it there where
it would be out of the way. Under my jacket I wore a black silk shirt and dark cotton pants.
“Whatever, just pour and then come here.” She had made her way back to the sofa while my
back was to her, and was unzipping her boots.
I stepped behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of Absolut Vodka, poured out equal amounts into
the two glasses and then recapped it, watching Lena with one eye the whole time.
She’d removed her boots, and was rubbing her bare feet in the thick carpet. “MMMM....It’s so
good to be out of those. Come, sit next to me, keep me company.” She patted the sofa next to
her and I picked up our glasses and joined her there.
I took a deep swallow from my glass, Lena sipped from hers, and set it on the glass table next to
the carved box that sat there, then let myself sink into the soft black velvet sofa. I closed my
eyes for a moment, letting the events of the evening finally come to rest in my head, and felt
Lena’s hand on mine.
Opening my eyes, I found her leaning over me.
“I want you to see this,” she pulled me slowly up into an upright, seated position, her grip on my
right hand tightening with an intensity I had not felt from her up to that point. In her other hand
was the box from the table.
“What is it?”
“It’s a puzzle that needs to be solved,” she held it out to me, an offering. “Here, take it.”
I reached out and gently touched the box, running my finger tips over the smooth wood and
embossed metal. An almost electric tingle rose up through my fingers, but I didn’t want to stop
touching this wonderful thing.
“What’s inside?” I closed my hand gently over the box and Lena released her grip on it. It was
now fully in my possession.
“Pleasures beyond any you’ve experienced before,” Lena shifted her position until she was
seated behind me, her legs coming around, one on either side of my waist. I moved forward,
closer towards the edge of the sofa to accommodate her, and felt her press her chest against my
back.
The box sat, cradled gently in my lap, as I slowly caressed Lena’s smooth, silky legs. She leaned
further into my back, until her lips pressed against my ear. I felt her breath against my skin, as
she held that position for a minute or so, moaning low as I continued to rub her legs. She lifted
her legs slowly, curling in at the knees until her calves rested against my thighs, her bare feet in
my lap. Her toes were painted the same bright red as her finger tips and mouth.
“Open the box,” she whispered low in her throat. “And you’ll get many great rewards.” As
though to reiterate her point, she rubbed her feet against my crotch, eliciting an immediate
reaction as I felt myself grow hard. I let out a deep sigh.
“Great rewards,” I mumbled the words, reaching down into my lap to lead her feet into greater
position, I made contact with the box again.
Once again, came that strange tingle where my fingers brushed against the smooth surface, and I
wondered for a moment if Lena felt the same sensation when the soles of her feet brushed
against the box. I closed my hands gently around the wood and metal cube, cradling it as I
would a wounded bird against my palms, and lifted it out of the shadow of my lap and Lena’s
legs, and into the muted light of the room.
Now that I could study it more thoroughly, it was obvious the amount of work that had gone into
its creation. There were no obvious seals or cracks anywhere in the cube; if it was a puzzle, I
had no idea how to even begin to open it, and each of the six sides were beautifully embossed
with gold colored metal designs so intricate that my eyes were getting lost within them.
I turned the box slowly over in my hands, looking closely at each side. Six sides revealed three
different designs, each opposite matching its partner: top to bottom, front to back, side to side,
but still no sign of an opening. Nary a joint or seal.
“How do you open it?” I turned slightly away from the box, trying to see Lena behind me.
“There’s no cracks of anything. It’s solid.”
“That’s why it’s a puzzle, silly,” she had secured her face somewhere in the blind spot exactly
behind my head. “Just keep working. You’ll figure it out.” As if to spur me on, she squeezed
my chest in a tight hug, the metal studs on her bra dug sharply into the flesh under the thin
material on my back. At some point she’d either unbuttoned or removed her blouse entirely.
I turned back to the box, and continued to turn it over and over in my hands, finally deciding on
a side which had a compass like symbol at its centre. I moved my finger tips slowly around the
outside edge of the box panel, moving ever carefully inwards in concentric rounds towards the
middle. Occasionally my touch would be rewarded with a slight tinkling of bells from
somewhere within the box. At each sound, Lena caressed with hands and feet, the motions of
my hands on the box reflecting hers on my chest and in my lap.
Sometime during my initial exploration of the box, Lena had opened my shirt to my waist and
was now running her hands over my bared chest, twirling her fingers gently into the fine hairs
there. She was breathing quite heavily from behind me, as though in the midst of a passionate
affair. This only spurred me on in my search for the key to this strange puzzle.
As I continued the circular motions of my fingers on the top of the box, I was granted a sudden
shift as something inside clicked and seemed to unlock. With the click came another tinkling of
bells, this one not from within the box, but from somewhere beyond the walls of the room Lena
and I inhabited.
The bells seemed to throw Lena into some kind of frenzy of excitement and she pulled her legs
away from around me and jumped up on the sofa behind me, standing there for a second, then
hopping off the side and onto the carpeted floor. She danced quickly around the small glass
table until she stood directly in front of me, then dropped to her knees on the floor. As I had
suspected, she no longer wore the white blouse. Her eyes shone behind the lenses on her glasses,
and she grinned like a child about to receive the greatest gift of all time. The sheer joy in her
face caused me to stop what I was doing and just stare at her, agape and in awe.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “You’re almost there.” Her hands rose up to her chest and she
cupped her breasts, one in each, then bent backward over her own feet, hiking her skirt up
around her waist and giving me my first full view of the leather studded undies she wore. As
with the bra; black with silver studs around the edges and across the top. When she rose up
again, the shoulder straps of her bra hung loose and she gently pulled it away from her breasts,
setting it reverently on the table where the cube had once sat. “Your first reward.”
Her breasts were gorgeous, small and pert, the nipples, dark and hard, pointed straight at me.
She smiled seductively at me over the top of her glasses, her hair hanging loosely around her
face.
“You’re beautiful,” I could only stare at her.
“There’s more,” she whispered. “Keep going.”
I turned my attention, painfully, away from Lena’s body and back to the box I held in my hands.
Sure enough, there was slight movement in the compass-like circle in the middle of the panel. I
moved my thumbs slowly around that piece, and felt it turn ever so slightly one way.
That tiny movement triggered something inside the cube and it jumped out of my hand to roll
into the centre of the glass surface of the table. One of the previous side panels now faced
upward, and it suddenly split on some previously unseen line to rise slowly upward, a strange
“U” shaped geometric piece separate from the rest.
In tune with this movement, the lights behind the bar dimmed and turned a pale blue, while those
sunk into the ceiling blinked out entirely, casting the room into a pale darkness. As the box
moved slowly through its automated routine, the blue light slowly brightened.
Lena fell forward, her hands on the table on either side of the box, panting with the heat of
oncoming orgasm. Her face shone with sweat, stray hairs clinging to her forehead, neck, chest,
and back as she flung her head from side to side.
As I watched, the box completed it’s transformation, paused a moment, then slowly returned to
it’s original configuration. Once done, it rolled up under its own power, flipping the panel I had
turned back to the top position. I watched, amazed, as Lena began to shake violently, groaning
out her pleasure into the silent room.
It was then that I again noticed the beads at her neck, that strange ruby choker she wore. The
beads, deep red, had sunk into the flesh of her exquisite neck and tiny trails of blood appeared
where they had been. The blood trails encircled her throat, trickling slowly down her body,
mixing with the sweat of her passion.
The box clicked again, this time louder than before, and drew my attention back. It had split:
half of it rising in a star like pattern, while the other half remained flat on the table. The risen
half paused for a split second in mid air, suspended, it seemed, by the compass shape in the
centre of the box, and then twisted about 45 degrees and dropped quickly back down into place,
transforming the perfect cube into an obscure star like shape.
Lena climaxed at exactly that moment, throwing her head back and screaming at the ceiling with
release. He hair flew in all directions as a sudden wind kicked up from somewhere in the room,
and her sweat and blood cascaded around in droplets flung from her flesh. Our drinks, left
abandoned on the table, exploded in twin sprays of vodka and glass, several splashes of liquid
hitting me in the face stinging my eyes momentarily.
Only seconds later, the bottles arrayed behind the bar exploded in unison. Dark liquid and glass
flew everywhere. Instinctively I raised my hands to cover my face and head, felt several sharp
stings as glass hit me, then looked back at Lena.
She hadn’t thought to protect herself from the exploding bottles, and her torso was covered in
tiny cuts and scrapes.
Finally, the worst happened, the glass top of the low table between us exploded outward,
showering both of us in heavy chunks of tinted glass. The box fell to the floor amongst the
shards, resting quietly in the destruction it had wrought.
The blast of the table had tossed me back against the velvet cushions behind me, and I slowly
rose forward again, pulling my ass under me to sit against the sofa back. My hands were torn
open in various places, chips of glass imbedded in the backs of them and up into my forearms.
My chest and head both ached sharply and thick blood dripped into my right eye. I felt around
me, found Lena’s discarded blouse, and wiped my face. Fortunately, it seemed no glass had
found a home there. Unfortunately, the soft cloth would never be white again.
With my vision clear, I looked to where Lena had last been. She had fallen back, the blast from
the table having the same effect on her as it had on me, but with nothing to catch her, lay prone
on the floor about two feet from where she had knelt over the table. Every part of her seemed to
be bleeding at once, and I rose slowly and began moving toward her.
That’s when I heard the voice. Deep, smooth, almost cultured, filled with education and
pedigree, it came from the direction of the bar.
“Your time with her is done. Your time with us is only just commencing.”
I turned to the bar, tears welling up in my eyes, blood running from a gash in my forehead. Both
conspired to blur my vision entirely, and I wiped them away with the already bloody remains of
Lena’s blouse.
“No,” someone stood behind the bar, the face heavily in shadow from the bright, blue lights
shining from behind. All around the figure’s head floated a twinkling halo, as if the blue light
from behind were reflecting off of something metallic. “Do not cry for that one, her task is
complete. Instead, cry for yourself, as our tasks have only just begun.”
The figure stepped forward slightly, placing pale white hands on the surface of the bar. Arrayed
there, where the bottle once sat, was a collection of metal implements the likes of which no
butcher would ever be required to use. From somewhere behind the figure, I could barely make
out the rattle of metal against metal, as if a room full of hanging chains had been disturbed by a
gently blowing wind.
As I stood, staring in amazement at this unwelcome guest to our private room, I was able to
slowly begin to make out more detail of what had become of the wall behind the bar. Where
once had been dark wood paneling and glass shelves holding bottles, was now a fully open
space, lit with a similar blue to the light panels, leading off to somewhere impossibly outside of
the confines of the warehouse building we occupied. Behind this lone figure, I could now make
out the shapes of two more, each standing back and slightly off to either side of the spokesman
for their group.
The additional pair of figures were less heavily shadowed, they stood more directly in the light
cast within the strange hallway behind the bar, and much easier to make out. What they were,
however, defied any form of description. Both beautiful and horrendous at once, the figures
appeared to have once been human, but each was so impossibly transformed as to have even that
simple classification taken away. On the right stood a figure that appeared to have had every bit
of skin removed from its form and cast back and out to form a full length cloak as would have
been worn by a traveller in the middle ages. The cape of skin hung loose from its shoulders and
down to beyond where I could see, presumable all the way to the ground beneath its feet, and
rose up into a heavy hood that covered its features. By the size and build, the figure was once
male, but it was rather hard to be sure given the loose cloak that hid its features so well. The
cape itself seemed to move as though alive, rippling and shifting where no wind blew.
The left most figure was a heavy contrast to its partner. This one had clearly been a woman at
some point, and maybe even a beautiful one. What stood there, at that time, could really be only
loosely described as either of those.
A large figure, skin stretched by obesity, with only the breasts and hips covered by thick black
straps of what could only be described as leather, but was likely something else entirely, and the
face of a heavy angel. Over her mouth (I had determined that the pair must be a matched set of
male and female) was a thick metal band connected to a pair of transparent hoses leading off to
an object strapped to her back. Whatever was back there periodically exerted a small sound, like
a pump might make as I filled my car with gasoline, and the tubes connected to her face vibrated
slightly each time. Her exposed belly, white skin stretched nearly to the point of bursting, was
likewise attached to the pump thing by several similar transparent tubes. Something was
pumping the fat from her body, like lypo-suction only far more revolting, and then feeding it
back to her in an ongoing cycle.
Neither of these figures made any advancement, clearly held in place by some unheard command
from the speaker of the group.
“Ah, you’ve seen what awaits you.” My expression must have given away that I’d witnessed the
others. “Those two are here for me, not for you. For you, there are greater pleasures awaiting
beyond this room then what you’ve seen,” the figure, from voice and build, another man, raised
one hand off the bar and waved it casually around the room. “The girl was only a tiny sample of
what is to follow. Boundless beauty; intense physical pleasures the likes of which you’ve always
dreamed. That is why you’re here, isn’t it? A search for pleasure, for the ultimate in physical
sensations?”
I could only nod dumbly and stare at the figure. My eyes had adjusted finally to the backlit
nature of his stance, and I could now make out some of the details. He wore what appeared to be
a dress made entirely of thick, black leather, its uppermost section cut open at each lung to reveal
twin slashes rending his flesh open in a pain of ever bleeding wounds. His throat was covered
by a high, heavy collar upon which his head perched, this in turn was attached to full sleeves
which, for all their classic style and elegance, were imposing all on their own. Around his head,
what I had seen earlier as a halo of light, revealed itself to be thin silver nails, pounded into his
skull at intervals all about his skull and face. The most interesting of these was the one that had
been inserted into his lip, moving with each utterance the man made.
His eyes were hidden deeply in shadow, and whatever expression was on that revoltingly
attractive visage was lost to darkness.
“Speak up boy,” his voice was raised now, was it possible to upset a monster? “You found
pleasure in the girl, yes?”
“I....did...” courage was not something I was adept at. “But....”
“But...?”
“I....you....she’s dead?”
“Of course. Her purpose was fulfilled, her need was sated. Now she is of no further use to us.
Perhaps she was of further use to you, then? Is that it, boy? You wanted more from her?”
“I...no, that’s not what I meant,” anger now rose in me. This thing had killed Lena as surely as
I’d been standing there. My hands balled up into tight fists, Lena’s soft blouse crushed into my
right hand, blood leaking from it like a squeezed sponge. “You killed her.”
“Did I? Look again.”
My eyes darted from the figure behind the bar, back to where Lena had fallen. She looked the
same as she had moments before, fallen, torn, bleeding, and quite dead.
“Go on, boy, see for yourself.”
Slowly, not really wanting these things behind me, I took a couple steps backward, then moved
to the side, towards where Lena lay, bleeding into the thick, purple carpet. All around the girl’s
body, the floor was a sopping black mess. Boots squished into the blood soaked pile, thick red
rising over the black leather as I neared the mess of her body.
Keeping my eyes tightly on the figure behind the bar, I bent slowly at the knees, going down
towards the floor for a closer look at the beauty lying before me. I dared several quick glances at
her, but never took my attention fully away from the creature watching me with his cold gaze.
I knelt now, my right knee soaking up the fresh blood as it pumped from Lena’s body into the
carpet, and moved my right hand, with the bloody blouse, slowly over Lena’s face, clearing
blood and glass from her. Her glasses had flown off somewhere, which was probably for the
best since they should rightly have exploded with everything else in the room, and blood and
sweat had caused her mascara to run in black rivers down her cheeks. I wiped gently at her
forehead, her cheeks, her mouth, cleaning away whatever remained of her make up along with
the blood that had flowed there. Her face was, incredibly, untouched by all the flying glass.
My eyes wandered away from the monster behind the bar, and rested on Lena’s face. Despite
her predicament, her expression was peaceful, even happy, and she seemed to be just sleeping
there on the floor. If not for the bloody mess her chest was in, I would almost have believed
that. Almost.
Her torso was the worst of it. I saw then, where all the glass from the table had ended up.
Massive chunks of the stuff punched through her skin and buried themselves deep into her body.
A piece the size of at least both my hands had penetrated between her breasts and probably
cleaved her heart in two. Thick liquid pulsed up, around it.
Her belly, with its tiny pudge, was smooth and untouched. I wiped the blood away, and, for the
first time, noticed the tiny stone in her navel. It shone under the blue light in the room, a flower
on a battle field.
A sudden grip on my arm caused me to jump back and fall on my ass. Blood soaked through my
pants and into my shorts. On my right arm, Lena’s hand, holding on as though for dear life;
which, given the situation, was likely the case.
Her eyes had snapped open, filled with pain and fear. She stared at me, pleading, begging,
demanding, all at once. Her lips parted, a river of blood and saliva pouring out, and she coughed
loudly, tiny bubbles and droplets sprayed all around her mouth.
“Lena,” I rose back up, kneeling over her and taking her hand from my arm to hold it on both of
mine.
“You....did...it...” her voice was not even a whisper, I had to bend very close to hear to just feel
the tiny exhalation of her words against my ear. “Solved...the...puzzle...”
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I could feel the tears rising again. “If I’d known...”
“They’re...here...for...” another cough, blood sprayed against my face. “For...you...” More
choking sounds came from the girl, her head fell back onto the floor, her eyes closed again. As I
watched, I saw her chest rise slightly. Not yet dead, but probably very close.
“What the hell does that mean?” I dropped her hand from my grip, moving now to her face. One
hand on either cheek, I turned her face upward towards my own. “What are they? What have I
done?”
“Nothing you would not have done on your own. Eventually.” That deep voice again, I had
forgotten the thing was even in the room with us. I turned to the bar, but only the other two were
there. They’d left the hallway and now stood flanking the blue opening.
Suddenly, I was afraid. I looked quickly away from the bar, only to find the first figure standing
at Lena’s feet. From my kneeling position, he looked huge: tall and imposing. At his waist, a
thick cable holding half a dozen or so implements similar to those lain out on the bar. His arms
hung casually at his sides, and he looked down on me, not with contempt, but almost with pity.
“Your time here is done, boy. Come with us now, there’s so much we have prepared for you,”
he held his right hand out to me, waiting for me to take it. “Such pleasures, such pains. Lust and
loss, saint and sin, eons of suffering await you.”
“What about Lena?” I felt stupid asking such a thing. These beings were obviously beyond
caring.
“Ah,” his gaze travelled up the girl’s body. “A thing of beauty, this tiny creature. Is it love you
feel, or mere desire to know her flesh as we desire to know yours?”
“I...don’t know. Maybe both,” I shrugged and looked back at Lena’s peaceful face. “There
wasn’t time.”
“Time,” the creature laughed for a second. “Boy, you have nothing but time, now. Eternity
awaits you, and us. We have forever to learn what makes your flesh work.”
I stood slowly, not taking my eyes off of Lena’s face. I no longer feared these creatures being
behind me. If there intent had been to kill me, I would have been dead long before now.
Time, eternity, forever. Radical concepts I’d previously given little to no thought to, except in
the passing of everyday life. What time was lunch? Traffic would take forever? Broad terms, in
the simple blink of my life.
“Wait,” I turned to the creature with. “If you have all this time, why not give me one more
shot?”
“What?” he lowered his hand from me. The pair behind the bar stepped forward now, slowly
coming out from behind the bar, somehow sensing things were going awry they moved to hold
me in place.
“Give me one shot at this,” I looked down at Lena again. “To find out if it was lust or love.
Another try, so that I know.”
“What do we get from this deal? We already have you, what more can you offer?”
“Emotions,” I turned back to the figure standing there. “Pleasure, pain, these are what you
know. What I can offer you is the feeling that these elicit in me. Let me feel love for Lena, give
me the pain of her rejection, whatever comes of things. The rewards will be yours to reap.”
“We are not unreasonable, boy,” he waved slightly and the pair behind me stopped and slowly
retreated back towards the bar. “We are forever, you are fleeting. One chance, and then your
flesh is ours.” He stepped backwards a couple of paces, then turned sideways, facing the bar and
the hallway beyond. “A repeat of these events, and then, you are ours for eternity.”
******
“What’s your pleasure, Sir?”
A simple question, right?
So it would seem given the circumstances through which the question had been asked of me.
A night out, at the club, where I often made my second home. The man behind the bar gave me
that look that comes, not with recognition, but with slight familiarity. I’d been here before, and
he knew it. Never before had I spoken to the man aside from the occasional order of beer, or
maybe something stronger. That night, however, things would change for me in ways I had
never imagined possible.
******
Forever