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 NSFW/Explicit  Male x Male  BDSM Safety Isn't in a Word •Riddle&Butter•

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by ButterMyBuns, Nov 6, 2018.

  1. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    This does not start out with a true sense of BDSM. Patrick ignores safety words, lies to his partners, and ignores his own safety. If you engage in any form of BDSM, the sub holds all the power. The sub agrees to the scene, setting, and goings on. The safe word is there for the safety of both of you. The safe word is there so you do not do anything you are not comfortable with, because BDSM is all about pleasure. Pleasure is why you're there. Not ignoring your needs and pain.

    Patrick was a simple man. He got up in the morning and cleaned up his sleeping space on the couch, making sure it looked as if no one was sleeping on it. It wouldn't, not after today. He was supposed to move into his new apartment today, after all. Signing a lease was one of the most interesting highlights of his month, but to him, it felt like a step far too large for him. He headed down the hall to the bathroom with a fresh change of clothes, making sure to be as quiet as he could. He could hear his friend already up for the day, yet it still was something he stressed.

    A quick shower and he got ready for his day, a shiver capturing him as he packed away his toiletries and left the little bag on the sink. They'd normally be hidden away under the sink, but. . . Moving. His own place, for the first time in nearly four years. Just the thought left him bowing his head over the sink and fighting back what little remained in his stomach. It was terrifying more than anything. Patrick forced himself to straighten up and take his little bag and pajamas out with him to put away into his bag. He had two, a new and an old one. The new one had been a struggle in and of itself, but Patrick had moved past that one. He skipped breakfast, knowing it would be too much on his stomach today.

    Heath came out rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Unlike Patrick, being dressed for the day meant nothing for his lingering fatigue. He never understood how Patrick could spend hours into the night doing God-know's-what and still be so ready for the day. "Good morning, Pat. Excited?"

    Patrick nodded, not saying a word yet. Though it had ceased to hurt Heath, he still sighed. "I'm going to get my shoes on and I'll drop you off there, alright? You did good, finding somewhere close to work. Nice little walk in the morning?"

    More radio silence, but at least Heath's praise had elicited a soft sigh from Patrick. That usually did the trick. As usual, Heath gave up past that small achievement. He pulled loafers on and readied his pockets for the day as Patrick gathered his bags, the quiet walk to the car no different than usual. Heath helped Patrick with the bags into the back seat and with that, they were off. It was a quiet farewell when Heath dropped him off, and Patrick found himself watching the little Geo Metro putter off, wishing it would come back for him.

    Patrick turned to his new building, going inside and collecting his keys from the little front desk, the kind older woman giving him a wave as he went upstairs. He seemed like too perfect a tenant, but if too perfect meant no noise complaints (or carpet replacements), she could live with his eventual reveal as a serial killer. The quiet ones were always the ones to watch, she thought as she went about her day.

    Patrick's new abode was simple. A small one bedroom with an open living room and kitchen, the humble dining room the very definition of a realtor's use of "cozy". He didn't mind. He had no furniture, but that didn't matter. He brought his bags to the bedroom and folded his clothes neatly away to the shelf in the closet and prepared to go to work, letting himself out and returning to the street. It was three blocks away from his work, to be precise.

    Patrick was a simple man. He took that three block walk with a steady pace, barely passing a glance up to the kind office front that provided the name of his employer, 'Karr & Worth Law', as he went inside. It was a normal, quiet day filled with filing and research, something he could fall into rather quickly. No pestering, no new faces, nothing. His cubicle was as bare as his new apartment, filled only with paperwork and the supplied necessities.

    Patrick was a simple man. When his day was finished, he nodded his farewells to the few overtime-addicted lawyers and left, making the three block return to his apartment. This visit was as short as the last, changing his shirt for a loose t-shirt and his pants for a rather tight pair of ratty black denim skinny jeans. He didn't need to dress up too much, not when he was preparing to lose his clothes within the hour. He left his apartment with the same haste as before, beginning his walk for the bus that would bring him around to the only place he felt he had any chance of belonging in.
     
    Last edited: Nov 7, 2018
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  2. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Three and a half months felt like a lifetime.

    Jackson had finished his last physical therapy section that morning, earning proverbial gold stars in every category. He had gotten himself back up to a healthy weight, regained and strengthened the muscles he had lost, and for all intents and purposes appeared to be fully recovered from his time in captivity. Appeared to be fully recovered... The scars he saw in the mirror each day weren't the ones that hurt the most. No, those scars lay far deeper, in a part of himself he had officially hidden for good. His heart had been sealed, locked, buried. That fateful day when the man he would have done anything for decided that the bachelor life was more appealing had left Jackson feeling numb.

    Numb. He wasn't even sure that word accurately described the void he felt inside. Losing his first lover to Death had been heart-wrenching, but having his second walk away had been an entirely different kind of pain. For weeks he had struggled to understand what he had done wrong. Had it been something he said? Something he didn't say? A need he hadn't been meeting for his partner? Jackson had been loathe to bring it up in his sessions with his psychiatrist, wanting to keep those self-doubts to himself. Every day he had stood in front of the mirror trying to figure out how he had been loved one day and unloved the next. Given the timing, with him only a week out of the hospital and three weeks out of captivity, it had been reasonable for him to assume that - no matter what his partner had said - the secrets revealed in Marcus's dark room had been too much. Well, either the secrets or the ugly scars left behind from Marcus's careless treatment of him.

    Jackson shrugged his shoulders into the white dress shirt he'd taken out of the closet in his office at the club, effectively hiding those ugly scars. Steady fingers worked each button stoically through the corresponding hole, the shirt tucked in and tugged straight before he fastened on a set of silver cuff links. A black tie was added to the ensemble and secured with a silver tie bar before he slid his arms into the suit jacket. Black. It suited his mood.

    For all that preparation, Jackson didn't leave the office. He never does, Gabriel thought to himself. He couldn't exactly blame his boss and long-time friend, but it would have been nice to see him a little more active with the patrons. At a club like Surrender, the guests liked to have their egos stroked... as well as everything else. Smirking at those thoughts, Gabriel ran a hand through his messy blonde hair to make sure it was artfully messy as he sauntered up to the bar. It was a masterpiece of black marble on the top and bottom with sheets of LED-illuminated glass in between. A polished chrome foot-rail ran along the bottom of the bar and a floor-to-ceiling, sixteen-foot long mirror covered the wall behind it. Only his staff knew that Jackson's office lay on the other side of the mirror, giving him a perfect view of the bar and the dance floor beyond that every night. Gabriel half-laid on the counter, giving everyone a nice view of his ass decked out in destructed denim that hung on his hips and revealed more than it covered. Swaying to the music, he batted his eyes at the bartender, Louis, until the man mixed up a vodka soda for him.

    Wearing nothing more than those jeans; a pair of boots; and a bright smile, Gabriel sipped his drink from a tiny straw as he wound his way through the crowd and back to the basement. He felt forever banished to the Underworld some days, but it paid the bills and wasn't nearly as he much work as stripping. Some nights he even enjoyed himself a bit. Tagging Jaenelle out so she could take a break, he took over subtly supervising the two glass-fronted public play rooms as well as the crowd mingling around the sitting area. People in all manner of dress were splayed out on the black leather couches and armchairs, others kneeling on the floor or standing behind their Masters. He found himself looking more than once for a certain long-haired man that had been playing down here more recently. He couldn't deny that he was curious...
     
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  3. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    Walking through the familiar front doors was more than just a load off his shoulders. It was a release all to its own category, one worthy of the shy smile that graced Patrick's lips as he checked in for the evening, waiting until he was cleared to go before heading inside. This was his only real expense. Well, the apartment and this, now, but that didn't matter in his mind. The bar was his first stop. It always was. He asked for his regular martini as he sat down, making himself comfortable as he did. The faint smell of cleaners, the soft fragrances used to try and hide it, the splashes of liquor from too many patrons requesting drinks at once.. this beat papers and reports. This beat the stale air of his new apartment, the always too warm air from his friend's apartment. This beat it all.

    He reached for his wallet when his drink was offered, trading it for a few small bills -- tip included -- and returning his wallet to its place. It hadn't always been this way. If he'd kept on track, he'd be one of the lonely suits pushing more paper at the office still. He probably wouldn't even want to be in a place like this. Patrick took too large a sip with that, desperate to wash the regret away with alcohol. His lean frame shifted as he readjusted himself, wanting to face the floor and see if there were any faces amongst the crowd that he didn't recognize.

    The man he'd been with earlier that week had hurt. He'd never had the chance to know the sting of the electric play, but that wasn't something he ever wanted to repeat. That session had left him in tears, but the other man had been happy and sated, more than willing to praise him for such a good job done. Sitting still, that was easy. Staying quiet, knowing when to make noises and what kinds. . . that was difficult with new people, but that Master had been easy to get a feel for rather early on. He didn't even remember the safe word. He had forgotten it just as quickly as they'd agreed on it, not that he would have used it anyway. That was a coward's way out, and it would have only earned him disappointment and shame.

    Patrick had just wanted to quench the dirty thoughts and needs he had still suffered even as he tried to recover his life. Everything had been going. . . well, as fine as it could be, but he felt as if there was some core part of him missing. Patrick's Hail Mary had been the name on a file he'd been preparing. Research -- purely for one of his first few real tasks, he had to stress to himself -- had led him to a simply fascinating club right there in the city. Adult entertainment. He had to go, again, for research. Patrick found himself filling out the forms that faithful night with shaking hands. Nerves, he'd apologized to the woman at the front. He'd never been to a place like this before, ever, but he'd hoped it was what he needed.

    And it had. Strangers. Obedience, punishment, the release he didn't think he'd ever feel again. The first night had been probationary. Precaution. He'd still been able to muster a few words to the most interesting people he'd met thus far, and he'd fallen in love. After that, he was there one, two, maybe three nights a week at times. Most sessions he managed to have were light. He obeyed every command offered to him, and the heavier sessions had left him unable to return sometimes. He found rather quickly that some men just weren't the type he'd want to see again.

    There had been a few Masters so far that stuck out in his mind, but he shuddered to think of them. Maybe he'd find another with needs outside of his comfort zone. Maybe he'd please someone again at his own expense No, this time, Patrick selfishly prayed for someone that didn't want to see him bleed or leave welts upon welts just for the sake of watching his skin rise with just the right amount of force behind the crack of leather or flesh to flesh. He just wanted. . . He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't like that. Patrick finished his drink and leaned to order another, hoping that maybe, with a few drinks in him, he'd be bold enough to accept anything anyone offered with the gratefulness he knew he needed to have in settings such as this one.

    He paid for the new drink, a tip again with this one as well, and finished it just as quickly. There was no time like the present to go ahead downstairs, accepting an offer of an open door from someone that pressed too closely to him on the way down. He separated from them and lingered around one of the couches, perching on the arm and looking as lost as he always did. He seemed far too out of place, but many around had either gotten a private show of their own or they'd seen his publicly tamer humiliations and submissions. Wherever he searched, across clothes and faces, his eyes never seemed to meet anyone's directly. An excellent skill to have, for someone off his position.
     
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  4. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Jackson sat on the other side of the mirror, his listless gaze staring straight through the dark-haired man on the other side. He'd made a brief note of the man sitting down at the bar, then just as quickly forgotten his presence. Most of his life seemed as feeble and fleeting as a dream these days; everything that had once held his interest was dull and boring. He didn't even bother to rouse himself from the couch as a knock sounded at the door, followed by the noise of the crowd and music for just a few moments as Amber slipped in. The noise faded away again as she closed the door, her heels clicking across the blackened hardwood flooring as she crossed the room to lean over the back of the couch near his shoulder.

    "Your last session went well?" she asked gently, one delicate hand brushing over his hair. Several months ago it had been long enough to reach his shoulders, thick and full of waves that were easily coaxed into curling. Now it just barely grazed his ears, product keeping it styled back. Amber thought it looked nice like this, though she understood how proud Jackson had always been of his hair. She'd even say his obsession with it had bordered on vanity.

    Shrugging noncommittally, Jackson turned his head a little to lean into her touch, closing his eyes as she began to fill him on new happenings at the club. Not much had changed since last night - one new member, two waitresses had the flu. Little things. Jackson didn't care about any of that, slowly standing up and stretching. "Make sure security is doing their job," he reminded Amber. "They're moving forward tomorrow with the case against Marcus and I wouldn't put it past some of the reporters to try slipping in here tonight. They would love to tout this place as some den of iniquity that brought on its own problems." Never mind that what Marcus had done had involved only Jackson and his partner, not the club. The media would love to twist the story if they thought it would increase their social media audience and activity.

    Amber watched him settle into the chair behind the desk, the hum of the computer as he started it up signalling the end of their conversation. Little things, like the way he didn't refuse her touch, reassured her that he would be okay. Jackson wouldn't have made it this far in life if he wasn't as strong as he was; he'd pull through and be a better person for it. Hopefully.

    Gabriel, on the other hand, made it through life on rainbows and sunshine. That's what he liked to claim, in any case. Anything that hurt him was turned into a joke and brushed off just as easily. It had led to more than one person labeling him a 'playboy', but that suit him just fine. How much money could he honestly make as a stripper if everyone knew he had a steady partner? Most of the allure to people was in them thinking that they actually had a chance with him; it was all about the fantasy. The same as it was down here in the Basement.

    Jaenelle had brought him a drink refill and taken up her spot watching over the public rooms again, leaving Gabriel free to do what he did best - hunt out any lonely souls and make sure they were having a good time. That usually meant fixing them up with some drinks, pulling them back upstairs for a few dances on the dance floor, or playing matchmaker. Every once in a while, though, he was the one who could give them what they really wanted. As his grey eyes fell on what he had really wanted - or more accurately, who - he hoped that this would be one of those times.

    Wearing an easy smile, he lazily strolled over to the young man looking so lost in their little house of pleasure. Pain. Pleasure. It was all the same down here. Gabriel toyed with his straw between his teeth as his gaze swept over the man from head to toe, lips curving into a knowing smile. "Hell-o," he purred. "I've seen you around, handsome, but haven't managed to snatch you up before all these wolves get to you. What's your name?" Patrick. It was part of his job to know every member's name and face.
     
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  5. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    There was an older man kneeling before a younger one, the older man in nothing but his briefs and the younger dressed as if he belonged back upstairs on the dance floor. It seemed like such a small thing, but it stood out in Patrick's mind before anything else. It was a peculiarity outside, but just another standard thing here. Another sign that this place was. . . What normal should be, really. It seemed to dull the ache in his stomach, at least temporarily.

    The voice from beside him drew him from his thoughts, eyes flickering no higher than Gabriel's chin before returning to stare at the floor. His hand reached up to rub at his own side, almost self-consciously. The splash of hair in his vision, the clothes. . . The voice. That's what was familiar. He recognized it. "Patrick, sir," he murmured, his voice as meek as the hunch in his shoulders. He offered his shy smile, trying to straighten up a little. He had to make sure he wasn't coming off poorly. "I'm sorry that I wasn't available for you before, then, sir."

    Sir. The word rolled off his tongue naturally, like honey. It seemed second nature to him. Patrick reached to move his hair, collecting it and bringing it forward to drape over one shoulder, wanting to go ahead and neaten it up. Expose more skin that his hair hid, prepare for if he'd found a master for the night. "Is it master, or sir?" As natural as the question came out, it felt scripted. As if he followed a checklist with each encounter. Where most newcomers stumbled and tacked on lame after-thought formalities, his were there, but his manner seemed fresh and more soft-spoken.
     
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  6. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    If the upstairs was designed to present itself as an upscale nightclub, the Basement was like the heart of the beast, leaving no doubt about what kind of sinful paradise this was. The recessed lighting overhead was dim, the LED strip lighting running along the dark walls washed them in red, and the music on this level had a deeper rhythm that seemed to roll through the area. It wasn’t Gabriel’s style, but he found his hips moving with it anyhow, his entire body primed to move with any type of music.

    Sipping happily on his drink, Nothing about Gabriel’s posture would have indicated that this was just a job to him, that bright smile and focused gaze portraying nothing but interest in the young man before him. It wasn’t entirely feigned - Gabriel did want to know why Patrick selected a different partner each time. Had he not found a good match yet? Tonight could certainly give Gabriel an idea of exactly what this patron was after. Priding himself on being so attentive to their guests’ needs, he leaned forward a little when Patrick smiled shyly. “Patrick is perfect for you, hun,” he laughed. “All that matters is you’re available now.”

    Setting his empty drink on a small side table next to Patrick, Gabriel lifted a hand to run the backs of his fingers over the boy’s hair, sighing softly. No wonder Patrick had no trouble finding a new partner each night; he was obviously well-trained and eager to serve. “Hmm? Master.. oh, nothing so formal as that. If you don’t want to scream out ‘Gabriel’ later, then let’s go with ‘Captain’.” Gabriel smirked as he ran his fingers down Patrick’s arms to lightly take his hands, a sultry look on his face as he swayed his hips while walking backwards. “As your Captain, I need to know our destination. What are you after tonight, handsome?”

    Gabriel had a rather short list of things he wasn’t comfortable with, and judging from what he’d seen of Patrick in the public rooms, they wouldn’t have any problems avoiding the items on that list. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on with Patrick, but he was sure he’d figure it out eventually. They would have all the time they needed in the staff’s special room at the end of the private room hallway.
     
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  7. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    The small brush of praise earned another smile, this one thick with relief and reassurance. Gabriel was already accepting of him, and that was a rather comforting feeling. He wouldn't mind anything Gabriel wanted to do if Gabriel would continue with those honeyed words and candied compliments. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to allow Gabriel more access to his hair. It wasn't as comforting as full-on stroking, but the touch was again gentle, and that meant more than anything.

    Gabriel. That was a very nice name. He wouldn't mind using it if they met each other upstairs. It seemed to suit the blond hair, and he could only imagine the blue eyes he might have. That would be nice. They clearly weren't very easy to see through, perhaps clouded or covered improperly for Gabriel to toss around words such as 'handsome' He lost himself for a moment, his lips parting without a sound as he tried to regather himself. "Ah. Anything requested of me, Captain. I have no direct needs but to please my master."

    Just using the word captain brought a trickle of a smile to his lips. It wasn't any different from master or sir, but it had a completely different feel to it. It wasn't a bad thing to Patrick, but it still felt unusual. Most chose Master or Sir, simply to keep their place of power or dominance and make it clear in title alone. Captain sounded more like a different kind of relationship, more giving and taking, more equal demand and need. It didn't make sense. Patrick knew of only one kind of relationship, and his place was to give and never take, unless his Sir provided it.
     
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  8. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Gabriel watched Patrick more carefully than one might expect for a man who acted as carefree as he did, but those soft grey eyes remained focused on the young man before him. Everyone around them faded to the edges of his attention so that he could pick up on the nuances that would allow him to more accurately judge exactly what Patrick wanted, knowing well enough that submissives could be reluctant to voice their desires. The only thing he could gather from the boy's silence before he gave an ambiguous but courteous answer was that he had thrown him off with the question.

    "Well," he grinned, "It would please me very much for us to spend some time discovering what we both like." That little smile gave him some hope, and the idea of a challenge... it had been a long time since Gabriel had had a challenge. A bounce in his step as he turned around, Gabriel gave a small nod to Jaenelle as he guided Patrick down the short hallway to the door at the end. Like the other private rooms, it had a panel near the door with a digital screen. He tapped in his code and pulled up the camera feed to be sure the room wasn't in use, just to be on the safe side before barging in. "Mm.. you are a lucky boy, Patrick. We keep everything in this room," he purred as he ushered the man inside.

    The room indeed seemed set up with every type of equipment, the space the size of two regular private rooms. The concrete floor was stained and epoxied to look like pale marble, both attractive and easy to hose down. The walls were appropriately painted a deep red, the lighting in this room controlled by a dimmer switch on the wall. Gabriel nudged it down just a little from the highest setting, watching Patrick from the corner of his eye to see if he gravitated towards any of the equipment. "What are your safe words? I'm terribly basic - yellow and red. I've heard everything from Tapioca to Pinata though, so don't be embarrassed."
     
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  9. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    Gabriel gave Patrick pause once again. Both? What they both liked? How would he word it like that and have it sound so natural? Patrick bit back a scoff, rising when gestured to and followed after. He clasped his hands behind his back, a habit he never had wanted to shake. Heath had pointed it out, how strange it looked, but he didn't care.

    The room wasn't one he'd recognized or ever been in, but that wasn't unusual. He always ended up in one of the private rooms closest to the entrance of the halls and corridors, probably for convenience. His eyes wandered around the equipment, realizing just how accurate Gabriel had been with his statement. He still stayed by the door, not wanting to stray too far from Gabriel. Gabriel's question was amusing. Patrick shook his head at it, not caring what the words were. He couldn't recall a single one offered to him in any of his time here. "I use whatever my Master suggests. Red, yellow, Pensacola, Cumberbund.. I have heard many, Captain."

    His tone remained even and courteous, even as he made up words on the fly that seemed as strange as tapioca; he wouldn't let his humor get out and risk insulting anyone. He had heard many, indeed, and they'd gone in one ear and right out the other each and every time. Once, once he had struggled to remember one, but he wouldn't dare use it then, either. The scene continued until the Master decided it was over. He would agree to Gabriel's, or whatever strange word they settled on between the two of them. "What is my Captain interested in tonight?"

    With all of this equipment, surely there wold be something worth both of their time spent in the room. He did notice a St. Andrew's cross, there in the corner, remenants of the affixable collar still visible. The selection of leather goods near it, surely someone here was fascinated with welts and sores. The cage, the ropework set up already to affix a slave to and prepare for whatever debauchery had been on the menu.. Gabriel didn't seem the sort to shy away from that.
     
    Last edited: Nov 7, 2018
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  10. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Gabriel pursed his lips a little as he considered before offering a casual shrug. "We'll stick to the basics then - yellow to indicate you're reaching a limit and red to bring everything to a stop. Okay?" he smiled brightly. Whoever had decided that Gabriel was suited to being a Dominant had failed to take into account his upbeat personality and playfulness. Jackson had insisted several times that he made a good Dom because he knew what subs wanted and how to get them there; Gabriel was sure that knowing how to use all of the equipment safely and listening carefully to his partner's words as well as body language helped. He knew his friend well enough to know none of the employees at the club would be allowed in this room without fully understanding how to use each and every item... or, at the very least, be willing to admit if there was something they weren't comfortable with.

    Crossing over to a black-enameled wardrobe against one wall, he opened the doors on it to study its contents. A grin was tossed over his shoulder as he looked back at Patrick, answering honestly, "I'd be interested in someone throwing me up against a wall and giving it to me. Are you offering, sugar?" Gabriel's teasing tone didn't quite match the faint glimmer of sadness in his eyes, but as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone again. They were here to have fun and that was exactly what he intended to do. Patrick looked entirely too sweet to be tossed around between some of those brutes out there.

    "I'm a fan of the cross," he said, lifting a hand to point towards it. The cross was popular enough that it seemed a safe bet Patrick would be comfortable there. Folding his arms as he turned to face the man, Gabriel tilted his head, still uncertain of what Patrick was after. He didn't have even one thing he wanted to ask for? He would just need to coax some more definite answers from the man. Abandoning the cabinet for now, he moved closer to the cross and beckoned Patrick over with one finger. For the first time, Gabriel's face took on a more serious expression, even his stance firmer than before. "What are our safe words?" he asked, wanting to reaffirm to both of them that they were using 'yellow' and 'red' tonight.
     
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  11. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    Yellow for limits, red to stop. Limits, ha. Patrick nodded as if he was taking it to heart, but really he didn't care about all the trivialities like this people all wanted to set in place. None of it mattered. He kept where he was, allowing his eyes to follow Gabriel's back as he moved away. Gabriel's comment caught him off guard, but he managed to keep his composure. He'd never been the one to.. to take, but if Gabriel so wanted, he would provide himself. "If you want, Captain. I am more than willing to provide for you what you want." His voice was lower, then, not wanting to be so bold with it. A softer tone for more daring statements, and that would work out well.

    Patrick's stance relaxed, ever so slightly as Gabriel moved on from that thought, gravitating to the cross first. Gabriel was that sort of person. He came when beckoned, his hands remaining behind his back as he knelt down before Gabriel. He kept his eyes at Gabriel's feet with his approach, pausing as his mind tried to scramble for what Gabriel had said prior. Why was this so important to Gabriel? How firm was he? How keen on pain was he? "Red. Red and yellow, Captain." Or had it been Tapioca? Wasn't that one he'd said? Patrick closed his eyes, preparing for if he hadn't answered right. He could have, maybe, but it was up to Gabriel. Gabriel could change his answer at any time, and Patrick would accept it.
     
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  12. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Tilting his head a little as Patrick immediately responded to his silent command, even going so far as to kneel down, Gabriel's smile softened. There were at least a dozen names that came to mind in a heartbeat, Dom's who would drool over someone so well trained. The first name that came to mind, of course, was his friend's. Lord knew there would be no coaxing Jackson from his office anytime soon, not even for someone as sure to pique his interest as Patrick was. A flicker of sadness followed that thought as he remembered how very little interest Jackson had shown in anything or anyone these past few months. Would the man even have noticed Patrick? It seemed much more likely he'd stare straight through the boy.

    "It's sweet of you to offer to provide for me, but I think this arrangement will work out better," he murmured gently. Gabriel couldn't imagine the energy dynamic working well at all if he were the one strapped to the cross... and he had no desire for Patrick to decide halfway through it was too much and just run from the room, leaving him there waiting to be rescued. Although... if it earned a smile from Jackson, he might be willing to give it a try.

    Glancing down at Patrick's head he knew he couldn't do that the boy, instead crouching down and lifting one hand to slide through Patrick's hair, pushing it back a little to turn his face up at the same time. "Good job. Yellow and red. We're both allowed to use them at any time, no hard feelings," he promised. Giving Patrick's hair a few more gentle strokes, he stood up and reached back down to help the boy to his feet. "Go stand to face the cross. You may remove any clothing you like to make yourself more comfortable."
     
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  13. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    "If it would please you, Captain. I don't want to disappoint you with our first meeting." Saying he planned more, even though he'd never been more than once with person outside of a vampire that he seemed to settle on at the end of the night. He hadn't upset Gabriel, telling him his answer was correct. That relieved Patrick more than he could ever express.

    He sighed weakly with Gabriel's hand touching him, leaning into the touch without realizing it, straightening back as quickly as he did. He kept his eyes on Gabriel's chest as his chin was turned up, his mind wandering to the thought of Gabriel's eyes again as he was guided up. The safe words were for Gabriel, too. That was.. almost reassuring. He hadn't dealt with anything like that. They were always a test for him. Same with the clothing choices. Of course he'd undress fully, to give Gabriel the full display. He first eased his shirt off, exposing the scars clear as day on his side. Still only just beginning to lose their shine and lined with small pricks from stitch scars. Up and along his chest, to where several faint telltale vampire bite marks lay, barely visible and no doubt due to a vanpires assistance. He let the shirt drop, rubbing his left arm and moving to pull his hair to lay over his left shoulder, up out the way for Gabriel.

    He leaned to kick off his shoes, his pants following. Several still healing marks along his legs, back and ass as he turned obediently to face the cross, reaching his arms up in ready for the restraints. His frame was light, bowing his head to rest his cheek on the cool wood. He prepared himself for this, hoping Gabriel would find him acceptable, maybe even be lenient -- no horrible thinking. Selfish thinking.
     
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  14. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Gabriel still couldn't put his finger on what felt peculiar about this scene, but he had seen Patrick around here enough to know that if he didn't play with the boy tonight, someone else would. Everyone who joined the club was rigorously screened, even more so since the incident with Marcus. Several members had been removed from the rosters following that debacle and half a dozen others were under strict supervision. As Patrick removed his shirt, Gabriel's gaze immediately drawn to the scars, those little warning bells in his stomach went off again. It occurred to him that they might want to add Patrick's name to that list - not as someone who presented a danger to others, but as one to watch to be sure he didn't request more than he could handle.

    Of course, Patrick hadn't requested anything yet. It baffled Gabriel who was used to even the shyest subs nervously picking out a toy or two they wanted to be used. A soft breath escaped him when even more marks were revealed as Patrick continued to strip. He quickly lifted a hand to drag through his hair, tempted to send the boy home for the night. How often was he in here? It would only take a minute to go get the information on when Patrick had last visited, but as he watched him approach the cross, laying his head against it... Well, Gabriel had been there before. There were days when this was what was needed.

    "Good job," he murmured as he moved forward to fasten first one, then the other, of the boy's wrists into the cuffs. Gabriel moved the collar out of the way, not interested in using that, then leaned down to attach the ankle cuffs. Patrick's clothing was quietly moved off to the side as he went back to the cabinet to peruse its offerings. There were longer whips and canes hanging closer to the cross, but after seeing the marks that were still healing on Patrick's back, he wasn't comfortable using those. A slow smile tilted his lips as he picked up an item he knew nobody else on staff would have ever used - a riding crop with feathers on one end. It was probably in there as a gag as the flimsy plastic wouldn't hold up to any real impact play. Taking that out, he also picked his own favorite crop to carry back with him, making use of the table nearby to set both items down on.

    Moving to stand beside Patrick so that he could see his face, Gabriel slowly stroked his back. "We can stop anytime. If either of us use the safe word, or if I check in with you and don't get a verbal response, we'll end the scene. I'm not entirely comfortable with non-verbal responses," he shrugged lightly. He just didn't know Patrick that well. Correction - he didn't know Patrick at all beyond having seen him at the club. Giving him an almost playful smile, Gabriel delivered a light smack to his ass the next time his hand drifted down the boy's back.
     
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  15. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    More praise. Patrick looked almost relaxed as Gabriel's hands were on him, his eyelids relaxed over his eyes as the familiarity washed over him. This was good. This was very good. Patrick was a simple man. All he wanted was to feel something and be able to embrace it. Gabriel's praises left him ready for anything, almost begging for it as the backs of his fingers trailed along the leather lined rope that held the cuffs.

    He heard the shuffle behind him, wondering what Gabriel was going to choose tonight. There seemed to be far too many options to try out -- this room held the most promise out of everything he had seen. So far, Gabriel held more promise than anyone. It was too early to tell, but no one else had offered praises the way Gabriel seemed to hand them out. His eyes fluttered open when Gabriel's voice sounded much closer to him, his eyes wandering along Gabriel's neck. More gentleness. He was more eager to nod his assent with that touch, closing his eyes again.

    "Yes, Captain," he murmured, a weak breath escaping with the sudden smack to his ass. His eyes didn't open with that, though his cheek did lift from the wood. Those soft eyes of his still didn't meet Gabriel, his glasses shifting with his movement to reclaim their usual perch on his nose. He didn't seem to be against it in the slightest. His back moved a little after, adjusting to the warmth that rose to his cheeks after the smack. He did try and prepare himself for the next surprise, the surprise one always the ones with the most sting.
     
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  16. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    The way Patrick was responding to his touch, Gabriel would have been more than happy to spend their time together just petting his hair and skin. All he had to do was look at the boy's back to know that, no matter how quiet and timid he seemed, he wanted something harder. Part of Gabriel's job at the club was to provide that service from time to time, something he did without complaint. It had been difficult to fully engage in some sessions this past year... the past few years, if he were being honest with himself. Was it old age creeping up on him? Had he spent too many years indulging in pleasure? All he knew was that his sessions stroked his ego more than his desire, which was just fine with him. Occasionally, a patron would complain that he didn't follow through with sex, but that was far from mandatory in the job.

    Patrick was different. As he went to pick up the crop with the feathers on one end, he regarded the boy peacefully waiting on the cross. He wanted to make him happy, to push him to relax even further, to simply let go. Gabriel smiled as he teased the feathers down Patrick's spine, slowly tracing the curve of one ass cheek and continuing down the back of his thigh. He travelled back up the other thigh and along the boy's spine again, just wanting to excite his nerve endings before they got down to the rougher play. Not wanting the sensation to fade, he twirled the crop in his fingers like a baton and brought the leather strip at the end down on Patrick's ass. As expected, the plastic pole didn't allow it to deliver much of a bite at all, but this was fine for a warm-up.
     
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  17. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    The anticipation building up as he heard those footsteps leave from his side, the quiet pause before they returned to him, it had a shiver running through him. He'd be able to do something right, something good that could erase the stress and newness of the day. Something familiar. The light touches he was met with weren't. His brows furrowed with confusion, trying to place the sensation and coming up with blanks. There.. well, there wasn't anything he thought it could be.

    It felt nice. Very nice. As it danced along his skin, that preparedness he had begun to build up melted back, leaving him to simply give in to it. Gabriel was very wonderful. If he had a list of faces to place in any kind of order, Gabriel's was gravitating towards the column of comfort and ease. When the first smack hit, it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, when it ever came. He remained as still as he could, his breathing only hitching just the one breath before he brought it back to normal. That.. that was a crop. It couldn't have been more than once before that he'd felt something like that, but it was a rather unique sting. It would mark, it would bite and heat his skin, but it wouldn't become too unbearable for him after just a few wallops. He could manage this. He'd be able to please someone today and it would all be worth it.
     
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  18. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Gabriel’s eyelids lowered halfway as he heard the aoft crack of the cheap leather meeting skin, slowly getting into the play. He hummed softly as he brought the little toy crop down a few more times on Patrick’s ass, gently warming him up before they switched to the real crop. Even that one wasn’t going to deliver much of a punch, but it had a satisfying sting, as Gabriel himself could attest to. Hopefully it would be enough for his partner tonight, because he was hesitant to use much else on him when the boy still hadn’t given him any preferences or limits.

    Setting the toy aside, Gabriel took a few moments to just run his hands over Patrick again, stroking from his neck down his back and over the cheeks that were already a pleasant pink. “Good boy,” he purred next to his ear, pressing lightly against his back so he could nuzzle him. Making sure Patrick’s hair was still tucked out of the way, Gabriel picked up the second crop. This one was longer than the first, the tip not nearly as flexible but the wand having some decent give.

    He only teased the loop down Patrick’s back, delivering little taps to his hips and the backs of his thighs. The blow that landed on his backside sounded with a loud crack, though, and was quickly followed by a matching one to the other cheek. Gabriel rubbed the leather tip over both of the fresh marks blooming on Patrick’s skin, then rubbed the wand just below the boy’s ass, aiming carefully as he pulled back and brought the crop down as a cane. He was careful with the placement so it didn’t try to wrap around Patrick’s thigh. Gabriel was careful with every strike as he fell into that pattern of taps; swats; rubs; and caning, slowly building the intensity and doing his best to listen to Patrick’s responses... listening for the word that would let him know they were reaching a limit.
     
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  19. ButterMyBuns

    ButterMyBuns Mr. Skullfuckery Pleasant Member

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    The light stings had to be a warm up, or just Gabriel toying with him. It could be a fun game at times, but right now, it felt like something different from the normal. Gabriel must be older, more experienced. Less hungry for pain. Even in his own mind, Patrick didn't want to ruin it by thinking on how pleasant it was. The heat rising to his backside was meeting those swats with a desperate hunger, the sting spreading further out and radiating across his skin. He bit his lip to keep a moan in as skin pressed against his, keeping his head still as Gabriel's cheek found his. The purr had him melting against the cross again, not even focusing on Gabriel's steps as he had before. "Thank you, Captain," he whispered, his voice thick with the pleasure that brought him, the complacency it coaxed out of him. If he was being honest with himself, he would have allowed Gabriel anything that night, and he might have loved it all.

    The cooler leather brushing down his back made his head tilt back slightly, his eyes sllitted and unfocused. Those gentle touches were back, with the crop this time, and Gabriel still knew exactly what to -- oh! It had to be a different crop. There was no way this sting came from the same object! Patrick's hands clenched and unclenched, the near immediate follow-up making him bite his lip. In front him, he could feel the heat spreading to his groin, the slyly aimed blows that began to follow only making both heats rise and rush through his body.

    Unsure of just what kind of verbal confirmations Gabriel had intended to seek out, Patrick took a bold chance to gasp out another thank you, his breath hitching whenever the next strike fell. The heat was all he could focus on, the realization that the same spot wasn't gone over twice back-to-back. That care didn't last as he did begin to work over the already inflamed spots, tears pricking at his eyes as the throbbing began to set in. He wasn't sure if there would be marks left, but did it matter anymore? He was doing well, Gabriel had to be pleased. He forgot himself, forgot what Gabriel had to want as his pain tolerance was slowly being creeped towards, the tears falling freely as he struggled to get out another "thank you, Captain." By that point, his own voice was soothing. Shaky, weak, and proving just how skillful Gabriel was with a crop. With anything in that cupboard of secrets, Patrick was willing to bet.
     
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  20. Riddle

    Riddle Resident Ace Moderator

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    Gabriel was impressed by how well the younger man was handling the session, not crying out or trying to pull away as many eventually did. He knew he would have been yelping by this point, but that wasn’t saying much as he was also terribly vocal; it was almost a joke around the club. Even now he struggled to keep fairly quiet, biting his lip so he wouldn’t start talking and push Patrick out of that space he seemed to have found.

    Dropping into his own headspace as he began to work lighter strokes of the crop’s shaft lower on Patrick’s thighs, Gabriel could feel the heat in his cheeks spreading across his chest. His darkening gaze lingered on the pink splotches left behind on the boy’s bottom, not sure if he was jealous or proud or a little of both. He was definitely pleased with the reactions he earned from Patrick, those small pauses in his breathing, the way his hands clenched and unclenched, the tears in his eyes. It wasn’t until Patrick managed another ‘thank you’, this one shaky and muffled, that Gabriel again felt that sense that something was off.

    Teasing just the tip of the crop down the inside of one leg and back up the inside of the other he, he let it brush over the sensitive spot between Patrick’s legs before releasing the handle. The crop dangled from Gabriel’s wrist, attached by a strap, as he stepped forward to press against the boy again. It wasn’t just the comfort of his bare chest pressing to Patrick’s back that he offered, but the sensation of his jeans touching the tender and abused flesh of his backside. He smoothed a hand down Patrick’s side, the other lifting to rub away his tears with one thumb as he murmured softly, “Do you want me to keep going? Remind me of our safe words.” Gabriel wanted to be sure Patrick could still speak them before they continued.
     
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