Just Curious Ch. 02

As promised, here is part 2 of the 4 part story.

*

So, I have one of those evil, vindictive bodies that likes to get up super early in the morning after a night of drinking. At 5:10 AM I am heading to the bathroom, I'm not puking yet, but there is still that possibility. After a few glasses of water I stumble downstairs and fall onto the couch.

By 10:00 I am functioning well enough to head back upstairs for a long shower and to get dressed. Heading back downstairs, I grumble about my choice of renting a 2-story townhouse. Food is next on my list, and after three weeks of hell at work, there's not much left. I find a slice of pizza, 4 restaurant packets of jelly, and the end of a box of Nilla Wafers. The breakfast of champions. I need to go grocery shopping.

Rifling through my kitchen, I write down everything I'm out of, which is basically everything. I grab my keys, take a deep breath, and head out into the bright, shiny, noisy world. "FUCK!" Who stole my car? My car's gone! Where the hell is my car? I take another deep breath and try thinking. Drinking, I remember drinking. I remember that scary club. I remember the shadow man, but it takes a few minutes to remember his name was Dustin. I remember Brian was in town. Dan and Brian drove me home. My car is at the club. Yes! My car has not been stolen. I wait a few moments for my heart rate to return to normal. Now what?

About an hour later, I'm in the back of a cab, driving toward the factory district. The cab driver questioned the address, but eventually he started driving. Once we get into the factory district itself, and I see the row after row of abandoned and decaying building. I am starting to get very nervous. What if no one's there, how am I supposed to get my car out? What if that man is there? Even worse, what if he's not? I'm about to chicken out, to tell the cab driver to take me back home, when he turns a corner, and I can see the taller factory, standing proudly above all the other factories. Shit, now what do I do?

The cab slows to a stop in front of the brick building; the only thing marring its façade is an ominous pair of steel double doors. The driver looks at me, waiting. I fish some cash out of my pocket, and ask if he'll wait until someone opens the doors. He says he will.

Taking a deep breath, I exit the cab and walk up to the double doors. There is no bell or buzzer, just a keypad. So I knock on the doors. Half of me is hoping that no one answers, the other half hopes the shadow man opens the doors. I knock again, louder this time. I wait a bit more, and just as I'm about to turn away, I hear something behind the door. A few second later the door swings open. The bartender from last night is standing there.

"Umm, hi. I left my car in the back parking lot yesterday. I was wondering if I could get it?"

The bartender stares at me for a moment, the steps back to let me in. I turn and wave to the cab driver, thanking him for waiting. I watch as he slowly starts to drive away. I feel alone, and a little scared watching him drive off.

I remember the bartender from last night. Mid to late 20's, blue eyes, tan skin, bald, with those big arms bodybuilders have. He made really good margaritas.

I walk into the club, as the bartender closes the door, the lock sounding ominous as it echoes through the hall. There is an elevator off to one side, and a hallway straight ahead. The bartender leads me down the hallway, past several doors, and into the main room, the one we were in last night. It's as big as I remember it. He heads behind the bar and I take a seat on a barstool. He pulls out his cell phone, hits one button and waits.

In a slightly forced, cheerful voice "Hey boss."{pause} "Someone's here to get their car. You wanna come down and unlock the gate?" {another pause and he pulls the phone away from his ear}

I watch as he looks at his phone, scowling. He pushes the one button again. {pause} "Hey Dustin. There's a TALL REDHEAD sitting at the bar. She left her car here LAST NIGHT and wants to get it." Not very subtle. The conversation continues on the other end for a few seconds more before he hangs up.

"Is that him? Dustin? Why did you have to call him?" I don't want to know, but I had to ask.

"Yeah, that was him. He's my boss. He wanted to know if you ever showed up again. He'll be down in a bit. He said you could have a drink while you waited. I'm Harper by-the-way." My head drops down onto the bar. Why did he have to call him? What am I going to say to him?

This is what curiosity does to people. This is what killed the cat.

Picking my head up, and fixing my best hung-over smile on my face. "Hi Harper. Is that a first name or a last name? Got any juice? I don't think I could handle anymore alcohol right now."

He laughs. "I was making them a bit strong yesterday. And Harper is my last name, I hate my first name, very few people even know it." He adds conspiratorially. He then rattles off a bunch of juices that he has behind the bar. I settle on a pineapple/cranberry blend, chatting with Harper, wasting away the minutes, awaiting my fate.

Almost as an afterthought, Harper adds: "You be careful, OK?"

"Jared said that last night. Is he really that dangerous?" What the hell am I getting myself into?

"Not dangerous like that, but he will test you. See how far you will go and then see if he can get you to go farther. He wants to see how much you can endure. Just don't scream. He hates that."

Just don't scream?

**********

What the hell is that noise? Whoever is calling at this hour had better have a VERY good reason. He grabs the cell phone off the nightstand and glares at the screen. Harper? Must be serious or he wouldn't call.

"What?" {pause} "You fucking have keys." He angrily closes the phone, hanging up on his manager. Idiot! Slamming the phone back on the nightstand, he snuggles back into bed.

Again? He's calling again! I'm going to kill him! "What?" {pause} It takes a few seconds to realize what he's hearing. She's here! Fuck. She's here! Think.

"Don't let her leave. I'll be down in a few minutes. Do NOT let her leave!" He jumps out of bed, naked, and heads for the bathroom. After he's done, he brushes his teeth, splashes water on his face, and uses some to try and straighten his morning hair. He returns to his bedroom and grabs a pair of silky black pajama pants and a long sleeve cotton shirt from the dresser (they were on the top). He dresses as he starts for the elevator. She's here, and alone, now I just have to figure out how to get her tied up. He smiles as he enters the elevator. I didn't think she'd come back.

**********

The doors on the opposite side of the hall open suddenly; the noise startles me as it rings through the large open space. Shit! It's him. He's wearing baggy, comfortable looks black pants, and a long sleeve grey shirt. His eyes find mine as soon as I turn toward the noise. I watch as he strides toward me, calm, confident. Be calm, you're just here to get your car, and get out.

"Hey boss." Harper calls out a greeting.

Dustin nods at him, but his first words are for me. "You left rather quickly last night. I figured you couldn't handle it. I sure as shit didn't think you'd come back for your car without backup." She's got a stubborn, proud streak in her, I can use that.

"I don't need backup to pick up my own car. I didn't want to bother the guys. I just need my car, and I can go." Please, please, please just let me get my car.

"What's your hurry? I could give you the tour, there's a whole other floor upstairs."

Even I know if I say I have to go grocery shopping, it's going to sound lame. "Look, just let me get my car, OK?" That came out as more of a question.

"You still seem scared. You ran out of here last night without even saying 'goodbye'. Did I scare you, girl?"

I really don't like him calling me girl; it makes me seem like a child. But I don't know how to tell him to stop it without whining like a kid. So I'll let that drop. I don't want to get into a confrontation about whether or not I was scared, which I wasn't. So I'll just let that slide as well. Now what do I say?

Too late. He appoints himself tour guide before I can think of what to say. "Come on. I'll show you around." He takes my arm and gets me to stand up. No, no no no.

"Look, it's a nice club and all, but I just want my car. And I'll be out of your hair." Please, please, please just let me get my car.

"It's a great club. Why don't you want to see it? A full tour is pretty rare. You should be flattered." She seems to be fumbling with her thoughts. Let's just see if I can keep her off balance a bit more. Interrupting her before she can answer seems to be working also.

Crap, this is getting me nowhere. "It's seems great. Really great. But you're kind of an ass, and I would rather not spend more time with you than I already have." Blunt and to the point. That should do the trick, right? I turn when I hear Harper laughing behind the bar. Dustin turns and glares at him. Harper puts his hands up, in mock surrender. Then he turns and walks out a door that's next to the bar. I swear I can still hear him giggling. Now I'm alone with the shadow man.

He smiles and shakes his head. "Come on, I'll give you the tour anyway." He takes me by the arm and starts guiding me toward the door I just entered through. He leads me to the room behind the stage first. It's basically a large prop room/dressing room. There's a whole wall full of strange devices and frames used to restrain people. There's a large mirror, a shower, and various ropes and chains. He walks me out through two sets of black heavy drapes, onto the stage.

Dustin leads me to the center of the stage and steps back. I'm standing, alone, on the same stage I saw last night. It's eerie up here. Images of those women from last night flash through my mind. I can feel my pussy start to tingle. I look back at him, he's always watching me. Silently he steps up behind me, and puts his hands on my waist. Standing behind me, he presses his body against mine.

He's speaking so softly I have to concentrate to hear him. He's making me focus on his every word. "Can you see yourself up here? Faceless strangers watching you from below. Bound and helpless. Naked. Are you imagining a man using you? Thrusting inside you. Inside your pussy. Inside your ass. Can you see yourself cumming? In front of everyone. Can you see me fucking you?"

I pull away quickly. He had me, up until he said he was the man fucking me. Damn. What the hell is wrong with me? He just stands there, watching me. He knows I was imaging him. He knows it.

Silently, with a smug smile on his face, he takes my hand again and leads me off the stage. I follow him. I don't know what else to do. My body just follows him. We walk silently through the curtains, through the prop room, and into the main hallway. There are four doors along the opposite side of the hall.

"These four viewing rooms are all similar, just differences in color and style of furniture basically. Which one do you want to see?" He waits for me to answer. He never presses or demands, he just waits. I either answer or we stand there forever.

I randomly point to one. From what he said, it doesn't matter which I choose. He walks us to the door, and swipes a badge. After the beep, he opens the door with a flourish and motions for me to enter first.

My first impression is of a living room. There are two semicircle rows of blue couches, some tables and lamps along the wall, and a kitchenette in the back with an empty wine fridge. The walls are beige, the wood accents are a dark pine, and the carpet has a swirl design. It looks normal, and comfortable, except for the eight large TV's hanging on one wall.

"Are those for watching dirty movies?" I feel instantly stupid for saying 'dirty movies'. It sounded so childish.

He's smiling again. Damnit! I should just stop talking. "Not too often. Usually these are for live action viewing."

"Like the two stage acts from yesterday?" Why would they watch in here when they are up on a stage anyway?

"No. There are four rooms upstairs set up with audio and visual components. Masters can watch their subs being used by others. On these screens they can see and hear everything that happens. Usually they watch with some close friends, but sometimes alone."

"Why would they let someone else...umm...have sex with their subs?" I really don't like the word 'used'.

"Lots of reasons. They might want to see a different training method. Sometimes they bet their subs on things, and when they lose, they use these rooms to pay the debt. Sometimes they swap subs with each other for a night. Lots of reasons." He says it so casually, like whoring out a woman is a common, everyday thing.

"Bets? Like cards?"

"Yeah. Poker, sporting events, they even bet on the outcome of Dancing with the Stars one time. Almost any reason."

"And the women just let them do that? Why?"

"They aren't all women, some subs are men. And they do it to please. A subs main goal is to please. That's what makes them submissive. I would even guess that a natural submissive might take a dominant role is she thought it would please. She might not even realize what she's doing." I'm guessing here. She naturally follows, but she has no clue why. I'm betting that her past men wanted a tall, strong Amazon, and she naturally tried to fit that.

"I'm not submissive." This time I look Dustin straight in the eyes.

Dustin steps into me and kisses me. That wasn't what I was expecting him to do. The kiss is soft and warm, not like last night. He moves closer and I can feel his body touching mine. Slowly his hands roam up my body; over my ass, up my back, along my neck, settling in my hair. I feel a slight pressure, pulling me forward and down. The next thing I know, I'm bent over the back of one of the sofas. I try to stand up, but Dustin won't allow it. He stands behind me, pressing himself against my ass.

"So submissive, and you don't even know it." He is rocking himself against my ass; I can feel his cock twitching with every motion. "Do you even know why you came back here alone? Your body instinctually knows what I can do to it. Your body craves it. Just let your mind go, and follow your body."

WHACK

My body jolts as a sharp pain blooms on one side of my ass.

WHACK

I inhale sharply as he spanks me again, but I make no move to stand up. The spanking goes right to my core. My pussy is starting to tingle again.

WHACK

Dustin rubs his hand over my ass then he presses himself against me again. He pushes my feet apart with his. His hands leave my hair. He's just standing behind me. He's not moving or holding me down. I stay bent over. Not moving an inch. I don't know what he's doing, or what he wants me to do.

"Good girl. Such a good girl." Dustin is cooing in my ear. "Stand up, the tour is not over yet."

I am in way over my head. Why did I come here? I knew he would be here. I knew it would be like last night. Why do I do everything he says? He's going to fuck me today; and I'm not going to stop him. Do I even want to stop him?

As expected I stand, and Dustin takes me by the arm and leads me out into the hall. We head silently for the front. I see the door the cab dropped me off in front of. I could just walk out. I could leave and never look back. I look at the shadow man. He is calm, confident, masculine, and handsome. He knows he's going to fuck me. He's knows I won't, or can't say no. What's wrong with me?

We turn and enter the elevator, sleek black and silver. The elevator goes to a total of four floors. Weird, I thought this was a three-story factory. He swipes his badge across the panel, and presses the second floor button. I try to stare straight ahead, but I can feel him watching me. Why does he keep doing that? I'm starting to believe he can read my mind. It's funny because I'm really not thinking much right now, at least not coherently. Let him look.

"What's so funny?" His voice startles me. Can he read minds?

Turning to look at him, I don't know how to answer. He steps closer. He runs a hand gently along my face, down my neck, and around to the back, his thumb stroking up and down my windpipe. He leans in closer. "I expect an answer, girl. Or would you prefer a punishment?"

The elevator chimes and the doors open, I step out of the elevator and Dustin follows. I can't look at him. I can't answer him. Dustin takes me by the arm and we walk into another large hall, not as huge as the one below, but still impressive. The ceiling was lower, maybe only 15-20 feet high. The room seemed more modern than the other one; TV's on some walls, a fountain over there, sleek light fixtures. There's another bar, and another stage.

I don't get much of a chance to look around. Dustin leads me directly into one of the rooms lining the hall. The lights flicker on as the door opens. The door closing and locking thumps against my skin. The room looks like a rustic cabin, a shocking change from the one we were just in. The walls look like logs; there are hand woven rugs on the floor, even a fireplace. It seems cozy, until I notice the wooden beams in the ceiling. They have heavy iron rings with chains snaking through them.

I look around and see other things that I didn't notice before. The furniture, rustic as it is, has leather straps built in to them. There are coils of rope hanging on the walls. Even the floors have more of the iron rings in them.

Dustin leaves me standing alone; he goes to an alcove set behind one of the walls. I hear electronics beeping and coming to life. This is one of the audio visual rooms he was talking about! I take a few steps towards the door, my hand finds the doorknob, but the door won't open. I try again hoping, praying for it to open.

Dustin comes out, his eyes piercing me. He snaps his fingers and points to the floor in front of him. Did he just snap at me? No way! Dustin just waits; his scowl deepening, his eyes boring into mine. I cave first. I take a few steps forward. He just waits. One more deep breath for courage, and I walk the rest of the way until I'm standing in front of him.

"Strip for me." He says it so casually, like he's asking for a glass of water.

"What?" He can't be serious.

"I want to see you naked. Now." He waits for a few moments, and then glances behind him. He takes a few steps backwards and casually sits down in a comfortable looking arm chair. He takes a guitar from a stand beside the chair and starts strumming a few notes.

I just stand there and the random notes slowly become a song. My breathing increases, my heart is pounding. Strip for me. How can those three little words cause this much stress? Dustin is just watching me, not doing anything, other than playing the guitar. If he would beg, I would leave. If he would whine, I would leave. If he would threaten, I would leave. But he just sits there, waiting. He knows I'm going to strip; it's just a matter of how long I'm going to wait before I figure it out.

Looking around the cabin room, I see the little red flashing lights. One light is flashing in the corner, one on the cabinet, two in the walls, and even one in the floor. I can't do this. I can't.

He just sits there waiting. Taking a deep breath, and closing my eyes, I slowly reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it easily over my head. There's nowhere to put the shirt, so I drop it on the floor. My jeans are next, so I kick my sandals off. I can hear the button snap, and the zipper opening, but I still can't watch. It feels less real in the darkness; less of a really huge mistake. Slipping the jeans down my legs, I simply step out of them, leaving them on the floor by the shirt.

The guitar is still playing, a soft repetitive chord. It's oddly soothing, even though I don't recognize it. My hands are shaking now, not a lot, but enough to make it difficult to reach behind my back to open my bra. It takes a few seconds before I succeed. Goosebumps form as the soft material slides down my arms and drops to the floor. A single tear follows it down. I'm past the point of no return, so my panties join the pile on the floor unceremoniously.