The Club of Death and Rebirth Ch. 01-02

Chapter 1: Just another day at the office.

It was raining outside as she exited the cab. Sometimes it seemed like it was always raining. Like the dreariness of the weather had seeped into her soul and turned the colors all to gray. She had to fight her way to the door. The crowd moving along the sidewalk was thick even in the drizzle. The inside foyer was bland, but tastefully appointed. The couches were done in neutral colors formed sitting areas that would never see conversation. She tried to pay as little attention as possible to the surroundings that only seemed to reinforce the depressive thoughts of earlier.

How many times had she been in this building in the past two years? Nothing had really changed in that time. There was still the same little black board with white lettering informing you of the various legal and medical offices in the building. Still the same quiet air of efficiency and money being made and spent. Still the same annoying muzak playing out of the elevators that moved far too slowly between the various levels of the building.

Finally the thing that was most stagnant, herself. For two years she had been approaching this same nondescript black door. Every time she would read the little brass name plate while waiting to be buzzed in to meet with Dr Himel Drakenstien. The name always made her laugh. Brightened up those few moments till the voice over the little intercom bade her enter.

Within a few minutes she was again ensconced within the cozy office and stretched out upon the little couch. After two years of coming here she still couldn't decide whether the couch was mostly comfortable or mildly irritating.

"It has been two years doctor. Two years I have been coming here and things aren't getting any better." Without realizing it she had obviously made the decision to skip the pleasantries normally exchanged between herself and the doctor.

"I understand your frustration, but these things take time. It was only six months ago that you stopped hiding the real issues behind inconsequential minutia." Despite her obvious agitation the doctors unwavering calm remained firmly in place.

"I know. I know, but it's getting worse. I am tired of being a victim of my past, and a prisoner of my fears." Her agitation was as obvious as her determination.

"I might know another route we can go on this, but I am very hesitant to suggest it." For the first time the doctor's facade of calm seemed to show cracks.

"I am starting to flinch from people in the grocery store. I almost punched the guy my friends set me up with on a blind date because he touched my shoulder to get my attention. If you know something that might help then you need to tell me."

The doctor hesitated as she held her breath desperately hoping that there could be an answer. "There is this club. They have helped me aid another patient for whom conventional techniques were useless."

A jaded look filled her eyes. "Doctor, are you not listening to me, I can barely stand people in the grocery store, a whore house isn't going to help me."

Having resigned himself to this option the doctor's calm was once again fully in evidence. "I am not talking about a place for prostitution. Everything that happens at the club is happening between consenting adults."

"Look doctor, I came here to discover why I can't let people touch me; and you want me to go have sex with a stranger?" Confusion was evident in both her tone and the way her body seemed poised for escape.

The doctor sighed heavily. This was why he hated resorting to accepting his friend's help even on those patients whose issues seemed insurmountable. His club was a haven for people who had embraced themselves and celebrated the differences that separated them from normal society, but was often a shock to both the senses and the presuppositions of those who had yet to be initiated. "We already know exactly why you can't let people touch you. We have traced all of the traumatic events, and we have brought to light all of the dark places in your soul where your pain and shame hides." The doctor began in an effort to remind the young woman that though the past two years were not spent idly, they had still failed to resolve the root of the problem.

"So why am I still like this? Why am I still a victim?" She interrupted him before he could finish. The pain in her expression was difficult for the doctor to witness. He could feel it lashing his soul like a whip and leaving bits of ugliness behind.

Sighing heavily, and knowing that he had accomplished as much with words as might ever be done for her he reached into the desk drawer pulling out a card and held it out for her. "Here take this card. If you decide to try, call the number on it and listen to what they have to tell you. If not then throw it away on your way out of here, but either way I am afraid I can no longer help you."

Standing slowly from the couch she reaches for the card. "Are you trying to mess with me doctor that card is..." Her words trailed off after she touched the card, a light shiver traveled up her spine and caused her eyes to close. It was no more than a blink, but when her eyes opened a ten digit number was neatly typed across the face of the card.

"I could have sworn..." Uncertainty crossed her features. Her own mind was no longer certain whether the card was blank at first. Flipping the card over she sees that the other side is blank and decides the doctor must have flipped the card as he was handing it to her.

The doctor stands and walks her to the door. "I am sorry that my other methods have proven so ineffectual. I wish there was more I could do for you, but I honestly believe that if you call that number it will help."

She said nothing more as she left. A look of dazed confusion resided upon her features. Her thoughts jumbled and spun inside her head, and she felt like she was trying to pick a lucky ball in the lotto. There were so many more bad choices then good ones.

The doctor walked over to his desk and sat heavily upon his chair. He could feel the wearying effect that his sessions with her always left upon him. This time however in the starkness of her pain he had felt something different and he knew it was time to call his friend.

He didn't have to think about the number he dialed, though it wasn't one he had ever dialed before. His friend was never reached at the same number twice, but had made sure he could always be reached.

The ringing of the phone was almost harsh in his ear, and then a static filled buzz came over the line before it was answered. "Thank you for calling the Club D&R how may I be of service?"

The same sexless voice answering the phone, the same line spoken every time.

"I need to speak to the manager please about an appointment please." He had been to the club only once. He had begged to see this new effort that had absorbed so much of his friend's time and attention. His friend had warned him that he was not ready to see such a place, but he was determined. His friend had been right however, he wasn't ready.

Silence filled the line for a moment before his friends voice came on the line. "Himel, my friend. Always do you wait so long between calling me anymore, and usually it is necessity that guides the connection rather than lighter things."

A bit of guilt filled him, because he knew his friend spoke truly. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Just say I am right and let us move on because, I am right and there is no benefit to worrying about the whys."

"You're right on both counts, but remember I am the one with the PHD, so leave the psychobabble to the experts."

His friend's laughter filled the line. "Let us go back to the issue at hand. When should I expect her call, and when do you have time for a cleansing?"

You would think after all these years it would stop shocking him speechless when he pulled things like this. "Soon I hope. She is strong, but this has been affecting her for so long, it kills me that I can't go into even the skimpiest of details about her with you. I am certain it would help."

"Your details wouldn't help so don't feel bad about being unable to offer them. I am assuming you told her you wouldn't be able to work with her anymore; and thus she is my problem now so put her out of your head.

"I have been working with her for two years. That is something easier said than done."

"Well you have problems enough of your own to worry about. Didn't I tell you to wear the charm?"

"You made it into a bracelet. I hate having things on my wrist, dammit. I even wear a pocket watch."

"I'll swing by your office early tomorrow morning before you open. We can take care of the cleansing then." The amusement was obvious in the chuckle that preceded the dial tone over the line.

Chapter 2: Follow the little white card.

Was the card blank, or did it always have the number on it? This thought ran repeatedly through her head, but was followed closely by the thought that the answer wasn't important, and she was just using the question to avoid the real issue at hand. Should she call the number or not? This was the real issue.

She stayed awake late into the evening staring at that card and debating with her own inner voice. Himel had said the club was not a brothel, but the rest of what he said had implied that the club was sexually themed at the very least. She couldn't imagine letting some stranger have sex with her, especially kinky sex, but she was so tired of being a prisoner of her own mind and reactions.

It was almost midnight before she had worked up the courage to pick up the phone, but even then the most she could do was dial the number and stare at the send and end buttons. It was therefore quite a surprise when the phone started dialing. The bigger surprise however was that the end button no longer seemed to be performing its designated function.

She brought the phone to her ear just in time to hear the other end answered.

"Thank you for calling the Club D&R how may I be of service?" She could not tell the gender of the voice, nor even if it was a recording or a live person answering the phone, but why would a recording ask how it could be of service?

"Um, hello. My name is Sam. Well, Samantha really, but people normally call me Sam." She was babbling and felt like an idiot, but whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to just be waiting for her to continue. "I was given one of your cards, and told to call your club and that maybe you could help me."

"Ah. One moment please." The line clicked and silence filled it. She was sitting there listening to nothing so long she almost convinced herself that it would be okay to hang up the phone and go to bed. Just as she was getting ready to try the end button again the same voice filled the line once more.

"I apologize for the delay. I have been instructed to bid you to go to the address located on the card you were given and that the manager will meet you tonight."

"Tonight, I can't go tonight. Besides, there is no address on the card just the number." She would have continued the argument, but the sound of the dial tone filled her ear mid-sentence. She muttered to herself as she reached for the little card sitting on the desk.

The side facing up had the same simply printed number that she had just somehow called. She knew for a fact the other side was blank, because that was how the doctor had made her think the entire card was blank when he first handed it to her. Picking up the card she flipped it over ready to let the blank side be her motivation for abandoning this crazy idea and going to bed in preparation for work the next day.

There on the other side of the card, in the same neat black print as the number on the front was an address. Five minutes spent searching on-line and she was looking at a Google maps street level view of an empty lot. She sighed heavily wondering if the night could possibly get any stranger, even as she gathered up purse and keys.

It was almost one in the morning by the time she arrived at the address located on the card. The oddities of the night seemed to trivialize a building resting where cameras and satellites saw only an empty lot. The building itself was far from trivial though. It stood like a glass monolith towering above her head. This was a club? The windows gave the impression that no single floor took up less than two stories, and though the door was normal size it felt like part of a much larger surface.

Above the door there was what looked like the sign for infinity, but rather than a simple loop it appeared to be composed of a giant snake or dragon that was eating its own tail. Her nervousness was such that she could almost imagine the eyes of the great beast following her progress to the door.

As she touched the handle light flared in her peripheral vision and she thought she saw strange symbols burst into view momentarily along the edges of the door. She entered into what appeared to be a foyer for an expensive restaurant. Dark colors were mixed with light ones in a pleasing contrast that kept the eye moving around the room, but threatened no headaches from a lack of focus. A large desk that was almost a bar was flanked by the only other doors besides the one she had entered through. A man stood behind that desk dressed in a uniform that matched the room in its use of colors. His features were striking, but hard to define. He was neither handsome, nor ugly, nor plain. She stood there debating with herself exactly what to think of this man when the door on the left opened. She approached the desk hesitantly her attention diverted between the man behind it and the couple stepping through the open door.

Where the one man's features would not settle in her mind as being any one thing, the two men entering the room could be described as nothing less than devastating. Both wore leather from the waist down and nothing, but metal from the waist up. Like two halves of a whole they mirrored each other. The one on the left had an intricately carved metal bracer around his left wrist and forearm. His left nipple was pierced by a little dumbbell that gleamed in the lights of the room and more piercings graced the left side of his face at lip, nose, ear and eyebrow. His companion was similarly adorned but his metal graced only the right side of his body. Separate they may have looked odd, but together they held her in place as surely as chains. Her mind shut down and her body warmed up as she could not help her eyes from drifting from their bare feet to brightly colored hair. When had the punk look ever turned her on?

The only thing that started her moving again was when her eyes met theirs. The colors in those orbs wouldn't seem to rest on one thing long enough for her to make a decision on what to call them, but it was what she saw in them that got her feet working again. The light reflecting out of those eyes was as alien to her as staring into the face of a wolf you had met in the wild. She hurried now to the counter avoiding eye contact with the two and babbling an explanation before she was even fully in front of the counter.

The man there stared at her from deep set eyes and when he spoke she became certain he was the same person she had talked to earlier on the phone. He seemed to ignore everything she had said previously and greeted her as if she had just appeared silently in front of his desk. "Welcome to Club D&R how may I be of service?"

"Hello, um I was told the manager would meet me here tonight." She stared at his chest almost afraid to see the same sort of alien intelligence staring out of his eyes that was in the couple who were just leaving out the door on the right hand side of the desk.

"One moment madam." He said, while she watched as his fingers moved across an odd keyboard on the desk at an amazing rate. She tried to figure out where the monitor was, but could see nothing that appeared to fulfill that function.

A silence similar to the one that had filled the phone during her conversation now filled the room. He seemed to be staring at nothing for a bit and then turned to address her. "He will see you in his office. Go to the stairs at the back of the room there." He pointed to the door from which the other two had entered. "You will be directed further from there."

She nodded nervously and edged around the desk heading for the door. The music hit her like a fist to her chest when she walked into the room. She had heard stories about raves from friends who had tried to entice her to go, but if those stories were true accounts of such events then she had no hope of applying such a pale label to this. The music was like a living thing embracing her body. It was heard not so much with the ears as in the chest and the pit of her stomach slowly moving lower. This one room was larger than the stadium for a professional sports team. There was no way it fit inside the building she had entered. The room was made up of circular levels starting at the door where she stood and ending at least three stories down at a large stage crowded with dancers. The roof stretched several stories above her head in a gentle arch and seemed ringed by more levels like those below her.

Even when she thought the place a brothel she could not have imagined the sights that greeted her. The impression her first glance around the room gave her was that everything seemed fairly normal if of a scale that was difficult to accept as physically possible, but it was the woman hanging down between two balconies that broke the protective filter her brain was using to screen the happenings of the room. The dancer's body was completely nude except a mesh harness that encased her torso. She was thin and small like a gymnast and the way her body was contorted suggested much practice. Her back was arched within the harness and her shoulders were held by a man standing on a rail of one of the balconies. He must have been wearing some kind of harness as well as his entire body seemed to be involved in the thrusts that buried his cock down the woman's throat. Her hands were underneath her helping her back to arch, and upon the other balcony stood another man holding her legs down tight to her small chest. She could see his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. She blushed quickly and tried to look away, but everywhere she turned her eyes a new vision awaited her.

The upper levels boasted large screens giving glimpses into what must be private rooms in other parts of the club. Like a pornographic kaleidoscope images from the screen branded themselves permanently upon her mind. One screen showed two females chained to a wall next to each other. Their hands were chained close enough that they held hands without strain. Each had a woman standing in front of them, and she could only stare in fascination as the women begin attaching little clips to each woman's nipples. Next a belt that seemed to be almost a thong was attached around their hips and cunt and tightened down snugly. The clips attached to their nipples were then connected to the belt and both women turned their heads and smiled at each other. The smile must have been a signal or maybe the anticipation had built enough but the women standing in front of them did something to a little remote they were hold and both women's spine bowed away from the wall they were chained to their mouths open in an obvious scream.

Her eyes scanned from screen to screen never quite remaining focused on any one until they alighted upon a screen containing the two men she had seen in the foyer. Both men now wore less leather below the waist and more metal above. Each had lost the leather pants in favor of a simple thong that prevented their cocks from flapping in the wind, but did little else. They also each wielded a long and nasty looking sword in the hand whose arm was unadorned by the metal bracer.