Take Me Down The Rabbit Hole (BDSM | 18+)

XIV

"Well?" 
Aspen stared at the entrance to the club building. They had driven the entire way in silence, and he wasn't sure why he had agreed to this. 
"I-" he started, and then stopped himself. 
"You're scared." 
"Yes."
It had been a month. By now, Aspen had gone through extensive training about ropes, and safewords and he had tried virtually every means of bondage and every sex toy Alan had available - and his life was ... richer because of it. In a weird way.
But still, he was not what Alan hoped he would become. 
"We have time," Alan had said. "And if you want to move on from this relationship, you should have experienced it to its fullest before you do." 
According to Alan, a good dominant understood what a submissive goes through, and though Aspen had let himself be tormented for an entire month, that wasn't enough. 
"We are going inside," Alan decided. "Be a good boy." 
Aspen sucked in a breath when Alan pulled the collar from the pocket of his tight jeans. 
"Do I have to wear it?" 
"Yes." 
It was only then that Aspen noticed there was a tag on the collar, attached to the o-ring.
"It's a safety measure," Alan said curtly, and then he swiftly secured the collar around Aspen's neck before Aspen could protest.
That was new. At Alan's place, that thing was used for other things - things that had little to do with safety and were more embarrassing. 
"Alright," Alan said sharply, commanding Aspen's attention with just one word. "Remind me again of the rules." 
"I stay at your side, no alcohol, no eye contact, and I will use the proper way of address for dominants." 
Alan nodded. "You don't have to be scared, Aspen. You've been doing so well lately, and this is just another step in this journey. It'll be fine. And if you really want us to leave, you can tell me so."
Aspen nodded, his throat suddenly dry. He swallowed hard, the presence of the leather collar suddenly noticeable against his throat, and turned back to the entrance of the club. It was in the industrial era two and a half hours outside of the New York he knew and loved, and the fact that there was nothing around it except for the parking lot and a chain-link fence made it look scary - like the setting of a horror movie. 
Alan looked at him before he slung a bag over his shoulder and then started walking towards the door - naturally expecting Aspen to follow. 
Aspen hurried after him, trying to squash his nerves. Alan was here. He had the stupid collar on. He knew the rules. It would be fine. 
He followed Alan into the club and looked around, trying not to look like a deer in headlights. 
"Pet," Alan hissed in his ear, and an arm appeared around Aspen's waist. "Head down." 
"Sorry, Sir." 
The light - red neon - bounced off of Aspen's white sneakers as he lowered his eyes and let Alan practically drag him through the entrance of the club. 
Voices, lights, and loud music mixed as they left the entrance farther and farther behind.
It was a weirdly intoxicating mix - the energy was charged like it was back in the apartment when Alan would unlock that door. The sexual tension was crackling in the room and though Aspen's eyes were fixed on the floor, he could feel it raising the little hairs on his arms and giving him goose flesh. 
Occasionally, Alan's fingers would squeeze against his waist as he steered Aspen through the club, but there were no words spoken. The music pulsed in Aspen's ears while the adrenaline coursed through his body. His blood felt like it was boiling, and he could feel the heat rise to his skin. 
Alan seemed weirdly sure of where they were heading, and Aspen just stumbled along beside him, glad for the fact that he couldn't really see what was going on around them. 
And then, they came to a stop. 
"Alan!" A woman. "How good to see you! It's been a while. Is Spencer not with you?" 
"No," Alan said, pulling Aspen closer. "Spencer is having a sleepover with June." 
"Ah," the woman said lightly, the recognition of June's name clearly evident in her voice. "Who's this, then?" 
Perfectly manicured fingers appeared in Aspen's line of vision and held his chin, forcing his chin up. 
Aspen kept his eyes down. 
"This is Aspen. I'm training him. Aspen, don't be rude."
Aspen took that as his sign to actually look at whoever Alan was talking to. 
The woman was beautiful, but as she looked back at him, Aspen felt the same dominance radiating off of her as it did off Alan. 
"Hello, Aspen," she said. "My name is Allison. Mistress Allison to you." Her eyes burned into his, and her gaze felt like it was slowly dismantling him from the inside out. 
"Nice to meet you, Ma'am," Aspen returned softly, and then promptly dropped his gaze again. 
Allison tutted in approval. "You've done a good job with him." 
That comment made Aspen blush.
Alan chuckled. "We still have a long way to go, but Aspen is doing very well. But now you must excuse us, we're planning on having some fun." 
"I certainly won't keep you, but we should catch up soon."
"Of course. We'll see you later." 
"Alright. Have fun."
Aspen could still feel her eyes on him. 
"Thank you, Ma'am," he allowed himself to mumble, nervously sliding his hands into his pockets.
Allison's high heels clicked softly on the floor, and Aspen stood there, squeezed against Alan's side until he couldn't hear the echo anymore.
"That was a good friend of mine. You'll see her more often - outside of this establishment, too."
Aspen inclined his head, and Alan pushed him onward - through a doorway into a narrow hallway. They stopped again and a lock clicked before Alan pushed him into a room. It was warm and furnished in warm colors, almost reminding Aspen of Alan's room back at the apartment. 
One of the walls had a huge window covered by curtains. 
"Can people see us in here, Sir?" 
Alan smiled knowingly. "Not yet," he said. "Now, strip."