Dan wasn't sure if it was the bass of the music or his frantic heartbeat that made the blood in his veins vibrate. He had lost PJ in the crowd of bodies minutes ago. PJ, who was the reason that Dan was now stuck at a BDSM club, the last place he ever wanted to be at ever again. The club was packed with people, the music too loud for his liking and if he really concentrated on it, Dan could hear the sound of whips coming down on human skin. He wanted to ignore that noise, but the more he tried the more prominent it seemed to become.
The Dungeon club was London's most popular BDSM nightclub. Located in the heart of the city, it was a place with a very good reputation in the international BDSM scene. Despite its name, the dungeon looked like any other nightclub with the additional St. Andrew's crosses, cages and a stage that offered shows on special days. There was a dancefloor and a hallway that led to the private rooms for playtime, should the playing area be too public. Safety was important at the Dungeon. Dungeon monitors always roamed the area. Alcohol and any kind of drugs as well as smoking were forbidden inside the club to offer both submissive and dominant a safe space for playing and giving consent.
Spotting a Dungeon monitor standing at the bar, Dan made his way over there with his eyes turned to the ground. He knew that people were staring at him and probably whispering behind his back. After some shoulder bumping and jostling with strangers, Dan came to a halt in front of the bar. The tall man wearing a brightly glowing orange safety west that identified him as Dungeon monitor briefly smiled at him before turning back to the person he was having a conversation with. A walkie-talkie and an orange satchel filled with safety supplies were attached to his belt.
One of the barkeepers, a girl with fire-red hair that was bouncing in locks from her shoulders, came over to take Dan's order. Alcohol wasn't sold at the club, the only thing that could really calm Dan down at the moment, and so he settled for some water, requesting a still closed bottle. He could feel the curious glances of the barkeeper. He knew her from his time as a regular at the club. She was friendly and looked good in leather, but as far as Dan knew she wasn't into the scene. Dan gave her the money and thanked her quietly when she handed him the bottle, too quiet for her to hear. He turned around, his back pressed against the bar now and scanned the crowd in the hopes of finding PJ again, avoiding looking to the St. Andrew's crosses and cages. With unease he realized that the Dungeon monitor had left his place next to Dan and he drew up his shoulders a bit further, hunched over and tried to make himself a smaller visible target.
Even if Dan wasn't freakishly tall he knew that he would draw enough attention with his simple clothing. His black jeans, black t-shirt and grey cardigan were a stark contrast to the latex and leather that most people around him wore. He looked like a newbie, someone who accidently went into this club and couldn't find his way out anymore.
With shaking hands Dan opened the bottle of water. His palms were wet and he didn't know if it was because he was sweating or because of the condensed water on the bottle. He took a small sip and felt the cool liquid run down his dry throat, his eyes still roaming over the dancefloor in hopes of finding PJ. He was the one that brought Dan here tonight and he was also the one holding the keys to the car that would bring Dan home at the end of this night. Dan screwed the cap on his bottle again, unsure what to do or where to go now. He didn't want to get on the dancefloor as there were too many people there already and he also didn't want to venture to the darker side of the room, the one that held the St. Andrew's crosses and cages, the swings and the chains and the corridor that led to the private rooms. All options considered, Dan thought that maybe going back to the entrance room, the one with blue and pink neon lights and the security guards and the lockers and attached changing rooms for switching into other outfits was the best plays to be for him at the moment.
YOU ARE READING
Those Who Trust (Phan)
Fiksi PenggemarDan used to be a submissive and now he's just a broken shell of a man. Warnings: past non-con and abuse || Cover made by phil-no-ouendan