That was Club Trinity, every carnal desire not just openly shared, but embraced.
“She’s beautiful,” the guard said.
“I know. And she’s mine. I don’t share.”
The guard shrugged. “Let me know if you change your mind, or tire of her attentions.” He held out a small scanning device and I lifted my wrist to expose the mark there. Beneath the mark was a small chip embedded in my flesh, marking me as a member of the club, as one of the elite.
Sophia and I were checked for weapons by two other guards before the man with the scanner cleared us to enter the club. “Welcome back, Master Gunnar. It’s been a long time.”
“Thank you.” A long time? Twelve years. It felt like a lifetime ago.
With my hand around Sophia’s waist, I led her into the main ballroom. Dozens of unmated men and women mingled, looking for partners, for sex, for pain. Any appetite was welcome here.
The low light level in the main room ensured the level-one rooms were on prominent display. On the other side of the glass, brightly lit participants carried out every sex act I could think of.
I could only imagine Sophia’s thoughts when the first sex scenes she witnessed were public fucking, exhibitionism and anal play.
She leaned into me, her small hand searching for mine and I gently entwined my fingers with hers. Squeezed. I had warned her, had, in fact, described the club , and its three levels in great detail.
The second floor catered toward the likes of those from Sector Three. It was one large room, bacchanal style, for anyone to touch or suck or lick, kiss or fuck any other. It was decadent and occupied with those who wanted to focus on oral pleasure, with anyone and everyone within reach. Sector Three was known for their love of oral sex, their tongues quite skilled, and anyone seeking that kind of pleasure knew to seek someone from that region of Viken, and on the second floor.
The third floor was where I felt most comfortable. It was the darker floor, with soft lighting, dark red leather everywhere. It had restraints and toys, whatever anyone needed to dish out pain along with their pleasure. Level three was about control. But that was for later.
We circled the lower two levels for over an hour, my mate walking discreetly behind me, never more than a single step from my side. I’d forgotten the intensity of the carnal temptations offered by this place. Everywhere I looked, men and women played and screamed, fucked and bled. I was not into true pain, I was not a Sadist, but I did not judge their need. Nor the needs of the submissives quivering with desire as their asses were struck by the crop or cane.
But I could not deny the seductive nature of the club’s atmosphere, my cock hard and ready the entire length of our tour. The place was created for fucking and the air exuded an essence of need. Harnessed power. Desire. I felt it and I knew Sophia had too. But we both had to wait.
I knew she focused on listening to the voices of those around us, particularly the Masters marked with the Trinity Serpent, as I was. I took her to every dark corner, every lounge and bar. And she listened, she followed behind me like a shadow. Once or twice, when we passed a woman being fucked or spanked, usually both, her gentle hands would settle at the small of my back. Even through the black leather I wore, I could feel her trembling. But with desire or fear, I could not say.
Not yet. When I knew we were safe, knew the bastard who’d tried to kill her was not here, only then would I look into her eyes and see the truth. If her gaze held fear, I would take her from this place and whisk her away to the safety of our private quarters in the city where Erik, Rolf and I would see to her needs. Strangely, this place held no pull for me when judged against my mate’s desires. She came first. There had been a time when this club had been a second home to me, a place I belonged. A place where I would not be judged but accepted for who and what I was.
A demanding Dominant that sought control. I needed it almost on a cellular level. A warrior’s life was not guaranteed to be long. Fighting the Hive, many Vikens didn’t return. Somehow, Erik, Rolf and I had all survived, outlived the horrors that engaging and defending our home planet from the insidious Hive wrought. It never ended. Even with us no longer on the front lines, the war continued.
With our service complete, we’d taken roles as the Kings’ guards. While it was less deadly than the front lines, there was still the threat. The VSS. Who needed the Hive when the VSS would destroy our own planet? Life was always tense, constant danger, imminent death. And so the club was an outlet to purge the darkness.
For me, I could wield a crop, a flogger, my hand, or even my cock to give a submissive what they needed. I took control from a lover to ease her burden, to provide a safe haven for her pain or pleasure, her rage or despair. I needed to break my lovers’ boundaries, free them from the cage of their own minds.