[An interlude with Matthew] Some things are going to happen that will seem odd if we don't dip into Matthew's side of things for a bit.

Keep your marital problems to yourself. Don’t even tell a friend, and never a co-worker. Good advice I would have given anyone until recently. You see, I did confide in Jack, my co-pilot, about our marital turmoil. In turn, he betrayed me. Sort of. He got Janice, our crew chief, involved one night while we were held over in Seattle. It went better than expected.

Somehow she got me to disclose the tale of Laura’s betrayal, my vengeance, and our continued ‘adversarial’ relationship. Maybe I shared it all for the same reason I let Janice call me Matt: I trusted her and Jack, too. Maybe bottling it all up, like I had been, lead to just this type of confessional diarrhea. Or maybe Laura’s slutty betrayal had unmoored me so much that I just didn’t trust my own judgement anymore. 

Whatever the case, as I spilled the beans about Laura’s shenanigans and my rather extreme response, I could see Janice’s reaction change from titillation to concern, for me, and then to something approaching smug self assurance, almost judgement.

I didn’t tell her everything, of course. How would she react if she knew I’d pissed on my wife? Or that I forced her to go out in public wearing only a dress and a really fancy vibrator? I could see Janice regarded me differently already and I didn’t want her regard to change to actual judgement. 

A silence fell on our huddled little group, as I finished my tale. Jack looked on somberly, serious for once. Janice, with a slight smirk, spoke first.

“That’s a hell of a story, Matt.” Janice leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “You two sound perfect for each other.”

“Pppttt,” I sprayed diet coke all over the place, “what?”

“Sure, Laura’s a slut and you’re a real asshole...”

“Asshole?” My blood flash boiled. I wanted to hit something.

“Yeah, hear my words: Ass. Hole. Let me finish,” Janice pushed back, undaunted. “You’re still living together. It’s been, what? Two months? From my point of view you both like it, maybe codependently. And I doubt you told me everything. You’re being worse than you say or she’s being a bigger whore and you can’t stand it, I’d bet.”

Ouch. That first bit hit home. Somehow calling Laura a whore stung as well. I guess my guilt showed. 

“Bingo,” Janice gave me a smug look. “Are you going to tell us the rest?”

“No,” I got up to leave.

Janice put a hand on my arm, “Oh, come on Matt. It’s not even that bad, I bet. You think it’s terrible. Maybe Laura does, too. Thing is… you two are pretty vanilla.”

“Vanilla?”

“Yeah, like not very interesting or kinky,” she condescended, then snorted, “It’s not like you pissed on her or something. I’m mean that’s not…”

The air left me, I sat back down. 

“No!” She pulled my arm hard, leaning close to whisper. “You didn’t!” 

I said nothing, which was all the confirmation she needed. I waited for her slap. 

“That is so…” she began.

“Well, I think that’s my cue,” said Jack. “Yup. See you all in the morning.”

Janice didn’t stop him so I got to watch Jack hightailing it with envy. I wanted to run, but Janice’s vice like grip held me still. 

“That’s so hot.” She wore a look of scandalized delight now.

“Uh, what?”

“You know,” She let go my arm, gripping her drink and raising it instead. “The rest of it’s pretty hot, too. Amateurish. But hot. You’re both so lucky.”

“Um,” I had nothing to say to that. Janice had clearly lost her mind. “How are we lucky?”

“Do you know how hard it is to find a Yin to your Yang, sexually speaking?” she asked. Looking off into the middle distance, she added, “took me forever, and I knew exactly the Yin to Yang for. You two just fell into it like a pair of lotto winners.”

“What are you even talking about, Janice? I didn’t fall into anything.”

“O please. You like control and power. It’s a perversion of the concept, but let’s call it Yang. Bare with me. You like treating her badly, whether you admit it or not and you like controlling her. Laura doesn’t mind being controlled, obviously or she wouldn’t put up with your shit. From what you’ve said, she is definitely Yin to your Yang, just like my wife.”

“Wife?”

I looked at Janice with fresh eyes. I knew nothing of her personal life. She wore the ring, so I assumed she was hitched. But a lesbian? Trying to process her words took all my intellect, I’m surprised I didn’t stop breathing.

“Jack’s been holding out on me,” I said, finally. They’d been crew for years before I joined up. “Is the whole crew gay?”

Janice snapped out of her revere and chuckled at me. Obviously not, I decided.

“Oh, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

I snapped my mouth shut, feeling foolish.

“I’m confused...”

“Perceptive. That’s a good sign, Matt. You are confused,” she offered. “I can help that. But I think I need to show you, not tell you.”

“Show me?”

“Yeah, tomorrow night. Do you have leather clothes?” she asked. Before I could answer, she added, “Here, let me give you directions… and instruction.”

This is how I ended up in SOMA the following night wearing black biker leathers. I’d ridden the Panigale in just so I wouldn’t feel stupid getting out of a car in full urban warrior gear. As I locked up the bike, a couple came around the corner from a side street and waved. I barely recognized Janice with so much makeup on and of course I didn’t know her friend at all. 

Janice carried a black duffel bag and wore a long, high collared leather trenchcoat with high heeled patent leather boots. Only her mischievous face and long blonde hair were visible. Her companion, a striking looking short asian woman, wore a deep red velvet cloak with a cowl. I could only see her smiling face..

“Hello, Trinity,” I greeted Janice. 

“Neo. You made it,” she said, laughing.

“Um, yeah,” I stammered. Janice didn’t introduce me to her beautiful friend. Neither girl seemed to think it odd.

Janice lead us further around the corner to the back of the building. RIding up, I had noticed a line in front full of a confusing array of people. Many wore leather or velvet, or both. But some stood in the cold night wearing comfortable looking outdoorsman type gear. The backside had no lines and seemed completely derelict, but Janice lead us to two heavy metal doors with a camera mounted at eye level. She looking into the camera and I heard a buzz two seconds later.

“This is The Church.” She said, as she entered. “It’s a special club.”

“I’m not much for dancing,” I said.

“Not that kind of club, sweetheart,” Janice laughed, a bubbly sound I was used to hearing her drop on first class fliers.

Janice lead me into a sort of locker room with benches but no showers. I could hear thumping EDM in the distance. She instructed me to stow my jacket and shirt in a locker, which seemed strange to me until she did the same with her jacket, revealing her full outfit.

And by reveal, I mean she wore a skintight leather and rubber catsuit covering every square inch of her body except for her breasts which were displayed prominently and quite nakedly. Barbells pierced her nipples, I noticed.

“Uh,” I articulated. I flew in the Navy, so it’s not like I’m sheltered. But seeing my attractive coworker’s chest did give me pause.

“That kind of club,” she said.

“Nice, tits,” I offered, trying to be cool.

“Thanks, I paid enough for them,” she said. It explained the way they seemed to defy both gravity and proportionality. “Want to feel them?”

Jesus, I thought. Yes?

When I did nothing, said nothing, she took my hands gently in hers and placed them on her breasts. Her skin was soft and warm, her breasts firm.

Fuck it, I thought. I squeezed them, jumping down the rabbit hole, allowing Janice’s surreal world to engulf me, for the night at least. 

“Firm,” I said, not really knowing what she wanted me to do now, or what her friend thought of all this.

“Yeah,” she smiled at me and winked, flirting as she commonly did. This, I understood. So I pulled my hands away, sure now that I wouldn’t offend her. Her eyes turned hard as they moved to her friend, “off with it, slut.”

Exactly the kind of words I used with Laura more and more these days. Her friend jumped to it as if she feared Janice. Removing her long robe, she revealed even more of herself than her mistress showed off. Like Janice, her friend wore leather, but much much less. Straps of it criss-crossed her body, forming a kind of harness which hid nothing my curious eye. I could see her tight brown nipples were also pierced, but with rings through them. Her pussy looked as smooth as a bowling ball.

“The Church is a BDSM club,” said Janice, winking at me again. She nodded to her friend, “this is my slave.”

I nodded stupidly, still trying to process all of this. “Not your wife?”

“Not tonight,” she winked, then turned to her naked spouse. She pulled a leash from her bag, attached it to her wife’s collar and handed the end to me. “Slave, lead Master Matthew around. Be at our station on time and try not to fall on any cocks along the way.”

Her wife bowed rigidly. 

“This way, Master Matthew,” she said softly,  walking away from me. I stood stupefied until her leash pulled tight, forcing me to yank her back or follow. I let her pull me along, dog-like. She had a tramp stamp above her very fine ass, I noticed. Two battle axes lying horizontally with hafts cross and art deco designs on the heads. A weird choice. 

I followed her shapely ass down a dizzying set of ruby lit black walled hallways with no ceiling, a sort of dimly lit cubicle farm or rat maze, temporary and movable looking. As we progressed the distant music grew loud enough I could feel the thump in my chest. A female singer was saying something like “Darling come here, fuck me up the rear.” We walked into an open room, about twenty by twenty, where forty or so people were watching a love enactment of those lyrics. A big tattooed nordic looking guy was fucking a tiny redheaded girl in the ass on what looked like a butcher block table. Both were completely naked. The girl was bound, arms underneath her behind her back and ankles strapped to her thighs, knees in the air and toes pointed to the ground.

“I guess the show started already,” said my nameless guide.

Around the room, men and women watched as the couple in the middle fucked to the pounding rhythm. Like Janice and her slave, these people wore leather, lace, velvet, and bare skin. Weirdly, some men wore only white towels around their wastes.

My attention focused back on the arresting sight of the man sliding his cock in and out of the redhead’s ass..

“He could be an extra on ‘Vikings’. It’s like a re-enactment of a viking raid on a Scottish village,” I said. 

“Close,” my host tittered. “I’m not sure who the slut is but Magnus is a viking for sure.”

She seemed mesmerized by the spectacle. I couldn’t blame her. The blonde demi-god slammed his bound victim mercilessly. She in turn thrush back at him as best she could all tied up as she was.

The blond giant pulled out of her ass and moved around to her face. Either he was tall enough or the butcher block table was low enough to allow him to place his balls over her mouth. Eagerly, the redhead tilted her head back to kiss each of them, then pulled them one at a time into her sucking mouth, obviously savoring the experience. I could see her tongue move erotically to bring them into her mouth.

We were positioned to the right side of the couple, for a good view. After letting the slut suck and lap his balls for a few measures of the song, the nord pulled back, sliding his cock down the length of her face. The girl stuck out her tongue tasting and wetting the shaft as it slid past. Once the head was in range she worked her lips and tongue with surprising articulation, hungry to get his shaft into her wet mouth. 

I felt my cock grow hard against my leather pants watching her enthusiastic mouth slowly engulf his hard cock. The girl lovingly suckled and folded the head and the man carefully slid his rather huge cock deeper into her mouth. She arched her back and tilted her head more, allowing more in. I could see her tongue sticking out just a bit to protect him from her sharp cuspids. Soon he had half the length in. There were groans and gasps from the crowd. My host, Janice’s sexy slave, moaned and leaned against me.

The redhead’s throat bulged as she accepted more and more of the Nord’s horse sized cock into her throat.

The crowd clapped and whistled at her victory, then fell hushed as the giant gently pulled the entire length of his cock out of her throat, deflating the bulge. He allowed her to catch her breath, keeping the head of his cock just above her mouth. After getting in a few breaths, I watched in awe as she tilted her her head back again and used tongue and lips to pull his shaft back into her mouth. She sucked the head before he pushed it in and his cock down her throat again. He began thrusting into her gently, fucking her throat. My host groaned again, watching as the Nord’s cock moved in and out of the girl’s throat. The redhead seems completely comfortable handling what looked like a foot of the Viking’s spear. 

This went on for a while until the man pulled out of the girl’s throat. Spit exploded from her and she sucked in air for the first time in what seemed like minutes. The blonde man moved around to position his huge cock at the huffing redhead’s pussy. She tensed as she realized what was about to happen. He smiled and thrust into her, hard. She screamed.

Involuntarily, I stepped toward them, afraid for her. A hand stopped me. I looked down to see my host shaking her head up at me.

“Shh,” she whispered, “you’re sweet, but she doesn’t need your help.”

The redhead kept screaming, but not in agony. At least not in the bad kind. She spoke her first words, begging the man to fuck her harder, calling him a bastard for not fucking her harder. No one needed to be rescued here. The song wound down and on cue the man pumped the slut full of his seed. She cried out with pleasure when he did.

The show ended and the man unstrapped the redhead. He propped her up on unsteady legs and they took a bow while the audience clapped. I could see cum and spit glazed on her thighs, neck, and face. She looked sheepishly delighted by the whole slutty thing. The man looked like a king, even while nude. 

The crowd slipped away, to other treats I soon learned, except for the two of us, the viking, and three pretty girls in leather and lace. A perky blonde, a busty brunette, and a swarthy girl wearing a chiffon outfit right out of the Arabian Nights ran up to congratulate the redhead, jumping up and down like she’d won runner up in a beauty pageant. She smiled at them and they wandered off, chittering to each other.

My host pulled me to the center of the room, toward the giant. Still nude. I followed reluctantly. Dropping acid would be less weird than what happened next. 

“Master Magnus, this is Master Matthew,” said my host to the man.

“Ah, Janice’s friend,” he said, holding out a hand for me to shake, which I did. He smiled at me then turned to my host, giving her the same stern expression Janice had used earlier. He said, “Clean my cock, slut.”

Janice’s wife fell to her knees and began licking and sucking the giant blonde’s horse cock as he engaged me in chit chat like this was normal for him. It probably was.

“Janice told me you were new to all this,” he said to me, completely ignoring the fact that a small beautiful asian woman was sucking his dick more than cleaning it.

“Uh,” I said. Not knowing what else to say, I added, “She said her friend her shouldn’t fall onto any cocks.”

“Grace?” He asked, pushing her head off his cock. 

She looked up at us and smiled, “she said ‘try not to’, it’s no fun unless I’m bad.”

“Janice needs a reason to punish Gracey, here,” explained the blonde, as the slut put her mouth back on his cock. She wasn’t even pretending to lick him clean I noticed. This was faletio, pure and simple.

“She can’t get as much in as the redhead,” I commented. 

“That girl is a pedigreed slut,” he laughed. “Loves cock. Grace here dabbles in it then goes back to her mistress, tail tucked.”

Grace, my host, hummed blissfully. As she blew him, Magnus explained the rules of the club. There were a lot, including dress codes, STD screening, safe words (a concept he had to explain to me), approved binding types, and so on. He called men in towels tourists: non-members without fetish gear. Women had no clothing restrictions but seldom appeared without gear or fetish dress of some type.

“Get ready,” he said, looking down at Janice’s slave..

Grace stopped sucking his cock and sat back on her haunches, knees spread. She cupped her breasts upward and tilted her head back, closing her eyes and opening her rosey lipped mouth just slightly as Magnus grabbed his cock and pumped it at the targets she offered. He grunted, coming. Grace cooed and giggled sluttily as his semen splashed her face and breasts. She open her eyes mid-climax, looking up at him adoringly. She kept them open, unflinching, as he pumped three more ropes of sperm onto her upturned face. When he was done, she resumed cleaning his cock, sucking the dregs.

“Thank you, Master,” she said from below. Her duty observed, Grace stood. “Master Matthew, I should show you the rest of the place.”

I can’t say I was too disappointed when Grace lead me away from the Nordic giant, but her carefree disposition disturbed me.

“Don’t you want to clean up?” I asked. 

“Who doesn’t love a cum walk?” she shrugged.

If anyone thought it was strange for a girl covered in cum, to be leading a tall graying man around the club by a leash, they didn’t show it. Some smiled at Grace, others nodded knowingly to me. It felt oddly... comfortable.

Grace dragged me through a dozens of smaller rooms. Some were themed and some empty. We passed from a deserted room decorated like a Maxfield Parrish painting into a shower room where two soaked, naked men hung chained to a wall. A woman in red and black latex sprayed them with a hose. There was a room with a white cage in the middle where a woman sat on a stool masturebating. Dozens of TVs hung from the cage showing the same woman from every angle. Ten or fifteen people stood around watching her or the TVs.

Many rooms were split in two by a fence or railing to separate the audience from the actors. One of these in particular grabbed Grace’s attention. She called it the Glory Bowl. A plexiglass wall divided the room lengthwise. We, the audience, stood on one side gawking at the redhead from show and her three gorgeous young friends were on the other. The blonde and the busty brunette leaned against the back wall, talking while the redhead and her exotic friend kneeled on the floor against the plexiglass. There were several holes in the glass at various heights. Two men on the audience side were against the glass in front of the two girls, sticking their cocks through convenient holes for the sluts to suck. 

As I watched one of the men yelled. The redhead sat back like I’d seen Grace do just minutes ago and took what looked like her third or fourth load on her pretty face. Her friend, obviously less skilled, had at least one load on her as she worked the cock in front of her for another. As the man finished coming on the redhead’s face, he pulled away and another man from a polite line along the wall waddled up to stick his cock through for the tireless slut to suck.

“Master Matthew,” whispered Grace, “if you want, I could go on the other side and you could use my mouth.”

I could see Grace’s eyes were dilated into black sphere’s and her breathing came in short puffs as she said it. For half a second I considered it. An image of Grace on her knees with my cock in her mouth flashed in my mine. I remembered Laura in the same position just two evenings ago. I smiled at the memory. In the end, I could only think of Laura. I couldn’t do it to her, even if she was an indiscriminate slut and a cheat.

I shook my head. I imagined Laura would love to be on the other side of the plexiglass, though.

“Mistress, never lets me do it,” she whined, stomping a foot. I almost laughed at her. She lead on and as we left the room, I saw the other two sluts come to the divide and kneel. Two more lucky men at a time, then.

We found Janice in a divided room with a small crowd watching her, waiting. She turned furious when she saw Grace. 

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you slut?” Grace shook her head, remaining quiet. Janice turned to me, “Did you do this?”

“God, no! Magnus,” I said. Janice grumbled and took the leash from me.

“Bitch needs a lesson,” she said. “Again.”

She unhooked the leash and began hooking Grace’s harness to wires hanging from the ceiling. She pulled her slave’s arms behind her back and bound them together with padded leather cuffs. Then she hit three buttons to actuate unseen motors in the ceiling, pulling Grace off the ground so her legs hung down freely at a right angle to her torso with her hands straight and pulled about two feet above her ass.

Not satisfied, Janice put cuffs on Grace’s ankles and clipped them to a bar so her legs were spread far apart. From behind, I could see Grace’s ass and very bald pussy, clearly. If she felt embarrassed, the slave didn’t show it. She just hung limply as Janice tied her hair back to her arm cuffs with another leash, forcing her head up so everyone could see Magnus’s cum dry.

Janice took a golf ball from her back and put it in Grace’s hand, then gagged her with a red wiffle ball on a leather strap.

“You want to start?” asked Janice. I had no idea what she meant until she handed me the crop.

I thought about Grace’s behavior since I’d met her, about those four cumsluts behind the plexiglass, and finally I thought about my wife on her hands and knees cocks in mouth and ass. I’d caught Laura fucking two boys from the neighborhood just like it was a scene in this club. My yearning for retribution remained as strong as it had been that night. 

“Yeah, I’ll start,” I said. I pull my arm back in rage, ready to strike the slave’s deserving ass.

“Woah, woah, woah,” said Janice, grabbing my arm hard before I brought it down. She smiled. “She’s a cock hungry slut who deserves punishment, not disfigurement.”

I realized what I had been about to do and who I wanted to do it to, in truth. The thought of truly hurting Laura sickened me. 

Janice took the crop from my limp hand. She brought it down slowly until the end touched her slave’s ass. Grace squirmed as her mistress rubbed the crop up and down one ass cheek. Janice pulled the crop back using just her wrist and brought it back down swiftly making barely a sound but causing Grace to squirm more and moan around her ballgag. 

“Just the wrist. Work up from soft to harder strokes. If she drops the golf ball, it means she’s had too much and everything stops. So take it easy, or the fun ends,” said the blonde mistress, handing the crop to me. I stood transfixed, suddenly aware how uncomfortably hard I was.

With Janice’s instruction, I worked her lover’s ass and thighs with the stiff leather crop. Grace squirmed and screamed but she didn’t drop the ball and the delight on Janice’s face made it clear no harm was being done. I might have had that same look if it were Laura under my strokes and I had to wonder if she could bare this treatment. 

“Now, turn it up,” Janice said. I shrugged, not knowing what to do without going harder and hurting the poor girl. Janice made it clear, “Rub the head of the crop on the slut’s pussy.”

I did as instructed, rubbing Grace’s pretty pussy then whacking her ass, then rubbing more, then watching and waiting. Grace’s reactions made it clear how receptive she truly was to rough treatment. I hit her harder and rubbed her pussy for longer until finally the woman quivered with need. I kept at it for minutes, sometimes trapping her engorged clit with the head of the crop, causing Grace to massive shudder massively and groan.

She seemed to want to say something, so Janice removed her gag.

“Please,” the slave begged. 

Incongruously, at that moment I noticed letters hidden in the art deco decoration of the tattooed axe heads on Grace’s back. One axehead said ‘Slave’, the other, ‘Slut’.

“Please what, Slave?” said the blonde.

“Fuck me, mistress. Fill my pussy!”

“Do you think the slut deserves what she wants?” Janice asked. I stopped mid-strike, considering, then shook my head. She didn’t. Janice glanced down, seeing the bulge in my pants. “You can use the slut if you need to.”

My face got hot. I couldn’t do that. Not with Grace. Sure, I’d just worked the woman into a frothy frenzy with a stick and I liked it, but I couldn’t fuck her. Laura, on the other hand, deserved exactly this. For the first time in a long time, I knew what I wanted and I knew why. I handed Janice the crop.

“Not her,” I said.

Janice smiled knowingly. She reached into her bag and pulled out a strap-on, holding it up. “In that case I think this slave does deserve a reward. Do you want to watch or go fuck your... fuck Laura?”

Sometimes, confiding in your friends really works out. I thanked her and left the scene before Janice could harness up and fuck her wife. Laura had no idea what was coming for her.