Red velvet ropes separated the watchers from the people engaging in all manner of acts for the audience. I knew the termsvoyeurandexhibitionistin practice, but this club was a visceral lesson on the topic. We were the voyeurs, and the exhibitionists were being beaten, tied up, and fucked for us to see. Some cried out in pain, but most appeared to be enjoying their torture.
I couldn’t look away.
Thinking back to the video I’d stumbled across when I’d looked up Doms, I couldn’t just close a browser and pretend I wasn’t turned on. And what I was turned on by. A blonde woman only a few feet away—with huge tits being tied until they turned purple—wasn’t appealing, but the man doling out the pain had my attention. He was bald, wearing a black kilt, and had a gleeful expression on his face. This was sadomasochism.
My dick swelled at the thought of the older man tying my genitals up the same way. It would hurt, but I liked the way he kept telling the woman what a good girl she was, how she would get to come if only she allowed him to push her further. The way she replied, “Yes, Sir,”in a reverent tone.
Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes to clear my head. I wasn’t there to fuel more deviant fantasies. Remembering my goal, I looked around for Greco and saw him eying me. It was him for sure, and he’d caught me staring.
He smirked like he knew my secret—and not the one about me hunting him for the Russian Bratva—before turning and walking back out of the big open space.
“Blin,” I cursed under my breath and followed him, squeezing past onlookers to get back to the hallway. He didn’t go fast, like he was avoiding me, only moving with confidence, like he had all the time in the world.
Not if I had my way.
Greco entered another area I hadn’t been to yet. It was lit more brightly and with most people talking, though some were still naked. It was a lounge of sorts, but my damn eyes were glued to Greco’s tight ass. I mean—on following my mark.
He went to a water cooler and refilled his cup. It felt oddly out of place for the tall, formal suit-wearing man, with an air of sureness he was important, carrying a plastic cup. He tilted his head back and swallowed the water down in a few gulps, and I found myself staring at the thick Adam's apple bobbing under his salt-and-pepper stubble.
Licking my lips, I cleared my throat and thought through a few options. I could shoot him dead and be out of the room before anyone thought to stop me. Though some of the larger men in the room looked beyond capable of tackling me. Approach and ask to speak outside? Then I would definitely be on camera. Not a good way to prove myself.
Greco tossed the cup and turned my way, eyeing me up and down. It felt very clearly like he was checking me out. Giorgio Greco was into men.
“Blin,” I cursed again. I knew exactly how to get him alone, even though I’d never done it before. Throwing my shoulders and head back, I approached the sexy—I mean, that’s what I wanted him to think I was thinking—man and held out my hand, “Hi.”
“Hello,” Greco took my hand in his bigger grip, holding it somehow firmly and gently at the same time. “I’m George”
“Hi,” I said again, like an idiot. I’d never found anything about Don Giorgio going by George, and I also didn’t want to give my name up so easily. “Is that short for something?”
“Yes,” he smirked again, sharp gray eyes never leaving my face, “Giorgio.”
Confirmation. I’d found my enemy. Now all I had to do was get him alone.
CHAPTER NINE
GEORGE
Returningto the X Club had been even better than expected. Knowing what I might see and not worrying so much about if I’d be recognized—Felix and Maksim already had—meant I could enjoy myself.
I’d already learned so many new kinks, and how my skills of interrogation could be utilized, but I also got to see another sounding scene and rope play. The tops were skilled and clearly curated to show visitors what was possible.
After wandering back into the dungeon, I noticed a cute, blond guy come in right after me. While he watched the demonstrations, wide-eyed in his suit and tie, I watched him. The blue pinstripes and gold cufflinks were flashy and seemed more appropriate on a stockbroker. Despite him looking too young for me, too young to be in the club even, I was drawn to his innocence.
The boy probably wasn’t aware of his partially open mouth as he barely blinked. A hand moved to his crotch, and I hoped it was to give himself a squeeze. Following his gaze, I saw it was the man who’d caught his attention, not the nude woman on display. Good to know.
When he finally stopped watching the show and looked around the room, I felt a pang of sadness, guessing he was there with someone. So when he focused on me, I couldn’t help smiling. Blinking a few times as if to clear his head, he didn’t look away. Something in his gaze was off, though he was beautiful. When the boy didn’t approach or smile back, just kept staring, I wondered if I was being a creepy old man.
Leaving the dungeon, I made my way to the lounge for water. I remembered there was a mirror there on the wall and wanted to check I didn’t have anything going on with my face. While filling my cup, I found nothing out of place. He probably wondered why an old guy like me was there on visitor’s night when the rest of the older gentlemen in attendance had partners and toys with them.
Gulping down the cool water, I was about to leave when I found the blond standing nearby, looking my way again. I had to know. But before I could approach him, he crossed the few steps between us and held out his hand.
“Hi,” he greeted, and it was a little higher in pitch than I expected, causing him to clear his throat.
“Hello.” I took his soft hand in mine, savoring the warm, smooth touch. “I’m George.”
“Hi,” he said again before cursing in what sounded like Russian under his breath. He bit his plush, pink lower lip. “Is that short for something?”
“Yes,” I smiled, hoping this was flirting, “Giorgio.”
