Chapter One
Six Weeks Ago
I'mtired.
Not just a typical tired, but the one that seeps into the bones and stays for days. The kind of tired that doesn't go away with sleep. I've tried everything that my money can buy, which isn't a lot. I'm barely making ends meet, keeping my head above the water. I've been on my own since I was seventeen. Almost six years ago. Somehow I've made it work. I'll continue to make it work.
Making it work includes finding a place to sleep tonight. I have an apartment. Just signed the lease last week. I'm… still furnishing it. The couch that was included is lumpy and there are more stains than I feel comfortable sitting on. The previous tenants left a bedframe but no mattress. I'm working on it.
Sunny View Apartments is so far from its namesake. It's open faced apartments that all share the same balcony for each floor. The apartments are three sides of a square and all face a courtyard that is less than ideal to look at. The grass is dead from the cold weather and the bird bath that sits off centered is empty and looks like it hasn't been cleaned in years. The security gate at the entrance doesn't even lock properly half the time.
The apartment has a crack in the window sill that lets in a cold draft and I'm down to just two thin blankets. I'm tired of freezing each night. I check the cash in my pocket once more, looking at the screen on the phone. I'm using the local library's Wi-Fi right now, trying to navigate the site on a flip phone. The website says that the closest club to here has an entrance fee of forty dollars. I have sixty.
I weigh the pros and cons of spending that much money. It's cheaper than any hotel in the city and I can stretch twenty dollars to last me at least two more weeks until the next government check is deposited. That will help pay for my rent and then, hopefully, I'll have a normal paycheck coming. I have an interview at a coffee shop next week.
Just the thought of having a place to hang out, grab a drink, and possibly head home with someone that has a house with heat is enough for me to make the decision. And a bed. I pocket my phone and money and head down the street. I run the directions through my mind on repeat so I don't get lost. The weather is brutal this time of year and the thin jacket and oversized t-shirt isn't helping. My jeans have a hole in the knee from years of wearing them. They're my favorite pair. It doesn't help to keep my body temp regulated.
The simple building comes into view and I pick up my pace as a gust of wind swoops down the street. I can feel the cool air against the back of my neck and pull the hood closer around my face. When I step into the lobby of the club, I'm greeted with a rush of warmth and sigh at the relief.
"Welcome to Club Thrive," the man behind the desk says. He's shirtless, thick hair across his chest, wearing a blue harness with loops and buckles all around it. I try not to gawk, but damn. Older men are just… swoon-worthy. This guy, despite his size and bear-ness, is definitely a submissive. I'm not judging or anything, but there's a man next to him that is attaching a leash to one of the loops. I'm inferring. "Are you a member here?"
"No, just a one time pass please."
I fill out the appropriate paperwork quickly, two signatures on forms stating privacy, safety, and liability. I fill it out as unattached. The guy takes my money and gives me the quick rundown on the place. There are floors to this place, hallways that lead to private rooms. They can be reserved for up to four hours at a time. Anything longer has to be approved by the front desk staff and reserved ahead of time. Fairly standard in my brief knowledge and experience of kink clubs like this.
I don't indulge often, but I've been known to watch videos of varying kinks. I don't have a preference; barely have experience with other men. Definitely prefer men, though. I've known about my sexuality from a young age, something that my mom and dad weren't all too pleased about. She kept me around, though, because I was the one that watched my younger siblings. Made sure they had dinner at night, breakfast in the morning, got to school, did their homework, everything Mom and Dad should have done. I hated leaving them, but after the last incident I couldn't take it anymore.
I push the thoughts of my younger siblings away and look around the place. I'm definitely underdressed in jeans and a too-big shirt. Other patrons are in varying degrees of undress. There's a couple sitting at one of the sofas. The man is dressed immaculately, screaming 'I have money', while his partner is curled up next to him with their head resting on their master's knee. The second guy is wearing only pants, a set of dog ears, and a tail. I'm not into pet play, but I do see the appeal in the submissiveness of it.
I continue along, aiming to grab myself a drink. The entrance fee covers two drinks and I fully plan to use both. Alcohol is a rare occurrence on my budget and two drinks will be enough to give me the start of a buzz. I pass a hallway with a line of people. I see them disappearing into a room one-by-one. There's a large window where those waiting are watching. I'm tempted to stop and see what it is, but something else catches my attention first.
A man in a bright yellow onesie and white shorts that barely hide his ass. He has a pacifier in his mouth and is holding the hand of a woman a couple inches shorter than him. Her other hand is in his hair, fixing it so it's not falling in his face. I'm not close enough to hear what he says, but she smiles and gives him a kiss on the cheek before they disappear down a second hallway.
I've come across age play before, but like the pup play, it isn't something I think I'd like. Granted, I've gotten off to many videos where the bottom screams out for his Daddy. And yeah, maybe sometimes they're sucking their thumb or a diaper had been involved at one point. My interest is piqued, sure, but I don't follow them. I continue to walk around, toward the bar on the opposite end where I walked in.
There are two bartenders. The one that asks me what I want is a tall brunette woman with shocking green eyes. She's beautiful, in an objective way. She's wearing some type of suit that reflects the lighting around the room. Leather, maybe? I can't tell since the lights are much dimmer by the bar.
"Can I just get a beer? Whatever you have is fine." I present the drink ticket and she smiles, taking it and walking away. Thirty seconds later, a cup is set in front of me. I thank the lady bartender.
"First time here?" she asks. Her voice is lovely, warm. She leans her body over the bar, resting on her elbows. If I were a straight man, the view of her cleavage would probably do something for me. Instead, I keep her eye contact.
"Here, yes. Kink clubs in general, no." I take a sip of the cold liquid. It's not my favorite type and she must be able to tell by the expression I pull.
"If you didn't like a certain kind, you shouldn't say whatever is fine." She laughs and goes to take the drink away. I hold firm to it though. I don't know if this would be wasting my ticket or not.
"It's not my fav, but it's fine." I take another sip. It'll have to be fine.
"I can't watch this," she says. She swipes the drink from me expertly without a single drop spilled. She continues to talk as she dumps it and starts pulling bottles and a fresh glass with ice. The bar top isn't crowded so I can hear her easily. "My patrons leave this bar happy or they sit their ass right down until I find something they like. I'm not known to leave someone unsatisfied."
She flicks her eyes at me and I can hear the double entendre in her voice.
"I'm flattered, but you're barking up the wrong tree." She purses her lips for a half second before shrugging.
"Can never tell with those that come in. Worth shooting my shot at anyone as cute as you."
I blush at the compliment. I've been told I look older for my age. I'm only twenty-two but I've been mistaken for up to thirty. My skin is naturally darker, thanks to the Puerto Rican genetics passed down from one side of my family, and I can grow a beard. It's dark, nearly black, and definitely makes me look years older than I am. I'm clean shaven right now. The years of having to parent my younger siblings must give me that vibe. I'm not sure.
"I appreciate it," I say. She slides a new glass in front of me. I haven't paid attention to what she put in this. It's a green color with a pineapple on top. "What is this?"
