Benighted
PART 2
They entered the main club floor through a side door. The room was the size of a hangar, with a wide oval bar at the center of the floor, and spiral metal stairs leading up to a second level. Soft, northern-lights-like streaks swept the floor in random patterns, illuminating several hundred bodies, and fast, lively music thrummed right through Honey’s pussy.
The handler showed her two earbuds, cupped in one palm.
“Conduction headphones; they help hear others.” She hooked the buds over her own ears, then did the same to Honey. “Members’ headphones are also looped to security, so if your limits are being violated, all you have to do is say so, and someone will take care of that. Look around.”
Honey looked, obediently. Among the dancers, she saw swings, strip poles, cages, slides. Some areas held hot tubs, others mud pits. Booths lined the nearby walls, some with curtains draped to block the view, others open, showing writhing, ecstatic bodies inside.
“We have various stations and activities on the dance floor,” said the handler. “You can explore them on your own, later. For now, I want you to understand how members and guests interact.”
She pulled Honey deeper into the crowd. People gave them excited grins, and several brushed Honey’s naked skin, making her moan. She spotted a few other white masks, as well as some blue, green, yellow, black.
“All members wear masks. Guests can go without or wear black ones. Either guests or members can approach you, and you can approach either, as you wish. The only rule is you must respect privacy and everyone’s limits. Most people will ask upfront what your limits are; if they don’t, you must tell them if their suggestions break those...Ah, we’re about to be approached. Pay attention.”
Honey turned, unresisting, as her handler tugged her to the left.
Two young men, both unmasked, paused before them. The taller one, a sandy blonde with several ear piercings, grinned widely and reached to tug on the silk scarf around Honey’s neck.
“Fresh blood, hm? First timer?”
“Yes,” said Honey. He bared a neat, white-toothed grin, then looked to her handler.
“But you’re not new?”
“No,” said the handler.
“Too bad. I like the new ones. Well, we’ll play with your friend, here, while you find someone else to entertain.”
He grabbed Honey’s hand, tugging her toward him and turning her around until his body pressed against her back. She could feel his erection through his jeans, and his chuckle warmed her ear.
“So nice. Let’s show you some of the darker corners, hm?”
“Okay,” said Honey. Under normal circumstances, she’d have never followed this man anywhere. But his suggestion had sunk all the way into her empty head, and she could do nothing but agree.
The handler took her hand—“She and I stay together, tonight."—and the skin contact ripped a needy noise from Honey’s throat.
The tall blond laughed.
“Is that so? And if I only want her?”
“I won’t get in your way,” promised the handler.
The man’s hand cupped Honey’s breast, kneading it roughly. His lips found her neck, and he tilted her head to one side for better access. His other hand snaked down to her naked pussy.
“See how soft she is?” he told the handler, while his hands explored Honey’s unresisting body. “You’re not soft like this. Shouldn’t be wearing that white mask, if you’re gonna be mouthy.”
The handler smiled and said nothing.
“But you’ll do as I say, too, right?” he asked. “Everything I say. That’s club rules. No breaking club rules.”
“That’s right,” she agreed, pleasantly.
His friend, short, dark-haired, and fidgeting uncomfortably in his too-tight jeans, elbowed him. “Dude, you’re supposed to ask their limits, no?”
The blond laughed again. “I prefer to find them out. C’mon.” He turned Honey around, slipping an arm around her waist. “You can have the mouthy one,” he told his friend, and he led Honey away.
As they walked, he whispered in her ear everything he wanted to do to her, asking her if she’d agree. Honey said yes every time. The realization should’ve made her uneasy; but all she felt was... willing. Relaxed. Eager. Blank. Calm. Obedient.
He led her to the edge of the room, to a row of dark booths. As he pushed her into one, Honey noticed the booths had their own lighting: small, green-and-red lights spiraled over the black cloth walls. As her gaze followed the lights easily, her mind opened farther. A small smile touched her lips. This was wonderful.
Her knees a little weak, she tried to sit on the dark leather sofa that made up the booth’s only furniture. But the man grinned and tugged her back up.
“Not so fast. I said I’m going to tie you up, didn’t I? You want that, don’t you?”
Did she? Honey didn’t think she wanted him to tie her up, exactly. More like...she didn’t not want it. Her mind was soft and accepting. When he tugged her to the edge of the booth, where a dark-velvet-clad rack blended into the wall drapes, she had no reason to resist.
He uncoiled her white scarf, circled her wrists with it, and tied them over her head to one of the rack bars.
“Tell me you want this,” he ordered.
“I want this,” she complied easily.
“Spread your legs.”
She did, and his rough fingers spread the lips of her pussy. Honey moaned. It was so...strange. There was no trepidation, no fear, no doubt, no...thoughts. Her mind focused only on his touches: each one stroked her brain directly, dimming her awareness and filling her with only hot, pleasurable darkness.
“Beg,” he ordered, and Honey babbled breathless pleas while his cock teased her leaking pussy. When he pushed himself in, all she could think was—this was the hottest sex she’d ever had.
Her knees buckled as he thrust in, and the scarf dug into her wrists, holding her upright. The blond’s mouth covered one breast, his teeth singing into the sensitive areolas. Honey screamed, but there was no pain. Everything he did sank her deeper into mindless pleasure. She thrashed. She arched her back. She screamed again.
The pressure around her wrists vanished, and she fell to her knees. Hot touches at the base of her neck pushed her backward, into the thick, cloth wall drapes.
“Suck,” ordered the man, and Honey opened her mouth and sucked his cock, desperately eager, shuddering with ecstasy each time it twitched in her mouth—
“Swallow,” he said, and her mind blinked, dizzyingly, like a blinding light had just turned on in utter darkness.
She paused, derailed. Her vision swam. Dazedly, she pulled away.
“That’s...beyond my limits,” she mumbled. “No eating anything.”
The man caught her chin, grinning. “But it’s not beyond your limits to have your limits broken, is it? You want to know how that feels. Don’t you want to try having your limits broken?”
Honey blinked, confusedly, as he moved her chin up and down in pliant nods.
“Tell me you want to have your limits broken,” he commanded.
“I...want...” Honey’s head was still nodding loosely. Something seemed wrong. But she couldn’t say no, could she? “I want to...have...”
“We don’t allow loopholes like that,” said her handler. “She stated her limits clearly. Please respect them.”
The blond had let go of Honey’s chin, but one hand stayed on her shoulder, fingers digging possessively into her flesh.
“I don’t hear her protesting,” he sneered. “Mind your own business.”
“Helping first-timers enforce their safety limits is a handler’s business. That’s why we accompany them while they learn the ropes.” The handler smiled. “Please feel free to continue within her boundaries.”
“And if I don’t want to?” The man’s grin turned predatory. “I want you to help me break her boundaries. You can’t say no, can you?”
“That’s beyond my limits; I won’t break club rules.”
His jaw tightened; then he chuckled. “So tell me your limits, then. So I know what I’m working with. Since you’re ruining my fun here...” He shook Honey’s shoulder. “You sit quietly while I deal with your annoying friend,” he told her. “Don’t move, don’t talk, don’t—don’t do anything. Just watch and learn what happens to mouthy girls.”
“Okay.” Honey relaxed, still on her knees. Distantly, she knew this should bother her. But she’d come here to learn not to be bothered, right? To explore. Say ‘yes’. Be open. Obedient. Blank...
“Dude,” said the blond’s friend. “You’re gonna get us in trouble. They made us sign shit on admittance. You’re not supposed to—”
“Not supposed to what?” The blond laughed. “That’s the point here. You do whatever you want. And I want to know this bitch’s limits, so I can make her sorry she got in the way of my fun. Tell me,” he ordered the handler. “What are your limits?”
She joined her hands behind her back and perched on the arm of the sofa. “Just the one,” she said. “I won’t do anything that breaks club rules or enables anyone else to break the rules.”
He snorted and put a hand under her dress, pushing it up. Underneath, she wore black lace thongs dotted with minuscule glimmering stones, like diamonds.
“So if I tell you to suck off my friend here, you’ll do it?”
“If he agreed to it.” The handler smiled. “Your imagination is limited. You might have benefited from spending less time corralling our first-timers into dark corners to break the rules, and more time exploring the various enjoyments on the main floor. Broadened your horizons a bit, so to speak.”
He growled and grabbed her throat, slamming her back into the wall—
—and the booth’s curtain flew open, admitting a broad-shouldered man and a tall, muscular woman, dressed in form-fitting all-black outfits.
“Trouble, boss?” asked the woman.
Honey’s handler rubbed the base of her throat, as the blond let go and swirled toward the newcomers.
“Our gentleman guest doesn’t like the home rules,” she said. “Please show him to the security office and have a chat.”
He swore. “What the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you? Hey!” He tried to put up a fight, but brawny man grabbed him and restrained him, while the woman walked across the booth and opened a small door hidden behind the wall drapes.
His friend put up both hands and watched the handler, wide-eyed and wary.
“You’re fine,” the handler told him, as security shoved the blond out the hidden door. “You broke no rules. Though I suggest reviewing the conduct agreement you signed upon admittance.”
He gave her a curious look, and her eyebrows arched over the top of her white mask.
“Please feel free to enjoy the club for the rest of the night,” she told him pleasantly. “If you ask the bartenders for a dirty Night Driver, they’ll give you free drinks for tonight.”
The man put up both thumbs and scurried out. The handler turned back to Honey, who had watched the scene motionless on her knees.
“I just wanted to have a good time,” murmured the handler, “and I’m spending tonight playing hall monitor.”
She chuckled, and Honey beamed back, vacantly.
“I’m sorry your first interaction with a club guest was... complicated. But at least you saw how seriously we enforce safety and privacy. Please remember this. Now...”
She leaned over the sofa’s arm to push a button, and a drawer popped out, filled with small water bottles. Another button opened up a similar drawer on the end closer to Honey, except this one contained a small metallic trash bin and a warm towel dispenser.
“We stock all booths with water and basic supplies. You can clean yourself up, if you wish.”
Honey reached obediently for a towel. It was soft and smelled faintly of lavender. She wiped her mouth, then spat up into the bin and wiped again. The handler handed her a water bottle to rinse, then, while Honey finished cleaning herself, pulled down the white scarf and draped it around Honey’s neck once more.
Honey moaned and pressed her face into the woman’s thigh. The contact made her burn all the way down to her core.
“Please,” she mumbled mindlessly. “Please...I need...” She moaned again, rubbing her breasts against the handler’s leg.
“Poor Honey.”
The woman trailed a finger down her temple, then under her chin, applying gentle pressure to tilt up Honey’s head. Honey stared muzzily up at her, blinking against the soft red-and-green lights that chased each other along the booth’s black cloth walls. Her handler was so beautiful. So...perfect...
“Up, dear.” The handler chuckled as she helped the dazed Honey to her feet. “You seem to attract all the rule-breakers tonight. I apologize for that; though I’m not sorry to have finally caught that gentleman...I’d suspected someone was messing around for a while. Well, what shall we do next?”
In response, Honey pressed her body into her again, moaning.
“More. I need...more...Please...”
“Let’s have you approach someone, then. I imagine most folks will be happy to oblige you.” She guided Honey out of the booth, back onto the main floor. “Pick anyone who catches your eye. Once you find them, you have my permission to let them bring you to climax.”
“You,” said Honey immediately. “You. Please...”
“Ah. I’m afraid handlers can’t do that. Not that I’m not...” She licked her lips, a corner of her mouth curving upward. “Flattered. But breaking rules is my limit, as you heard. Now be a good girl and look at the rest of our guests and members.”
Disappointment filled Honey, but she turned, obediently, to study the crowded floor. The sea of limber, writhing bodies swelled about her, drawing her into its rhythm. She blinked, her mind already half-drowned in the music and the motion.
“Choose one you find attractive,” said the handler’s voice in her ear. “One you’d like to experience pleasure with.”
Honey’s body burned. She’d have welcomed pleasure from anyone. But she’d been told to choose, so she looked to the floor for one who most resembled her handler. By the bar, a petite, curvy woman with shoulder-length blue hair applied some sort of glittering lotion to her arms as she swayed to the music. Her face was masked, too, with a deep-blue mask spattered with silver stars.
“Her,” said Honey, and the handler directed her to approach the woman. Honey stopped a few steps away, smiling vaguely as the blue-masked woman looked up and grinned.
“Hi,” said Honey.
“Hello, hot stuff.” The woman grinned, giving her a onceover. “Very nice. New to Benighted , I see? And what are you your limits?”
Honey told her, then asked the same, the woman’s limits etching themselves in her memory. There were very few of them.
The woman sidled up to her, trailing a glittering finger between Honey’s breasts. “And what would you like to do now? I’m all yours.”
“I...I don’t know.” Honey looked blankly to her handler, who waited a few steps away. “I want... pleasure?”
The blue-haired woman cackled. “Don’t we all?” She glanced to the handler, too. “We good here?”
When the handler nodded quietly, she grabbed Honey’s hand, pulling her away from the crowd near the bar, to one of the quieter areas. She pressed her against a tall metal pole too thick to be a dancing pole, and enveloped her in a tight embrace.
“Tell me what made you hot tonight,” she whispered.
“Everything,” Honey said, honestly. Ever since she’d left the chair, her mind had swam in a thick haze of arousal.
“Did you like being touched like this?” The woman’s hand teased her nipples, then brushed over her slick pussy, fingers dancing deftly over her clit. Honey arched into the touch, groaning.
“I don’t think I’ve ever played with a first-timer,” murmured the woman. “Let’s make sure you make some fun memories before you black out.”
Her hand dipped inside Honey, and Honey’s knees buckled. The woman let her slide to the floor, her back against the cold metal. Lips closed around one breast, a warm tongue flicking over her nipple. Honey moaned.
“Don’t come yet,” said the blue-haired woman. “Not until I tell you. We can do better than this.”
“Please,” begged Honey. “Please...I need to...”
“Tell me what which like better. This...” Her fingers teased Honey’s clit again, eliciting another moan. “Or this...” She dipped two fingers into Honey’s pussy, and Honey clenched her thighs and thrust upward, rubbing herself mindlessly against the woman’s hand—
“Or this.” The woman leaned down and put her lips where her hand been, her tongue flicking out to trace light circles over Honey’s clit. Honey screamed, her body convulsing into the hot, liquid need—
“Come,” said a voice in her head, and her body and mind shattered in unison as pleasure exploded at her core, slamming into her in a dark tidal wave that washed away all other sensation and thought, until there was nothing left of her at all.
The handler smiled as Honey’s orgasm scream trailed off into a horse mumble, then died completely. Her lips went slack, her body that had arched violently relaxed into the floor, with just a few last, sporadic thrusts of her pelvis breaking the leaden-limbed languor. Those thrusts were entirely reflexive, no intent or even awareness behind them; all traces of conscious thought had faded out of Honey’s eyes, which now stared glassily at a spot on the high, vaulted ceiling.
Soon, even those last twitches of her orgasm faded. Her breath slowed even farther, and her naked, glistening body stilled utterly.
The blue-masked woman straightened, one hand brushing Honey’s limp form one last time before she glanced up to the handler.
“Sounded like a satisfied customer.” She grinned at the handler’s chuckle. “Do you need help getting her to the private area?”
“No, thank you.” The handler had already called muscle to take care of that. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
The woman’s grin turned coy, and she gave the handler a once-over. “Come back when you’re done chaperoning her? I also enjoy being orgasmed into mindless bliss.”
The handler returned the once-over, and the corners of her lips twitched.
“If you’re still...available, later. I’ll look for you.”
“Mm. Can’t wait.” And she sashayed back out into the crowd, losing herself among the writhing dancers.
One of the security staff helped up Honey, slinging one of her arms around his shoulder while the handler supported her on the other side. Honey made no sign she was aware of being moved. Her chin fell to her chest as they helped her up, and her head lolled loosely on her shoulders while they made their way to the private members’ area, where she could wait in the specially-designated recovery room until she came around.
Aida woke up feeling like someone had given her a two hours full-body massage then dunked her in a pool of high-end champagne. Or maybe high-end weed. Her body was loose and sated and her mind still soaked in the bliss of orgasm.
The best orgasm of her life, hands-down.
“Oh, I’m definitely coming back to this club,” she murmured to herself, and, with an intent grin, she slipped a hand down to her pussy and gave herself another orgasm.