The Club
#4 of Notebook
(Length warning: this story is over 11k words.)
(Content note: I think the tags make this story sound scarier than it really is, but they are, in fact, accurate.)
(Main characters borrowed from Geneseepaws with permission.)
The Club
"I figured I should warn you," Midnight added, as the two of them approached a small, windowless brick building, "all those rumors you've heard about me?"
"Yeah?" Michael asked nervously, standing right behind him.
Midnight paused for effect. "You're about to find out how many of them are true. Let's go."
Smirking at the expression he imagined must be on the crow's face, Midnight pulled open the solid steel door out front, revealing an entryway entirely different from the exterior. It was a small glass booth where a tall Shiba Inu dressed in red was protecting the inner doors to what appeared to be a swanky restaurant at first glance.
Midnight knew the drill. "My card," the black jaguar stated smoothly, pulling it out of his wallet. "And he's a guest of mine."
The dog looked at the card, gave it back to him, and advised, "Just be aware that you will be held responsible if your 'guest' disrupts the atmosphere."
"Understood." Midnight bowed curtly to him, and took Michael's wrist.
The dog grabbed the brass handle and stepped out of the doorway, pulling it open.
What was a dull hum moments before rushed over them, turning into the roar of several dozens loud conversations. It was also accompanied by a blast of air that brought a familiar smell to Midnight, itself part of the atmosphere. It was musky, but not unpleasant; it reminded him of a cheap deodorant.
The lights were pretty low, and the cacophony of voices were focused mainly on the bar on the right wall. There, things were being constantly exchanged and traded. It seemed more like betting than serving drinks. The only other thing in the room of note was a stage on the back wall, which was dark and curtained.
"Welcome," Midnight purred, "to The Club."
Michael seemed to look around with a mixture of awe, confusion and squinting. "Um... this is where I will figure out who I am?" he asked, getting over the noise by talking with his normal speaking voice directly at the jag's left ear.
Midnight looked at him to find an energy in his body and a gleam in his eye. He guessed Michael was eager, but nervous -- and why shouldn't he be?
"Think of it like this," Midnight suggested, talking to Michael in the same manner over the din. "I'm taking you to a restaurant in town which has a very exotic menu. You may know what you do and don't like, but a lot of it does not apply to this kind of food. It is a place where you can indulge your sense of adventure."
Midnight kept looking around for a table while he explained this. After he'd spoken, he heard Michael's feet shuffle on the heavily-lacquered floor.
"If you're not in the mood for adventure..." Midnight prodded gently.
"No no, I'm fine," Michael stated, voice lifting a bit, "I can handle it. I need to, uh, try something new."
"Are you sure?" insisted Midnight, still detecting considerable hesitation. "Because if you can't enjoy the 'food', you'll never know what you really like."
"I'm sure. Really. Just nervous."
"That's to be expected," reassured Midnight. "Close your eyes, and just smell the air for a moment."
Michael closed his eyes, and took a breath of the air. He seemed to be doing it because he was told to, not because he was interested.
"What do you smell?"
Michael didn't answer.
"That's not a bar, is it?" continued Midnight. "That's not a restaurant. That's the smell of pure lust. Or, at least as close as they can get it in a bottle."
Michael took another breath of it.
"That smell is encouragement to the patrons. It wants them to have fun. And the noise? That is noise for hiding beneath. For allowing you to express who you are to whom you trust without a sense of judgement -- something you told me was why you ran out on your father."
Michael opened his eyes. "My father didn't care who I dated," the crow insisted. "He only cared about whether I took up the family business or not."
"That's what I meant," Midnight clarified. "I knew that from the first time I saw you in the gym: you're not a finance geek. You're a dancer. And that's as much a part of you as whether you prefer males or females."
Michael couldn't help but smile a bit.
"Anyway," concluded the jag, "let's find a table instead of standing here all evening, shall we?"
Michael nodded, and allowed the jag to lead him inside.
It was impossible to get between all the tables in the middle, which were organized more into rows than columns, so Midnight veered sharply right, toward the bar. When they went past it, Michael gave a long look to the large, well-lit "scoreboard" above it, keeping track of many "transactions" through a system of color coded squares.
The length of time the crow looked at it made Midnight realize that perhaps he had more explaining to do that he initially thought; some of the things being traded might scare the bird off if they were not introduced properly.
Midnight soon picked a table near to the bar to make sure Michael could see what was happening, but not so close that everyone walking by would bump their chairs. The table was adorned only with a white tablecloth, a small, bulbous alcohol lamp, and a straight-lined, steel card holder in the center without a card.
Michael got himself situated quickly in his chair, then looked down at the tiny flickering flame of the alcohol candle, and asked, "Okay, now what? Do we wait to be served?"
"No. We wait for you to look at the menu."
"What menu?"
Midnight smirked. "The entire room, almost. Pick anyone you want, if you could have them."
Michael looked at him askance. "Have them?" he repeated.
"I think you know what I mean," Midnight replied. "Pretty much anyone coming here at this hour is available -- or at least, is willing to be for a short time if you can pique their interest."
"Wow," Michael sighed, eyes searching the room aimlessly.
After waiting a good 10 seconds, Midnight was getting impatient. He concluded Michael didn't know what to make of all this, and so decided to give the bird a push.
He looked at Michael with a rather hard glare, until the crow looked back. And then Midnight growled, "c'mon, Michael. Show some of that imagination! Think about what you'd really like. It's out there! Now go and find it!"
The jag leaned forward, and added: "Are you a crow... or a chicken?"
That definitely got Michael's nervousness to ratchet up a bit. "I-it's just," he answered with a stutter, "I don't know anybody."
"Well that's easy to fix," replied the jag calmly. "Go up to the bar back there, and tell them you don't know anyone but you want them."
Michael's jaw dropped. "What!?"
Midnight growled -- and couldn't help but smile a bit. "Unless you have a better idea."
That got the crow off his seat. Midnight watched him nervously get up, and stiffly step over to the bar. He said something one of the bartenders, and as Midnight expected, was handed a dark blue index card and a small stack of white poker chips back.
Michael, however, didn't know what to make of the items as he brought them back to the table. Midnight took the card from Michael without resistance, and put it in the card holder. A moment later, the scoreboard updated accordingly: 8 white was added to the tally of chips in circulation on the right, and 1 was added to the dark blue squares on the left.
"It's a simple system," Midnight explained. "Either you walk around and 'spend' those, or you advertise yourself with the card, and they will come to you. Those chips are 'favors' that you're willing to ask someone for. I mean, you would like 'favors' from incredible fursons, wouldn't you?"
That, at last, got him to smile, even though his eyes looked downward with a bit of embarassment. "Yeah," he answered.
"Well there you go. Everyone available is up on the scoreboard, if you want to look. Or you can just sit and wait."
Michael turned around, and could barely read it. "But... what are all the colors?"
"Those are what kind of thing that is on offer. We don't want fetishes to get crossed up, now would they? That would be pretty upsetting."
"Fetishes?" nervously asked Michael.
Midnight sighed. "Oh come on. You know what a fetish is."
"Yeah," he answered, voice getting quieter.
"That's why I've been talking about restaurants and menus this whole time. Different colors mean different 'dishes'. Not everything turns fursons on the same way, so they've picked different categories for different colors. You've got white chips, which is just 'plain old' stuff, for exam--"
"Hi there," interrupted a rather tall goat who was suddenly towering over the two of them.
Midnight looked up. "Hello there. This blue card here is for my friend, Michael."
"Hello Michael," he offered. Michael took his hand and shook it.
"And before you ask," Midnight concluded to Michael, "blue card means take it slow. He's new here," explained the jag.
"Well I'm Edgar, and trust me, you'll like it around here. I mean, it's the best kept secret ever! So what d'you do?"
"I'm an acrobat," Michael answered. Midnight was pleased to see his eyes were not wandering anymore, and had locked straight onto the other male.
"Clothed, mind you," added Midnight with a smirk. "I think he would make more money without 'em, though."
Michael was a little taken aback, but recovered smoothly. "Uh, yeah, so I've heard, but, I just want people to be impressed, not drooling the entire time. Seems a little... weird."
"Welllllll, I don't think that's really a problem," offered Edgar with a smile, as he took Michael's right hand with both of his. "Some people just appreciate the athlete body in different ways." He locked eyes with the bird, and the hand that Michael had just shaken started stroking the feathers along Michael's arm.
"Um... I see," Michael answered with a smile, and half a chuckle. Midnight suspected that chuckle was Michael's nerves talking, but since his eyes never left the goat, the jag presumed the bird was still enjoying it.
"Well, you two seem like you would like to get to know each other," purred Midnight, standing up. "I'll get something to drink, and be back in a moment."
Midnight got up, and went over to the bar; not only to get a bottle of tea, but also to get a pile of his own chips. It only took the lion behind the bar a moment to get the chips for him, but Midnight decided to linger a bit, and give Michael some breathing room.
Midnight sat sipping his tea for a couple minutes, until he looked over casually -- and found Michael was once again alone. He went over to ask what happened, but before he got within earshot, saw that he now had a purple chip in addition to his stack of white.
"So, how'd it go?" Midnight asked.
Michael seemed quite conflicted. On one hand, he had a warmth dancing about his face; on the other, his body seemed quite stressed about what just happened. "He's... done," he answered, holding up his purple chip.
"He just wanted to rub you, I take it?"
Michael nodded.
"Well some people can really go for touching -- the most common type is frotting. Anything touching related is purple, and that's an example of a milder fetish."
"If that's all I have to do, I'd ask for more guys like that!" Michael said with a grin.
"You can't." Midnight said, getting his own grin as Michael's deflated. "Because everyone would have too many chips all the time."
"Well hang on, where'd you get yours, then?" Michael asked, looking down at the pile of almost 20 in three different colors.
"If you become a member, you can ask them to keep an account."
"So what fetishes are the colors?"
For the first time in the entire evening, Midnight's smooth answers were stymied for a moment. He opened and closed his mouth several times. Each time, he could feel Michael's curiosity getting stronger.
"Based on your feelings so far," he finally stated with a bit of edge in his voice, "they are for things you shouldn't be considering yet."
"Which are?" Michael asked with a smirk.
"I'll tell you later," Midnight snarled.
"What ever happened to 'freedom to be who you are'?" shot back Michael playfully. "Won't you tell me who you are?"
Midnight glared at him. "I know who I am," he snapped, unable to help but let a bit of his frustration flare, "and you don't. I'm not telling you because I'm trying to avoid shoving it all in your face at once, which would make you run away screaming."
Michael's face visibly shifted. Midnight thought he'd made his point.
"Put it this way Michael: what does BDSM unpack into?"
Michael leaned over, and lowered his voice. "Bonda--"
"I can't heaaaar yooooou," sang out Midnight loudly over the noise.
"Bondage and --!" Michael gulped, before he could finish at a reasonable volume, still having to lean forward to be heard over the crowd. "-- and Discipline."
"Yes. And?"
"Domination/Submission."
"And? This is the important one."
Michael paused, and thought about it as he said it aloud. "Sadism and ... Masochism."
"Now, can you see why I want to avoid scaring you?" asked with as much gravity as he could muster.
Michael was taken aback. "Well if that's what this place is, you can save your time, I quit. I don't want to be tied up!"
Midnight sighed. "It's not that simple. There's a lot going on here. Get rid of a white chip or two, and you'll see."
Michael looked down at his chips, handled one in his hand, seemed about to get up and leave with a look of determination, but then paused. He turned drew a breath as if to yell, but then just blew it out again. He took another breath, then sighed. "How do I get rid of these, again?" he asked the jag.
"You walk around and either ask about or offer something you like."
"Right," Michael sighed, and stood up -- back stiff as a board.
"And make sure you actually cum this time!" Midnight called as the bird walking away, getting him to cringe a bit, and the jag to smile.
Midnight stayed put for a moment, making sure Michael knew he was getting space. It was true that the bird could just walk out the door, never to enter again; but if Midnight had him pegged right, Michael wouldn't do that. Whatever strange mixture of anxiety and excitement Michael was feeling, Midnight was sure he would work through it. It drew him here, and the jag felt certain it would keep him here.
In the meantime, Midnight decided to entertain himself. He took the dark blue card down from its holder since he was looking for something else. Without too much contemplation, he decided he wanted sky blue, and looked up at the scoreboard. The supply showed five tables. So, he got up went looking for one of those tables with his stack of sky-blue chips, sipping his tea on the way.
The first blue card he saw was at a table hosting two snow leopards, who were very close in appearance. They both wore tank tops, were on the lanky side, and were talking to each other quietly. The main differences were green versus blue eyes, two or three inches in height, and one of them had a pendant around his neck. Whichever one put up the card, he would start a bidding war with the other.
He sauntered across the floor smoothly, coming up behind the one with blue eyes, and waited until his companion paused the conversation to ask loudly: "Am I interrupting?" He let his stack of sky-blue chips drop between his fingers with a clinking sound to punctuate the point.
Green eyes stopped talking and looked up at him. "Oh!" he offered with a smile, "not at all, please have a seat." Blue eyes took a brief and nervous look over his shoulder at the jag before turning back around.
"Thank you," Midnight purred, as he sat down in an empty chair next to green eyes, looking at his necklace. "And if I may say," he added, "that is a lovely necklace." In fact, Midnight found it quite exciting; it was a gold and silver version of a rare kind of chip with a special symbol on it: "ask me for anything."
"I know," the snow leopard replied coyly with with a smooth smile. "I'm a lot of fun, I hear."
"And how much does that fun cost?" Midnight asked, looking at the blue eyed one.
"Well, you'll have to buy him too."
Midnight's heart skipped. They weren't in a bidding war, but came as a pair!
"Done! How much to let me 'own' you two for a couple hours?"
"Hmmm... I think that stack there will do it," green eyes replied nonchalantly. Blue eyes kept sweeping over the jag's body like some sort of scanner, but paused to look at the stack of chips and nod.
"You've got a deal," Midnight stated triumphantly, putting all his chips down. "Now come back over to my table, please."
Both of them immediately got up, blue eyes taking the chips and green eyes taking their light blue card. "May we turn in the chips, master?" green eyes asked.
Midnight paused a moment to let that term linger. No matter how often he'd heard it in the course of play, it felt like a caress of his ears. "Do that on the way," he instructed with a gesture, "I'm at a table over there."
"Yes, master."
Midnight returned hastily to his table. He noticed that Michael was still gone; a good sign, he presumed. He returned the rest of his own chips to the bar, and arrived back at his table about the same time the other two did.
"So what are your names?" Midnight asked as he sat down between the two of them. He found himself looking from one to the other, but was a bit more drawn to blue eyes. He also was enjoying a sense of erotic tension that was fast developing.
"I'm Josh, and this is Brendan, Master," introduced green eyes with a bow.
"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Midnight," purred the jag. "And I'll... take good care of you. Why don't you --" He looked over at blue-eyed Brendan as he said it. "-- come sit in my lap? Don't worry, I don't bite -- without warning."
Brendan quietly got up, wearing a rather shy smile, and came and sat in his lap. Midnight didn't care how much of it was personality and how much was an act; it was quite arousing.
"May I sit in your lap next, Master?" asked Josh.
"I'll let you know. Instead, I'd like to tell me about yourself a little. For instance, how did you earn this?" Midnight asked, reaching over to brush his necklace with one finger. He let it hang a moment before releasing it hard enough to bump against Josh's chest.
Josh smiled proudly. "Oh it took quite awhile," he began. "I had to work for it like everyone else. But I can tell you the defining moment: there was a time when I got up on that stage up there, horribly nervous, and put up the worst act ever. I was determined to prove myself, so I acted as a toilet for two of my good friends."
"Oh wow," purred Midnight, "that's definitely worthy. And you didn't despise the taste?"
"We'd agreed ahead of time that they would go on a rather strange diet to make sure it looked much worse than it was," the leopard explained. "It would take a whole lot for a stranger to convince me."
Midnight nodded -- and then saw Michael heading back toward him, a rather distant smile on his face. "Josh," Midnight suddenly barked, "don't scare this rather green friend of mine, I lead. And sorry Brendan, but lap time is over."
Brendan seemed slightly disappointed, but did sit back in his chair before Michael saw them.
Once Michael was in earshot, Midnight addressed him before the bird could speak. "I take it you found someone?" he asked.
"Yeah," sighed the bird contentedly. "But, uh, who are your new friends?"
"Oh, them? I just picked them up a while ago for 6 chips. That's Josh, and this is Brendan. He doesn't talk much."
"Pleased to meet you, Michael," politely stated Josh.
"Likewise, I'm sure," answered the bird.
"I was just talking with Josh here about the sort of things he's done in the past," Midnight said, apropos of nothing, "and he thinks you should definitely try your acrobatics routine with your clothes off."
Midnight looked over at Josh, and he didn't miss a beat. "I've been up on stage before, and I find the admiration you get to be the best thing ever."
"Um... I'll... take your word for it," nervously replied Michael. "I'm a bit... well, I do acrobatics mainly for me. I mean, it's great to get a round of applause, but... um... lusting is..."
"It's okay," added Midnight, "you can say it: creepy."
"Yes," Michael nodded, seeming to relax a bit.
"Exhibitionism isn't for everyone," Midnight explained to him. "Many like watching more than being watched, particularly when it comes to sex. There is a reason, after all, that this club has private rooms, instead of just having everyone bang at the table."
"Where are those?" asked Michael, face becoming more interested.
"I'll tell you later," Midnight pushed back, "when you want one for its approved purpose. At least you seem to have had some fun. What'd you do?"
Michael didn't answer, but looked down at the table. He was smiling, and possibly blushing again.
"If you don't want to say, fine," Midnight continued smoothly. "Just tell us: was it a male or a female who took your chip?"
"Female," he answered.
"Oh, are you bi?" asked Josh out of the blue.
"Yeah, a little," answered Michael.
"Well good for you," replied Josh with a smile. "Do you think I'm attractive?"
"Alright, Josh, that's enough," calmly stated Midnight. "I'm the one who's given you chips."
"I know, master, but all we're doing is sitti--"
"'Master'?" interrupted Michael, mild shock appearing on his face.
Midnight was a bit surprised at Michael's naivete. He turned, and simply answered, "remember what those letters stand for? B-D-S-M? Some like ordering others around, some like being ordered around. Understand?" He added a growl to his voice to emphasize the last word.
"Okay, okay, I didn't mean anything by it, I'm... just surprised, that's all."
Midnight let the pause linger, to see if Michael would come up with a new subject. Unfortunately, the subject he picked was not one Midnight thought would be any better. "Say, uh, nice necklace. Is that a chip?" he asked Josh.
Josh grinned, and looked over at Midnight.
Midnight sighed, and rubbed his forehead, looking at the table. That was definitely not the next thing to explain. "Why didn't Miss Kelly write a training manual?" he asked aloud rhetorically while he gathered his thoughts.
"May I make a suggestion, master?" whispered the nearly-silent Brendan into Midnight's ear.
Midnight answered in normal volume, "Please suggest away, Brendan."
"Perhaps we could see what Michael thinks of a Mistress Nadeen production."
Midnight made sure to exaggerate the growth of his smile. "Brendan! That's a good idea! Everyone," Midnight announced, "time for dinner."
Midnight immediately got up, went to the bar, grabbed several dinner menus, and hastily handed them all out upon his return. Michael seemed a bit perplexed, but nevertheless started looking over the menu of actual food.
Midnight waited a moment for Michael to look it over, before he asked Josh, "do you know what the show will be tonight?"
Josh couldn't have known what Brendan whispered, but still picked up the thread just as quickly as before. "Another play by Mistress Nadeen, but that's all I've heard."
Midnight wasn't sure which way the comment would go, but he made it anyway: "Hmm. I hope it won't scare Michael."
"What's in her plays?" asked Michael immediately, nervousness not in his face, but betrayed by his voice.
Midnight smiled at his reaction. "Well, it's sort of... concept art," Midnight nonchalantly replied. "It's always very off-the-wall, and incredibly arousing at the same time. Last one I saw was about voyeurism, with mirrors in strange places to make the audience feel like they were seeing a set of vignettes play through cameras."
"Vignettes with a lot of fighting and banging," added Josh with a smirk.
"That's why the stage over there is curtained over and dark," Midnight concluded. "It's all a secret until showtime. She gets into all sorts of interesting things. Maybe some of those things the chips were for," he added as an afterthought.
"I guess we'll find out," Michael answered, before going back to the menu.
Silence fell. Midnight couldn't tell if the bird was concentrating, or was resigned. Before he could figure it out, Josh broke him out of it.
"May I say something?" Josh asked, facing Michael but glancing in Midnight's direction.
Midnight was a bit suspicious, but he thought it would be unfair to say no. He nodded.
"Michael, I can tell you're not getting into this. That's okay, everyone has trouble at first. They all say they feel pushed into things."
Michael looked up from the menu. Midnight presumed that was a sense of recognition.
"Let me tell you a secret: half the stuff I do -- and a lot of the more perverted stuff that goes on -- are done by a tiny fraction of our members. Sure, they get the shows and the chits, and do the really kinky stuff, but that's just because they are the most difficult to satisfy. Trust me: there's a lot of simpler, more familiar stuff going on too.
"This isn't the miliary. Don't feel you have to 'conform' to weirdness. If you want the easy stuff, no one will think less of you."
"But aren't here to figure out who I am?" Michael asked, looking over at the jag.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you have to push yourself too hard. Okay?"
"Okay," answered the bird. His stress seemed to drop, but not by much.
Midnight was quite surprised by this display of hospitality, and pleasantly so. "Thank you, Josh," he offered with the most genuine and least playful smile he'd shown all evening.
"And Michael?" Josh added, "I think Mistress Nadeen's productions are perfect for this. It's a way to try something new, but from a safe distance. Just pick a character, and become them. Really empathize. See what your emotions do. Are you afraid? Are you drawn in? Just stay focused, and feel."
Josh looked over at Midnight for approval. Midnight nodded again.
"I'll try," Michael affirmed, though he still sounded unsure.
Dinner was subsequently quiet. Midnight's direction to Josh and Brendan was "just eat", and it took him quite some time to eat the rather large hamburger that he'd ordered. The only thing he did to pass the time while eating was to play tag with the eyes of his two snow leopards -- seeing how much he could stare at them without them staring back.
It was well after Midnight finished eating, and was starting to get restless, that the lights went from low to off, and the stage lights came up.
"It's starting," Midnight said to Michael in a stage whisper as the audience conversations hushed, "remember: empathize."
When the curtain rose, the stage displayed a rather stark empathy choice indeed. On the left was a naked, bound and ball-gagged male cheetah hanging by his wrists from a fake stone wall. On the right was a sunny beach (or as near as one could be on stage) with a lioness and a tigress sitting at a table under a large umbrella. Since the two scenes' characters did not seem to know each other existed, Midnight presumed there was an invisible wall between them.
"I don't really care where he is," said the lioness cheerfully, "I'm on vacation!"
"Yeah, easy for you to say," replied the tigress.
"It is! And I just said it!"
"Lisa calls me every day. She's just so paranoid."
"Not at all like my Charlie. He's just a dear."
It was around this point, as the dialog continued, that two large canines -- difficult to see in the red lighting of the dungeon half, came on stage and stood on either side of the cheetah, who looked nervously back and forth at them with his eyes. Soon, one of them got a tray of tools, picked up a syringe needle, and injected the now-squirming cheetah with it.
"Ow!" Immediately blurted the lioness, interrupting the tigress, rubbing her shoulder and gritting her teeth. "What was that!? Strange!"
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I think a bee just stung me or something. Anyway, as I was saying..." And the conversation continued on, while the cheetah was injected with something.
Midnight glanced over at Michael, and found him watching so intently, he'd stopped trying to finish his potato chips. He certainly seemed to be doing his best at empathizing, even if the jag couldn't tell with who.
As the scene continued, that empathizing became more and more expensive. The wolves poked the cheetah with pins, making him -- and his lioness counterpart -- flinch. It was also at this time that the cheetah started visibly sweating, and the lioness started fanning herself. When she got up from the table, the moment her left foot hit the sand, the cheetah's footpad was burned with a hot piece of metal, which made her react, and step backwards.
"Ow! That's a hot spot!" she exclaimed.
The voodoo act continued this way for two or three minutes. Midnight (and he hoped, Michael) got more and more wrapped with anticipation of what the canines would do next to the poor subby cheetah, and by extension, to his female counterpart. The former had a hard-on. The latter seemed not to be enjoying it in the least.
It was when the lioness went to get another drink that the previously stationary tigress then stated to no one in particular, "I guess I should check on things." She got out her cell phone, and dialed.
Instantly, there was a ringing in the pocket of the leftmost cheetah torturer. He put down the hot iron, and pulled a phone from his back pocket. "Yes?" he answered in a gravelly voice.
"I don't know what you guys are doing, but it's the perfect birthday present! It's working so well!"
"That's our job," he replied with a coy smile. "I take it she's pretty upset?"
"Yes!" she answered with a gleeful voice.
"Just you wait, you'll really enjoy the next couple minutes."
"Humiliating?" she asked breathlessly.
"Very," he replied. "Trust me." And then hung up.
The tigress sighed dreamily, and hung up. She shifted in her seat with anticipation as the lioness came walking back with a tall orange juice. At the same time, the wolf then reached over and got out a jar of clear liquid, probably holding a quart. A straw sticking out of it was quickly pushed into the cheetah's mouth, and he started drinking, slowly but consistently. Midnight wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be water or something else.
"Well, I'm back," sighed the lioness as she sat down once again. "It's really hot!" She too began drinking, but much more quickly than the cheetah.
"No problem," smoothly purred the tigress. "And, to be honest, you're making me a little warmer."
The lioness laughed nervously. "Oh c'mon now," she brushed off, "you know I have a boyfriend."
"Yes, I know, not interested. But that doesn't keep a girl from dreaming, does it?" she insisted.
"Okay, okay, cut it out. What is Lisa up to?"
"She's pretty far away from here, sorta like Charlie," she replied with a sly tone. "But," she continued much more civilly, "she's doing fine. Or so she tells me every single day."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," the lioness replied with a smile -- a smile that seemed to be covering up something. "Has she been offered stock yet?"
"No, but she said if she gets a good performance review, she will be at the end of the year."
"Glad to hear that! It's about time she started moving up."
But as she was offering her good feelings, the Cheetah -- now almost done gulping down the liquid -- started trying to cross his legs. He was too immobilized to do much but bend his knees, but the way he squirmed and his eyes explained the problem: he needed to go to the bathroom.
And a moment later, much more subtly, the lioness started looking much less comfortable as she listened to what else Lisa was up to. Midnight actually couldn't tell how she telegraphed it, but she certainly did give off the vibe that his discomfort was transferring onto her just like the pains did.
She finally interrupted rudely, "is there a restroom around here?"
"Over there," answered the tigress, trying to be causal even though her eyes had been getting more and more predatory the entire time.
She pointed to the right edge of the stage, just as stage hands silently slid in a small out-building -- whose inside was visible to the audience, and currently was occupied by a tall dalmatian, reading a book with his pants down.
"Thanks," replied the lioness, "I'll be back in a second." She hustled over to it, and once there, pulled on the door. Since it was occupied, it was locked, and her distress only grew upon discovering this fact. When the cheetah groaned through his gag, she then changed from anxious standing to shifting her weight and crossing her legs quite uncomfortably.
As the dog sat there mostly oblivious, it only seemed to get worse for the two of them. "Hurry up," she whined quietly, "what in Greenman's name is taking you so long?"
After another couple of tense moments, the dog pantomimed getting toilet paper. As he did, the wolf took a bucket from off stage, and put it in front of the cheetah. It was clear what was about to happen.
The audience gave audible murmurs and whispers, presumably of anticipation. Midnight, too, was getting aroused by the display; and when he looked over at Michael, the bird was staring as if it were an emotional train-wreck.
Finally, as the dog was pulling his pants up, the cheetah started peeing into the bucket. And the lioness whined as her pants started getting soaked from the inside out.
When she heard the whine, the tigress turned and watched the display. When the dark spot started to become visible on the buttocks of the lioness' pants, the tigress started rubbing herself visibly through her own pants.
The cheetah and lioness relaxed in unison -- thought only the latter wore a big red blush. It was only when the cheetah finished that the lioness turned around to see the tigress staring at her, rubbing herself. She ran away crying off the stage, and abruptly the curtain went down.
The audience took a moment to start their exuberant applause, with woohoos and whistles mixed in. Midnight looked over at Michael, and he was clapping, but also still staring at that exact same spot he was when the curtain was up.
After the clapping stopped and the din of voices returned, Michael still didn't say anything.
Midnight finally asked, "What did you think?"
Michael had to raise his voice to get over the sound of many people getting up. "I want to meet her," he stated with great certainty, "Mistress Nadeen, I mean. And ask her some questions about it. Can I do that?"
Midnight smiled. So Michael did get something out of it after all. "I think that can be arranged. Come with me. Josh, Brendan, wait here and don't make trouble."
"Okay, master," answered Josh -- with a mischievous grin.
Midnight returned the same smile. "I mean it. I own you, remember."
"We know, master."
"Good."
Midnight led the bird back toward the back of the room, and eventually into a hallway with an orate wooden frame, and nothing else but white walls. When they arrived at a tee, Midnight took the left hallway which led down a flight of fire stairs. Rather than going outside, however, Midnight led Michael to another door below ground, which opened into another plain hallway, this one dimly lit.
He approached the first door on the right, which was heavily decorated with gaudy ornaments, and knocked. "May I compliment you on your work, Mistress?" he asked in a sing-song voice.
The door opened, and to the surprise of Michael, the tigress from the vignette answered.
"Middie! How nice to see you!" she beamed.
"I see you're busy as always. Keeping up good quality, too," he purred -- one of the few purrs that he used when he wasn't trying to make a move on someone.
"Well thank you. And who is this?" she asked.
"This is Michael. He's new to all this, and I thought one of your plays would be the best way to teach him the ropes without requiring he be tied up in them."
She chuckled, much the same way she had for the lioness, but without the look in her eye. "That's a pretty good way to go about it, indeed. So, Michael, did it work? Did you learn anything?"
Michael suddenly got both nervous and attentive. "Um, actually, uh, I wanted to, um, ask you some questions, if, uh, you have --"
"I'll answer your questions," she gently interrupted, "if you'll answer some of mine. Deal?"
"Okay," answered the bird submissively.
"Come in," she offered.
Michael stepped in stiffly, appearing to obey the order rather than accept the offer. Midnight, on the other hand, did the latter, and closed the door.
The room was a small dressing room, containing mostly a vanity, a chest of drawers overflowing with fancy clothes of every material, and rather conveniently, two heavy wooden chairs. Midnight and Michael, coordinating with their eyes, sat down in each one.
"So, Michael, do you like girls?"
"Oh yes," he answered without hesitation.
"Then you'll like this, I'm sure," she answered as she started taking off the clothes she wore on stage. "While I get ready, why don't you ask me your questions?"
Midnight couldn't help but smirk. If he wasn't mistaken, she was starting her "routine" on Michael.
"Um... okay... uh..." Michael stammered. "Um, I -- I saw your show, and I thought it was good..."
"Thank you," she replied cheerfully as she got off her tank top and bra, "go on."
"And, um, I... I'm confused. Because part of me was watching that lioness in fear... but part of me... I can't quite explain it."
"Would it be fair to say," she asked as she pulled a bulky leather chest piece out of a bottom drawer, "that some part of you wanted to be her, even if you were scared or upset?"
"I... I guess," he answered, eyes transfixed on her panties as she slid them down a moment later.
"Well then, I have a suggestion," she offered, "I suggest we get a private room, and play a game. It won't be nearly as upsetting as her torment was, but it will be enough to see whether we can explore that a bit."
"If I might make a suggestion," interrupted Midnight, who was quickly getting bored with the show she was putting on for Michael, "I've got two other companions outside who... need discipline. How about Questions?"
"Now there's an idea," she mulled as she finished getting on her leather outfit. "We'll have to be careful with the scoring, but I suppose that would work."
"Okay, then. I'll get those two, you get Michael, and we'll meet in a private room in 5 minutes. How about it?"
"Sounds good to me. I pick it."
"Okay." Midnight left immediately to get them, leaving Michael in her capable hands.
When Midnight returned to the table, both of the snow leopards were waiting as he had instructed. "So," he purred, "who volunteers to play Questions?"
Brendan looked puzzled, but Josh raised his hand.
"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," Midnight teased, "I might get carried away."
"I can take it, master, if you'll let me." He gave Midnight that look again, a mixture of cunning and playfulness that got Midnight easily excited. The look that said: I've got this pendant on. Try me.
"Okay then, so be it. Brendan, you'll help me keep an eye on him."
He smiled that innocent smile of his, and nodded as he stood up.
***
The three of them went back down the hall, taking the opposite side of the tee to the private rooms. Past a set of dungeon-like doors, Midnight saw the tigress waiting at the end of the hall with the door open on a room Midnight knew well.
She invited them in, and the first thing that Midnight saw was that Michael's clothes were gone, and he was now wearing nothing but a collar. It was also the first time Midnight had seen his friend naked. However, he didn't seem too upset about it; he was busy looking around at the Gothic ornamentation and equipment on the walls.
"Well well, who's someone's pet now?" Midnight teased.
Michael looked back at him and smiled weakly, probably blushing under his black facial feathers.
"All it took was a little encouragement and learning a couple simple rules -- not a full set, of course," the tigress stated proudly. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" she asked him.
"Y-yes, I -- er, mistress, I am," he answered, visibly nervous.
"Good. Because we're going to play Questions. Here's how it works."
While Josh started stripping off -- probably knowing the game, Midnight thought -- she got out two pieces of paper and a pair of pens, and handed one of each to Michael and Midnight. When the snow leopard was dressed similarly to Michael, Midnight handed them off to Josh, who took it and started thinking.
"You two subs are going to ask each other questions," Mistress Nadeen explained. "If Josh here asks a question, and you give the right answer, Midnight gets to punish him. If you asks a question and he gives the right answer, I get to punish you. But, there's a catch -- and this is where it gets interesting."
She paced around Michael talking now directly in his face. "Punishment is in levels, numbered 1 to 10. If you choose, you can say 'I'm sorry' -- Go on, say it."
"I'm -- OW! I'M SORRY!" screeched Michael suddenly, as Mistress Nadeen plucked one feather from the back of his head.
Midnight smiled at seeing his reaction. If that was all it took for that kind of reaction, she would have to be careful indeed. Fortunately for him, Josh claimed to have no such limitations.
"That's a good boy," she reassured in the same soft tone she was using a moment before, petting his shoulders. "So, if you say that, then you can take the punishment onto yourself. It will be different, but it will be the same kind as the other punishment. Understand?"
Michael's eyes were fixed to hers, fear or attraction Midnight couldn't tell. "J-just one question, Mistress," he asked nervously.
"You may ask," she answered after a pause.
"Why the paper?"
"That is to make this game easier. Write down 10 questions and their correct answers that you know. They can be anything, as long as it is a fact, and the answer is short. I'll give you some time. I'd like to speak with Midnight for a moment."
Michael took the pen and paper, and learning them against the wall, started thinking. Meanwhile, Midnight and Mistress Nadeen stepped outside. She started whispering once the door was mostly shut.
"Did you see how he reacted to just one feather?"
Midnight nodded. "I'm not surprised. I've met enough birds to know that pulling a feather is probably a level 2 or 3 punishment. I would have warned you if I'd had time."
"Regardless, do you think the scales should be different? I don't want your sub to get bored. I did notice his necklace..."
Midnight thought a moment. She did have a point; Michael would probably freak out at some of what Midnight was originally planning.
"How about this: Michael gets a scale from 1 to 6, and Josh gets a scale from 4 to 10."
"Deal," she said immediately with a smile.
The two of them returned to find that Josh had already climbed onto one of the tilted tables and laid down, while Brendan was looking him over as if he were the top. Michael was still writing.
"Small change of rules," the Mistress announced to the three others. "To keep Michael safe, he's got a scale from 1 to 6 -- and Josh has a scale from 4 to 10."
Midnight gave a wicked grin. Josh looked back at him with a hint of nervousness -- probably fake, Midnight thought. Brendan seemed to be quite interested in this development, so it couldn't be too bad for Josh.
"Michael's level 4 and Josh's level 4 are the same, but Michael gets to trade a level 1 for his level 4. Got it?"
Everyone nodded, except Michael who mumbled, "yes mistress."
It took another minute or two for Michael to reluctantly hand his questions to his mistress. Midnight got his from Josh, and they exchanged.
"Okay Michael, lay back on this table," directed Mistress Nadeen, gesturing toward the empty one opposite Josh.
The bird answered "yes mistress," before very stiffly walking over there, sitting on it, and laying down, quite ill at ease.
Midnight handed his questions to Josh, Mistress Nadeen handed his questions to Michael, and then the two tops stood between them.
"Okay, evens-odds, I'm even. Pick a number in one-two-three."
They revealed their right hands. Midnight chose 5. She chose 2. The total, 7, was odd, so Josh would go first.
"One more thing," interrupted Mistress Nadeen as Josh was about to speak. She went over and loomed over Michael. "I just want you to know that you make the decisions," she growled, "but the more you escape punishment, the more disappointed your mistress will be in you."
Michael swallowed hard, and looking up at the ceiling, answered, "yes mistress."
"Now then," she said, returning her gaze to Midnight, "your move."
Midnight looked over at Josh, and only then did he ask his first question.
"So if you're a crow, you must know this," Josh asked wittily, "what is 342 minus 173?"
"169," Josh answered in just over one second.
Mistress Nadeen had to think for a moment, but did declare, "Correct!"
Midnight flashed his wicked smiled, and immediately went for a riding crop hanging in the corner. He took it down, and loomed over Josh. The snow leopard looked up at him with a sense of calm; calm that Midnight would do his best to break.
"Level four," the jag stated coldly." WHAP.
"Ow!" Josh cried out about like Michael did for having his feather pulled, as Midnight laid a single, harsh stroke on his chest.
WHAP. "Ow!" Another identical cry.
Midnight whip-whipped an X on Josh's chest.
"OW!" Josh was panting now.
WHAP, WHAP. "OW!"
Midnight gave Josh a lustful stare before putting down the crop on a table next to him. Only then did Midnight look up, to see Michael staring at the two of them just like he had at the stage play earlier.
Midnight looked at Mistress Nadeen, who then prompted, "your turn, Michael."
Michael snapped out of it, and spent a moment looking at the list before choosing his question.
"What's the difference between a callable and non-callable bond?"
Josh's face turned to shock. "What!?" he demanded.
"Wrong answer," purred Midnight, and picked up the switch again. "Level five."
More cross-hatched patterns were whipped on Josh's chest, each one making him yell a bit louder that the last. And when all 10 lashes were finished, he was panting, staring at the ceiling distantly, and had an erection.
"Your turn," growled Midnight with his grin.
"Dear Green Man," gasped Josh, "um..." He pulled his head down to look at the list, and read it through again.
"Michael... what is black and white and read all over?"
"A newspaper?" Michael answered, unsure why he would employ an old joke.
"Correct," purred Miss Nadeen.
"And me, soon!" whined Josh as Midnight picked up the crop again with a vicious grin.
"I'm sorry!" blurted Josh.
Midnight already had the crop raised, and so was forced to bang it on the side of the table with a wince. He turned around, and offered the crop to Miss Nadeen, as Michael stared at it in terror.
"I don't need that," said the tigress, turning back to Michael. "Don't worry," she purred, "it's not too bad. Just level one. Ready?"
Michael swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yes, mist--"
Before he could even brace, she slapped him in the face hard enough to turn his head 20 degrees.
"Owwww!" yelled Michael in a whiny voice Midnight had never heard. "That's level one!?" he gasped grabbing his cheek.
"'That's level one' WHAT?" she snarled, drawing back again.
"Um, Mistress! Mistress! That's level one Mistress!?"
She lowered her arm, and started rubbing his cheek gently. "Yes, it was," she purred. "Just give it a moment, and the sting will wear off. Now it's your question."
Michael looked at the list -- and seemed to be breathing a little heavier than he was before the slap. His body was getting more on the alert, but Midnight couldn't tell whether the effect was going to his head yet. If it wasn't it would probably only take another couple of those before Michael's brain made the connection.
After a moment's though, Michael asked, "What is the difference between a vault and a somersault in gymnastics?"
Midnight gave Josh his sadistic grin, but the snow leopard blurted, "hang on, I know this... give me a minute..."
"You have 20 seconds," Midnight threatened excitedly, picking up the crop by the end and swinging the handle over Josh like a pendulum.
"Um, um, a vault is sorta where you use the, uh, you know, table thing, instead of spinning, uh, it free in the air. That's a somersault. Right?"
Midnight wasn't actually sure. But the look of surprise and nerves that washed over Michael's face indicated he thought it was correct, so he deferred to the gymnast.
"Correct," Midnight purred.
Michael tensed up, clenching his fits and tightening his shoulders.
"Oh come now," soothed Mistress Nadeen, stroking Michael's chest feathers with one hand and keeping the other behind her back, "all I'll do is another level one. That slap wasn't really that bad, was it?" She then paused, and reached down and started giving Michael a handjob.
"Just relax, Michael," she said quietly. "Just relax..."
Even though the bird's face clearly remained nervous, his body certainly did fall under the spell of his dick. It was only when Michael closed his eyes that she said quietly, "okay then". She let go of his dick, and then delivered a slap just as hard on the opposite cheek.
Michael recoiled, but this time just groaned in pain. His face was reacting to the pain, but his breathing stayed at its elevated pace. "As I said, Michael, just relax," she repeated, as she resumed playing with his slowly-hardening dick. "Midnight," she continued, "your question."
"Just a moment," Midnight purred, going back over to the wall to change instruments. He was sick and tired of just whipping the snow leopard; he wanted something more terrifying.
He settled on the spark wand, a device designed to superficially burn rather than electrocute. Once he took it down and returned to Josh's side, he held it right in front of Josh's nose, and pressed the trigger button, making a large spark snap between the steel tines at its tip separated by a quarter inch. He was quite pleased to see Josh startle at the noise, even as much as he was staring at the instrument.
"Your question, Josh," he growled with a smile.
"Um, let me think master," he stated quickly, and closed his eyes for a moment. He then opened them, and read from the list. "If you have a bond with two percent interest, how many years will it double in?"
"35 years."
Midnight looked over at the piece of paper, and stated the confirmation with a smile: "correct. Level seven."`
First, Midnight put it to Josh's arm, and pulled the trigger.
CRACK. "Ow!"
Another pull. CRACK. "Oww!!"
Midnight got a surge of arousal at how much more frightened Josh sounded the second time. He decided to push Josh a little more with some little ones: POP, CRACK, POP.
"AAAH!!"
Every yell got Midnight more excited, as he moved from Josh's arm down his leg. He soon got Josh crying and panting, as his own arousal rose more at each cue of despair from the snow leopard. It would have been a terrible display of cruelty were Josh's erection becoming harder, not softer.
"Now this time," growled Midnight with a cold smile, "don't get the question wrong."
"Yes, master," whimpered Josh in a voice that didn't seem to suggest he was going to.
"Miss Nadeen?" Midnight asked politely.
She looked over at Michael, who was staring at Josh, and considerably more flaccid than he'd been before answering the question.
Midnight saw that it took Michael a moment to get his eyes back on the list. "What is the diff--"
"I don't remember!" blurted Josh.
Midnight grinned. He really was liking it after all, or he wouldn't have so obviously thrown the question.
"You really didn't even listen? Well, that's no good. You should really be punished for that!" he snarled viciously with his most sadistic smile. "Level eight!"
This time, for extra dramatic effect, Midnight held Josh down with his free hand, placing it on his chest, and with his face unchanging, he put the pair of poles on Josh's thigh, and gave him shock after shock after shock until he was screaming. With another set of shocks, tears were in his eyes.
"Dear Grean Man!" cried Josh.
At this point, Midnight was incredibly aroused. He almost started jerking off right there, but he decided to give his libido a compromise.
"Josh," he snarled quietly.
"Y-y-yes master," he sobbed.
"Do you promise, after this game is over, to please your master however he wishes?"
Josh seemed to be still catching his breath. Midnight accelerated his decision by simply touching the two tines to the snow leopard's balls.
"Y-y-y-yes! Yes master!" he gasped, "I ... I will."
"Even if it requires terrible, terrible suffering?"
"Yes master," he gulped, wiping away his tears, but his voice still trembling.
"Then I'll stop. Next question for Michael."
It took almost half a minute for the snow leopard to compose himself. Midnight looked over at Michael, who was staring again with that undecipherable entranced look on his face. "Michael," he asked, "is this scaring you?"
"Um," he gulped, looking up at the jag, "I ... I don't think so."
"Well you can rest assured," purred Mistress Nadeen, who took up fondling Michael again, "I would never do such a terrible thing to you. Josh is very, very different than you, and I know that. You need a much lighter touch."
Michael relaxed quite a bit, and just as before, once he got hard, she let go of his dick.
"Ready for the next question?" asked Midnight.
"Yes -- um, master?"
"No no," Midnight deferred, "she's your mistress."
"Oh. Then what should I call you?"
"You should call him," instructed his mistress, "the very same thing you did before any of this. Understand?"
"Yes -- mistress!" he added at the last moment, as she got ready to swing at him. She lowered her arm, and smiled pleasantly.
"Okay, he's ready," stated Mistress Nadeen.
Midnight crossed his arms, the wand sticking out of his hand pointing away Josh. "Go on, Josh."
"Um... what is the difference between a short call and a margin call?"
Michael hesitated, before looking up at his mistress and answering with a gulp, "I... don't remember."
Mistress Nadeen walked over, and stroked his cheek. "I'll just give you a level one. Does this still hurt a bit?" she asked in a gentle voice, but with a gleam in her eye similar to that of Midnight.
"It's just sore, Mistress."
She petted it gently, and Michael seemed to react more; probably still quite sensitive, Midnight presumed.
"How about the other one?"
"It's better, Mistress."
She walked around to the other side of the table, gently turned his head away from her, and then slapped him again.
"Ow!" he squawked.
"Oh c'mon," she teased, brushing his cheek, "it wasn't that bad, was it?"
"I -- I don't know, mistress," he answered weakly.
She grabbed his dick, and started giving him a handjob again. "Now think about it," she purred, "you really react to that strongly, don't you? Do you want to get slapped again?"
Michael just laid there, and kept breathing harder, his dick rising up again even as there was fear and surprise still written on his face.
Before he could answer her question, she slapped him on the other cheek again.
"Ouch!" he groaned again -- but in addition to his breathing accelerating again, his eyes seemed to go distant. Perhaps he was enjoying it after all, Midnight thought.
And not a moment later, Michael finally confirmed it. With a groan and a thrust or two, seed started pumping out of his dick as she kept massaging.
"Well well well," she teased, "I guess that's a yes, huh?"
"Yes... mistress," he panted.
"Well, I guess that's game over. Shall we go, Josh?" purred Midnight.
"I suppose, master," he answered. Midnight knew he was hesitant because of what was about to happen next.
"Thank you, Mistress Nadeen. Michael, would you excuse us?"
"Yes, m-- Midnight. And... thanks for the lesson," he added.
"No problem," purred the jag. "I'm sure you and the Mistress can continue teaching you about this subject. Good luck." He winked, and left with his two snow leopards.
He took them to another private room down the hall that was open, smaller, but with a similar range of equipment. Once Midnight, Josh, and Brendan filed in, Midnight closed the door and instantly had a wicked grin on his face.
"Now then," Midnight purred, "what did you promise me, Josh?"
"That I would... suffer for you, master," he sighed, adding a hesitation to his voice that got Midnight excited all over again.
"You tease," he growled playfully. "You'll regret teasing me. Brendan, string Josh up, would you?" He gestured toward two chains hanging from the ceiling near one of the corners of the room.
The other snow leopard smiled, and -- probably for Midnight's benefit -- grabbed his companion by the shoulders, and roughly pushed him into the wall next to them with an "oof".
"Which way would you prefer him, master?" he asked politely, voice more fitting to ask where they would sit at a restaurant.
"Towards me," commanded Midnight without a second thought, "I want to see the fear in his eyes."
While Brendan removed Josh's clothes and put his wrists into the manacles, Midnight sauntered over to the rack of tools, and looked them over. Too many had sharp edges; he wanted another kind of pain that wouldn't draw blood. After some thought, he decided to start with a three-foot switch, and would move up to something more dramatic later.
"First thing's first, Josh. What's your safe word?"
Josh didn't answer.
"Pick one, even if you don't think you will use it."
"Uh... blue sky."
Midnight could hear he boredom in his voice, and didn't like it. "Brendan, I take it you can keep an eye on Josh for me?" he asked.
The snow leopard nodded, and cast his eyes down with softness at Josh. It was an interesting contrast to the grin on his face.
"Excellent," he growled, "because otherwise... I may go a bit overboard."
Midnight picked up the switch from the table, and unfurled it, running the tip through his fingers. "I've always thought," Midnight remarked philosophically, "that the word 'sadist' is misused. I hear it a lot used to describe pitching to a sub. But the sub, then, is supposed to like it, which means it's not really sadism, is it?"
He paused to turn to Brendan, who, after a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, obligingly shook his head.
"So, Josh," Midnight growled with a wicked smile, "you should be very afraid. Because I am a TRUE sadist." He drew back, and whipped Josh once in the chest.
The snow leopard winced and grunted. Nothing too dramatic, as Midnight expected. It would sting, but not cause any wounds.
"Oh I'm just getting started," he snarled, and whipped Josh again. And again, and again, and again. Each time the snow leopard's grunt got a little louder, until he finally called out with a distinct whine in his voice.
That got Midnight just as hard as he was when he was last playing Questions. The excitement just seemed to put more power into his arms, making him whip Josh harder, covering his chest and stomach with blows. Once he was whining and moaning constantly, the jag moved down to his thighs, continuing to whip him mercelessly.
Josh's cries kept rising -- as did his boner -- until Josh's voice momentarily broke in the middle of an "aaah!" That made Midnight believe he was getting somewhere, and made him decide to ratchet things up.
"Brendan," he growled lustfully, "Josh here is getting too excited. What would change his opinion?"
Brendan mirrored Midnight's wicked smile, and suggested, "Try hitting him in the nuts, master."
Josh got a terrified look on his face, and squirmed a bit, perhaps trying to protect his boner. But the restraints easily kept his arms and legs apart.
"Wonderful idea," purred Midnight, and with no more warning, swifly turned around and kneed the snow leopard hard in the spot Brendan suggested.
Being restrained against the wall, Josh took the full weight of it. He gave a truncated moan, a sound like he'd been winded. His eyes buldged nearly out of their sockets.
"I told you: you'res supposed to suffer," growled Midnight viciously. "Now maybe you'll know I'm not pussy-footing around."
When Midnight picked up the whip again, and gave Josh another couple of lashes, Midnight found it wasn't working for him. Josh wasn't responding with the same sort of fear that sent a surge through the jag a moment ago. He wanted more out of Josh; to see what kind of "anything" Josh could put up with.
Looking over his tools again, Midnight put down the switch, and opted for a device that looked like a curling iron, but had a steel bulb at its end and no scissor mechanism. It did, however, get just as hot.
Midnight took the tool and plugged it into an outlet hanging down from the ceiling, waiting for it to heat up. "I wonder what he'll think of this," snarled Midnight, his voice dripping with lust.
"He will absolutely hate it, master," answered Brendan with a perky tone of voice. Indeed, Josh couldn't take his eyes off the tool as it heated up for a good 30 seconds. When it was ready,
Midnight picked it up, and tapped Josh's shoulder with the ball. It got an "ow!" out of him, but more importantly, it seemed to instill enough more fear in his face than all the whipping Midnight had given him.
With one quick motion, Midnight picked up the tool and quickly swiped it from Josh's chest down to his belly button. That got the snow leopard to give a nice string of "ah"s and "ow"s, like he had been set on fire. But the moment the pain stopped, he stopped yelling, panting in pain.
Midnight then dragged the ball around Josh's chest slowly for a good 10 seconds. Josh whined and yelled intermittently the entire time. More tellingly, he also tried to move his wrists out of their restraints.
"You're not going anywhere," Midnight purred, "until I've had all the fun I want."
Midnight dragged the ball in a wandering path around Josh' body, up and down his stomach and left arm. Josh could do nothing but responde with whines, cries, and struggling.
Midnight paused a moment to let Josh catch his breath -- but before he could catch it, without warning, Midnight dragged the ball up his arm. That got him to yell again, quite a bit louder, and start blinking his eyes furiously, which Midnight also took notice of.
"You'd better not cry, Josh," Midnight threatened with a lustful snarl, "you said you would suffer. Besides... crying would encourage me, and you don't want that, do you?"
The leopard was panting, and silently shook his head.
"But I wonder," teased Midnight, "what would happen if I tried to burn all the fur off those balls of yours?"
"N-n-no!" whined Josh.
Which immediately made Midnight touch the tip for just a split second to Josh's sack, getting a good yell out of him, and the tears to start.
"What did I say about crying?" growled the jag with a grin on his face. "You don't listen, do you? Brendan," he snapped, "how can I punish him? What would scare him shitless?"
Brendan exchanged looks with Josh for a silent moment before he went over to the tools himself, and handed Midnight a butt plug -- and a very terrible one at that. It was shaped like a pair and had mechanical levers on a straight handle; it was meant to be held inside the victim and operated manually.
Making sure Josh could see him do so, Midnight got it lubricated from a small jar on a shelf with his most wicked grin yet. He then looked over at the snow leopard, to find him staring at it, just as he had done with every tool before. In spite of his "game face", he was trembling a bit. He clearly recognized it.
"I'll ask you just once," Midnight purred in his threatening tone, "do you give in?"
"N-n-no!" Josh stammered, breath accelerating and teeth clenching in anticipation.
Midnight looked at Brendan out of the corner of his eye. The snow leopard was motionless, which to Midnight meant Josh would not be traumatized.
"Well then, let's see if this will convince you."
Midnight walked around behind Josh, and grabbed his violently thrashing tail, pulling it down and tying it using another loop of leather under the table.
"Dear Green Man," whined Josh.
"All you have to do," Midnight repeated through heavy breathing, "is give in."
Josh replied by staring defiantly at the ceiling.
"You'd better relax, then..."
Midnight gave Josh a couple seconds pause, and he did, in fact, seem to relax a bit. So the jag slowly and gently pushed the tool in, the bulb going up to the end of the soft pink ring. Once it was in place, Josh whined, and blinked a couple extra times.
Gritting his teeth and a lusty snarl as the only warning, Midnight gripped the two levers on the handle squeezed, making the two sides of the pear inside the snow leopard spread.
Josh screamed, a loud, high-pitched scream Midnight couldn't imagine him making before then. It went on until Midnight released the grip levers, and the spring-loaded mechanism closed itself.
Midnight let Josh catch his breath. He was getting excited enough, he wanted less hurt and more fun for himself.
"Give in?" snarled the jag.
"Never!" gasped the snow leopard.
Midnight squeezed again. Josh screamed some more, and the agony in his eyes got Midnight's dick to trickle a bit of precum. The jag only released after a good five seconds.
"Now suck," growled Midnight, undoing his pants, and letting his rock-hard member stick out.
Brendan immediately knelt, grabbed it, and slurped it into his mouth, starting to work on it with vigor or fear. Because of all that stimulation beforehand, Midnight only lasted a minute or two in the face of such wonderful ministrations, and came quickly.
Once the Jag recovered, and let Brendan clean him up, he put his pants back together and got Josh out of the restraints. "You certainly deserve that pendant," he remarked, "now let's go find Michael again."
Josh said nothing, and Brendan didn't either, but the latter looked up at him with a look best described as admiration. It just added to the warm glow Midnight was feeling.
***
When they returned to the main room once again -- though by this time in the evening it was a little less full, and their former table was taken -- Midnight found Mistress Nadeen sitting at a table with Michael. Since Midnight saw some aspect of his expression in the two of them, he presumed that they'd been having fun as well.
He led Josh and Brendan over, and sat them down without a word, as Mistress Nadeen was finishing a sentence.
"I'll get some dessert menus," stated Midnight.
"That sounds quite good, actually," Michael answered.
Midnight got up, and went to the bar, and got five laminated pieces of paper, which were surprisingly spotless for all they had surely been used. He brought them back to the table and handed them out.
Michael took his menu quickly, and Brendan looked similarly interested, but Josh was still staring at the middle of the table -- still in shock after what the jag had just done to him?
Such a change in Josh would have been exciting earlier, but the fact that it persisted this long started to make Midnight wonder. He leaned over to Brendan and whispered, "is he okay?"
"You didn't hurt him, if that's what you mean," whispered Brendan. "He just needs a couple minutes to de-stress."
"Glad to hear it. Get some dessert for yourself, if you want."
There was almost no conversation until ice cream arrived for Brendan, chocolate cake arrived for Michael, and a nine-inch-wide chocolate-chip cookie arrived on a plate for midnight.
After the waiter left, Michael turned to Midnight and said, "I think I understand now."
"Well! I'm glad," replied Midnight. "I guess that means my work is done."
"Yes," replied Miss Nadeen. "And his work is just beginning. I think he liked being led -- though I don't think he's ready to be a slave anytime soon."
"Well, there's a difference between Josh and... what you did for me," Michael explained.
"Of course there is," she replied with a sharp look at Midnight.
Midnight was surprised at the look. "What?" he asked.
"I had to straighten him out about a couple things, like how few of our members are 'owned'."
"I didn't mean to give him that impression," Midnight assured her. "It's just that he encountered these two before I could explain anything."
"Quite a way to introduce him. Didn't you realize your actions would speak louder than your words?"
"Well, I... " Midnight sat quietly for a moment, as he tried to phrase his words. "You have a point," he finally said. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Michael."
"It's okay," the bird replied without a moment's thought, "I like it here. I'd like to become a member... if you'd vouch for me."
"Of course," answered Midnight with a smile -- showing genuine warmth for the first time tonight, "if you can afford it."
And with that, the jag enjoyed the rest of his dessert, and left not long after -- but not before asking Josh and Brendan when they typically showed up. He'd be back for them again.
The End.