Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Pretty Boys and Kinky Spaces

I took a deep breath, fixed the collar of my blazer and followed Robin into the gaming parlor.

The spacious, lamplit room contained several round tables, around two of which groups of men were seated. Polished, dark wood floors peeked from under a vintage burgundy rug. An expansive hearth loomed against the far wall, containing a blazing fire that crackled and popped. The weather had gotten significantly colder over the past couple of weeks, so it was welcome.

"Now, Mr. Marin. Would you like to join a table or would you like me to seat you at one of the empty ones?"

"Hmm." I gazed at the two busy tables. A game of backgammon was in play at one of them, and cards at another. "I'd love to sit by the fire, at the empty table."

"Lovely. Come this way, please."

I glanced at the bar to my left, where a black man in fancy historical clothing was mixing a cocktail. He flashed me a smile and gave me a nod. I returned the smile, then followed Robin to the table I'd indicated. There was a small stage with a piano beside it. If anyone performed, we'd have front row seats.

"Thank you," I said.

"Of course. You'll be able to see your friend when he arrives. May I have his name, please?"

"Aiden Thompson," I replied. "He should be here soon."

"I'm sure," Robin said, eyeing me with interest. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Of course. Yes. Hmm."

"I'll get you a cocktail menu," Robin said, flitting to the bar before I could say anything else. He leaned over the bar top and whispered something to the bartender, who glanced at me and shrugged, then passed Robin a laminated sheet.

Robin came back to the table and placed it in front of me. "Have a look, and I'll be back in a moment."

"Thank you."

He went off to another table, and I was able to relax and scan the list of cocktails on offer. The atmosphere of the place, with soft jazz playing in the background—which might not have been historically accurate but added to the relaxed ambience—and the sounds of men chatting and egging each other on, gave me a glimpse into another time. I received some curious glances from a few of the customers, but otherwise was left to myself. I wondered how it would have felt to have found a place like this, where a gay man could be himself, in a society that was openly hostile and that criminalized same-sex behavior. Would I have had the courage to go there? Or would I have lived a life of misery trying to be something I wasn't? I didn't even want to contemplate the answer.

There were two other servers in pretty Victorian undergarments moving about, and I had to say that the concept was brilliant. Titillating and unique, it was a glimpse into a subset of kink and gender fluidity that might have existed in secret locations back in the day. The men at work here at Molly's were lovely young things, who seemed perfectly at home and happy to serve drinks and small snacks to the men who observed them. I noticed lots of flirting between the molly boys and the clients but no bad behavior. The men seemed to know what would be tolerated.

Then Robin came back into the room leading Aiden, who seemed absolutely delighted with the attention and also happy to find me waiting for him.

"And here you are then, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Marin. Have a look at the drinks list and I'll be back in a moment—or flag down one of the other mollies to assist you."

"Thank you so much," Aiden said, taking the chair next to mine and subtly eyeing Robin's cinched waist. "Fletcher, you look amazing."

"Aiden," I said, looking him over. "You always look nice but…wow."

"Oh, you like?" he asked, sitting back so I could have a better look.

He was wearing artfully faded slim-cut jeans with a crushed velvet navy blazer over a matching vest, with a pinstriped navy and white collared shirt and a navy tie.

"Oh, yes," I said, grinning.

I felt much more at ease now that Aiden was here.

"So," he said, looking around, "this is where your nephew works."

I laughed, raising my eyebrows. "I wonder if my sister-in-law knows?"

"Have you asked her?"

"I keep forgetting. I doubt she'd care. I think she's just glad he's out on his own and doing well."

"That's good."

One of the other molly boys approached our table.

"Hello, gentlemen. I can't help but notice that neither of you have drinks. Can I get you something?"

"Oh, shit, I keep forgetting to look at the list. Is there a drink you'd recommend?" I asked the petite peroxide blond, who was wearing a little bit of rouge on his cheeks and vibrant red lipstick.

He cocked his head. "Well, that depends. Are you looking to get hammered or simply to chill out?"

I glanced at Aiden.

"Oh, I think chill out," he said.

"Definitely," I agreed.

"All right, then. My name's Cory, by the way. Robin got busy and asked me to stop by your table."

"Well, thank you very much, Cory."

"So, if you want something traditional, you could get a whiskey sour. Or if you want to be adventurous, you should try the Sazerac."

"Oh, what's in that?" Aiden asked, leaning forward.

Cory grinned. "It's very nice—rye whiskey, bitters and a dash of absinthe."

"Sold," Aiden said, then turned to me. "Fletcher? What's your poison?"

"I'll stick with the whiskey sour."

"Great," Cory said. "I'll be back in a moment."

Cory took our requests to the gentleman at the bar as another man in period clothing—Sebastian, I think, whom I'd met previously—came into the room and proceeded to the piano. His naturally blond hair fell to his shoulders in soft waves, and he was wearing a cute boater hat on the top of his head. He picked up a microphone from where it rested on the piano and tapped it to get everyone's attention.

"Hello, everyone! Welcome to Maverick Molly's on this chilly November evening. Is everyone feeling toasty and warm now that they're here?"

The men at the nearby tables uttered various affirmatives.

"Excellent." He turned to one of the tables. "Mr. Anderson, I hope you're winning for once."

"He's not!" a man at the same table yelled out.

"Oh, that's a shame," Sebastian said "Well, to soothe your spirits, I'll have one of our entertainers up here to perform for you."

The room filled with hoots and hollers.

"Robin, are you free?" Sebastian asked the young man who had returned.

"Oh no, sir. I fetch a very high fee, don't you know," Robin said with a comical lilt.

Sebastian clicked his tongue. The men laughed.

"You're worth it!" one yelled.

"Awe, shucks," Robin said. "What would you boys like me to do tonight?" he asked, then held up his hand. "No rude remarks. I mean, a dance, a song or some racy poems."

"Striptease!" someone yelled.

"No," Sebastian stated. "Not an option."

"Dammit," the man said. "How about a dance?"

Robin heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Even though my feet are killing me."

I turned to say something to Aiden but his gaze was fixed on Robin.

"Hey," I said in a sharp tone to get his attention. "You're here with me, remember?"

Aiden glanced over and gave me a look full to the brim with unadulterated lust. "And very proud of that fact. But this little minx is entertaining as fuck."

I laughed out loud.

Sebastian started playing the piano, and Robin turned his back to the audience, reached up with both hands then bent over at the waist in one fluid motion.

"One, two, one, two," he said, touching one toe in its little brown shoe, then the other.

Aiden grinned at my expression of disbelief and amusement. "Oh my God. I love this place!" he said.

"Wow," I commented, picking up my drink and taking a sip. But his enjoyment made me happy. For the first time in a very long time, I felt almost carefree. Everyone in this place was having a good time, even the servers, and especially Robin, who contorted himself into all kinds of scintillating positions.

"Ah fuck it. Now I'm too tired to dance," he said with an impish grin and a red face from all the yoga. "How about some jokes?"

"More stretching!" someone yelled out.

"You need your own YouTube channel!" another shouted.

"Gay Victorian Yoga for Horny Bastards?" Robin suggested.

There were hoots and hollers.

"Oh my God," I said, but I couldn't help smiling.

Robin struck a pose and cleared his throat.

"Why can't Miss Piggy count to seventy?"

Nobody knew.

"Because every time she gets to sixty-nine, she gets a little frog in her throat."

Now there was laughter all around.

"Nice one."

"I miss The Muppet Show!"

"That Miss Piggy," Robin said, nodding. "She was an icon."

I rolled my eyes because how the fuck would he know? He, like the other entertainers-slash-servers at Maverick Molly's, seemed to have barely entered adulthood. Probably the start of the Gen Z wave that would take hold of society in a handful of years. God help us all.

"You're two fucking young to know about that!" someone yelled, thinking the same thing as me.

Robin batted his luscious eyelashes and put his hands on his hips, evincing confusion. "What? About sixty-nining?"

Laughter.

"No, The Muppet Show! You weren't even alive when it was on television."

"Well, I'd like to introduce you aging gents to something called the internet," Robin stated. "It's where I get all my info." He tossed his head in an insouciant manner.

"All your porn, you mean," a man said.

"Well, of course. That, too." Robin said, winking. "All right, quiet down. Why is Santa's sack so big?"

"I can't even guess!"

Robin struck a pose with a saucy smile. "Because he only comes once a year."

All during this, Sebastian played little riffs on the piano to accompany Robin's performance. It was very entertaining to watch a vivacious, curvy twink dressed in Victorian undergarments prance about on the stage. Robin's British accent and plump figure made him all the more adorable.

"All right, you lot, one more," he said. "What gets longer when pulled, inserts in a hole and works best when jerked?"

"Your cock!"

"Penis!"

"A dick!" Aiden shouted, much to my surprise. I broke into laughter, covering my mouth.

Robin gave Aiden an incredulous look and put a hand to his choker. "Well, I never! Mr. Thompson, you have a very dirty mind!"

Aiden shrugged and laughed, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"The answer is…a seatbelt," Robin said, shaking his head and descending from the stage as if he was very disappointed in the bunch of us. "Dirty buggers, all of you."

"Oh, hell yes, we are," a man agreed.

"You know it, lovely boy!" someone else said.

"Well," I said, throwing back the last of my whiskey sour and grinning at Aiden. "That was interesting."

"I haven't felt this entertained in ages."

"How is your Sazerac?"

"You know, it's pretty good." He lifted his glass, and we brought our drinks together with a clink, just as Robin came up to us.

"So, did you enjoy the show?" he asked, eying Aiden as if he wanted to climb into his lap, then turning a similar gaze on me. "And you, Mr. Marin? Was it everything you'd dreamed of?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Loved every moment of it," Aiden agreed. "Especially when you did the yoga."

Robin gasped. "Oh, you scoundrel! Next thing, you'll be wanting a peek in my chemise," Robin said, leaning forward and gaping the material above the corset to flash his nipples.

My cock swelled, and I cleared my throat, trying not to look, while Aiden leaned forward.

"Oh hello," Aiden said, giving himself an eyeful. "May I just say, Robin, that this entire establishment is absolutely delightful."

"Why thank you!" He straightened up and fixed his chemise. "But you should see what we have in the back."

Aiden and I exchanged a glance.

"You mean the kink room," Aiden said.

"Oh, you've heard of the Bordello! I can ask the bartender Jacob if anyone's using it if you'd like to give it a go."

Aiden's eyes widened, and he gave me a look of hope and excitement.

"Aiden…tonight?"

"Well, if…if it's available? It probably isn't," Aiden floundered.

"I'll check," said Robin, heading to Jacob at the bar, who was now discussing something with Sebastian.

"Why not tonight?" Aiden said, leaning toward me. "Patrick's watching Lucy. We don't have to do anything. We can just have a look at what's there and discuss what we might want to do at some unspecified date in the future."

I gave him a skeptical look. "We should find out how much it costs per hour."

Aiden shrugged. "I'll cover it, whatever it is."

"Are they paying supply teachers more these days? So much money to throw around…"

Aiden laughed. "It's an investment."

I gave him a shocked look.

"In what?" I asked.

"In getting to know more about you, in letting you know more about me, in finding out if we want to take this thing between us in a kinky direction."

Robin returned with a shiny silver key attached to a vintage Victorian one. He dangled it in front of Aiden.

"Looks like it's yours if you want it."

"How much?" Aiden asked with a smile and a devilish glance my way.

Robin leaned forward, so that his nipples were again visible through the gap of his chemise. "Well, you see, I got you a discount, seeing as it's your first time."

"How much?" I asked, trying not to stare at the dark brown buds peeking from the gap in Robin's chemise.

"A hundred. It's normally two."

"For an hour?" I asked.

"Not just an hour. An hour to have the use of a wide variety of implements and furniture." He looked me up and down. "Historical clothing, even. Trust me. It's worth it."

Robin looked as if he wanted to join us in the Bordello for an hour…or longer.

"Also, if you decide to become a member of our lovely little club after you try the space, we'll deduct that amount from the annual fee. Membership gets you discounted prices on drinks and priority when making a future reservation of the Bordello." Robin let the word drag out in a sultry way as he gazed at us.

Aiden leaned toward me. "Come on, Fletcher. I promise, we don't need to actually do anything. Let's just see what it's like. It's worth a hundred for the novelty alone—and the privacy to have an interesting conversation."

"Fine. Whatever."

Aiden sat back. "You romantic, you."

"I'm sorry. Yes, I'd love to."

Robin beamed. "Excellent."

He gave Jacob a thumbs up and turned back to Aiden and me.

"There are some electronic forms to sign and safety protocols to go over. Then you're in!" He glanced my way and waggled his eyebrows. "Get it? In?"

"We'll see. I've only agreed to talk about it," I said.

Robin put a hand on Aiden's shoulder, regarding me with a tolerant expression. "Playing hard to get, is he?" Robin said. "Come on, then."

I stood, wondering if this was a good idea or a huge mistake. But Aiden was right. It might be fun to have a look at this kink room and discuss where we might want to take this fledgling relationship. Being in an actual room with those sorts of items at our disposal would certainly give us something to talk about. I was buzzy and happy from my whiskey sour, and maybe that helped.

Jacob was very professional, if not as entertaining as Robin, and gave us the lowdown on the rules. We signed the electronic consent forms and transferred the reduced fee, then Robin offered to escort us.

"Now, Robin," Sebastian murmured to the cheeky server, "you're to come right back. You're not allowed to go into that room with Mr. Thompson and Mr. Marin."

Robin frowned. "Fine. But you're no fun." Robin lifted his chin. "This way, gentlemen."

We followed Robin out of the door of the gaming parlor and along the hallway that contained the coat rack. We went past a small kitchen and into the back where a large wood door with the word ‘Bordello' on it stared at us from a broad wall.

"This is it. I'll give you the key now, and please bring it back to whomever is at the bar when you're done. You have the room until ten, which is slightly longer than an hour, so you've gotten quite the introductory deal."

Aiden gave him a salute and gestured to the door.

"Shall we?" he asked as Robin left us.

"I suppose we shall," I said, wondering what glories awaited us inside this room.

As the large door pushed open, pot lights in the ceiling gave a dim illumination to the space. It was much bigger than I'd expected.

Aiden closed the door behind me, locked it and turned on a lamp. "I think we can turn up the main lights as well. Hold on."

I waited as Aiden made the room brighter so we could see our way through this kinky wonderland. Looming furniture and period details came into focus as I looked about.

"Okay. Well, there's a lot of stuff in here," Aiden commented.

To our left was a cozy area with a rug, a settee and a mirrored vanity. There was a rack of vintage clothing hanging between that space and the rest of the space—sort of a divider. Then an antique school desk and a bigger wood desk were in front of a blackboard. Someone had chalked some math problems on the board, for realism.

But my gaze was drawn to the bed and the St. Andrew's cross, then to a line of implements hanging on a rack affixed to the wall beside it.

"Jesus Christ."

Daniel and I had enjoyed a relatively gear-free BDSM relationship. We'd discussed going to a place like this once or twice, but it hadn't seemed necessary. The power play in our relationship didn't require accouterments. It was something that had come about naturally as we'd become more intimate. But I'd always wanted to see a place like this.

I felt a flash of guilt because I was here with Aiden and not Daniel. But I couldn't be here with Daniel, because Daniel was dead. And I'd be damned if I was going to live a celibate or kink-free life to pay some kind of misguided homage to our love. It wasn't anyone's fault that he'd died, but he had, and I was still here.

I was still alive, and I was beginning to feel that way at last.

Getting close to Aiden, physically and emotionally, had been a way through that door, and I wasn't about to turn around. No matter how strange it seemed, and not the life I'd expected, I needed to embrace my circumstances and make the most of them.

"Are you okay?" Aiden asked, coming near to me and gazing at me with kindness.

"Yes. I'm good. More than good. Look at this place."

"Oh, I'm looking." He took my hand. "Come on."

He led me to the space that was farthest away from us, which seemed to be the most intense section of the room, designed for serious bondage and impact play, with kink furniture I'd never seen up close and personal—only online.

Aiden led me to a wooden pillory standing innocently in the center of the space and dropped my hand.

"Wow. Will you look at this!"

He lifted the wood bar on its hinge to make space for someone to put their head and wrists inside. The creak of the hinge echoed as he raised it.

"Well?" he turned to me with a devilish grin. "What are you waiting for?"

I gave him a skeptical look. "Seems extreme for our first time."

The hinge squeaked again as he lowered the bar.

I moved a few feet to a different piece of kink furniture.

"This looks like an intriguing contraption," I said.

It seemed like it was built for a person to be strapped in on their front, with cut-outs that exposed their face and genitals, then maneuvered into whatever position was desired.

"That's a Berkley Horse!" Aidan squealed, with such delight that I gave a start.

"A what now?"

"This is incredible. I've never seen one in real life."

"Huh," I said.

"Your face goes here," Aiden said, giving me a wink, "and your other bits can be got to, and someone can paddle your ass while you're played with. It's ingenious."

I immediately pictured myself in the contraption with Aiden in control of my bits and my backside.

"Ingenious," I whispered, staring at the device as my pants got tighter. The submissive side of my personality was still here.

Aiden watched me, the sound of my breathing loud in the space.

"You like that idea," he said finally. "I can tell."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, but I couldn't speak. My body was an inferno all of a sudden, as if a dragon had been sleeping and now it had awakened.

"Yes," I admitted. "But…"

"You don't want to do it right now."

I didn't answer, because the truth was I wasn't sure. Part of me did want to do it now—and we could. We had the room for an hour. But it was diving into the deep end when we'd only planned to check the place out and discuss it.

"Or do you?" Aiden asked, coming close to me and lifting the hair by my ear. He kissed my neck and placed his hand around my throat, forcing my chin up as I gasped a breath of air.

"Yes," I said.

We breathed in tandem, his excitement as tangible as my own.

"How many men have you dommed?" I asked, curiosity overpowering my mouth filter.

He stared at me for a long moment. "Is this an interview question?"

I huffed. It was supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a gasp.

"No. I'm curious."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Quite a few, but that was years ago. I haven't dommed anyone in a long time."

"How come?"

He smiled, shrugged. "I got bored of doing it just for kicks."

"Oh. But…do you want to dominate me?"

"Maybe. Do you want me to dominate you?"

I let out a long, quavering sigh. "Yes."