I'm such a horny little bitch! Hahahaha. Just and idea that came to me. I was watching CSI and it was this episode that involved a fetish club…and I envisioned a lot of it with Matt and Mello…So, it worked out all kinky like in my favor. Enjoy this while I work on Flaunt It.

I love the smell of sex. It's sweaty, bloody, icy and metallic all at the same time. It has a taste too, but that's so incredibly indescribable. There's no way to describe the taste of something like that. There are some people that love to rub it in your face how much they love the taste ad smell of sex. There are others though, who hide it, keep it hidden from the world. And then…there are those…who flaunt it, but in certain places.

This club is one of those places.

It has the smell of sex. But the scent is masked by a powerful mask of cannabis scented incense, and therapeutic candles with the aroma of vanilla and lavender. It smells like a Grateful Dead concert back in the good ole' days. Not that I'm that old, or have ever been to a Grateful Dead concert.

The lobby is painted an illustrious shade of red, almost the color of blood, or perhaps the color of lust. There's intricate, mahogany carvings along the walls, tangled within the vines of exotic plants. The room is shaped like a hexagon, and against the two sides near the door I enter, there are two benches. They're almost antique, and are fit with a red leather, so dark that it is almost brown. Before me…is the desk, with Lady Calliope. She's one of the two owners of the club. She's dressed just as beautifully as always.

Her breast was bound tightly in an indigo corset top, with almost spiderweb like lace crawling up her neck, as if a spider was living within the crevice of her bosom. The lace was just to catch the eyes of unsuspecting men, and lure them in before her sadistic nature slipped out and sucked the innards of the man's soul into her existence. She's pale. She always is. I never know if it's naturally like that, or just heavy white powder and eyeliner.

"Back again, I see?" she says enchantingly. She leans on one shoulder, revealing her nails. They're long, painted a marvelous shade of blue, and they shimmer in the light. "Would you like the usual?"

I smirk and shake my head, setting at least double my payment in front of her. "Not today." I say, smiling. "I want something new. I want something you guys haven't done with me before. There's got to be someone here who hasn't taken me for a spin."

Her face lights up in intrigue. "I never realized you were like that." She says with a grin. She places the hand on the money, but my hand slams down on hers.

"I don't want to see who it is." I say harshly. "I want it to be a surprise." Lady Calliope smiles once again and walks around the desk.

"Shall I escort you?" she asks almost curiously.

I almost want to hit her.

"I'm here to be dominated. Of course I do."

Lady Calliope yanks me by the arm roughly, and begins to drag me down the hall. Her skin is like ice. I'm already enjoying it.

She brings me to the storage room. Everything can be found here.

Chains.

Whips.

Gags.

Handcuffs.

Collars.

Enemas.

Machines.

Wax.

Latex.

Every. Fuckin'. Thing. A. BDSM. Fiend. DREAMS. About.

Lady Calliope throws me down on to a single, open card table chair in the center of the room. She knows how I like it. She usually is the one to dominate me.

But today, she's only preparing me.

She points at my shirt. "Take it off." She insists harshly.

I nod slowly and remove it, revealing the zipper's charm, the symbol for BDSM pride, as I drop it from my arms.

She stares at my pants momentarily, but decides against having me remove them just yet.

"You always come prepared." She says almost exasperatedly as she turns and rummages on a shelf.

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask coyly.

"Not at all." She replies, turning to me, and yanking me by the hair. In her hand is a mask. Not a blindfold. A mask. It goes entirely over the head, and has three zippers upon it. One over each eye, and one over the mouth. I've been waiting to use this for ages.

Lady Calliope forces it over my head, forcing every strand of my hair in with it as well, she yanks a bit, but I'm used to it here. Pain is what I expect.

I begin to ask for what else, but find it incredibly hard to talk with the mask on. It's almost skin tight. There's just a tiny bit of space for my flesh to breath, and two slits by my nose for fresh oxygen.

I can barely hear Lady Calliope. She's speaking but it's so hard to hear through the fabric.

She yanks my arms and holds them behind my back, and I feel the sensation of cool metal against my wrists.

I'm a real bondage slave now.

And then began the deliverance to my Master for the evening.

The door creaks slowly. Air hisses through the small gap as it shuts.

Heavy footfalls echo in the small room, approaching me, their target.

A small smirk plays upon their lips as they look down at me. I can feel it.

They have this presence. I can sense it.

It's masculine.

That was just it.

A man.

I feel the smirk widened, leather creaks gently with each booted step towards me.

I look around, sitting on another folding chair, despite not having any knowledge of what room I'm placed in appears like.

I look down, again, not able to see what lays before me. I smile beneath the mask. This is what I want. I did say I wanted something new.

Oh how I want to beg for my new Master's touch. But my hands are locked in place, and my mouth is blocked from speech.

I can feel myself getting stiff already.

I've been waiting for this.

The footsteps stop.

A boot kicks at my feet, shifting them further apart.

He leans forward, gripping my masked chin and tilting it to the side.

Hot breath hits the side of my neck.

I need this.

I feel blood stirring.

I feel flesh rising.

Please Master…dominate me…

Make me feel like scum.

I groan beneath the mask, my lips begin to move and plead for more.

"Nnngh." was the sound of the groan that I release.

It almost seems as if my Master for the evening was new at this

...Then again.

They all start this way.

He slaps me hard across the face, despite the mask.

I moan. This is what I want.

Yes Master…Please…

He moves close to where my ear is. He hisses directly into it.

"You will speak when spoken to," he grips on to my jaw tightly, jerking me forward, "Is that understood?"

I nod slowly at his forceful blow. Yes, my Master. Yes…Of course. I understand. Do with me what you will.

"You're trash, you know." He says again. I can barely hear him. He's farther from my ear, and the leather covering it is blocking any sound from getting directly to me.

I nod at his response, muttering to myself. "Yes. I am trash." He can hear these words, grips me by the jaw once again.

"I said…" he snarls, punching me in the face. He's wearing leather gloves, and the sound they make against the mask turns me on. "You will speak when spoken too!" He roars this at me, and I feel pressure between my legs.

The tip of his foot is right over my balls.

I want him to press harder.

I'd let my Master crush my balls to pieces.

Yes Master…please…give me more.

I nod at him again. Yes…anything.

"I don't get your type…" he snarls at me. "So high and mighty…" He presses his foot down on me. I throw my head back, wanting to scream.

I promised my Master I wouldn't.

"Only really dominant fuckers come in…" he continues, saying these words directly into my ear. "They need to sensation being fucked with." He wraps a hand around my chin, holding it up so if my eyes were visible, I'd be staring my Master in his eyes as well.

I'm not worthy… I want to tell him this.

"You must be pretty sick." He says to me.

I feel intense heat on my chest, right above my nipple. I cringe, and can't help but scream.

It's audible through the mask.

It's a cigarette burn. I can feel the small circular burn flaring up with heat.

"What did I say!?" he roars at me.

My head is thrown to the side. He's risen a leg and kicked me square in the side of the head.

I have said I wanted something new.

I turn and face his general direction again.

Yes Master…More…

"What's your problem?" he continues. "You should fuckin' know how to submit, shouldn't you?" He grabs me by the back of the mask. "If I fuckin' hit you, you stay down, you useless piece of shit!"

I nod slowly at him. He's right.

He is my Master, and I am his Slave.

Yes Master…

Whatever you say.

Another thud to the head, he's kicked me again, but this time, twice as hard, knocking me from the chair. I fall to the floor. It's cold.

Cement.

But yet…

It feels spotlessly clean.

Yes Master…I deserve this. More. Please.

He steps towards me, I can almost feel him already.

My nipples harden.

I'm trying to get up, but my hands are lame and useless behind my back, chained together with steel.

Master runs the toe of his boot along my chin, lifting me up.

"Much better." He purrs, running a leathery hand along my chest.

He's crouched down to my level. I can tell from the creak of leather.

The mask has been knocked around a bit.

My hair is sticking out the back.

"If you keep this up…" he continues, rolling one of my nipples in his hand. I moan softly into the mask. He pinches me harder. This time, this is punishment for speaking.

Moaning is more accurate.

"I think I should reward you." He says. His other hand is upon the mask, grasping the zipper of my mask over my mouth. I nod.

Yes…Ma—"ster…." My words come out for him to her. Cool, sweet oxygen enters my lungs. I take it all in hungrily.

But that hunger isn't satisfied.

My Master covers my mouth with his lips. Usually…it's against their code to make such contact.

I moan. His lips are warm from the cigarette he placed on my chest. His tongue penetrates my mouth, it's wiggling like a snake being held down by a pitchfork. His mouth is so delectable.

I'd take him home if I could…

Oh Master…Yes…

I've got nothing but a layer of leather between my legs to hide my erection. The bulge is throbbing and it needs to be pleased.

Now.

But I can't reach it.

Master pulls from me. My tongue sticks out stupidly, waiting for him to make another move.

He's still crouched down near me, but his hand is grasping the back of my mask. I don't dare speak. I want to. But I don't dare.

Master told me not to.

"Do you want to feast upon the eyes of your Master?" he asks into my ear. "Do you want to see the man who's abusing your frail form and satisfying your every fetish?"

I nod.

I get no answer for a moment.

Master strikes me in the face again.

"Speak."

I nod again. "Y-yes Master." I croak deeply, my voice sounding nothing like my own.

"Much better." He says almost amusingly. He grasps the back of the mask. "And your freedom from this is your reward."

Slowly, my face is freed from the confining leather as he lifts it from my head.

I gasp heavily as my mouth is freed.

Master yanks my hair as I gasp.

I nod. I know not to speak.

Yes Master, I understand.

My eyes are slowly revealed.

Master yanks my hair back.

My eyes open.

I stare my Master in the eyes.

Green, almond shaped, bright, but sadistic.

Glowing and gorgeous.

He stares at mine.

Azure, oval shaped, empty and masochistic

Hazardous and hateful

And at the same time…

We say one another's name.

"Matt?"

"Mello?"