This is part one of a three part one-shot that I've had in mind for the past week. I know a one-shot is supposed to be a one chapter short story, but I started to write the first half at night and I got tired so I couldn't finish it. I'll write the sex and recovery portions later and post them when I'm done. Enjoy!
(By the way, this fic is entirely the fault of ablueeyedbeautifulletdown over at tumblr. Go blame her.)
Warnings: This will contain bondage, domination, submission, toys, and some violence. It also mentions sex workers and the sex trade in general, so if that kind of thing bothers you, you may want to steer clear of this work. I don't personally think it'll get too crazy because I'm a newb when it comes to BDSM, but I'm my own judge and don't know if my general knowledge might take things too far for some people. Read with caution.
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Law clutched the front of his jacket tightly as he walked through the snowy streets of New York. The heels of his thick boots clacked loudly on the pavement below, the noise joining the cacophony of the crowd jostling around him. It was 8:00 pm and the city was alive with activity, its citizens constantly on the move from one location to another. Stores remained open around the clock while bright yellow taxis zipped up and down the street, carrying passengers from one end of the city to the other.
Law pulled his spotted hat down further over his eyes and ducked his chin deeper into his scarf. Both actions served the purpose of protecting him from the biting winter chill, while also allowing him to avoid making eye contact with those passing by. He wanted to remain as low-profile as possible, especially considering where he intended to spend the majority of his evening.
New York contained plenty of seedy establishments, but the business he had in mind was by far the shadiest club in town. It was owned by a friend of a friend's business associate – someone far enough removed from Law's own social circle that he felt the man wouldn't pay him any mind. Anonymity was his number one goal tonight, as it was imperative in saving his reputation if Law completed the task he'd set out to accomplish. He knew it would be difficult to keep his identity a secret, as his name and face were synonymous with the public's idea of "the perfect man." His notoriety was a constant source of annoyance for him, as he was offered little privacy in his day-to-day life, but it was to be expected for a person of his standing.
He was Law Trafalgar, a young man in his late twenties who had become the medical director of Grand Line Hospital by the tender age of twenty-five. He was a medical marvel and a prodigy, a man who'd completed his schooling before the age of twenty and had climbed through the hospital ranks with an ease that was previously unheard of.
Law was one of the most well-known and well-respected men in the city, and he wielded enormous amounts of political clout in both New York and the country at large. He'd had brunch with the mayor on multiple occasions and had even been invited to speak with the president of the United States some years prior regarding a pharmaceutical crisis that had hit the east coast of the country.
Unfortunately, Law had been forced to decline as he'd been buried in paperwork and stuck in unending meetings at that point in time. Instead, he offered his findings to the president via a six thousand word dissertation which described the crisis in detail and presented possible solutions. As far as he was aware, the president had chosen to incorporate some of Law's findings and ideas into a national report. He couldn't remember what those details had been, though. He'd have to ask his secretary later.
All of that was beside the point, however. The problem Law was facing had nothing to do with the hospital, the president, or the community at large. Instead, he was dealing with an issue that had been niggling away at his sanity for close to three years.
Now, one would assume that a man with his financial backing and personal power would be able to fill any sort of void in his life without preamble. This was not the case. Law had something specific in mind – something that, if discovered by the press or his colleagues, would ruin his reputation and possibly cost him his job.
Law was desperately horny, and wanted to get fucked. Hard.
This need was one he'd harbored since first hitting puberty and had grown exponentially over the course of his career. Now that he'd reached age twenty seven, he figured it was high-time he sate his twisted lust. But this would be no ordinary fling. Law wasn't interested in a quick fuck with a nameless person who could be persuaded to keep their mouth shut. No, he wanted to be dominated. He wanted to be tied up, held down, pressed into the wall or a mattress and taken until he screamed for release. Law was looking to find a strong, arrogant, crass man who would fuck him roughly and treat him like a whore.
For once in his life, Law wanted to experience what it was like to be treated without respect or dignity.
Luckily, he'd been given the opportunity to live his fantasy when he'd overheard a friend of his discussing the legal troubles of one Doflamingo Donquixote. Law had quickly tuned in to the conversation when the words "sex club" had been thrown around, his interest immediately piqued. Acting as the curious bystander, Law had questioned his friend for further information and soon learned everything he needed to know about Mr. Donquixote before reaching a decision.
It was that single resolution that placed Law on the less-polished side of town, thick winter clothes shielding his body from the cold and the hungry eyes of passerby, alike. The young doctor had already received leering stares and vague offers of sex from both men and women – all of them prostitutes who were braving the snow and ice to try and pick up a meal ticket for the night.
Law ignored them as he continued down the dimly lit roads, his gaze travelling from the street signs to the business marquis above him. Finally, after travelling three blocks amidst a flurry of jeers and offers for blowjobs, he saw it – a medium sized building set in between a rundown convenience store and a porn shop. A bright sign reading "Dressrosa" in bold pink neon letters sat atop the structure, the single front door covered in black paint and guarded by a large man with shoulder-length lavender hair.
The bouncer was dressed in a crisp suit and coat, his muscular arms crossed tightly across his huge chest. He wore a severe scowl on his face, his posture straight and stiff. Like Law, his breath was visible in the freezing night air, the puffs of vapor rising above the man's head to disappear into the wind.
Swallowing and clearing his throat nervously, Law came to a hesitant stop in front of the man and stared up at the tall figure in slight awe. Being 6' 3", it was rare for him to encounter someone who towered above him. The club's bouncer, however, was easily a head taller than him, if not more so. It was a bit intimidating, but he'd made it this far and refused to back down.
"Good evening," Law greeted smoothly, meeting the other's gaze with false confidence. "I'm here to make an appointment with one of your employees."
The taller man glared down at him silently, unmoving. Not sure how this was supposed to play out, Law continued to address the bouncer awkwardly.
"Uh…may I?" he asked, motioning toward the door.
The guard breathed deeply through his nose, the expelled air hitting Law's face and making him squint irritably. He glared up at the taller man, but otherwise didn't make a move. While he'd love to teach this asshole a lesson in manners, he realized that this bouncer was probably aware that Law was here to get fucked in the ass by a complete stranger and pay good money to do so.
Still, the man didn't have to be a dick about it.
To his surprise, the bouncer stepped aside and directed him through the door without another word, his gaze leaving Law and returning to the streets as soon as the doctor disappeared inside. Law heard the door click shut behind him, but he barely noticed as his eyes feasted on the inside of Dressrosa.
Considering that he'd never been to a sex club in his life, Law wasn't sure if what he was seeing was normal for such a business. He was standing in a hallway with cement walls painted a bright neon pink, the floor covered in black tiles that shined under the dim track lights running near the ground on either side of the path. There was no artwork or signs anywhere on the walls, the only thing visible being a door at the other end.
Blinking rapidly to allow his eyes to adjust, Law slowly made his way down the hall and toward the closed door, his footsteps unnaturally loud in the quiet atmosphere. As he reached the entry, he took note that this door was similar to the club's entrance – painted black to offer a stark contrast to the color on the walls.
Holding his breath, Law worked up the nerve to grasp the doorknob and twist it, cautiously opening the door to view the room beyond.
He was shocked to find what looked to be an information desk in the middle of a sparsely decorated room, a single glass doorway situated behind it that appeared to lead into another hallway. This area was better lit than the previous portion of the club, with soft yellow lighting overhead and a grandiose painting of Correggio's Jupiter and Io hung neatly behind the mahogany desk. The floor was made of a shiny pearl-colored marble, while the walls were more sober than what he'd seen so far, the color choice a rich red as opposed to hot pink. There were four dark brown plush leather chairs located around the room, each far enough away from the others so the occupant could have a bit of privacy.
Staring dumbly, it took Law a moment to realize that there was a woman behind the counter, her bright green hair and obnoxiously large glasses offsetting her white business suit and jacket. There was a computer screen in front of her, as well as an office phone and an open portfolio. She smiled gently at him as he came closer, adjusting her glasses and discreetly closing the folder set in front of her as she greeted him warmly.
"Good evening, sir," she said, her voice soft and lilting. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to make an appointment."
"I see," she answered politely, nodding her head and turning to reach into her desk drawer. She removed a clipboard and grasped a pen from a cup on her desk, then handed both over the desktop to Law. "Please fill this out and return it when you're finished. Remember, be honest," she trilled, sitting back in her plush office chair and placing her hands in her lap. Her eyes followed him as Law chose a seat, then she turned to her computer and continued her earlier work.
Law perused the questionnaire he'd been given, eyes raking over the words. He felt a blush rising to his cheeks when he saw just what was being asked of him, but he figured this was an easier way of divulging what he wanted than flat-out telling the secretary. Putting pen to paper, Law studiously checked off all of the vulgar, demeaning, and sinful things he would be paying for tonight, his mouth watering at some of the options.
Sweeping through the section on "Bondage," he selected everything his deranged mind demanded, then swiftly moved on to "Toys" and "Positions." He noticed monetary prices next to each option, as well as small warnings or notes of concern. He didn't care. Let this stranger do as they like – he'd pay whatever it cost in order to fulfill his fantasies.
Reading through the warning text at the bottom of the page, Law acknowledged that the club wasn't liable for any injuries or sexually transmitted diseases he may receive during his appointment. It stated that while the club's employees and members were thoroughly trained and tested, he was completely responsible for any and all 'accidents' that may occur. He was also told that condom use for the purposes of penetration (digital or penile) was non-negotiable, and oral sex was performed with protection under any and all circumstances.
While he was disappointed by all of the red tape, Law appreciated the professional atmosphere of the club. He'd rather this night of passion not leave him with any nasty consequences. Well, nothing other than a few marks or bruises. Those would fade within a week or two – a disease would be something he wouldn't tolerate.
He checked off the boxes next to each warning to show that he'd reviewed and understood them all, reaching the final line before the box requiring his signature. This statement was short and simple – a request for his "safe word" in the event that he wished to cease all activities. Pausing in thought, Law blushed hotly when a single word entered his mind. Swallowing softly, he neatly wrote 'Cora' on the line, then signed the page at the bottom.
Finished, he returned the clipboard and pen to the receptionist who read over his choices carefully. Nodding once more, she spun in her chair and started typing the information he'd provided into the computer. As she worked, she gave Law a breakdown of the club's rules regarding his stay as well as what he could expect.
"Once I've input your requests, the system will let me know which room you'll be using and who your partner will be for the duration of your appointment. There is a bathroom and shower provided in each room, and we urge our guests to use the facilities before and after their appointment for sanitary reasons. You will find a robe and slippers that you may use while you wait for your partner."
The clicking of keys ended shortly thereafter, the woman smiling at him as she stood and motioned for him to follow her through the glass door. "Please allow me to show you to your room, sir," she offered, leading the way toward the exit and Law's suite for the night, her white stilettos clacking on the marble beneath their feet.
The two made their way down the hallway, the décor bland yet tasteful. The walls were a stark white while the floor was made of solid oak, the soft mood lighting provided by the lights overhead soothing Law's frayed nerves. He glanced at the numbered doors as they passed, the thick, dark wood drowning out any noise that may be coming from within.
Law's guide stopped at room 11, fishing a key from her pocket and opening the door with a click of a lock. Turning the knob, she pushed the door inward and stepped aside so he could enter.
The suite was absolutely beautiful. It contained a king-sized bed covered in crisp white sheets and a rich crimson comforter, the mattress and box spring set within a dark mahogany wood frame. Two matching nightstands sat at either side of the bed, each containing a lamp and knickknacks such as a digital clock and an ash tray. The large, grandiose headboard was situated against a cherry red accent wall, the rest of the remaining three walls painted a solid white.
There was a large chest at the foot of the bed, as well as a matching wooden wardrobe against the room's back wall. Multiple pieces of artwork were hung around the room, while wall lamps made of dusted glass emitted a soft, intimate glow. The floor was covered in the same oak panels that lined the previous hall, the surface shined to perfection. To his right Law spotted an enormous bathroom with a beautiful tub and separate shower.
A feminine voice behind him startled Law from his admiration of the suite. "Is it to your liking, sir?" the secretary asked, her glasses shimmering in the light.
"Yes, this is lovely," he responded quietly, still a bit awed by how clean everything looked. He hadn't expected a sex club located in the heart of the city's dirtiest district to be so regal. Mr. Donquixote must have decent taste.
"Wonderful. I'm very glad it meets your standards," she replied, stepping back out into the hallway. "Your partner will be with you shortly. Please feel free to use the shower and other facilities while you wait." Then she was gone, pulling the door closed behind her.
Left to his own devices, Law's nerves came back tenfold. His heart raced behind his ribcage, the organ feeling as though it was going to burst from both excitement and dread. Law hated to admit that he was scared of what was to come, but he couldn't help the unease that filled him at the knowledge that this was it. He was finally going to make his erotic dream a reality.
Anxiety wilting under his growing eagerness, Law stood up straight and began removing his winter clothing. Chin up in defiance of all he'd been taught to be considered 'good taste', Law stripped and headed into the bathroom to prepare himself for the night's events.