Warnings for some violence.
Kurt sat in the back of the car, dressed in his tightest pair of black leather pants and an equally tight, black shirt. A coiled-up bullwhip was attached to his belt. It could double as a weapon if necessary, but for the most part it was for show. It practically screamed 'Dom'. Usually, Kurt refrained from such obvious displays, but for today, the more dominant he appeared, the better, and subtle probably wouldn't work on the patrons of The Chain Chain. Anyone who frequented a club called like that had to be a little dim-witted.
Jack, in the front, wore his usual bouncer outfit of black suit, white shirt and black tie. Kurt had always thought that only an 'Elder' - name tag was missing to make him look like a Latter Day Saint missionary, but in truth, his build and a permanent scowl made him look much too threatening for that.
To be honest, Kurt was a little bit frightened. It was stupid, really – he was going to confront the other man in a club, after all, not in a dark alleyway. There would be people around, and even in a club like that there would certainly be someone to step in if things threatened to get violent.
Still. What he planned was the ultimate humiliation. A Dom, accused of abuse by respected members of the community, would never be able to re-establish himself in the scene. Word would spread into other cities, even other countries. If everything went as planned, Alex White would never be accepted into a BDSM club, and no active sub would go home with him.
And he was hardly going to simply accept that.
So, Kurt was glad about Jack's presence, and though he would never admit it, he was happy to see Santana and Elliot waiting for him outside the club.
Both of them looked fierce: just like Kurt, they had chosen to go all out Dom-wise today. Santana wore tight pants with high boots and a corset, and Elliot showed off his arms and his tattoos with a sleeveless leather shirt. Both were clearly paying the price, though; they had their arms wrapped around themselves against the cold.
"Good, you're here. I was beginning to fear for my teeth, they were shattering so much," Elliot said.
"How is it you take longer to get ready than I do, princess?" Santana asked, rubbing her arms.
"You are the victims of your own vanity," Kurt said, smugly tugging at his own long sleeves. "How is it you're here anyway? Didn't we agree I would do this alone?"
"We're just here for support. We're your entourage, your posse," Elliot said.
"It'll be more fun doing it together," Santana added.
Kurt looked at them and finally smiled, nodded, and said, "Then let's do this."
Inside, the club was dimly-lit and loud, and Kurt swore his boots stuck to the floor as he walked.
That might be just his prejudice though, leading him to imagine spilled drinks and...other liquids, and no one to clean up.
Apart from that, though, walking into that club was a heady experience, and something Kurt might repeat if he ever felt particularly bad. He had known he had a reputation in the scene, but that...
As he entered the main room, Elliot and Santana flanking him, the crowd parted like the red sea. The only thing missing to complete the impression was that the music stopped to play, but even so, it was almost comical. He could hear people whispering his or Elliot's name, and see Doms grip their subs' hands or leashes more tightly as if they felt they needed to prevent them from rushing towards him and throwing themselves at his feet.
He might be imagining the details, but fact was that their entrance made quite an impression that left nothing to wish for.
They made their way to the tiny stage, past tacky posters advertising 'Flogging Friday' that made Kurt wonder if perhaps today was 'Thrashing Thursday'.
He grabbed the microphone set up on the stage while Elliot asked the DJ to stop the music for a time.
"Hi," Kurt said when everything was silent. "My name is Kurt Hummel. A lot of you know me or have heard of me. I'm only going to interrupt your evening for a short time, but I have an announcement. Elliot Gilbert, owner of Defiance, and Santana Lopez are here toconfirm what I have to say."
He had never seen Alex White in person, but he had seen a photo in Elliot's file. Now, in the small crowd before him, he saw a man that had to be him: in his forties, handsome enough, but with a small beer belly and, hardly visible in the dim light, some broken veins along his nose and cheeks that told of his lifestyle. Kurt felt his anger flare up again, and he breathed deeply a few times to keep from attacking the man, instead channeling the energy into his speech.
"There is a person among you," he continued, "who calls himself a Dom, but is inattentive, neglectful and, in fact, abusive. Alex White had a sub bound and gagged, cut him and caned him, badly, and then left him alone, bleeding and without a way to get free or call for help, for hours. "
He took a deep breath to help calm himself and had the satisfaction to see the people surrounding Alex White step away from him until he stood there alone, everyone staring at him. Another layer of humiliation was added when someone turned on a spotlight and directed it at the disgraced Dom.
Kurt allowed himself a small smile and then continued talking.
"I urge every sub to stay away from him. I urge every Dom to quit including him in our circle, and every club owner to ban him for life. Men like him are a danger to us all. The subs that are abused by him, the new Doms that might see him as an example, the experienced Doms that are lumped together with him. People like him let the whole BDSM community appear in a bad light. Cut him loose before he harms anyone else. Thank you for your attention."
As he stepped down from the stage, he looked at Alex White standing there in a circle of light, his face red, clenched fists by his side, and he was very glad he didn't come here alone.
On their way out, he was stopped by a handsome young man in jeans and a shirt.
"Thank you," the young man said. "I was just about to leave with him. I don't know if anything would have happened, but if it had...I'm new to the scene. I don't know what's...normal and what isn't. He could have done anything and I wouldn't have stopped him before it was to late. So, thank you."
"You're welcome," Kurt said. "You should speak to other subs. It's the safest way for a beginner to find a Dom. Find out who is gentle, who won't push you too hard. Above all, make sure the Dom you choose will always respect your safeword. You'll find someone."
"Speaking of which," the other man said, smiling invitingly. "Would you...maybe allow me to buy you a drink?"
"Thank you. But I'm in a relationship, and I kind of want to go home."
Kurt watched as the man looked at a group of people standing nearby and shook his head, whereupon some people looked disappointed and went away. When the young man saw that Kurt had been watching, he blushed and laughed.
"I really wanted to say thank you. But also, they kind of sent me to see if you were... available."
Kurt laughed. "Well, you can tell them I'm the very lucky Dom of a wonderful sub, and neither of us likes to share, so unfortunately I'm not 'available'."
The next thing he was aware of was staggering against the bar as Alex White punched him in the face.
…...
Blaine was walking home from his meeting with Chandler with a smile on his face. It had been a really nice evening, interesting, informative and so much fun. Although Chandler had told him some pretty hard stuff about his past and the time before he met Kurt, they had never stayed maudlin for long, and Blaine felt honored by the trust Chandler had placed in him by telling him such private things. He had a feeling that given the chance, they could become good friends, although it still felt kind of weird that Chandler was Kurt's ex. A lot of the things they talked about had been about Kurt, what he liked, what turned him on, how to please him, what made him angry. Blaine hoped he hadn't been breaking Kurt's trust by talking about him - but then, Kurt knew Chandler, and he must have known that they would talk about the only thing they knew they had in common.
Still. Suddenly Blaine was unsure. He wanted to talk to Kurt, tell him everything and make sure he had done nothing wrong. It was late, but not that late, and he didn't have school tomorrow. He turned, not walking towards his own apartment anymore, but instead to the subway that would take him to Kurt's.
Kurt wasn't there when he arrived, so Blaine looked around, cleaned up the few things lying around and then settled on the couch to watch TV. He was just starting to get anxious when, about an hour later, he heard the key in the door.
"Hey," he said and turned to see Kurt walk in with an ice pack pressed against his face.
"Oh my god, what happened to you?"
"Blaine," Kurt said, sounding flustered but pleased. He took the ice pack away and revealed a little dried blood and a giant bruise. "It's so nice you're here. And that...that's nothing."
"Nothing? You have...a black eye and a split lip and..."
Blaine jumped up and hurried to Kurt, gently caressing his face with the tips of his fingers. Then he took a step back and looked at Kurt's clothes, at the tight leather and the obnoxious whip still coiled at his hip.
"You're all dressed up. Have you been to the club without me?" he asked, trying and failing not to sound hurt. Have you played?
"Hey. I'm suffering here!" Kurt said, and Blaine could tell he was joking but refused to let him lighten the mood. Suddenly, the evening had taken an unpleasant turn, and he almost wished he had gone home instead of coming here. At least what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.
He went back to the couch and sat down.
"Kurt," he asked, intentionally forgoing the 'sir'. "Where have you been?"
Kurt sighed and tossed the ice pack into the sink.
"I've been out to confront Alex White and keep him from hurting anyone else."