After being released from the hospital in February, it's not until May that my father relents that I'm well enough to leave the house without an escort. Louise cheating then abandoning me, plus the subsequent five months without sex, have been tough mentally. So I decide to take that as my first opportunity to go back to the club and try to meet someone with similar kinks to fill my loneliness. I'm pretty sure I want a terrifyingly sadistic dominant to keep me in check, but I'll be happy if I find a playful submissive instead.

Sitting at the bar, I order myself a whiskey, neat, savouring the warmth as I sip it. I haven't drunk since that awful night in December. I barely remember it as more than a disturbing fever dream, yet the fear of those insidious emotions returning and the scars still mark me. I'll never fully erase that side of me, still, medicating with alcohol is the only way to hide my true, morose nature and appear almost sociable. Not aloof as Louise accused me of.

Eighties music is playing loudly, and I'm struck by the fact that this club hasn't changed at all since I came here with Charlotte over a year ago. Back then, I was new to this, but I enjoyed those six months we had together until everything fell apart between us. She'd taught me a lot about myself, and someone like her for a casual fling would be perfect before I rush into anything deep.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a couple arrive dressed in latex and leather, followed by an older man in a suit. Then another Dom with both a woman and a man on a lead, who wear nothing but underwear. My finger runs over my empty glass as I contemplate approaching, but it's clear they've arrived together as a group, with little space for me.

Time passes, but no one tries to approach me while I sit, people-watching because I don't possess the courage to take the first step. I end up drinking more than I should, knocking back multiple drams while I wait to see if anyone remotely intriguing arrives alone. This night is a bust, but it was insane to think I would have instantly found someone this way. Charlotte hadn't introduced me to her circle of friends, so no one knew me, and my confidence is at rock bottom.

I grab my coat, deciding I may have better luck somewhere else and down the remainder of my drink. As I attempt to stand up, I'm joined by a man with his two submissives who pushes me back to my seat. He orders a drink for himself, then one for me, without giving me a chance to refuse. I glance over him, in awed silence. He's wearing a harness over his bare chest, leather trousers, and boots; aged in his thirties and reasonably good-looking. The ladies with him are only wearing thongs. Both have reddened skin with thin welts across their backsides and breasts.

"You're Matthew, aren't you? I didn't expect to see you here again," he says, smiling at me as he slides over my glass. "I'm James. I know Charlotte and met you here with her last year."

It takes me a second to place him. At the time, I had only paid attention to Charlotte, who looked gorgeous and formidable, but I had felt irrationally jealous when she'd spoken to this man.

"I remember," I nod, feeling embarrassed by my rudeness. "Sorry, I was anxious the last time I came here. Thanks for the drink—"

"You're welcome. I don't usually address submissives casually like this, but I saw Charlotte a few months back, and she was whining about you being a switch." He glances around as if he's expecting somebody. "So where is your sub?"

"I actually don't have one. Or a Domme, either for that matter."

His eyes light up at my clarification. "Ah! So are you here hoping to meet someone?"

"Perhaps." I shrug my shoulders, trying to not sound too desperate. "It doesn't have to be tonight. I've just come out of something serious, so I'm in no hurry."

"Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not interested in men. However, I was impressed by what I saw and heard about you. Take this." He hands me a card with his contact details that I reluctantly accept. It's black, with embossed red lettering, yet simple in design. "I'm hosting a party next Friday. I have plenty of singles who attend, looking for someone, all personally invited by me. Bring your own toys. It's demonic, masquerade-themed too, so make sure you dress the part."

"Thanks..." My mind instantly imagines the debauchery, and my stomach somersaults. "But it's not Halloween for months?"

"Tell me about it," he sighs. "Anyway, I'll see you next week. No excuses."

He finishes his drink then returns to the dungeons with his subs, leaving me to mull over his invitation. I'm anxious, yet intrigued by the party. It's likely some kind of orgy, but it might be an excellent opportunity to meet someone. I need someone, even if I don't plan for anything serious.

------

I'm more nervous than I expected, and my hands are shaking as I put on my black suit, shirt, and tie, with a dark red brocade waistcoat. This won't be the first party I've attended to get laid, but there is a huge difference when sex is the main event, rather than a quick fumble in the bathroom. Not to mention the fetishes I'll be exposed to that I've never dreamed of.

My tongue flicks across my lower lip at the possibilities I could experience while I style my hair, then check myself out in the mirror, deciding whether to keep the beard. Thick yet tidy, it hides my immature youth sufficiently enough to mask my inexperience, so it stays. I may be making a colossal mistake attending, unsure how well I'll perform after being celibate during my recovery, but I've come to a plateau in therapy, and my loneliness won't fix itself.

It's only a forty-minute drive, but when I arrive, I double-check the details James had given me over the phone on my scrap of paper in disbelief as I stroll up the driveway. The neo-gothic mansion in front of me is enormous, and far more intimidating than the 'big house on the hill' he described. He's well-spoken, but I hadn't in my wildest dreams expected him to be this rich.

A couple walks up next to me, hand in hand, both wearing gold-lacquered Venetian masks, making my devil-horned plastic mask look like cheap costume attire. I can tell they're wealthy from the way they hold themselves, their lack of acknowledgement towards me, and the high-quality, possibly Italian-tailored suit the man is wearing. Just from a glimpse of his watch, I know it's worth more than a year's wages, and my sense of inferiority deepens.

The doors are open, and I'm greeted immediately by staff employed for the evening as I pass beneath the grand quatrefoil-motif archway. They ask for my name, check the list, then let me through with a striped red-and-black leather wristband. As I turn around with interest at the power couple behind me, I see they've been given single-coloured ones. Red for the man and black for the woman. These appear to signal something which isn't a bad idea at an event like this.

A lady in a black dress offers me a glass of champagne from the silver platter she's carrying. I gulp it back immediately, then scan the room from the corner I walk to, settling into the miserable idea of becoming a wallflower for the evening. Observing, rather than partaking in all this evening has to offer, despite my initial hopes. A few groups have formed, making polite small talk, and are equally refined in dress, unlike me in my thifted suit. There are only about fifty or sixty people in all, but I don't know how to approach anyone, and if they're like the couple earlier, we have little in common. I lack confidence, and I'm certainly in over my head.

Someone lays a hand on my shoulder, and I jump in alarm before shifting to look at the person. He's wearing an expensive black tuxedo, but I can't tell who's under the red devil mask. "Good to see you here, Matthew."

I recognise the mild voice as the organiser of the party, the man from the club and sigh with relief. "Oh, hey, James. How did you know it was me?"

"You look awkward, you're on your own, and you're wearing one of those bands."

"So this signals?" I ask, curious.

"You're a switch. Black is for dominants and red for subs. White is for an organiser. It makes this easier and gets that question out of the way, so you don't waste your time. And on the subject of wasting time, let me introduce you to some people, so you're not lonesome. I'd hate for you to come all the way here and not meet anyone. There's someone who's dying to meet you."

I feel trepidation immediately. "It isn't Charlotte, is it?"

"Hell no! She pissed everyone off the last time I invited her," he scoffs, much more animated than I've ever seen him. "I assure you, it'll be worth your time."

I walk behind him, then snatch another drink from the tray being held by another woman in a black dress. I don't like champagne, despise it even, but I'm grateful for it, since I need something to take the edge off. I desperately need to steady my nerves and the apprehension bubbling in my stomach. This is still some weird, upper-class party even without the sex involved.

He stops at a large group who are engrossed in conversation. In the middle is a woman wearing a red ballgown with a matching lace mask and platinum blonde hair pinned in an elegant updo. Her voice is shrill, to the point of almost being abrasive, but she has the attention of everyone surrounding her until I'm noticed. Her dark eyes narrow as I come closer, scrutinising my appearance. Her wristband is black, which instantly outs her as a dominant. She has my full attention, too.

James interrupts immediately, "Everyone, meet Matthew. I was discussing him earlier."

The woman forces past her friends and James to get nearer to me, standing awkwardly behind him.

"So this is the poor little lamb who was with Charlotte?!" the lady exclaims. "Oh, isn't he just adorable?"

"Yes," I reply, not knowing what else to follow with.

Her eyes lower to my wristband. "So it is true? You turned out to be a switch. I told her when I saw her last summer that you probably were. Wouldn't listen at all. I'm not surprised it turned out as messy as it did."

I glance around the group, wondering how much they already know about me. Most are wearing black bands, and they're all staring at me like a piece of prime meat. The woman makes direct eye contact as she awaits my response, and I turn away.

"Oh? You seem positively submissive right now, surrounded by us sharks. We can smell your fear, my dear, but it's quite alright. Mistress Claudia will take care of you."

She bursts into laughter, attracting the attention of everyone else in the room. This woman oozes confidence, sex appeal and dominance, but I'm not sure about her. There's no instant spark or attraction like I had with Charlotte or Louise, and despite not looking to embark on anything serious, it's not a possibility I'm entirely willing to pass on.

"Claudia, please don't scare our guest," a low, male voice says, approaching from behind.

I'm unnerved by his oppressive presence, which encompasses the air around me. He's tall, wearing a white tuxedo with a black tie, a simple black mask that only reveals slight facial hair, and blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail. I feel like I'm trembling next to a higher being as he stands beside me, then turns to look down at me with keen, green eyes. I can't meet his intense look for long and turn away in discomfort. A white band is on his wrist.

"Oh, don't be like that, Liam. I love scaring newbies. Please don't deny me that fun tonight."

"I apologise, Matthew, for her behaviour. She enjoys making grown men cry. Even dominants and sadists are afraid of her," Liam says gently.

James clears his voice. "This is the person I was speaking to you about. He likes to know who I invite to our soirees. I told him all about you the other day, and he was most fascinated."

"Oh, right," I reply, feeling timid beneath his intense gaze that I can still feel bearing down on me. I never knew he was considering setting me up with someone when he invited me.

Liam extends his hand to shake mine. I recognise the watch on his wrist as a Ulysse Nardin before taking another peek towards him. It would be worth several thousand at the very least. This is all a very normal way of approaching each other, and I find it slightly weird, like an interview. At some point, we're all expected to get naked and physically liberated with one another.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Matthew. I sincerely hope you haven't been scared off too much. I would like to get to know you more," he says, maintaining the firm grip of his cold hand with mine. "Ignore Claudia."

I recognise a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I turn away again. I'm intimidated, and have unmistakable butterflies as I recognise his plea to ignore Claudia as a demand. The only person who made me feel anxious like that was Justin, but I had never acted on it.

The lights suddenly dim, and everyone falls quiet. From the ceiling, a hoop drops down in the centre of the room, lit up with a brilliant spotlight. Music begins to play on a violin, and a gorgeous woman crosses the room in a rose gold silk gown. She climbs on the hoop and performs, dazzling us with her skill while she spins before us. It is truly breathtaking, but I'm distracted by the thought of him and his familiar, malevolent aura.

Liam slides up next to me and hands me another drink. I accept it with shaking hands and drain the glass. "Steady. You seem nervous."

It's not worth pretending. "I am. I can already tell what you're thinking."

"You can? Interesting..." he replies, replacing my empty flute with another.

The woman has slipped out of her dress and is only wearing nipple tassels and a thong, clearly to change the mood. It's uncomfortable while I try to pay attention to the sexual performance in front, feeling the heat of his attention upon me. But before I know it, a loud round of applause goes around the room, and Liam disappears out of sight as Claudia approaches.

"That Liam is the only person who isn't afraid of me. So are you feeling nervous now, my pet?" She licks her lips hungrily, eying me up again. I'm absolutely certain she's interested in me, but the feeling isn't mutual.

The room turns silent again as Liam steps up onto a platform accompanied by James. "Ladies and gentlemen, I extend my warmest welcome to all of you for our wonderful evening ahead. To those new here, it is my greatest pleasure to have you attend. I hope none of you have been scared off and will join us again in the future."

Liam shifts to me and smirks. It's an incredibly arrogant look, and I feel the flutter again. I need to find some space to get my thoughts together about this quick turn of events before he finds me.

"Let the fun and games begin!" James announces.

The doors open out of this room. Some people have already coupled off since the performance and take no time walking through. I follow behind, feeling apprehensive and confused. I have a good idea of what I will see, but it's been a while since I've been involved with anyone, and I'm not entirely sure what I want from tonight.

As I wander around, hopelessly lost, I notice that the rooms are opulent, with glass chandeliers, ornate ceiling mouldings, sumptuous chaise lounges, gilded mirrors and beds. Red velvet curtains hang at the floor-length, pointed windows, and the walls are papered in gold decadence. I've truly fallen into another world, beyond the mundane, gloomy existence of my current life. Already, couples and groups have started fornicating, against the furniture and floor, or wherever they drop, but I continue strolling through this labyrinth of doorways, hoping to find somewhere quiet for a moment.

In an empty, large, dimly lit room, I find sex swings, benches and more chaise lounges. There's nowhere that hasn't been set up for some kind of sexual activity, giving me no respite from my thunderous emotions clouding my thoughts. As I place my glass down, I hear a cough behind me and turn around. Liam stands in the doorway and shuts the door behind him. As he walks over to me, cornered like prey, he seductively strokes the black leather on the whipping bench he passes.

I swallow nervously, instinctively recognising the disparity in our size and my vulnerability. I hadn't even considered meeting a man at this party, and more often than not, I have always been the one who initiated an encounter. I'm not used to being powerless to another's advances.

He stops close to me and bites his lip, then leaning over, he whispers in my ear. "I want to do bad things to you."

I suddenly feel hot, and I can't respond.

"Cute, he blushes," Liam teases.

His hands reach up to my chest, and he shoves me down against the divan. He is stronger than me, as I thought, but it completely takes me by surprise, making me gasp. I detect the fragrance of limes and pine from him—an invigorating and intoxicating combination—and instantly I know exactly what I want tonight as we make eye contact. Poised over me, he removes my mask and takes a good look at my face.

He parts his mouth and kisses me deeply. I'm entirely taken aback and bewildered by the speed at which he makes his move, but I don't fight against him or shut down. I open up to him and let his tongue enter. His breath is cold like mint and as chilled as the hands pinning me down, reminding me of winter. Abruptly, he stops and pulls me up to my feet. It's over far too quickly, but I'm left panting and weak with need for him.

"Follow me," he orders.

His voice seems calm and controlled. I, on the other hand, am flustered and whipped up like a storm. I just nod and follow him as he leads me out and up the stairs. It seems like an age that we walk along the corridors, but he stops and unlocks a door. He ushers me inside before clicking across the bolt.

The room is vast with dark wood panelling, much larger than the one downstairs. A king-sized, heavily draped bed is against the wall. Right at the far end is a Saint Andrew's cross, which I instantly recognise from videos Charlotte had shown me from the parties she'd attended. The familiar flutter returns. This guy is serious, and from the immense rack of floggers and canes across his wall, he is definitely a sadist and not just dominant. I don't know whether to be thrilled or terrified by this revelation.

He removes his jacket and tie, then unbuttons the top of his shirt and cuffs, rolling them up past his elbows. I expect him to lay them carefully down, considering his immaculate appearance, but instead, he just drops them in a crumpled mess on the floor. He doesn't fully undress, but already he emits sex appeal with only the top of his chest exposed. I'm sure he makes both men and women flustered all the time, just like me.

"Take your clothes off," he demands, straight to business.

I'm uncertain, knowing he'll see my multitude of scars, but I decide to oblige and unbutton my shirt and waistcoat, then slide them off. The entire time, his eyes don't waver from my body, and he grins at the sight of me. He seems satisfied, so I continue undressing and undo my belt, then drop my trousers to the floor until I'm standing in only my black underwear.

He doesn't move or say anything, so I take that as a cue that he does mean everything. I feel hot again and shy, but I remove them. A wide, Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face, showing off dazzling white teeth.

I'm unsettled as his piercing gaze rakes over me from head to toe. I don't usually feel ashamed when I'm naked, but I feel like this is some kind of test, assessing my suitability. Malice flashes in his eyes, then he shortens the gap between us and kisses me again hungrily.

"I love tattoos and piercings," he whispers in my ear. "And, I've been looking forward to punishing you."

He pulls away then with deft hands, which betrays his experience, he binds my hands together and pushes me down to my knees with a shove. He then fastens a spreader bar to my ankles, exposing me fully and rendering me helpless. I gulp in anticipation. This is going to be my first sexual experience with another man, other than that brief fondle with my teacher that never went anywhere.

"You're a masochist, aren't you? Anything I'm not allowed to do?"

"Just don't kill me," I reply, staring at the floor, hearing my heartbeat thudding hard against my chest.

"No complaints at all? You're shaking."

"I'm a bit scared, to be honest. It's been a while," I admit.

"Understandable. Your safe word is?"

"Uh, spaceship?"

"Call me 'Master' while you're in my room."

He leaves for a minute to get something from the chest, then starts circling me, with a flogger in his hand. He twirls it, showing off his mastery as I glance up past his legs. Positioning behind me, he strikes me repeatedly on my upper back and arse. His initial strikes are more brutal than Charlotte's, but I embrace them.

The strikes seem to last forever with no gaps between, but I can tell this is just the warm-up. From his even breath, without any flagging in the intensity, I can sense he isn't tiring at all. He switches to overhead strikes. These hit harder, with a longer pause between, but I don't make a sound. I'm ready for more.

His footsteps cross the room, then he returns with a cane. It's some kind of synthetic one like Charlotte had, rather than rattan. My neck tingles, and the hair on my arms rises the moment I hear the whoosh, and I brace for the impact.

When the strike lands, pain sears across my arse and I cry out in pain for the first time from the shock of it. I hadn't been hit with a cane in some time, not since Charlotte lost control, that it almost brings tears to my eyes, but I relax, unwilling to give in so soon. The hits continue to land hard and without mercy, but I thoroughly enjoy the intensity of it, and for the first time in months, I feel alive again beneath his skilled hands.

When he's done, I'm left breathless and burning with pain from his ferocity. I think he's done with me, but then he shows me something new by dangling it in my face. It's some kind of strap, chunkier than a belt, but I've never seen one like it before. "This is a tawse. Heavy and packs a punch with three tails. Complaints?"

"No, Master," I reply calmly. I want to please him.

It hits with an intense, hard, thudding pain, worse than I anticipated. If I weren't chained to the floor, I may have leapt from my skin out of the shock, yet I remain kneeling on my trembling legs, awaiting the next flames of agony upon my buttocks and thighs, which arrive thick and steadily. My body is roaring, but he eventually seems satisfied and stops. "I'm impressed..."

He smiles at me with his wide grin again, then starts to remove the belt from his trousers. This is the part I'm most nervous about, and I gulp as I hear his zipper unfasten.

Standing behind me, he pushes my head towards the floor as his other hand gropes my member firmly. I flinch from the suddenness, but I don't stop him as he rapidly brings me close to orgasm with firm, deliberate strokes. I hold back and grit my teeth instead as he pleasures me. Then, without warning, his tongue licks my arse, and I flinch again, surprised. He continues, flicking and then kissing around my sphincter, and I let out a moan without meaning to.

"Mm, did you know I actually prefer men? Women are amazing, incredibly sexy even, but there's something more powerfully erotic about bringing a man to his knees. Switches are even better knowing they might try to challenge me if I show one ounce of weakness."

I feel him apply a cold dollop of lube, and I grow anxious again. With two fingers, he enters me while his other hand continues to jack me off in distraction. He then removes his fingers, and I desperately try to relax for him, knowing this is possibly my last chance to change my mind.

Roughly, he enters me, and I cry out in pain, but I'm incredibly turned on by the scenario of being entirely dominated as I turn my head to look upon him. I wish I had done this earlier, although I suspect my Catholic father will be livid if he finds out. He already found my masochism a gross perversion and told me as much, that he held me accountable for Louise's betrayal and disappearance.

The initial burning sensation subsides, and intense pleasure now replaces it as he continues to stroke my cock. My breathing becomes laboured as I get closer to orgasm. I know I desperately need permission; otherwise, I'm going to land myself in trouble.

"Ah... Please let me finish, Master," I beg as I squirm against the restraints on my ankles to get away from his touch. "I'm close, please?"

"Fine, I'm going to let you cum now," he says, finally relenting after a long pause.

His thrusting speeds up, and he grips my balls and tugs. I feel like I've reached heaven, and with a deep groan, I cum on the floor in front of me with him following shortly after, shooting cum across my back. I'm exhausted, but I haven't felt this satisfied after sex for nearly a year. My desires have been fulfilled spectacularly by him tonight, and I hope it won't be the last time.

I feel my restraints being removed, then Liam kicks me over onto my back. I look up at his half-masked face as he stands over me. Malice no longer glints in his eyes, but I'm awestruck.

"Wow, that was really something. How are you feeling?" he asks, dropping the sternness from his voice.

"Exhausted mainly, sore..." I murmur.

"I'm not surprised. I really worked up a sweat with that tawse."

He sinks to his knees, then kisses me upon the floor. I don't flinch away and kiss him back as he straddles me, pinning my hands down. Despite not seeing his face entirely, I'm definitely attracted to him. His strength has been breathtaking and beyond everything I hoped for.

His shirt hangs open, revealing a small amount of hair on his muscular chest. He lets down his hair, which falls to his shoulders and is golden and lustrous. Finally, he removes his mask, and I get to see the face of the man who's seduced me. With a chiselled jawline, sun-kissed skin and thick, but tidy brows framing his green eyes, he is an Adonis amongst men with his broad, muscular build. I'm rendered speechless.

"You've never been fucked by a man before, have you?" he asks, running his fingertip across my lips. "Are you feeling confused?"

"No. I've been attracted to a man before," I admit. "But you're the first to fuck me, Master."

He kisses me again, and I respond to him by licking his tongue. I'm feeling amorous and surprisingly playful, considering how much I ache already.

"I hope you're able to keep up with me," he groans, breaking apart from our kiss.

He hauls me to my feet and towards the St Andrews cross. He binds my wrists and ankles to it, facing away from him, and I'm now completely at his mercy again as the cold of the wood chills me. I don't know what he's going to use this time, but then I hear a crack of a whip, and I freeze at the sound.

The lick of pain is different as I'm struck on my back with a sharp sting. I get goosebumps as he cracks it again. His strikes are harsh, and I begin to release yells of pain. But I try to steady my breathing to endure this for longer and grip on hard.

A particularly savage lash makes me gasp out in surprise, and he continues at this severity, making me cry out. I concentrate harder on my breathing as he pauses briefly. I don't hear anything, but just feel an intense burn on the back of my legs with what he strikes me with next. "Fuck! Ahh..."

He keeps doing it, and I swear each time in response, then whimper. This guy is a sadist without question, and I know my noises are a massive turn-on to him, despite his quietness.

Eventually, I block out everything else around me and start to cross over to a sense of euphoria from the adrenaline and endorphins. I feel hands touching me on the back, caressing the welts and cuts he's left me, and I groan in pleasure at his softness. "Mmm... Master..."

Feathery kisses are on the back of my neck, and then my wrists are released from my chains. My ankles follow next. I spin around unsteadily, and his kisses are on my neck, jaw, and on my mouth. We end up on his bed, and he continues to kiss me and rips off his shirt entirely.

He moves between my legs, then enters me. I clench my teeth from the initial pain as he fills me, and I close my eyes, absorbing the connection of awed adoration I feel for him. He starts gently at first, but he builds up his speed, rocking the solid bed beneath us.

Lifting me up slightly, he grips me under both knees and takes me deeply as I relax and open up. The sensation is immense, and I groan. I glance up and see us reflected in the mirror above the bed and moan again, struck by the sight of our two muscular bodies passionately entwined.

Liam chuckles. "Just noticed the mirror, did you, Lover?"

My stomach flips at the name he's given me, but he probably called everyone in his bed that. I shouldn't look into it too much, despite the momentary pulse of happiness it gave me. "Yes, Master."

"Enjoying the show as I sodomise you? I'm going to fuck you all night, Lover." His fingertips dig into my flesh, and I let out a yelp of pain. He raises one knee and pushes my leg back farther. Suddenly, he slaps my arse, and I yell out, already burning from our last session. He continues to smack my raw skin as he thrusts. "Play with yourself and watch in the mirror."

"Yes, Master," I reply, still unable to look away. I grasp my cock firmly and start to masturbate at his orders. It really is a sight to behold, and I'm enjoying the filthiness of it.

With a grunt, he cums inside me and then withdraws. He pushes me onto my side, then spoons me, with his hands reaching around to play with my body. One hand strokes my arse, and the other holds my balls and tugs. "Don't stop playing with yourself."

I continue, using my other hand to pinch at my sensitive nipples until I orgasm and make a mess over myself, but Liam just laughs, gets out of bed and pulls me to my feet, threading his fingers through mine. There is no moment lost to clean-up.

He almost appears playful as he leads me out of his bedroom and down the stairs, naked, back to the communal area. The staff don't bat an eyelid as he removes two glasses of champagne on the way and hands me one.

He continues leading me toward where he wants to take me, with a strong grip on me, and we pass several rooms. One has the door open, and I see a woman suspended from the ceiling being caned. Eventually, we reach a door that he shoves me through.

It's a bathroom, with a freestanding bath in the centre, and he locks the door behind him. He turns on the taps, fills it with water and Epsom salt, then lights some candles and dims the lights. He takes the champagne and places it down near the bath before sliding into the water. With a finger, he beckons me over to get in with him and sit between his legs.

He washes me gently to clean my stinging welts. Surprisingly, his fingertips are soft and ticklish, and I let out an accidental laugh. Immediately, I'm nervous, thinking he will punish me for sure. Instead, he pulls me back into him and wraps his arms around me with a constricting squeeze. I never imagined I would be in a bath with a man like this tonight, but right now this seems incredibly ordinary.

"You're very cute," he murmurs into my back. "I want to hear you laugh again, Lover."

His hands start to tickle my sides, and I burst into laughter again, splashing water over the side of the bath as I try wriggling away. But he is relentless and doesn't stop until tears are running down my face.

"Spaceship!" I shout, my sides hurting.

He stops and laughs, pulling me back against him. "So, I finally broke you!"

I smile at the thought of him feeling frustrated at not breaking me earlier, but before I know it, his lips are on the back of my neck, and he bites down. Then his hands slide beneath the bubbles to play with me again. I react to him immediately. "Ahh!"

"Keep moaning for me, Lover." He teases my head, probing the opening while his other hand runs up and down. "Have you done sounding before?"

"Mmm, Master. Yeah..."

"Is there anything you won't do?"

I take a brief second to think about it. I'm incredibly open-minded to everything. I just struggle with the idea of sharing another after being cheated on. "I don't like playing with others, Master..."

"Never? What about if I share you with another?" He seems surprised. "You seemed okay with it when you were with Charlotte?"

"Well, maybe, if I were ordered to by you, Master?" He continues to toy with me, then inserts the tip of his finger into my urethra. I wasn't expecting that and lean back into his chest. "Ahh... Fuck... How do you know what I like?"

"Because I already know of you... Or did you forget?" His finger, lubricated with my pre-cum, begins to slide in and out like he's fucking me while the other hand continues. The sensation is out of this world, and I continue to moan for him as I watch him play with me. "How about voyeurism and exhibitionism? Do you like being watched?"

"I'm not against it, Master, anything you want," I gasp, racing with desire. I grip the edge of the bath as he brings me closer, hoping he'll allow me to cum.

"You're not allowed to orgasm, Lover." I grit my teeth, fighting against the pleasure rising inside me. "Cry out for me as much as you want, but I'm not going to go easy."

The fizzling in my stomach explodes, and my toes scrunch as I start to pant. "Please, Master... Let me?"

"No. I'm sorry to say that your experience with Charlotte will only compare to a warm-up with me." He remains resolute in his decision and continues his assault on my cock using his ankles to hold me wider apart. "And I've been dying to break her unruly plaything after keeping me waiting so long. Just like I promised I would."

"Dammit... Ugh..." I'm unable to dissociate while he speaks to me and prods my brain. It finally hits me, "Hah, so you're 'L'."

"Was it not painfully obvious during the thrashing I gave you?" He moves me into a kneeling position, lifting me onto his erection, and my pleasure increases. With his hands in my hair, he pushes my head against the side of the bath, holding me still as he continues to fuck me. I'm utterly powerless against his strength. "I meant it when I said you'll regret crossing me, and I'll no longer tolerate you hiding who you are. You previously agreed to it, but if we continue tonight, I'm having the evidence released. Do you understand?"

I blink at him, stunned that I fell straight into his hands; Charlotte's mentor, whom she took advice from and held in high regard. And the elusive man I foolhardily goaded over the phone, then sought out during a moment of drunken madness. I fully believe his words. Regardless of whether I walk or crawl out of here tonight, the reality is that discretion won't follow. I craved the destruction of my life, which had been ruined by a mountain of secrecy, and I'm going to get it, albeit late. My cheeks redden at the idea of being photographed with this fine specimen of a man. "Yes, Master. I understand, but how and where?"

He smiles wickedly making my heart skip a beat. "You'll find out soon enough."

Liam moves out of the bath, sloshing water over the bathroom floor as he aggressively drags me over the edge to fuck me while standing. I prop myself up on my elbows, keeping my head out of the water the best I can as my limbs splay apart on the slippery tiles. But, his thrusts are fast, and momentarily drive me beneath the water as my hands slide upon the porcelain. He remains relentless even as I splutter, slamming harder without a shred of mercy, with the sound of him slapping against my damp skin filling the room.

"Now," he hisses, yanking my head back with his fingers looped within my wet hair. With an animalistic growl, he cums at the exact moment as I, leaving me feeling profoundly connected to him as he cuddles into me. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else right now and have little interest in seeking out another for the night.

He wraps himself in a towel before helping me out, but I feel a little lightheaded and stumble into his arms. He lets out a carefree laugh as he looks down at me, before embracing me once again with a surprising tenderness.

"God, I didn't expect you'd be this adorable," he murmurs.

He leads me back out to the main room after drying me off and takes me to a couch, sitting me upon his lap. The others around us in the room watch us curiously as he kisses me passionately, with his hand stroking beneath my jaw, then through my damp hair like canoodling lovers.

"I want to make you mine, Lover," he says, caressing my spine and neck while his other hand rubs along my parted legs, then my returning erection.

"I'm not sure what to say."

"You only need to say, 'Yes, Master.' Allow me to collar you as my submissive."

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

The Cheshire cat grin returns. It's an unsettling smile; predatory in nature. A relationship with a powerful man like him is going to be violent, profound and exceptional. If I'm not careful, I'm sure he will consume me without a second thought, but I desperately desire to be fucked senselessly by him again.

He beckons someone in a black uniform over and whispers to her. She hurries away before returning a few minutes later with a maroon box which she holds carefully, upright. Then he stands up on the couch, fully naked and completely unashamed. Most people wouldn't treat their furniture like this, and the thought of him being a bit childish comes to mind again. "Everybody, please join me in the front room in thirty minutes for the main event!"

I shake at his words. Main event? Wasn't this the main event for the evening? What the fuck is going on?

He pulls me into a side room, hands me a bottle of water, and orders me to drink it. I'm trembling, wondering what he is going to do.

"Tired? Hungry?" he asks. I would have thought he's being kind and attentive, but I can see a menacing look in his eyes again. I nod, and he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a bar of chocolate and smiles. "I'm always prepared, Lover."

He holds out his hand with a piece of chocolate on it and offers it to me. I dislike sweet food, but I bend my head and eat it straight from his palm like an obedient mutt. With a smile, he puts another piece directly into my mouth, then kisses me, us both tasting it while it melts softly against our tongues.

"Thank you, Master," I say quietly.

He looks at me with curious, darting eyes, then wipes the small, remaining part of chocolate from my bottom lip. "I'll ask again. Do you have any hard limits?"

"Just don't maim me, Master. Not permanently."

"Any heart issues or other health concerns I need to know about?"

I shake my head. "None, Master."

Another woman in a black dress interrupts us to hand Liam his clothes and the mask he'd discarded. Quickly, he dresses in his shirt and trousers, leaving the buttons hanging loose. He puts the mask back on and then faces me again with a sadistic smirk, his eyes shining with excitement. I don't know what he has planned, but I can tell it involves me, almost as if tonight played precisely as he expected.

He places my mask back on, then, with a slight push, nudges me through a door into the main room, where the lights are already dimmed, before his awaiting audience.

"Signal me by opening and closing your hand," he whispers in my ear, and I nod in response.

He continues to force me forward, then down to my knees on the hard, wooden floor. A large crowd has formed to watch, still kissing and groping one another, and I become shy as Liam removes a long length of fluorescent green rope from a tray on a table.

I face towards the floor, not wanting him to see how embarrassed I'm feeling from the heat spreading across my cheeks. I can deal with having sex around someone else, but a room of people is intimidating. There were much less at the club with Charlotte, but I wasn't being displayed like a main attraction either.

He ties my arms behind my back with a series of knots, then passes it over the top of my chest, upper arms, before repeating. It then crosses over my triceps and chest. Eventually, he finishes, and my harness prevents me from moving my arms. Charlotte liked using restraints, but rarely rope like this, and my teeth clench at the sense of it digging against my skin.

He attaches me to a bar on the ceiling and then ties a rope around my ankles, pulling me apart. I'm entirely helpless to him as I'm partially suspended and the lights are completely turned off, with the rope glowing under a black light.

I hear a weird buzzing sound, then incredible pain. I glance up at Liam, millimetres away, and see the rope has been electrified by something he is holding in his outstretched hand. Shocks travel the length of the rope, stimulating me once more, and I start to question my life choices. I hadn't been expecting this tonight.

He smiles cruelly once more as I stop thrashing within the constraints of his rope, panting with fatigue. I don't know what he's going to do, but as he strokes a hand down my chest and then cups my balls, I can feel that his touch has become electrified and buzzes. Repeatedly, he zaps me. It's a strangely painful but pleasurable sensation, and I become aroused. As he passes over my piercings, I feel an intense buzz, stimulating me more.

He picks up what looks like a cane and strikes me several times with it on the front of my legs. I'm zapped before the blows land, but it isn't painful, just a slight annoyance. He then strokes the length of it across my back, legs and chest like a violin bow. The shock is continuous and intense this time. I yelp out, but he continues eliciting sounds out of me without mercy, pushing me to the brink that I almost beg him to stop. He moves over my cock, and I groan loudly.

Eventually, he is satisfied with my noises, but he isn't done with me yet. He cuts the rope suspending me, and I fall onto my knees with a thud, losing my mask. My arms and legs remain bound. He undoes his trousers and then enters me. A deep growl erupts from him, and he takes me aggressively. I moan as he fucks me in front of his guests, no longer caring about being seen.

A few minutes pass, then the lights flash on. Liam continues claiming me in front of everyone while his hands ravage and claw into me. Eventually, I can't hold back any longer, and I cum on the floor, but Liam shoves my face into it and continues his domination of me as I cry out. He takes deep, long thrusts then releases inside.

A moment later, he gestures for someone to bring the box over, which he opens. He removes a thick, leather collar and fastens it around my neck, but with the show now being over, everyone gets back to what they were doing before. Liam's arms wrap around me, and we stay like this for some time.

"I planned to make collaring someone an event. This is a fairly big deal for me. If you haven't realised, I'm both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. I may end up sharing you at some point."

I'm too exhausted for words and just nod. He laughs at my weariness, then finally removes the remaining rope from me. With a leash attached to my collar, he directs me upstairs to his room and orders me to get into his bed. He slides in next to me and strokes my hair as he gazes into my face.

"Mine," he says firmly before kissing me.

------

I wake to an unfamiliar morning, in another man's bed, staring at the naked, bruised reflection of myself above. Everything aches beyond belief, yet I'm revigorated after finally confronting the part of myself I've been too afraid to explore, granting me momentary closure. Now, the extent to which I tried to hide it just seems ridiculous and frankly pathetic when last night was nothing short of spectacular. It's like a new, far more wondrous life has fallen upon me, and I've denied myself of discovering it for too long.

Soft daylight already flickers through the leaded window, but silence still remains, far unlike the raucous noise during the early hours while I was bound and continuously fucked. I had meant to return first thing, before my father realised I had stayed out of his watchful eye, or been able to verify my whereabouts, but I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from my new Master.

I'd love nothing more than a chance to touch him; to trace the silhouettes of his well-defined musculature with my hands, followed by my mouth, then my tongue. He clearly works out, and I can't help but wonder how magnificent he must taste, look and feel after a gym session. There's so much more I need to discover about this man who made me momentarily whole and spent hours intensively tormenting me with pain and finding the exact spots that'll have me purring with bliss.

Liam has me enveloped in his arms, pinned beneath the athletic thigh he has over my waist. I have little hope of escaping unnoticed, but I try to get out to find my phone to mitigate the damage, and the grip around me tightens as he glares at me.

"There's no escape. Don't forget you're mine now, Lover. Now, stay still and let me devour you." He moves between my legs, pushing me onto my back and takes my cock into his mouth. He teases my helmet with his tongue, then licks my frenulum, urging me to grow stiff. "Do you like that? Then look at me while I pleasure you."

My eyes meet his immediately at the order. There is no glint or sign of malice like last night, but his gaze is fierce. I struggle to maintain eye contact as he takes me further into his mouth, circling around me as he moves up and down around my shaft before returning to my frenulum.

"Mmm," I hum, enjoying the treat he's bestowing upon me. I'm almost in a blissful daze as I think back upon the raw, primal sex we'd enjoyed together throughout the night. Protection hadn't even entered my mind while he had his way with me, and the act of fluid bonding already brought me closer to him.

It's laughable to think I sought him out in December at my lowest point, wishing to unleash my anguish through the gift of pain he promised. I never considered for a second that our meeting would lead to a new beginning, like a phoenix rising from the ashes and through the flames.

This man could possibly be my salvation. A brand new start.

He stops. "You're smiling, Lover. Anything you need to get off your chest?"

"I'm just happy to be here with you, Master."

"Good boy," he says, with brief creases appearing at his eyes as he smiles, before continuing. Reaching back to hold onto the headboard, my hips rising from the bed, I start to moan louder with him deep-throating me until, ultimately, I cum into his expert mouth. He swallows, then moves back up to the bed and grins as he poises over my body. "Don't ever think I won't give you anything. I am generous to those who deserve it. Now dress. I have guests to chuck out and work to get to."

I barely make the walk down the path to my beaten-up car moments later before my phone rings. I glance back at the house I've just left, assuming it's Liam and hoping I'll catch him waving me off, but there's nothing. I may have overestimated our chemistry in bed, thinking it was something more.

"Yeah? Oh, sorry, Justin, you know how it is. I met someone and stayed out all night. Please, just cover for me this once, okay, so my dad won't be on my back. He's treating me like a kid."

"Meet me at my house. I think we need to talk."

-----

The empty pub is stifling as I sit across from Justin, watching while he demonstrates his prowess around the pool table. He's always been better at this game than I, and pots several red balls in succession. Under normal circumstances, winning was never the goal, preferring the view of the concentration upon his gorgeous face, but I can tell he's stewing on what I'm about to be confronted with. The fact that he can barely look up at me speaks volumes for what I've long suspected, and it's killing me.

He misses his shot as I sigh, earning a foul. "Dammit, I can't do this. Fuck!"

I don't bother to get up from my stool to take my turn. This tension has gone on long enough after playing through two frames. "I already know why you called me. Just sit down and spit it out."

"Fine, I didn't think I'd ever have to ask you about something like this." He slams down a scrunched-up photo from his pocket, which I barely glance at as he sits down. "Can you explain this to me? This is you, right?"

It's a partially blurred instant film of Liam with me from last night. Not particularly graphic from the angle, but nevertheless obvious in the nature of it, with our bare torsos pressed together. "Is there anything that needs explaining? I mean, it's exactly how it appears."

Justin is shellshocked and still unable to meet my eyes. "It is... As in he—"

"Yeah, he fucked me, okay. Is that what you want to hear? I met him last night, and we just hit it off after a few drinks. Is it wrong to want to experiment with someone different after what I went through? You've never had an issue with me playing around before, but you're acting different just because it was with a man."

"It doesn't matter who you're seeing as long as they respect you, but he's a fucking sadist, Matthew, and you are out of your Goddamn mind!" he yells, making me flinch as he thumps the image. "Becka recognised him instantly and told me exactly who he is... You're going to get hurt, and it's going to be me picking up the pieces like I always do. Imagine how I felt seeing you lying in the street like that? If I hadn't come back, I dread to think how that would have ended, but I cannot possibly protect you from someone like this guy."

"I don't know what you expect from me! I engaged with therapy, I took all the pills they pushed at me, and jumped through all the hoops to get out of that hospital. At what point am I allowed to start living my life again? I'm not remaining celibate for the remainder of my years just in case somebody mind-fucks with me all over again... I hate being alone more than anything, and I'm bored staring at the walls waiting for someone who won't be coming back like my dad thinks."

"You have me. I know it doesn't seem like much to you, but you're like a brother to me. I'll do anything for you."

"But that's all we are. I have needs, and you're just my friend. This guy... I don't understand it, but I felt alive again, like I haven't in a long time. I was hoping that you, out of everybody, would be able to understand where I'm coming from. Do you want me to be miserable?"

"Dammit, Matthew. Don't..." For the first time today, Justin actually looks me in the eye, then takes both my hands in his. "All I'm doing is looking out for you. I'm worried it's too soon and you're rushing into the next big mistake."

I sniff back the pooling tears as I recognise his fears. I wouldn't be here without him, lost to the rage that had taken over me in my sorrow, and it's not even the only time he's saved me from myself. "I know you are, and you're the bestest friend I've ever had, but you need to realise I'm doing much better now. My priorities haven't changed, and I'm still going to search for Rebekah, but I need to try living my life again."

I smile back at him, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb before letting go. It was clumsy, and possibly the most nerve-racking moment of my life, but Liam has done me the biggest favour by shoving me under the spotlight like that. The lies have done nothing but ruin my life and eat me up inside. I don't want to be forced to hide Liam if it becomes serious.

"Fine, let's get another round in before heading back. Gonna need it before I get chewed out by your father for keeping you out all night." He shoves back his chair to get up when my phone rings on the table, with 'L' flashing as the caller ID. "Is that him? Ugh, just get it."

"Hey. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon," I reply, trying to play it cool and casual. I glance at Justin, who grimaces, clearly irritated by the interruption. "What was that? I'm actually out with my friend right now. I'll need to take a rain check."

"That wasn't a request, Lover, it was an order. Bring your friends, and I'll take you out for a few drinks. My treat. Don't keep me waiting."

He hangs up, not awaiting my answer or excuses. I clear my voice. "So, he asked me to meet him."

"So he's already got you at his beck and call, then. You sure know how to pick 'em," Justin says, rolling his eyes as he snatches up his skateboard and hoodie. "Let's go. I'm never giving my seal of approval unless I meet the bastard."