By Rubbag

We followed him out into what seemed to be a small cloakroom, the walls being lined with pegs and coats other things.

“Welcome to The Dominus Club.”

I find my hand locked into his as he shakes it.

“I am Marcus. I am also the owner.”

I find myself having to look up at him, tall 6 2? Forty? Fifty? Silver black hair.

“And you must be Jed.”

Strong almost Roman features.

“We have heard a lot about you, Jed.”

Striking, even, and so hard to let go.

“I am so glad you have decided to play.”

My hand still outstretched even after he’s withdrawn his.

“Wait, Dominus, it’s not Jed I …” says Josh nervously, and its only then that I realise that he’s been ignored as the man turns to look at him for the first time.

“You know the rules, Josh, no play until your forfeits are settled.”

No threat in the man’s voice, he doesn’t even need to raise it, the tone is enough.

It’s only then that I realise how much presence this man really has as I see Josh, who normally backs down for no one, visibly shrink before this man. A strange contrast, this suited gent taller than but nowhere near as broad as the spandex-clad boy he looks down upon, and then I also remember that I’m dressed the same way as Josh.

“Jed will play for himself. They’re the rules Josh. You know that.”

The man look ups, and it’s only then that I realise that the doorman (door robot?) had vanished as he reappears now, carrying something in his hands, a mass of metal and strapping.

“You know that you’ve forfeited your rights to clothing, Josh.”

Josh gives me a small shrug as he turns to me and then bends forward and slowly unties his pumas before putting them carefully on the benches, which line the room. Then in one swift motion he peels off the under armour top, exposing his massive chest and then he reaches down to strip off his tights. He turns and faces, all of him on show except what the chastity suit hides. He looks magnificent looking really big, even bigger than me. And then he walks over to the corner of the room, there are some scales there, the large ones like you see in public cloakrooms. He steps onto the platform, and the dial goes and up and round, but not far enough.

Josh looks down at the scales and lets out a sigh I can hear across the room and either he or I need to be told.

“255 pounds, Josh. Your forfeit is still due.” The man beside him puts his hands on Josh’s shoulder

“Unit Two, prepare Josh for his forfeit.”

The other man, the door man, reaches around Josh from behind, pulling some sort of rubber strap around his chest above the abs. There is a sound like a snap from behind Josh’s back and then the strap stays there by itself. Then another at the waist, more over the shoulders and then the biceps, the elbows, the wrists. One snaps closed tight around Josh’s neck, holding it up, and a metal ring dangles at the front. The man kneels down, and Josh’s thighs and legs get the same treatment as his body. The man, the unit still showing interest in what he’s doing, begins to connect the strapping with thinner cords of rubber running vertically. Then finished, he stands up and pulls Josh’s arms up high behind his back before tying them there and last of all Josh’s mouth open to accept the bright red ball gag, which is tied tight to the collar. I can see the look in Josh’s eye. He didn’t want me to see him like this, like some fetish object, but there is nothing he can do about it.

The man from the elevator, still a complete blank, just reaches up to clip a leash onto Josh’s collar before turning to lead him out of the room, leaving me stunned at what I’ve just seen.

“Well, Jed, to you still want to play?” Josh has gone and now and I’m alone with the owner, perhaps with Josh’s owner.

“Josh tells me your very good?”

I turn round and find that he’s right beside me.

“What do I have to bet with?”

Very close.

“Why, with money of course, Jed — if you have it.”

I’m suddenly aware of his body, having thoughts I shouldn’t have.

“And if not, credit held against a forfeit, like young Josh. He was playing at 260 on seven-card stud.”

“260?”

“260 is his forfeit. We advanced him $30,000 of credit against his chastity, which he stays in until he either repays us or he comes here with 260 pounds of pure muscle.”

“Can someone else buy out his forfeit? Can I?”

“Yes, at any time. If you have $30,000.”

I make my mind up in a second, walking across the room, kicking my pumas off as I go before standing on the scales. The dial swings round and up and bounces gently before settling onto 240 pounds.

“How much am I worth to you? Seven-card stud, same as Josh.”

He walks up to me, taking a keypad from his pocket, which he enters some figures into.

“A 260 pounds muscle forfeit secured through chastity. A 240-pound start at $1,000 for each pound — that’s $20,000 of credit to repaid at less than 5% body fat.”

He hands me the pad.

“You understand the terms, Jed?”

I nod at him.

“Then press your thumb onto the pad.”

I look down at the figures glowing on the translucent pad and press my thumb onto the place marked. The pad blinks once then refreshes with CREDIT CONFIRMED, and then again and I read.

PLAYER: JED/06

CASH: $ 020 000

CREDIT: $ 020 000

BETS: – None –

I make to give the pad back to him, but he stops me.

“No, keep the pad, Jed, you’re going to need it.”

I make to put the pad in my pocket and then feel somehow foolish. I’m standing only in my under armour, and they don’t come with pockets.

“This way, Jed.”

And I follow him through the same doors I’d seen Josh go through just five minutes before. I felt nervous and excited by the gamble, having to clear a $30 000 profit to win us both our freedom, and I knew the cost of failure. I’d just seen Josh led out on a lead like a piece of meat.

I come to dead stop, not wanting to step down onto the floor of the club. He’s standing just ahead of me, looking back with amused expression on his face.

“Don’t worry, Jed, it will take your weight.”

The floor of the club is made out of glass, great plates of it connected by lines of what look very thin metal strips. The effect is made worse by the fact that all the lighting for the room floods up from the real floor some twenty feet below. I put out one foot and place it slowly on the floor, the glass is cool on my bare feet but to my relief there is no give in it at all. I step on the floor and follow him, deciding it’s best not to look down at all.

“Not so bad is it, Jed? The Club gets many people the first time.”

Now that I know I’m not going through the floor, I can take in the feel of the place. Before this freaky glass floor and seeing what happened to Josh, I has been expecting the tense hush of a card hall, but now I didn’t know what to expect. All I can feel is my stomach tensing up, not a good sign before a game. Then it comes to me, the feel of the place, the air not tense but heavy and deep and hard with strange noises, sounds which should be familiar but which I cant recognise.

“Jed, do you want to see some of the club before you play?”

“Err, sure, why not.”