The area was run down, buildings in a fragile state, so many windows knocked out, roofs that leaked and doors that wouldn't stay closed. Most abandoned buildings had plywood sealing off all their doors, thick sheets screwed to the door frames. Down Junction Street and adjacent streets scattered in between the vacant buildings were bars, cafes, smoke shops, porn shops, check cashing places and fetish shops. The upper floors housed small struggling businesses, ancient bail bondsman, tax preparers and internet businesses no one talked about, and old apartments heated with steam furnaces in winter and stifling hot in summer having no air conditioning.
Half way down the main section of Mill Town as the area was called was an alley; narrow and dark. About fifty feet in there was a small steel landing with three steps up from grade, lit by one small industrial light fixture. Its light barely enough to illuminate the landing, it was so dim and its shade so cloudy with age. Walking along the sidewalk, a glance down the dark alley wouldn't be enough to notice it. But several nights a week they came, in groups of two or three, sometimes more, and some came alone; dark and mysterious, slightly frightening to those who didn't know them. They would stroll down the sidewalk, turn and disappear in the dark shadows, only to re-emerge at the landing, coming up to the door. It was their place, a place many thought only existed in movies, or in their fantasies. There was no big sign announcing its location, no fliers posted along the power poles lining the streets, but when you approached the door there was the small painted image of two ravens flanking a vertical sword and the name of the place within; Odin.
Hunter lived several blocks away in the newest arts district, which meant cheap rents in old buildings, but ones being rediscovered, being renovated with coffee shops, galleries, resale shops, and the upper floors containing architectural firms, graphic artists, and internet businesses looking to strike it rich. The upper floors also contained apartments, studios in old office or warehouse buildings, and it was in one of these Hunter found himself living after moving to the city. He had finished college and found a job with a graphic artist firm. He didn't make much but he was able to afford his own small studio apartment; one room with a bath where the kitchen was a compact arrangement along one wall.
Hunter had spent weekends exploring the city, spending the daylight hours finding shops for unique clothing, old book stores, gaming stores, or just places to sit and people watch. He had made a few friends since moving into the city but their likes and his didn't always align. On weekends they would go to a sports bar, or some night club playing the latest dance music, displaying the latest fashions; places to watch people, and to be seen. He didn't really hate those places as much as he found them boring; the music mundane. Hunter had spent several weeks exploring his neighborhood and moving back into the other established sections of the city, but what he sought still eluded him. One late Saturday afternoon he was walking along the edge of his neighborhood, getting close to what he knew as the old warehouse and factory area of mostly abandoned buildings when he saw two women coming down the street. They were coming up the hill from the area he had thought not worth exploring. One was dressed in a long black leather dress, open around the shoulders, the body a corset, tied tight revealing her narrow waist. Her thick soled boots peeked out with each step as she approached. Her hair was an unnaturally bluish black, pulled up into a ball on top of her head, and chains and necklaces hung around her neck, earrings and studs lined both ears. The other one was wearing a black bra under a while lace top and a kilt, its bright red and green pattern garishly standing out against the drab background. She too had on boots, tall, tightly laced up boots that came up to her knees. Her hair was a shade of red that didn't occur naturally. Hunter stopped and watched them approach, transfixed by their look. As they approached he moved to the side to let them pass.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
The girl in the kilt looked at the taller one in the leather dress and shrugged her shoulders. The taller girl turned and faced Hunter.
"Yeah, what would you like to ask" and Hunter realized it was a guy, or at least someone born in a male body. He froze for a moment, being caught off guard.
"I was...just wondering where you got your clothes? I've walked this city over and find nothing like that anywhere" he finally asked.
"You like this do you" and both smiled at him, then the girl in the kilt spoke for the first time.
"The best places are down in Mill Town, just follow this road down to the bottom of the hill and you'll come to Junction Street. You can't miss it; it has rail road tracks running down the middle of it. Turn right and go down a couple of blocks and you'll find everything you are probably searching for" she told him. When she was finished they both turned and continued on their way, walking away casually, talking amongst themselves as if the encounter with Hunter hadn't happened.
He was stunned that the clothing shops and the fetish shops had been right here all along, just blocks from his apartment. He knew he wasn't really dressed like most of the people he saw milling around but didn't feel alien either. Hunter had naturally white blond hair he kept short on the sides but long on top, letting it stand up wild and his naturally pale skin made his hair that much more vibrant. He was tall, nearly six feet three but skinny; a body with long limbs that made him seem spidery, something hard to contain. He made his height more extreme by wearing boots with thick soles, heavy black boots made popular two generations ago during the punk movement.
Bags in hand from his shopping excursion he then explored the area, sticking his head into smoke shops, bars, and other shops. He grabbed a sandwich at a café that had a picture of Kafka on the wall mixed in with the posters of bands or announcements for one fetish themed party or another from the recent past. It was strangely enticing and Hunter was soon talking with some of the other patrons, two guys and a girl, learning about the clubs and bars in the area. They told him about B&G's, Dominic's, The Dock and other clubs that were in Mill Town. They told him which were strictly gay or straight or the ones that catered to both, which most seemed to do.
"Which club do you think is the best...the one that really serious people like to go?" Hunter finally asked, wondering if there was one that stood out to the three of them. They looked at one another passing a look between them, then the girl looked at Hunter, leaned forward, lowered her voice.
"The best place is Odin, but you can't get in" she told him.
"What do you mean I can't get in? How do they stay in busy if no one can get in?"
"Well, they have a large membership and only those with invitations can get an application and get in. It's a way to keep out those who really don't belong; those that would probably cause them trouble."
"But if I really wanted to get in...how would I get an invitation?"
The three of them stared at Hunter for a moment, not saying anything.
"Well, come on...how do I get this invitation?" Hunter asked again.
One of the guys, the one who had spoken the least, wearing wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and a collar which the other guy was holding the leash attached to it, finally spoke up.
"Go to the fetish shop down on the next corner and tell the woman behind the counter Nick sent you and you need an invitation to Odin. Don't ask for it, but tell her to give it to you. Understand?"
As if departing this information was too much for them, they told Hunter good bye and left the café. Hunter was soon out the door on his way to the fetish shop. He realized as he told the woman to give him an invitation he didn't know where this club was located. When she handed him the invitation all it had on it was a place for his personal information and the word Odin across the top. On the back was a sword flanked by two ravens. With it in hand he leaned over the counter and as casually as he could, asked the woman what the address was to Odin. She laughed and told him it didn't have an address. She stood up and began to walk toward the back of her shop. As she was going away from him she told Hunter to go down to the next alley and he'd find what he was looking for; then she was gone.
Hunter spent the late evening hours rummaging in his closet, digging out boxes of clothes and items he had not had out since college. With these items he tossed his new purchases and surveyed everything he had spread across his bed and over his sofa. By eleven o'clock he was dressed to go and headed down to his car deciding to drive over instead of walk. He had on a black thin gauze fabric shirt that did not conceal his thin body beneath, revealing the large tattoo of a primitive symbol wrapping around his left nipple. He also wore black leather pants that had a tight cut from ankle to waist with a wide purple belt and his black boots. Parking was more difficult than he imaged, the street being busier than anticipated. He had to walk four blocks back to the alley and when he got there he saw three people entering the door. He walked into the alley, through the darkness, keeping his eye on the dim light at the door. On the landing he finally saw the painted image on the door; the sword flanked by two ravens with the word Odin underneath. He tried the door but it was locked, so he knocked hard on the door twice and waited. Soon a guy wearing some sort of rubber suit, so skin tight you could see his every shape and feature, including his cock angled over to the right.
"Yeah, what do you want?"
Hunter held out the invitation as he said nothing, waiting to see how the guy would respond.
"Ok, go over to the desk and fill out a membership" the guy told him as he looked Hunter up and down, surveying him. As Hunter walked past he felt the guy rub his ass. As he filled out the form giving them his personal information he could hear the music vibrant through the wall, thump through the air. When he was completed he paid the fee and was shown the door entering the main area of the club. When the door opened the volume of the music increased threefold. Deep hard rifts, base pounding the air came down the hall Hunter was following.
He didn't know what he expected, but he was still surprised to find the main space was a large open space, two stories in height. A mezzanine on one end had a few people milling around but the main crowd was standing in the middle of the room in a large square arrangement. Hunter soon saw they were standing at a handrail, overlooking a pit. It was about twenty feet wide and thirty feet long and about ten or eleven feet deep. What it had been before Hunter had no idea, but it was now the dance floor. A space lost in stark shadow, cut through with bright white lights in spinning fixtures suspended just over the pit on beams crisscrossing over it, making the pit seem even more removed from the main space above. Overhead one guy, bound up in rope was being swing back and forth over the pit. Hunter thought he was naked at first, but realized he was wearing white briefs. He was tied to hang face down and as he swung overhead Hunter could see he was hard, his cock obscenely tenting out his briefs with the ropes tied in such a way as to frame his crotch.
Hunter made his way to the bar and got a drink, turning to lean against the bar to watch the scenes unfold in front of him. Sometime after midnight the club was packed and Hunter having watched them arrive realized the club defied classification. He saw men with women, men with men, women with women and groups he wasn't sure who was a man and who was a woman. He saw men and women traded like property from a woman to a man and vice versa. Hunter knew he had found the place he had been searching but he also knew he needed to be careful, for there was some things he didn't like and that was something that could easily get pushed on him if he hooked up with the wrong person. He walked away from the bar to explore the club, to see the fetish scenes around the room, to see the mezzanine with its vendors where he saw the couple who directed him to Mill Town. The girl acknowledged him and they gave each other a smile as they moved on, each in their own direction. Back on the main floor he looked for the stairs leading down to the dance pit and soon found it against the wall. Downstairs he found additional bathrooms, a sitting lounge that was painted all red; walls, ceiling, and floor. Even the furniture was red. He moved on, following the wide hall as it came to the opening into the pit. It was packed with people, dancing with each other, or dancing alone. The music was louder down here, trapped in the confined space as it bounced off one wall then the other and the lights seemed like solid beams of white slicing through the dark shadows, hitting shiny black rubber and leather, hitting chrome chains, buckles and piercings. The dancing was violent, wild, and erotic. One guy had on white mesh briefs exposed in the opening of his chaps, his cock and balls visible. Several women had pasted things on their nipples being naked from the waist up. Hunter knew being so tall could make him look ungainly on a dance floor but he didn't care; he loved to dance, and he moved out into the pit and began to dance, his long arms moving through the air, his hair appearing to glow in the darkness until a light cast its beam over him. As he dance he saw the two guys and girl from the café over in one corner dancing with each other, moving almost as one, in a tight circle, allowing no trespass by anyone else.
It was hot in the pit, the heat trapped between the bodies and Hunter was soon sweating, but he didn't slow as he moved among the others. At times he closed his eyes and revolved in place, lost to the beat, the charge that filled the air. After he had been in one of his trance states he opened his eyes to see someone standing in front of him, a wicked smile and a stare that didn't shy away. He was tall but still shorter than Hunter, but he held his own up next to Hunter, as Hunter couldn't help but look him over, down over his bare chest, lean and toned, a tattoo of a snake coming up out of his black pants, arcing around his navel and up to his right nipple where it appeared ready to strike. His black hair, when the harsh white light swung over him reflected back violent. The chain around his neck held a padlock, a heavy steel thing that kept the chain pulled down, as it swung between his nipples. Hunter looked up into his face and saw the look, a need to connect, a desire he understood. He moved up to the guy, close, his body within inches of the guy and he looked down into his eyes, dark brown eyes that appeared to be solid giving up no secrets.
They stood for a moment each sizing the other up, then Hunter reached out and ran a finger over the snake tattoo, from its head down to the place where it disappeared into his pants. He leaned forward, his face up beside Markus' face.
"You want to dance, or go grab a drink in the lounge?" Hunter asked.
Markus grabbed Hunter by the neck and pulled him close, his mouth up to Hunter's ear.
"Let's go get a drink and talk about how you're going to fuck me in the ass" he said in Hunter's ear, his hot breath blowing over it. At the bar they didn't talk much, just random comments about some of the sights they were seeing in the club, Markus telling Hunter how long the club had been around and how things got started in Mill Town and Hunter explaining how he found the area and was still discovering what was here. For Hunter the tension between them was sharp, the pounding vibration of the music, the stark contrast of dark shadow and bright beams of light and the carnal atmosphere, its lascivious feel made his heart race. He reached over and grabbed the padlock hanging around Markus' neck and pulled him over, kissing him roughly on the mouth. Markus kissed back but held his body in a passive posture. When Hunter pulled back Markus ran his tongue over Hunter's face and moved to his ear.
Markus lived only three blocks away in a studio apartment in an old ten story warehouse building. From the exterior Hunter was apprehensive about the interior and what Markus' place could be like. In the lobby they moved to an old freight elevator to take them up. On the eighth floor they got off and Hunter was surprised to see the corridor was neat and clean, the new walls stark white, contrasting with the old walls left in their original state. Markus opened his door and led Hunter inside. Hunter was shocked. The high ceilinged space was like a gallery space. The rough masonry exterior walls exposed to the interior and the new walls stark white with large paintings hanging on them, paintings of exploding color, violent, almost disturbing, but they held his gaze, made him look at them until he was conscious of staring at them too long. He then realized the living room had four Wassily chairs around a glass coffee table positioned at the large window dominating the exterior wall.
"Wow, this is...incredible" Hunter stated.
"Thanks. Not all us like to live like gypsies or vagabonds. I'm going to fix us a drink. If you need to hit the bathroom it is through the sliding door and to the right" Markus said as he moved to the kitchen area along one wall.
Hunter went through the sliding door to find a large bedroom, a room nearly as large as the living area. The bed was a mattress positioned on top of a metal platform; a large rough looking thing, like something from a foundry. There was only one piece of art on the wall and it hung over the bed and its bright colors and large size dominated the room. The area at the window was set up as a painting studio with the floor covered by an old paint spattered tarp. On the interior side of the space was a wall of closet doors and a door to the bathroom. It was a tiled space with an open shower at one end. Hunter relieved himself, washed up and went back to the living room.
Markus was sitting near the window, drink in hand and Hunter's sitting on the coffee table. When Hunter sat down Markus immediately asked him what he was in to and what his limitations were. Markus was blunt and forthright to the point Hunter didn't feel shy in replying. The talked until their drinks were finished; then Markus got up and held out his hand to Hunter and led him to the bedroom.
Markus produced a couple rolls of duct tape, the only thing he really like to use, and began to undress. Hunter watched, knowing his role, until Markus was naked except for the chain around his neck. His cock still flaccid, hung over his balls. He was shaved bare and Hunter couldn't help but notice the snake tattoo made its way down and had the tail on Markus' cock. Hunter, with a roll of tape in one hand, moved to Markus as he held out his hands. Hunter taped them together at the wrists; then pushed him onto the bed. He taped his ankles together; then ran a strip around his head at his eyes blindfolding him. It was so simple, the tape and it excited him as he bound Markus. He stood back and let Markus lay there as he watched him. He stood there, silent, unmoving, for a long time just watching Markus, noticing how his cock was responding, starting to fill with blood, to get erect. Hunter took off his clothes and laid them on the floor, there being no other furniture in the room except an easel and a stool over at the window.
Climbing over the edge of the metal platform where it stuck out about a foot beyond the mattress he settled on his knees on the mattress. Markus felt him near and turned toward him. Hunter moved up, stroking his cock, feeling it start to get hard; the anticipation building. He moved up to Markus' head and rubbed his cock over his face, ran it across his lips as Markus opened his mouth, waiting, ready. Hunter moved his cock over his cheeks, around his chin, and back to his mouth, where he pushed the head into it, shoving inward till he cut off Markus' breath, holding it still for a moment, letting him get a feel of his cock, to know it size. Hunter pulled back and let Markus struggle to suck his cock, to work his mouth along its length, straining to maintain a raised up position. Hunter grabbed him by the hair and shoved his cock deeply into his mouth, cutting off his air again; watched as his face turned red. Then he began to mouth fuck Markus, to work his cock through the drool, through his warm wet mouth, feeling it swell and get hard. He kept it up, face fucking Markus until his cock was so hard it ached.
When he pulled out of Markus' mouth he manhandled him, flipping him over onto his knees, ass in the air, and his head and shoulders resting on the mattress. Hunter shoved a finger into him, all the way, breaching his opening, stretching it, getting him ready to be fucked. Markus grunted and laid there taking it. Hunter pulled out and then shoved two fingers in, stretching the tight ring of his opening further. Then he shoved three fingers in to Markus, causing his head to rise up where a grunt escaped out of his mouth.
"You want my cock?" Hunter asked.
"Yes...shove it in me" Markus replied; his voice sounding as if he was miles away.
Hunter shifted around, straddled Markus' bound legs and ran his cock up and down his exposed ass, feeling the smooth skin rub his sensitive head, and stroke his desire. He rubbed the head of his cock over the opening and then he shoved in, hard, all the way. Markus cried out as he tried to raise up. Hunter held still when he was all the way in, waiting for Markus to loosen up, to relax into the penetration, to let him feel the fullness of cock buried in his guts. Then he began to fuck. Hard, forceful thrusts, slamming cock into his opening, plunging deeply, trying to cram as much up Markus' ass as he could possible shove into him. Markus grunted and moaned and Hunter fucked harder, slapping his ass cheeks hard, turning them red and hot. Hunter wanted to get off, to feel his cock shoot, to feel cum surge through it, and he keep swinging his hips, driving cock into Markus; fucking him hard. He grabbed Markus by the hair and pulled him up and slammed into his ass hard rocking the mattress across the metal platform.
"Fuck me....fuck me hard" Markus cried out as Hunter held him by the hair, pummeling his ass, working his cock in a fierce maddeningly fast pace. He couldn't take it any longer, the feel of Markus around his cock, the ring of his opening still tight, gripping his shaft as it plowed back and forth through it. He felt his cock swell up, felt the tightness, and he exploded deep in Markus, pumping his load out, shoving it through Markus' insides, smearing it around with his cock as he continued to churn Markus' insides. When he couldn't fuck another stroke, his cock spent, drained of its load, he pulled out and wiped it off on Markus' ass and fell back on the bed breathing hard. He watched Markus fall over on his side his stomach heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
After a few minutes, Hunter got up and eased the end of the tape loose that wound around Markus' wrist. He let the end hang, a way for Markus to get the tape off, even though he'd have to use his mouth. Then he picked up his clothes and got dressed. He went into the living room, stopped for a second looking the paintings on the wall, realizing they were all by Markus, then he went out the door, easing it closed behind him.