Chapter Text
Alastor’s shoulder was abruptly nudged as his good friend Niffty deliberately bumped into him. The pair were walking down the dim street in the empty warehouse district, both bundled up in the cool late evening air. “Come on, Alastor, it’ll be fun!”
“I never said it wouldn’t be,” he gruffly replied, aware he sounded like anything but someone about to have fun. Alastor sighed and rolled his shoulders to try relaxing as he thought of his poor attitude around his friend tonight, knowing it was unwarranted. He recognized their plans had a good chance of being enjoyable, even if Alastor wasn’t expecting to do more than watch over Niffty. Maybe people watch a little of the scenes around her, which always hold some form of amusement. His negative frame of mind was the byproduct of a stressful week, and not an indication of what he thought of their night plans. Fuck, he really needed to get out of this headspace.
Niffty chuckled and briefly squeezed his upper arm as she straightened to break contact, the short woman jovial in her quick strides beside him. Whatever else she thought about his attitude she let slide. At least for now, but Alastor knew her. She tended to find a way to make things shift favorably in the direction she wanted. If Niffty wanted Alastor to be more engaged tonight, she’d find a way.
Their destination was located towards the back of the warehouse district their path weaved through; a medium-sized building nestled well inside a spattering of unassuming constructions. If they hadn’t previously been to the hidden club, they would have been lost. Sometimes they drove to the club’s nearby parking lot, and other times they rode the bus to the closest bus stop for “Daphne’s Endora,” a space named as a play on dopamine and endorphins. Their travel decisions depended on their plans at Daphne’s, and tonight was no exception. The bus had been their transportation for three out of the four times Alastor went with her, thanks to his promise to watch her on nights his switchy friend was looking to bottom. Driving after subspace wasn’t always a wise decision, depending on the person, and Niffty had the occasional uncertain frame of mind even post-aftercare. Alastor could have driven them, but Niffty kept insisting on the bus for reasons she refused to explain. More reasons Alastor was suspicious of her intents.
About seven weeks ago, Niffty voiced wanting to try a well-hidden gem of a BDSM club that she learned about, and she made the announcement during a casual drinking night at Charlie’s and Vaggi’s, around their tightknit friend group. Charlie had choked on her cocktail straw, and nearly everyone paused their activities. It wasn’t unknown to any of them what Niffty did, it just wasn’t something everyone in their friend group partook in either. Essentially it boiled down to Niffty, Angel, and Alastor were the only ones who lived in that world. Not that Alastor’s kink life was something anyone thought about, at least not in the last six months to his knowledge since it was practically on death’s door at that point. However, because only Angel and him were the ones comfortable in a BDSM atmosphere, his friends squarely appointed them on “Niffty duty” when she declared she was going to experience what Daphne’s had to offer one way or another.
Their first night at Daphne’s Endora had all three going as a group, but Alastor sat on the upper platform that overlooked the dungeon’s main floor to keep an eye on Niffty, while Angel mingled on the main floor with the same goal. There was no scening for any of them that night, and as such they drove. Their intentions were to just take in the club and its atmosphere, and what kind of patrons attended.
At the end of the night, as they jumped into Niffty’s white Nissan car at near 2AM because Niffty demanded feeling all the vibes from opening to closing, her excitement radiated off her from how enthralled she was with everything. Angel had a good time too, and Alastor didn’t feel like he suffered despite the oddity of being back at any club after his six-month hiatus. The following morning, they regrouped and came up with a game plan. Angel would accompany Niffty when she felt like topping, his gregarious attitude more suited for when Niffty was in that mood, and Alastor would accompany her on her bottoming nights. Neither man was a Top, but Angel didn’t have to mimic what Niffty did those nights.
They entered the warehouse, first going through the exterior set of doors. Inside was a bland room of wood paneling and dark brown carpet – a perfect cover for the wayward customer or delivery person trying to find another warehouse. A blonde woman wearing regular street clothes sat at a computer desk, briefly tapping away at her phone after they entered. A second set of doors were beyond the desk, and a large stoic man stood at the door, also dressed in street clothes and giving off the impression of a bored assistant rather than a focused bodyguard. The bodyguards of Daphne’s were good at hiding their purpose in plain sight.
She looked up and gave them an inviting smile while the man silently watched them with scrutiny. “Can I help you?”
Niffty spoke first, with much cheer in her voice. “Hi Daphne, we RSVP’d for tonight.” Chances are the woman was not named Daphne, as the namedrop was merely a piece of code for a two-part authentication of patrons.
The woman nodded and accessed the computer. “Names?” She asked, referring to what names they would be registered under in the encrypted attendees list generated from an underground online social network.
“I’m Mad Maid, and he’s Radio Demon,” Niffty supplied, jabbing her thumb at Alastor, who nodded in confirmation. While Angel went by his regular preferred name, they went by scene names here. Plenty of patrons at Daphne’s used their scene names while others used than first names, but the percentages weren’t heavily skewed in one direction.
Nodding again, the woman confirmed them as checked in and the man relaxed a fraction. She noted, “Since system says you aren’t new here, I’m assuming you know what wrist bands you want, and where?”
“Yup, tonight I’m feeling a bit more of a right-side girl,” Niffty winked as she held out her right wrist. “Black and greenlight.”
A black wristband was attached to her right wrist, and a bright green band with little printed circles was attached next. Although not restricted to one color for what type of play she was searching for, Alastor was aware she was primarily looking for impact and thus had chosen tonight’s focus center on a black wrist band. Her favorite kinks included being restrained during impact, but she rarely flagged grey for bondage since she didn’t want anyone to think that rope-only activities were what she sought.
The green band with little circles indicated that she was open to any touching. Of course, there were club rules that said sexual touching without some form of prior consent was forbidden. Really, if the green wristband meant anything regarding sexual touching, it was that she was more amendable to discussions and was open to the possibility of free reign after such discussions for those specific individuals. He knew Niffty well enough to know she did have boundaries, but they were much more open than his.
Alastor held out his right wrist and said, “Yellow light.”
Daphne’s desk attendant raised her eyebrow when he gave no other indication of band colors, but she didn’t comment as she attached the single yellow band. Strictly speaking, flagging beyond the light system wasn’t required. The touches-allowed system had the three usual traffic stop colors to indicate degrees of comfort. By flagging yellow, Alastor was informing others that they needed firm consent from him before trying anything at all times.
When everything was finished, they entered through the guarded doors and Alastor’s eyes took a moment to adjust at the abrupt loss of normal lighting. Instead of the ordinary illumination used in the exterior room, they were now in a windowless hallway with muted lighting. Just enough lighting to see the doors down the way, and the stairs on the right. He knew the doors straight ahead went to the main area of the club, while the stairs took them to the upper floor. The upper floor contained a spare observation area with chairs and tables overlooking the main floor, as well as a locker room followed by a long hallway of private bedrooms.
Niffty and he went to the locker room first, a large unisex room with lockable storage units lining the walls, vanity counters, and even a huge shower capable of fitting six people in case things got messy. The shower explicitly stated no sex allowed. For everyone’s comfort, the owners had made it clear that sex wasn’t permitted in the locker room. If one wanted to have sex then they’d have to walk past the locker room to find five or six available rooms, each barely wider than their queen-size mattress. At least, Alastor was pretty sure it was five or six rooms, and they held nothing more than a bed, but he had never bothered checking them out. He heard they ran longer than they did wide, but it was still hearsay to him.
His companion immediately stripped down to a short leather skirt with a snakeskin leather pushup bra, paired with her favorite heeled black boots. This wasn’t entirely a high fashion club, but a bit of a hedonistic one where half the patrons dressed up and the other half dressed skimpily. Alastor jammed his jacket in a locker before adjusting his leather chest harness against his red collared shirt and then ran his hands down his black slacks to smooth the wrinkles from their walk. It wasn’t exactly high fashion either, but he fell more into the well-dressed side than those barely wearing clothes.
Giggling as she grabbed his arm, Niffty pulled him towards the stairs to head back down to the main floor. Alastor was sorely tempted to wave her off and watch from the upper sitting area. However, he had given Niffty his word he’d try to lighten up once they got here. That was another reason why he was suspicious of her plans, that she had actually pressed for him to try finding some joy. While sitting in the upper sitting area was comfortable, he had to admit it wasn’t joyful.
“Don’t worry, Alastor, we can sit somewhere on the main floor,” she encouraged.
Closing his eyes for a moment to internally recalibrate his attitude, Alastor nodded. “That’s amendable. If nothing, I can keep an eye better on you, dear.”
She teased with a small giggle, “Oh Alastor, always willing to suffer so you can be my hero.”
Stifling an eye roll, Alastor followed her down and through the last set of doors, smoky-voiced music greeting them. Inside was an open-floor plan, with plush dark purple and black couches lining the walls of the low-light room. A small bar with little alcohol was built into the center of a side wall, and in its corner were several skinny tall tables. A few short chairs were pressed into the same back corner against its walls, but most of the centered tables were for standing.
The rest of the spacious room was open for the equipment. Benches, massage tables, a large standing rigging structure, racks, and “X”-shaped crosses were placed around, with two crosses placed on each side of a long narrow stage opposite of the bar. Perfectly placed for shows or for scenes with longer range requirements, such as whipping.
Some of the equipment was already occupied, but those scenes were still warming up, if the soft grunting, moaning, and weak cries were anything to go by. Soon it would be a cacophony of noise as things grew more intense. Whether this was going to be a night of moaning from sexual tension right before people disappeared to the beds, or if it’d be a night of pain-filled cursing remained to be seen. Alastor always favored the latter over the former.
“Want to sign up?” Niffty encouraged as she stopped just inside the door and turned to the “play board,” an erasable white board tucked away that allowed strangers to be more direct in their search for finding a play partner for the night.
“Not particularly,” Alastor dryly declined.
That earned him another squeeze to his arm. “One of these days you’ll have to get back into things,” she softly responded.
“If I do, writing my name on a board to see if I meet the scrutiny of a stranger won’t be how I start.”
“Don’t – please, Alastor, please leave your negativity outside those doors and try to enjoy yourself?” Niffty pleaded. He sighed and nodded, remembering his promise.
Together they sat down on a purple couch near the bar, only a few patrons waiting on the bartender. It served little alcoholic options since intoxication wasn’t permitted. There were a few drinks available for the price of a prepurchase ticket, two max per person. Alastor never bought any tickets since he wasn’t interested in cocktails, and they didn’t pour straight alcohol. Supposedly one could have a tab if they changed their minds and pay at the end of the night, but Alastor didn’t exercise that choice either. How they kept count of that option Alastor didn’t know, but since Daphne’s wasn’t typically busy with newcomers, perhaps the bartenders simply knew by face how many someone had drank that night.
After a few minutes of talking between themselves, a short thin man with dark blue hair walked up to Niffty, asking if she were “Mad Maid” and if she was still interested in scening tonight. With her trademark devilish grin, she invited him to sit down next to her to see if they were a play-style match. Alastor listened to their negotiating without making eye contact, making sure nothing was overlooked. Safewords, allowed types of play, aftercare, touching, and more were all thoroughly discussed before the man, who went by “Mad Scientist,” stood up. Niffty practically jumped up.
She took a step forward before faltering, unexpectedly indecisive about leaving Alastor behind as she looked at him, worrying her lip. Why it was suddenly an issue for her, he didn’t know, but he nodded encouragingly for her to go. Instead, she turned to Mad Scientist and asked, “Do you have any friends that might keep my friend company? He’s had quite the day and I’d hate for him to be stuck in his head!”
Now it was their visitor’s turn to nod. “I know a Dom whose partner tonight bailed on him last minute, but he came anyway. He has a good attitude, so I’m sure he’ll have no problem keeping your friend company.”
“Great! Can you get him while I wait here?”
When it was just the two of them again, Alastor politely refused. “Dear, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Not a babysitter,” Niffty agreed, “but someone to keep you from turning your dark cloud into a full-on rainstorm.”
He sighed and looked around, seeing more people enter the room. He pinched his nose, absently noticing the lack of glasses framing his eyes. When he was at Daphne’s or doing anything BDSM-related, he opted to wear his contacts instead of his glasses. One never knew what shenanigans they might get into, and at least he couldn’t break his glasses this way. “You might want to grab one of the crosses now before they fill up. I’ll be okay.”
“Nonsense, I’ll wait with you first. Besides, if all the crosses fill up in the next two or three minutes, then there’s still a couple benches open, or he can tie me to one of the rigging spots and do horribly wonderful things to me. While it would be amazing to see every piece of equipment in use, it’s only 9:30. You know this space doesn’t get full until around eleven.”
Before Alastor could give another protest, Mad Scientist came back, this time with a blond pale man behind him, standing taller than Mad Scientist but shorter than Alastor. Where Alastor was almost 28 years old, this man looked to be in his early forties, but then age had never been an issue with Alastor. No, if Alastor found any issues tonight, it would be if there were any nonconsenting controlling behaviors from a hardheaded Dom. Alastor was curious what kind of Dom would be keeping him company, with his broad chest and solid build, yet sharp piercing blue eyes thoughtfully studying him as they approached. At least his smile was inviting, suggesting Alastor wasn’t just some subby meat to him.
This new man was dressed in leather pants and a fitted slate-grey T-shirt. Mad Scientist introduced him, “Mad Maid and, uh, Mad Maid’s friend… this is my friend, Lucifer.”
Alastor replied with his characteristic flair, “A pleasure to meet you, Lucifer. I’m Radio Demon.”
Lucifer’s pleasing smile stayed as he returned, “Pleasure to meet you as well. Do you mind if I sit next to you?”
He shook his head. “Of course not, please feel free. My dear friend would switch to her top side in a heartbeat and strangle me if I were to decline your lovely presence after she insisted so kindly,” Alastor teased, more at Niffty. She gave him an incredulous look that spoke of how dare he call her out, but her look was without malice.
“Oh?” Lucifer turned to Niffty and chuckled. “Not often I meet switches able to switch partway through a night, if your friend’s claim is true. Have fun while I keep him company.”
“Thanks!” she waved as Mad Scientist and she left the other two behind.
His newest companion settled next to Alastor’s right side, allowing Alastor visibility of the bands on Lucifer’s left wrist. It seemed Lucifer was his opposite in band collection, with black, grey, and hunter green bands in addition to his yellow light band. That had Alastor curious. “You seem to be into quite a bit for tonight, yet you’re feeling cautious?”
Lucifer nodded. “These are my top three roles I enjoy, but I’m picky on who I do them with.”
That sense of curiosity only grew, and Alastor nodded as his eyes lingered on them, especially on the hunter green band for daddy. Lucifer flexed his wrists as he relaxed onto the couch better, and Alastor realized he’d soon be caught staring. His eyes snapped back up to find his friend weaving through the sparse crowd to a cross.
Even though they were watching Niffty and Mad Scientist move to the far side of the room, Lucifer kept his body rotated towards Alastor so they could easily talk. “So, Radio Demon, are you here for anything specific?”
Alastor gave him a polite smile. “My appearance here is primarily driven by Mad Maid’s plans. Or perhaps her plotting, knowing her.”
“Her plotting?” Lucifer echoed with a raised eyebrow.
“She seems to think my attitude may slide downward if I’m left to my own devices.” Alastor shrugged, before continuing, “Whenever she gets such thoughts in her head, she tends to plot how to remedy the situation.”
Lucifer gave a small chuckle. “Well, we can sit here in silence as we watch your friend scene with my friend, or you could tell me what you would be flagging if you were in a more outgoing mood.”
Staring at Niffty in awkward silence didn’t appeal to Alastor, and he supposed there was no harm in indulging Lucifer’s question. He nodded to Lucifer’s wrist bands. “I usually only flag black and grey, unless another mood suits me for a night.” He deliberately avoided acknowledging he hadn’t flagged anything beyond the yellow stoplight since coming here, nor did he acknowledge that it’d been months since his last club. There he had most often flagged black and grey, so it wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Not someone for wearing hunter green on your right wrist?” Lucifer tilted his head, fully listening with no signs of judgement.
Alastor tried to play the question off with a smirk, but a light blush dusted his cheeks because the answer wasn’t a flat-out no. Still, he gave an air of someone unaffected as he ignored the blush and answered, “I never felt like a boy looking for a daddy, no.”
“Hm,” Lucifer returned to looking at him with that piercing, knowing look, and Alastor got the distinct feeling that Lucifer caught the half-lie. The older man slightly leaned in and spoke in a sultry voice, “No, you’re no boy. But I can practically smell the brat on you.”
This time he sharply inhaled, unexpectedly caught off guard by being called out – and so accurately too. His devious smile wavered before he regained his confidence. “Is that so?”
The blond leaned back, lessening any sense of wariness from Alastor from his moment of teasing. Admittedly, Alastor had always enjoyed a good teasing, but he hadn’t flirted for fun in quite some time. Based on Lucifer’s confidence, he wasn’t nearly as rusty as Alastor as he continued, “Indeed. I can see it in the way you carry yourself, even sitting here. Those taunting smiles you think you’re getting away with. And the way your eyes shift about, almost calculating. Not to flee, though, but to see what you can get away with.”
“Oh? What is it that I’m calculating?”
Lucifer drummed his fingers on his thigh before his smile grew wicked. “What domino effect you can start without calling attention to yourself. I can see you willingly talking someone into trying something new, daring them to push themselves.”
That idea was tantalizing. Alastor liked riling people up, either by bratting or following his own brand of glee. He hadn’t come here tonight to do any of that, but with the fruit dangling in front of him, he couldn’t help but bite. Allowing his grin to grow fiendishly, Alastor acknowledged, “I did talk a young woman into fire play last time I was here, and let’s just say watching her responses in scene was everything a brat pushing his dominos could hope for.”
“Sometimes seeing others respond to what you’ve done is the reward,” Lucifer chuckled in agreement. “Did you do that just for the fun of it, or did you paint her a lovely picture from your own experiences?”
“I’ve never been too much of one for fire, since it’s not exactly safe to test boundaries by being a little mischievous while a flame is present.” Alastor coyly shrugged, the shyness entirely false.
Another subtle chuckle returned as Lucifer’s lips cocked a half-smile. “No? What about electrical play?”
Alastor couldn’t hide the hungry look on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks earlier returned like wildfire across the rest of his face. Lucifer purred, “Ah yes, seems I found a spot beyond black and grey.”
He cleared his throat and tried pulling the conversation back under his control. “I could take it or leave it. Well, I suppose I should leave it since I should be watching Niffty.” Try as he might, he couldn’t pull his eyes entirely off Lucifer, but he did his best to glance beyond Lucifer’s shoulder at Niffty, who was in the midst of a spanking warmup with Mad Scientist, hooked to restraints on the cross.
Lucifer didn’t seem offended by Alastor’s attempt to look beyond him. “You could. You could sit here and just watch her, or perhaps we might talk about what would get you off this couch after she’s done.”
Swallowing, Alastor flashed another smirk. “And if I said let’s see how you sell yourself that’ll make me get off this couch, what would you do? I hope you’re not the kind whose salesmanship extends only to throwing his domly Domness around and expects those like me to grovel.”
“What an incredibly boring Top,” Lucifer agreed. “You would never grovel to them, but I bet you would make them know they aren’t worth your attention. It would be a pity if that’s how you feel tonight, because I can see that there’s a part of you that wants to be the one with all of someone’s attention tonight. I think I’d have fun indulging that side of yours.”
Both body language and tone of this confident Dom sent Alastor waves of strict daddy energy, not the overbearing kind but the kind that could meet his brat side without stifling or boring him. Just the kind of dominant Alastor had always liked, the kind that won lively challenges and showed themselves worthy of Alastor submitting, even for a night’s scene. He couldn’t squash the longing sensation radiating from his stomach, a sense of intensity to see where this might go.
“It seems you may be worth having my attention,” the curly haired man purred. If Lucifer was going to make him feel this way, he might as well lean into it. Even if nothing came of it, then the game was still fun to play.
“Excellent,” Lucifer’s delighted eyes gleamed even more now that Alastor was willing to open conversation. “Would you want tonight’s negotiation to be strictly about electrical play, or do you like more complex scenes?”
“Such as?”
“Perhaps you’d like bondage or impact added to the scene, to be tied down and caned when you misbehave as I see what electrical shocks make you bite your lip?”
Again, Alastor swallowed. Pickup play had never really been much of a thing for Alastor, given his lack of sexual appetite that most others craved, but the picture being painted was enticing and it lacked what deterred him. Not only hadn’t sex been brought up, but Lucifer also hadn’t said anything about forcing Alastor to submit as though his submission was already expected. “How about we start simple and discuss this possible scene but with just a few impact toys, and the occasional use of a wand? I haven’t yet decided how much fun I want to have with you.”
Lucifer raised an eyebrow before smoothly replying, “I think someone’s bratty side is looking for a challenge. Perhaps even be reprimanded.”
It sure did seem that way, didn’t it? Perhaps it was because of his rough week, perhaps it was because this was the first real opportunity hanging in front of him since his hiatus. Either way, he did feel a growing need for a “funishment” stronger than solely electrical play. “Perhaps, but I never said you would be reprimanding me tonight. You have yet to show me you’re worth negotiating with.”
A pleased smile formed, and Lucifer replied, “Well then, by all means let’s see and negotiate what kind of appetite you have for fulfilling your bratty needs with me by the time our friends are done. First, is there anything I need to know about your body, such as injuries or sore spots?”
“If I said my ass was sore and you were forbidden to beat it, what would you do?” Alastor meant it as a tease, but there was a bit of apprehension beneath his question as he knew some Tops and Doms took offense to being forbidden from certain places like a person’s derriere. His previous experience told him such, and as unexpectedly excited as he felt at a prospective scene, he couldn’t deny there was still apprehension at what he might find if he didn’t tread carefully.
“Listen to you,” Lucifer said, suddenly very serious. His gaze held Alastor’s eyes for a second before turning devious. “There are plenty of other places on a body to teach you your lesson about misbehaving.”
The anxiety warring within him suddenly weakened, letting his eagerness return to full bloom. Seeing Lucifer’s serious side, Alastor admitted, “Well, I do have a scar on my chest that is painful for me when it’s touched with anything firm. But that’s irrelevant unless you try something on my front.” His scar wasn’t actually that big, a little diagonal thing across his sternum, but he didn’t like hard pressure pushing down on it.
“I’ll leave your chest alone so there’s no accidental touching,” Lucifer promised. “If you’re willing, I would love to see your upper body with only that leather harness still on.”
His request startled Alastor, but not because it was unreasonable. It was common for play partners, even ones for only a single night, to have some stripping between them. Did Lucifer just like harnesses against naked skin, or did he know that he was easily granting Alastor the chance to keep on his “armor” while they scened? The latter seemed less likely, unless this Dom was far more experienced in kink culture than Alastor was used to seeing. That would explain his demonstrated observation skills, but for now Alastor would let his pondering slide. “You aren’t allowed to damage it.”
“Of course,” Lucifer solemnly swore. “If that’s everything I need to know about your body, then what about triggers you know of?”
“Hm,” Alastor chewed on that question. He had triggers, of course; everyone had them whether they acknowledged them. However, stating them aloud was different all together, especially with how rusty he was remembering what needed to be said. One trigger for him was how people treated him once they found out he had a low sexual drive and now was as good as any time to discuss the limit associated with said trigger. “I’m not open to sexual play with new play partners.”
“Easily fine by me,” Lucifer reassured. “Anything else?”
The remaining pieces of anxiety clawing at him lost their strength as Lucifer breezed right past his issue without batting an eye. Alastor took the moment to allow himself to relax as he glanced at Niffty. He could see she was having a good time with a heavy impact scene, Mad Scientist holding a paddle of some kind. It was hard to tell what kind of paddle at this distance in the lighting. “No, there’s nothing else.” Well, there was the reason why his kink life went on hiatus six months ago, but that wasn’t a spiral he needed right now. They were just negotiating a one-time scene where Lucifer would only be topping him, not domming. As long as he kept that fact in mind Alastor would be fine, or so he reminded himself.
Lucifer tilted his chin up, sizing Alastor up. “I don’t entirely believe you,” Lucifer stated before pausing, “but I suppose I may let that slide, if you give me enough parameters to work with that I don’t trip where I don’t need to go.”
Alastor nodded, relieved after his anxiety spiked when caught that Lucifer chose not to press. If he was taking an extra moment to think about what triggers he still had over a potential funishment, then one did come to mind. “Are you the kind of Top to easily get angry? Such as angry enough to yell in scene?”
His question quickly received a reassuring look as Lucifer said, “I’ve never been a fan of yelling, and if I’m truly mad, then it’s hardly fun to continue at that point.”
With a satisfied sound of acknowledgement, Alastor replied, “Then no, you shouldn’t find any mental trip wires if we play. You may trip over my words, however,” he tacked on with a smirk to bring back the lighthearted game.
“Oh no, I won’t be tripping over anything because you’ll be eating those words,” Lucifer teased right back.
For a few more minutes they negotiated, confirming their safewords were the traffic color system, what aftercare would entail, and Alastor’s willingness to lose his shirt but no other clothing. Then, while Alastor stayed on the couch to watch Niffty, Lucifer left and returned with a large black duffle bag with a blue patch on the side that said, “Leadership Development.” In it were all his toys for the night, to show Alastor what was on the table for scening.
He carefully set his bag down and unzipped it, pulling out several toys and setting them alongside each other on the couch. “Are you an opt-in or opt-out person?”
Alastor understood that opt-in meant only toys he picked could be used, while opt-out meant any toy he didn’t decline was an option. “Opt-out.”
“Alright, then what do you not want used?”
Letting his fingers dance slowly over the toys as he carefully watched Lucifer’s face from the side, he waited to see a hunger in his eyes. When Alastor’s fingertips touched a studded riding crop, Lucifer’s pupils dilated. Oh yes, this was a toy Lucifer liked. “Not this one,” he said as he pushed it aside.
Lucifer blinked and then looked at him and saw Alastor’s devious smirk. He returned it with one of his own. “I can work around that. What else?”
This time when Alastor tried the same trick, Lucifer didn’t watch the toys but rather Alastor’s face. It seemed he caught on that Alastor was watching him to take away what toys Lucifer reacted to, and so he wasn’t looking. Sighing dramatically at being defeated in his pregame, as it were, Alastor truly looked at the toys. Stingy and thuddy toys were mixed together, with the electrical wand on the side. None of it particularly bothered him, with one exception. There was a dense foam impact toy, one in the shape of an axe. It clearly wasn’t meant to cleave anyone, it was just for fun. Alastor managed to fight off the cold shiver at the sight and couldn’t help but absently rub his scar through his shirt. “Not the axe.”
“Not the axe,” Lucifer agreed as he put it away. “Now, last question. Do you mind marks?”
“I love marks, so long as they aren’t anywhere public-facing.”
“Good thing it’s not summer, then.” Lucifer glanced back at Niffty and saw the pair wrapping up their scene. “If you’re ready, we can find furniture near an outlet. Then you can watch your friend finish while I set up.”
Suddenly trepidation gnawed at his throat as sweat beaded on the back of his neck. Was he really doing this? He hadn’t done this in six months, since everything went sideways on him. He didn’t know how he’d react once he was back in a scene.
Unexpectedly Lucifer’s face softened and he rested his hand on the couch, beside Alastor, mindful of his yellow light band. “Hey,” he softly called out, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. This is for fun.”
“Right, fun.” If he was to ever have this kind of fun again, then he needed to rip off the proverbial band aid and try. Flashing a toothy grin, he said, “Lead the way.”
Lucifer nodded and the soft look disappeared as he purred, “I just saw the perfect spanking bench, right by a wall outlet.”
“Good thing my ass isn’t actually off limits, then.”
They moved to a burgundy pleather spanking bench and Lucifer set up while Alastor kept an eye on Niffty coming off her cross, Mad Scientist wrapping a blanket around her. As soon as the pair sat down on an empty couch, Alastor took a deep breath and then removed his harness and shirt, donning back on the harness once he was clear of fabric. The feel of the leather and cool metal rings against his skin had him shivering, memories of his Sub days trying to resurface. No, this was just play and he was just bottoming. This chest harness was his armor, not his cage.
Once the side tables for holding toys were set up, the electrical equipment plugged in, and baby-blue sheets fully draped over the furniture so Alastor couldn’t sweat directly on the furniture, Lucifer moved to Alastor’s side. He rocked onto his toes to whisper in a seductive but authoritative voice beside Alastor’s ear, “Get on the bench.”
“Hm, well seeing how I didn’t fight you at the couch, I think your good fortunes end there. No.” Alastor flashed a smirk.
It seemed Lucifer was ready for that, based on his lack of surprise. Instead, his hand wrapped around Alastor’s shoulder and shoved him to the padded floor, beside the bench. Alastor didn’t expect that and stumbled down, catching himself on his knees and hands. He hadn’t realized how strong Lucifer was, based on how easily he brought the taller man to his knees.
“I think my good fortunes have just begun. Now, let’s try that again. Get on the bench.” The seduction was gone from Lucifer’s voice, but the authoritative tone remained.
Glaring at Lucifer, Alastor sat his butt down on the floor and spoke, “I think I’ll stay here, thank – hey!”
He didn’t get to finish before Lucifer scooped him up and dropped him unceremoniously on the bench. Alastor let out a mortifying squeak as he was picked up, blindly reaching out to catch the upper half of the bench to land his knees on the lower platform.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucifer asked. Instead of snark words, Alastor blinked as his brain caught up, caught off wares by being manhandled so easily. “No? How about you lay against that bench now if you’re done with the floor.”
Wits now recovered, Alastor leaned down on the bench, resting on his elbows. “I suppose if this kind of tender care is already being served, then I might try another round.” For good show, he slowly wiggled his ass as though inviting punishment, his black slacks in contrast to the blue sheet.
Lucifer responded to Alastor’s taunt with a dark chuckle. “Oh, darling, I hope you have good knees because you’re going to be left kneeling or standing for the next three days.” A hand rubbed down Alastor’s ass cheek before rubbing back up the other side.
“Mm, I have the best knees. Not that it’ll matter after this.”
That earned him only a small swat, and Alastor looked over his shoulder with a pout. “Please tell me there’s more to your bite than that.”
“Trust me, you’ll be feeling my bite plenty. Now turn around so I don’t flog your face.” Lucifer’s fingers ghosted over the handles of twin floggers.
They had agreed to this, that Alastor would get a warm-up if he wasn’t too hard at the very beginning. While his spirit said to be difficult, his body reminded he hadn’t bottomed in six months and that was a long time to go before diving straight into a heavy scene. Sighing dramatically as if he were uninterested, Alastor turned his head and settled better onto the spanking bench.
His Top-for-the-night must have the ability to move whisper-soft when he wanted to, because Alastor’s strained ears didn’t hear the pair of black-and-gold floggers get picked up, but he sure felt them along his backside when they came down. The whack was shocking, and the brief pain caught him more by surprise than he expected. He was still wearing pants and used to be a much heavier bottom than this, damn it! Either he softened tremendously over the months, or Lucifer was a firmer hand than Alastor gave him credit. Maybe both.
As the shock and mild pain dissipated a soft moan escaped him, and he clamored to cover it up with a chuckle. His snarky laugh earned him another pair of whacks on his ass.
Before the sting of the floggers had fully dissolved Lucifer goaded, “Is the brat already struggling?” Another short set of whacks smacked him again at the same level of pain.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alastor said, his ducked head talking into his forearms but loud enough that the attentive Top could still hear him. He wanted to look up and taunt with more than just words, but he was very aware that Lucifer could swing his floggers at any second. “I was just admiring how your old man shoulders can throw a flogger almost as good as most Tops.”
The response was not a choked gasp of shock like he expected, but a throaty laugh. “Brat, if you think that was anything remarkable, then you’ve been playing with boys. You’re going to learn a lesson in the difference between them and me.” A flurry of flogger whacks from Lucifer florentining them erupted across his ass and thighs. The pain incrementally increased as they spun in a tight flurry, demonstrating a level of control from tonight’s Top that Alastor hadn’t realized Lucifer had when they started.
Oh, Alastor was going to eat shit if this was Lucifer being gentle. He was going to love this.
When the flurry subsided, Alastor’s breathing was slightly worse than it was when it began, and his forehead was resting on his forearms. Swallowing, Alastor allowed, “Well, I never did like boys.”
“Then we’re on the same page. Now, ten more swats and afterwards everything on that table is fair game.”
“Let’s see if you can make my dream come true.”
Alastor didn’t outwardly count, having not been asked. Perhaps he’d have to count later, when the scene really began, but for now he was mentally gearing up to give Lucifer a run for his money. The increasing pain for the ten swats kept his focus on Lucifer’s handiwork.
When the tenth ended, Alastor wiggled his ass again. “Ready to go whenever you’re willing to actually give – ah!”
A sharp pain erupted across his ass, much too stingy for a flogger. Almost too stingy for a Bottom still wearing pants. “What the hell?” he twisted his head and looked at Lucifer as the Top moved to set down the floggers.
“What, never been spanked before? I find that hard to believe, someone with your mouth.”
The words sank in and he blinked; that was just the feeling of Lucifer’s bare hand? “You truly must have the shoulders of someone half your age. What’s would that person be, twenty-five?”
“Hilarious, and completely off. Don’t make me blindfold you so you don’t know what’s coming your way,” Lucifer scolded. “I do have a blindfold in this bag.”
“Or what, you’ll gag me too?” Alastor made a show of licking his lips as Lucifer picked up a cane and a resin paddle with gritty tracks attached. “Can’t make up your mind on which to use? I thought you said you weren’t anywhere near fifty.”
“You’re lucky I don’t gag new partners, or I’d use one of the large cock gags on you now,” Lucifer growled, though he still wore a smirk. The cane and paddle went to one hand, and Lucifer’s free hand ran across Alastor’s hair just enough for him to gather the strands and grab hold. He thrusted Alastor’s head to look forward, letting go only when Alastor’s head was back over his forearms.
The Bottom settled back into place, yet he didn’t settle his mouth. “But who would provide you the direction your confused mind nee – fuck!”
Alastor was caught off mid-taunt by a cane across the crease where left butt cheek met thigh, followed by stinging pain of a fast paddle driving tracks into his thinly covered right side. Before his breath came back there was a repeated whack to the same cheek with the paddle. “Fuck!” he snarled again.
“I’m sorry, is your mind now the one confused?” Lucifer mocked.
“What the fuck?” Alastor snapped as he looked back over his shoulder. He saw Lucifer holding the cane in his left hand and the paddle in his right.
Lucifer’s smirk only grew more taunting, almost smug. “I’m ambidextrous. And a dual wielder. I suggest you look forward so you don’t wreck your neck while I give you the treatment a brat like you deserves.”
Alastor stared a second longer before doing as he was told. “You would know about the importance of protecting your neck.”
An uncounted number of sharp hits was Alastor’s reward, spaced out just enough he couldn’t numb his mind to them. Especially when that cane started on the back of his thighs in between paddling his ass. Now, Alastor wasn’t normally one to shout after ever hit, sometimes not even making a single sound for most strikes, but this wasn’t one of those nights. Several muffled curses escaped him. Even when Lucifer paused a few times to ask for Alastor’s color, the attitude he gave while saying “green” was more snarled than in the past. And he loved every minute of it, knowing that it would drive him into subspace if it held at this level.
The man topping him for the night suddenly knelt on the bench, his knee pressed between Alastor’s mostly closed legs. Lucifer’s knee knocked into the inside of Alastor’s knees, forcefully opening Alastor’s stance. Just as Lucifer leaned back to stand, Alastor was already starting to close them when the cane hit both inner thighs with a flick of Lucifer’s wrist. He yelped especially hard then.
“I recommend keeping your legs open,” Lucifer noted as he stepped away from the bench. “Otherwise, that inner-thigh caning will happen every time I see them close, and I have no problem kicking your thighs open before I use the cane.”
His Adams Apple bobbed as Alastor nodded into his forearms, picturing Lucifer’s powerful legs pressing his feet against Alastor’s thighs. “This stance is easier anyways,” he choked out as he tried to focus on willing away the sharp pain radiating from his inner thighs. He felt the first touches of floating briefly wash over his mind. Not yet, he told himself. There was more to enjoy from the scene before he floated away and couldn’t keep his bratty mouth running.
There was just enough time for Lucifer to change toys again, or so Alastor realized when his attention moved beyond his stung inner thighs. A heavy tube slam against his left ass cheek. He cursed as the thuddy pain radiated from where it struck, and he gasped, “Is that – shit!”
Before he could finish, an electrical shock erupted across where the thuddy pain originated. “I’m sorry, what was that? Was the brat mouthing off again, or asking a genuine question?”
Alastor swallowed his next breath as he fought to get his thoughts back in order. “Genuine question. Was that the tube strap filled with lead shot?”
“Good job, you’ve guessed right,” Lucifer praised, his tone not sweet. “But I can tell you aren’t the kind of brat that demands a prize for every little achievement. A demand for a prize over an easy guess is too simple for you.”
“You don’t know me.” Alastor tried sticking to his wits in their game, but the cotton of subspace was back creeping over his mind.
“No, but your ass and I are getting well acquainted,” Lucifer said and suddenly the tube strap hit his other cheek, followed by another shock of electricity. Lucifer chuckled as Alastor cursed, “You know what they say. Got to make the marks match.”
Gasping for another moment, Alastor cleared his throat and pushed through the cotton to get in at least one more witty retort before he succumbed to a floaty sensation. “I believe they call it ‘matchy matchy.’ However, I don’t think you swung particularly evenly on those. Must be reaching your stamina limit.”
The electrical wand that Lucifer was using suddenly jammed twice in quick succession, unevenly across his rear cheeks. “I was going to keep the marks overall even by the end of tonight, but I don’t think you deserve that anymore.”
Alastor growled as he fought through the pain and cotton sensation. “I wasn’t expecting you to take that into account.”
“Oh? Not used to even marks, then?” Three more hits from the strap, one each cheek and then one thigh, with the electrical wand hitting the thigh left untouched. Alastor’s leg twitched slightly. “Your legs are starting to close up, darling,” Lucifer warned.
“Or what will you do, set aside the lead shot tube and grab the cane? How imaginative.”
“Why do that when I have this in hand?” Suddenly the sound of electricity zapping went off to the side of his ear. Not close enough to risk harm, but close enough to remind Alastor that Lucifer could zap his inner thighs, and Alastor knew that was far worse than a cane. Grumbling, he spread his legs out.
“Good boy,” Lucifer praised, his voice a little sweeter than last time. Alastor couldn’t resist the slight shudder this time that the praise did from him. He hoped Lucifer didn’t catch it.
“Oh, does my good boy like that?” Lucifer purred, leaning in where the electrical wand had been moments ago.
Damn it.
It took Alastor a few extra seconds to come up with some retort, the feeling from the praise and subspace almost winning. “I’m easy to please, lucky for you.”
“Somehow, I doubt you’re easy to please. But I still consider myself lucky because I get to wreck this lovely ass.” Alastor expected the next hit to be his ass, but it was strikes from the tube to his thighs instead, followed by several deeply thuddy hits to his cheeks. Lucifer asked for his color and Alastor managed out, “springtime,” which earned him another hit across the crease in his thighs, sharply bringing forth the rest of the cotton.
With the cotton of subspace fully overtaking his mind, Alastor let out something intelligible. Lucifer responded, but Alastor didn’t fully grasp it. He grunted to try clearing it, wanting to taunt Lucifer right back, but his stamina had gone to shit in these six months. Alastor realized he wasn’t going to last nearly as long as they initially allowed in the negotiating.
More strikes followed by zaps of electricity came, and Alastor soon lost himself to a world positively floating around him. At some point even his words floated away, as did Lucifer’s. Eventually the zaps disappeared, around the time something touched his hand, but he didn’t do anything with the touch. Something was said and then the strikes stopped completely, but all Alastor could do was groan as everything in his targeted body parts radiated pain and his brain was completely reduced to mush.
Suddenly a featherlight touch rubbed his back and a soft blanket was draped across him. Alastor lifted his head to peer at it, a blue similar to the sheets, and rubbed the material between his fingers. A thin quilt, really, and one he didn’t remember seeing earlier. Must be part of a donated set to the space to match the sheets. How odd, the sheets and quilt were still together after how many scenes had they been used and then washed?
Arms gathered him up and pulled him into a broad chest, and Alastor’s head limply laid against the grey shirt. His attention to details was gone as the next thing he knew, he was curled up against that grey shirt, on the dark couch beside the spanking bench, with water pressed into his lips.
Something was being said to him, but everything sounded muffled and distant. He ignored it and let himself float freely, just as he ignored the pressure on his lips, until his bicep was pinched. “Huh?” he airily asked into the chest.
“Need you to return back to me, darling, even if you can only give me a minute. Drink the water. I’ll hold it for you since you don’t seem to be very coordinated yet.”
Oh right, water. He really should drink that, he realized as his parched throat brought itself to his attention. His tongue licked his bottom lip as he opened his mouth, and the bottle was tipped. The water steadily trickled into his mouth after Alastor tried to greedily drink it down, only to slightly choke from a bigger gulp.
“Now, now, none of that,” a voice gently chided him. He grumbled but obeyed the slower drinking pace.
Once the bottle was empty, a little fog receded and Alastor now knew he was curled up into tonight’s Top’s chest. He snuggled in a little closer and rested his head against his shoulder, eager to resume the floaty sensation. For what felt like hours he stayed there, periodically visited by words checking in on him. Words that got hums of agreements.
“Are you feeling a little more grounded, darling?”
“Hmm.”
“Given how floaty that was, I’m going to say no. Can you do me a favor and inhale a deep breath, hold it, and then slowly let it out?”
He did as instructed and repeated when the directions were given again. After doing that for ten long exhales, Alastor felt some of the cotton further recede. “Hmm?” he hummed, this time his tone more questioning than blanket affirmation.
His Top, which he belatedly remembered was a newly introduced man named Lucifer, chuckled as he lightly jostled Alastor. “Let’s try an easy tactile anchor. Can you tell me three things you feel, besides what I imagine is a very heated ass and thighs?”
Three things he felt, besides that? His fingers curled into Lucifer’s shirt. “Cotton shirt. Cotton quilt. Cotton couch. Wait, couches aren’t cotton.” He almost giggled at the image of what a cotton couch would look like. Very fluffy.
Lucifer chuckled. “We’re not going to debrief while you’re clearly still in subspace, but I do have to clean up so we can vacate the bench area to a better spot for aftercare. It’s been about ten minutes since we stopped, but we’re still by the equipment and there’s more people here, waiting to scene. Will you be alright by yourself for a few minutes?”
“Mm,” Alastor nodded.
Strong arms bundled him up and gave him a squeeze. “That ‘mm’ sounds just like your earlier ones, so I’m not exactly trusting of it. But I really should clean up. I’m going to keep an eye on you the whole time, I’ll only be a couple feet away. Signal however you can if something goes wrong.”
“Mm.”
Strong arms placed him to the side of the couch, propping him up with cushions and nestling him into the corner where he lazily watched Lucifer clean up. The Dom kept his eye on him at all times, which made for some challenges while cleaning up, but Lucifer managed with practiced ease. When everything was cleaned, Lucifer threw his toy duffle bag over his shoulder before gathering Alastor into his arms and picked him up. If Alastor had any coherent thoughts, he might have tensed, but instead he melted like a ragdoll kitten into Lucifer’s chest.
They moved to a dim corner, empty save for a couple of other paired people who were talking very quietly and drinking water. Lucifer sat down, his bag delicately dropping to the floor as he maneuvered Alastor into his lap. Lucifer softly rubbed his back, and Alastor’s thoughts gained a little more coherency.
Eventually Alastor found his way back. “What time is it?” he asked before clearing his throat of his slurred words, blinking as his attention finally sharpened into awareness.
“About 11:05. There’s no rush to leave. I’m sure if you aren’t ready, your friend will accommodate.” Lucifer soothed.
“We only played for… uh…” Alastor couldn’t remember when they started and had absolutely no idea when then stopped.
“We played for over twenty minutes, and you’ve been floating pretty hard for at least another twenty,” Lucifer explained before admitting, “You did a good job, but perhaps I should have held back a little bit more. It seemed we were both enjoying it.”
Alastor blinked and pushed against Lucifer chest just enough to look up into his eyes, the blanket sliding off one shoulder. The crystal blue eyes were carefully studying him back as Alastor asked in a bewildered voice, “Wait, you held back?”
“Of course. Do you think I would go all in with a first scene with someone? I don’t have a decoder key for you and your signals,” Lucifer lightly tsked.
“Oh, yeah. Okay.” There was something about staring into Lucifer’s eyes, showing concern only for him, that finally brought the rest of the grounding he needed. He rapidly blinked and tried to push himself free, finding his movements uncoordinated and Lucifer had to help him slide off the Dom’s lap. When he was situated to sit on the couch instead of on Lucifer, and trying to get the blanket off him, a new bottle of water appeared.
“I’m going to have to pee really bad on the way home,” he complained.
“Hush, you need more water than you think. Now drink and then we can see if you’re ready to stand.”
Begrudgingly Alastor drank a quarter of the bottle before setting it down. “I’m ready to stand.”
Alastor was exhausted by the time Lucifer helped him off the plush couch, but Alastor’s wobbly legs held long enough for him to stand straight and clumsily redress. Lucifer gave him a skeptical side eye as he looked Alastor up and down. “Are you sure you’re ready to go? We need to check you over, but you’re barely standing.”
Not really sure I can even stand that long, especially since I have to walk soon, Alastor admitted only to himself. However, he was feeling more raw than he expected coming off subspace after going six months without it, so he wasn’t in the mindset to sit back down with someone showing care as they examined him. “I’ll be fine. Besides, all my cremes and ointments are home, so it’s better if I attend to any bruises or other marks there. Mad Maid and I will probably need to leave soon anyway.”
“If you’re wanting to go home to take care of it, then I won’t stop you, but I want pictures showing you didn’t neglect the task. Who’s driving? You both played tonight,” Lucifer pointed out. “Given your fawn legs right now, and what I saw of her scene, driving might be harder than you’d think.”
“We rode the bus here,” Alastor said with a shrug.
“Wait, you’re going to ride a bus home? How long is the ride?” Lucifer frowned. “Risking subdrop on a bus doesn’t sound safe.”
Alastor dismissively waved a hand. “I won’t be alone, just as Mad Maid won’t be alone. And it’s not that long of a bus ride.”
Lucifer worried his lip before reluctantly nodding. “Alright. Can I have your username so I can message you to check-in? We discussed this earlier, but you haven’t actually provided your username.”
How cute, the Dom was worried about Alastor. Even wanting to reinforce what he stated before their scene that Alastor needed to give him his username on the underground social website. Which, to be fair to Lucifer, Alastor hadn’t bottomed to a new person in a very long time, so maybe this was normal. “It’s just Radio Demon, with no extra characters.”
Satisfied with at least that, Lucifer nodded and replied, “I’ll send you a message so you can respond when you get home. My username is Sin of Pride, underscores.”
Alastor arched an eyebrow. “Sin of Pride? Really?”
Lucifer huffed. “Do you know how many usernames have ‘Lucifer’ in it? And don’t brat me outside of a scene.”
A smirk appeared on Alastor’s face before he dropped it. He really didn’t have it in him to start something, but that didn’t mean the faintest spark didn’t try to light. “If it makes you feel better, you don’t need to baby me and send me a message tonight.”
Lucifer’s eyes glittered with a seriousness that had Alastor gulping as the Dom firmly said, “I don’t take play lightly, even if this is a one-time deal.”
Something about that statement and Lucifer’s serious demeanor hit him funny, and Alastor found himself involuntarily swallowing. He nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll message you when I get home, if your message is waiting.”
“Good. Now let me walk you to your friend. She seems to be hitting it off quite well with Mad Scientist, by-the-way,” Lucifer said as he nodded towards the pair.
“Hm?” Alastor turned and saw Niffty, dressed back into her club clothing, giggling with Mad Scientist. He smiled when he saw the two were indeed hitting it off quite well, based on the animated talking and dopey happy smiles. Alastor was happy for his friend, considering Niffty needed a smile just as much as he did tonight.
Both men walked over to Niffty and Mad Scientist, and Alastor quietly announced their presence to the preoccupied couple. “If everyone is good, I think it’s about time to get going, my dear.”
Niffty tilted her head away from Mad Scientist, looked Alastor up and down, and then nodded. “Yeah, best not to risk catching the last bus tonight. Never know what kind of freaks get on that one,” she added with a wink.
Alastor chuckled and rolled his eyes. Niffty turned back to Mad Scientist to say goodbye, so Alastor turned to Lucifer. “Staying longer?”
Lucifer nodded. “I usually need to first wind down in the space before I can finish winding down in a regular environment, like home. Talk soon,” he said before leaning into Alastor’s space, right by his ear, to whisper, “brat.” His whisper toyed with Alastor, as if trying to rev his motor before suddenly stepping away and walking towards the bar.
Alastor’s eyes lingered on him as he watched him leave and stayed there as half-formed thoughts came and went from his brain until he felt a nudge on his arm. He looked over to see Niffty alone, standing beside him with a grand smile. “Ready to leave?”
“Right, yes. Let’s go.” He shook himself out of the playful mood Lucifer had managed to draw out with just the faintest tease.
The pair switched back into their street clothes before making the journey to the bus stop on the other side of the warehouse district. Once they were out in the brisk air, back in their jackets, Niffty squeezed his arm. “Had fun?”
“Very,” he winked.
She grinned, “Good, I’m glad you finally got back into it tonight. Been so worried about you.”
Quirking his eyebrow, Alastor asked, “Why? I don’t think a six-month hiatus is that big of an issue. We know others that have gone years before coming back.”
Shrugging, she gave his arm one last squeeze before dropping her hand. “It’s not about the how-long, it’s about the why. But now isn’t the time to talk about that, when you’re probably still feeling a little floaty after tonight. At least, I hope you’re feeling as good as I am,” she added as she chewed her lip.
He offered her a reassuring smile. “I’m certainly feeling worlds better than when I arrived. I’m glad you are too. How was Mad Scientist?”
“Really good! He’s a switch too, and he’s so fun to play with. We exchanged usernames for check-in, but I’m hoping we can setup another scene.” She playfully winked with a huge smile.
“Glad to hear it. I know you’ve been looking for a play partner that checked off all the boxes.” Alastor glanced at her more seriously. “Did he check off all the boxes? Please don’t tell me you’re settling, my dear.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not settling! For a first-time pickup play or scening together, he definitely checks all the boxes!” She hopped a little in excitement. “What about yours? He went by Lucifer, right?”
Alastor nodded and admitted, “I forgot how much fun I could have with a scene until tonight.”
“You going to set up another one together?” The hope on her face was entirely naked and easy to read.
“First thing’s first, dear Niffty, and that’s to see how I feel about him in the morning,” Alastor lightly chided.
She sighed but nodded. “Fair enough. Please tell me you at least exchanged usernames.”
“We did. He’s adamant about check-in, even making sure I make it home tonight. He seems to think bus rides are concerning for subdrop.”
“He sounds sweet,” Niffty cooed. “Not all Dom’s care to do any check-in. Some Doms I know will only do it out of duty to not look like a bad Top to our community, if word were to get out. If he’s concerned about immediate safety in case subdrop might happen, then he sounds genuine.”
Alastor shrugged and tried to dismiss it rather than pay attention to the funny feeling in his stomach, to have someone new care for him. “He flags himself as a daddy, so he’s probably just leaning into protective Daddy Dom role. Not something I need.”
She giggled, “He knows you’re a brat, right? I mean, from what I could see from your scene, you were bratting him pretty hard. I think he knows better than to assume you need a protector just because you bottomed to him. Especially if he’s as experienced as I think he is, based on how he played, the aftercare, and how he was attentive instead of running off to play with the next hottest thing.”
With a scoff, Alastor pushed her away a couple of steps, but she snapped back to him as if glued. He replied to her big hopeful smile, “Let’s first see if he actually follows through with his message tonight.”
By the time he got to his one-bedroom apartment close to 1AM, Alastor was half a mind to go straight to bed and not pay attention to anything. Despite that, he managed to revive his old routine of removing his nighttime eyeliner and rubbing his ointments where his skin was hot or painful. Once he was redressed in his pajamas, red flannel top and pants, he flopped into bed but couldn’t shut off his mind. It was still filled with enough loopy giddiness that he couldn’t help but reminisce on tonight. As his mind began melting into the memories of their play, one jumped out at him reminding him to check his online account’s message inbox.
Grabbing his dated cellphone, Alastor logged into the social site and checked his inbox. He frowned when he realized how long he had left it go unchecked, seeing an unopen email count suggesting numerous solicitations sitting in his inbox. His frown stopped when at the top of the inbox was a message from “Sin of Pride.” Clicking on the message with the subject line “checking in,” Lucifer had written, “Did you make it home safely? Let me know if anything happens tonight, and don’t forget to send me photos of your marks. I’m here if you need to talk.”
Alastor smiled at the short message, appreciating it was to the point and not full of small talk. Briefly he thought of a little bratting about the “need to talk” part, but he knew Lucifer was referring to supdrop and he wasn’t about to make light of what sometimes can be a serious subject. Especially since Lucifer clearly held the concern close to his heart.
Rolling over, he shimmied his pants down enough to snap a couple quick pictures, close enough to his skin so he wasn’t about to send booty pictures and attached them to his message. He wrote back, “I’m home and about to sleep. I don’t think I’ll need to talk tonight, so you should be good to sleep as well. Have a goodnight.” He put his phone down after sending the message, curling up to sleep. Alastor should have been annoyed to have anyone fret over him, but it felt nice. Nice enough that his floating headspace only grew and he tucked himself better into his sheets, finally able to give into the lull of sleep.