The Bet

Allan released me from the bonds connecting me to the Cross, supporting me as I stepped free. I tried to shake him off, insisting I was fine - the whole scene had only lasted a few minutes, and I hadn't done anything - but he held firm. Once we started to walk, I realized to my embarrassment that I was not fine. My knees felt like jelly and my head swam. Changing my tune completely, I leaned gratefully into Allan's supportive embrace as we moved away from the scene area.

Someone appeared out of nowhere with a chair and a cold bottle of water, then someone else with a second chair. My eyes tracked the bottle as Allan took it. I hadn't realized until just that moment how thirsty I was. Allan helped me to sit, then opened the bottle and held it to my lips. I drank greedily, feeling odd about letting him serve it to me this way but too thirsty to argue. When I finished, Allan took the bottle away and sat down next to me. He put his arm around my shoulders and looked into my face.

"How are you feeling, Ray? A real answer. Don't just say OK."

I thought for a moment. "Tired. Strange. But good."

Allan nodded knowingly, stroking my hair. "When we get into doing real scenes together, you'll feel even better after." I was too comfortable to protest his use of "when" instead of "if" and simply rested my head against his shoulder, letting the sounds of the club wash over me. We sat together for a while in silence; I'm not sure how long, until finally I shook myself and sat up, feeling clear-headed for the first time since the scene had started.

Allan smiled down at me. Even while seated, the difference in our heights was very apparent. It made me feel small, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing.

"Feeling better?" I was. In fact, I felt great, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, a weight I didn't even realize I was carrying.

"Yes, sir." I smiled back up at him. "Thank you. That was amazing. I never knew..." I trailed off, unable to put my feelings into words.

Allan just nodded his understanding. "So." He said briskly, suddenly all business, "I believe we have a bet to settle." He rose. "We can use my office. Come on."

His office? What did he mean by that? I wondered. I didn't think leaving together right now was part of the bet. I liked him a lot but that didn't mean it was safe to go off alone with him yet. But Allan didn't head towards the front door - instead, he led the way to the back wall of the club. There was a black door marked "Private". No surprise I hadn't seen it before; it blended right in.

Allan pulled a key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the door, ushering me in by putting a hand on my butt and giving a little push. When I startled, he just flashed the wolfish grin I remembered so vividly from earlier. I rubbed the sore Mark on my neck and redefined as I recalled his promise to do the same to other parts of me.

I still wasn't sure what was going on or what to expect, but it sure wasn't what I saw next. The private door opened to a short, well-lit hallway. At the end of the hall were two doors, one labeled "Delivery Entrance" and the other with a nameplate on the door.

I stopped short. "I am such an idiot." Allan gave me a questioning look. "You're Mr. Allan Glover." The owner of the club. No wonder everyone had stopped to watch when he ran a scene. I couldn't believe he was interested in me. Allan Glover had looks, money, and a reputation as one of the best Doms in the area.

He probably won't be interested after my news, I thought to myself, and sighed. And the stakes had just increased, because if the club owner didn't want transgender men in his club, I'd never be able to come back. Even if I never played with anyone, I still enjoyed my visits here. The last couple gay clubs I'd been to hadn't been specifically BDSM clubs, and I'd left anyway once my transgender status became widely known.

Allan seemed surprised. "You really didn't know? I thought you just didn't want to mention it." I shook my head. "Well," he said with a smile, "I guess I've still got what it takes to pick up an attractive young thing like you. You can never tell if someone is just interested in you because of money, these days."

I nodded again, unsure of how to respond. Allan used a second key to open his office door, then took my arm to lead me inside. The office wasn't as luxuriously furnished as I expected, but it wasn't shabby either. In the center of the room was a large wooden desk with various papers and office supplies scattered across its surface. Behind the desk and associated chair was a wall of bookshelves and filing cabinets. The opposite wall had the door through which we had just entered and a worn blue sofa. Another door on the side wall looked as though it led to a small bathroom.

Allan sat down on the sofa, pulling me with him. At this point, my anxiety levels were running very high at this point. Telling people that I'm transgender isn't easy for me under the best of circumstances, and this situation was hardly ideal. Allan took both my hands in his and looked into my face.

"You're scared. More scared than when I started our scene." He said. I nodded, mute, and dropped my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. Allan shook his head at me. "No, Ray, that's not good enough. Talk to me." It was obviously an order.

I tried to swallow the golf ball that had suddenly sprung up in my throat. "I'm afraid you're going to hate me." I managed to croak, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. Shit, I was going to cry. I hate crying, especially around other people and double especially in front of other men. Allan just stroked the back of my hand and waited while I gathered myself.

After a moment, still studying the floor, I provided a follow-up to my first statement. "I don't want you to think I lied to you."

Allan looked mildly confused. "What would you have possibly lied to me about?" He fixed me with a piercing stare. "You aren't cheating on anyone by being with me, are you? Some twisted definition of fidelity where it's okay as long as nobody sees you naked?" Now he sounded angry. I really didn't want him angry at me.

I held up my hands. "No, sir!" I said quickly. "Nothing like that."

The deep, sexy voice came back, with its undertones of steel. "I have more exciting things planned for tonight than sitting on a couch together. Stop dancing around and talk to me. "

I wondered if those plans would change to throwing me out of his club forever once he knew the truth, but I couldn't stall anymore. I took a deep breath and blurted out "I'm transgender, sir."

Allan studied me, tilting his head to the side. "Yes?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my face, trying to gather the words to explain myself without using jargon that he probably wouldn't understand.

"I'm female to male transgender. I identify as a man, even though I was assigned female at birth and was raised as a girl. I transitioned to living as a man in my early twenties by taking testosterone injections, but I couldn't afford to have any surgeries done. I am sexually attracted to other men, so I define my sexual orientation as 'gay'."

Allan nodded slowly, seemingly taking it all in. "Right. So, what's the problem?"

My shoulders slumped. He didn't see the problem yet? Just like the others. They didn't even understand what I was trying to explain until I spelled it out for them. I shook my head, starting to feel angry at how unfair it all was. I wanted this time to be different!

"The problem, sir," I said, turning the honorary title into a sneering insult, my voice dripping condescension, "is that gay men like dick. I don't have one." I pushed myself up from the couch, turning to leave. This had all been a mistake. Why couldn't he have just let me have that scene and left me to imagine everything else? Now even the memory of it would be ruined. At least he could have let me alone to sit in the club and imagine what might have been.

Allan grabbed my wrist in a steel grip. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. "You'd better put your ass back on my couch before I blister it, boy. No one gave you permission to leave." Luckily, my instincts kicked in before my rational mind could respond. I sat. Allan leaned over me menacingly, causing me to shrink into the arm of the couch. "I still might do it, for your tone just now. Do you always respond like that to people that tell you your lack of surgery isn't a problem for them, or was that just for me?"

Confused, I said nothing. Allan continued, without waiting for me to respond. "I already knew you were transgender. All of the staff knew. Don't you remember filling out the background check paperwork?"

I was completely lost now. "You...you knew?"

The edge was still in his voice. "It's sir, boy, and you'd better not forget again. Yes, we knew. We run criminal background checks on everyone that comes in here. As soon as yours came back with your gender marker, the staff and I had a talk about you and how we would work with the other members to deal with your situation. We didn't tell anyone else, but we were there to make sure nobody had a problem with you because of it. I wasn't sure what you looked like naked, but it didn't matter." I had forgotten about the background check, and hadn't realized in the first place that it would reveal me. I wanted to cry, again. I had him completely wrong. He'd been trying to help me!

Allan had more to say. "Until I saw you, night after night. You sat in your booth, alone, vulnerable, and so damned sexy I could barely stand it. Then I cared very much about seeing you naked. But I wanted to give you a chance to find another partner, because I knew once the other members saw me go after you, they'd figure you were off limits. I was looking forward to tonight when I was finally going to make it happen."

I cringed at his use of the past tense. "You were looking forward to it, sir?" I asked, careful of my tone and the use of the honorific this time.

Allan sighed and stroked my face. "We're both very upset. I'm not sure now is the time."