Mirror Image 13

The venue seemed to be alive.

Stepping from the writhing dance floor casting her eyes around the interior of the club I have heard so much about

The Dark Star pulses under a myriad of lights from the dance floor that mix with the interior illumination, pale blue up lights edged with metallic purple ultraviolet lamps. The walls dark walls are dissected at intervals with seamlessly interlocking monitors displaying visuals interspersed with live scenes from the club's interior.

The club is not her usual style, but she had heard so much about the venue as had her best friend, Alana. She had lost Alana within the bowels of the venue some time ago she looks around more in hope than expectation as she pauses to tap out another WhatsApp message. Her hope not quelled despite the lack of two little blue ticks against the previous messages she had attempted to send.

Headed towards the main bar she straightens the short tight fitting skirt of the halter neck black dress that clung to her body. A dress surreptitiously borrowed from her sister's wardrobe, her own usual fashion far too conservative for such a location. Repositioning the deep cut neckline that plunges into her ample cleavage whilst checking that the hem of the dress still sits over the tops of her mid-thigh light denier stockings that she had inexplicably worn to darken her slender pale legs. Stepping towards the bar on confident steps despite the perilous long heel of her spiked heels that she was equally unaccustomed to wearing.

Every step is exciting and unfamiliar, she is lost and alone to all intents and purposes, lost in an unfamiliar world that seems enticing, raw, and so exhilarating. Strangers' eyes linger on her appearance with every step she takes as she brushes dark hazel hair from her face over her shoulder. A smirk playing across her lips at the eyes that follow her through the vast room. The excitement of feeling wanted, desired was as new as her appearance, she felt uncomfortable but equally welcomed the attention.

Pressing her way to the bar in need of refreshment as gentlemen with dark desires hidden behind their eyes step aside to grant her an ease of access to the vast expanse of marble bar before her. Her mind intoxicated far more than any drink could achieve as the long slender glass is eventually placed before her, with refusal of her attempt at payment; "Compliments of the Manager" the attractive strawberry blonde barmaid had offered with a devilish smirk.

This the second such incident to benefit yet confuse her, the first being how she and Alana had been ushered forward from the hideously long queue they had hesitated on joining on arrival at the venue.

This was an alien environment in more ways than one, her first experience of any nightclub let alone the City's newest and most notorious of locations. As she sips her vodka lime and soda the crushed ice refreshes her throat. Perhaps she should not be here, maybe that is what makes this so exciting. This was the domain of others, tonight had been a conscious decision though a night out agreed upon several weeks earlier with Alana, an opportunity to experience and explore what they had both heard so many rumours of. Her eyes casting across the sea of strangers in search of her friend once more.

Her heart is pounding faster than the frenetic beat of the music as she makes her way towards the end of the vast bar spotting a quieter space, an oasis appearing amongst the chaos and bedlam all around her.

Stood alone she checks her phone once more, frustrated by the lack of reception that means now that all three of her messages to Alana remain unread. As she drains the last of her drink she turns and sets the empty glass upon the bar to her left hand side.

"Another drink?"

The words cause her to tense, catching her unawares as she turns to her head sharply along her right shoulder. Blissfully unaware anyone was even beside her.

The male looking to be in his late thirties or early forties' sits on a stool in the gloom a mobile phone sits next to a tumbler of drink that is as dark as the suit and shirt he wears. His appearance none the less is meticulous, well-groomed stubble and a short not quite buzz cut hair style that is dark but smattered with hints of grey. He is well built; his shoulders are broad and hold up both his suit and his posture well.

She suppresses a nervous little laugh.

"Uh.... Same again" she offers conscious of the cost of drinks at the venue and what little money her bank account holds, his offer is therefore welcome, before she qualifies, "Vodka, lime and soda."

Confidently he nods and with a subtle gesture a slender blonde bartender mixes her drink within a heartbeat; whoever he is he commands attention and respect she considers as she lets her eyes linger on her brooding male suitor.

There is an aura to him, an air of darkness that creates a mystery that she feels she needs to be wary of as he slips from the bar stool he perches upon. He is tall, taller than she initially realized. There's weight of a presence to him by both his stature and persona.

Both attributes intrigue her for reasons that she cannot put a finger on. The thought that he could pluck her up in one arm and carry her lithe slender body over his shoulder is an image that inexplicably fills her mind for longer than appropriate. She offers what she hopes to be her own mysterious look with a smirk on thanking him for the drink as she focuses briefly on the bartender as he returns with a replenished glass.

"I'm a little busy at the moment, he confidently, somewhat nonchalantly offers as he slips to his feet from the bar stool, "I wasn't expecting such distractions."

His second comment laces with a dark smirk that conflicts so many emotions within her, despite no genuine knowledge of who he is.

"Oh, so you're leaving me so soon then" she finds herself saying without consideration to the words she utters.

Draining the contents of whatever sits within the tumbler he pauses as he makes to walk away. Turning back to her his eyes unapologetically casting over her body and tight fitting dress that seems to restrict the breath in her chest all of a sudden.

"I saw you on the dance floor earlier..." he all but growls as the concentration of his eye-line burns into hers, dark deep eyes set within roguish features. "...why don't I find you there a little later."

His words fall as a command rather than a request.

"I'm a little young for you, don't you think?" Are the unspoken words that echo around her mind as she leans back against the bar, intrigued yet equally worried by the attention he pays her in this briefest of interactions.

He offers another little dark, brief, smirk before turning without another word and walks away, fastening his tailored jacket around his torso as he is instantly lost into the hordes of revellers that squeezed into the venue.

Taking a moment of reflection at the audacity of the interaction she turns back to the bar. Raising her second drink in succession to her dark red lips in contemplation.

She takes her time to consume the second drink, savouring its contents her mind no longer filled with thoughts of her lost friend but on what the night may hold in Alana's absence.

Ten minutes later the long tall empty glass is cleared from the bar as she makes her way back towards the dance floor.

Her body soon lost into the gyrating mass of males and females as her hips begin to sway and her arms stretch out above her head towards the lights that strobe the dance floor as she loses herself to the music and the euphoria of the venue.

**********

A hand to her shoulder captures her attention.

She turns her head slowly her vision a blur as she struggles to find a focusses.

He locks those dark penetrating eyes right on her and simply smiles.

Prising her own body away from the strong grip of the tall dark skinned male she danced with, stepping away from him stumbling as she un-straddles the thigh she had gyrated upon as he held her in such close proximity to him.

She does not turn back, her physical and mental attention now locked in the dark brooding male she had last seen over an hour ago. His immaculate dark suit seemingly out of place given the relative state on undress of those pressed up against them.

"You appreciate the little gift in your drink," she hears him say as he brings his lips to her right ear, struggling to hear him clearly over both the music and the blood that rushes in her ears. She has no idea what he refers to.

She is not completely naive, but this experience the feelings of the night are all still very new. It is the first time she has engaged with a complete stranger like this or placed herself in a position to feel stranger's interest so acutely. She had not set out tonight on a voyage of such discovery; she is here merely for a little intrigue and excitement with her best friend.

Now she is being pursued. Like prey amongst rabid animals that hunt her, yet she does not want to avoid the traps that may well snare her. Her body and mind intoxicated by the hedonism that surrounds her.

His eyes are still on her. His lips still smiling. She can see the edge of his teeth, as if he hides them from her like a wolf would his fangs.

The sound of her accelerating heartbeat drowns out the music. She craves a drink to quell a raging thirst and cool her sweat soaked body.

"Are dance you going to dance?" She enquires as he stands before her motionless as if oblivious to his surroundings. She feels the hands of the male she had ignored slip over her waist from behind as he attempts to lure her back into his grip.

His hand, the dark suited strangers has already swallowed her wrist. Eagerly he draws her away from centre of the dancefloor and on tentative unsteady steps she follows him despite the ignorance of his silence. Her heart slamming against the walls of her ribcage in nervous anticipation of the strangers overbearing intent.

She feels dizzy; the whole room spins around, her focus snapped when his hand squeezes hers. Her attention on his suit clad body becomes her focus as she struggles to clear her bleary mind.

He leads her and she follows until in a moment of confusion she faces her own reflection. Only now realising that the long wall that lines the dancefloor provides an optical illusion from huge floor to ceiling mirrors. Stepping behind her he pushes her warm body, face first to the cold hard surface of the mirror, she sees her own eyes but barely recognises the dark glassy pools they have become.

His body immediately presses to hers, his scent intoxicates even amongst the masses that surround them. His aroma carries a hint of liquor, cologne, and something else. something darker, deeper, primal.

Her heart lurches into her throat as he draws her left behind her on the impressive tight grip of his hand. She does not even get a chance to swallow. Intensity grips her but she does not even seek to react as he takes her free hand and keeps her held against the mirror clad wall, the feel of cold hard surface wrapping her slender wrists alongside his strength.

Something feels immediately wrong. Her hands are still behind her back as his grip leaves her skin. She tries to move her hands, but she cannot. Inexplicably her hands are immobile as she faces her reflection, she realises in panic that her wrists have been locked together.

Before she can protest, the black clad stranger places a bear like paw on her shoulder and turns her to face him. His thumb presses to her chin as he cradles her jaw. His thumb presses upon the glossy dark red surface of her plump bottom lip.

She tries to find words, gasping for air nervously just as he tilts her head back and kisses her. A tender kiss in the circumstances his firm lips and tough stubbled chin pressing to her delicate face as her lips part and she responds on instinct and adrenalin. Around them their bodies brushed by fellow club goers dancing and inadvertently stumbling literally into their moment of intimacy.

"Mine... again," he whispers as he breaks the kiss.

Her eyes stare up at him, his frame towering over her even in her heels.

His grip tightens on her jaw before slipping around her neck as her eyes fall closed, his grip reinforcing his control as she takes a deep breath.

As she stands there in her own enforced darkness, the unrelenting sound of music deafens her ears as she feels both his hands now around her neck, not on her neck but fastening something firm that draws tight around her throat, she swallows harshly, acutely aware without even seeing that a collar has been applied to her slender young neck.

"What... what..." she finally finds words that then immediately fail her.

His finger presses to her lips, holding her protest and only removed as he presses something past her lips and into her mouth with his other hand.

A spherical object no larger than a small ball. It slips past her lips with ease, squeezed in by his thumb and finger as he slides it across her tongue. The instant it touches saliva, it swells and seems to harden as it grows. Her jaw instantly aches at the pressure that builds inside her mouth.

Panicking, eyes wide, as she realises instantly that without the use of her hands it is already impossible to remove the item from her mouth. Her lips are held gently apart by the gag that now ensures she falls silent.

All of this playing out in so hideously publicly, yet around them no one seems to notice, no one seems to care. Anonymously she loses her control to the metaphoric and physical darkness of the stranger stood before her as her cheeks flush from embarrassment as well as the heat of her now nervous sweat soaked body.

As their eyes meet once more, she watches mortified as from somewhere behind him he produces an item that shines as it catches the glare of the overhead lights. A brushed steel chain. Transfixed she watches as he holds up the end of the chain, visibly slipping open a clip which in an instant is attached to the collar sat around her neck, she draws in and exhales a deep nervous breath through her nostrils.

Her mind screams for escape, she desperately seeks to draw attention to her plight. Despite her wrists being cuffed, her mouth being gagged and throat collared she realises she can kick and flail, she can attempt to run. Unable to garner attention from anyone around who is willing to come to her assistance. Someone must surely notice.

Words pass his lips, but she cannot distinguish them her mind crashing under the weight of the conflicting emotions she suddenly faces.

She is nervous, but she is excited.

Moments later as he backs away the chain lead around her neck pulls taught. She follows, she has no choice but to follow on stumbling feet as she is led across the dancefloor. She can see the rest of the club, as they make their way to the steps she had walked down earlier. Her body trembling at how exposed and vulnerable she is, her eyes darting to strangers on silent pleas of mercy as she is all but paraded through the busy nightclub. Fully clothed, arms bound and gagged as she stumbles along on the height of her heels with the stranger leading the way, His hand clutching the lead taught over his shoulder. Surely someone will notice. Someone surely will question the morality of her circumstance.

From the corner of her periphery vision she spots her salvation; Alana stands to the edge of a group of people, her blue sequin effect dress catching the lights of the club, her concentration on her surroundings is lost though as she is held deep in a conversation with the tall male she stands with as she sips from a wide rimmed cocktail glass.

Pulling against the lead around her neck she hesitates, desperate to be noticed as a second male steps up behind her blonde friend standing behind her as Alana lets his arms wrap her slender waist. In the blink of an eye, she loses sight of her best friend as the crowd to the main bar blocks her line of sight as she is continually led through the venue.

Realisation hits her: the dark sordid reputation of the venue she had entered. Patrons are bound and gagged all the time, or so the rumours would have everyone believe. The reputation fulfilled by the live sex show that had played out on the main stage less than an hour ago. To the masses around her this will look like a scene that is known to play out countless times a night. The Dark Star is not a playground she should be playing in, a matter she realises far too late.

Terror grips her as he continues to lead her, eyes do cast over her but try as she might she cannot draw attention to her peril. The cold uncomfortable grip of fear of an unknown fate that inevitably seems to await her made her legs suddenly heavy. Shame tinged her fear, shame born of the occasional judgemental look she now noticed, cast mainly from female eyes as they head towards the far wall of the vast open room. The patrons literally fewer on the ground they traverse now. No longer does an opportunity exists for her to draw attention as they reach a door illuminated by the soft green glow of an emergency exit light.

He presses his hand to the bar lever of the door which eases silently open, revealing a corridor into the back of the club. The gripping realisation as she steps through the doorway that wherever the corridor leads, she will be alone with him. A privacy that will offer him an impunity. A thought that stops her rigid in her tracks as the door swing closed behind them in the darkness the humidity and noise of the club is left literally behind them as the dull base of the speakers permeates the building on ominous deep vibrations.

The club he obviously knows well, his lack of formal introduction haunting her as she considers she does not even know his name.

He stops as she holds firm despite the pressure of the lead taught against the collar, his foot having taken the first step of a staircase that leads up into darkness.

"All the private rooms are booked out... even the one beneath our feet." He offers on turning to face her.

Her knees threatening to buckle as he walks back towards her, her stomach lunging as in an effortless motion he stops, and she is plucked up from the concrete surface on which she stands. Her unnerving premonition of earlier in the evening alarmingly ringing true as the air leaves her lungs.

Her body unceremoniously hoisted from the ground before she is draped like a butcher does a carcass over his right shoulder. Her breasts flattened against his back; her cuffed arms pull uncomfortably at her shoulders from the position she finds herself in. His firm hand clutches across the back of her stocking clad thighs as effortlessly he carries her through the darkness and up the long flight of stairs. She is briefly aware that he carries her along another short corridor before he turns to his right, and they enter another room through a door that opens and closes as she attempts to raise her head in order to view her surroundings.

The music of the club even more distant, even the vibration of the bass is barely noticeable. The room is bathed in very warm yet dim light.

"This will have to suffice..." he callously offers "...given my impatience to rediscover."

He lays her on her back, laying her atop of a solid surface the cuffs and her wrist digging uncomfortably into the small of her back. Struggling she attempts to adjust and find a modicum of comfort, a feat that immediately seems impossible. Seeking to find a way to stand as her unbound legs try to find the floor beneath her. Only by extending the tip of her heel clad feet can she just manage to just about scrape her feet across the floor.

"Whattssshh..." She tries to utter into the gag turning her head to her left seeing a long black leather sofa beyond a low glass table littered with the remnants of white powder. The sofa looking infinitely more comfortable than whatever it is she is lay across. Turning her head to her right she faces a leather desk chair.