It might have been described as a hub of sin, or a refuge of passion; perhaps it has been called the "height of depravity", or a sanctuary of liberation. No matter what the truth was, the Stratus Hotel was called none of these things. Any hint of such a nature had never been gleaned by those not meant to know it.
The "exclusive services" that were provided by the hotel did not cost any money to enjoy. The currency used in these exchanges was somewhat more unorthodox. Those who paid this price were inclined to believe it was worthwhile.
Should prying eyes steal a peek at the register of the Stratus Hotel, they would see the latest name written there was "David West". There was an omega symbol stamped next to this entry, the significance of which no staff member would be willing to explain.
//
David sat bound to a chair: naked, immobilized and blindfolded with a silk scarf. His wrists were bound in leather cuffs that were firmly attached with canvas straps to the back legs of the chair. His ankles were secured to the sides with similar restraints, splaying his legs and leaving his bare body fully exposed. Though he could wriggle plenty if he wished, David knew there was no escaping of his own will.
He felt the narrow paddle slide along the top of his thigh. From behind him a soft wind chilled his neck as his tormentor blew lightly against his skin. A phantom of a sensation, but he could not ignore the omen that paddle represented. He flexed his leg a bit beneath the touch. He knew the instrument was matte black and entirely smooth. Almost innocuous, still he did not doubt what it could do.
Lady Zia blew softly again across David's neck. She tapped the paddle along his thigh. Light pats up to his hip, downward again, coming so near but never touching his crotch.
Anticipation tugged at his stomach. Was she going to hit him harder? Strike his exposed cock? Would her whims lead him only to pain tonight? He dragged his teeth against his lip, doing his best to keep his questions from bubbling up to the surface.
//
It was inevitable that David's desires would lead him away from the beaten path. It was in his bones, in his marrow. To give himself over to the will of another. The world he lived in seemed poorly designed to accept what he had to give, and he had strayed already to seek out a recipient.
He did not know what waited for him at the edge, what had glimpsed him from the dark, and now drew nearer and nearer.
Like many abyssal realms, this particular one can be approached via the internet. David was online when he got his first warning that he failed to heed. At home, sitting at his desk, he indulged his submissive fantasies by watching bondage and kink videos online. During one very arousing video, David's hand had wandered away from the mouse towards his increasing erection. He had begun pressing a hand against the crotch of his pants when a pop-up got in the way of his video.
"What the-" A black rectangle with starkly blue letters. So much for his ad-blocker. He went to click the x and get back to his video, but stopped short when he read the text.
-Give yourself over.-
That was... ominous? He hovered the cursor over the letters, and as he had suspected, found that it was a link. It was very abrupt, for advertising. David was sure he had never seen it before. There was no indication of what the link was for. Perhaps another porn site? A cam girl? It seemed to be ridiculous, not very persuasive click-bait. He hit the x.
His video had finished, but he felt thoroughly distracted. The words were powerful and had struck a chord with him. Wasn't that exactly what he wanted to do? So how did this message happen to find him? It must be a pop-up triggered by the kind of videos he watched. Yes, it must be. That made sense.
He clicked another video. Wanting to get back to his pleasure. This time the video was only 30 seconds in before a black rectangle popped up in the way.
-Surrender your will.-
Again! But a different one. David hovered his cursor over the words, highlighting the link.
What is this? He thought. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't intrigued. The curiosity was enough to have him fidgeting in his seat. The terribly dangerous idea glowing in his mind:
There's only one way to find out. And wasn't it true?
He shrugged off the foreboding and clicked the link. A new window opened.
Most of what he was looking at was an image of stars leaving trails in the sky, the way they do with a time-elapse camera. Large blue letters were superimposed on the image, and a blank text box waited beneath it for some kind of input.
David pressed his mouth closed in a firm expression of scrutiny, carefully reading the blue text on the screen before him.
-Give yourself over. Surrender your will. Submit your being. Do all these things and be granted my attention. The way is open. Lower your ego and let me in. Enter your name below.-
What about that? Terribly dramatic, cryptic and even so... compelling? David's mind tugged in two directions. On one side he was immobilized and could feel the orders of his self-defense pushing him to shut this message down, wipe his browser history and scan every bite on his computer for threats.
And, on the other side, the simplest instinct. It said "yes, go ahead." And though he knew how indulgent that feeling was, David felt it writhing in his core. Something impossible was calling for him. A primal force. The scariest part of it all was how much he felt drawn to this will. The words were only a shadow of whatever reached out to take him. Only a shadow and he couldn't stop thinking of how much he wanted to be taken.
It was an emotional undertow. No other warnings from his logical side were enough to compete with the force. He clicked the text box beneath the message and typed his name.
D A V I D W E S T. He pressed enter. There was a ringing sound triggered from the web page. A single tinny chime. Then the window shut itself without further explanation.
//
David stood in front of his mailbox. He flipped the envelope over, examining it closely. There were no stamps, no postage marks at all. Nothing faded and no trace of any residual glue. Only a plain envelope with a single blue omega symbol printed on the back.
"Well..." He muttered, not sure what to make of it. Still, there was only one way to find out. He tore open the envelope and slid out the card inside.
It was an invitation. On the front, a vine-bordered field with silvery script announced "You are cordially invited..." and on the inside- something slipped out of the card and fluttered to the floor as David opened it. He fumbled to catch it, but had to pluck the piece of card-stock from the floor. It was a business card for the Stratus Hotel. David raised a brow at it before reading the interior of the invitation.
It read: "...to answer the call of fate. October 3rd. 22:30."
It was signed with the same blue omega. And that was all.
What? Where did this come from?
//
The hook was not even baited, and still David bit. The card should not have been in his mailbox. Could not have innocently arrived there. Not without a dubious explanation. The curiosity triggered in David was a strong enough compulsion to push him out of his home the evening of October 3rd.
David had passed by the Stratus Hotel many times without it truly taking root in his memory. It was a tall, brick and glass structure wedged into a city block with a squat office building on one side and an obscure two-story art gallery on the other. It looked to David like an expensive establishment, to the point that as he passed from the outer vestibule into the lobby he was worried the staff would throw him right back out.
Instead he was beckoned from across the marble entrance hall by the hostess near the door to the cocktail lounge.
"This way," she said, her smile sweet and friendly.
"I-" David glanced over his shoulder, uncertain. No, there was no one else. She meant him, then?
"You're expected, Mr. West," she explained as he made his way towards her.
"Oh," David said, uncertain what to make of that, "I got this, um, card..."
