– provided by Alpha Lyon and Corvo

The following is a work of erotic fiction. Although it is based on real life events, the content, names, and all details should be viewed as fictional and should only be read by readers 18 and over.

    Jake fidgeted with the simple red business card. It was clean and crimson, a logo on one side and an address on the back, both stamped in gold letters that could only be read if they caught the light at the right angle. The address matched a small golden plaque on the front of the building: The Red House, est. 1895. Other than the double doors that were painted the boldest of reds, the façade was aggressively unassuming as it blended in with the surrounding local architecture.
    “What’s inside?” Jake remembered asking his friend as he took the red card from his friend’s outstretched hand.
“Truth.”
    The front door pulled Jake from his thoughts as an Adonis-looking man, slightly out of breath, yanked it open from inside. The man with the brightest of smiles stepped halfway outside, holding the door open for a confused looking Jake.
    “If you have that” — he nodded to the card in Jake’s hand — “you’re in the right place. But only if you walk through the door.”
Well fuck it, I guess, thought Jake. New Year, New Me, right?
    Jake was barely able to mumble out a shy thanks before brushing against the man’s tight chest and stumbling into the dimly-lit foyer.

    The wine-red walls were lined with paintings of men in various stages of undress and themed attire from over the years. Chiseled sculptures of men in all their unashamed naked glory sat on dark oak tables next to golden lamps, and Jake could feel the eyes of the painted and porcelain men follow him as he walked to the desk in the center of the room. On the desk of quiet oak sat a pen next to a leathered ledger, a golden reception bell, and a potted cactus that seemed relatably out of place in this setting.
    It’s not too late. I could get out of here. Jake fought against the frantic voice in his head which told him to run, but an almost guiding hand seemed to keep him held in place as his friend’s simple word, “Truth”, echoed in his head. In for a penny…
    Jake hit the golden bell, the ding echoing around the lobby that smelled of aged wood and time. An abstract painting on the far wall caught Jake’s eye with its chaotic swirl of colors which held a hidden semblance of dream-like order the longer he looked at it; like everything knew its place if you stopped trying to make sense of it all. As Jake waited in the silence, he ran his fingers over the cactus. The spines pricked his fingers, reminding him that this was no dream. The lobby seemed to hold its breath when —
    “Welcome to The Red House. I am tonight’s manager. How may I help you?”
    The voice startled Jake, as a handsome man dressed in an eloquent black suit now stood behind the once-vacant desk. His dark brown, almond-shaped eyes gave off an overwhelming amount of warmth from his solemn but amused face. All that Jake could say in response was an anxious, “I have this card…”
    “Of course, Sir. A referral. A first timer. And do we know what we are looking for tonight?”
    Thinking for a few moments Jake responded with the loudest answer that called from within: “Truth.”
    The polite smile on the receptionist’s face grew into a mischievous grin. “We have just the room for you.”

    The house felt much larger on the inside than its exterior led Jake to believe as the Manager led him down a series of maze-like corridors. The hallways were lined with doors on both sides, behind which indescribable sounds called out. The doors all looked the same, save for the small golden room numbers on each. It was at the end of one particularly long hallway that the Manager stopped. He pulled a golden key from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out to Jake but did not let go of it as he spoke.
    “Behind this door is what you are looking for, even if it is not what you think you are looking for. Any questions you have will be answered in the room.” The Manager’s voice was hypnotic, holding Jake at the end of every word with the intensity behind every cryptic syllable. “Nothing will happen without your consent, but should you agree, you will find what we provide.”    “And what is it, exactly, you provide here?”
    “Everything and nothing. In a word, I guess you could say we offer…truth.”
    The doorknob was warm to the touch as Jake turned the key. The heart in his throat was palpable, beating so hard and so loud that it was providing the entire experience with a drumbeat soundtrack. While the effort to open the door was great, it wasn’t reflected in how quickly everything opened up for him. As the door silently swung to the left it revealed…
    Nothing. Void. An empty room with a cool and cutting breeze so dark that it didn’t even seem to have walls. The room was almost far more cold than the doorknob made it out to be. The heat had clearly been off in here for quite some time. Jake turned to ask if this was normal, but The Manager had already disappeared.
    Any questions you have will be answered in the room.
    The Manager’s words rang in his head but Jake was hearing them with a mocking tone now. He stepped inside and felt the walls for a light switch which did not exist. He had hoped the light would reveal a smorgasbord of men lying on a room length bed, bodies writhing in pornographic knots of flesh and sin. But there was nothing. Just a short, altar-like pillar standing in the center of the room, with something he couldn’t quite make out sitting atop. As he stepped ahead to inspect it, the realization dawned that his eyes weren’t adjusting. The door was closing. And with it, the light from the hallway. Panic started to seep in but was quickly washed away by some unseen force. A force like the one he felt in the lobby earlier. Instead of fear, a sense of comfort wrapped its arms around him as the door clicked shut. Jake gulped and continued ahead.
    With the first step, a dull light started to shine from the altar’s face in a pattern he couldn’t quite discern. As he continued ahead, it began to take shape; curved writing on the face of the altar that could only be seen from the correct angle and at the right time. The writing was lit up in a shining gold, glowing from some ethereal place, but arched around an object in the center of the altar. The writing simply said, “WEAR ME”. Jake was confused, given the item: a steel chain with an open padlock threaded through one end.
    Again, the panic started to return and Jake found himself scrambling.
I didn’t sign up for any of this. I was hoping this was a sex-thing and I was going to blow someone. Or fuck someone. Or find myself in that way. Not to be shoved into a freezing cold room and ignored. Almost as if responding to his thoughts, the letters pulsed.
    “WEAR. ME.”
    Jake could feel himself panic, as the cold air in his lungs made it harder to breathe. Just like the time he nearly drowned in the frozen pond. Just like when he was hoisted out by a local who was out walking his dog. Just like when he was wrapped in warm blankets and told to breathe slowly so the hypothermia would not take his life. He trusted the man who reminded him not to panic, not to struggle, but be calm in the moment. And just like how that man’s strong arms and warm breath breathed oxygen back into his lungs, so too did that chain collar now feel like “oxygen” in this room.
    Reaching out was tentative. Placing around the neck less so. He threaded the lock through the other loop and let it hang down around his neck, keeping the chain together but not fully locked. The chain fit snugly but felt oddly safe. The wording suddenly faded and shifted, now being replaced by, “LOCK ME”.
    With a gulp, Jake obeyed and snapped the lock shut.
    The moment he did, a breeze picked up in the room but this time it wasn’t cold. It was warm and blew away Jake’s clothes in flakes of tattered ash until his naked skin lit up with excited goosebumps. The lock around his neck became heavier and heavier. The weight of the collar was not uncomfortable, but after a few moments, Jake could not resist the weight any longer. Despite trying to keep upright, the pull of gravity was too much and he sank to his knees. When panic started one last time to rise back up, Jake banished it and gave in fully to the forces of nature.
    I came here to find myself. Find out about myself. Let’s find out who I am.
    Jake slid down from a kneeling position, his ass naturally perked in the air with his cock and balls swaying slowly in the now warm breeze. His forehead touched the ground, the tip of his nose mashed lightly against it. From this perspective he could see nothing other than blurry grain of the hardwood floors.
    “Looks like we got a fresh fag.”
    A deep baritone voice rang out from somewhere behind him in the room, but Jake had no idea from where. He lifted his head slightly, but the collar had almost magnetically stuck to the floor, keeping him from rising in any way.
    I’m not a fag. I’m versatile… Aren’t I? The thought was immediately interrupted by a rough finger touching his exposed asshole, causing Jake to flinch. The voice chuckled as the finger dragged itself up his crack, tracking along his spine. One boot stepped forward and the smell hit him. The scent of sweat and musk combined with tough leather. Another bootstep and the collar gave a little leeway, allowing him to raise his head just enough to see the high boots before him. Black leather. Tightly woven laces. Thick soles. Jake immediately started to get aroused, and hoped that the room was too dark for the visitor to see his relatively small dick becoming stiff.
    Staring at these boots he suddenly saw a set of fingers as they slid themselves along his jawline before entering his mouth. They caused him to gag but without even a conscious thought, Jake found himself suppressing it. He focused on the taste of the fingers, of sweat, oil, and rugged flesh.
    “Good boy,.” the voice growled out, sliding the fingers further down his throat as he obeyed. The fingers twisted in his mouth and retreated until they pressed up against the roof of his mouth, guiding him and raising him to a kneeling position. The ambient light in the room seemed to get a little brighter and he could see in front of him was a tall and heavily muscled man, covered in hair and leather, but exposing all the areas one would be desperate to see. The abs and chest were rippling under the glow of some unknown light source. Biceps twitched and flexed, tendons rippling in the forearm that still had its fingers down Jake’s throat. The man’s bearded face was overwhelmingly handsome as well, a reminiscent amalgamation of men he had looked up to in his life. Even if he could speak with two fingers down his throat, Jake had nothing to say. Just awe. Jake did have one thought however.
God I want to suck your dick.
    The man removed his hand from Jake’s mouth and the floor lit up in golden letters like the text from the altar: “DON’T LIE”. A boot tapped, gesturing towards the text. Jake locked up for a moment, unsure of what the meaning was until he realized this wasn’t a craving. He didn’t want to suck this Alpha man’s cock. He needed to. The craving was for sustenance, like oxygen, not simply for carnal fun.
    “I need to serve you, Sir. May I?”    The temperature of the room increased again, becoming the perfect temperature. The difference between where Jake ended and the room began had suddenly become very blurry. The Alpha laughed and smiled down at Jake.
    “Good boy. This isn’t about what you want. This is about what you need. And what you need is to serve. Isn’t that right, fag?”
    The term fag didn’t irk Jake at all this time. Instead, it felt like a warm hug. Like a reminder of a place he didn’t even know he needed to discover. He was barely able to squeak out a meager, “Yes Sir.”
    The Alpha’s hands grabbed him by the hair and started guiding him towards his cock, glistening and dripping pre-cum. “What do you want?”
    “Your cock Sir.”
    “What do you need?”
    “To serve you, Sir.”
    “Good faggot. One more question and then you can have your treat and serve me at the same time.”
    “Yes, Sir. What is your question for this faggot, Sir?”
    “Who do you belong to?”

To Be Continued…