The next day pretty much flowed like the last that is until around 5:30 when Kurt looked up to greet a new customer and came face to face with Max. He was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, looking very different from the leatherman he had been watching in the bar, but the face was unmistakable. The drooping handlebar mustache and his confident smile and square jaw looked slightly out of place in the casual business outfit, but still announced Max was all man.
Kurt stammered, "is there something I can help you with?"
Max just smiled and shook Kurt's hand. "the name's Max, and I've seen you out at the bar quite a lot lately."
Kurt nodded "I'm Kurt."
Max cut in, "I need a set of bookshelves. Something traditional"
Kurt reverted to the salesman and escorted Max to a row of several traditional styled bookcases near the back of the store.
"It's for my office. I need something that can hold a lot of books and just screams 'lawyer'."
Kurt turned, "Lawyer? But I thought…"
"You thought just because I am a Bohemian I don't have a real job?"
Kurt blushed as he answered, "Well I guess you can't judge a book by its cover."
Max chuckled, "Everyone has a day job, Kurt."
After a few minutes Max selected a pair of matching rosewood bookcases and as he was taking his credit card back from Kurt he returned it into his wallet, the paused. Pulling a business card out he handed it to Kurt."
Kurt expected a business card of a lawyer but he saw in his hands a card with the Bohemians' logo and the name Max Gentry. Below it was the title "Run Captain".
"We're having a party next weekend and Sal tells me you are interested in getting more involved. Come by the clubhouse around 11:00pm on Saturday. Show this at the door and you're in. It will give you a chance to see if you fit in."
Kurt thanked Max and tucked the card safely in his own wallet.
The rest of the day was a blur. All Kurt could think about was getting to actually party with the Bohemians, though he really had no idea what kind of party to expect.
That afternoon, he dropped by the local hardware store and bought a short length of chrome chain. Once home, he used a pair of pliers to pry apart one of the links and then attach both ends together forming a short loop of glistening chrome chain. He then took out his leather jacket and threaded the loop through the left epaulet and snapped it closed. He tried on the jacket before his mirror and liked what he saw. He knew from reading Drummer magazine that the chain on the left shoulder meant he was a Top, just in case anyone was confused. Symbols meant a lot to these guys, not so much for anything ceremonial, but to cut through the small talk and advertise.
Keys on the left, chain, hankies they all gave a clear signal what the wearer was into. It made things much more efficient before investing a lot of time cruising another guy only to find he was looking for exactly what you were looking for. Besides in a dark bar with music blaring, non-verbal communication seemed like a good idea.
Kurt was nervous and turned on at the same time. He ended up jerking off before getting dressed just to ease his nerves and relieve the persistent hardon he had when wearing leather. He showered, and cleaned out just in case someone was interested in his ass, and laid out his clothes.
Jeans. Worn but not ragged. T-shirt, plain white and a little tight to show off the work he had been doing at the gym. A jock, used but clean. Then came the boots. He had a pair of solid black Doc Martin's that would pass for the military style boots most of the other leathermen wore. By the time he had dressed his dick was straining at his jeans again, but he looked like he would fit in well enough at this gathering. No vest or colors. Not a club member yet and he didn't want to show up over dressed.
On the way to the address he had been given, he stopped at a fast food drive through and grabbed a small burger and a soda. He figured he wouldn't get much in the way of food tonight, but from everything he had read, food was not what these kinds of events were about.
He ate in his car, and then headed off to an industrial part of town. The street signs were harder to read as he left any signs of commerce behind and traveled down deserted streets lined with warehouses. Up ahead he saw a few other cars parked, and a couple of men standing under a street lamp smoking cigarettes. He assumed correctly that this must be the address, since it was the only building on the block that had any signs of life. As he drew closer, he saw that both men wore leather jackets and sported motorcycle caps. Near the building he saw a line of motorcycles parked, at least a dozen of them. This was the place.
He parked near the end of the building in a space on the street. Sitting in his car, he gulped the last of the soda and watched. Kurt was debating whether or not to get out and approach the building. He was intimidated by the guys outside and the array of motorcycles. Most of them were Harley Davidson, with a smattering of Hondas and one that he recognized as a vintage Indian. He had come this far, might as well go in and at least look around.
Exiting his car he walked past the two men under the streetlamp. They nodded at him as he passed and he continued to the door. There was a short flight of steps to the entrance since the whole building was built at loading dock height. He heard music from inside and could see light leaking out through the shuttered windows.
At the top of the stairs was a simple metal door, once painted red, but now rusted in spots, it had the address painted on it. He pulled it open and the sounds from inside washed over him along with the faint odor of cigar smoke.
Inside he was greeted by a short man dressed in leather chaps, a jock and a vest. He smiled at Kurt and held out a hand. Kurt reached into his wallet and produced the card Max had given him.
"Oh you are the guy Max told me about." He waved Kurt into the small lobby of the building, "this is where you schmooze, socialize and if you need something to drink see Rudy the bartender." He motioned to a guy standing behind a small table with a few bottles of liquor and a big tub of ice. There was also a cooler on the floor stuffed with sodas and some water.
"The playroom is through the black door and there are shelves for your clothes and gear just to the right inside. And make sure you have your stuff covered when you come in here." He affected a Brooklyn accent, "We's civilized you know?"
Kurt smiled and wandered in still trying to adjust to exactly what he was seeing. There were a few men in various states of undress standing around talking and smoking cigars mostly. He approached the bartender and looked at the bottles.
"What will you have?" The man smiled. "I'm Rudy by the way, and you are?"
"Kurt, I am a friend of Max's"
"Oh yea I heard about you."
Kurt started to order a vodka and tonic but Rudy leaned close to him and spoke, "you might not want to drink any hard stuff this early, if you are going to play, you want to have your wits about you."
"You got 7-up?" Kurt asked.
Rudy leaned down grabbed a chilled green bottle and popped the top off with the church key hanging from his belt. "Good choice, Kurt."
Kurt started to open his wallet and Rudy blocked him with his hand. "No money here in the clubhouse. We don't have a license and besides you are a guest!"
Kurt took the bottle and nodded as he took a sip.
"Maybe later I can meet up with you in there." Rudy motioned to the door. "Have fun!"
Kurt walked towards the black door and mustering up all his courage pulled it open. Inside the music was slightly louder, but not like in the bars. You could talk over this without yelling. He also heard a variety of pops, snaps, thwacks and groans, and the air hung heavy with the scent of men and a slight odor of poppers and sex.
His eyes adjusted to the dark interior and he saw that there were spotlights pointed at various pieces of equipment arranged around the sides of the warehouse space. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough that the 30 or so men inside had plenty of room. There were a row of slings down the middle of the space, each with a light hanging down above them and a small table beside each one. One of them was occupied by what looked like one of the guys he had watched at Sal's leather shop. He was spread wide with his feet in the stirrups and another man, naked with his arm buried deep in his ass.
Against the walls were wooden "X"s and functioned as support for several naked men shackled to them with leather cuffs. Behind each man was another man, some dressed and others just wearing jeans. They wielded big leather floggers and were smacking the backs of their partners. With each thud the man on the cross responded, some with groans and others with muffled screams.
Kurt stood transfixed watching the scene before him. He felt a hand move across his ass, then up to his shoulders. A deep voice whispered in his ear, "why don't you take off your jacket and stay a while?"
He turned to see Max, closer than he had ever seen him. He smiled, "there are shelves just over there by the door. Your stuff will be safe."
He helped Kurt out of his jacket and led him over to the shelves. After depositing his jacket Max once again encircled Kurt's shoulders. He put his face close to Kurt's, so close Kurt could feel his mustache on his cheek.
"Welcome to our little world!" Max's hand had slid back down Kurt's back and he started rubbing his ass. "We are a friendly group, I hope you don't object to that."
Max then pulled Kurt to him and kissed him greedily on the mouth, his tongue exploring as his hand groped Kurt's ass. Kurt kissed back just as eagerly, trying to not appear too eager.
Max broke the kiss and spoke again, "have a good look around and watch whatever you like. You might get invited to join in if you are up for it, but no pressure."
Kurt's voice broke as he replied, "thanks, I guess I just need to get comfortable."
Max kissed him again, but this time it was just a small peck. "I understand, it's a lot to take in for a first time. I assume this is your first time at a party?"
Kurt nodded still slightly intoxicated from Max's lips and scent.
"Enjoy, and if you have any questions, ask me. I have a feeling you might really have something to offer once you get your confidence up."
He left and Kurt was alone again watching all the variety of hot rough sex going on.
He suddenly was startled by what sounded like a shotgun blast.
He turned to see a man with a long bull whip in an area farther away from the rest. He was behind a naked man tied with rope to a bar hanging from a wench. The bar was high enough that his feet were on the floor, but his arms were extended and his hands actually held onto the steel bar for support.
Kurt watched the bull whip as it slithered along the floor, the man holding it preparing for another swing. He reared back, raising his arm about shoulder height and deftly flicked his arm forward. As he snapped his wrist, the long leather whip flew through the air, like a snake striking its prey. As it reached its full extension, there was another loud bang and the end of the whip dragged across the back of the naked target. It seemed like the force of the whip was expended making the sound before the actual whip touched his back, but it was sufficient to leave a bright red whelp and an equally loud reaction from the man it hit.
Kurt was transfixed.
The man's back had a pattern of marks that looked like a herringbone criss-crossing his shoulders and back. As he watched he noticed that some of the marks were actually seeping a little blood while others were just raised and red.
Instead of being shocked, Kurt was excited. His dick was straining at his jeans and he was shaking with the rush of adrenaline almost as though he was the man being beat. It didn't take a genius to realize that the man with the whip had spent countless hours honing his skill. Kurt watched the scene with a combination of excitement and admiration.
He began to feel a little dizy, and realized he needed to sit down. He turned and went back to the small room that served as a lobby and grabbed another 7-Up. Sitting on a broken down sofa that was against one wall he just drank the soda and sweat. Rudy sat down beside him.
Kurt turned to Rudy, wiped the sweat from his eyes and smiled, "yes I think I am!"