"Good," he said, watching the man finish his drink and lower the glass onto the counter. It was obviously too soon to know whether or not this evening would be worthwhile or not, but the gentle look in his potential submissive's eyes made him feel hopeful that he'd picked the right person. Obviously he had little experience doing this, judging by the way he kept looking at Loki and proceeded to immediately ask a question, but there was always something nice about the new ones. A little push back made things exciting.
"You will follow me... or rather, you will follow my feet. Keep your gaze lowered and only speak when I ask you to speak."
He rose to his feet then, gesturing plainly for the other man to do the same. There would be no punishments until he knew the rules, but after that? Well, sometimes people spoke out on purpose. One could never know beforehand.
"I'd also like a name, real or fake."
From that point he began walking forward, around chattering people and toward a staircase tucked away in the back right hand corner of the bar. Though the noise lessened as they approached, other sounds could be heard above. Sounds of lovemaking, and the occasional cry of pain.
Castiel was a good soldier. It only took hearing an order once for him to obey it, even if he didn't actually understand it. He'd question, if he had to question, but while he already understood, he'd keep his silence. This was done for pleasure, and he was trying to blend in, already long since having established that pain and obedience was all part of the enjoyment for the people here. To fit in, he had to be the same as them. He had to avoid questioning it, like them.
"Cas. My name is Cas," he added, as he moved into position at Loki's heel. He'd need to be there in order to see where he was going, though perhaps he could have walked just as safely beside him, he couldn't see the corridor ahead, if it narrowed, or moved around furniture. One step behind would have to do. He didn't elaborate, either, on whether the name was real or fake. Cas would be best; he'd recognize it, but it didn't reveal who he was at all.
Castiel had to hold his nerve to climb the stairs toward those noises. They were much more passionate than those smothered by the music in the club downstairs. Those were rutting, desperate sort of noises, while above, Castiel thought the sounds seemed almost...musical. There was more to them than the animal sounds that came from down below, and he wanted desperately to raise his head and look, even if there would be nothing to see but the ceiling above their heads.
Staying quiet, though, was the easiest of "Jack's" commands so far. It was easy to stay quiet; apprehensive, almost..
'Sir' was good- expected, of course, but it still pleased him to hear. While it was still far too early to tell what sort of person this Cas would be once they got started, he was perfectly obedient thus far. Unbelievably, there were plenty of people who would approach him and then act like they were entitled to some sort of special treatment.
Loki personalized his evening as time passed. Planning too far ahead was pointless.
He did know where they were going firstly, however. The VIP room was the furthest room down the hallway as they reached the top of the stairs, a little golden plaque on the door indicating as much. He led them to another room a few doors down on the right, one he rented out whenever he was inclined to visit.
"I will prepare you for the evening in here. I hope you aren't terribly attached to any of those clothes."
He turned briefly toward Cas with a shark-line grin, then pulled a key out of one pocket to unlock and open the door. Stepping inside, he then gestured for the other man to enter as well. The room was dimly lit, not terribly extravagant, but possessed what one might expect in a hotel room. There was a bed in the center, a couch to one side and a desk to the other. The most striking difference was the array of sexual devices and toys spread out out over a table near the wardrobe.
There was something very troubling about Jack having his own room here at the club, although Castiel couldn't figure out quite what that was. He glanced at the plaque, however, as they stepped away from it, away from the hum of voices and sex within, feeling his concern deepen. What if this man wanted to have sex here, now, and at length, and had no intention of taking him to the VIP room at all? How would he watch for Loki then?
He felt another flutter of panic at the threat to his clothes, inclined to open his mouth and respond. He'd need them back in order to leave, but moreover he was attached to his coat. It was symbolic of...he didn't know what. But without it, he just wasn't himself.
He'd have to fetch them back before he went. Fortunately he could fly back in here himself, he wouldn't need the key.
Castiel stepped inside once gestured, moving out into the center of the room, even though he hadn't been directed to any one place in particular. Removing his clothes wasn't something he was infinitely practiced at, at least not in a physical, practical way, and so it made him hesitate almost naturally before he removed each item of clothing, taking off the coat first, and hanging it across his arm as he removed his tie, and plucked open the buttons of his shirt. He faltered, with one hand busy holding his clothes, unable to get the dress jacket and shirt off without first putting the clothes down--and the floor wouldn't do, didn't even occur to him. Not even Sam and Dean abandoned their clothes on the floor, and he hadn't learned the habit.
He moved for the bed to lay his things down, instead, and only then would he remove the rest of his clothing, one item at a time, with almost utilitarian focus on each task.
Cas' initial hesitation at his command was expected, but as Loki watched the way he undressed almost robotically and refused to simply drop the clothes, he began to wonder a bit more.
This was not how typical submissives behaved here, not even the ones who were nervous. His earlier thought that this might be some sort of undercover law enforcement officer returned briefly, though he once again discarded the idea when he noted the lack of firearm or wires as the man stripped. Naturally he wouldn't have complied if he had those things anyway, would he have?
So, why was he behaving oddly? Loki had centuries to learn how to read peoples' body language, a must for a trickster such as himself. Cas lacked many of the usual signs of excitement one would expect at a sex club. He considered the possibility that Cas might not be human- other beings frequented places like this often enough. It was a possibility.
Or maybe he just had an unusual personality quirk. Maybe it didn't matter either way.
"You seem nervous. Are you planning to back out of this?"
Castiel faltered, and forgot himself, turning toward Loki, curiously. He seemed nervous? He didn't feel remotely nervous--there was no part of this that frightened him. And yet he was aware that something - something was preventing this from clicking for the other man. He was uncomfortable, perhaps, or doubtful of Castiel's ability to perform some part of this suitably.
Which meant that he needed to do better. He needed to...to what? Castiel reached into his own mind, urgently, but all he could find there were Dean's sex dreams, and women dancing up against poles. Maybe he should be dancing.
But Loki was wrong; he wasn't unarmed, and there was a skewer of wood in his inside coat pocket with the god's name on it. Castiel was comfortable that he'd have time to fetch it when the god showed himself.
"Certainly not," he answered. "I merely... You asked me to strip, you weren't explicit as to how, so I assumed that you craved efficiency." He remembered himself, and dipped his eyes down to stare at the other man's feet instead. "However if you wish me to dance, I'm afraid I would have to disappoint you."
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"You will follow me... or rather, you will follow my feet. Keep your gaze lowered and only speak when I ask you to speak."
He rose to his feet then, gesturing plainly for the other man to do the same. There would be no punishments until he knew the rules, but after that? Well, sometimes people spoke out on purpose. One could never know beforehand.
"I'd also like a name, real or fake."
From that point he began walking forward, around chattering people and toward a staircase tucked away in the back right hand corner of the bar. Though the noise lessened as they approached, other sounds could be heard above. Sounds of lovemaking, and the occasional cry of pain.
no subject
Castiel was a good soldier. It only took hearing an order once for him to obey it, even if he didn't actually understand it. He'd question, if he had to question, but while he already understood, he'd keep his silence. This was done for pleasure, and he was trying to blend in, already long since having established that pain and obedience was all part of the enjoyment for the people here. To fit in, he had to be the same as them. He had to avoid questioning it, like them.
"Cas. My name is Cas," he added, as he moved into position at Loki's heel. He'd need to be there in order to see where he was going, though perhaps he could have walked just as safely beside him, he couldn't see the corridor ahead, if it narrowed, or moved around furniture. One step behind would have to do. He didn't elaborate, either, on whether the name was real or fake. Cas would be best; he'd recognize it, but it didn't reveal who he was at all.
Castiel had to hold his nerve to climb the stairs toward those noises. They were much more passionate than those smothered by the music in the club downstairs. Those were rutting, desperate sort of noises, while above, Castiel thought the sounds seemed almost...musical. There was more to them than the animal sounds that came from down below, and he wanted desperately to raise his head and look, even if there would be nothing to see but the ceiling above their heads.
Staying quiet, though, was the easiest of "Jack's" commands so far. It was easy to stay quiet; apprehensive, almost..
no subject
Loki personalized his evening as time passed. Planning too far ahead was pointless.
He did know where they were going firstly, however. The VIP room was the furthest room down the hallway as they reached the top of the stairs, a little golden plaque on the door indicating as much. He led them to another room a few doors down on the right, one he rented out whenever he was inclined to visit.
"I will prepare you for the evening in here. I hope you aren't terribly attached to any of those clothes."
He turned briefly toward Cas with a shark-line grin, then pulled a key out of one pocket to unlock and open the door. Stepping inside, he then gestured for the other man to enter as well. The room was dimly lit, not terribly extravagant, but possessed what one might expect in a hotel room. There was a bed in the center, a couch to one side and a desk to the other. The most striking difference was the array of sexual devices and toys spread out out over a table near the wardrobe.
This place was always well-equipped.
"Strip."
no subject
He felt another flutter of panic at the threat to his clothes, inclined to open his mouth and respond. He'd need them back in order to leave, but moreover he was attached to his coat. It was symbolic of...he didn't know what. But without it, he just wasn't himself.
He'd have to fetch them back before he went. Fortunately he could fly back in here himself, he wouldn't need the key.
Castiel stepped inside once gestured, moving out into the center of the room, even though he hadn't been directed to any one place in particular. Removing his clothes wasn't something he was infinitely practiced at, at least not in a physical, practical way, and so it made him hesitate almost naturally before he removed each item of clothing, taking off the coat first, and hanging it across his arm as he removed his tie, and plucked open the buttons of his shirt. He faltered, with one hand busy holding his clothes, unable to get the dress jacket and shirt off without first putting the clothes down--and the floor wouldn't do, didn't even occur to him. Not even Sam and Dean abandoned their clothes on the floor, and he hadn't learned the habit.
He moved for the bed to lay his things down, instead, and only then would he remove the rest of his clothing, one item at a time, with almost utilitarian focus on each task.
no subject
This was not how typical submissives behaved here, not even the ones who were nervous. His earlier thought that this might be some sort of undercover law enforcement officer returned briefly, though he once again discarded the idea when he noted the lack of firearm or wires as the man stripped. Naturally he wouldn't have complied if he had those things anyway, would he have?
So, why was he behaving oddly? Loki had centuries to learn how to read peoples' body language, a must for a trickster such as himself. Cas lacked many of the usual signs of excitement one would expect at a sex club. He considered the possibility that Cas might not be human- other beings frequented places like this often enough. It was a possibility.
Or maybe he just had an unusual personality quirk. Maybe it didn't matter either way.
"You seem nervous. Are you planning to back out of this?"
no subject
Which meant that he needed to do better. He needed to...to what? Castiel reached into his own mind, urgently, but all he could find there were Dean's sex dreams, and women dancing up against poles. Maybe he should be dancing.
But Loki was wrong; he wasn't unarmed, and there was a skewer of wood in his inside coat pocket with the god's name on it. Castiel was comfortable that he'd have time to fetch it when the god showed himself.
"Certainly not," he answered. "I merely... You asked me to strip, you weren't explicit as to how, so I assumed that you craved efficiency." He remembered himself, and dipped his eyes down to stare at the other man's feet instead. "However if you wish me to dance, I'm afraid I would have to disappoint you."