Rocky is keen to visit KUNT, the infamous fetish club he’s heard so much about. The stories are legendary, filling him with great anticipation. As he opens the door, his heart begins to pound. From excitement, or fear? What lies on the other side?
From the minute he steps inside, he knows this is a place where anything can happen. The muffled boom, boom, boom of industrial dance music permeates the walls, and he has a sudden urge to be in amongst it all.
He pushes a second door open. The space behind is dark and smoky. The music pounds in his ears as he’s confronted by a sight that almost takes his breath away. His heartbeat quickens. Little does he realize as he heads for the bar that this will be a night he’ll never forget.
Rocky zipped up his leather jacket and kept his head down against the rain. It was only his second night in the city and after hearing about KUNT, the most renowned gay fetish club in the country, a bit of rain wasn’t going to keep him from checking the place out for himself.
It wasn’t easy to find, but then again a club like that never was. It was set halfway down a dimly lit, almost dark, alleyway off the main nightclub strip. Had it not been for a pair of beefy blokes dressed in leather turning into the shadowy lane he might never have found the large letters spelling out the word ‘KUNT’ above the nondescript, rusted metal door that lead inside.
Only when he extended his hand towards the door handle did his heart start to pound a tattoo. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and as the door swung open the pounding beat of industrial dance music washed over him. He waited behind the two beefy leather men, heart still racing, while the man behind the counter hung their jackets up. One of the men had removed his leather pants and was now wearing no more than a studded leather jockstrap. The hairy cleft between his meaty butt cheeks had Rocky’s cock stirring. The man’s friend was wearing leather chaps, a harness and a black leather policeman’s cap. He was smooth and muscular, and his back was covered in a tattoo of a Chinese dragon. The man behind the counter, having finished hanging up their clothing, took some money from the man with the leather chaps and the two men pushed through a large wooden door, disappearing into the smoky otherworld on the other side.
Rocky removed his jacket to reveal a bare torso. He folded it neatly in half lengthways and laid it on the counter.
“How much?” he asked.
The muscular man with a handlebar moustache picked the jacket up from the counter and stood up. “Twenty dollars,” he said, turning around to hunt for a spare coat hanger amongst the many full hangers on the rack behind him.
As he turned, Rocky noticed that not only was the man completely naked except for a pair of heavy leather work boots, but he had butt plug wedged between his arse cheeks. The round end of the black sex toy was clearly visible, and had Rocky’s cock straining against the fabric of his jeans. If this what the doorman was like, what pleasures awaited him on the other side of that wooden door? He reached into his pocket and found a crumpled twenty. He thrust it into the man’s hand, gave him a wink and pushed through the door into KUNT central.
At first it was difficult to see anything. The space behind the door was dark except for the intermittent flashing of bright lights that illuminated the clouds created by fog machines. Ghostly shapes moved through the haze and even though the pounding music filled Rocky’s ears, he could also hear the grunting of men fucking nearby, though unseen.
He walked along what appeared to be the main thoroughfare until he came to a corner. Turning it he came to a large, cavernous space at the centre of which was a large dance floor filled to capacity with naked and semi-naked men dancing to the beat of a heavy-duty dance track he’d never heard before. To his left was the bar, where men stood either in twos and threes chatting or by themselves with their backs to the counter, taking in the sights.
And there were many.