Addiction

Chapter 5
Paralyzer

5- I hold on so nervously

To me and my drink

I wish it was cooling me

But so far has not been good

It’s been shitty

And I feel awkward as I should

This club has got to be

The most pretentious thing

Since I thought you and me

Well, I am imagining

A dark lit place

For your place or my place

-Finger Eleven; “Paralyzer”

Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” bombarded Damien as he and Delilah walked through the doors of Eden. The base was so loud that the very air seemed to shake. This wasn’t just loud; it was nearly weaponized sound. Any other time, Damien might be nauseous from the very pulsing of the air. Now though, he was merely a pond feeling the ripples going through him.

To call this place big was an insult to the concept of “big”. It was just too much of an understatement, really. It would be a little like calling a giant a dwarf. The place was so wide on all sides that you had to squint and focus to spot the wall farthest from the doors. This place had to be described in blocks instead of feet, Damien would have guessed.

Damien’s group had definitely not been the first group to arrive, either. While it wasn’t crowded and there was plenty of room to walk around the floor, no place that Damien could perceive seemed empty either. There were pockets of people littering the floor, dancing with and for each other. Their bodies were illuminated in disco lights from the ceiling, changing their skins in the hues of green, red, blue, purple, yellow, and orange; just like the girls at the check in booths come to think of it. It was beautiful and slightly otherworldly.

To Damien, the scene reminded him of a kind of mating ritual. Granted, this type of behavior wasn’t uncommon in the clubs that Damien had been to, but something about the subtle (and not so subtle) differences made it seem more alien to him. Or maybe that was just the little red pill making his mind more inquisitive and excitable than it normally was.

A lone man or woman would be dancing by themselves, swinging their hips, and moving their arms to the beat of the music, and then a potential mate -same sex or opposite sex, it didn’t matter- would approach. They’d dance together for a few moments, talking with the language of their hips and their eyes – the voice didn’t carry too far over Depeche Mode’s rhythmic riffs- until finally they’d either drift apart, one not completely happy with the experience, or hold each other.

The air stank of sweat, various perfumes, and sex, and Damien loved every scent that wafted into his nostrils. It smelled primal. It smelled carnal. It smelled visceral. It smelled alive.

How in the world was this place so big? The enormity of it all was hard to comprehend. There was no way that all this space had been here before. They were deep enough to be in the sewers or the subway and Damien was surprised the ground didn’t shake from passing trains. For that matter, Damien hadn’t been able to hear a single note when he was in the locker room, but now each note literally made him feel as though he were trembling. Was this entire area sound proofed? Shouldn’t he be experiencing hearing loss by now? He didn’t see any speakers either, for that matter. Where was the music coming from? All of these questions were running through Damien’s mind when he felt a light squeeze on his hand.

He looked over and realized he was still holding on to the girl he’d met a few minutes ago hand. “Delilah,” she’d said her name was. That was a name that Levi had rattled off when speaking of the “newbies”. Like him, this was her first time, here at Eden, and as two virgins of the experience, they shakily held hands together and were adjusting and taking in the sights sounds smells and feelings that this strange little world had to offer.

Her gorgeous red hair hung down in curls past her shoulders and was swept back, doing nothing to conceal her breasts. Without thinking Damien’s eyes quickly snuck a look below her waist and yes, the carpet did match the drapes.

She stood a little taller right now, seeming less vulnerable than before. She looked more in her element now, more adjusted than Damien felt and less overwhelmed. She smiled coyly at him and he noticed her eyes drift down briefly to see what his downstairs looked like. He felt a pulsing of blood and warmth as his body responded and his manhood began to swell anew.

He looked at her tits, briefly considering whether he could get away with copping a feel right now. Only the contract’s mentioning of “blah, blah, strictly consensual blah, blah” reminded him to not give in completely to his newly stoked animal instincts. Innocence as an excuse for hedonism may have been a theme here, but the laws of man still applied, regardless.

She leaned in and gave him a hug, and Damien returned it. Oh, God in Heaven did she smell good. What fragrance was that? Or even more alluring, was she wearing any man made scent at all? Maybe this was just how the pretty girl smelled. He felt the softness of her breasts press into his chests and he hugged a little harder; his hips gyrating a bit. He let out an inaudible moan when he felt her breath on his face, but even though she shouted in his ears, it came out as barely a whisper.

“i’m good now” Damien heard her say. “thanks. i’ll save you a dance later.” She gave him a quick, kiss on the cheek and released him. Damien blushed like a fourteen year old who had just been kissed at homecoming, still slack-jawed, as she gave one final wave and then pranced away. He had literally had her hand-in-hand, and had somehow managed to be slow enough on the draw that he snatched defeat right out of the jaws of victory.

His pride a little wounded, Damien shrugged and made his way out onto the dance floor. The riffs of “Personal Jesus” faded away and were quickly replaced with the even heavier bass line of Pink Floyd’s “Money”.

“yeeaaah,” Damien heard himself say through the blaring cash register sound effects, turning his sulk into a strut. “Personal Jesus” had a kind of slow, sexy, lap dance groove to it. But this groove was meant for the prowlers, the people who hadn’t found what they were looking for and wanted to slink around.

Damien slinked through the dancers, the soles on his feet shaking with the bass guitar. “Bum, BUM buh-bum bum bum baaaa dum BUM buh-bum bum bum baaa dum.” As he advanced around the dance floor, a slick smile on his face and the eyes of a wolf, he took part in the mating ritual.

If he saw a girl he liked, he’d go up and dance with her. After a few moments, one or both of them would decide that this wasn’t a good fit, and they’d part ways, amicably enough. It was never with disgust, but just a kind of “meh”, followed by a polite smile, a nod and a wink; a wink that communicated “Nope…you keep hunting and I’ll do the same, but good luck.” Negative feelings, Damien found, had been reduced to “not quite right”, while positive feelings now skyrocketed to “BEST EVER” status.

That one girl, Delilah, had been “BEST EVER” before she went counterclockwise around the floor’s perimeter and he went clockwise. He’d yet to experience that again, but refused to give up hope.

All the time, Damien kept moving forward, deeper into Eden. Damien half-walked half danced his way around the black floor, looking for some action, looking to make a connection, however brief, with someone. The tunes went from slow grooves like “Money” to faster ones like “Give it Away,” and then to club classics like “I Want You Back,” and of course “All About that Bass.” The music selection was...a little varied to say the least, but it seemed the club was using its air vibrating super bass to its fullest effect.

He had approached a dozen and a half people over the course of half a dozen songs, and even had been approached himself, flatteringly enough, but nothing felt “right.” Nothing felt “BEST EVER” level to him, quite yet.

Damien was just starting to sulk, when he looked down towards his feet and realized the terrain was changing. He was clearly at the border of the dance floor’s black surface. About ten feet ahead, the black, disco lighted dance floor ended and changed into a clean white tiled floor with less severe white florescent lights above it. The words “PLAY AREA” were scrawled in black on the white tile. Behind him, Damien glanced the words “DANCE AREA” printed in white on black tile.

Tentatively, he crossed the line from black to white. The change was almost instant. That lively, sexual, visceral smell of sweat and sex still remained, but everything else in his senses let up. The air felt cooler here, and it didn’t vibrate with each note on the dance floor. Oddly enough, Damien noticed, the music had died down considerably. He could still hear the music, but it was far from blaring now. It was more ambiance than anything.

This must have been the cool down area, Damien reasoned. There seemed to be fewer people here, though it was still far from empty. But it was quieter and less frantic than the dance floor behind him. Even now, as he looked back over his shoulder he saw people grooving and grinding and swaying with each other as their bodies glistened all the hues of a techno-color rainbow.

Still feeling pretty good, and actually a little relieved now that the intensity of the dance floor was gone, Damien decided to continue his unguided tour of Eden. The first thing he noticed about this section were the walls. The walls seemed to be covered in thick, plush, carpeting, and Damien even spied some people petting the walls.

Actually, that looked kind of fun once he got over how strange it looked from the outside. His skin was still tingling and craving touch- more so now that he had developed a thin layer of sweat on the dance floor- and his hands twitched at the idea of being able to dig into and grab something with a little resistance. His intrigue was dampened a bit when he saw a few people actively humping the walls. They were either high, or desperate to get laid, or both.

The furry walls were divided up into patches, interrupted by plain white doors with electronic signs above them. There were rooms behind those doors, no doubt, and not just bathrooms. The signs flashed messages like “UNOCCUPIED”, or “OCCUPIED”, or “CLEANING”.

Damien took a right turn and strode past a sign hanging from the ceiling titled “Sensory and Exhibition Area.” He came upon rows upon rows of cages, or rather, wooden pens. Wooden bars and wooden gates encircled what appeared to be foam padding. It rather looked like a child’s play pen, actually. They were even filled with various children’s toys. They had scanners and prices on them, too.

“FURRY AND PLUSHY”, a sign on one of the pens filled with stuffed animals read. “HARD AND SMOOTH” a pen loaded with stacking blocks proclaimed. “GOOEY AND STICKY” announced another that had jars silly putty. All of them charged at least twenty dollars to unlock.

Damien peered in on some of the pens saw naked people playing with teddy bears and wooden blocks and Play-Doh with pure delight and fascination in their eyes. There was even one with a grown woman playing in a sand box with the happiest smile on her face. Damien wanted to judge them and pull back in revulsion, but found himself slightly jealous of their happiness. They were so tripped out, probably having taken more than one of the little red pills that Levi peddled and now were being amused by the most basic sensory input. Still, he was at least slightly tempted to try it out.

Deeper into to the “PLAY AREA,” Damien came upon several pens with people clustered around them like patrons at a zoo. Damien got a better look at one of the pens and saw that the foam floor had been replaced with a triple king-size mattress.

Inside, four people rutted and writhed, moaning about in pleasure as they slid into and inside each other. The onlookers weren’t just looking either. The men and women gathered around the pen were all rubbing themselves, masturbating to the show given to them. One of the participants in the cage crawled over and took a man’s cock inside their mouth through the bars. Another stood up and hunched over to accept a woman on the outside’s nipple.

Damien felt himself grow hard again and eyed the price on the gate’s scanner. He scowled. A hundred bucks to fuck and suck so that other people could beat off in front of you? There was nothing innocent about that. That was robbery. Still, maybe he could come back later and try his luck through the bars for free.

He continued walking until the floor once again changed from white to a deep red. The lettering on the floor said “FOOD AREA”, and now Damien’s nose was greeted with the smell of cooking meat and booze in addition to sweat and sex.

Damien looked to his right and saw the black border of the dance floor, which had never left his sight completely during his exploration of the play area. Since Damien could make out a wall marking the outer border of the club, he reckoned that the ratio was fifty percent dance floor, with the play area and the food area each taking up their own quarter of the floor space.

This floor was populated by bars, which manned by people in gorilla costumes of all things. There were no stools or chairs, but there were definitely people drinking, leaning on the counter as gorillas poured their drinks. Damien nodded his head. This was more his speed at the moment. He might not be having much luck with the ladies right this second, and he might not be ready to play with kiddie toys or fuck a stranger in front of an audience, but he could certainly drink himself into a good time.

“What’ll it be?” a gorilla bartender asked Damien as he leaned up against the nearest bar.

“Holy crap!” Damien gasped. “I didn’t expect your lips to move.”

“You know any other way to talk?” the gorilla bellowed.

“No, just…wow. That’s a really nice costume you got on there.”

The gorilla looked down and then pointed to its neck. “It’s just a bowtie.”

“No, no..I mean the gorilla thing. Hey…what’s a gorilla doing in the Garden of Eden anyways? I don’t remember reading about gorillas in Eden.”

“Were you there?” the gorilla asked accusingly.

“No.”

“Then, what you’re saying is, you’re going off of second hand information.”

Man, this guy was in character. No point in trying to break him.

“Gimme your cheapest drink that ain’t water,” Damien ordered.

The gorilla took out a scanner from underneath the bar. “Wrist,” he ordered. Damien stuck his hand forward and the heard a beeping noise as the gorilla scanned the barcode on his snake bracelet. The big ape in the bow tie withdrew a glass with some amber colored liquid from a bottle and poured it in. Then he scooped some ice in and slid it over to Damien.

Damien picked the glass up and tossed the contents back with gusto. It tasted like lightning in a glass. Every neuron fired up as the stuff in the glass went down his esophagus and into his belly. From there, he imagined he could feel his veins cooling down, yet feeling re-energized all the same. And it was so smooth, Damien didn’t even taste the burn.

“’Nuther,” Damien ordered, slamming the glass down and grinning with glee. “And make it a double.”

“I don’t do free refills,” the gorilla replied. Damien shoved his wrist forward and allowed it to be scanned again. The bartender slid forward a taller glass filled with even more of the strange, delicious drink. Greedily, Damien gulped it down, thrilling at the feeling of the stuff sliding down his throat.

“This is great!” Damien yelled excitedly. “What is this stuff?”

“Apple juice,” the gorilla informed him.

“You mean, like cider?” Damien asked, seeking clarification.

“Nope. Plain apple juice.” The gorilla smirked at him. That fucking smug ape smirked at him!

“There you are,” he heard a voice call out to him. Damien whipped his head around and came face to face with the one girl he’d been thinking about in some capacity or another all night.

“Hey there,” Damien said, suddenly blushing.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Delilah said, one hand on her hip, the other on the bar. “Damien, right?”

“Looking…looking for me? Why?” Damien inquired.

“Because I had wanted you to chase after me, silly. I still owe you that dance.”

“Oh…I thought…I just thought…” Damien stammered like a dumb school boy.

“Such a gentleman,” she smiled. “And you’re blushing. I don’t get that a lot. It’s actually one of the reasons I came here…to make somebody cute blush, I mean. I’m not really looking for a gentleman tonight.” She winked at him. “Do you still want to dance or something?”

“Would I?” Damien beamed. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Was it love at first sight? No. Probably not. Attraction, yeah. Maybe even some chemistry beyond the Re-Lease in his

body. But whatever it was, it felt good; kind of like a type of puppy love or first crush from days long ago.

Delilah reached for his hand and began to drag him towards the black floors of the “DANCE AREA”. Looking at her backside, his libido flared up. A little voice inside of him told him he might not get this opportunity again tonight, and he was not in the mood for dancing right now. Dancing was foreplay. Enough foreplay.

Damien dug his heels in and tugged back. Delilah turned around and looked at him. “What’s up?” she asked.

“How about we do something besides dance?” Damien asked. He felt her dainty hands grab the shaft of his cock and squeeze a little bit.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

He thought about the private rooms in the “PLAY AREA”, and smiled.

“Follow me.”