Club Rendezvous

Under the starry night, the bright neon lights of Club Rendezvous flicker enticingly, casting hypnotic glows that dance playfully on the surrounding buildings.  Loud music can be heard all the way down the street.  The thumping bass pulses in the hearts of all of the attending people as the air in and outside of the club carries the tinge of vice with it.  The line out of the club wraps around the block and extends even further up the street.  The night is young and the prospects of people are plenty.  Noticeably, most of the patrons of the club are dressed in flashy and revealing clothes.

“Don’t go too crazy in there,” Ben warns, watching the many patrons of Club Rendezvous.

“Can’t guarantee anything.  But you know I can handle my own if it comes down to it,” Wilbur responds, unbuckling his seatbelt.  He readjusts his sheer tank top and tight-fitting shorts.

“There’s an officer on standby at all times if you need backup. If this place is as wild as they say, you’ll need to watch your back at all times,” Ben says, his tone similar to that of a concerned parent.

“I know, I’ll be okay Ben,” Wilbur chuckles a bit, he opens the door and closes it.  He leans down and says, “You know you’ll be the first person to know if something were to happen.”

“I do, I just worry.  This is a pretty risky position you’re putting yourself in.  Although, they should be fearing you if anything,” Ben responds with a deep sigh.

Wilbur smiles.  “Exactly.  I’ll be turning this place upside down.  I’ll get to the bottom of this case.”

Wilbur waves Ben farewell and starts walking toward the club.  As he approaches the entrance, Wilbur sees the bouncers eyeing him warily.  With a casual nod, he flashes his badge, and the bouncers step aside without a word.  The detective’s sharp eyes took in every detail of the club’s interior facade–the discreet signage, the dark tinted windows, and the faint scent of perfume and musk hanging in the air like a seductive promise.

Steeling himself for the night, Wilbur takes in a deep breath and steps into the club.  Almost immediately, he’s engulfed by a wave of heat and noise.  Blinding lights flash on dancing bodies, every single person looking like an amalgamation of a mass of shadows writhing in neon halos.

Wilbur’s keen senses are on high alert as he weaves and pushes his way through the crowded dance floor.  He’s on the lookout to find any people that match the descriptions from the witness reports that have come in.  

As he ascends up the staircase to the upper levels of Club Rendezvous, Wilbur can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation and caution.  The upper floors are perfect for those who want just a little bit a quiet away from the dance floor to converse or engage in displays of hedonism.  However, there are plenty of people lining up all around the railings, moving to the beat and indulging themselves in carefree bliss.

Branching away are the pleasure rooms specifically designated and designed for patrons to indulge in their hedonistic acts.  The corridors are filled with echoes of moans and whispers that are nearly drowned out by the music.  Wilbur knows he has a room specifically saved just for him after convincing Darin earlier in the day.

Wilbur’s sharp eyes take in all of the people that he’s seeing.  Joyous men, women, and people of all sorts.  He walks back down after getting a good idea of the type of people within the club.  His initial surveying of the club comes up less than fruitful, but the night is still young.  Some friendlier patrons approach Wilbur to dance or talk when he steps foot on the dance floor.  Although Wilbur may agree to some extent, he doesn’t remain with one person for too long.

He migrates over to the crowded bar, managing to snake his way all the way to the front of the bar.  Although he isn’t particularly needing a drink, he’s wanting to see if anyone at the bar matches any descriptions he’s read.  As he quickly scans up and down the bar he does find a strong guy with artificial tan skin wearing an open club shirt.  Contrasting his tan skin especially is his bleach blonde hair.  Dangling off of his neck are several chain necklaces, one in particular has a dazzling iridescent gemstone embedded into it.  He’s talking to a young woman next to him, his hands grabbing for her waist despite her attempts to push it away.

This man was described in one of the witness reports having been the last person a missing woman was seen with.  The description matches the man accurately.  Wilbur recalls that the witness report says that there’s a man named Zane who was described to have very tan skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a large build.  This man has to be Zane.

Wilbur gradually snakes his way along the bar to get closer.  He hones in on his senses to listen to their conversation the best he can.

The man sleazily purrs, “C’mon babe!  Let’s go somewhere more private.  I’ve got a room upstairs with our names on it.”

“S-stop Zane…” the woman whispers.  The young woman hesitates, a nervous smile plays at the corner of her lips transforming into more of a grimace.  Wilbur observes the exchange carefully, taking note of her apprehensive body language and the way Zane's hands linger on her hip.  Zane’s predatory eyes gaze at the woman as he smirks widely.

Now, Wilbur normally wouldn’t let a lady be uncomfortable like this.  However, he’s needing the perfect opportunity to swoop in to talk to Zane one-on-one.  Unfortunately, it’ll be at the expense of temporary discomfort for the young woman.

In one simple motion, Zane grabs both sides of the woman’s waist and pushes her lower back up against the bar.  He presses his entire body against hers, kissing the woman’s neck while simultaneously eyeing the two alcoholic drinks that slide before him.  Wilbur knows exactly what’s about to happen.  As discreetly as he can, Zane drops in a fizzing capsule into one of the drinks.

This is where Wilbur needs to intervene, even if it costs him the visual of his pride.

Zane grabs both drinks and backs away from the young woman.  He presents the one that he had drugged to the woman and clinks their glasses together.  He loudly says, “Drink up!”

Though hesitant, the woman raises the drink up to her lips.  Wilbur pretends to fumble and crashes into Zane and the young woman.  They spill their drinks all over the floor and onto Wilbur.  This causes quite the commotion and everyone nearby notices.

Zane slams his glass on the bar counter and yells at Wilbur.  “WHAT THE FUCK!?  Watch where you’re going, Chinaman!”

Wilbur stands up and brushes himself and Zane’s words off, but can feel the alcohol dripping down his chest.  He fixes his glasses and tries to straighten himself out.  Wilbur presents himself well, acting as clueless or clumsy as he possibly can.  He rubs the back of his head and laughs with a wide smile, “Sorry man!  Had one too many!”

Zane steps toward Wilbur, looking down at the detective and trying to push the detective with his whole chest.  “You owe me a drink, asshole!”  Zane growls, his voice dripping with hostility.  Wilbur stands his ground, his dark eyes gleaming with a hint of danger as he meets Zane’s gaze head-on.

The young woman pulls at Zane’s wrist and says, “H-hey Zane, it’s okay.  They’re just drinks.”

“Yeah bro, they’re just drinks.  I can get you another one,” Wilbur comments coolly, his voice low and steady.  He flashes a grin at Zane which only provokes Zane to be more aggressive and angry.  Veins pop up on Zane’s forehead as his complexion turns slightly red.

Zane tries to push Wilbur again with his chest, but Wilbur remains still and steady.  Wilbur’s eyes glance up and down Zane, the detective stifling the joy in his mind as he sees Zane attempt an even harder push.

“What the hell?” Zane mutters.

“Come on Zane, let’s go,” the young woman says, pulling on his wrist.

Before being dragged away by the young woman, Zane leans close to Wilbur, baring his fangs, and threatens the detective, “You better watch your back!”

Zane hastily moves away from the bar with the young woman.  Wilbur watches them move through the crowd.  Wilbur starts trailing them after a few seconds, following them up the stairs and walking through the dimly lit corridors lined up with doors.  Wilbur knows that Zane brought the young woman into one of the rooms and he has to figure out which one.

Wilbur steps slowly through the corridor of pleasures.  He hones in on his hearing to specifically try to listen out for Zane and the young woman.  Some of the doors are cracked open to allow Wilbur to see flashes of flesh and leather.  The sound of cracking whips get more and more pertinent the further Wilbur walks down the hallway.

Stopping him in his tracks is when he can hear a familiar voice scream from behind the door, “Stop Zane!  Please stop!”

Wilbur steps closer to the door, hearing the voices get louder from behind the door.  The door is locked and while he could take the time to pick the lock, Wilbur can’t just let a lady be in danger like this.  Drawing in a deep breath, Wilbur channels all of his strength he can currently muster and kicks the door in.

Inside, Zane and the young woman are startled to see the door swinging wide open.  The room is bathed in dimly lit red light.  Lining up all along the walls are ropes, chains, paddles, cuffs, and a plethora of sex toys.  Adorned throughout the room are benches and chairs with specific designs for sex.  Hanging off of the ceiling is a slightly swinging sex swing.

Zane has pinned the young woman on the bed, his larger stature overpowering the woman.  For a brief moment Wilbur can see Zane’s visage distort into something monstrous.  The two look at Wilbur who storms into the room without warning.  Immediately, Zane spits out, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Chinaman?”  The rage within him contorts his features.  Zane immediately climbs off of the bed and stomps over to Wilbur.

Wilbur doesn’t flinch, remaining scarily calm, his gaze unwavering as he stands still and imposing in the doorway.  Wilbur briefly makes eye contact with the young woman, seeing her frightened yet grateful eyes, and gives her a nod.  She quickly gets off the bed and scrambles out of the room.

“You think you’re tough?” Zane questions, stepping up closer and closer to Wilbur, looking down at the detective.  “You’re just asking for a beating aren’t you?”

Wilbur remains calm and silent.  However, the devilish smirk that forms on his face is more than enough to push Zane over the edge.  Zane’s brows furrow with fury, he raises a fist and throws a punch toward Wilbur’s face.

Anticipating the punch, Wilbur dodges.  Anticipating another, Wilbur dodges again.  Almost like a delicate dance around the room, Wilbur evades and dodges Zane’s assault which only makes Zane more and more angry.  Subsequent punches are sloppy as they’re filled with the emotion of rage rather than with the calm composure of a tactical mind.

“Stop fucking moving!” Zane says, frustrated.  His balled fists tremble with anger.

Wilbur grabs one of the many bundles of rope on the wall.  Using Zane’s telegraphed attacks to his advantage, Wilbur wraps the rope around one wrist, then the other.  With fluid and expert movements, Wilbur knees Zane in the stomach.  Zane lets out a pained yelp as all of the air gets ejected out of his throat.

Zane slumps to the ground which gives Wilbur the perfect opportunity to tie Zane’s wrists together behind his back.  Zane’s breaths are labored as he’s coughing a bit.  Wilbur kneels down and grabs Zane by the chain necklaces.

Wilbur yanks upward on Zane’s necklaces, forcing Zane to look at the detective.  Wilbur slaps Zane’s cheek a bit and says, “I thought you would have put up more of a fight.  A bit disappointing.”

“Wh-what?” Zane manages to say.

Wilbur ignores Zane’s mumbling and asks, “What do you know about the disappearances that have been happening here?  Reports say you were the last person to have been seen with Sierra Russo, Jennaly Simone, Teresa Danvers, and Mari Kanehara.”

“Who…are you?” Zane questions.

Wilbur smacks Zane’s cheek hard, leaving a bright red handprint.  “I’m asking the questions here.  Where are they?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zane murmurs.

“Is that so?” Wilbur lets out a harsh sigh, he yanks on the necklaces even harder, squeezing them tightly.

“S-stop!  Don’t!” Zane cries out.

Wilbur can see Zane’s face alter and change into a monstrous form.  Blemishes lineup all along Zane’s broader nose, tusk-like bottom teeth jut up from Zane’s lower lip.  Almost like a glitch, Zane’s complexion changes from the artificial tan to a dark grayish-green.  Zane’s eyes blink in and out from being bright blue and a dull yellow, his bleached hair transitioning to its bright saturation to a dark moss color.  The entirety of Zane’s body blinks back and forth between the human musculature to a large robust and rotund body.

Wilbur opens his palm to see himself clutching onto the gem encrusted necklace, the iridescent gemstone shimmers from green to violet and Wilbur knows it's an alexandrite gem.  He squeezes the gem again and can see Zane’s whole body altering before his eyes as the illusion of glamor is in his grasp.

“Well then, what do we have here?  An ogre wearing a glamor pendant.  Who gave you this pendant?” Wilbur inquires, carefully watching Zane alter back and forth between forms.

Zane swallows hard.  “H-human scum!”

“Now that I know your little secret here, maybe it would be in your best interest to tell me what happened to those ladies that were last seen with you,” Wilbur remarks, his eyes looking into Zane’s with scary intensity.

“I-I’m not telling you anything!  You don’t know what you’re getting into!” Zane yells.

Wilbur sighs.  “Fine, if you’re not going to tell me then let me put your mouth to good use since you love using it so much.”

Wilbur stands up, grasping Zane’s hair.  He rubs Zane’s face all along his crotch, making Zane feel his large cock bulging from the shorts that can barely contain him.  Zane limply tries to protest, but is ultimately under the mercy of Wilbur.  With his free hand, Wilbur unzips his shorts, his massive cock springs out and smacks Zane’s face.  Zane goes cross-eyed trying to comprehend the behemoth of a cock on his face, especially coming from a human.

“Don’t just stare at it, suck it,” Wilbur commands.

“Wh-what?” Zane mumbles.

Wilbur repeats in a stern tone, “Suck it.”

Hesitation courses through Zane’s body, however he licks his lips out of curiosity.  He widens his mouth to take in as much of Wilbur’s massive cock as he can.  Wilbur holds Zane’s head, controlling the movement and pace.  Zane’s current form may be an illusion, but that doesn’t deter Wilbur from trying to make a suspect confess.

It isn’t before long until Wilbur forces his length further into Zane’s mouth, hitting the back of Zane’s throat.  Immediately, Zane’s eyes water and he gags as he tries to breathe through his nose.  However, Wilbur’s grip is far too tight.  The more Zane tries to retreat away, the harder Wilbur holds Zane closer.

“Who said you could take your mouth off?  Choke on it.” Wilbur growls, gripping Zane even tighter.  The wet squelches and sloshes of Wilbur impaling his cock into Zane’s throat echoes through the room, leaving Zane to roll his eyes back as he can feel his senses being overtaken by the need to devour Wilbur’s cock.

Zane gags uncontrollably, his throat unable to handle Wilbur.  Not even Zane’s true form as a big ogre is able to handle the detective.  His face turns purple, a mixture of saliva and precum runs down the edges of his lips.  This more powerless position is foreign to Zane, and is oddly arousing, making his own cock twitch.

Wilbur takes his cock out of Zane’s mouth, making the ogre whimper a bit and lean forward for more.  Wilbur whistles, commenting, “Look who’s a hungry boy now.  Can’t get enough of this human cock?”

“M-more please!” Zane begs.

“I’ll give you more if you’ll be a good boy and tell me where those women went,” Wilbur says, trying to negotiate.

“Sir please, I want your cock again,” Zane whimpers, trying his best to scoot himself forward toward Wilbur.

Wilbur tightly grips Zane’s hair and pulls it.  Wilbur forces Zane to look into his eyes as he asks, “If you want more then you’d tell me where those women went.”

“I-I’m just a recruiter!  I bring them to Lucius!”

“Who’s Lucius and what does he do?” Wilbur asks skeptically.

“He’s a collector!  He likes gathering several women and makes them into his playthings!” Zane answers quickly.

Wilbur’s eyes narrow a bit.  Wilbur knew that this case of missing people wasn’t going to be a simple case to be solved.  Knowing Zane’s true face and the operations of this said Lucius hints to a larger scheme; could it be a case of human trafficking or siphoning glamor or perhaps both?

Zane wriggles around in Wilbur’s clutches and whimpers, “Sir, please, I told you everything I can.  Can I please have your cock?”

Wilbur shakes his head.  He stuffs his hard, wet cock into his tight shorts that stretch and bulge painfully.  Zane watches with watery eyes.  Wilbur says, “You were a good boy to tell me, but a bad boy for being in shady shit.  A bad boy deserves punishment.”

Wilbur drags Zane over to the bed and throws the ogre onto it.  He pulls down Zane’s pants to reveal the glamorized bubble butt that is far paler by comparison to the rest of the artificial tan complexion.  Finding a pair of dark latex gloves, Wilbur snaps the gloves on and pours a generous amount of lube on his fingers.  Now with his gloved fingers lathered with the slick and wet fluids, he’s ready to show Zane what happens under his touch.  His finger dances around the rim of Zane’s tight pink hole.  The coldness of the lube sends shivers up Zane’s spine, the anticipation building within the ogre for what’s to happen.

Wilbur slides a finger into Zane’s hole, immediately making the ogre moan out loud and arching his back.  Wiblur smirks, pleased with the reaction, he can feel the tightness of Zane’s hole gripping onto his finger like a vice.  He slowly pumps his finger in and out, teasing the ogre more and more.

Zane writhes under Wilbur’s touch, his mind a chaotic mix of pleasure and strangeness.  He wants more of Wilbur’s expert touch, knowing he is at the detective’s mercy.

Wilbur slides another finger in, Zane gasps, his body shaking with the sensation.  The exposure of Zane’s ass is so foreign to the ogre that he continues to shiver with excitement, anticipation, and pleasure.  Wilbur parts his fingers inside of Zane, stretching the ogre’s tight hole out.  The detective then curves his fingers and massages Zane’s prostate with skillful precision.  His movements are slow and rhythmic all to make Zane feel comfortable.

Zane’s eyes roll back as the sensations intensify, his breathing becoming shallower and faster.  Wilbur slides a third finger in, making Zane moan louder.  Zane is being tortured with pleasure as Wilbur skillfully twists and manipulates his fingers.  Zane’s body trembles, a deep desire for Wilbur growing by the second.

Wilbur twists and wedges in a fourth finger, stretching Zane out to his limit.  Zane, unsure whether he's feeling pleasure or pain, moans regardless of what Wilbur is doing.  A deep hunger for more flares up within Zane's body, something that Wilbur can easily see.

“Sir, please, I need more,” Zane pleads, his voice hoarse from all of the moaning.  Zane slowly turns his head, his face flushed bright red and eyes of desperation gazing at Wilbur.

A wicked grin forms on Wilbur’s face, he withdraws his fingers, leaving Zane’s hole gaping and yearning for more. The detective takes this opportunity to pour a more than generous amount of lube all over his hand.

“Sir…please…your cock…I want to feel it!” Zane begs, drool dripping out of the edges of his lips.

Wilbur tsks, saying, “Only good boys deserve my cock.  You’ve been a bad boy.  So bad boys get my fist.”

Before Zane could fully process what Wilbur had just said, Wilbur plunges his fist into Zane.  The entirety of Zane’s body trembles and shakes from the sudden force and size of Wilbur’s fist burying into his tight hole.  Zane pants, unable to really process what is happening aside from the painful pleasure that’s overtaking him.

Wilbur slides more and more of his fist into Zane, every inch becoming more painful than the last as Zane tries to acclimate.  The tightness of Zane’s tunnel wraps around Wilbur’s wrist, overwhelmed by the sensation of being stretched out.  Gradually, Zane submits to Wilbur’s fist slowly softening the tight clench of his ass.

Wilbur senses Zane’s surrender and no longer holds back.  He pumps his fist in and out of the ogre’s ass, his knuckles slapping against the soft, vulnerable flesh with a cruel and delicious rhythm.  Wilbur’s muscles bulge and tighten as he buries his fist harder and harder into the ogre.

Reaching around with a gloved hand, Wilbur grabs a hold of Zane’s hard and swinging cock.  Zane howls in pleasure feeling his ass and cock simultaneously stimulated.  Zane writhes around in the rope restraints, his body rocking back and forth wanting to take more of Wilbur’s fist, but also to thrust into Wilbur’s grasp.

Every subsequent punch inside Zane’s ass and every stroke Wilbur makes on Zane’s cock makes Zane’s climax build faster and faster.  Zane thrashes his head back and forth on the bed, howling as the sensations are becoming so overwhelming that they’re painful.  Wilbur does not relent in the slightest, going even harder and faster to send the ogre over the edge.

“SIR I’M CUMMING!” Zane screams.

Wilbur can feel the cum course through Zane’s cock and the eruption of cum soaks the bed sheets.  Wilbur punches out every squirt of cum that the ogre has to offer.  Leaving Zane a heaving mess in a puddle of his cum, Wilbur slides his fist out of Zane and promptly discards the used gloves.  Zane is in a dizzying and dazed state with no thoughts running through his mind.  Unable to really see in a blurry daze, Zane doesn't even notice that Wilbur snaps the pendant off of his necklace, leaving Zane in his natural ogre form.

Without much else that the ogre has to offer in terms of information, Wilbur leaves the room in hopes to make more revelations of the operations of Club Rendezvous.  With Zane confirming that supernatural threats are present, he'll have to be even more vigilant for the investigation ahead.  But first, calling in some backup to help get Zane out of the club discreetly.