This week there are two brand new books coming out from A Thia Thing. Both are featured on today’s #CSSundays posts. The 2nd is:
Author: Thianna Durston
Release Date: 1 September, 2018
How was he to know that the club where he finds complete and utter acceptance is the home he has to betray?
Sior is at his wits end. Nobody will hire him due to extreme anxiety attacks and he needs a job. When he is offered a position as a junior private investigator, he grabs at the only possibility in front of him. He has to infiltrate QinQ, a gay BDSM club, bring back proof of illegal activities, and he’s guaranteed a job.
It sounds simple enough. Only he’s straight and he has no clue what BDSM is.
Even worse, he finds things about himself at QinQ that he never knew. The more he begins to understand about him, the more he fears what he might find out about the club. And yet he has to find the evidence or lose his job.
With time running out, he makes a decision, a decision that may cost him everything he holds dear.
Excerpt: (this is from chapter 3)
The next morning he was as over his anxiety attack as he was likely to get. He grabbed the folder and opened it up. There was surprisingly little known about the club QinQ. It was run by three men: Shane Oberon, Tal Stellings, and Conner Kelp, all gay BDSM lifestylers, or so they claimed. Included with the paperwork was their known worth. Together they were worth more than a hundred million dollars. While their occupations before opening the club were professional, nothing that would have given them those kinds of numbers. Sior could see where Burch would suspect something illegal. Stellings was friends with owners of thirteen of the other clubs under investigation. Kelp was friends with ten of them. Oberon was the only one with no ties—that they’d been able to dig up—to any of the other clubs.
QinQ had been open for four and a half years and while there wasn’t a listing of their members, their roster was listed at around a hundred men.
Given where it was, in the middle of a conservative area of Washington State, Sior could imagine a gay BDSM club was something of a thorn in the local government’s side. And yet there were no legal battles, no raids. Nothing to suggest a problem. That, in and of itself, was fishy. He wondered if the club was paying off the local police.
A large color image that captured the three owners was the last item in the folder. He stared at it, catching as many details as his eyes could spot and confirming them to memory. Shane Oberon, age thirty-eight, Native American, Yakima Nation, short black hair, dark gray eyes, muscular without looking like he’d taken steroids. In fact, none of them looked hepped up on anything, though all were built. Tal Stellings, age forty-one, was of mixed heritage—black and perhaps Asian if Sior read his facial features correctly—shoulder length black hair, dark eyes, and a hard expression that reminded Sior of one of the generals he’d met in the Corps. The last was Conner Kelp, age thirty-nine; he was Caucasian with blue eyes and dishwater blond hair. He was the only one who smiled into the camera. They were a formidable trio. Sior grimaced, wondering about the men who went there to do… whatever they did in kinky clubs.
Knowing how little he knew of BDSM—basically that it was some sort of sexual perversion—he put the folder aside and grabbed his laptop. The thing was old. He’d bought it his junior year in high school. But it still ran, clunky as it was. Thankfully his mother had given him the access code to their Wi-Fi, so he logged into the internet. His first move was to look up BDSM. There were millions of responses, but he chose a couple that looked as though they might be informational in nature.
One of the things he’d always been good at was sucking up vast amounts of information quickly. Within a couple hours, he had the basics down. It sounded as though it was far more complex than he’d imagined. And a lot sicker. Whipping? Caning? Gang rape? Being peed on? He gawked at the lists and lists of activities he found. “What the fuck?” he said, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he continued to search through the list. “That’s just sick.” He glanced at the three men in the photo. They looked the type who would force some guy to do those kinds of things. “Sick bastards. I’ll get the info so Burch can take them down.”
Knowing he needed as much information as he could get, he looked up gay BDSM porn. Surely those sick fuckers would display their perversions on the dark web. He clicked on a video titled Fisting My Boy and waited. The scene entered on a big man with rolls of skin-covered fat wearing thick pieces of leather commanding some thin guy to lie down on a bench. The dialog was classic stupid porn. Once he was down, the big guy wrapped restraints around his wrists and ankles. Ah, they have to tie them down to do it. His thoughts were derailed and a cry of horror left his lips when the big guy dipped his fist in a vat of clear liquid and punched it up the other man’s ass. The thin guy cried out but the big guy told him to take it and did it again and again. Before he could continue, Sior backed out of the video and tried to get a grip on himself. That was horrific.
Anxiety beat in the back of his mind and he took huge gulps of air to keep it at bay. “No wonder Burch wants to take the club down. That’s awful. That poor guy.”
He lay down on his mat for almost an hour before he was sure his anxiety was settled enough that he could continue. The next two videos he found weren’t as violent, though they were denigrating. He didn’t watch much of them, wanting to get an overview so he knew what he would be seeing once he reached the club. If he gawked or threw up the moment he walked in the door, nobody would believe he wanted to be there.
For over two hours, he watched the sickness that was BDSM. When he was about ready to quit and just force himself to do his job, his eyes landed on a video title. Cock Worship. He blinked at it, wondering how bad it could be. Deciding it would be his final video, he clicked on the link. Unlike the rest, it was not a professional video. The lighting was bad and there wasn’t any canny dialog. A man in a nice business suit sat in a chair. Seated across from him was another man similarly dressed.
“You’ve been a good boy,” the first man said. “A very good boy.” Sior might have been wrong, but he could have sworn the other man whimpered. “You deserve a reward. Honor my cock, but you cannot take it in your mouth.” What followed kept Sior glued to the screen.
The other man dropped to his knees and quickly unzipped the first man’s pants. He pulled out his dick which was semi-hard. He dipped his nose into the crease between cock and balls and inhaled. For the next twelve minutes and thirty-two seconds, he licked, nibbled and showed more love for the first man’s cock than Sior had ever imagined possible. And the first man didn’t put him down. He praised him, petted his head, moaned, and made encouraging sounds. When the first man said, “Sit back. I want you to wear my cum,” Sior moaned. The second man sat back on his heels and straightened his spine proudly. Sior couldn’t move, waiting to see what happened next. The moment the spatters of cum met his face, Sior gasped.
How had he not noticed how hard he’d become? His cock thrummed, his entire groin ached. He practically dropped the computer in his haste to unzip his jeans and pull out his aching shaft. One tug. Two. And he was done, moaning out his appreciation while the second man thanked the first man over and over for letting him serve.
When he’d gasped out the last bit of his orgasm, he slammed the top of the laptop down. That had not turned him on. It had just been a long time since he’d been laid. Besides, watching someone lick and worship another guy’s cock would turn anyone on. “I wouldn’t mind someone doing that to me,” he said with a chuckle. He didn’t pay attention to the other thought going on in his head, the one that wondered what it would be like to be the second guy.
About the author:
She lives in the Pacific Northwest, though her heart belongs elsewhere. In the meantime, until she can return to the place she calls home, she happily lives in a city that still thinks it’s a small town. Thankfully, it has given her muse lots of amusing places to start a story.
Find Thianna online: