Broken: Scene 01 v1.1

“Moths to a flame.”

The words were murmured softly, escaping from the full mouth of a man sitting in a booth by himself, as he looked on upon the scene just a short distance in front of him. So few participants he recognized, it made him queasy; perhaps because he couldn’t understand what attracted these moths to such a nearly dead flame. There were more and more new faces in the club. The longer he stayed, the stronger his uneasiness grew. Of course, it meant extra work and money, but he didn’t care for it. It felt like money gained in filthy ways.

How many of those young faces that weren’t yet adults — under seventeen who should have been at home, in bed and asleep — had he fixed already? He may have once been part of the crowd he was now watching, but it certainly didn’t mean that he had behaved as they did.

Sung had been in the business for some years now; he knew what he was doing — unlike the new crowd that was making him richer while simultaneously making him lose his mind. It wasn’t right that so many kids found their way into these clubs. There had been a time when this place could only be entered with an invitation, when only those who knew what they were doing could step in.

What had happened?

Breathing a soft sigh of irritation, Sung brushed a hand through his dark hair. He leaned back and turned his gaze to the scene between a vaguely balding, slightly obese man he knew more than he wanted to and his catch for the night. The man, a foreigner — Sung thought his name might have been Turner — had yet another new boy at his side. This was the fourth one in just as many days. Sung already had had to take care of the others after Turner had gotten so rough the kids had stopped responding in the middle of their playtime.

“The man needs to learn the meaning of a safe word.” Another soft sigh and Sung moved back to his feet, unable to bring himself to watch the scene unfold. Turner didn’t know his limits, nor did he know those of his boys. It was heartbreaking and Sung knew that he would likely be seeing that very boy on his doorstep in the morning with Turner’s eyes full of confusion and begging for the boy to be fixed.

Sung didn’t know if he really wanted to leave or not; the boy was something pretty with unusual green eyes. He was feminine enough that when he had first seen them step into the club, Sung thought Turner had brought in a girl by mistake however, now that the boy was naked, it was rather evident that there was no way he could have been a girl.

Even if he stayed, there was nothing he could do. While at first this club had been known for its grandeur, for its well-set rules for the protection of both parties, it had turned into a seedy hole when the new owners had taken over. Sung didn’t know why he stayed anymore. There was no longer any dungeon master who could interfere in a play should one go beyond partner’s limits. Gone were most all of the rules. The only rule that now stood in for all that once was, was that once someone enticed another into play, no one else was to step in. Whether there was a safe word or not, what happened between the pair was theirs to decide and the club could not be sued if something went wrong.

“I need to find a new club.” Exasperated, irritated and so many other things, Sung gathered his coat, pondered leaving a tip for the boy who had been waiting on him — but decided not to; it hadn’t been worth it — and he stepped outside.

The night air was cold, bitterly so, and he tightened his scarf about his neck. It wouldn’t do to get sick now. Especially if Turner was going to bring that boy to him in the morning.

He really should turn the man in at this point; this was three boys he had brought in — three boys hurt, broken and unresponsive. A discussion with any self-respecting Dom who had the reverence of the community would bring up the simple fact that if a man couldn’t properly take care of his subs, couldn’t be bothered to set up a safe word from the start and respect it, he wasn’t in his place as a Dom, or in the community.

Sung decided that a walk, despite how cold it was, would do him some good. It would clear his mind better than any amount of sleep would, he was dressed warmly enough. There would be no more booze tonight if there was some hope of a clear head to be had in the morning.

Mussing his hair again, lightly, he stepped onto the sidewalk, watching his step as he headed back to his apartment. It was a long walk but he’d get there.

Several times on the way, Sung’s foot slipped on the ice that paved the sidewalks. A fine layer of snow had fallen these past few days, and then, out of the blue, the weather had grown unusually warm and it had rained. But then the wet snow had frozen over, making the streets and sidewalks dangerous.

Only once during that walk did his foot slip enough that he went sprawling, a soft hiss escaping those full lips as he tested his ankle and breathed a sigh. It seemed as if the night was not in his favor, but he was close enough to his apartment that a little hurt wouldn’t stop him.

Getting back to his feet, Sung half-limped back to his apartment and let himself in, dropping his keys by the door, and hobbling toward his bedroom. He had never really spared more than a moment’s thought on why he kept his first aid kit in his bedroom, but now it seemed to make sense. Part of him wanted to collapse on his bed once he was done tending to his wounds.

Once on his bed, he shrugged out of his coat and let it drop on the floor, knowing he would pick it up in the morning. He then made work of taking off his boots, his shirt and the rest of his clothes. Down to his briefs, Sung shifted his weight to settle his ankle on the opposite knee.

Since it seemed to be little more than a slightly twisted ankle, he reached for the bandages and his soothing balm. He rubbed the balm thoroughly along the ankle, working it into the skin until it was absorbed. He then wrapped the bandage around it securely, though keeping it loose enough that the blood could flow.

With that done, Sung reached over, set his alarm for eight and turned off the lights. He squirmed his way under his covers and nestled quietly against his body pillow.

Tomorrow would be one hell of a day. Turner would come up to his door, he knew it. He would then have to call in with one of the top Dom he knew from the club. They could gather up and discuss Turner’s case while he took care of the boy he was certain would be broken beyond repair.