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Potter-Kun
Star
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2017
- Location
- East Coast
t was an unassming building of course, nothing to set it apart from it's neighbors, no bouncer outside, no hint of the music that seethed within it's walls.
If you hadn't known this was the place, you must admit, you would never have guessed it.
Some say there's a secret tunnel to get in, some say there are any number of ways in, and since you don't think you've ever seen anyone going in or out, you're pretty sure there must be at least a few alternate routes, but this is the place. At least, you hope...
Any doubt is banished once you step inside. You have no idea how they muffle the noise or what they use to hide the students that come in and out, but the minute you open the outer door you can hear the heartbeat thumping of the drums faintly. The dark-lit hallway inside is short, with a handful of changing rooms on either side, no genders marked on the doors, just a hand-lettered sign that simply reads 'No Sex inside', and beneath that in smaller letters '(That's what the booths and bathrooms are for)'. You'd swear the handwriting is familiar, but the signature simply reads, 'Management', and with that alone it's pretty easy to know that you won't be finding out who wrote it any time soon. The people who run the club are notoriously secretive after all...
After the Changing rooms, the second door, and once you open it, the beat strikes you like a physical blow as you step into the club. The lower floor is massive, dimly lit booths surrounding a colorlit dance floor on either side, a DJ's booth opposite the door you entered through where some girl in a mask is spinning records when she isn't stepping back and forth, shaking her bared breasts for anyone who wants a look to see. The booths have curtains, presumably for those who want (a little) more privacy for some fun, though you can see at least a half dozen couples who haven't even bothered, and a dozen more groupings of people on the dance floor doing anything from making out while swaying to the beat to full-on fucking while the music and the dancers move around them.
There's an upper ring too, accessible by stairs to lead to several tables, and a bar, perched directly over top of the DJ's booth. You can't see as easily up there, but you don't need to see over the edge to spot at least two more couples in the throes of passion. Now that you look again, you definitely recognize a handful of the faces in the crowd! Or at least... You think you do... Where some are unmistakeable, others aren't so certain, and besides, even if you did really know them, the whole saying was 'what happens at Club Beacon, stays at Club Beacon' for a reason.
In any case, you're definitely in the right place...
Mike walked slowly though the club, bobbing his head to the beat of the music as he took in all the carnal pleasure people were enjoying in the club tonight. He was a tall young man, about 6'3. He was tanned, with crew cut brown hair and square rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was in shape, as all hunters had to be, and his muscles showed through red polo shirt he was wearing. His attire was fairly simple, just the shirt, pants and shoes. Nothing to fancy...after all, he guessed he would ended up losing most of his wardrobe before the end of the night.
His weapon hung from his hip, a single action army revolver that could shift into a longsword at his bidding. Making him a perfect close to mid-ranged fighter. He walked up to the bar and ordered himself a glasses of the finest bourbon they had. He was a liquor type of guy, and bourbon was the finest liquor around.
He took a drink of his bourbon on the rocks and lit up a cigar as he watched the people indulged in their desires. His face didn't betray any emotion, in fact, he was quite stoic at the moment. It was a facade though, one he wore well. Behind it, was the beast, waiting to ravish the women he desired tonight. His eyes scanned the floor, as he drank and smoke, looking for any girls that might suit him for this evening. He didn't mind if it took awhile, after all...the music and drinks were good, and he enjoyed watching people...especially with some of the things they were doing on the dance floor.
One might think the more debauched acts would happen out of sight, half-concealed behind the curtains of the booths perhaps, or more likely tucked away in one of the bathrooms whose gender signage had been scratched out long ago. (While the management could obviously afford repairs if they so chose, it suited the atmosphere, and the signs had never been fixed.) But as Mike watched the floor with interest he began to realize first that while the curtains enclosing the booths might shield some sight the silhouettes within left no doubt in the mind as to what was going on and in what position it was happening and second that while whatever was almost certainly going on in one or both of the bathrooms might be more depraved on some level, it was unlikely to hold much of a candle to what was happening in front of him on the dance floor.
The people on the dance floor were either bold and uncaring, exhibitionists, or wanted more than one man at a time, to say nothing of those that were some combination of those three simultaneously, and whichever category (or categories) they happened to fall into, all of the dancers were making an effort to show off and draw the eye, to gather the attention they craved. Given the numbers it effectively became a competition, and Mike could pick out the top contenders fairly easily.
One was a brunette faunus with rabbit ears who mike recognized as an upperclassman, though he couldn't recall her name off the top of his head. A leather vest lay open to bear her breasts and if she'd been wearing a skirt it was no longer around her hips, though fishnet stockings still graced her legs. It was pretty clear that she was the third sort, as she was practically dead to the world around her, drawing most of the attention she did through the sheer enthusiasm with which she was tackling four cocks at once, pulling two close together to let her tongue flick over one then the other and then back again in rapid succession while the other two pumped in and out of her simultaneously from below, fucking her pussy and asshole with powerful strokes.
Another was a girl Mike didn't recognize at all until he caught sight of a scar and realized just why she was drawing as much attention as she was. A petite little girl getting fucked in the ass wasn't much special given the debauchery surrounding him, unless of course that petite little girl was Weiss Schnee and the one fucking her must have been some sort of horse Faunus judging by the size he was sliding in and out of her. Credit where credit was due, she was taking the massive length to the hilt without so much as a hint of discomfort despite it's size, moaning like a whore as she was pounded from behind, but still...
If you hadn't known this was the place, you must admit, you would never have guessed it.
Some say there's a secret tunnel to get in, some say there are any number of ways in, and since you don't think you've ever seen anyone going in or out, you're pretty sure there must be at least a few alternate routes, but this is the place. At least, you hope...
Any doubt is banished once you step inside. You have no idea how they muffle the noise or what they use to hide the students that come in and out, but the minute you open the outer door you can hear the heartbeat thumping of the drums faintly. The dark-lit hallway inside is short, with a handful of changing rooms on either side, no genders marked on the doors, just a hand-lettered sign that simply reads 'No Sex inside', and beneath that in smaller letters '(That's what the booths and bathrooms are for)'. You'd swear the handwriting is familiar, but the signature simply reads, 'Management', and with that alone it's pretty easy to know that you won't be finding out who wrote it any time soon. The people who run the club are notoriously secretive after all...
After the Changing rooms, the second door, and once you open it, the beat strikes you like a physical blow as you step into the club. The lower floor is massive, dimly lit booths surrounding a colorlit dance floor on either side, a DJ's booth opposite the door you entered through where some girl in a mask is spinning records when she isn't stepping back and forth, shaking her bared breasts for anyone who wants a look to see. The booths have curtains, presumably for those who want (a little) more privacy for some fun, though you can see at least a half dozen couples who haven't even bothered, and a dozen more groupings of people on the dance floor doing anything from making out while swaying to the beat to full-on fucking while the music and the dancers move around them.
There's an upper ring too, accessible by stairs to lead to several tables, and a bar, perched directly over top of the DJ's booth. You can't see as easily up there, but you don't need to see over the edge to spot at least two more couples in the throes of passion. Now that you look again, you definitely recognize a handful of the faces in the crowd! Or at least... You think you do... Where some are unmistakeable, others aren't so certain, and besides, even if you did really know them, the whole saying was 'what happens at Club Beacon, stays at Club Beacon' for a reason.
In any case, you're definitely in the right place...
Mike walked slowly though the club, bobbing his head to the beat of the music as he took in all the carnal pleasure people were enjoying in the club tonight. He was a tall young man, about 6'3. He was tanned, with crew cut brown hair and square rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was in shape, as all hunters had to be, and his muscles showed through red polo shirt he was wearing. His attire was fairly simple, just the shirt, pants and shoes. Nothing to fancy...after all, he guessed he would ended up losing most of his wardrobe before the end of the night.
His weapon hung from his hip, a single action army revolver that could shift into a longsword at his bidding. Making him a perfect close to mid-ranged fighter. He walked up to the bar and ordered himself a glasses of the finest bourbon they had. He was a liquor type of guy, and bourbon was the finest liquor around.
He took a drink of his bourbon on the rocks and lit up a cigar as he watched the people indulged in their desires. His face didn't betray any emotion, in fact, he was quite stoic at the moment. It was a facade though, one he wore well. Behind it, was the beast, waiting to ravish the women he desired tonight. His eyes scanned the floor, as he drank and smoke, looking for any girls that might suit him for this evening. He didn't mind if it took awhile, after all...the music and drinks were good, and he enjoyed watching people...especially with some of the things they were doing on the dance floor.
One might think the more debauched acts would happen out of sight, half-concealed behind the curtains of the booths perhaps, or more likely tucked away in one of the bathrooms whose gender signage had been scratched out long ago. (While the management could obviously afford repairs if they so chose, it suited the atmosphere, and the signs had never been fixed.) But as Mike watched the floor with interest he began to realize first that while the curtains enclosing the booths might shield some sight the silhouettes within left no doubt in the mind as to what was going on and in what position it was happening and second that while whatever was almost certainly going on in one or both of the bathrooms might be more depraved on some level, it was unlikely to hold much of a candle to what was happening in front of him on the dance floor.
The people on the dance floor were either bold and uncaring, exhibitionists, or wanted more than one man at a time, to say nothing of those that were some combination of those three simultaneously, and whichever category (or categories) they happened to fall into, all of the dancers were making an effort to show off and draw the eye, to gather the attention they craved. Given the numbers it effectively became a competition, and Mike could pick out the top contenders fairly easily.
One was a brunette faunus with rabbit ears who mike recognized as an upperclassman, though he couldn't recall her name off the top of his head. A leather vest lay open to bear her breasts and if she'd been wearing a skirt it was no longer around her hips, though fishnet stockings still graced her legs. It was pretty clear that she was the third sort, as she was practically dead to the world around her, drawing most of the attention she did through the sheer enthusiasm with which she was tackling four cocks at once, pulling two close together to let her tongue flick over one then the other and then back again in rapid succession while the other two pumped in and out of her simultaneously from below, fucking her pussy and asshole with powerful strokes.
Another was a girl Mike didn't recognize at all until he caught sight of a scar and realized just why she was drawing as much attention as she was. A petite little girl getting fucked in the ass wasn't much special given the debauchery surrounding him, unless of course that petite little girl was Weiss Schnee and the one fucking her must have been some sort of horse Faunus judging by the size he was sliding in and out of her. Credit where credit was due, she was taking the massive length to the hilt without so much as a hint of discomfort despite it's size, moaning like a whore as she was pounded from behind, but still...
