The Palace of Pleasure

Only once before, when Jack had moved in with Tiff and wasn't adjusting very well to being away from his family, had he given in to this urge. His Mom and Jensen had insisted Jack get a place with Tiff, as there was no room in their current duplex for her to join them. So they got a place within walking distance and Jack hadn't adapted well, worried all the time that Jensen was going to do something stupid and get himself expelled from high school when he was so close to the end. But Jensen came over and told him one Saturday afternoon that he was looking forward to college, wanting a challenge from school rather that just cruising through it.

And then Jack made him swear he was going to graduate, with Jensen demanding that he take it easy in return. They shook on it and Jack did his very best to uphold his part of the promise, getting updates over the next week from his Mom that Jensen was indeed staying out of trouble and was talking more seriously about college.

So he was trying to relax but Jack wasn't very good at it, instead cleaning their apartment along with taking on laundry duty. He read all of the labels on Tiff's clothes and did most of them in separate loads from his stuff, folding and putting it all away. It wasn't hard but kept him busy and that's what he needed. Jack not having a duty to fulfill created a smothering silence that he didn't know how to navigate. The last load of laundry had been all of Tiff's underwear and those were nothing new to him, Jack had seen Tiff in all of it. But he had never been here, in this desolate quiet where Jack stood apart from all the distractions that had made up his life and alone with what he admired but never admitted to himself that he did.

With his heart beating so fast and hard it bordered on dangerous, Jack undid his too tight shorts and let only slightly ratty briefs fall to the floor. He wasn't thinking when his hand reached out and picked up a simple black pair. No thoughts crossed his mind, maybe aside from flickers of Tiff and how she looked in these underwear as Jack sat on the bed beside the rest of her clothes, pulling them on. Standing, he pulled them up and felt that they fit snugly but that was the same for Tiff as well.

Jack fell backwards on the bed, void starting to eat into his vision, erasing part of the wall before him as he took giant, gasping breaths, on the verge of passing out. He shouldn't be doing this, a brother's keeper didn't do things like this, what would Tiff think? On and on doubt assaulted him while a still shaking hand reached down to where Jack was obviously excited and started rubbing there, as if scared at first but increasing in speed.

The voice that cried out wasn't one even he would have recognized as his already tense body strained, Jack not seeing the ceiling as he gave a gasp before a damaged howl came forth, a wet spot growing in the no longer clean panties. And he lay there, panting, not feeling much in the way of peace but at least all the nags stopped in his head. There was no denying it had felt good but that pleasure was tainted, dangerous.

Minutes passed before Jack twitched and sat up, removing the underwear and holding them away from his body as if utterly disgusted by the panties while walking to the kitchen. Filling up a sink with hot water, he added a tiny amount of laundry detergent and scrubbed them clean, only wearing a shirt and nothing more as he worked. There was a clarity to Jack now, a single thing to do and it was making sure Tiff never knew he did this. Once he was sure they were clean, the panties were tossed in the dryer with a used dryer sheet then started. The sink was drained then scrubbed until it sparkled and then he checked the single object in the dryer, finding it was nice and toasty.

Only then did Jack return to the bedroom, redress and fold everything, putting it all where it belonged in the dresser. That done, Jack sat on the bed and just focused on breathing before the ability to think past what he had done clearly returned. "Can't be having that." He said in the quiet, mouth pulled into a snarl, lines on his forehead as his fingers clamped down on already tight thighs. A deep breath, glaring at the wall hard enough it should have cracked under the strain and Jack let it out slowly and loudly.

"Okay?" That single word was a question, soft, nearly lost in what came next. "Okay!" He lifted hands off his legs and slapped them back down, the sound loud and abrasive. Jack stood and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge and ended up making enough food for four people, Tiff having no clue what had come over Jack when she came home. Her asking how he was only resulted in his face pulling into a mockery of a smile, eyes hard and desperate while Jack said he was fine. He saw she wasn't buying it but while eating Tiff mentioned the car wasn't running quite right and then, using the last of the daylight, Jack sat outside, listening to some nasty new racket while researching on his phone what the issue might be. Yes, fixing it cost money they couldn't spare but it needed to be done and Jack gave himself fully to the task. In the parking lot of an auto parts store, he finished replacing a nearly completely worn through belt and nodded once the engine turned over without producing that ugly knocking sound. That's all it took for Jack to return to normalcy, having nearly forgotten about that momentary break.

Nearly forgotten wasn't the same as being buried by the sands of time and this memory resurfacing brought no comfort. "Doing okay out there?" The sultry female voice asked from behind the metal and glass, Jack jerking away from the teller window, having forgotten there was someone in there. "Taking a while."

"I never wore this sort of stuff before." Jack half lied, hating to do it but he was too unnerved to make up any excuse.

"Really? Well, I can ask someone here to come help you if you'd like." She sounded surprised and Jack was astonished to find he was desperately scared. These memories were deep and well hidden, useless to him on an average day and now it was a hole he'd fallen into. No matter how many times he told himself that, to leave such stupidity behind, it didn't make it any easier. And now Jack was looking at clothes he liked, admired and maybe even adored but people like him couldn't do that, they had to get the job done and this didn't fit into his world view, this didn't help Jensen stay focused or ease up the strain on his Mom.

And he was surprised once more when his eyes overflowed, a few hot tears running down his face. This wasn't helpful either but that didn't change the fact Jack was crying.

"Oh honey, it's okay. Here..." And then there was something clicking, not the sort that unlocked a door but equally as mechanical. Jack wiped his eyes, not wanting to be in this stifling, weird room anymore but in a stall with the music playing, it was so close and instead he was stuck in here.

From behind him something opened but Jack's vision was blurry, overtaken by shame and he failed to comprehend what was happening. Part of the wall had opened up and, upon wiping his eyes, found a hidden door was being closed and the woman he had danced with last time was in the too small space with him. Red hair, beautiful face and a whole lot of skin showing but Jack noticed her kind and understanding expression the most.

"Hey, you came back!" She said before noticing the obvious, Jack trying to wipe away all evidence of his weakness. "Aw, having trouble with the outfit?" All he could do was nod, too ashamed to speak.

"It's alright, the first time is the hardest." Jack said nothing of his first time, how disgusted he'd felt after and how close to oblivion he'd danced by trespassing. "But if you want to dance then you need to change. It's the rule." The dancer said with a shrug.

"Please, that's all I want." Jack said with a naked longing in his voice that couldn't be helped.

"Then let's get you changed!" The woman announced, leading Jack to instantly reply with: "I have a girlfriend!"

"Good for you!" That was her response and he didn't know how to answer it. Instead Jack did as he was asked and pulled his shirt off, the woman that had to be about his age taking it. She handed him the band and told him it went about his chest, helping to pull it down and adjusting it once on. Jack wasn't ready for how much he liked it, trying on these clothes and felt another dismal surge of guilt that he was doing it with someone that wasn't Tiff. But she might not like him doing it anyway and Jack stood there, uncertain until the dancer pulled down his pajama shorts.

"Nothing down here I haven't seen before." She said, handing over the deep red panties, the color of shame, the color of heart's desire, of true love and bloody murder and too rare steaks. He pulled them on in a hurry, if only to cover his arousal but it only added to it. The skirt came next and Jack stepped into it and then needed her to twist it until the zipper was in the back and she tugged it up, securing him in.

It hid away his erection and Jack was glad for that at least. But this was the first skirt he'd worn and it was going too far, none of this should have happened in the first place. But when the dancer handed a black belt over he still fed it though the loops on the skirt before she also gave him a faux leather pouch that got fed into the belt and hung there, out of the way once he buckled it.

"See? No big deal." The dancer said while handing over his ticket, that being tucked in the convenient pouch as the skirt didn't have enough fabric to entertain the idea of pockets. "So these are a pain to get on while standing. I'll do it if you want?" She said, holding up a pair of black stockings, the exactly same sort she was wearing.

"Why?" Jack asked even while leaning against the dark wall that had slightly too much give to it and extending a leg towards her.

"Because I want to dance and so do you." That was all she said before pulling the tight, clingy and slightly smothering thing up his leg, tugging once before letting it hug his thigh. He put the now covered foot on the floor and raised the other one, not believing this was happening nor how the dancer was treated him. It was sort of refreshing, having her just doing what needed to be done.

"And finally, here!" She held out a headband, again like the one she was wearing and Jack just lowered his head, having never worn this before either. Her hands, soft but still moving with purpose, brushed his hair back before slipping it on. Jack rose and looked at her, nearly too scared to think. He had given over to the thing he couldn't do and with a person he didn't even know the name of.

"Oh, is this yours?" Jack's heart fluttered as she picked up the open tube of lipstick and looked at him. He saw she was wearing a faint pink color and thought of his beauty bud who had asked if he wanted someone to do this for him.

"Yes." He said with a dry mouth and she handed it over, disappointing Jack for the first time. But there was no judgment, just her giving Jack what was his'. So he licked then puckered his lips, rolling the slightly sticky lipstick on for the first time in nearly a decade. Then finished it off by rubbing his lips together and then looking at the dancer, who just nodded.

"Looking good! I'll be in Room 6 but take your time if you need to, okay?" Jack nodded as the redhead went to the wall where a door just opened without a sound, furthering his dislike of this closet sized holding cell. "I'm looking forward to dancing with you." And just like that, Jack was ready. He forgot about shedding any tears as the fear melted away just from the mention of dancing, the beat from the song finally returning and granting some measure of serenity.

Jack watched as the dancer who had dressed him slipped out of the room and the door closed, leaving him alone in a room he wished very badly to be free from. He knocked on the teller's window and the door unlocked with it's usual click, Jack grabbing it and slipping out as fast as possible, stumbling and falling against the first door as he soaked in the atmosphere of the seemingly endless hallway.

Faintly he heard music but finally, finally! Jack could point towards the source but instead walked closer to it. His stocking covered feet made hushed sounds on the carpet but Jack failed to notice that or one of the doors to his left opening, an unseen someone watching him pass. All that mattered was the song that was slowing growing louder as he approached, a slight sway entering his gait and no thought was given over to how he was dressed anymore.

"Room 6." Jack said, not bothering with the rest of what had been told to him. The music, faint as it was, certainly was to his liking and he had to turn around and count, making absolutely sure he was standing before Room 6. He wanted to dance so badly it was an ache and Jack reached for the faux leather pouch on his belt, snapping it open and pulling out a mangled coin without having the wherewithal to ask where it came from. It was fed into the slot created for such a thing and he reached for the handle, twisting and giving a little cry when it finally opened to the dancer who had helped him dress.

She was sitting on her haunches right by the barrier that separated her from the stall, waiting. Waiting for him? Jack didn't care if that was the case or not anymore. The door closed as he stepped in and Jack gave a deep sigh at getting here. This small, barely fit to be called a room, stall was where he needed to be most in all the world. And standing there, he didn't hear any music but that didn't phase him much. There was no stool sharing the space with him but Jack didn't, couldn't, notice. He had made it and that's all that mattered.

The dancer raised a hand, palm up, and a guitar began to play, instantly erasing all the tension and worry she had incurred from dressing Jack. She saw the prettiness he naturally had and considering how Jack was dressed, there might as well have been a girl standing there, nodding along with the strumming. And yet her heart soared, for she knew all the paths that lead from here, where the music played and those few who truly heard it danced.

One guitar string playing was all it took to soothe all the imperfections in Jack's soul, head bopping along with the opening notes, in time with the dancer. She was visibly excited but hardly alone in that, Jack's nipples were sticking out from the breast band as he joined her in raising a hand, palm up. Then bass kicked in when he matched her, the tone low, sexy and dangerous. She stood in a smooth motion, still nodding with the guitar and tapping a foot along with the bass.

At the same time, each person rose their left hand and the fingers all came together before it was flung as out far as it would go, snapping once fully extended, matching the drum as it started. Those fingers began to bob with the beat as now hips started to sway, the vocals far off, as if being sung from a great distance. Jack knew that wasn't the case, true distance was being away from here and utterly unable to hear the real deal straight from the speakers.

Open hand still in the air, Jack closed his eyes and held the empty palm before his face, the dancer doing the same. So in sync they were one might have been a reflection of the other, the left hands still bobbing to the beat, hips going back and forth, foot tapping on carpet and stage. Then the empty hand touched face, running down to chin, neck and then chest, one nearly flat, one full.

Left hand swung forward and gestured, each beckoning the other, a reflection asking it's maker to step forth. Both heads leaned back, hips taking a wide rotation as the vocals became more clear, matching the dark tones laid out by the instruments. Beckoning hand pulled towards the bodies as hair fell away from the faces that pointed up, both sets of eyes closed. They looked as if they were posing under a waterfall for the cover of some magazine, that image helped by their hands cupping before chests while a leg lifted, raising the skirt slightly.

Then, in perfect time with the music, those cupped hands shot to the side and heads whipped forward, hair flying about as the song erupted. Jack danced and would have exulted in how good this finally was if the song hadn't invaded his head, heart and soul. No radio had ever played this song before, he knew that now. It's origins weren't of any concern either. All that mattered was it was playing and Jack was close enough to hear it.

And so Jack danced, finally light enough to do so. Jensen didn't occur to him, nor did his Mom or Tiff or the job scheduled for him later that day. There was music and he reveled in the freedom as did the woman across from him, each knowing what the other was going to do by the song that was blasting from speakers hidden in the dark.

Minutes passed but the song didn't end, merely dipping into natural lulls and even then Jack moved along with it. An hour passed and he didn't notice, only stopping when he and the other dancer pointed two fingers and a thumb from an otherwise closed fist and pointed it at the floor before the thumb lowered, hand jerking back as the song ended with an abrupt, single bash of a drum.

Jack stood there, feeling empty but not in a bad way. No, he was tired and that was glorious, it was earned. Looking up at the stage, he saw the dancer was equally worn out, her impressive chest heaving and she was smiling at him. Jack returned it and felt like he was due for a good night's sleep. The dancer waved and Jack did the same before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Dark and empty, he walked to the door waiting for him at the end, Jack not noticing his walk had changed slightly.

Opening the door into the dark, tiny space that seemed wrong in a way he couldn't quite articulate, Jack saw the space under the teller's window was occupied by a container holding his clothes. He looked down and saw the impossible, a band about his chest and a skirt barely keeping him decent.

"Please leave The Palace's outfit in the container then take your leave." A familiar voice said from the dark behind the glass and Jack slowly nodded. His hands undid the belt and set it by what he had been wearing, recalling how scared he had been by expecting to wear this. Fingers went to the elastic holding the stockings up and pushed them down, rolling the right one off then setting it on the counter before doing the same to the left leg.

Jack didn't feel that rush of fear and shame for wanting to dress in clothing that wasn't his own anymore. Too tired but also it hadn't hurt him. Undoing the zipper on the skirt, he pulled it down and that too, went on the counter. Then came the red panties and those gave him pause, wanting to leave them on and simply throw his usual clothes over top of them.

But no, Jack pulled them off and sighed at the rush of cool air touching him there. Then came the band and he had to struggle to get that over his head, finally naked. Dressing in what he had arrived in, Jack opened the hard container and fished out his ticket before opening the last door and exiting The Palace. The stairs were taken slowly, his legs tired along with the rest of him. Still, the night wasn't as warm as it had been and Jack enjoyed the short walk to his waiting car. Driving was slow and uneventful, Jack turning the radio off, not wanting other music to pollute the almost trance like state he had found.

Once home, Jack had to make sure the front door was locked behind him then slowly he walked to the bedroom where Tiff was still out, not knowing he had been gone for over an hour. Once again he undressed, feeling hot despite how nice it was outside and in here. Carefully, Jack laid down beside Tiff and closed his eyes, knowing he needed a shower but that had to wait. A well deserved sleep was on the top of Jack's very short list of things that needed done right then.