Santana was acting even more mysterious than usual. This was of great concern to both Kurt and Rachel, who had noticed an unusual drop in snarky comments and general snooping in their day-to-day lives. Instead, she would sneak out every few Friday or Saturday nights and not return until the early hours of the morning. At first, they thought she was going clubbing without them, but surely, she would have extended the invite to her friends?

This evening, the mystery surrounding Santana's activities was an itch that Kurt really needed to scratch. He lounged upon the couch with his Vouge magazine while Rachel attempted to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies. This was her third attempt and the smoke from the first two was only just starting to leave the air. Sneaking through the smoke Santana in a long black trench cloak and red pumps. This was the night Santana was not going to leave without giving Kurt some answers.

"Where do you think your going?" Kurt lowered his magazine and arched an eyebrow. Santana paused at the door. Turing over her shoulder. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and plaited down to her shoulders.

"Out." She replied casually.

"Where?" Kurt slunk his way towards Santana as casually as possible. She was like a cat, if she knew you were onto her, she would run away, or worse, use her claws.

"Nowhere." She shrugged. Kurt eyed her up and down.

"Good, so you wont mind if I come with you." Kurt's comment caused Santana to break out in a horrifically evil smirk.

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't like it."

"Try me." Kurt folded his arms across his chest and leant his shoulder against the door, showing Santana he could be just as stubborn as she was.

"Yeah Santana, where have you been going?" Rachel called from the kitchen, balancing a try of overly crispy cookies. She had a fourth batch still to venture into the hellishly warm oven.

"No where you need to know about, Berry." Santana matched Kurt's pose. "Fine, Kurt." She hummed. "If you really want to know then you have to come with me. And that goes for you too Rachel." She called. "Whether you find out from me or Kurt, if you find out, you're also coming along." Both Kurt and Rachel had seen that sinister smirk on Santana's crimson lips. This was a trap. Kurt and Rachel shared a look between them from across the room. If they were to ever uncover this mystery, one of them would have to make the sacrifice. Kurt pulled in a deep breath and puffed his chest.

"Fine." He sung. "Tell me."

"Oh, no, Hummel." She took the crook of his elbow in her hand and pulled him towards his bedroom. "We need to get you into a change of clothes."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing." Kurt thought his navy chinos and teal and grey pattered shirt were perfect for any occasion.

"Oh, you'll understand. And Berry! If I so much as suspect you are listening at the door…" She left, her warning hanging as she pushed Kurt into his bedroom. Kurt's room was basically a tiny walk-in wardrobe; clustered but perfectly organised. Kurt eyed his friend up and down, waiting an explanation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The more she asked this question the more stubbornly Kurt dug his heels in and replied.

"Yes."

"Ok." She shrugged and unbuttoned her trench coat. Underneath she wore a black sarong style dress that dipped a little down her neckline and reached just above her knees. For Santana it was extremely modest… too modest.

"Are you going to some midnight funeral?" Kurt was extremely confused, then he noticed a flash of red rope hiding underneath her neckline. As he noticed this, Santana, who had rolled her eyes, began to untie the wrap around her waist and reveal what was hidden underneath her wrap dress.

"Oh, dear lord!" Kurt covered his eyes. There were some things he could not unseen. Standing before him was Santana dressed in far less than underwear. Her flawlessly tan skin was snaked with ropes, around her hips, down along her thighs and dipped around her neckline. The ropes extenuated her hourglass figure and dug snugly into her flesh. Her bra was slipped underneath those scarlet ropes cupping her breasts and covering her nipples with strategically patterned lace. Kurt did not ask her to turn around to confirm his suspicions, but he was sure she was wearing a G-string. She popped her hip impatiently, waiting for Kurt's embarrassment to subside.

"Santana." He hissed, trying to meet her eyes. They had accidentally seen each other naked before, but nothing like this. Living together there would be the inevitable walking in on each other in the shower or bathroom. This was something else. "I know we said you had to start paying rent, but we don't want you to resort to this. I can't let you do this to yourself."

"Kurt, Kurt, relax." Santana was laughing. Laughing! Hard Kurt ever heard Santana laugh before? oh, God, was she doing drugs too? "It's not what you think."

"Not what I think? What else could it be? Your wearing shibari for goodness sake."

"Well, Hummel I'm surprised you know what that is, props to you."

"Oh please, it was a fashion trend last year. I even made myself a shibari inspired vest, don't you remember? You said I looked like I got caught in a gothic fisherman's net. But that's beside the point!" Kurt had begun to raise is voice without even realising it. He lowered it quickly, not wanting Rachel to overhear. She did not need to know about this. "Santana, where are you going?"

"We…" she corrected, "are going to a club."

"Not dressed like that you're not." Santana rolled her eyes again and wrapped her dress back up. She didn't think Kurt's cheeks could have blushed any brighter.

"Not dressed like that, you're not." She used his words against him and strutted towards his wardrobe. "I'll pick you out something more suitable for the place we're going." She brushed passed him towards his wardrobe and started siphoning through his clothes.

"Ah, Santana? This is like some sex club, isn't it? Because I don't feel comfortable, you know… doing…"

"Relax Kurt." Santana shoved three coat hangers into his arms. Thank God there was a decent amount of fabric attached to it. "You don't have to do anything your uncomfortable with." Kurt opened his mouth to speak but she held a finger before he could try and weasel his way out of accompanying her. "Except coming with me. You made a deal, you must keep it. Now, get changed." Instead of leaving the room she sat on the edge of the bed. Kurt narrowed his eyes, but she didn't budge.

"You're going to have to get used to being a little naked, Kurt." She explained. "Besides, I have to make sure you don't try and escape out the window. Kurt huffed, turned around and unbuttoned his favourite shirt. What Santana had chosen for him was certainly no where near as revealing as what she was wearing. In his hands were his tight fitting shining black pants. Two seasons ago he thought they could work with a long knee length turtleneck, oh how he had been wrong.

This evening Santana had paired these latex-tight pants with his sheer white shirt. At least it wasn't skin tight, but without wearing a shirt underneath, his little pink nipples were very visible. Kurt turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover them.

"Can I at least wear a vest or something?" Santana had to think about that for a while.

"Show me what you're thinking, Lady Hummel." For Santana to approve, there was only one vest Kurt could wear. But his shibari inspired rope laced vest was better than no vest at all. He pulled it from his wardrobe and shrugged it on. At least now his nipples wouldn't be two blaring beacons in what ever sex dungeon Santana was about to drag them to.

"Here." Santana tossed him one of his long winter cloaks. It was a welcome source of modesty. "And remember, you breath a word to Rachel and she has to come as well." Santana strutted out of the bedroom where Rachel was innocently sitting on the couch closest to Kurt's bedroom.

"Your cookies are burning." Santana sung. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to eaves drop."

"Crap!" Rachel cursed. Santana was right. Smoke was billowing from the oven.

"Kurt, what is it? You have to tell me." Rachel cried as she raced to save her last batch.

"No, no you do not want to know." There was no way he was going to tell her.

"Please."

"I'm doing this for your own good." Were Kurt's last words as Santana shoved him out of the apartment.

Santana filled Kurt in on more of the details in the cab ride over. From what she told him it was one of those secret-squirrels clubs where you had to know someone who was in the know. So, who the hell did Santana know? All the while Santana was talking Kurt was feeling the nerves buzz in his chest. It was just one night, he told himself, and like Santana had said, there was no pressure to do anything. He could just be a wallflower, a kinky wallflower.

The cab dropped them off outside a night club. The queue of people outside were dressed normally. And he knew this nightclub, this was just a normal nightclub! Santana pulled him towards the bouncers, whispers something on one of their ears and he motioned them inside. Santana swerved to the left and ducked behind a curtain and through a 'staff only' door. Behind that door was a narrow red velvet lined corridor, at the end of the corridor was a short brunet behind a desk. She was wearing a plain black t-shirt and beamed brightly at the sight of Santana.

"Hi San. It's good to see you." Her button nose scrunched up when she grinned a friendly smile.

"Hi Danni."

"Who's your friend."

"This is Kurt. He's my guest. I know we're meant to tell you in advance when we bring someone, but this was kind of last minute." Dannie narrowed her eyes towards Kurt then gave a look of approval.

"I'll allow it, only because it's you, San, and the kid looks too terrified to cause any trouble. Kurt, come with me and I'll take you through some of the rules here.". Danni took Santana's cloak, and with a little coaxing, took Kurt's too, labelled them and put them in the cloak room. She motioned for Santana to enter through the door beside her, it was so well disguised Kurt had missed its presence. Kurt stayed with Danni as she ran through what to expect, what was expected and what made this club different from others out there, not that Kurt had anything to compare it too.

"You'll see staff members in black t-shirts. We're all here to keep you safe and make your time enjoyable. If you prefer you can refer to us as slaves, daddies, masters, what ever kink you prefer. If you let me know I can make a note on your file." She turned to type on her computer.

"Ummm."

"Ok, we can come back to that one." Danni continued with her questions and explanations, asking for ID, taking a photo with the security lens at the front desk. "Different levels of membership give you access to different rooms and events. Since you are a guest, you're only permitted in the main club area, no private rooms as we want to keep an eye on you to make sure your safe and abiding by our rules. We do have a bar, we have a maximum number of drinks her hour, any intoxication and you will be out. We take that rule very seriously here. When you enter you will see designated sexy-time platforms. Each platform is equipped with everything you need, please use the towels provided. Please keep your indulgences to these areas. We ask that you wear something that covers your ass cheeks when you're in the club area, nobody wants to sit on a sweaty butt-seat…."

There were more rules too, ranging from the obvious to certain kink's Kurt would have to urban-dictionary later. Although Danni was kind and welcoming, Kurt was still on edge and as she led him through to the club, he felt like he maybe he should have told Rachel and at least they could have endured this together.

Then, finally it was time to venture into the club. The club itself was the size of a large room, music was playing but no where near as loud as nightclubs. Perfect for conversation but loud enough to muffle the moans from the couples in the intimacy areas. Those areas were scattered around the room and ranged from large beds, to lounge chairs, sex swings and some structure that Kurt was sure was a death-trap waiting to happen. The club itself consisted of a dance floor, stripper poles, individual lounges and tables. The club was comfortably crowded. Men and women dressed in all grades of kink and lingerie chatting and mingling. Kurt didn't stare for too long, lest he catch someone's eye and politely attempt to make conversation while his throat grew uncomfortably dry with nerves. Kurt spied the bar and darted towards it hoping to find Santana there. Instead he found the bar tender.

"Hi." A tanned boy with thick but shapely eyebrows smiled. He finished wiping down the benchtop. Kurt blinked stupidly at the man's debonair looks and gelled hair. His black shirt pulled tightly across his broad chest teasingly revealing a gentle outline of his pecs.

"Hi." Kurt replied a second too late to be casual. Kurt couldn't stop staring at his eyes. he became nervous for a whole new reason now. If he wasn't so overwhelmed, he was certain his tight pants would have made themselves even tighter.

"This must be your first time here."

"How could you tell?" Kurt quipped, sinking into the barstool, firstly checking for any butt-sweat. It was clean.

"Well, by the fact you look like you've just become lost in the deep dark woods, Snow White." His voice was gently flirtatious. "The computer system also helps. Lets us know who is new, who is allowed where. I know basically everything, Kurt." Kurt must have looked shocked that the man knew his name. Blaine reached out a re-assuring hand, offered his own introduction.

"Blaine." Kurt shook his sturdy grip. "Now, ironically I'm not meant to encourage the consumption of alcohol to have an enjoyable time, but I think you could use a drink." Kurt couldn't have agreed more.