[Gothnormativity, BDSM is Romantic: Ages 18+ (1B + 1D), 2C]

You explain your ideal world to an inquisitive Charles, his golden eyes gleaming, with a small laugh and a nod as you finish speaking.

"Honestly, I never thought you'd be interested in that," he says. "Like rough sex, huh?"

You turn a little red in embarrassment.

Charles laughs again and dismissively waves with his hand. "Not judging you, mate. If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get." He shifts in his chair, taking a more comfortable position, then says "So let me get this straight. You want a world where being Goth (whether it be a "typical" goth, a cybergoth, punk goth, victorian goth, whatever) is the norm; and for ages 18 and up only, being romantic is only considered to be taking part in some form of BDSM."

Truth be told, you always have had a thing for the Goth subculture. The dark clothing made of lace, velvet, vinyl, leather, and latex; the pale skin; dark or even black make-up, the dyed hair; the piercings, the chains, the tattoos, the gothic jewelry and spiked collars; the dark brooding music, along with the heavier **** metal music ... the darkness of it all - it interests you. There's a certain kind of sexiness about it all. Dangerous, rebellious sexiness. And pairing that up with BDSM being considered romantic ... yeah, this is a world you'd definitely be interested in. You nod your head, informing Charles that it's what you want.

Charles shrugs. "As you wish, mate," he says, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small flip phone that looks about a decade old. "Right then, lad. I'll give the doctor a call and you'll be on your way."

Punching numbers in, he puts the phone to his ear as the dial tone starts playing. Not long after, it stops and a muffled voice you can't hear very well from your end speaks up. "Yeah, listen, doc," Charles said. "Here's how things are gonna go down ..."

Charles relays the information to the point, and after some silence, the muffled voice says something very briefly before hanging up on their end, causing the call to drop. Charles turns his eyes to you as he closes his phone and stands up from his seat. "That's that. Now, if you'll follow me."

Getting up from your own chair, you follow the foreign gentleman through the maze of crates, occasionally passing an emotionless guard with eyes hidden behind heavy sunglasses. Your heart racing, you're still not sure what exactly to expect. How is this going to end ...?

"Here we are."

Looking around, you see that you and Charles are suddenly at the end of a very long white hallway, walls painted with streaks of black. In front of you stands a large black door with curved handles of silver, standing impressively tall.

How ... and when? Why are you in this hall? You were in the warehouse just moments ago ... right?

"Don't think too hard, lad," Charles says with a dismissive chuckle. "All I need you to do is imagine where you want to be when you open this door. It's that simple. Could be your shitty apartment, could be the halls of your college, could be a movie theater downtown. Just think of where you want to be as you start to explore and exploit the world you've created."

Well ... you've already come this far. You've listened to this insane gentleman prattle on about your casual fetishism and you've ended up in a white hallway beyond all logic ... so there's no point in trying to figure this out now. You decide to throw caution to the wind and go all the way, seeing this ride through to the end.

In a world where it's commonplace for people to be Goths of some kind or another, and romance is only considered to be BDSM ... in a world where it's been a long-standing social norm, where do you want to be?