It started in a club

Rewind to two years prior.

Loud music circulated around the dancefloor, its beat pulling dancers into a frenzy of dance and movement. Servers went from table to table, delivering drinks, and cleaning empty tables as the customers came and went. A few security guards were spread out in a discrete pattern, keeping an eye on everything, and stopping anything unwanted from happening. This was LA's hottest club in town. For now, at least. Trends and popularity switched around faster than most people care to check, and what is the hottest thing today, can be old news tomorrow. But at this moment, everyone who was something and liked to party wild went to this place.

So did John. Not because he was a wild partygoer, though he enjoyed his moments like everyone else, but because he liked to watch. One of his favourite hobbies was just sitting somewhere with a drink, and watch the people live their life around him, especially if the people he was watching were drunk themself. It never stopped amusing him as he watched drunken teenagers walk up to some celebrity, and ask them something stupid, often resulting in a swift kick to the balls or a fancy cocktail in the face. John was currently sitting at a bar placed against the railing of the second floor. This way he had a perfect view of the floor below, while never being far from a refill or a bathroom. He took a sip from his second glass of rum of the evening and spotted some kid barely old enough to be allowed in, walk up to a woman clearly miles above him. Less then a minute later, the kid got the expected slap in the face, before the woman walked off with a huff.

John was not one of LA's wannabe stars. Nor was he a tourist attracted to its many landmarks. He was an engineer. Specifically, a biomechanical engineer. His job was to create, invent, or work with, devices that worked together with the human body. There was a large company in LA that specialised in implants and prosthetics, and he was one of their more successful specialists. This job required him to be an expert in engineering and human physiology, obviously, but he recently expanded his skill to include nano computing. The inclusion of microprocessors into special implants was already paying off, and his employers were very happy with what he had done. Like, own a fancy-ass house in Beverly hills, happy.

As far a John's looks went, he did alright, if he was saying so himself. He had an above-average build, with a lean body caused by the regular workout. he was clean shaved since body hair could often mess up results when working in a cleanroom. And for that same reason, he had his hair cut in a messy, but short style. Enough to give it a dishevelled look, without it actually being unkempt. He got his fair share of attention from both men and woman, though most would forget he was there when placed next to the superstars that roamed the city. But he preferred it that way, it gave him the peace and quiet to do what he was doing right now. Leaning casually against a bar, with a glass of good rum, watching young people make fools of themself.

There was a loud *thump* from the spot next to him, and as he turned his face to look, he saw a moderately expensive purse was resting in the spot between his seat, and the next. He looked passed the bag for the owner and was momentarily caught speechless by what he saw.

Alexandra Daddario had taken a seat right next to him. She was wearing a tight-fitting shirt and equally tight jeans. The clothes were stylish enough to be pretty, but also gave off an air of causality. It also did nothing to hide her impressive curves. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell to just below her shoulders. Her otherwise pretty face was set in a look of annoyance, and when she spotted John looking at her, her eyes narrowed slightly. Catching the hint, John looked back at the dancefloor below, but he still spoke loud enough that she could hear him.

'Let me guess; What was supposed to be a relaxing night of fun is not going as you wanted?'

When no response came, he continued.

'What was it? Rabid fanboy? Or pervy creep?'

This time he heard a reaction. Alexandra made a sound that was a combination of disgust and anger.

'Fucking assholes. Can't they take a hint and just leave a woman alone when they say no. Just because I'm famous and good looking doesn't give them the right to harras me.'

'Yeah funny that. They never mentioned that part in the brochure when you apply for the job. Don't they?'

He saw Alexandra looking his direction from the corner of his eye, and was silently pleased to see some of her anger begin to fade, and dare he say it even a small smile.'

'But then again, I would imagine few people would become an actor or actress if they were upfront about the stalkers and creeps.'

He reached for his glass but found it missing. A quick search found it halfway towards Alexandra's mouth, who took a big sip, before putting it back.

'I don't mind the attention, most are pretty decent, or respectable. But the things some of them say.'

Alexandra shuddered visibly at the thought of what the latest "fan" said to her. She glanced towards the man next to her and noticed that he had just finished his drink. A drink half of which she just claimed. She signalled a waiter to come over.

'Allow me to refill your drink since I just stole half of it.' After ordering two glasses of the same, Alexandra held out her hand. 'I'm Alexandra, by the way, in case you didn't notice yet.'

John took the hand, and after pressing a faint kiss on the back of it, introduced himself.

'John Doe, and I did. It just looked like another reminder of your fame was the last thing you wanted.'

The two began conversing some more, and it was three hours, and several more drinks later, that the two parted ways after promising to do this again should they run into each other a second time.

And a second time it became. And a third. And fourth. And then a regular thing, until they saw each other regularly enough, that the ever-present gossip media took notice. Alexandra never elaborated on their relation beside them being "Friends". And John was unknown enough that nobody cared, so they were left alone most of the time. Two months later, and John and Alex, he had earned enough of her trust to be ranked among the lucky few to call her Alex, were sitting on a terrace in the warm LA sun.

Alexandra was wearing a buttoned blouse and simple jeans. The top two buttons were loose, exposing just enough of her generous cleavage to distract most people around her. John was also wearing casual clothes of a simple shirt and jeans. They were going over each other's week, and Alex laughed loudly as John told her of something that had happened during his week.

'Okay, so, something different now. What is the weirdest thing you ever had to make? Surely you get all kinds of requests. What's the strangest one you ever had to do?'

John had that answer ready within a minute.

'Easy. There was this couple once, who wanted a specially designed chastity device for one of them.' He saw Alex's face drop in disbelief and continued his story. 'They apparently had this dom/sub relation, and the dom wanted her partner to be in such a device, for a whole list of reasons that I can't talk about in public. They broke up before the project was completed, so the order was cancelled, but I still have the prototype and matching software. The company didn't want to keep it, said it wasn't good publicity if other customers saw it, so it's at my place now.'

Alex picked up her glass and took a long drink from her soda. She gave John a long, pensive look, and he could almost see the thoughts swirling behind those bright eyes of hers.

'So you have a Chastity belt in your home? I've heard of those things, but never actually seen one in person. Besides in a museum of course. Does it work?'

John nodded hesitantly, not sure where this conversation was going.

'Have you ever tried it on someone?' A shake of his head told her no. 'Why not? Never found someone good enough?'

'Never found someone willing to test it. It's not a finished product, it needs to be tested, and adjusted for each person. And not a whole lot of people are that excited about wearing a chastity device, let alone an experimental one. Why are you asking anyway?'

John took his glass to take a sip of his own drink.

'Want me to test it for you?'

And promptly chocked as her response was processed by his brain. It took him a few minutes to recollect himself, and a napkin to clean the table of the remains of his drink before the conversation resumed.

'Jezus Alex, don't say stuff like that when a man is drinking. But are you serious? And if so, why?'

'Well, it kinda sounds hot, don't you think, to have your most precious part sealed away like that. Besides, I know the fact that the project is unfinished annoys you, I know you good enough for that. And you've always treated me with respect, and never said anything untoward. So if you need someone to test that thing, why not. I trust you to not take advantage of the situation.'

There was a moment of silence as John weighted out the cons and pros. She was right, he hated the fact that it was an unfinished project, and he would welcome her input in testing it. On the other hand, this was clearly a sexual device. Their relationship, while friendly and growing with each meeting, had not grown to be something more personal. Was he willing to risk that for the sake of his own curiosity?

'Let's go to my place first, you can see it, and I'll explain some basic stuff, and then you can decide if you want to test it.'

Alex readily agreed, and after paying for their drinks, the two friends walked to John's car and drove towards his house, not knowing that their entire relationship was about to change.