DISCLAIMER: "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions. Permission to reproduce this specific material may be granted by the author so long as you email first. (c)2007 native_pangean@fsmail.net. Bookshire Draftwood (c) David Pitstone.

Chapter 4: Forbidden

Antoine was worried. He sat on the fallen tree trunk watching Sonic singing badly on the makeshift stage and wondered how he could approach Velvet.

'Iniquity', the name of the nightclub Velvet had been to the other night, didn't sound like the kind of place the sister of the Captain of the Guards should go to. And she'd lied, too. When he'd asked her where she was going, she'd said the 'Boiler Room' and talked with enthusiasm about the musicians who would be playing there the next night. The Boiler Room itself was well-known enough in Knothole, it was in the neighbouring large town of Greenleaf. A lot of people went there, even from Knothole.

No, Antoine knew she was lying, but he had no idea what this Iniquity place was, or what happened there. He wished he could find out, but how? Princess Sally probably wouldn't know, well-informed as she was, and asking her would mean she knew there was something very strange going on. No, he could not ask her. Better to confront Velvet herself. He stood up and took a gulp of apple-flavoured courage.

"Ah, Velvet!" he greeted, walking up to her as she stared slack-jawed at the stage, mesmerised by the sheer awfullness of Sonic's performance. She turned to look at him and smiled. Antoine got face to face with her before he realised he didn't know how to approach this topic at all.

"I zeenk zat Sonique is not such a good singer as... What waz eet? Black Onyx?" he asked, dropping the name of a performer Velvet had mentioned would be at the Boiler Room. She nodded. No clue as to her deception.

"I'm wondering if we should go up there and show them how it's done!" she replied, referring to her and Antoine's canine history. Almost all of the canine family were beautiful singers, and had a natural ability to sing sympathetically as part of a duet or a quoir. The end of her sentence was obscured by Sonic, who massacred a high note, and the two dogs cringed together, before looking at eachother and laughing. Then Velvet noticed that when Antoine finished laughing, he was looking at her nervously.

"Erm... Velvet," he started, looking into his cup and seemingly struggling for words. "Zere is somezing I weesh to be asking you." Both of them tensed as Antoine searched for the right words. "You... You said you were to be going to ze Boiler Room..."

Oh no, please no, thought Velvet.

"Which eez fine. Very, very... ab-so-lut-elly... fine!" Antoine stammered, looking very hot under the collar. "You are to be safe there, yes?" He asked quickly, his face imploring her for an answer.

"Oh... Yes, of course I'm safe there, Tony," Velvet answered smoothly. "The people there are very friendly - I'm in no danger!" she reassured him, her own smile soothing and calm. A little too much so.

Just then, a polite round of applause signalled that Sonic's song was well and truly dead, and she glanced at the stage. "Right," she said finally. "these people deserve better - I'm going in!" and she hurried over to the stage manager to put herself forward for a ballad she always sang well.

Antoine felt hugely relieved that the conversation was over, but was still no closer to an answer. He returned to his seat and watched Velvet quietly as she sang the opening lyrics of the gutsy rock song and the residents of Knothole whooped with recognition.

Rotor closed the front door behind him and crossed to the kitchen area, where he fetched himself a glass of water. He leaned his back against the work top, sipping and still half-fooling himself that he wasn't thinking about Velvet.

Truth was, he liked her - they got on as if they'd been friends for years. There were never any awkward silences and she had a sense of humour just this side of decent.

He thought she was pretty, but no more than most girls - what he felt because he was a guy. But today, something inside him had snapped and he wasn't sure how he'd react if he saw her. He glanced at the door. She would be home soon. He decided to get to bed first. He downed his water and walked into his bedroom, where he climbed into bed, closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Velvet unlocked the front door and peered inside a little nervously, wondering just where her flatmate was. He wasn't here; he'd either gone to bed or was still out. She came inside and filled a glass of water to take to bed.

Wrestling her way, half-drunk, out of her dress, she thought about how to broach the subject of the corset with Rotor. She'd do it in the morning, she decided - it would be better to clear the air. She wasn't sure how he would react to what she had to say, but she hoped that he would be open-minded enough to accept it.

She rubbed her eyes and told herself to sleep. With that, she huddled under the sheets and relaxed.

Rotor turned over and looked sleepily at the window. Dawn had been ages ago: the sunlight flooded in, branches waved their leaves lazily in the breeze and punctuated the birdsong with rustling sounds. It was a beautiful morning.

He was a little hungover, but not too badly, and he rolled onto his back to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

He hadn't been able to sleep immediately. He couldn't help thinking about his encounter with Velvet the evening before and had finally, guiltily admitted to himself that it had made him extremely horny. He'd spat into his hand and reached under the covers, giving himself some home-grown relief in the hope that he'd be able to clear the turmoil out of his mind and put it behind him.

Laying here this morning, Rotor realised that his thoughts had turned, again and again, to that top, and although Velvet's body inside it had brought it to life, lent the delicious hardness under that silky fabric, it was the clothing itself that dominated his fantasies. He'd given in and thought things about it that made him sit up now and put his head in his hands. One thought was in in his head now, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He was a pervert.

The clean, innocent view of the day through his window seemed suddenly inappropriate, and he swung his legs out of bed. He might as well get up and keep busy. He found his bandolier and hung it on his shoulder, picked up his cap and put it backwards on his head and walked out into his workshop.

Rotor gritted his teeth as he heard Velvet's light footsteps coming down towards him and examined the circuitboard he was working on more closely. Please, don't talk to me, please, don't talk to me, he repeated in his head like a mantra.

"Good morning," she greeted softly. He mumbled something generic in response without taking his eyes off the board. He heard her clutter a little in the kitchen before coming back to sit on the other side of the table from him, a bowl of cereal in front of her. He squirmed.

"I think we need to talk," she said in a low voice. Rotor looked at her for a split second then took his cap off, half-flung it on the table and got up to walk across the room, his back turned to her.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he answered, rubbing his face. "There's something wrong with me, okay? I'm... dirty. Just drop it."

"It's something I want to admit to you, actually," she said. That threw him, and he glanced at her over his shoulder uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked, while somehow also conveying Don't humiliate me any more.

Velvet looked uncomfortable. "Can we talk somewhere we won't be heard?" she asked.

Rotor sucked air in through his teeth. "Let's go upstairs," he suggested gravely, and the two animals made their way up to the top floor, where Rotor had a balcony and a small, enclosed room. They sat down together up there, although Rotor's posture made it clear he still felt out of his depth.

His lodger cleared her throat and began. "You know the other night I told you I was going to the Boiler Room?"

Rotor looked over at her in surprise. Why are you bringing that up? He nodded tentatively.

"Well, I didn't. There's another club in Greenleaf, a very popular one that attracts people from miles around. They play similar music in there, but the main draw is that it's..." Velvet took a breath. "A fetish club." she rolled her eyes and grinned apologetically as she said it.

Rotor was agog. "A f-fetish club?!" Velvet looked shy and nodded. "What, you mean, like, whips and chains and... stuff?"

"More than just that, really. There are all kinds of people there. The odd whip and chain, perhaps, but I go there and when I go, I wear a corset - like you saw me in yesterday."

Rotor turned red and glanced away. "So that thing you were wearing... Was a fetish thing," he said, not sure whether that was a statement or a question. So he'd been turned on by a fetish. Did that make it better or worse?

"Yes," she admitted simply. "I like them, I think they're great."

You're not the only one, Rotor thought. "Uhm... Okay," he answered, still not sure how right it was to admit it. "But how can that be..." Rotor searched for the right word. "good for you?"

Velvet smiled. "Wearing a corset," she explained, her words slow as she sought the best way of describing the feeling, "pulls your whole body inwards, it restrains you, and makes it so you have to be careful with every move you make. It reduces your ability to take a deep breath - you can only breathe shallow. It feels like being bound up, controlled. And a girl likes to be flattered," she added, breaking eye contact with him for a moment. "I think you can imagine I get a positive response from others who appreciate the same thing."

This made sense to Rotor. "So you weren't offended that I liked it?" he asked, deciding at last that honesty might be the best way forward. Velvet shook her head with a demure smile and he leaned back on his hands, feeling a little more at ease with the situation. He looked over at Velvet. "I can't believe it, though. So that means I'm a fetishist?" Again, a nod and a smile. "That just sounds, like, really extreme."

"Oh, don't you believe it, sunshine!" Velvet answered, laughing. "There are other people who're much worse!"

Rotor gave her a querying look. "Liiike...?"

"Well," Velvet said, gazing out of the window for an example, before looking back at him. "The small, quiet lizard I saw at the club. She was tied up in silk ropes, gagged, suspended in the air from the ceiling in a large cage, and a big, heavily-muscled ox pierced her skin - including her face - with hypodermic needles!"

Rotor's face registered shock. "That's horrible! Didn't she struggle?" to which Velvet shook her head firmly.

"Not a whisper of complaint!"

Rotor looked out of the window too, settling this in his head. Finally he turned to her. "So, what I felt yesterday. It's really okay?" Velvet confirmed this with a nod. Rotor sat forward and leaned his arms on his knees and shook his head in disbelief. "It's crazy!" he said, half-laughing.

"You've just got a thing for corsets. But not a word to anyone that I go to this club, okay?" Velvet asked. "I can't even imagine what Tony would say if he knew where I really go. He was worried enough last night about me going to the Boiler Room."

"Your secret's safe with me," Rotor confirmed. He stretched his feet out and looked at them. Finally he cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, I'd better get some breakfast," he said, and reached out his hand to help Velvet up. He led the way downstairs.

"Rotor, are we cool now?" her question floated down to him and he smiled.

"Yeah," he answered. "We're cool."

Rotor stood alone in his workshop, busy checking out the roboticizer capsule. He stood back from it and appraised it. He had been gradually gathering pieces of these machines for several years and hoped, eventually, either to build a complete one or learn enough to build one of his own. He hadn't found a main chamber before so this had been a major haul, if a little greasy. He stroked his chin and thought how this piece would fit together with the other pieces he had.

He thought about Velvet, too. He was glad they'd had that talk, it had helped him level yesterday in his head. He knew, though, that if he watched her do it again, he'd get that same, chest-tightening, all-consuming desire for sex. He wondered how she felt about him, whether sex with her would be on the cards.

He wondered how experienced she was, and that if they did do it, whether she'd realise he was a virgin.

TO BE CONTINUED...