Chapter Text
Brienne
Brienne held the coffee cup in her hands, looking at the floor to avoid meeting Margaery’s eyes, “None of them are prepared to handle my ‘looks’,” she said, looking up at last. Her eyes were red, though she didn’t weep. “I give up, Marge. I’m swearing off men, dating, and sex,” She took a deep breath and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling.
Margaery watched her best friend in sympathy. They’d been close as sisters since meeting in college years ago. Even though outwardly so different, they were kindred spirits. Margaery’s money and good looks often led people to underestimate or try to use her, while Brienne’s appearance and aloofness meant few took the time to get to know her.
Once Margaery had gotten past Brienne’s forbidding exterior, she found herself taken with the tall woman’s direct manner and sense of honor, while Brienne was drawn to Margaery’s natural friendliness and insight into people.
When they’d been roommates at University they’d often stayed up all night talking about life, men, dating, sex, and their future hopes and dreams, often barely managing to drag themselves to morning classes.
At Margaery’s persisent encouragement, Brienne had gotten past being so self-conscious of her height and plain looks and begun dating several college boys. It had been fun at the time, but always more difficult for her than it was for her beautiful friend.
“Oh, Brie, you can’t give just give up on men! And especially not on sex. I know it seems impossible out there sometimes.” Margaery said, putting her dainty hand over Brienne’s larger one.
“I’m so tired of it all, though,” Brienne said, setting her cup down, “I just can’t pretend to be sociable, meek, girlie, anymore. How can I be happy suppressing so much of who I am, just so guys won’t feel threatened by my height? It's always been difficult, even before this,” She put her hand up to her cheek, brushing her fingers over the raised scar tissue there.
Less than two years ago, Brienne and her brother Galladon had been on their way to visit their father in the hospital after he’d suffered a stroke. A huge fogbank had come up suddenly on the coast road and they’d been involved in a horrible multi-car pile-up. Galladon had died of his injuries. The grief of losing his only son had almost certainly contributed to their father’s death in the hospital soon after.
Brienne had been the one driving, and though she hadn’t officially been at fault, she never got over the guilt. She’d refused the surgery that would have made the facial scarring less noticeable, choosing instead to wear the mark like a brand. She couldn’t understand why she’d lived, when her brother and father had not.
“You know that I wish you’d reconsider getting reconstructive surgery,” Margaery said, “But I realize you’re set on punishing yourself for the rest of your life no matter what I say. I just wish you didn’t have to feel so self-conscious as well. You’re lovely, and any man would be lucky to have you.”
“Hah,” Brienne said shortly, “But would I be lucky to have them? Who wants someone who feels like they’re ‘settling’ for you? I’m meant to be alone.”
“Stop that,” Marge said sternly, “I can accept that you need a break from dating, but I don’t think you need to be so alone. I mean, what about sex? Woman does not live by Hitachi alone…”
“Funny,” muttered Brienne, but smiled at her friend.
“We all need to be touched by another person sometimes. It often just seems too complicated, doesn’t it?” Marge commiserated, “But what if I told you there was a way to get that, but in such a way you needn’t feel self-conscious or have to worry about having a relationship? Somewhere you could go and just enjoy yourself.”
“It’s hard to imagine any place I would feel comfortable,” Brienne sighed “I hate to ask, but what do you have in mind?”
“Have you ever tried it with a stranger?” Margaery said, scooting her chair closer to Brienne.
“Tried what with a stranger?”
“You know…sex. Have you ever just hooked up with a stranger?”
“Yeah, and it was awful…the guy was disgusted when he got a close look at my gorgeous cheek.” Brienne scoffed.
“What if…what if you tried it while wearing a mask?” Margaery said.
Brienne frowned. “Are you mocking me now?”
“No. I’m talking about anonymity, fetishism.” The brunette looked at her, eyebrows arched.
Brienne smiled, suspecting a joke. “Marge…” she laughed.
“Brie, I’m talking about a place, a club, where people don’t know each other,” Margaery said, rushing to tell Brienne before she lost her nerve, “Everyone wears a mask and is forbidden to share personal information.”
“Okay, and…?” Brienne’s eyes were wide.
“And we have incredibly hot sex.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, maybe we engage in a little bondage. It’s a private club where you just have fun, without the torture of the ‘dating period.’.You could go there with me.” Margaery suggested.
Brienne narrowed her eyes. “A ‘little bondage?’”
“Okay, it’s a bondage club. It’s really fun, though!” Margaery could sense her friend’s curiosity, so she leaned in closer, “No names, just pseudonyms. You wear a mask the entire time and never, ever share any personal information.”
“The whole thing sounds weird. Isn’t bondage some weird kink that deviants are into? With like, hot pokers and stuff?”
“You’re thinking S and M, silly. Sado-Masochism can be done along with bondage, but this club is for bondage only. You can be a Domme or a submissive, and it’s totally sexy and safe. Everyone is tested first.”
“Tested?” Brienne sounded surprised.
“Yes, regularly tested… you know, for diseases and drugs. If you’re clean, you can participate. You can have different partners or just one partner for the entire season… And you get to choose what kind of things you prefer to do with your partner.”
Brienne was uneasy. “Putting aside the weird tying people up aspect of it, I’m not about to risk myself out there with a bunch of guys, tested or not.”
“Brie, it’s not a ‘bunch of guys’. Like I said, you can choose just one partner for the entire season if you want.” Margaery smiled encouragingly.
“Then it wouldn’t be casual, you’d get emotionally attached.”
“Not really. You’d never fall for someone you don’t even know. You’d have no idea what he’s really like, whether he’s a complete jerk or a sweet guy. You won’t even know whether he’s single or married.” Margaery said.
“Married? Which would make anyone with him his mistress…” Brienne shook her head, looking displeased.
“No, it’d make you his partner for the season. After that season you’d never see him again, unless you were both participating in the next season.” Margaery said, taking a sip of her tea.
“Season?” Brienne asked.
“That’s the time period including instruction and the experience.” Margaery rested her chin in her hand, looking at Brienne appealingly.
“Oh gods, I just don’t know… it sounds crazy.” Brienne got up and put her empty cup in the dishwasher.
Marge got up from her chair and placed her cup on the counter to pour more hot water into it. “It’s every Thursday night at The Sand. It’s wildly expensive… but I’d be so happy if you would consider it a gift and come for the new season with me.”
“No! Marge… that’s just… it’s insane, okay?” Brienne shook her head, but she was smiling at her friend, and Margaery knew she was at least considering it.
Jaime
“Someone might recognize me… The last thing I need is another scandal.” Jaime said as he lay down on the couch in his brother’s den, his long legs crossed at the ankles.
“Nonsense. This is a very selective fetish club, completely confidential, guaranteed. And you’d be wearing a mask the entire time." Tyrion said, "Come on, Jaime; it’s been two years since you stopped seeing our beloved cousin. You can’t keep your cock off the market for so long!”
“My ‘cock off the market’? My cock was never on the market, Tyrion. You’re being ridiculous” Jaime covered his eyes with his forearm and asked reluctantly, “Just how much do you pay for this ‘club’?”
“Only ten thousand for the entire season.” Tyrion said, leaning back in his recliner.
“Ten thousand? I could just hire a whore for every night of the week for that.” Jaime laughed.
“And that’s how you start a scandal. Imagine, Jaime Lannister, CEO of Casterly Bank, caught with a whore… Front page on every newspaper in the country. Father would be so proud.” Tyrion rolled his eyes.
“So you’re a member of this club?” Jaime asked.
“I was a member of the club, before I got engaged,” Tyrion said, “And let me tell you, it was the best, hottest sex I’ve ever had. Well, except with Tysha, of course.”
Jaime wished he wasn't having this conversation with his brother, but Tyrion was right. While he still wasn’t entirely past the pain of his break-up, he’d never been a man content with celibacy. Anonymous sex was possibly just what he needed.
“You might be right that I need something like this. I never thought I was interested in the kinky stuff, but you say it’s safe? No one’s going to try to string me up by my cock, right?”
“Well, I won't promise that, exactly,” Tyrion grinned, happy that Jaime was at least receptive to the hearing more. He was an absolute bear when he wasn't getting any.
“And it’s not a gay club, right? I mean, that’s okay for whoever wants it, but I’m only interested in women.”
“The club hosts seasons especially for bisexual or homosexual fun on different nights, but the one I’m talking about is mostly heterosexual play.”
“Mostly?”
“You just said it’s okay for whoever wants it,” Tyrion laughed, “there aren’t rules against same-sex contact, but those who want full-on play like that usually join a session just for that. You can’t be a prude when you’re thinking of being tied up and fucked by strangers, right? You will see both men and women getting sexed up for an audience.”
“I’m not fucking in front of people, Tyrion,” Jaime said, though the idea was secretly arousing. “Very well, I admit that you’ve got me intrigued. I might try the club, if it really is discreet… What’s it called again?”
“The Sand. Ellaria Sand, the woman behind the concept is a true visionary. Also, did I mention the part about the sex and bondage?” Tyrion said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Once or twice,” Jaime said drily, wondering what the hell he could be thinking, letting his little brother talk him into this.