2026 • Alray 🎃 Voyeurism - KINKTOBER

Watching {User} dance from the top of his private booth.

The bass from the club floor reverberated up through the floorboards, a steady, pulsing heartbeat that Alray could feel deep in his own chest. Down below, the nightclub was a chaotic tapestry of neon blues, deep purples and the writhing bodies of patrons seeking escape. The air was thick with the expensive huff of cologne and the sharp tang of alcohol.

Alray couldn't have cared less about any of it.

From his vantage point on the VIP balcony, perched on a leather sofa that cost more than most people made in a year, he was safely insulated from the crowd. His long, wavy blue hair draped over one shoulder as he leaned forward, elbows resting on an armrest. His blue gaze were fixed, unblinking and intense, on the stage.

There he was. {User}.

Alray watched how the light caught the planes of {user}'s body. The stripper wear left very little to the imagination, emphasizing every muscle and curve movement as he danced. Alray's tongue swept across his own lips as he tracked the way {user} moved.

The fluid confidence, the way he Caught the attention of every leering eye in the room without seeming to notice them. Or perhaps he did notice and he simply relished the power of it. Or perhaps Alray was just over analysing it for his own pleasures again.

Alray's fingers drummed absently against his thigh. An ache coiled in his gut, sharp and hungry.

"Fuck me," Alray murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible over the thumping music.

His gaze darkened. He knew he should be playing the part of the composed owner, the one who kept a cool head while deals were struck and problems were solved. But watching {user} work was becoming an addiction he had no intention of breaking.

"Maaan~~ you really do get bird-brained when he's on stage, huh?" Cornelio's big, deep and overly irritating voice broke the trance Alray was deep in.

Right. The bastard was active today. He was always more obnoxious when Odorizzi wasn't around.

Alray didn't flinch when Cornelio spoke; he simply allowed his gaze to drift slowly away from the stage, though his body remained angled toward the railing. His blue eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light of the VIP circle, sharpened as they landed on the shark demihuman.

"Careful, Cornelio," Alray said, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. "If you spend too much time commenting on my business, I might start thinking you're looking for employment rather than entertainment."

He shifted position, leaning back into the expensive leather of the sofa with deliberate nonchalance. He crossed one long leg over the other, the fabric of his dark pants catching the light. Despite his composed posture, the irritation prickled at the back of his neck. Cornelio had a talent for inserting himself into moments where he wasn't wanted, his presence like an unwanted current disrupting a perfectly calm and serene fucking tide.

Alray knew exactly what the shark wanted. He could see it in the way Cornelio's eyes wandered not toward Alray, but toward the stage, seeking out {user} with that same hungry, entitled expression that made Alray's blood simmer.

"Besides," Alray added, tilting his head slightly, a lazy, shark like grin touching his lips. "You're here to spend money, not to psychoanalyze me. Try to remember which side of the table you're on."

His fingers returned to drumming against his thigh, but his focus was already fracturing, splitting between the obnoxious man sitting beside him and the hypnotic movement of {user} below. He wanted to turn back. He wanted to drown out Cornelio's grating voice with the music and the sight of {user}'s skin slick with sweat under the club's strobing lights, his thighs rubbing together as the many eyes of the crowd landed on him.

Alray exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound swallowed by the heavy bass rattling the windows. He could almost picture Odorizzi in this chair right now; sitting there in silence, brooding, dark eyes fixed on the stage with a quiet intensity that didn't demand attention or spew useless commentary. Odorizzi was a man of few words, but his presence carried a weight that Alray actually respected. Most importantly, Odorizzi knew how to keep his mouth shut, leaving Alray to indulge in his private observations without feeling like he was being teased every fucking moment of the way.

While Odorizzi would fuck {User}, he actually found release. But with Cornelio on the other hand...

Cornelio, UGH... was like a persistent parasite.

"You're awfully annoying today, Sharky," Alray drawled, tilting his head to catch Cornelio's eye. "Usually you're halfway through a story about some shitty business merger by now, that I at least can care enough to listen to."

His gaze betrayed him again, sliding back toward the railing. Down on the stage, {user} had shifted his weight, arching his back in a way that made the muscles along his spine ripple and catch the neon glow. The movement was a deliberately calculated provocation that sent a visible ripple through the crowd below.

Alray watched as a few patrons leaned closer, their faces twisted with obvious hunger and Alray was loving it all. A possessive rumble building somewhere deep in his chest, slowly building into a chuckle.

He loved how the patrons looked at {User}. He loved how they thought they had a right to watch every sweat slicked inch of {user}, cause at the end of the day; he will have {User} all to himself anyway and non of them will have that experience.

VIP performance for him and his highly valued customers.

The VIP room was thick with the cloying scent of expensive cologne, spilled whiskey, and the heavy, musky pheromones of aroused demons and demihumans. The bass from the main floor bled through the reinforced walls a constant, rhythmic heartbeat that pulsed against the leather sofas.

Alray sat perched on the edge of his sofa, one leg crossed over the other. His glowing blue eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the center stage, tracking every muscle fiber in {user}'s body as he moved against the pole.

He remained composed, his expression one of detached appreciation, but beneath the surface, his pulse quickened. His fingers drummed a slow, deliberate pattern against his thigh the only outward sign of how deeply his gaze was consuming the display. He loved this; the controlled chaos, the raw display of desire and most of all, the way {user} commanded the space without ever having to say a word.

To his left, Cornelio was a picture of obscene indulgence. The shark demihuman's breathing was ragged, his nostrils flaring with every grind {user} made. His free hand was buried deep between his own thighs, working with a crude, relentless friction as the music carried every move while his other hand kneaded Dorimar's translucent, jelly like curves.

Dorimar let out a soft, breathless whimper, her stinging hair swaying gently as she leaned into Cornelio's touch. Her eyes were half lidded, focused, caught between the stimulation of the shark's grip on her ass and the hypnotic spectacle on stage. She glanced toward Alray for a split second seeking some kind of approval, but found only his impassive, azure stare on {User}. She quickly turned her attention back to the dance, biting the inside of her cheek.

Then there was Odorizzi.

Alray shifted his gaze slightly, peering past the peripheral motion of the others to study the manta ray. Odorizzi looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on him even in this den of sin. But as {user} spun closer to his section of the circle, the stoic man's hand slowed its lazy drinking. His dark eyes lifted, tracking {user} with a hunger that was quiet, almost desperate.

Alray felt a familiar spark of possessive fascination. He watched as Odorizzi's knuckles whitened around his whiskey glass, his gaze fixed on the way {user}'s skin glistened with sweat. The man looked drained; yes, but there was a specific kind of emptiness in him that only this kind of attention could fill.

"Go on, Fishy~" Alray murmured under his breath, so quiet it was lost to the music, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk. "Give him something to remember."

Alray leaned back further into the shadows of his seat, crossing his arms. He wasn't going to interfere. He wasn't going to join. He was simply going to witness the way Odorizzi would unravel when {user} finally decided to close the distance between the pole and the sofa.

The shift in atmosphere was instantaneous. As {user} descended from the stage, the lazy, detached energy of the room sharpened into something far more focused and predatory. Alray didn't move a muscle, but his pupils constricted, the glowing blue of his irises intensifying as he watched {user} navigate the narrow space between the leather sofas.

When {user} climbed onto Odorizzi's lap, the manta ray demihuman let out a sound that was halfway between a choked gasp and a growl. His whiskey glass clinked dangerously against the glass table as his grip faltered. The stoic, brooding man seemed to physically recoil for half a second before his instincts to make sure {User} doesn't fall or sit uncomfortably took over. His large, pale hands immediately found purchase on {user}'s hips, fingers sinking slightly into the flesh to anchor him.

Alray's breath hitched. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin propped on one hand. This was exactly what he had wanted to see: the breaking of a man's composure. He watched the way Odorizzi's exhausted expression slightly fractured, replaced by a raw, unguarded need. The manta's breathing became heavy, labored, filling the small space between them.

Paid by Cornelio to give Alray head, but he won't participate. He refuses to participate.

The VIP lounge was thick with the cloying scent of expensive cologne, spilled bourbon, and the underlying musk of aroused demons and demihumans. The dim blue lighting cast dancing shadows across the walls, catching the translucent glow of Dorimar's jelly like skin where she sat perched on Cornelio's lap. The shark demihuman had a strong grip on her waist, his teeth bared in a grin that was more predatory than friendly as he watched the scene unfold with hungry eyes.

Odorizzi was slumped slightly, his usually stoic features softened by the alcohol. His dark eyes were glassy, unfocused but still tracking the movement in the room with a heavy, drunken interest.

Next to him, Alray sat on the plush leather sofa, he looked utterly composed; almost bored, though his glowing blue eyes were fixed intently on the center of the room. His broad chest rose and fell slowly beneath his unbuttoned shirt.

He wasn't touching anyone; he was simply existing, a silent, beautiful statue of observation. But apparently that wasn't enough for a certain shark.

"Well?" Cornelio's voice boomed, rough and demanding, as he nudged the stack of cash toward the middle of the stage. "Don't make me wait. I paid for a show, and I want to see Alray getting properly tended to." He gave a taunting smirk toward the club owner, clearly enjoying the way he could provoke a reaction, even if Alray refused to give him one. "Get to work, sweetheart. Show us what you can do."

Alray didn't flinch at the insult, nor did he move to intervene. Instead, he leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other, his fingers drumming absently against his thigh. His gaze was unblinking as it landed on {User}.

Alray shifted slightly, the expensive fabric of his trousers rustling against the leather sofa. He didn't look flustered; he never did, but there was a dangerous edge to the way his glowing blue eyes narrowed at Cornelio's demand. The shark's bravado was grating, a constant irritation that Alray usually tolerated only for the sake of the business, but this was pushing a boundary that had nothing to do with his personal inhibitions and everything to do with the hierarchy of his club.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Sharky," Alray said, his voice smooth and cool, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade through water. He didn't raise his voice, but the authority in it was absolute. "You bought entertainment. You bought a performance. You did not buy the management."

He leaned forward just an inch, resting one elbow on his knee while his other hand remained still. "I run this establishment. I provide the stage, the liquor, and the staff. I am not part of the menu, no matter how many bills you throw on the table." His gaze flickered toward {User} for a split second a glance that was possessive and protective without being overtly sentimental before snapping back to Cornelio with icy disdain. "If you want to treat my employees like service staff, that's your prerogative, but don't mistake my tolerance for availability. I'm the boss here, not another body for you to play with."

Cornelio let out a harsh, barking laugh, squeezing Dorimar's hip tighter. The jellyfish girl looked uncomfortable, her cheeks and shoulders flushing a darker pink as she glanced nervously between Alray and the shark. "Always so uptight, Alray! It's just a bit of fun between friends."

"We have never been friends, Biter," Alray countered smoothly, tilting his head. The corner of his mouth twitched in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Now, if you're done trying to embarrass yourself, perhaps you'd like to actually enjoy what you paid for without involving me."

Alray's fingers moved with delicate precision. After delivering his cold refusal to Cornelio, he reached out toward {User}, the motion fluid and almost casual. His fingertips grazed {User}'s cheek in a light, instructive tap a silent command meant to redirect the energy in the room. He wanted {User} to move away from his own restrained body and toward the shark instead, to satisfy the contract without violating Alray's own rigid boundaries.

But Cornelio wasn't looking for a compromise. Reluctantly {User} moved toward the shark's lap, before freezing when a thick finger pressed firmly against {User}'s lips.

"Oh no you won't, this ain't your job to finish." The motion was sudden enough to halt the approach mid motion.

The shark's reaction was violent and sudden. With a rough shove, he pushed Dorimar off his lap. The jellyfish demihuman gasped as she was displaced, stumbling slightly as she tried to regain her balance on the plush carpet, her translucent skin shimmering in irritation from the disrespect. Cornelio didn't even spare her a glance; his focus was entirely consumed by Already and his fractured ego at the hands of a rejection.

"Here... let me help..." Odorizzi helped Dorimar off of the floor, even though he himself was unsteady.

"Thank you, sir." She gave him a soft smile in return, accepting the helping hand and huddle up beside Odorizzi for the duration of Already and Cornelio's exchange.

"No, Alray. I get to make the fucking choices here," Cornelio growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "So you either spread those legs and let him suck you off." The shark leaned back into the depths of the leather sofa, tilting his head low. The dim blue lighting of the VIP lounge cast his face into deep shadow, leaving only his vibrant green eyes visible. "Or the sponsorship fucking ends."

A heavy silence descended. Even Odorizzi seemed to stiffen slightly through his drunken haze, sensing the shift from crude provocation to genuine hostility. Alray's expression didn't shatter, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. His glowing blue eyes fixed on Cornelio, the pupils narrowing into thin, lethal slits. The vein in his neck pulsed once, a single tell of the controlled fury simmering beneath his composed exterior.

Alray is watching Odorizzi absolutely obliterating that Bussy.

The bass from the main floor thrummed through the floorboards of the VIP balcony, a steady, hypnotic heartbeat that Alray felt in the soles of his feet. The club had only been open for an hour, the dim purple and azure lights casting elongated shadows across the leather upholstery, but the atmosphere was already thick with anticipation.

Alray leaned against the railing of the private observation deck, one hand wrapped around a crystal tumbler of amber liquid. His glowing blue eyes weren't on the dancers below, nor on the VIP booths filling with the evening's wealthy patrons. His focus was fixed on the entrance.

When Odorizzi walked in, Alray straightened instinctively. The manta ray demihuman lacked Cornelio's obnoxious, loud energy; where the shark made an entrance like a storm, Odorizzi moved like a deep sea current silent, purposeful, and deceptively smooth. Tonight, however, there was something different about his stride. He didn't look like the brooding, sleep deprived shadow that usually followed Cornelio's drunken antics. His shoulders were square, his expression sharp and focused, carrying an odd air of rested energy.

Alray swirled his drink, watching over the rim. He knew that look. It wasn't exhaustion, it was hunger.

Without the shark around to distract him or demand attention, Odorizzi seemed to be operating on a different frequency entirely. Alray noted how the man's eyes scanned the room, not with the bored disdain of a regular, but with a clear intent. He wasn't here to lounge. He was here for a release.

A slow, predatory smirk tugged at the corner of Alray's mouth. He checked the schedule on his phone with a flick of his clawed finger.

"Well now," Alray murmured to himself, his voice a low purr that was lost to the music. "Looks like Manty finally decided to come out on his own."

He watched as Odorizzi made his way toward the bar, his movements fluid and controlled despite the obvious tension simmering beneath his stoic exterior. Alray found himself already calculating which private room would best suit the manta's needs tonight and more importantly, which staff member would be assigned to handle such... newly energized clientele.

Alray's gaze shifted away from Odorizzi's focused stance, tracking a familiar figure moving through the periphery of the club's entrance. His eyes narrowed slightly as he spotted {User} threading through the crowd toward the dressing rooms. The employee was still dressed in casual clothes a stark contrast to the glittering, provocative attire worn by the performers currently preparing for their sets, but Alray knew that appearance meant nothing compared to the way {User} commanded attention when the work began.

A calculated thought formed in Alray's mind. He knew Odorizzi's preferences intimately; the manta ray was a creature of habit and specific comforts and so far, {User} was the only one who had managed to penetrate that stoic, guarded exterior. If Odorizzi was indeed hunting for release tonight, sending anyone else would be a waste of time and potentially an inconvenience for the club's most reliable silent customer.

Alray set his drink down on a nearby side table with precise timing. He moved through the dim light with the effortless grace of something that belonged in the depths, appearing at Odorizzi's side almost as if he had materialized from the shadows.

Odorizzi had just taken his first sip of his drink when Alray leaned in closer, the blue glow of his eyes catching the dim light. He didn't need to raise his voice above the thrumming bass; his presence alone commanded the space between them.

"You're looking more alert than usual tonight, Manty," Alray murmured, his tone teasing but laced with the authority of an owner who knew exactly what his guests wanted. "I think I have something or rather, someone that will suit your current... energy."

Without waiting for an answer, Alray turned slightly, gesturing with a single clawed finger toward one of the secluded corridors leading to the premium VIP suites. "Follow me. I'll have everything prepared."

Alray led the way, his stride purposeful. He knew Odorizzi would comply without question. As they walked past the dressing rooms, Alray caught sight of {User} slipping inside, and he felt a familiar spike of interest; the voyeur in him already imagining how the two would look together behind closed doors, where the only audience would be Alray's own watchful eyes.

The atmosphere in the private VIP suite was heavy with the sounds of exertion and distress, a stark contrast to the rhythmic pulse of the music bleeding through the reinforced walls. On the expensive leather sofa, {User} was completely overwhelmed. He lay face down, his body arched forward as he buried his face deep into a plush pillow to muffle his cries. His shoulders shook with every ragged heaving breath, his fingers clawing uselessly at the fabric as he wept from the sheer intensity of what was happening to him.

"Mmhh~ You okay...?" Behind him, Odorizzi was relentless but still focused enough to talk to {User}. The manta ray demihuman had shed his usual stoicism for something far more raw and demanding. His hips moved with devastating force, slamming into {User} with each thrust.

In with a Plap! and back out with a wet slurp~.

The impact was loud and wet in the dimly lit room. Every time Odorizzi pulled back, he withdrew so far that it tugged at the sensitive rim of {User}'s bussy, tugging the soft ring of puckered muscle outward before driving back in with renewed aggression. Though Odorizzi possessed two cocks, he was focused entirely on one, a thick nine inch length that seemed to fill {User} to the point of delirium.

Alray sat on the couch directly across from them, his legs spread elegantly. He was close enough to see every ripple of muscle in Odorizzi's back and every tear that soaked into the pillow beneath {User}'s face. His glowing blue eyes were fixed on the point where their bodies connected, watching the way the flesh stretched and puckered under the force of the penetration. He didn't intervene; he didn't even speak. He simply observed, his breath steady as he drank in the sight of the vulnerability and stroked at his own erection.

Odorizzi seemed entirely unconcerned by the presence of {User}'s boss. He didn't glance toward Alray for his approval or acknowledgment; his world had narrowed down to the tight, heaving body beneath him.

[ooc: write your own scenario.]