Page 28 of The Pleasure Zone

Her cunt clenched when he didn’t flinch. He emitted a slight gasp, then licked his full lips. A sign that he was clearly turned on. Hungry for the crack of the bullwhip against his caramel skin, starved for release. Her mouth watered to give him what he desired. Unfortunately, she needed access to the Love Tombs. It was the only place where bondage and lashings were allowed.

And she needed entry.

But, tonight, she would push the envelope to the edge. She’d be creative.

Her tongue traced over her cherry-red-painted lips, relieved this fine-looking hunk of rugged, hard-bodied flesh wasn’t someone she knew. That had been one of her greatest concerns when she’d initially interviewed for membership at the club. Being recognized.

The owner had assured her that everyone who entered The Pleasure Zone had something to lose, and so, so, much more to gain. No one wanted their sexual proclivities on display for the outside world. So discretion was more than an expectation. It was a requirement. One heavily enforced.

Well, with the hefty yearly membership fees charged up front, it just ought to be.

She cracked her whip again.

Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” played as she dropped down and spread her thighs, her crotch inches away from Hazel Eyes. Reaching in, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and ground her pussy in his face, her sweet musky sex, scenting his mouth and lips.

The horny men in the room went wild, barking and whistling. Envy flashed in eyes that ached for her, silently brooding that she’d chosen him out of the others. Without hesitation, Hazel Eyes licked over the leather of her crotch.

The men in the room groaned low, and squirmed in their seats, painfully aroused and watching. Hazel Eyes groaned over her pussy as he bit at the leather, stimulating her clit. Oh, he wanted to play? Well so did she. She reached for his sweet, brown man nipple and pinched it, before leaning back and pressing her heel into his chest.

She felt her orgasm twirling around the pit of her pussy when he slowly lifted her foot and kissed the sole of her boot. Her mouth parted on a silent moan of pleasure. Yes, yes, oh yes…she would fuck him tonight. Or maybe not.

Rising up, she lifted herself from the floor, her hands swept up her undulating hips she worked her way backward. Then twirled her body, her pussy pulsing, and her whip cracking wildly as she shook her hips across the stage, bending over and clapping her ass. She reached for a candle, then slowly turned—a sly, seductive grin spreading over her beautifully glossed lips—as she blew the candle out, gyrating her way back to Hazel Eyes.

His breath hitched in anticipation as if he knew before she did it. Splashed the hot wax up his chest, splashing up his neck and over his left nipple. His dick grew excruciatingly hard. She splashed more wax, and a growl so deep, so primal, ripped out from his chest over the music.

She was Pain.

Not her real name. But

the one she used whenever she wanted to indulge her dark side. And tonight she was feeling dark and sultry. She loved walking over on the wild side. Loved latex and leather. Loved whips and chains. Loved creating scenarios and role-playing. She loved unleashing her freaky side.

And she loved freaky men.

Masculine. Muscular. Willing. Obedient. Submissive.

Men.

With a masochistic side.

For years, she hadn’t ever considered herself a real Sadomasochist or a Dominatrix. It had been all play, until two years. After training vigorously under a lesbian Dominatrix who went by the name of Cum Master. She’d taught her the art of the whip. Taught her about the types of whips, and their use. Taught her how to inflict the right amount of pain to bring on excruciating pleasure. Thanks to the Cum Master, she’d learned the art of sadism.

“Men try to be something they can never be…”

Her whip cracked again. She bounced to the beat, and hummed the lyrics in her head. She loved turning the tables on men. They needed to feel what it was like to be objectified. Defiled. Needed to know how to submit to a woman. It wet her pussy. She loved administering pain and pleasure. Loved the sound of a whip cracking. Loved the sound of a paddle smacking across the muscled-ass of a man, then lovingly licking over the stings, before biting into each ass cheek.

She loved ass-play, licking and fingering and fucking a man’s tight ass.

Oh how she loved it. She was team-ass licking. Team-ass fucking. Team freak-nasty. Things she could never be, or do, at home. Filthy things her lover would never go for, let alone understand.

So for the last two years, she’d been creeping on her fiancé with men who craved kink. Her latest kinky sidepiece was a married man whom she’d met on an online sex site. He’d been looking for ass-play and prostate stimulation—something his prudish wife abhorred. Pain had responded to his ad with hopes of licking his ass and stimulating his P-spot. And the rest was history. They crept when he wanted his ass slid into with her fingers and tongue, whenever their schedules allowed for it.

This was her first time at The Pleasure Zone. But she already wanted more. She wanted access to more floors. She wanted to indulge more of her desires. Everything about what she’d seen so far made her body throb and her pussy moist.

She was a freak.

She craved hot-nasty fucking.

Lord, God, help her!

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