“I… I’ve never. I’m not a lesbian,” Diana stammered.
Abruptly Debbie turned and slapped Diana’s face. The drenched female crumbled again to the tile. “I don’t give a shit what you like and don’t like." Pushing Diana’s body back to the wet floor, Debbie secured Diana’s hands above her head and straddled her face.
Surprisingly, Diana found the wet aroused pussy of her mistress sweetly aromatic. It was unlike the musky scent of a man. Without further instruction, she began to lap at the swollen lips. The thick honey taste ignited unfamiliar desires. Diana could feel her own pussy spasm against the long green tube that remained within her. She understood female anatomy and began to tongue Debbie’s clitoris. It didn’t take long before her mistress was convulsing with her cum coating Diana’s nose and chin.
Standing, Debbie cruelly added, “Look at my juice all over your face, you just can’t stay clean, can you, slut?”
“No, Mistress Debbie.”
“You will now be punished for arguing with me.”
Diana didn’t question Debbie’s verdict. She instinctively knew it would only worsen her punishment. “Push the hose up your ass.”
Diana shuddered as she pulled the hose from her clenched pussy. Lifting her ass with her knees spread wide she tried to obey. However, her anus tightened, making the insertion difficult. “Please don’t turn on the water." Diana begged as she loosened the hole with one hand and pushed the hose with the other.
“Hold it there. If it comes out before I say, you are back in the box." Debbie’s grin increased Diana’s quaking. The cold water cleansed her ass, bloating her cavity and creating intense discomfort.
Next, Diana squatted over a drain. Mistress Debbie forced Diana to eliminate the fluid from her anus and bladder. More women entered the shower. The increased audience and associated noises added to her degradation and humiliation. If she weren’t so dehydrated, there would have been more tears.
Once Debbie was satisfied that Diana completely eliminated the fluid and wouldn’t shit all over herself, she hosed Diana down again. Next, two club sluts helped Diana stand and led her, on weak legs, to the next room.
Diana’s eyes adjusted to the florescent lighting, viewing the concrete floor and cinder blocked walls. A trail of wet foot prints revealed her path, as she stepped into the industrial room and inhaled the strong odor of disinfectant. Memories of her high school locker room flooded her thoughts. Back then, she was a vibrant cheerleader. The mirror confirmed the demise of that girl. Staring back through vacant blue eyes, Diana recognized that today, she is a weakened, abused club slut. The total loss of self, created a deep emotional void. Yet, the total loss of control was strangely erotic and rousing.
“Make her look the part. No food, Master Liam wants her in his office when you are done." With those orders, their mistress left the three sluts alone. The tension in the room dissipated with her departure.
A cool metal shelf hung under a large mirror. It held hundreds of partially used cosmetics lying in disarray. Diana peered into the mirror seeing three strangers. On her left she saw a redhead with very large breasts and a disproportionately small waist. This slut stood at least six inches taller than Diana. The blonde on her right was also tall and appeared young with shining brown eyes. They both wore small transparent white t-shirts, monogrammed with CI in red letters. Earlier Diana noticed their short black skirts, high-heeled shoes, and padlocked collars.
It was the person in the middle that alarmed Diana. She hoped it was the lighting that caused her coloring to be somewhere between ash and gray. However, if lighting were the cause, wouldn’t the others have similar pallor? Viewing her battered naked body, she trembled. Her cold wet form was the most obvious cause of her shaking; yet it was the fear from memories and the unknown which increased the intensity. The reflection displayed evidence of prior abuse: purple and green markings. It created the canvas for Mistress Debbie’s newly inflicted red welts. Her long, wet, blonde hair hung in tangled knots and dripped droplets of icy water down her back.
The tall redhead spoke, as her gaze locked with Diana’s in the mirror. “Welcome to the Inferno." Without warning her fingers plunged into Diana’s cunt, teasing her swollen lips, and pulled out. “Candy, check this out, she’s dripping."
Diana reached to the shelf for support, as the shock induced tears.
The brown-eyed blonde, grabbed the redhead’s hand and sucked her fingers. “She is as sweet as syrup." Both women laughed. Candy offered advice, “We’re supposed to get you ready for Master Liam. You’d better keep pumping that cream, because he’ll work you over real good if you don’t respond exactly how he likes." The women giggled and nodded their heads in unison.
Diana’s knees wobbled as she fought to remain upright. “I think there’s been a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.”
They grinned in response. Desiree, the redhead, said, “Ya, Bitch, every one of us said the same thing. But it ain’t no mistake." Fingering the small padlock on Diana’s collar, she continued, “Your wet pussy confirms it. You’re here, because just like us, you’re a pain slut. It turns you on. In addition, bitch, you are here. Enjoy it, because this is as good as it gets.”
“True that, sister." Candy leaned close, like she was telling Diana a secret, “It can get a lot worse.”
Next the redhead handed Diana scissors. “Now cut it off.”
Diana stared at the scissors with a complete lack of comprehension. “Cut what off?”
“Your hair.”
Desiree’s words brought sobs from Diana’s chest. Her shoulders shook as she closed her eyes. “Please, no.”
“We are just following orders. You learn real quick around here, to do that. Mistress Debbie said it needs to be short and red.”
Grasping at straws, Diana knelt to Desiree’s feet. “Please, please don’t make me cut my hair. If I can just talk to Liam, I can get this all straightened out.”
“Candy, did you hear that?”
“I sure did,
Liam
!" Laughing Candy pulled Diana up by her, about to be cut, hair. “We like you – so listen nice and close, his name is Master Liam. Every cock-carrying bastard is now your master. Failure to acknowledge even the garbage man by that title will result in punishment like you have never imagined." Putting the scissors in Diana’s hands, Candy continued, “And don’t be kneeling at another slut’s feet or they will eat you up and spit you out. Save that reverence for people that own you." She looked at the scissors in Diana’s hands, “Now get busy, we’ve got work to do. We’re not getting our asses whipped because you have some misconception that
Liam
will save yours.”
Each section or club, within the Inferno, contains different music, different décor, different themes and the same obvious commodity. The one where he settled fit Troy’s current state. The white walls and ceiling provided the perfect canvas for the display of lights. Today they were blue, shining up the walls, through gauzy curtains that created private spaces, and highlighting the stage and bar. Women moved on stage to the sound of jazz, their gyrations soulful and seductive. Their costumes weren’t the waitress’ attire of short black skirts, high heels, and tight white t-shirts. The dancers’ outfits sparkled in the stage lights, as the dancers slowly revealed additional flesh and less shimmer.
Troy wasn’t sure what kept bringing him back to this BDSM Club. He guessed it was the girl that continued to infiltrate his thoughts. Besides, he was at a total loss when it came to his fiancée. Troy wondered if he could even call Diana that anymore. It had been four days since he’d stormed out of her apartment. He hadn’t talked to her since. So, as he watched the blonde on stage spread her legs and masturbate in rhythm to the sound of saxophones, he justified his impending behavior. Diana’s note said she cheated. If she left him, was this really cheating? His twitching cock didn’t need more permission.
Upon arrival, he asked for Clinton. Another large tip and Clinton promised to have Troy’s requests quickly fulfilled. For now, Troy sat, ate, watched, and contemplated. Truthfully, he wasn’t hungry. Nevertheless, he assumed his leftovers could provide some club slut with her daily nutrients. It was his goodwill gesture for the day, besides the salty fries mixed well with the cold beer.
Directly after his flight, Troy went to Diana’s apartment. It hadn’t changed since Saturday night. He wondered if the police should become involved. But, then he questioned the case and clues. Was there really evidence suggesting foul play? Or would the CPD confirm Troy’s fears: she left him willingly. Did he want to know?
At least, he’d contacted Liam. He didn’t ask him about Diana, but did tell him he wanted to talk to him in person. They were supposed to meet later tonight at the sports bar, the one where Cindy works. Liam said he had some work, but hoped he could be there by ten. With multiple hours to spare, Troy decided he needed some diversion. Nicole fit the bill well.
The pretty waitress kneeling before him brought Troy out of his inner trance. “Master Troy, Master Clinton sent me to you." Her body bowed as her lips touched his shiny leather loafers.
“Rise and tell me your message." It wasn’t taking Troy long to figure out this master/slave stuff. Each interaction strengthened his affection for the new role. How could any man not get off with females submitting to his every whim?
Lifting her head, she assumed the position he’d witnessed many times. Sitting on her bent legs, knees spread, chest out, and hands behind her back. The short skirt allowed full view of her glistening pussy. That was part of the rush. Troy marveled at the pleasure these females obtained from their role.
“Master Clinton said that I am to take you to room fifteen. It is ready. But, first Master, I am to offer myself. You may use me as you like.”
“Thank you, what is your name?”
“Savannah.”
“Thank you, Savannah, I may take that offer another time. Currently I am ready to go to room fifteen.”
“Yes, Master." With that, she stood and waited for Troy to gather his jacket, take another sip of his beer, and follow her.
Did she look disappointed? Troy reasoned that the night was young and the rooms were filling. Savannah would have many willing cocks to serve before she retired for the night, if she retired for the night. Didn’t Clinton say that was a possibility?
Room fifteen was nicer than the average service room. It has an actual bed with clean sheets, not just a mattress on the floor. Of course, the bed was a four poster, perfect for binding a female. Per Troy’s instruction, the room was filled with loud music and his requested slut was tied, naked, and spread eagle on the bed. Her eyes were blindfolded but he decided against the gag, although Clinton offered some interesting designs.
When he showed Troy the penis gag, even Clinton laughed at Troy’s response. “I think I want my cock to be the one she’s deep throating." Yes, Troy was getting good at this. He tried to keep his thoughts away from his fantasy. Truly, he wished it was Diana tied to the bed. However, entering the room and seeing Nicole, his cock wasn’t displeased with the substitute.
Savannah made one more offer. “Perhaps Master Troy, you would like two sluts to service you this evening?”
He contemplated the offer, but he had something special for Nicole. “That is an offer I promise to consider in the future. Goodbye, Savannah.”
She bowed her head and walked backwards out the door, closing it tight.
Troy removed his jacket and did a perfunctory scan of the room. The black glass bubble was in the corner near the door. He considered the positions necessary to shield Nicole and himself from the watchful eye of
big brother
.
Stripping to his boxers, he found the riding crop he’d requested and approached the bed. Nicole remained still and compliant. Troy wondered if she knew it was him. Did she recognize his voice?
Bending down to her ear, he spoke as he teased her tits with the tip of the crop. “Tell me, slave, are you happy to see me?”
The smile that simultaneously appeared as her body wiggled at the menacing touch, made Troy’s heart skip a beat. “Master Troy, I cannot see you.”
The sound of his name enlarged his already hard shaft and her cheekiness amused him. He playfully whipped her breasts with multiple quick strikes. She winced at the sting. The impact wasn’t hard or angry. The tone of his voice, revealed his playful attitude, “Then tell me, are you happy to hear me?"
Nicole’s body wreathed against the silk scarves. Troy trailed the tip of the crop along her skin, to her glistening pussy. “That should be obvious, Sir." She was right. The juices leaking from her slit, displayed her arousal. Creating the whistling sound, that resonates a split second before the crack of contact, Troy landed the crop on the delicate skin of her exposed cunt. Nicole cried out, “Oh, Master, please, that hurts.”
“I don’t believe you answered my question." Again, he taunted her with the crop.
“Yes, Master Troy, I am very happy to hear you." He removed the blindfold to see her beautiful green eyes. They stared directly into his soul and echoed the smile that lit her face. “And, to see you, Sir."
Wearing only her collar, Nicole’s body twitched in anticipation of Troy’s next move. He nipped at her deep red nipples. “Beg, slave. Beg for what you want.”
“Please Master, please fuck this unworthy slut.”
Troy laughed. “My, you are bold. Do you deserve my cock?”
“No. But I will do whatever you say to earn it.”
Walking back to a table with the various items he’d requested, Troy returned to Nicole’s field of vision with nipple clamps. Her eyes displayed a fear that her lips wouldn’t speak. “I believe these will help you remember to show me the proper respect.”
He watched the emerald green shine as her eyes filled with moisture. “Yes, Master, I am sorry. I deserve to be punished.”
Troy pinched and stretched each nipple, before inflicting the agony of a clamp on to the hardened nob. Her moans propelled his cock from the opening of his boxers. He climbed onto the bed and mounted her face.
Nicole sucked and sucked as Troy fucked her mouth. She took him completely, even though his length touched her throat. He contemplated pulling out and spraying her, but he remembered her earlier request for food and allowed her to drink his semen. Later Troy considered his thoughts of spraying her. He would never have even considered that with Diana. Yet, he knew Nicole would take it willingly. His new power left him uninhibited.