The Pleasure Zone(29)

Taking a deep breath, Nairobia glanced at the neatly stacked pile of files on her desk, and decided she would only do what she could until she found herself someone to manage it all for her.

For now, she had a club to run. She had fantasies to fulfill, and orgasms to unleash.





TWELVE


Domineering and commanding, a whip snapped as O.C.A.D’s “Muse” pounded through the hidden speakers. The floor alit with burning candles, the stage flashed with red lights and sweet pussy and ass.

Sexy. Alluring. Five feet, eight inches of coca-brown flesh stood in the center of the stage in a black leather corset, black thong, black leather opera gloves, and six-inch, thigh-high black leather Louboutin boots. Her short sassy cut was hidden beneath a long black wig with blunt-cut bangs.

The sexy Scorpion pumped her pelvis, then swirled her hips in a hypnotic circle, her skin shimmering under the glow of the lights. Hands up over her head, she rolled her hips like that of an erotic dancer, and then sensually strutted the stage while her whip cracked against its floor, licking the wood. She stood at the edge of the stage and looked out into the crowd as if she were looking for someone in particular. Someone worthy. Someone utterly debauched and hungered for the whip.

She looked down.

And there he was right in front of her, gazing up at her. Bare-chested. In nothing more than black boxer briefs and Timberland boots. He was a hazel-eyed man with sideburns that curved along his jawline and a crooked smile, leaning over on the stage and staring directly in her eyes as she slowly moved her hips, the leather of her whip snapping mere centimeters from his handsomely rugged face.

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.