Chapter 5

"I feel really guilty about what I did to you this afternoon," Diane said to me as I met her in front of Hume's.

"I'll bet you do," I said, kissing her on the cheek.

"No, really. That was terrible. But I had to make sure that you didn't, shall we say, spill any seed before I could have a lick at that big hard cock."

All the woman had to do was say "big hard cock," and my member uncoiled into a rod of pink steel.

"Well, you'll just have to be punished, that's all."

"I can hardly wait," Diane said and gave my boner a squeeze.

I told Diane to meet me at the bar while I checked our coats.

I stood at the coatcheck, eyeing the buxom little cherry pop tart who was handling the coat checking chores.

She had a long mane of reddish brown hair that danced at the side of her face.

She wore a pair of large, baggy black pants with boots that rose all the way up to her knees.

This chick was small-breasted, but she reeked of hot, sweet sex anyway.

I waited in line, holding Diane's and my jackets in front of me.

I guess it was unconscious, but I found myself rubbing the bulk of our coats up and down against my captive hard-on.

The coat check girl made eye contact with me, and it was my turn to give her the jackets.

When someone tapped my shoulder.

"Good evening, Mister Lester."

It was a man's voice.

I wheeled around.

We stood face to face ...

Me and the guy with the blonde hair and the white streak.

My heart pounded. I was really taken by surprise.

"Good evening, Mister Cole," I said calmly.

He extended his hand.

"It's nice to see you here. I hope you and Diane are enjoying the place."

I paused one second.

Being a private eye teaches a man to be a little more cautious than average.

But a gaze in his eyes told me that the best thing I could do would be to trust him.

I shook his hand.

"Yes, yes indeed. We're having a great time."

"Maybe when the two of you are a little more, shall we say, established as a couple, the three of us can explore some of the special things this club has to offer,"

"The three of us? Hm. Well, I'd have to talk it over with Diane, but that's a very kind offer."

"Kind isn't the word, Mister Lester!"

We laughed at his little joke. Yeah, I guess the thought of "kind" S-and-M is a bit ironic.

I checked the coats and met Diane at the bar for a drink.

"Hey, handsome."

"Hey, beautiful."

"Pulling me out of the men's room really was a dirty trick. You're lucky I'm in love with you."

"Then you are in love with me. I thought so,"

"I suppose I'm just one more cock to you, my dear, but you really are Something special."

"No, Mark," she said sipping her drink through soft and pouting lips, "You are not just a cock. You're an incredible lover and I think you have the makings of a great dominateur.

Well, we sat at the bar for about thirty minutes, chatting and warming each other up.

Diane did her usually fine work of letting her hand crawl up my thigh and play with my erect cock while it was still trapped helpless within my pants.

She whipped out a joint, and then we smoked it.

For some reason, though. Diane seemed to be delaying sex.

She was dragging it out, drawing the foreplay at the bar on far too long.

This was making me frustrated.

Frustrated and angry.

Angry enough to want to punish her.

"I want to do something different tonight, Mark. I mean, we've been experimenting with S-and-M, but tonight I really want to go for it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"No holes barred. None of this cutesy-pooh palm and paddle stuff."

I was a little scared, but what the hell.

This was the roller coaster ride of my life, and I didn't want to get off of it now.

She pulled down one of the flaps of the front of her blouse, exposing the top of her tit.

The tit that I had sucked and bit so many times before.

She took the joint from between my lips and placed the glowing end closer to her skin.

I watched.

It seemed to take forever.

Time itself slowed down for me as I watched the lit joint edge closer and closer to that .milky white skin.

I caught the trail of its smoking ember in my nostrils, and my eyes started to water.

She pulled her blouse down farther and farther.

And she brought the joint closer and closer.

Then, with one gesture, in one searing moment of unreality, she pulled down and her blouse torn right open. Her naked breast was exposed to the world right there at the bar of the S-and-M club.

She pressed the burning end of the joint into her skin about an inch above her pink nipple.

Her nipple grew erect as the smoking joint made a hissing sound.

I smelled the stench of charred flesh.

She threw her head back in an instant of total ecstasy.

Burning a hole in her naked tit in front of everybody.

God, how watching it turned me on.

Then she threw her head forward, her hair tumbling in her eyes.

She glared at me through clenched teeth.

"I want you to hurt me tonight, Mark. Because I want to hurt you. You and your stinking hard-on cock."

She got up from the bar and made her way to the back of the club. I followed.

How could I not?

I was entranced.

She took a different staircase, this time, one that led to the basement.

"I'm taking you to the REAL dungeon, Mark."

"I'm with you, baby," I said, like a little boy.

She seemed possessed by some demon, for, as she progressed on our little voyage into the deeper, darker chambers of this den of iniquity, she didn't stop to wait up for me.

She just went onward.

"God, I've wanted to do this since I was a little girl," she said as she disappeared into a dark room.

I followed her in there, but I .was lost in the darkness.

"Diane? Diane? Where did you go?"

Then the lights came on, and Diane was standing in front of me and in front of a big iron bed, outfitted with a great deal of strange and bizarre instruments of cruel sex.

This scenario made the room on the second floor look like child's play.

First I saw how Diane was dressed.

She was wearing nothing but a leather harness.

The harness formed the shape of a one-piece bathing suit, but with a lot of the material missing.

It wrapped around her tits, but circles were cut out of the leather around six inches out from her nipples.

The straps of leather were studded with metal spikes.

Spikes.

Not studs.

She wore a spiked leather slave collar around her neck to go with this harness.

The harness ran down the middle of her torso and wrapped around her legs.

The crotch was cut-away, as were the nipples of the bra.

And knee-boots, spiked as well. In black leather with seven inch heels.

Those heels and pointed toes looked incredibly menacing.

She wore armbands of matching spiked black leather, and around her wrists were bracelets of matching stuff.

And there was Jesus hanging on his cross, once more dangling between her tits.

My cock.

My poor aching cock.

Diane approached me with slashing nails.

"Strip, you little hard-on. Strip naked."

She ripped my shirt down the middle.

It didn't take me long to get naked.

She threw a cock-harness at me.

I put it on.

Slowly.

Diane watched me slip my legs through the leather-and-rubber leg holes.

She watched me buckle the sides of the harness up over my shoulders.

She led me over to a treasure chest of wonderful accessories.

"This is fantastic," I muttered as I watched her pull out matching spiked leather accoutrements that matched hers.

Soon I was dressed as she was, with my erect boner in a harness, and my balls trapped as well.

She strode next to me, and handed me a pair of boots like the ones she wore. This was beyond my wildest fantasies. I put them on.

They were a tight fit at first, but the discomfort only heightened the horny feelings that drove my libido wild.

I stood up in them.

Diane showed me the ceiling mirror.

She lay down on the iron bed.

I lay down next to her.

I stared at the two of us, naked except for the lather and metal that we wore.

She rolled over on her side.

Her tits ached to push out of the small openings in the front of her outfit.

Her nipples seemed almost purplish in color.

She threw one arm over my shoulder and reached down to hold my erect penis in her other hand.

"There's only one thing wrong, Mark."

"Yeah?"

"Your cock harness."

I felt her reach for something down below.

"It isn't ... TIGHT enough!"

She pulled a strap and buckled it in place—and the pain shot through me like a ton of explosives.

One yank of a leather strap and my penis and balls were trapped in an inextricable web or pain.

Sweet pain.

She snuggled next to me and I felt the spikes from her outfit rest against my flesh.

I nibbled her ear as we stared to make out on the bed.

Every time we got closer we felt more pain from the spikes on our leather harnesses.

Soon, little red marks had appeared on my arms and legs.

But the more I ached with the pain and discomfort, the more I wanted her.

She got up off the bed.

I sat on the bed.

My stiff cock stuck out through its harness, my captive balls underneath.

She turned around, facing away from me.

Her ass was naked.

But her waist had that leather belt around it.

So, when she sat down on my cock, my penis slid into her wet pussy from behind ...

... but it hurt.

Yeah.

Up she went, and then back down, fucking me.

I reached up around her ad grasped her tits.

They felt hard.

I ran my fingertips around the very edge of her harness, where her nipples poked out.

I fell back on the bed.

She kept squat-thrusting on my cock.

She rested her hands on my thighs, her metal spikes digging into my flesh, threatening to rip my skin.

"Ahhh! Oh, God, this is fantastic!" she cried.

"Mmmmm!" I moaned in agreement.

But then the very next second, she was up and off me.

I stared at my hard-on.

IT was slippery and wet with her cunt juice.

I smelled the strong scent of wet feather.

Leather made wet not with water but with pussy.

Diane strode around the room, looking for something that would make the evening even more exciting.

She returned to the bed with a small vial.

"I forgot all about this."

Cocaine.

Nice touch.

Diane tapped out a spot of the white powder on her hand and shoved the stuff up her nose with a loud snort.

She passed me the vial and she started to break out in an insane smile.

"I love you!" she cried, and wrapped her arms around me, spilling the remaining dust across the iron bed.

I felt her spikes as she felt mine.

She crawled on top of me.

Her spikes scraped and bit my flesh as she mounted me upside down.

With her ass sticking high in the air, we entered into the sixty nine position.

Good.

I hadn't eaten a good hair pie in alt too long.

The leather of her harness cut close to her beaver.

So close that as her snatch ran ripe with the thick juices of horny lust, she soaked the leather, and even some of the inch-long metal spikes got a coating of sweet smelly goo.

I let my tongue do the licking.

And her pussy did the screaming.

I found her clit right away.

I pulled her pussy lips wide apart with the power of my fingers.

I wanted her to feel ripped right apart.

Then I stuck my tongue way out of my mouth and planted it on the end of her love-nub.

And her clit responded by growing bigger and harder inside its slimy bed of pink flesh.

I opened wide and dove down to grab the little sucker between my teeth.

I did it.

Diane stopped moving, except to plant her own teeth on the head of my stinging and erect prick.

It was like a duel.

I bit down a little.

She bit down a little.

Hah.

I was going to make her cum first.

For, the tight pressure of my cock harness was such that it would prevent me from shooting my wad.

It would simply keep me suspended in a state of hardonic ecstasy for as long as we played our little game of torture.

I bit her clit between my teeth.

She shouted.

I bit again.

Her mouth fell from my cock.

I extricated her from my embrace.

She lay on the bed like a defeated wrestler.

I stood next to the iron bed, feeling hard and masculine, a master of her will as well as my own.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to meet Hume."

Hume.

Finally.

Diane stood up and brushed the hair out of her eyes.

She still seemed fresh, as if this little roll in the leather was merely a warm-up, a prelude to the bizarre fun that we were about to encounter.

"This is going to be the greatest night of my life," she said, and ran out of the room, to search, I figured, for this Hume character.

I sat there.

I did the remaining cocaine that I could find at the bottom of the little vial.

I looked up at myself at the mirror.

I was no longer that man I was.

I was now a cocksman of the most adventurous kind.

My erection was blue.

I loosened the harness a little bit and lay back on the bed to glance myself over.

My prick was the most sexy thing I had ever seen.

It was not only hard and red and dripping, but it looked great surrounded by the leather and rubber and metal that enveloped it.

I extended my index finger and brought it down to the head of my penis.

I scooped off the goblet of pre-cum that had formed.

I ran my wettened finger up and down the length of my shaft.

Up and down the length of that protrusion.

That spongy bump that makes the underbelly the most tender part of a man's penis.

I watched the mirror in horny fascination as Iran just the tip of my finger up and down my harnessed cock and felt every fibre of my inner soul tingle with the thousands of ergs of ionic energy that cruel sex can bring to a man.

Then my tits.

I stroked my own hairy nipples.

I shut my eyes while I fondled myself—every inch of my leather-adorned body having become a temple of sex.

I shut my eyes and thought of Diane.

Of the fantastic things we had done together.

Of the incredible voyages through the extremes of pain and pleasure that this incredible woman had led me through.

As I fondled my hot and tingling body, I dreamt of the places she would take me now.

On beyond bondage, into realms where only the most sophisticated sexual athletes have ever wandered.

I couldn't wait until she returned with Hume. I wanted to thank him, to congratulate him on this fantastic sex spa that he ran.

I wanted to tell him how the place had changed my life and given a new purpose to my leisure hours.

Jesus—any man that could bring together two implacable enemies like me and that fucking Andrew Cole character—this guy had to be a genius.

Maybe I would even suck his cock. Why not?

I imagined that he was probably that black dancer whose hard-on's traces had awakened long-dormant stirrings deep within my body.

I fantasized about Diane and he and the two black chicks and me.

How we would fuck.

And suck each other's nipples and pricks.

How we might even get together for long weekends in the country, bringing nothing with us except a picnic basket full of sex devices and enough pot and coke to keep us buzzing through the greatest sex romps of all time.

Yeah, maybe it was the drugs.

Maybe it was the high of love and liquor.

But I remember those moment waiting for Diane as I teased my own cock to be some of the happiest, most serene and at the same time most exciting moments of my life.

I relaxed.

Then, slowly, I got up from the bed and strode, in my high-heeled sex boots and all, over to the little chest where Diane had pulled out all those sex accessories.

I rummaged through the pile.

Whips.

I found the longest one, and uncoiling it from the rest of the items that had been tossed there over the years, pulled it out.

A genuine cat o'nine tails.

With a bunch of steel tips, each one barbed.

It had a long leather body and a hard handle, decorated with a mother-of-pearl grip.

An antique, perhaps.

I remember striding across the dungeon room by myself, my erection sticking out in front of me.

I practiced cracking the whip.

It was tough to get the feel of it at first.

But then I got the thing to crack a loud crack in mid-air. I even smelled the scent of ozone where it had cracked.

I knew how I was going to do this.

I would wait.

And then, when Diane returned with Hume, I was going to pose for them and taunt them with the whip.

We would take turns torturing each other.

Hume and I would collaborate in tying up Diane.

We would tit-torture the bitch until she creamed an endless stream from her dripping red cunt.

And then Diane would humiliate us both.

It was going to be great.

I thought about quitting my job and leaving this filthy city for a community of uninhibited free sex.

I was high.

Higher than the sky.

I heard Diane's voice from down the hall.

I turned off the lights and listened.

I wanted to surprise Diane and Hume as she had surprised me.

She was talking to Hume.

"And he's a terrific guy," she said. I knew she was talking about me.

She continued.

"He's realty gotten into it. But he's loving, too. He isn't out to just hurt you—he wants to suffer for the glorious thrill that the orgasm can bring."

Diane sounded like an old pro when she talked to Hume about sex.

My heart was pounding. So was my cock.

This was going to be a great moment.

I was going to meet the dungeon master.

"Mark?"

Diane pushed the door opened, and I saw her silhouette in the shaft of light from outside.

She snickered. "Very nice ... very nice." She was admiring the dramatic touch that I imitated of hers.

"Mark, turn on the lights and let me see you. I have a friend here. A special friend. His name is Hume, and he wants to degrade your stinking hard-on."

I flashed on the lights.

"Yes," Hume said. "I really want to make your friend feel the most intense agony."

Hume stood before me.

He was a white guy.

With muscular legs that were naked. He wore a leather jock strap and a black t-shirt beneath rippled huge pecks.

He had steely blue eyes.

And a head of blonde hair with a white streak that ran through the middle.