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A job? I don’t even know if I can handle being in here tonight, much less working near Devyn for any length of time.
“Tell you what, why don’t you hang around a bit and think on it. Bret can fill you in if you’re interested. In the meantime, drinks are on the house.”
He wraps his arm back around the girl, and they head to the door behind the bar.
“Bret, I’m taking Magic back to my office.”
“Alright, boss.”
As I finish off another beer, I keep my eye out for the other girls who have come out here on the floor. There’s still no sign of Devyn anywhere.
Deafening whistles and screams suddenly erupt, barely allowing me to hear the girl announced as Honey. Bass pumps as “Gorilla,” by Bruno Mars, starts blaring through the club’s speakers. The way the crowd is going crazy, I’m sure this girl must be one of the favorites Bret was talking about earlier. I push my way through the crowd, slowly inching up closer to the side of the stage to see what all the commotion is about.
The flashing lights, overhead, are so bright, I have to shield my eyes with my hand. All I see is long wavy hair as it slings around, back and forth. The stage lights gradually dim, and I watch as two gorgeous legs wrap around the long steel pole, climbing it with ease. Once she’s midway up the pole, she leans out and spreads her long legs wide for the crowd. The vulgar comments erupt around me, but I’m too lost in the dance to care. The girl eases back down to the floor and rocks her hips to the beat. Before I can get a clear view of her face, she places her back to me, and slides her fingers beneath the thin strings on her panties. Slowly, she bends over and inches her black thongs past her hips, allowing them to fall to the floor.
Goddamn, that ass of hers is incredib
le.
My dark mind is thinking of all the ways I could tie her up with that thong… of all the things I can do to mark that perfect ass. Still turned in the other direction, she picks up the underwear and flings it out to the crowd, over her back. As fate would have it, it lands straight into my hands. Men slap at me to get it, but I grip it with all my might.
I bring the tiny piece of fabric up to my nose and inhale deeply, appreciating this woman’s delicious aroma. Fucking hell! The sweet, intoxicating smell only makes my balls ache more. I want to spread her open on that stage and taste every inch of her pussy. Captivated by her hypnotic movements, I watch as she turns to face me. Lifting my eyes, I finally see the powerful goddess on stage come into view. In that instant, my breath leaves my body.
Devyn.
Wait. Devyn is Honey?
I stand there, paralyzed as she finishes her performance. Everything seems to slow around me. As I watch her step off the stage, I’m grasping at ways to throw out the thoughts that are racing through my head. Fuck! I should have never gone with Bret into that damn Ultimate Climax room in the first place. It’s only made everything worse by awakening every desire within me.
My starving dick throbs against my jeans zipper, begging to be set free. Even from all the way over here, I can smell her sweet desire as it fills the air around me. My need to be inside of her is growing more and more unbearable by the second. As I watch her step from the stage floor, all I can think about is tying her up, gagging her, and fucking her brains out. Suddenly, an unfamiliar fear sets in.
What if she goes into one of those rooms tonight with another guy?
Just the thought of another guy touching her makes me want to break these fucker’s necks. But why? She’s a target, a job. She’s absolutely nothing to me. Even though I’m a Dom, I’m not a possessive guy. So, why the fuck am I turning into one now?
I turn and walk toward the bar, feeling my rapid pulse as it throbs in my neck. By the time I make it to the bar, there’s some guy already talking to Bret. I manage to overhear the end of their conversation.
“Yeah, I got you down with Honey. I’m swamped right now and can’t leave. Give me a few, and I’ll see if I can round up someone to take you back.”
My heart stops. There’s no way in fucking hell I’m going to let this fucker get in that room with her. I’ve got to figure something out and quick.
“I can do it,” I blurt out, in desperation. Somehow taking the job seems like the only way to fix the situation at hand.
“So you’re taking the job, then?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go take a piss, first. I know how rough Honey likes to get.” The guy chuckles before leaving us. I’m going to make him pay dearly for that comment.
Swallowing my anger, I turn my attention back to Bret. He digs into his pocket and places the metal key ring in my hand.
“Here’s the key to the room, but listen… Honey’s not like the rest of the girl’s here.”
No shit, Sherlock.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, let’s just say she’s not for the faint of heart. She gets pretty rough with the guys.”
“She does? I thought the room was for men to use on the girls.”
“It is, but some men like the woman being in charge. She’s a Dominatrix.”
The word slaps me across the face. A Dominatrix? This girl, the one I’ve watched be so sweet and gentle with her son, is a fetish queen? No fucking way! As a Dominant myself, I know what a Dominatrix’s roles are in that room. They hold the reins; they wield the power. Regardless of what she thinks she is, I know this dark, twisted world well enough to judge what it takes. I’d love nothing more than to prove her wrong; have her submit to me fully.
The only way to make her see is for me to play along and humor her by pretending to be something I’m not. The thing is, going in that room with her will mean I give up the one thing I have in my life… control. Even if it is for just a moment, I don’t know if I can trust myself enough to do it. The things I crave, I take. The pleasures I return are mine to decide. I would never take a woman unwillingly, and I can damn sure promise she’d be begging me, not the other way around.
“Hey? You still with me?” Bret shouts, snapping me out of my trance.
“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking.”
“Honey has certain special requests. That guy’s been in here before, so he knows what to do. She wants them wearing the vinyl hood and on their knees in front of the black platform. The hood is in the top desk drawer as you go in. When you’ve got him set up, turn the indicator light on in the control room. She’ll know when to come in.”
Jesus.
“The bouncers usually wait down the hall for the girls in case the panic button ever goes off. Think you can handle all of that?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good, thanks.” Bret nods and turns back to wait on customers.
I’d been eyeing the bathroom since the guy had gone inside of it. As I walk toward the door, I tuck the keys in my pocket and casually enter behind him. I immediately spot him at the urinal with his back to me. Ducking down, I hurriedly look beneath the two stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I see that we are, I step toward the bathroom door and the metal bolt across the top. This fucker’s not going anywhere until I’m ready for him to.
As I wait for him to finish, I pretend to take a piss in the urinal beside of him. The minute he reaches to tuck his dick in his pants, I’m there ready, knife in hand. Grabbing his balls in one hand, I twist them as hard as I can. His loud screams for help erupt, but my knife quickly finds his throat.
“I suggest you shut the fuck up!” The urge to kill him is strangling me. God, it would feel so good to just end him, but I know there is only one way to handle this. I know assholes just like him and how they operate. I’ve worked for them. I’ve killed them.
“Take off your fucking pants,” I demand.
“W-hat are you going to do to me?”
I savor the shaking of his voice, the trembling of his body. His fear tastes so fucking good. If he’s smart, he should be terrified of me and what I’m capable of doing.
“I said take off your fucking pants. Now!” I grit out, pushing the knife harder against his throat. A tiny trickle of blood forms at the tip of my knife, thrilling me. Terrified, he begins stripping down in front of me. I drop my hand to my side and watch his arm tremble as he holds them out for me.
I hastily snatch them from him and retrieve his wallet. Opening the fancy engraved brown leather only reveals the one thing I knew all along. The fucker is married, with a family. Picture after picture shows him standing beside a loving wife and kids.
Removing his license, I hold it up to look at the name. “Dexter Williams of 342 Laurel Street. Hmm.” I tuck it into my shirt pocket and throw the wallet back at him. As if perfectly timed, his pants pocket begins ringing. When I pull out his phone, I spot the word HOME come across the screen.
“Well, well, it seems someone is calling for you.” I toss it at him. “Answer it and put it on speaker. Tell her where you are.”
“No, please! She can’t know I’m here. She’ll never forgive me this time!” He begs. God, how I loathe begging from fucking cowards. Within two strides, I have him slammed up against the wall, this time putting my knife in his crotch.
“Then I suggest you do exactly as I say. We’re going to walk out of here together and then I’m going to take you to the back door. You’re going to pretend you’re going into Ultimate Climax, but you’re not.”
“S-sure. I’ll do it. Just don’t tell my wife I’m here.” He stutters nervously.
“Put these back on.” I order, tossing him back his pants. With shaking arms, he struggles to put his foot in them. When he’s done dressing, I walk toward the door and shove the bolt of the lock back. Once I open it, I give him another warning as I move behind him.
“Remember, act normal.” I
push the blade into his back, and he nods. I slip the knife up my sleeve and escort him to the side door.
After we get backstage, I walk him to the far exit near the control room. Hitting the metal door with my hand, I open it and forcefully shove him out into the back parking lot where the garbage dumpster is.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go home to your wife and family and never come back here again. Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I will end you!” Patting my front shirt pocket, I warn, “Remember, I know who you are and where you live. Don’t make me pay you a visit.”
He stumbles over his feet as he takes off running towards the parking lot. Getting rid of him was the easy part, now comes the hard part. As I turn the handle of the control room, I know I don’t have much time. Immediately, I follow Bret’s instructions and remove the bondage hood from the drawer, cringing as I slip it over my face.
