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At least she isn’t going to suffocate.
The only body part showing other than her gag-opened lips were her clamp-covered lower lips. Courtesy of her spread legs, Tiff could see heavy gage clamps biting into both sides of her enlarged labia. Bulky weights hung from the metal, ensuring the delivery of constant burning pain. Her arms stretched high above her head, held secure by manacles hanging from the many rafters over the audience pit.
Tiff allowed herself a few minutes to inspect the rest of the space, and found multiple nooks of torture available for club members to enjoy. It was as if every piece of furniture doubled as a punishment device or restraint. While some Doms relaxed with drinks, their submissives kneeling obediently nearby as they shot the shit after a long day at the office, others made use of the plethora of punishment devices on hand. The heat in Tiffany’s core percolated at the sight of a naughty sub thrown over the back of a couch, her Master lighting up her ass with his thick belt.
She watched curiously as several waitresses mingled through the club. While they may have taken drink or food orders like normal servers, to work at The Punishment Pit, they clearly had to possess other important attributes. For one thing, they all appeared to boast double D sized breasts, showcased by the skimpy, form-fitting corsets doubling as a uniform. While their waists were cinched painfully tight, forcing their bodies into an hourglass shape, the cup-less bodice of the uniform was cut in a way to provide a shelf, prominently promoting their bare busts. The waitress nearest Tiff sported not only heavy nipple piercings, but welts of a recent caning also marked her ample breasts.
Soon, a second waitress passed by, close enough for Tiffany to make out the contents of her small bar tray. Mingled with one martini glass and a bottle of imported beer was a curious collection of sexual aids, being passed out like free swag items at a party. Tiff made out several packets of condoms, a pair of nipple clamps, a small bottle of lube, a sturdy hairbrush, and most surprising, several feathers.
The sound of a text dinging on her cell phone reminded her she was not where she was supposed to be. She’d planned to only take a quick peek at the club, but she’d lingered long enough that Lukus was probably looking for her.
I need to get the hell out of here, and quick.
As she spun to leave the same way she had come in, the door flung open and two couples barged forward, almost knocking her over. The men were a bit older, and much heavier than the other members in attendance. She stifled a snicker after deciding they looked more like nerdy accountants than Doms. Regardless, the two scantily clad women following closely behind, tethered to them by their collar and leash, confirmed that the men were indeed Doms. They stopped short in front of Tiff, too close for comfort.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I was just leaving.”
“Oh damn, don’t tell me we’re too late to buy you a drink, little lady. I think you need to stay long enough for us to get to know you better.”
Tiffany observed the predatory glare in the men’s eyes. They didn’t even try to hide that they were checking out every inch of her body. She regretted wearing a low-cut blouse and short skirt. Both had been chosen specifically to entice Lukus into ravishing her, not to attract the attention of these unsavory characters. She tried brushing past them, but they were bold enough to block her way, disgustingly laying their hands on her. She was furious.
“Let me go, this instant.”
“Listen, you know the rules. Are you a Domme?” Before she could think fast enough to reply, he laughed. “Of course you aren’t. If you’re a Domme, I’m Mickey Mouse. And since I don’t see a collar, not even a house collar, you’re fair game, little lady. Now, come have a drink with us.”
Quickly swinging her around, the men each took one of her arms and started forcibly shuffling her towards the bar. Tiff tried digging in her heels to stop their forward movement, but it wasn’t working. “You guys are making a really big mistake. You need to let me go, right now. I need to leave.”
“Oh come on, just one drink while we get to know you a bit better. Who knows? Maybe you’ll decide you’d like to stay and play with us. My brother and I can show you a good time tonight.”
Their grip cut into her arms; she worried they might leave a mark Lukus was going to see. She knew she needed to get out of here and up to the loft before he came looking for her. With a quick yank, she finally pulled free, only to fall backwards against a muscular chest that felt suspiciously like Lukus. Conflicting emotions invaded. She was happy he was there to help her deal with these two yahoos, but she knew she was in big trouble for coming into the club alone. She hit a whole new level of fear when the man holding her tightly against him spoke.
“What do we have here? Fresh meat?”
Shit. It’s not Lukus.
She was grateful when she felt his grip loosening. Her brief moment of relief was short-lived. As he twirled her around to face him, she came face to face with the most menacing looking man she had ever had the displeasure to meet in her twenty-seven years. A shiver consumed her as his predatory eyes drank her in as if she was property to be used as desired. When his eyes returned to hers, she knew she was in big trouble.
You really got yourself into a hot mess this time, Tiff. Lukus is going to wail on your ass when he finds you.
As his grip on her tightened, she struggled to wrench free. “Um, excuse me. Let me go. I’m not in the right place. I need to leave.”
Things went from bad to worse when the unwelcome Dom grabbed her long hair and yanked it hard, forcing her neck to snap back so she was forced to stare straight into his pockmark-filled face. He wasn’t much taller than she was, which provided her with the displeasure of looking him straight in the eye as she felt his other hand cupping her ass, pulling her tight against him. “But you just got here. I see you’re unattached. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be in a place like this alone. I’ll protect you.”
Acting braver than she felt, she retorted, “And who the hell is going to protect me from you?” Without thinking, the sassy response was out. The predatory look in his eyes turned to fury.
“You little bitch. Someone needs to teach you some manners.”
Way to go Tiff. I hope I’m alive long enough for Lukus to save me.
* * *
To be continued in book four of the Punishment Pit series, Balancing it All. Preorder/buy it now! Check out this short excerpt.
Excerpt from Balancing it All~ Book Four
Lukus
Lukus was throwing the bread sticks into the oven to warm up when the cell phone in his pocket vibrated. He decided to let it roll to voicemail. There was only one person he wanted to talk to right now, and she was in the elevator on her way up to the loft.
