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As soon as her husband pulled the heavy curtain aside so they could pass into the main club, the entire atmosphere changed. Gone was the amicable casualness of the social club, replaced with the kind of hardcore kink they’d enjoyed on their tour. They stepped a few feet into the room, moving out of the thoroughfare, to give their eyes time to adjust to the dim lighting. The soft background music of the bar had been swapped out with an almost tribal kind of song with a fast, heavy beat that was perfect to play hard to.
The place might have been sparsely occupied when they’d gotten off the elevator, but now, several hours later, the club was filling up nicely. Several of the platforms around the space were now occupied with an array of kinky scenes already in progress.
Tiffany felt her body swaying to the music, letting the sexual submission she had tucked away in the crazy busy last month start seeping back in. It wasn’t just her body that felt the change. The feel of Lukus’s possessive grip on the back of her neck helped her relax into him. Despite the action all around them, her mind quieted as she pushed out the litany of stressful things that had been running on an autoloop in her brain for weeks. She could pick up her travel anxiety again the next day when they went back to the airport to head to Hawaii. Here… tonight at Black Light… it was time to turn herself over to the man she loved. The man she trusted.
With each scene they passed, Tiff started to feel more at home. The club interior may have looked unique, but the tantalizing scenes were not terribly different from The Pit. That the realization brought her comfort was telling. On the weekend she’d met her now husband, his domineering personality had scared the bejesus out of her—tonight, he made her feel loved and protected.
And if she was halfway honest, his dominance made her feel horny and excited as well.
Pulling gently on the leash attached to her collar, Lukus commanded, “Let’s go see what that big crowd is all about on the platform near the pool.”
She fell in behind him, grasping his black T-shirt to keep them in contact as he weaved a path through the dozen or so spectators. He pulled her in front of him once he stopped. His six-inch height difference allowed him to look over her shoulder as he spoke intimately against the shell of her ear.
“Oh look, it’s the asshole you had the hots for in the bar,” he deadpanned.
Months ago, she might have been nervous with his observation, but she’d seen Lukus furious more times than she cared to remember since they’d met—especially on the few occasions his anger had been pointed in her direction.
Tonight wasnotone of those occasions. He was teasing her.
Turning to talk so he might hear, she baited him. “I’m sorry, Sir, but if you can’t keep me satisfied, I might have to keep my options open.”
Lukus’s growl made her tummy flutter. She was playing with fire and better be careful, or her ass would be feeling the singe of her earned burn.
They stood shoulder to shoulder with the other spectators watching the dark-haired Dom with his perfectly groomed beard and his tanned, tattooed muscles as he mastered a petite submissive. She was as light as he was dark.
The Dom had restrained the naked blonde flat on her back on an old-fashioned rack like those used in medieval times to torture victims before death. Unlike most of the deviant furniture in both the Punishment Pit and Black Light, this device looked frighteningly authentic. The metal frame barely supported the splayed, lithe body as her limbs were spread uncomfortably wide in four directions. The spotlights above the platform shone down on them, highlighting the red welts already decorating her body.
Tiffany was more familiar with having her backside warmed during sessions with her Dom, so seeing the crisscrossing lines on the sub’s breasts, thighs, and even stomach got her own heartrate up. The angry, red patches encircling both of the captive’s tits told the story of agony that the vicious clamps latched there divulged.
As intense as those observations were, it was the fact that the dangerous Dom had a leather strap wrapped tight enough around her neck to cut off her airstream that pushed this scene into the taboo category for Tiff. The quiet crowd watched transfixed as he held her precious life in his hands, literally. His gaze was intense as he watched his submissive’s every twitch… somehow knowing exactly when he needed to loosen the leather’s grip, allowing the restrained woman to gasp for air until the leather cut off her oxygen supply again.
Tiffany’s heart raced, afraid for the sub. Sensing her anxiety, Lukus wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her against his chest as they both watched the scene play out in front of them. Between allowing gulps of air, the Dom picked up a flogger from a nearby table and started spinning the heavy stripes in a perfect circular motion, landing leather against the submissive’s unprotected pussy.
Three strikes of leather—two gulps of air. Two strikes of leather—one gulp of air. On and on the assault went as droplets of perspiration shone gathering on her stomach under the spotlight. The only thing wetter were the strings of juice visibly seeping from her punished pussy. A deaf person might think the scene abusive, but anyone within twenty feet heard her low growls and escalating groans of sexual arousal. The Dom was literally playing her body like a master conductor, knowing precisely the moment it was time to drop the leather strap from around her neck with a clunk to the wooden floor of the platform.
At first Tiffany was disappointed at the thought that he might be bringing the scene to an end but was instead treated to him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. His long cock sprang out at attention the second he’d pushed his pants down a few inches.
“I feel you trembling in my arms. This scene is really doing it for you, isn’t it baby? Or is it just that asshole’s cock you’re enjoying?” Her husband growled against her ear.
While it had taken her years to work up the courage to live a kinky lifestyle, she’d known she loved being a voyeur from her very first visit to a BDSM club years before. Her husband knew her well, knowing how thrilled his wife was to have a front-row seat for the passionate show in progress.
She thought the hot Dom would rush to fuck the punished pussy, but instead, he unexpectedly leaned down to whisper something to his submissive, taking a second to wipe away some of the tears she’d shed.
“He’s being careful, checking in with her.” This time Lukus’s words felt more like a compliment to the Dom than a tease to his wife.
That didn’t stop her from jabbing him back. “Does this mean you don’t think he’s an asshole for winking at me earlier?”
Lukus chuckled. “Oh no, he’s most definitely still an asshole, but at least he’s a responsible one.”
Seconds later, that long cock was shoved down the subdued woman’s throat. It was surely cutting off her ability to breathe every bit as much as the leather strap strangling her had moments before. After face fucking her for what felt like a full minute, he allowed his sub to gasp for air—wet strings of spittle tied them together until he buried his rod balls-deep again. The woman tried valiantly to arch her back, writhing on the table just as the flogger struck her pussy again.
Even if Tiffany hadn’t heard the woman’s scream as she detonated into an explosive orgasm in front of them, she knew she would never forget the look of utter bliss on the handsome Dom’s face as his submissive squeezed his cock with her throat. The submissive shuddered as much as the restraints allowed as the waves of her climax shook through her body.
Once he’d thrown her body into ecstasy, the Dom dropped the flogger to the floor, gripping the metal rack on either side of the woman’s reclined head and started pistoning his hips with a near fury. With each thrust of his shaft down the sub’s throat, Tiffany’s own excitement climbed higher. Understanding exactly what pushed his wife’s buttons, Lukus leaned down and cupped her pussy through the sheer panties she wore under her baby-doll negligée. His fingers pressed against her clit with just enough pressure to amp her higher, but not enough umph to detonate her own bomb.
“Do not come. Do you hear me?” He growled against her ear.
Her resounding whine was the only answer she could muster. Just a little bit more pressure—a bit of movement—but her Dom only edged her higher as she watched the Dom on stage give the sub more air before fucking her throat to his own finale. As tempting as it was to watch his cock going in and out of the woman, Tiffany dragged her attention higher to watch his jaw lock, his face contorting in the rawest of releases as he shouted his own climax.
