SirSTRYKER
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Joined: 8/15/2004
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THE GENTLEMEN’S CLUB by SIR STRYKER
He was seated in His drawing room. The rich velvet curtains hung neatly against the stone walls. The house was fashioned after a mid-evil castle of the 17th century. Dark, dreary, drafty and chilling. Sparing capitol on furnishings, His most prized possessions seems not to be inanimate objects.
The room was being warmed by a large roaring fire, billowing black smoke from the coal and wood, burning in the pit of the fireplace. An eerie orange glow created dancing shadows along the highly polished hard wood floors, which shone for the performance.
The crystal goblet He held in His left hand, had two ice cubes floating lazily in dark clear twelve year old blended scotch. He sniffed the contents of His old familiar drink of choice. “Ahh,” he smiled to Himself.
Sitting quietly alone in His chair, He thought back on the past days events. To be sure, they had be fulfilling, exciting, demanding, exhausting, yes, yes this was true alright. There had been, in the past 72 hours, some very sorted dealings afloat. Much had to be risked for the sake of honor! Honor. It was His code. Honor. It was His passion. Oh He was a Man given to His drink. There is no doubting that. The Gentleman was no stranger to the bottle.
It was a poker night at the home of another Gentleman Friend of His where the madness began. The regular Gentleman were all present. The game started out with a five hundred dollar seat, table limit one game only being played. Five card stud. Three up, two down. Winner takes all.
The differences in these particular four Gentlemen was as vast as the galaxy. They would not normally be in mere game with each other, were it not for one of two things, indeed. One is money. Each of them has an abundance of it. It is not really clear how they came to such means however. There are rumors and speculations yes, but no one has actually ever came out with a set of books for any of the four of these Gentlemen to set the record straight. At the same time, of course, nobody asks about any of them much either.
These are dark men. Strange men. Men who are not exactly just what they seem to be at times. These men had secrets. These men carried things around in their heads that the average person couldn’t sleep over. That was the norm for this cast of characters.
The second reason they would be together, would be to win a bet of honor. They all were intrigued with the BDSM Lifestyle. Each of them lived in the same town. All four corners of the city were somehow controlled by One of Them. At least as far as shady sexual practices go anyway.
Master Taylor, North Side. White, 48 city born and bread, and crafty as a sidewinder. MT, as He’s called at these poker games, was once voted the most “pied piper” like voice in town. He has steel blue eyes that pierce right through to the marrow of a slave. He has the youthful appearance of a man much younger the Him. This is always a plus in the pursuit of prey.
Once, MT was in New York at some local borough munch. It was a small affair of a Friend of a Friend’s of His so He condescended to make an appearance. At the affair was a rather inexperienced fellow acting as a Dom with a rather willful young pretty sub. The Dom was attempting to gain the girls attention by yanking on her leash. The girl was kneeled at His feet but try as He might she just would not obey, nor even turn her head to acknowledge Him. E/everyone nearby was keenly aware of the situation. N/nobody interfered as it could have become quite awkward if mishandled. As the battle ensued, MT begged pardon from the small group He’d been chatting with, walked over to the T/two of them, looked the would be Dom in the face and said, “Either handle your pet or I will!”
Before the Dom had time to reply, the sub looked up at MT and mouths, “Hey, I’m not anybody’s pet dude.” One must be informed at this particular junction of O/our story that at this insignificant little soiree were all sorts of wannabes. Players who liked to play dress up, slave and master games. It was ‘do a munch’ on Tuesday night, then ‘line dancing at the bar’ on Wednesday. No biggy! No harm, no foul. It was all just fake anyway wasn’t it? I mean, nobody REALLY had people as their slaves did they? Well the problem was that those in this mind set were oceans away from Master Taylor and His views on the lifestyle.
At the end of the word “dude,” which was the last thing A/anybody heard from the girl, was her gurgling and gasping for air. That cheap chain that her would be Dom was holding, had been snatched from his hand by MT. Master Taylor now had the wide eyed girl on her tip toes, both hands gripping at her collar which was not now coming off. Those steel blue daggers of soul searching pupils of His kept piercing through the fear in her eyes. His hand raised and landed so quickly few even saw it, yet nearly A/all heard it. SLAP! A resounding blow to her right cheek. The redness came out immediately. There was a palm print of His on her face before her head sprung back forward.
The Dom in the chair began to stand, as if to make a final disclaimer concerning what apparently once was his. Just as the Dom was halfway out of the chair, Master Taylor snapped His head towards him and cut him near in two with His stare and said, “this bitch now belongs to Master Taylor.” Letting loose on the end of the chain, while still staring at the Dom who was returning to his seat in defeat, the girl began to suck in needed air. Having acquired His newest property, Master Taylor decided to use this sniveling occasion to instruct T/those interested in just how things should be in His chosen lifestyle.
He barked out “Kneel”, at the girl and there was no hesitation in her compliance. A few murmurs could be heard through out the inquisitive faces now. It seemed that a small crowd had been gathering. Master Taylor led the girl about the room as well as any trained puppy. The girl knew better than anger this One.
When Master Taylor was satisfied He had E/everyone’s attention, He stopped at an empty sofa and yanked on the chain. The girl stopped on all fours, head straight ahead, eyes lowered, and waited. Master Taylor sat and stared at the girl and quietly whispered, “Stand, strip and then over My knee bitch.” He never broke eye contact with the slut as she stood and obeyed.
The room was now all about the scene in wonderment and amazement and awe. As the naked girl lay herself over His knees, Master Taylor reached into His vest and pulled out what the old cops used to call a “flap jack.” It is a piece of metal inside a leather bag, sewn together so that is makes a handle. Holding the handle allows the used to “flap” it at the head, or body of any assailant. They were highly unethical and constantly being employed by the police of that era. Well the one Master Taylor had was a little larger than usual, and inside it was a flat weight of metal. With each smack on the girls ass with the awesome weapon came such shrieking and hollering from her.
Master Taylor was holding the girls waist tightly. There was no escape for the girl now. His flap jack was leaving tell tale bluish marks on her naked white ass. Her legs kicked wildly. She screamed and begged for mercy, yet there was none to be had. Master Taylor felt it His honor to teach this bitch to either learn to live by the expected code of conduct, or not enter His realm at all. As in many BDSM scenes, sexual excitement and often times pleasure results. In the procedures between this girl and the Master, sex had absolutely nothing to do with it. Master Taylor was peppering this girls ass and the backs of her thighs with his flap jack devise. She had long ago stopped crying. Now the little tart was sobbing and tightening and loosening up her swollen ass cheeks in anticipation of His next blow. She just couldn’t seem to get His timing down pat though. When she expected another painful blow, nothing. It was as if He’d finally stopped beating her. She’d soon relax her ass cheeks, their dimples would shallow as she did. When He saw the flexing of that well beaten ass, “Wham” down on her ass rained five or six more sharp blows. The pain would begin anew.
This beating was unspeakably merciless. Master Taylor had near beat her once pink little ass raw. The girl was near passing out from the sheer pain of it all. This was not fun for her. There were no more questions about this damn lifestyle left in her. She wanted out of it. Just as soon as this aching searing pain in her ass ended, she was going home and never “munching” again. But the problem was, it had to end first, and Master Taylor was showing no signs of tiring.
Just as she was about to reach the point of no return it stopped. She had noticed His hand now roaming over her well whipped ass as if on inspection. Some sort of ritualistic admiration of the new designs He’d left on her backside. She felt herself automatically rising up her hips to give even greater access to His caress. There were knowing nods from some of the spectators, yet others had walked away moments ago thinking it far too cruel a punishment for their tastes. These ones missed the part of the show where rebellion gives way to submission. This is what true BDSM is about when handled properly, according to Master Taylor anyway.
The blisters under His palms sometimes broke leaving a moistness in His hand. It was all the worse for the girl when that happened. Master Taylor had worked up a great deal of sweat in that hand, and when a blister broke and the sweat mixed in, well the itching sting was just another little hassle,,, of pain. Master Taylor knew exactly what He was doing. He’d certainly done it enough times. If there was a hall of fame for spanking, one of the first inductees would most likely have been Him. The girl still felt as though she was going to receive some sort of reward for surviving the ordeal. Master Taylor, with the soothing, seemingly inviting hand motions directed upon her tender ass, sent the girl a false sense of assuredness that her sensual thought process was working correctly. It was not.
As soon as The Master notices the gyrations of the sluts hips on His knee, He roughly threw her body to the floor. With a thud she landed on her freshly beaten ass with her legs spread wide open for A/all to see her honey pot. Still, she looked up to Him, with the same look of begging most bitches display when they feel they will not be granted that sweet sexual release they feel they so rightfully deserve. Master Taylor recognized her plight at first glance into her eyes, and He so wickedly smiled down at her.
“please Sir, may this girl serve you further?”, the bitch dared ask. As if she were the director and He were the actor. She soon hung her head after the force of His gaze burned her eyes enough. Master Taylor stood, tossed her chain to the floor near her crumpled form, and loudly while extending His arms from His body, with a grand smile on His face, exclaimed, “I leave a gift of a slut for the use of the Guests this night. This creature is not suited for My taste, and besides, F/friends, I must adieu.” There was a round of applause as Master Taylor found and personally bid thanks to the Hosts of the party and departed for Manhattan.
Five thousand dollars was on the table as Master Taylor called Sir Force.
Sir Force was an Asian. He was short and had a scar on His left cheek. Some say it was a woman, some say a tiger, some say it was both.
Sir Force was once involved in the martial arts. He was a student and a teacher and would have become much more indeed. His interests were not in learning any one particular style of instruction however. He’d much rather learn the most pain inducing punishing holds, hits, kicks, and throws only. This was coupled with His uncanny knack of Mastering every single weapon taught to Him. From an early age, perhaps five or six years old, Sir Force had been in some sort of martial arts training or another. He’d won countless medals and trophies. It as when He went professional for a few years that He ran afoul of the wrong people.
Sir Force always was a sadistic prick. He used women as guinea pigs. When ever He learned a new form of torture, He always found an willing, or unwilling if the need be, bitch to practice on. He had an upcoming fight for a title belt He wanted. He was motivated with the heart of a lion but His Achilles’ heel proved to be His passion for masochistic women. His opponent knew about His weakness and sent such a slut to His hotel room the night before the fight.
The girl was Asian about twenty five or so. She new what she was being paid to do so she expected to be beaten. She’d had guys who liked to play Daddy before so she figured this would be easy money. When she opened the door to Sir Force’s room the blow struck her behind her right ear. She fell to her knees and then her forehead bounced off the floor. Pain shot down her back as she knelt there wondering what happened to her. As she looked around, trying to get a fix on what had just happened, a thud sound followed by a shooting pain in her right rib cage hit her with enough force to roll her over twice. She landed on her back as a black clad ninja shoe perched itself on her throat. The lights began to grow dimmer, and dimmer on the girl until…total blackness. When she woke up, she was naked and strapped to a table. It was fashioned as some operating room piece of equipment with cold cheap leather covering.
Sir Force was heating the long thin needles over a candle. The girl could see Him now, half of Him anyway. Sir Force heated three needles and turned the steel circle chair toward His captive. The sight of the scar on the other side of His face caused her to wince. Her face twisted up in fear as His twisted up in impending sadistic bliss.
Her hands were tied above her head to a loop bolt in the wall at the end of the bed. Her legs spread apart wide due to them being fastened to the “X” shaped extendable legs of the table. As her nipples stood proudly upright on their heaving breasts, Sir Force leaned down closer to the girl with one of the needles. Pinching just at the bottom of her left nipple, Sir Force placed the warm tip of the needle against her taut nipple and pushed slowly. The girl let off with an excruciatingly horrible scream. The warmed needle hissed its way through the flesh and exited out the other side of the girls nipple. A trickle of blood ran beneath His thumb and finger as He slid the needle until her nipple was directly in the middle of it.
Again she screamed as Sir Force slide another needle in her other nipple. The helpless girl wished she could pass out but the pain was just this side of unconscious. The more she screamed, the harder Sir Force felt in His cock. It began to take on a life of it’s own when He had a victim to toy with. He knew He would certainly fuck the slut. That as a given. But He had to work Himself up to fucking. He just could not get a hard on from a simple blow job by a slave. No. No. As the sizzling of the second needle settle into her nipple the girl’s body began to squirm in pain. Tears were soaking her long black hair. Her throat was almost hoarse from screaming, but no one came to help her.
Sir Force re heated the third needle and when satisfied rolled His stool down to the girls right leg. The calf muscle hung taut as He bent His face to it. Then the girl felt the hot, searing, pain of the needle as Sir Force poked and pushed it into her flesh. “Agggghhh, Iiiieeeee,” she screamed. Sir Force had a few drops of perspiration forming on His forehead. He loved the sound of her screams. The reaction of each fiber of her body as it twisted and churned in its bonds to seek escape, yet finding none. This is what turned Him on.
Six more needles were heated. As the girl had her ankles bound and her feet naked, Sir Force rolled His stool to the foot of the bed. He visually examined the small feet of the girl. Her bright slut red toe nail polish. The tiny toe ring on her second toe of her right foot attracted His attention. He grasped that foot and spread the second toe from the next. At the web of skin between those two toes, Sir Force slide a hot needle through to the other side. Electricity ran through the girls body now. The pain in her foot was horrible. Going to the smallest toe on the same foot, Sir Force pulled that one apart from the rest. The girl pleaded with Him in vain. The needle found the soft tissue and bore through it in little time. The victim was left with little more to do than lay there, scream and accept her plight.
After Sir Force found ample places to insert His heated toys of delight, He found Himself sexually aroused enough to fuck the slut. He stood and striped showing her His rock hard yet not so large cock. With all needles He’d stuck into her body tonight, sex was the last thing on this sluts mind, but is wasn’t the only thing left on His.
He walked between her wide spread legs and spit into His palm. He used that to lube His cock head then walked right into her dry pussy. He sank His cock as far as it would go. She felt a searing pain as He drug her dark pussy hairs with His cock into her. She could in no wise resist His penetrations. She was covered in pain as the needles had found places she didn’t even know she had. He was slamming into her now using His full weight as He rocked back and forth on His feet. As He felt His balls tingle, He’d reach out and grab an end of one of the needles and begin to slide it back and forth. Each movement of any of them made the slut scream out in a new song of submission and compliance. At this juncture, she would have done anything His heart desired just to have one or two choice needles removed.
His cock exploded as He felt her inner pussy muscles give way to her pained body and grip against Him. He sprayed His seed deep inside her gripping pulsating wet warm pussy. She sucked His every drop willingly. The fucking continued well into the early hours of the morning of the fight. When Sir Force had removed the last needle from the slut and unbound her, it was nearly eight thirty A.M. He’d fucked all night. He’d not practiced, nor had He slept. Later that night He’d also lost the title fight, and His fighting promoters and financial backing.
After Master Taylor called the money went to Wolfblood. Wolfblood was old school Dom. A loner. A scoundrel. A wicked son of a bitch. A cruel streak a mile long down His back. He fancied the whip, bull whip. It’s said He can slice a playing card in half at fifteen yards. Likes to leave His calling card on His bitches, a “W” lashed into their backs. It’s His trademark.
Once at His deserted digs outside the West end of town Wolfblood had a party of His associates. It was a sadistic encounter comprised of Those who had wished to attain to the heights Wolfblood had set with the use of a bullwhip.
Various shapes and sizes and colors of slaves had been flown in from all across the country. They were all interviewed through various sources and assured that they were masochistic enough to endure such dealings without pause. Or so they thought. A few found themselves bound face first to the cross. One of Wolfbloods Friends, a large burley bearded older Gentleman had a six foot curled angry looking frayed bullwhip hanging over His right shoulder. This One fondled the handle as gently as a nursing fold nuzzles its mother teat in a field. Before Him was a blonde beauty of at least five foot eleven. She had her hair in pig tails which were draped over her front shoulders. The rest of her was bare from her back to her feet. She had her hands tied over her head and a blindfold and ball gag complete her attire. This large gentleman stood, as the gathering parted and left a six foot space directly in line with His victim. With the flash of one thick arm the swishing sound of the flying black biter flew through the air and landed on the small of the girls back immediately leaving a wide red stripe. “AAAAGGGHHH,” the girl yelled as her body jumped side to side. Again the tip of the lash found a new mark, and the skin ripped open and exposed white pink meat, which soon turned crimson trickles. The next bite occurred just under the slaves left ass cheek. There had been three or four consistent swift blows heard, then felt at various parts of her exposed back parts. She danced in the tune of pain and her muffled screams were an added plus to the adoring sadistic crowd. Then in an unexpected run of bad luck, the One wielding the ominous lash missed His mark and had sliced a near by candle in two. The girl jumped at the sound of the slap against the wall after the tip sliced through the candle just the same as if it had hit her. But the on lookers knew the contest was half finished now due to the miss of contact with the girls body.
A new slut was bound to replace the one the Challenger had previously used. Wolfblood always selected fresh meat to whip so as to ensure His markings were not confused with those of another. As they carried the last victim away, the eyes of the new slave were as wide as saucers. Her belly pumping in and out wildly as she sucked in her breath. A mild protest could be seen as she struggled against the two male slaves who were leading her by the wrists towards the two cuffs hanging from a swivel hook in the ceiling. As she was secured, her clothing was sliced off her body by a Dom who was known for His knife play with skin, although this was a bull whip contest and He was otherwise not involved at the present. Yet with deftly skill He worked the knife with the passion of a machinist. Never touching the supple skin of the new slave, yet shredding her clothing as a seamstress.
There is an art to knife and razor play to be sure. This particular Master knew exactly how deep and where to slice skin so as to extract the most amount of pain and blood without actually causing serious injury or death. Of course, in the learning process, unfortunate occurrences had happened. A check of local missing women reports would surely conclude that some of them had had the misfortune of coupling with Sir Blade, as He was fond of being addressed. None the less, at this juncture, His hand was steady and He’d managed to impress the gathering at the home of Wolfblood without as much as a nick on the lovely shape of the near hysterical slave girl.
The crowd watched as Wolfblood walked over to the back of the slut. In His huge hands were bundles of plastic clothespins. He took the time of Picasso placing them on her shoulders, her spine, her collar bone, her ear lobes, the tight skin of her stretched out elbows. The green, blue, red, pink, and yellow colored plastic hung like adornments on a Christmas tree the length of the slaves body. Each one had a different color yet no two clothespins were the same. There was a point to this placement. They were clipped to the back of the girls knees. Biting into that most sensitive taught skin. Two each were on the backs of her ankles just above her heels. They would certainly be difficult targets from any distance. Two each bit into the skin under the wrists, just below the leather cuffs. Then just for fun, Wolfblood softly gathered the hanging hair of the victim of the hour and used the bunch of it to cause enough hair for one bright red clothespin to stand straight up towards the ceiling a mere inches from the slaves head.
Once sufficiently adorned to Wolfbloods satisfaction He stood and fondled the decorations. The slave groaned and shivered as He pinched and twisted the plastic suckers ensuring that her movements would not dislodge any of them. He walked over to His war chest and bent. When He arose, in His hand was now a twenty three foot long, black leather, hard as steel brand new bull whip. There were audible gasps and frightening groans from the audience.
Wolfblood smiled and strolled the twenty five paces between He and the victim. The gathering sips their drinks and puffed their smokes and spread apart wider. None of them had ever heard of Wolfblood missing, but again none of them wanted to be the first person to be on the receiving end of any of His potential mistakes either.
“It would be in your best interest not to move slut, as I can’t be held responsible for your lack of trust and conviction in My abilities bitch,” He loudly exclaimed, not so much for the comfort of the slave, but to boost His own bravado to His guests.
“Call out a color somebody,” Wolfblood commanded as He swigged from a jug of something only He seemed to savor. The purple liquid ran down the sides of both corners of His lips as a Man’s voice yelled, “Purple.”
Without hardly lowering the jug from His mouth with His strong left hand, Wolfblood raised, circled over His head, His large right arm and flicked His wrist with the quickness of a cobra, and the swishing sound was followed by the plastic purple clothespin that was just recently attached to the back of the sluts right ankle bouncing off the wooden wall of the room and sliding to a halt on the carpet. Not a mark was found on the girls ankle, save for the two bite marks left by the removed clothespin. Yet she screamed just the same.
“Another color,” Wolfblood insisted as again He hoisted the large brown jug to His lips. “Blue” came the challenge and the next sound of the wind gave way to an earth shattering scream.
The blue clothespin was attached to the clit of the slut and hung in a two inch space downward between her ample thighs. As the end of the last stroked the middle of the blue clothespin exactly forward, still the gripping bite of the teeth were roughly snapped off the sluts clitty. “Ahhh, please stop Sir no more please,” the bitch sobbed. There was such pain in her clit she’d thought that Wolfblood had cut her clit completely off. He had not. Staggering a tad, Wolfblood continued to call out colors. There was no end to the enthusiasm of the guests. “White”, “Green” “Blue” “Orange”, the colors kept being yelled and at each challenge this Lash Master called simply Wolfblood never failed to displease anyone, except the hanging victim. For as the lash found the appointed color, it left the bite of the removed object.
Even though the woman was in obvious fear of severe punishment, the only coloring unaccounted for on her body was the left by the bites of the clothespins themselves, not a touch of the whip had befallen the woman’s body, yet!
After all the requests of His guests had been satisfied is the point where the slut found desperation, a well formed conclusion indeed. For it was at this point that Wolfblood decided to pay His fullest attention. The lash circled His large full head of hair for what seemed like an eternity, hissing like a snake in anger, until it landed unseen, directly on the top back of the girls left shoulder blade. The skin parted like the red sea. Red being the operative word as a crimson flow trickled halfway the length of her creamy white skin. Words can’t describe the sounds she made.
Another cut of the angry tongue of the whip found her bouncing right ass cheek. Immediately the blood splattered hitting the white blouse of a Guest standing far too close to the action. In succession the swishing and slapping of the will of Wolfblood found various marks on the skin of this hapless slut. Her body danced and jumped with each blow. She had tried in vain to attempt to twist to the front only to have the teeth of the whip find the depths of her now exposed belly button. Before she could suck in her breath to scream, each nipple had been cut open, yet not one inch of the supple flesh of her breasts had been touched.
The girl again found the where with all to turn her back again to her attacker. This could not have been timed better had Wolfblood commanded it Himself. As the sore, terrified, bleeding slave attempted to protect what remained of her clit, tits, and belly, four sharp distinctive, well known twangs of pain found the exact center of the sluts fresh white back. Her screams subsided as consciousness left her and total peace and darkness overtook her. The Guests, as well as Wolfblood were, however, wide eyed awake and nodding and applauding what they were viewing. A large well place, freshly bleeding “W” had been left where once pristine white skin had once been. As the passed out slut was being removed by the male slaves who existed for just such purposes of servitude to Wolfblood, the crowd followed their Champion out to the back yard where a full pig had been being turned over a roaring fire by yet other slaves. The party continued as a remaining female slave picked up Wolfblood’s favorite instrument of destruction, used a clean soft cloth to wipe its length, then neatly coiled it up and properly returned it back to His war chest to await it’s employment by Master Wolfblood once more.
During the next hand, that had a table stake of nearly four thousand dollars was won with an ace high flush by the tall dark Master who was now comfortably sitting in His study pondering the previous events.
BLACKMASTERX had held the ace and king of hearts as His down cards while MT turned up three hearts for the show cards. The bets had mounted to that vast amount as each Gentleman raised and raised again with the upturning of every card. These were Men who hated to loose at anything. Each One had failure as a word to be excluded from His vocabulary and purpose. At any cost, even should One of them not come in first place, they seldom congratulated the One who did with much more than a nod or a snide snort of the nostril. Then They simply sat round the table and watched the winner rake in Their money. BLACKMASTERX was now doing the raking.
Of them all BLACKMASTERX was the most sadistic individual and the other Three knew it. They had all wanted to attain themselves to His level of accepted and respected reputation. Each of Them wanted to be known as the Sadistic Ruler of the acclaimed south side of town but as yet none had ousted Him of such distinction. BLACKMASTERX had little thought that Any ever would.
He’d spend times such as these when He sat silently in His parlor before the roaring fire just creating more and more sadistic scenes to amuse Himself. It was in these solemn time that He’d create more and more of His treatments.
It was during a time such as this that He’d decided how best to initiate one of His newest acquisitions, the slave char. Char had been a rogue slave who had escaped and endured the talents of All three of His poker partners at one time or another. She’d felt and seemingly enjoyed the flap jack pain of Master Taylor once.
There were indeed piercing holes left on various spots of her body attesting to the fact that she had also encountered and survived a session with Sir Force, along with slice scares He’d left by the craftiness of His use of razor blades. Yet and still she lived.
And even though the near branded “W” scar was quite visible in the center of her back, char had not accepted the collar of Wolfblood either.
Yes All of Them craved the most prized possession of the BLACKMASTERX, and a protest was made as He raked in the winnings from His flush.
“This game bores Me,” Master Taylor announced.
“Yes the stakes are shit,” exclaimed Sir Force.
Wolfblood chimed in with, “Let’s play for something worth more than chump change Men.”
BLACKMASTER knew what was up next. He picked up His cell phone which was laying on the card table near Him and mashed the number one. Immediately He heard her familiar voice asking, “Where and when Master?” He hissed into the phone, “The black box, the duffle bag“, and then He gave her the address of the card game. “Yes Master, twenty minutes,” she replied and the line went dead.
With a wicked grin BLACKMASTER X smiled towards the players and placed a cool forty eight thousand dollars in the middle of the table and said, “All this, and chars freedom, against each of Your best two slaves should she ask to for mercy before I’ve finished with her Gentlemen. Winner takes all or simply shut the fuck up and Let’s All just call it a night boys.”
The gauntlet had been laid. The bold challenge made perfectly clear. BLACKMASTERX would put up His cherished char against all the money the Gentlemen had on the table, plus His own. Six pair of eyes stared into the Others as the Three Gentlemen sought weakness or hesitation at the bet. Pushing all His cash, nearly twenty seven thousand dollars up against that of BLACKMASTERX, Wolfblood made His intentions clear. He was followed by to total amount of nearly a half million dollars collectively in one huge pile in the center of the table. The challenge had been met by All.
Twenty minuets passed as the doorbell rang. Without even waiting it opened and the blonde woman with the hanging diamond earrings and black ankle length sable coat entered carrying in one hand a small black leather case and in the other a green duffle bag.
There was an hushed silence as All four Gentlemen watched as char strolled directly to her BLACKMASTERX and placed the box and the duffle bag on the table near His glass of scotch. First she walked over to the bar and with her bare hand picked up two ice cubes, and her other hand cradled a 12 year old bottle of scotch and she returned to Him and refreshed His half empty drink. He smiled at her observance. Next the girl removed the coat and let it drop to the floor, revealing that lovely naked body. Tall, lean, with the tell tale markings of previous encounters yet still perfectly acceptable for more, much, much more.
There were no words need between slave and Master. He simply watched as the girl teetered on her black patent leather six inch heels and strolled to the front of an empty leather sofa. The girl char obediently knelt with her face buried into the cool cushion in the assumed submissive position.
BLACKMASTER X was in no hurry. He sat solid and raised the refreshed drink to His lips and slowly sipped. The warming liquid rolled around over His tongue as He took His sweet time swallowing.
“Get on with it BLACKMASTER,” Sir Force demanded. He was anxious to see if this was the night His black associate over did Himself and then, when next His warmed needles found the yielding flesh of that bitch char, she’d beg for the collar of Sir Force.
There was no apparent acknowledgement to the insistence of Sir Force. Nobody, Dom or slave ordered BLACKMASTERX. Such annoyances only seemed to compel Him to delay further. It was not until He’d completely finished His refreshment, and then watched the remaining melting of the ice cubes leave only water in His goblet before BLACKMASTERX stood. All the while char remained kneeling face first in the cushions of the sofa.
As He approached the raised up ass of the slut, BLACKMASTERX removed the thick leather belt from His trousers. He really didn’t need it hold up His pants. His tailored trousers wrapped snugly still around His waist. Slowly, methodically BLACKMASTERX doubled the leather belt, and laid the buckle and tip end securely in the palm of His large black hand. With the movements of a seasoned traffic cop directing heavy traffic at some busy downtown corner, the talented wrist of BLACKMASTERX bent and flexed swiftly, effortlessly and landed loud, sharp flat slaps against the bouncing white ass of His kneeling pet char. She uttered not one sound. The red welts raised suddenly at each blow. The force increased yet it appeared that the arm of BLACKMASTERX hadn’t much moved at all from it’s original position. He was merely warming up. One of His usual pre session exercises which most Doms used as Their finishing moves.
A constant bouncing and shaking of that well turned ass was clearly seen by the Other Gentlemen. “Damn,” cussed Master Taylor under His breath. A full five minuets of leather slapping ass continued before BLACKMASTERX dropped the belt to the floor and said, “Replace it bitch.” Through tear streaked eyes, char quickly rose and turned to face Her Master. Bending she retrieved the instrument that had just pounded and reddened her sore ass and deftly looped it through each of His belt loops and secured it directly above His zipper, thusly returning His near perfect attire. Perfect save for the opened tie He’d undone. This was yet another sign that her performance was not quite completed. Finishing she then knelt before Him. Her head bowed, eyes cast at His shiny shoes, knees spread wide apart. Her pussy slit was opened and the hood of her clit was quite visible to All. Her hands were gripped behind her back and once more she waited.
BLACKMASTERX returned to the card table and opened the green duffle bag. He selected a coil of damp hemp about three feet in length. Bending to the sluts left nipple BLACKMASTER tightly wound the slimy rope around and around the full fleshy breast and used a slip knot to secure it just behind chars nipple. The exposed flesh of her tit that was seen between the loops resembled what One might see hanging in a butchers window in the sausage section. Discoloration had been caused from the tightness and still not one whimper could came from the desired little slut. Her other breast was then just as tightly secured in the same manner and it was only then that a slight hiss of air was barely audible from her. That was not enough to end the wager of honor, even though Wolfblood had hoped Someone would had made that challenge.
Once done with her breasts, BLACKMASTERX then entered the duffle back again and used a longer piece of wet hemp to tightly wrap around the girls waist creating an hour glass shape. The ends of this rope then snaked down around both ankles and then upwards to bind the sluts wrists behind her. She was kneeling, breast bound and going exactly no where. BLACKMASTERX then walked behind char and stroked her long blonde hair which fell down halfway to the middle of her back. Oh how he loved her long hair. It had been used to His advantage in such sessions often. Tonight would be no different. T/they both knew it. Roughly BLACKMASTERX yanked at the ends of the sluts hair, forcing her chin upward. Her eyes viewed the ceiling as He used the remaining ends of the hemp which held fast her waist, ankles and wrists to tie a knot in the ends of her hair. The term “hog tied” brought a sly grin to the lips of Sir Force as He intensely watched on.
With the point of His shoe BLACKMASTERX sharply kicked char directly in her belly. She reacted as anyone would with a face full of pain. Had her hair not been secured to her wrists behind her, she would have fallen face first and doubled over from the kick, but then of course, that was the purpose of tying her hair in such fashion. There would be no escape this night, there never was from a session with BLACKMASTERX.
Again the duffle bag produced a spring loaded hard, thick rubber eight inch dildo with a flat base. It was battery operated. To cock the spring all One had to do was firmly hold the base of the thing and push downward at the head. The clicking sound announced that the trigger was loaded. BLACKMASTERX smiled and held the toy to the gaping lips of His slut. She knowingly licked and wetted the intruder as best she could. Then as He snatched it from her lips, char hoped she’d got it wet enough. BLACKMASTERX then bent and lifted the secured girls bottom off the floor high enough to place the spring loaded device at the entrance of her asshole, then He settled her back down upon it. The head automatically inserted itself just past her well accustomed sphincter muscle. With knowing patience she waited. Her wait was not extreme. BLACKMASTERX bent and switch on the device. It automatically slammed upwards as the spring released and shot directly up the sluts asshole. Even though it had been there before, just as every time it happened her throat groaned but not in pain but pleasure. “Shit, you little fucking slut,” yelled out Master Taylor without speaking. He’s shown His hand and it was a looser already, just as Sir Force did earlier. The thick intruder bounced and slammed back down to the floor only to be reloaded by the inner spring which cause it to jet straight back upwards to her stretched out asshole. The damn girl seemed to be attempting to bounce down even harder to match the force of the mechanical ass fucking. A knowing grin directed toward char reassured her that she was once again well pleasing her BLACKMASTERX.
Slowly turning now to the little black box on the table, BLACKMASTERX bent to retrieve it, then paused. He turned instead with the empty goblet and strolled toward the bar. Using tongs He plunked two ice cubes which clinked loudly into the bottom of the glass, then studied the various bottles on the shelve. Hell, everybody knew that BLACKMASTERX only drank 12 year old blended scotch, and that there must have been five or six up there for Him to select from. But He was using a dramatic pause, intended to un nerve any remaining doubters of His intensions to once again win, as He always did. He picked up a bottle and poured to near full its contents. Then He gulped half of the goblet down His throat and refilled it. All the while that hard plastic ass fucking continued without vocal resistance from the prized slut on the floor.
BLACKMASTERX, having finished the contents and a third time refilling His goblet placed it on the card table. He then took up the small black leather case. Opening it He held out two shiny brand new metal alligator clamps. The sharp teeth tightly fitted between each other. Handing one to Wolfblood and the other to Sir Force, BLACKMASTERX said, ‘Place them where you will Gentlemen.’
A slick smile flashed as Sir Force stood quickly and nearly ran toward the slut and opened and snapped the sharp toothed shiny clamp directly upon the sluts bottom lip. Her tongue only extended as she lapped at the ensuing blood the biting teeth caused, yet she offered no protest. “Fucking little pig,” Sir Force hissed in dismay returning to His seat.
Wolfblood went straight for one of her purple nipples, but was stopped upon hearing, “Not there Wolf,” which came from BLACKMASTERX. Undaunted, but a bit peeved, Wolfblood bent and prepared to attach the digging teeth into the slut’s high and exposed clit, only to have the words, “Nor there, Friend,” ring in His hairy ears.
“Damn it BLACKMASTER, You make this too difficult. How the fuck are We expected to have half a chance to win this worthless slut if You keep telling Me where I can place this damn clamp?”
With His usual postponement of speech, BLACKMASTER replied, “If you can find no spot on her slut frame but these to punish you don’t deserve to win Wolf.” This pissed Wolfblood off and He stood and sneered down at the bitch and hissed in her ear, “This night your ass shall belong to Me cunt, and then the black snake shall skin you alive this time bitch.” There was not defiance, but a stare of, “you want to bet” met His eyes as the girl merely looked up at Him and awaited His decision of the placement of the painful clamp. She didn’t have long to ponder. He made the unsuspected action of slightly turning His huge hairy hand and opening the dangerous clamp. He then attached it quite forcefully and snugly to the bridge of her nose, sideways. Master Taylor winched at this action. Blood trickled down the sluts nostrils and mixed with the sudden flow of tears that she dripped from the corners of both eyes. Damn this fucking hurt and even BLACKMASTER made a mental note of such distinguished placement of the painful instrument, yet He remained undaunted in her performance and His success.
As Wolfblood returned to His seat, BLACKMASTERX reached into His duffle bag and produced His well known tube of warm salve. He put some on His fingertips and anointed the sluts nipples and clit with it. Instantly the warming sensation came to the girl, despite the cutting pain and flowing blood from the bridge of her nose, or the constant ass pounding that hard plastic spring loaded weapon was providing.
Then the clamp on her lower lip quivered as BLACKMASTERX now attached the small metal tabs which adhered to the ointment. Then He sat at the card table and showed the square remote control to His card buddies.
“Each of you may have five minutes to mash and hold either or both of the top two red buttons. Should the slut beg for You to stop, you win! Otherwise at the end of Your appointed time, You must pass the remote control to the next One. He two shall have five full minutes to mash, alternate and continue to hold either of the top two buttons to see if the slut quits or begs for mercy, if not, it’s then on to the remaining Player. The only thing is that I alone shall utilize the bottom button. Should any of You three touch it, it will be considered a foul and the three of You become looser and shall immediately pay up to Me or else.” Ending His warning, BLACKMASTERX handed the remote to Master Taylor. With near childlike glee MT quickly mashed and released the top left red button. The ass pummeled slut’s body twisted to the left in obvious pain as twelve watts of electricity ran through her nipple. Her shocked look contorted in a grotesque shape. Her tummy sucked in and out. She was definitely in pain at her stinging nipple. Again the right top button was mashed and her kneeled dance of shocked pain twisted her torso back to the right. As Master Taylor continued to alternate the mashing of the two red buttons the girl twisted in response. The alligator clamps on her lip and the bridge of her nose also twisted causing unknown intense pain but not nearly matching that at her nipples nor her asshole. Yet as the time expired, Master Taylor, nor the rest heard not the beg of mercy from char and being resolved to the loss of not only His money but two of His most prized bitches, He passed the remote control on to Sir Force.
Sir Force felt that the distance between the slut and the remote somehow lessoned the severance of it’s effect. He stood and walked directly above the bound kneeling slut and smiled down at her. As His cruel lips parted showing His well cared for teeth, Sir Force simply used both hands to mash both top buttons fully. The amount of wattage ran through the sluts nipples and caused her body to into a series of uncontrolled convulsions. Her breath came in short spurts. It had only been three full minutes and already her knees were bleeding from the carpet burns. She twisted her head back and forth, at least as far as her tied hair allowed. There was no doubt that this was indeed not even done heretofore by BLACKMASTERX Himself. From somewhere deep inside the slut came the thought that it one day would though, now that she had proven that she could absorb such torture. As the time limit ran out, Sir Force cursed, “Fuck you, you ugly, sniveling little useless slut, who the Hell wants your sorry ass anyways bitch?” Everyone, especially char and BLACKMASTERX knew that it was His last statement of defeat and defiance. He’d lost her again, damn it all.
As Sir Force slammed the remote device on the card table in front of the remaining challenger, Wolfblood the large hairy beast of a Man stood and cried foul.
“To what end?” demanded BLACKMSTERX.
“You have rigged the challenge BLACKMASTERX, for We have been denied the most vulnerable source of this sluts pain by Your failure to permit Us to zap the sluts clit. Even you know that no human slave alive could withstand a full five minutes of that intense pain. So I charge foul and claim the pig, and the money, and the bitches of the Others as Mine.” Ending this bold statement Wolfblood slammed the remote to the table and stared directly into the coal black eyes of BLACKMASTERX.
BLACKMASTERX was undaunted by the bellowing of the mountain of a Man directed towards Him. He did, however take solemn offense at having His honor questioned. He stood and pulled out one of His cigars from His vest. He picked up the remote and eyeballed each of the Others sternly as He licked the end of the cigar. Next BLACKMASTERX walked over to the still bound and ass fucked girl on her knees. He raised a large black open palm and slapped the slut full on the fat of her right cheek. The force was enough to not only cause the biting alligator clamp to loose it grip at the bridge of her nose and fly into a dark spot nearby, followed by a splatter of blood, but also to dislodge the one from her lower lip which left a ripped bleeding lip. Amazingly however, the girl simply rolled her head as far as she could with the force of the blow, stared directly up at her BLACKMASTERX and through pained choked whispers said, ‘thank you BLACKMASTERX.’ He then bent and gently stuck out His broad tongue and started to lick up the bleeding from the hole left in her lower lip. He savored it as he savored His scotch. Then He kissed the girl fully on her mouth. His tongue snaked deeply into her welcoming mouth. She knew to keep her tongue laying flat against the bottom of her jaw so as to allow His forceful tongue to explore the insides of her slave mouth at His pleasure. He licked the upper ridges of her mouth. He licked the insides of her lips. His tongue licked and coated her tongue with His own saliva which she swallowed as if it were fine wine. His hands reached behind her head an He yanked her forward against His mouth, even as her hair was being near pulled out by the roots. That was just how forceful His kiss was. And no matter what the circumstances surrounding them, each time BLACKMASTERX kissed char, it was welcome, soothing, and comfortable to the bitch. His kiss had that and even a much greater effect on not only her lips, nor her body, yet down to the core of her very being. She loved each and every time BLACKMASTERX kissed her.
Breaking the kiss her Master leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Remember the new trick you learned My pet?” With a knowing smile she nodded her head as far as she could and answered, “Of course Master.” A smile from Him reassured her of the soon to follow course of events, and again the soft kiss of her Master found her lips, albeit much too briefly for her.
Then standing and facing His Friends, BLACKMASTERX spoke. “So I have been negligent in offering such a talent have I?” He asked expecting not to a reply. “Well than first let Me say that You, Wolfblood, you overstuffed, smelly, foul appearing beast of a poor excuse for a human, I shall permit You to inspect the effects of My creation. Lumber Your oversized frame to the fireplace and fetch the wooden stool there. Bring it and place it directly in front of this slut and sit Your big ass down. You shall be close enough to see the thin blue sparks that fly from the metal tab attached to the bitches clit as I fully depress it for Your entire five minuets. Then, if she begs for mercy, she’s yours big boy, but if not, You, as well as the Others will concede Your loss and in three days this very slut shall be at your homes to collect My winnings.”
Wolfblood hated being spoken to in such a manor yet was not about to rebuke BLACKMASTERX. He brought the stool and seated Himself directly in front of the sluts pussy lips. He could see her already moistened hairs and the flood of pre cum juice in puddles on the carpet beneath her. He could hear the snapping sound of the pummeling ass fucking device as He surveyed the object of His desire.
“Time this Taylor,” BLACKMASTER shouted over His shoulder.
“Begin,” Master Taylor replied. Everyone heard the constant buzzing, they smelled the burning of the sensitive clit flesh and most of all Wolfblood indeed saw the tiny blue sparks that jumped across the metal tab on chars clitty.
The slave jumped and gyrated and did movements usually associated with those of a well trained belly dancer, except she was doing them on her knees. There were sounds that escaped her lips that could not be understood. Her very eyes rolled into the backs of their sockets. Her teeth shattered and clicked together in a rhythm of their own making a clicking sound. The amazed Wolfblood had once even smelled the stench of His own beard being burned as His face drew too close to the wattage from the sluts clit. He cursed and used both hands to put the small flame out.
“Time,” shouted Master Taylor. And at that precise moment BLACKMASTERX mashed both nipple buttons along with continuing to depress the one shocking the sluts clit. Instantly, even before Wolfblood had time to back away, char squirted a splash of her cum from her pussy. The spray shot directly against the large bridge of Wolfbloods nose and cause both His eyes to close as her slut juice splashed into them.
“BITCH!,” Wolfblood yelled and stood, kicking the stool out from under Him as he wiped the sluts cum from His eyes. With anger He lifted His huge right hand as if to strike the slut for the insult when, a sharp tug at His stringy, matter hair twisted His face to the left. His temple felt the cold hard steel of the glock forty automatic being forced into it. Then the stern, yet definite voice of BLACKMASTERX crept into the ear of Wolfblood saying, “Touch her and she’ll watch you die here and now.”
With solemn resolve Master Taylor, Sir Force, and especially now Wolfblood all knew the out come of this encounter…They had lost. Wolfblood, still not exactly sure of His next breath clearly spoke, ‘I yield.”
Well all that was 72 hours ago. This evening a lone BLACKMASTERX was home alone in His favorite chair, sitting before a roaring fireplace, enjoying a goblet of twelve year old blended scotch.
A draft overtook Him and He smiled. Then the familiar clickity clack of those black patented leather heels was heard nearby on His well shined hard wood floors.
The tall, beautiful blonde char, in her ankle length black sable coat appeared first. Behind her chained together were six very fine looking sluts, heads bowed, naked and bare footed.
Chained to chars wrist was a gray metal suitcase. The slave turned to the captives behind her and snapped, “Kneel sluts” to which all six immediately obeyed. The girl then walked to the table beside her Master’s chair, reached into the pocket of her coat and withdrew a small gold key. She opened the suitcase and turned it towards BLACKMASTERX and softly, reverently said, with lowered eyes, “Your winnings Master.”
He sipped from and emptied the contents of His goblet and raised it to the slave. She dropped her coat then dropped to her knees, accepted the goblet, rose and strolled near naked, save for her heels towards His bar and using bare hands, placed two ice cubes into the bottom of it. Then she selected one of His favorite bottles of scotch and filled the glass. Kneeling she crawled back to His chair and raised the goblet above her head towards Him with both hands. He accepted it, and using the flat of His shoe pushed the slut causing her to fall on her ass. This caused a snicker or giggle or two from the six sluts kneeling close by but char paid no attention to that, not yet anyway.
“Well done My pet, any complaints?” He asked, without looking down at His trusted slut.
“Only one Master, but then Sir Wolfblood placed a large finger to His temple and coughed up the remaining cash, snapped His fingers and those two sluts in the rear appeared Sir.”
With a mere look of utter disgust, BLACKMASTERX nodded then commanded char thusly, “I believe it was from the rear of that chain I just heard snickers and giggling. Take that slave chain to the basement and begin their training, My pet.”
The slut char bowed and crawled backwards until she was near the newly acquired slaves. Then she stood full right and slapping the one closet to her fully on the mouth she ordered, “Retrieve my garment slut.” The rest of the girls near fell over as this slut jerked to compliance and cradled gently the soft sable coat. Then char walked to the back of the line and stood between the two sluts who dared snicker at her abuse from her Master and said, “you two shall be taught first, and last pigs.”
BLACKMASTERX rang a tiny bell as He listened to the shuffling bare feet leave coupled with the faint clickity clack of chars heels. A strapping male slave entered from His left knelt and said, “at your service BLACMASTERX.”
“Close and remove this case of money to the pillows of My bed bitch boy, then return to your normal duties.”
“as you wish BLACKMASTERX Sir, and shall I count it as well Sir?”, the humble boy questioned.
“Has it ever been necessary to doubt I’ve fully collected My winnings idiot?” BLACKMASTERX hissed at the frightened slave boy.
“Never BLACKMASTERX Sir, please forgive my ignorance.” And with that both the cash and the scared bitch boy dismissed.
As BLACKMASTERX sat back nursing the scotch and enjoying the warmth of the fire, He smiled to Himself and thought, “this bitch boy too shall receive a refresher course in servitude from His prized pet char”, he thought to Himself, but then, that’s another story for another time.
THE END
SUBMITTED AND WRITTEN BY
SIR STRYKER 11/14/04 [email protected]
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THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB by SIR STRYKER 
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