One of our hostesses, Demelza, drifted close enough that I could tap her shoulder. I pulled her close before she could speak, a firm finger across her pretty mouth. She squirmed in my grip until she registered it was me, and the contact felt strangely electric. Too long without sweet, wet pussy.
“There’s a problem downstairs, Miss Devere needs to sort it out.”
“There is? What kind of a problem?”
“Whatever problem you want. Just get her off the main floor. She’s making a spectacle of the whole fucking place.”
She looked over to find Faye tracing Masque’s tattoo with a finger. “I’ll try my best.”
“Don’t tell her I’m here. Tell nobody I’m out of my office.”
She nodded. “Whatever you say, Sir.”
Sir.It had been a while.
I watched with delight as Demelza made her way across to Faye, but my mood was quashed in a beat as the drunk cow made no effort to deal with the crisis. She waved Demelza away with a sweep of an arm, and kept on chatting. My hostess returned, head downcast.
“Sorry, Sir. She said she would handle it later. After the scene.”
“What scene?”
Faye answered the question for me. As per usual Explicit practice, the lighting changed to signal action on stage, and the crowd hustled into position. My pulse quickened as mybusiness partnershimmied her way through the throng, but Masque didn’t follow her lead. He sought out his fiancée instead, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulders and guiding her along with the rest of the onlookers. My eyes scanned bodies for movement. It was a thickset guy with a shocking blue Mohican that stepped up after Faye. The one they call Sergeant. SergeantSinto give his moniker its full cringe-worthy glory. His muscled neck was dark with ink, military-style art that made him look as though he snapped necks for breakfast. He smiled as Faye took her position, running heavy hands up the toned flesh of her thighs. My mouth turned dry.
She was smiling as he groped at her through the thin fabric of her dress. His hands squeezed at her tits before his mouth clamped onto her, slurping and slopping his tongue all over her perfect skin. She towered over him by at least six inches in her stilettos, rocking gently as Sergeant’s chubby fingers slid her dress straps down over her tanned shoulders. He freed the swollen cups of her lace bra, yanking her dress further still until it gathered around her slender hips. Her body was as lithe and tight as I remembered; a body that screamed to be touched, begged to be punished. I’d never answered its call; more fucking fool me. Business always came first, except it didn’t. It didn’t come anywhere in Faye’s world, clearly, and neither did I. I should have just fucked the bitch when I had chance, pounded that tight little cunt so hard she’d be too sore to leave.
She stepped out of her dress as Sergeant inched it to the floor, and his face was between her legs, flickering tongue soaking her pussy through the skimpy gauze of her panties. His dumb fucking skull obscured my view of her, but I saw enough. A twist of fire in my stomach, spreading down to thump in my cock as Faye moaned for him.
Strong hands tore her panties from her body, then held them up as the crowd cheered. He forced the scrap of fabric in her mouth, and she held it tight as he rammed two fingers deep between her legs. He lacked finesse, pistoning away without skill. I watched the heave of his arm as he rammed her, jerky movements like a teenager at a sleepover. He unhooked her bra and threw it into the crowd, and still they cheered. My eyes feasted on her gorgeous tits, the even tan darkening into the pert little nubs of her nipples. They were ripe enough for a handful. Ripe enough to sink your teeth into, too.
Clearly Sergeant shared my train of thought. He clamped a wet mouth around her tit, sucking like a thirsty traveller. And then he fucking bit her. Hard. Hard enough for her to wail through her gag. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t move, perfectly accepting of his punishment and the slam of his fingers deep inside her pussy.
She’d changed. This Faye was another league of submissive. My pulse pumped behind my eyes as Sergeant released her tit. The bruise was already forming, deep red teeth marks on perfect skin. Faye was trembling, high on adrenaline and alcohol. I held my breath as she offered him her other breast, lolling her head back with her eyes closed as Sergeant provoked the crowd.
Bite, bite, bite.
Another wail as he sank his teeth in again. Surely this one would draw blood. The thought sent me reeling, disgust and excitement rolling into one big fucking typhoon. Sergeant presented her bruised tits to the crowd like some kind of deranged trophy hunter, and they loved him for it.
He shackled Faye’s wrists high above her head, and took hold of a whip from the back of the stage. There was no warning of the first crack, but I heard it loud across the dancefloor. I flinched as she cried out, cursing Sergeant under my breath. The singletail curved around her ribs, catching the soft underside of her bruised tit. The stripe darkened and pooled with blood, and he was straight at it again, incompetent bastard. I took a step forward, but Faye was groaning for more. Sergeant wasn’t even listening to her. He was too busy with his cock in his hand, pumping himself between strikes.
He was too quick with the whip, stealing her breath before she had chance for composure. Her feet twitched and trembled in her heels, but she gritted her teeth and held firm.
Sergeant came to her front, pressed the whip into her tits and pulled her panties from her mouth. “You can thank me now,” he said. Twat.
“Thank you, Sir!”
Her voice was breaking, addictive in its fragility.Shewas addictive.
She was trained. Highly fucking trained.
My cock was so hard it pained, but my fists were clenched tight.
Sergeant ran his filthy tongue over her lips. “You want more?”
“Yes, Sir! More, please!”
He ditched the singletail in favour of a crop, slapping it hard against the pale, soft skin of her thighs. They marked nicely, deep rosy blotches glistening with her excitement. The ghost of a smile on her face was magical, beautiful. She was high as a kite, drunk in subspace. Floating on a sea of endorphins that’d have her craving his cock, and his fists and whatever else he could aim in her direction. The crowd was rippling, and Faye was loving the attention, spreading her legs so they could see her glistening wet pussy in all its glory. My breath caught in my throat as metal glinted in the spotlights; two neat little rings through her swollen labia. They were new. My tongue twitched in my mouth, swimming at the thought of tasting her.
Sergeant’s grunts were rough as sandpaper. He tapped her pussy with the crop and Faye groaned and tensed into the shackles. “You want cock, don’t you, bitch? Beg me for cock?”