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Authors: Robyn Masters

Hellfire Part Two

BOOK: Hellfire Part Two
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HELLFIRE

Part Two

 

by
Robyn Masters

 

Chapter
Five

             
Dressed in black, an older man in his late 50’s carrying a worn black leather bag enters Hellfire on a Saturday night.

             
“Welcome to Hellfire. Are you a member?” asks the gatekeeper at the front door.

             
“No. A friend suggested I check this place out,” the gentleman replies.

             
“Not a problem. Here is a list of rules that must be followed. Only safe and consensual play is allowed. The donation for this evening is $30.00.”

             
The man hands over two twenties and the girl replies, “Thanks for the tip. You can go on through the black curtain.”

             
“Um.. I need change. That was not a tip. I don’t make much money so every dollar is important.”

             
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you were tipping me. Most men do when they come here,” she replies.

             
“I am not like most men. My change please?”

             
She gives the man a ten dollar bill and looks away obviously a little pissed about not getting tipped at all. The man stashes the bill in his pocket and walks through the curtain and proceeds to the main room. For never having been to Hellfire before, he seems to be very familiar with the layout of the building.

             
He passes through the accessories room and enters the main dungeon room. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, his senses pick up on the scents and sounds that now surround him. He finds a seat on a lumpy much used sofa and is quickly joined by a young woman in her twenties. Quite a bit overweight, she is dressed in a corset that pushes her oversized breasts up and out forming an inviting display of cleavage.

             
“Good evening Sir. May I address you?” she politely asks.

             
“Yes, child you may address me. What is your name?”

             
“I am called Slave Cheyenne. How may I address you Sir?”

             
“You may call me Sir, Slave Cheyenne.”

             
“Yes Sir,” she replies with eyes lowered.

             
He places his hand on her head and says, “No need to pout my child. I will take good care of you this evening. Let us proceed over to the cross and I will bind you to it.”

             
“Yes Sir. What do you have in mind for me this evening Sir?”

             
“I was thinking of a stranglehold flogging to your lovely plump ass,” he replies.

             
“Yes Sir if that will please you. Shall there be a safe word Sir?”

             
“Of course my child. Your safe word is red. Can you remember that?”

             
“Yes Sir. I can remember to say red is your punishment of me it too much to bear.”

             
“Punishment? You misunderstand my child. My flogging of you is not a punishment; it is a gift to you for it is what you desire is it not?” he asks.

             
“Yes Sir but too much of a good thing can also be dangerous and hurtful at times.”

             
“Well said Slave Cheyenne. I will take you to inner sub space and you will enjoy the gift I will bestow upon you,” he says as he positions her onto and facing the St. Andrews cross and begins to bind her hands.

             
She watches as he secures each wrist and she begins to tremble. He does not bind her ankles and tells her, “I am leaving your legs free so you can jump and squirm as the flogger whips your bare ass. I like to see a slave jump when hit.”

             
“Bare ass? Oh Sir, I don’t know if I am ready for…”

             
She suddenly feels her skirt fall to the floor revealing her ass cheeks to the world to see for she is only wearing a thong that leaves nothing to the imagination.

             
“Oh God. I have never felt a flogger on my bare skin before Sir. I might have to use the safe word. I am very concerned that I might not be able to say the word when you strangle me.”

             
“Strangle you?” he asks.

             
“Yes Sir, you said that this would be a stranglehold flogging,” she replies.

             
He smirks. “Yes child. What I meant by that is that I will be flogging you to the rhythm of the classic song by Ted Nugent, “Stranglehold. I will not be strangling you.”

             
“Oh. I have never heard of this song. Are you sure they have it on the sound system Sir?”

             
“I have it on CD. I will be right back.”

             
The dominant brings the CD to the cross dressing bartender and asks if he can play it and the bartender agrees without hesitation.

             
As the dominant walks back to the cross and his newly acquired slave the music begins. The slave faces away from the room and cannot see what is about to happen. The dominant pulls out a leather flogger from his bag that appears to be well worn from hundreds of hours of use tanning the hides of many a submissive.

             
As the song reaches the part of the swoosh hi-hat sound, he steps behind his young and innocent victim and lets the flogger fly in time with each swoosh. She stands vey still at first but with each additional swat of the flogger her legs begin to move in an effort to get out of the way of the flogger which is a futile attempt.

             
“Oh my God. Please Sir. Please Sir,” she screams out over the music.

             
He walks up and asks in her ear, “Please what child? Please more.. please harder?”

             
“Yes Sir. More. Please.”

             
He reaches down between her legs and runs his fingers over her pussy now trenched in her flowing juices running down her stout thighs.

             
He retrieves another flogger from his black bag and uses both in time with the music giving the illusion of a wind mill turning in the wind faster and faster.

             
His timing is impeccable and he is right on tempo with the beat of the song. As he gets into the song more and more, he begins to turn and dance in place. A crowd begins to form as a simple flogging turns into a well-choreographed performance. The bartender turns on the light synchronization mixer and the colored lights in the main room react in unison with the movements of the man and his floggers as they turn a white pasty ass into a bright red masterpiece of art created by a true artist.

             
The young woman bound to the cross is so deep into sub space she has no idea what is happening to her. Her pain threshold is beyond her fear expectations and she surrenders to the desires of her Master.

             
The concert version of the song comes to an end after 23 minutes and thus so does the flogging of Slave Cheyenne. She is released and slowly stumbles to the browbeaten sofa where thirty minutes earlier she met the Dominant of her dreams.

             
As Cheyenne lies on the sofa she folds into the fetal position and begins to cry. A common after effect for most subs when coming out of scene. A few other submissive females come to her aid and comfort her as she comes down from her sub space high.

             
Meanwhile her Dom is being approached by another submissive who is interested in playing. He accepts her and again, another flogging session begins. This process continues into the wee hours of the morning. Submissive after submissive desires to play with the older, experienced Dominant. He works his magic over and over again until daybreak.

             
As the man in black backs up his bag and exists out the front door of Hellfire, he crosses the street and continues down Rockwell Ave. As he walks, he reaches into his pants pocket and retrieves a pair of sun glasses to shade his eyes from the early morning sun.

             
He walks briskly to the end of the block where he comes face to face with Saint John Birchman Catholic Church. He stops in his tracks and stares at the church. As he stands there he contemplates his life and the choices he has made wondering if he has taken the right path. Suddenly the church bells ring six times. It is 6:00 am and Sunday morning mass will begin in just an hour. He picks up his bag and unzips the side pocket. He retrieves a white piece of rectangular cloth covered plastic and after buttoning his collar he inserts the clerical collar into the openings that hold the white collar in place. He walks to the front door of the church and finds a young boy waiting for him.

             
“Good morning Father Tom,” the young boy says.

             
“Good morning my child. You are my altar boy for 7:00 services?”

             
“Yes father. I am Alex.”

             
As Father Tom and Alex enter the church to prepare for another Sunday full of services, Cheyenne exits Hellfire two blocks up the street and walks to the corner of Fullerton and Western to the 24-hour diner for coffee and some breakfast. Rubbing her sore ass as she walks, she smiles from the pain as she recalls the evenings’ events. She hopes she will see the mysterious Dom who took control of her soul again very soon.

             
             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

             
Ryan walks from the terminal at O’Hare to the short term parking garage elevators. A costly parking tab awaits him due to his indifference to parking in the remote long term lots. Ryan likes convenience and will take advantage of an upgrade every chance he gets.

             
He locates the car and pops the trunk to stow his bags. He sees his black play bag in the back of the trunk and a smile comes to his face. He pushes the bag deeper inside the trunk and then deposits his luggage toward the front of the trunk.

             
As he pulls up to a pay gate, he hands his parking stub to the attendant and waits for the total.

             
“You were parked for 3.5 days at $33.00 a day. That will be a $115.50. You might want to consider parking in the long term lot next time. Would save you about $80.00,” says the attendant.

             
“My company pays for it so I take advantage of it. It’s one of those little perks I still get,” says Ryan as he hands his company credit card to the attendant.

             
“Here is your receipt and your card. Have a nice day.”

             
Ryan jumps on the interstate and heads south for Homer Glen, IL which is about 35-minutes south of the airport. He can’t wait to see his little girl Eva. He bought her a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader doll even though Sam told him not to. Eva loves when her daddy comes home from a trip. It’s Saturday afternoon so Ryan is thinking they will probably go out for pizza.

             
(phone rings) He glances at the screen and sees that it is Sam.

             
“Hey Sam. I am about 30-minutes away.”

             
“Good. I am glad I caught you. You need to stop at the store to do the shopping. We are out of everything. I will email you the list.”

             
“Shopping? Sam I am really tired. After three days of meetings and traveling I am beat. Can’t you go do the shopping now while I am driving home?”

BOOK: Hellfire Part Two
7.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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