Mister Distraction (Distraction #2) (4 page)

“Good girl, Bettina.” I kissed her forehead, because that was all the affection I had for this girl. She looked up at me, and I saw hearts in
her eyes that made me nauseous. I put her arms close to her sides and wrapped her in two large belts that were already attached to the bed. One belt I placed under her large breasts and the other across her lower stomach. I attached each foot to the corners of the bed with enough slack that I could move her knees up. I began playing with the chain hanging between her breasts. She loved the rough play, craving it. I studied her, skeptically. She was still acting like a horny cat in heat. I could smell her musky come and she was still dying for more. I grabbed the black flogger, running my fingers over the multiple tiny leather straps that dangled from the handle and closed the drawer of my bedside table. I began to paint my canvas, because being an artist was also my favorite hobby. It made me very happy, as happy as an asshole with a handful of tiny whips could be. I could tell she was struggling to hold on, trying not to climax and it made me chuckle. Her legs were completely frozen, even though I left wiggle room. I knew the dildo still strapped inside her was probably the cause. She watched me chuckle, and that’s when I heard her scream out as her hips moved up in reaction to her orgasm.

“That’s three,” I said and raised my eyebrow. “Are we going for four?” She shot me a challenging look, so I took that as a yes. I undid the belt holding the toy inside of her and removed it from between her legs. I took the nipple clamps off one by one, making sure to bathe them with my mouth right away. I heard her moaning. “Bettina, did you take something before I got home?” She started mumbling. The girl was horny, and I had a feeling she could have ten more orgasms. That was not normal. As hard as she was climaxing, after little effort, four was not normal either.

“I can’t hear you, Bettina. Did you take ecstasy before I came home?” I watched her eyes flutter and knew the answer was yes. I began moving the dildo in and out with forceful thrusts, twisting and shoving it into her pussy. I knew she really wanted me deep inside her, but this was about my control and as much as my cock wanted to be buried inside her, I was ultimately the one making the decisions. I lowered my face and ran my tongue over the tip of her clit, and then took the whole nub into my mouth and sucked while I worked the dildo in and out aggressively. She screamed again and I pulled back to watch her head
thrashing on the pillow. I didn’t ease up on the large toy until her body stopped quivering.

Bettina’s body was nestled in soaked sheets filled with sweat and come. She was completely passed out. “That was four,” I said as I undid the rest of the belts and shoved them under the bed. I threw a blanket on her, undid the panties from her mouth, and left the room.

Chapter Two

I strolled down the quiet hall to my safe haven. I opened the door to my bedroom where my colossal size bed greeted me; it was large and completely dominated the entire room. The blue and green checked quilt, that my grandmother made me, lay on top, a little piece of home. The oak dresser took up the wall to my right, with my bathroom and closet to my left. Nothing hung on the walls, no memories worth decorating it with. At the foot of the bed, Bo’s gigantic bed lay; I ran my fingers over his short fur as he curled up and sighed. I closed the door and locked it. Then I crawled under my soft dark cotton sheets and fell asleep. I woke up on my own. Sleeping was not something I enjoyed like most people. It was not the sleeping part I didn’t enjoy; it was mainly the waking up part. It felt like I ripped a Band-Aid off every frickin’ time I got out of bed. I had no idea what that meant; it was the only way I could explain it. I dragged my feet into the kitchen. It was 8:30 at night and I was getting ready to go out. I ate some leftover spaghetti my sister gave me at work on Friday. I took my time before heading in to wake up Bettina. I started the shower and walked over to the bed.

“Get up, Bettina; get in the shower.” She tossed and turned as I walked over to the bed and lifted her up. “Get the fuck up. We are leaving in twenty minutes. I will take you like this if I have to.” She batted her eyes awake and shuffled slowly to the shower. Her movements were stiff. I patted myself on the back; Bettina was never one to limp. She always hid the pain. I laughed wickedly as I saw her take two small
steps and take a deep breath in. I left and took Bo out for a walk while she got ready. I came back exactly twenty minutes later.

I peeked into the bathroom as she was blowing her hair dry. She turned her attention to me and snarled. It made my hand twitch and I had to fight my instinct to throw her over my knee for the defiant sound.

“Bettina, you told me no more drugs. I will
not
tolerate you using. This is my last warning.” She glared at me and moved her lips to say something, but bit her tongue instead. I disappeared into the closet, grabbed a skimpy green dress, and returned to her side.

“Get dressed; let’s go.” Bettina knew her role in this arrangement. I could find another Bettina in a heartbeat, but she could never replace me. She stood in front of me stark naked and gently took the dress from my hands. She wiggled into it, knowing better than to put on a bra and panties. My dominance over her and the shit I made her do turned her on. The flush of her face told me so. In the beginning, she would challenge me, but before we made it out the door, her panties would be ripped into shreds of lace. She had to make herself available to me always, when I went to Strikers, the Gentlemen’s Club, and panties weren’t an option. I didn’t take Bettina anywhere else; she was my ‘live in’ and ‘arm candy’; I could give a shit what she wore when I wasn’t around. She curled her hair and applied her make-up. I changed into black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, while she went into the kitchen to get some food. When I came out, we left. I escorted her to my Jeep, which she hated but I loved, so she never said anything. My red Jeep was lifted for off-road use, the tires reached the top of her hip and the lower half was always covered in mud.
What can I say, I like it dirty
. I watched her as we left together. She normally strolled over to her sleek black BMW thinking she could convince me to take it instead, but today she didn’t even try. She cringed when I opened the door and dried pieces of dirt flaked off, landing on her tight lime green dress. I grinned as I got a glimpse of the halo part of her areola through the thin material of her dress.

We arrived at Strikers, the Gentlemen’s Club, later than normal. I loved everything about the club. I had been a frequent visitor since I
was nineteen. It smelled of leather and sex and sometimes, when my nose was buried into a glass of aged whiskey, I smelled a piece of oaky-wood heaven. The theme of Strikers, the sex club, was clothes optional,
gotta love that
. This was my favorite place. I controlled my destiny in the club. Sex was a pastime for me; some people played X-box or Word with Friends. I liked to tie women down. Bondage was my game of choice. I directed Bettina toward the bar, my hand firmly pressed against her butt. The circular bar was toward the front while bondage rooms were on both sides of the large space. The left side bondage rooms mirrored the right. There were also closed rooms for people who wanted more private playtime. Those were hidden off to the side toward the back of the bar and required permission to use. The entire place was clean. Brad, the owner of the club, was very particular about cleanliness. Most all the room held a version of a table and straps; some had hooks in the ceiling and in the walls. The only variations were the toys that hung on the walls, giving each room a different theme. Where some rooms would have whips, crops and floggers, the other room would have chains, paddles and slappers.

“Sit.” She sat on the barstool and I stood next to her. “OK, for your punishment,” her eyes widened and I let my victory smile slip across my face, “you pick a lucky lady and I am going to have sex with her, and you’re going to watch.” Her eyes grew evil. She had shared me in the past, but never like this. “Do you want to know what your punishment is?” She looked at me, and I could see the battle going on inside her head. Her mouth fell open, but she knew better than to piss me off more.

“The one that you pick, if I approve, will orgasm four times and you will watch, but not join in. I think you have had enough orgasms for today.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I think I heard a huff. I gave her my impassive stare letting her know I made the rules and she followed them, because like always, I held all the power. She held none. Alex came up behind me and took a seat.

“Have a drink with me.” He was my best friend lately, and he accepted me for who I was. Bettina hated him. She’d flirted with him a few times, but Alex always called her out on it. Right now, he didn’t even acknowledge her presence even though she was my direct focus.

I sat down next to him, but looked at Bettina. “Well? Barbie, you’re wasting precious time.” She narrowed her eyes before she turned and marched off. I ordered a shot of whiskey enjoying the feel of the smooth burn slide down my throat as I drank it. Then I quickly ordered two more not stopping, until I could feel the liquor warm my blood. It added to the dark mood I was in.

“She’s in trouble again?” Alex asked as he tossed back the rest of his whiskey. I nodded, not really wanting to talk about the details. “Sometimes you gotta wonder,” he began, and I eyed him sharply, warning him to tread carefully, “you gotta wonder if the juice is worth the squeeze.” He signaled the bartender for another drink, and I laughed under my breath at his comment. We talked mostly about Alex’s job. He was a judge and sometimes he shared great stories, not to mention, the man was funny. I watched a curvy lady approach us at the bar. She had confidence, and I loved that. She wore a red see-through blouse with a lacy bra underneath, but what was the most breathtaking was her very curvy ass. The black mini skirt she wore displayed it perfectly, hugging every inch of her thick round booty.

Alex looked up at her. “Hey, was your dad a meat burglar?” The woman glanced at him with a confused look on her face, but she didn’t respond. Alex continued with his pick-up line, “The reason I ask is someone slammed two big delicious hams on your ass.” I started laughing so hard I almost fell off my barstool. The girl just rolled her eyes and walked off. Alex shrugged his shoulders. We continued talking after that, but no one interrupted us again. Alex left, and Brad walked up and took a seat next to me.

Brad, the owner, was my boss for many years, but mainly he was like an older brother. He let me keep the membership to the club even though I didn’t pay anything for it. I knew the price was a couple thousand a month and that was definitely not in my budget. He kept the place clean, and all the bondage equipment and tables were new. There were plenty of workers, so there was never a problem getting a drink or breaking up a fight. Brad was a good businessman and friend. He was also Bettina’s brother, and they looked alike, but were complete opposites. Since I quit, a few years ago, Brad made it a point to have
a drink with me at least once a week. He ordered two small glasses of Glen Livet—a 15-year-old whiskey and one of my favorites. He handed me a glass.

“So how is she?” I hated when he asked me that. I wanted him to take responsibility for her and talk to her to find out on his own, but I answered anyways. “She was on something when I got home from work today. I am not sure if it was coke or ecstasy. She never told me what it was, but I told her I won’t put up with it.” I watched his face grow worried as I finished, “She needs help, and I am not up for convincing her.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said as we both caught Bettina in our line of sight. He disappeared, and I left the bar to walk around.

Bettina wandered over to me with a very sexy looking redhead, the same height and shape as Bettina. I tossed my drink back, feeling the liquor all the way to my fingertips. They stood quietly as I leaned against the wall of a playroom watching all the activity. I felt charged in this place. I always have. I was a bouncer for about five years and missed it. It’s been three years since I got to escort someone out or discipline a lady for misbehaving, moments that were the highlights of my week.