Animal Instincts

I lead a double life. Most of the time, I'm a middle aged corporate worker with a crappy marriage and a heavy coffee addiction. I have trouble staying awake through the day and trouble sleeping through the night.

But that's just most of the time. On the fifth of every month, I go to a strip club called the "Maison de Sade." But it's not just any strip club. No, on the fifth, the proprietor of the establishment clears all the tables from the floor and opens it up exclusively to masochists and sadists.

It's March fifth. I don my form fitting, spiked leather clothes, (minus horned helmet) grab my rucksack and head out.

A large man wearing nothing but a mask and a tight leather g-string stands just inside the club. He growls and steps between me and the festivities already taking place. Taking the cue, I remove my helmet from my rucksack and put it on.

It's an instant transformation. I have become "The Bull." The long horns, red lenses and spiked maw transform me from corporate tool into the masochistic sadist I truly am. I pull my gloves on and repeatedly clench my fist. Each glove has a set of five spikes that run along the knuckles. These are my main weapons. They will subdue an unwilling victim.

In addition to my gloves, I carry a whip and a length of chain. When I finally subdue my victim, these will make sure they stay that way.

I look back up at the big man and snarl. I no longer find him intimidating. Now he's just a slave forced to guard the door. He bows his head and steps aside, fearful of who I've become. I prowl in, a growl emanating from my throat.

The Maison is packed, and all around me subs scream and dommes howl. There is the occasional crack of a whip or the click of handcuffs, but mostly it's just screaming, grunting and howling. I become a black predator, strolling between cages, rapes and fights. Subs shy away from me and dommes step in front of their victims, protecting their possessions.

But I'm not after small, weaking game. No. I'm after the bitch who subdued me last time. I'd never forget her--a tall, yellow plume sprung from her hateful mask. She wore purple hip-boots, buckled from heel to knee. I continue my search, and consider attempting to take a sizable harem from another animal, but remind myself I'm after bigger game.

There she is, in the corner where she'd claimed me. The bitch had some sap licking her boots. I would make her regret what she did to me. With a carnal howl, I charge across the room, stepping on and over a half-dozen floorbound denizens.

I raise my fist. She turns around and attempts to avoid my fury. But it's too late. My spiked fist slams into her forearm and, to my satisfaction, draws blood.

The bitch hisses at me, and takes a step back. I draw my whip and swung it at her. It hits her in the side, but she wears a hard-leather corset, and the blow does nothing more than piss her off.

She has recovered from the surprise of my first attack, and is now in full battle mode. In one hand she carries a thick riding crop, and, in the other, a leg bar.

We circle each other, growling and snorting. Her bare breasts bounce and she walks, and I think of turning her into a sub, taking her to one of the poles, tying her to it, and masturbating all over those beautiful tits. That is the goal.

She charges, her riding crop swinging low to take me in the leg. I knock it away with my whip and bring my free fist into her stomach.

It knocks her down, and just as I am about to take advantage of her position, one of her damned boots knocks my legs from under me. We both quickly raise to four limbs, our weapons knocked away and discarded. It is a fight of fists, feet and teeth now.

I launch myself at her like an animal, my horned helmet threatening to rend her a new hole. She dodges to the side, but it's not enough. My shoulder strikes her neck, and she goes down breathless and gagging from the force of the blow.

I'm suddenly on top of her, my hard cock pressing into her near-nonexistent latex panties. She brings a fist to the side of my head, and I roll away. In turn, she rolls on top of me, and grabs my wrists, pinning them to the floor. I try to kick, but her full weight is on my thighs. I can't shake her off. She leans down and licks my mask, an insulting sign of dominance. I struggle, with not much hope. Then she makes a mistake.

She attempts to bring my hands above my head, but is forced to lean slightly upward to do so. I bring my knee into her warm sex. She howls and grabs herself, falling on top of me. I punch her hateful mask and spring away, grabbing my chain. As she's beginning to recover, I slam my boot into her stomach. The bitch falls back down. I snarl and quickly loop my chain into a knot around her wrists.

I pick up her handcuffs, riding crop and my own whip and begin dragging her around the club, showing off my prize. Subs stare in awe, and dommes give me a brief nod of recognition.

The damned sub she had cornered earlier drops to his hands and knees in front of me in a bow of submission. I reward him by slamming her riding crop across the back of his head.

"Weakling," I mutter in a whispered growl. The bitch has begun to struggle again. But we are there. I drag her none-too-gently up on stage and handcuff her to a pole before removing the chain and tying it tightly around the bottom of her boots. Then, slowly, I begin to unbuckle the boots. She howls in protest, moaning out to anyone who would help. But I have shown my prowess. No one approaches. Many stare, and a few begin to masturbate as I show her the ultimate in dominance.

I fling her boots to the stage floor and tear off her corset, using the spikes on my gloves to simply rip through the ties. She howls louder and I feel myself becoming hard. I smile a demon's smile and then, tauntingly remove her panties.

Now all she wears is her mask, but it will remain. Anonymity is one of the few rules here at the Maison de Sade.

I run my gloved hands all over her body, and finally move down. I begin to slowly lick my way up her legs, grinning at her moans of mixed pleasure and disgrace. She whines and I stand up, whispering one word: "squeal." She clamps her mouth shut and I laugh, bringing my whip across her back. She howls, obviously not used to being on the business end of a whip. I just grin and walk behind the pole, dropping my black trousers. My cock is hard as a rock, and I slowly slip it into her moist, warm pussy. It's delicious. She moans and turns her head to look at me, but I thrust up as hard as possible, causing her to scream.

I thrust repeatedly until I am almost to the point of orgasm. I pull out, walk around in front of her and kick her feet out from under her. She slides to the waxed floor, staring up at me. I place my hand on my cock and finish what I started, blowing my load all over her face and breasts. She hisses at me, finally gaining some dignity, but that is quickly solved with a riding crop across her thigh. I stand aside, face those watching and hold my hand out like a magician at his finale. They howl and hiss and cheer me on as I remove her from her pole, force her to her knees and fuck her doggy style like any self-respecting animal.