Night falls over the City of Cap-Haitien, in the Nord-Department of the Republic of Haiti. Two hundred thousand souls call this place home. At this hour, folks are walking the streets or driving, all on their way home. The rough roads don't stop these hard-working Haitian men and Haitian women, or their hardy vehicles. From the Tap-Tap buses operated by Le Transport En Commun to taxis and private vehicles, all navigate the rough roads that haven't been fixed in decades. Haiti has a rugged charm, and nowhere is that more evident than in the City of Cap-Haitien.
Jean-Pierre Marcelin walks the streets, always looking over his shoulder. The big and tall, dark-skinned man looks nervous as he navigates the nighttime streets of Cap-Haitien. Is he up to no good? Is there someone after him? Jean-Pierre heads to Rue Dix, towards the hill where College Notre Dame Du Perpetuel Secours sits proudly. Veering past the school, he enters a side street. A blue and white house with a dark gray roof is right around the corner. Jean-Pierre stops for a moment, and inspects his wallet. Tonight's excursion is going to cost him a pretty little penny, but that's the least of his worries.
Knocking on the door, Jean-Pierre once more looks over his shoulder. The door opens, and a sexy, husky voice welcomes him inside. The house's interior is well-lit, and also well-decorated. Jean-Pierre is led by an attendant who takes him into a vast room. It is a rather opulent boudoir. The attendant departs after instructing Jean-Pierre to take his clothes off. Jean-Pierre does as he is told. He's used to taking orders. As a Zenglendo, taking orders and carrying them out is how he earns his coin. After a few moments, a beautiful black woman steps into the boudoir.
"Mete ou aje nou, get on your knees," said Madame Eloise, and Jean-Pierre Marcelin did as he was told. The big and tall, dark-skinned Haitian man felt awkward as hell as he got on his knees. He was stark naked. Madame Eloise stood there, hands on her hips. The curvy, brown-skinned and dark-haired Haitian woman, a newcomer to the City of Cap-Haitien by way of Jacmel, smiled at her new supplicant. This one was going to be fun to train. Haitian Femdom is most definitely a thing and at last, men on the Island of Haiti are starting to explore it. It is a wonder to behold.
"Map tan lod ou, I await your orders," Jean-Pierre Marcelin said. Madame Eloise nodded and turned around. She headed to a nearby wooden table, where her tools awaited. Selecting a leathery, three-foot-long cord made out of cowhide, she held it up. Jean-Pierre swallowed hard as he saw what Madame Eloise had just selected. This was a tool he remembered from a very long time ago, when he'd been enrolled in Catholic School. Yeah, long before Jean-Pierre became a bandit, one of the legendary Zenglendo or roughneck, he was accustomed to corporal punishment.
"Yon bel rigwaz, mwen pral bat ou avek li, a nice whip, I am going to beat you with it," Madame Eloise said confidently. Jean-Pierre swallowed hard but otherwise remained silent. The burly Haitian man felt conflicting emotions as he knelt before the demure, sultry Haitian dominatrix. Even in a poor country, men and women must have their pleasures. Madame Eloise is a professional dominatrix and she comes highly recommended in the ever expanding world of Haitian BDSM afficionados. Nothing new under the sun, folks.
