Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All characters and names are fictional and were made up. I do not make money from these stories. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.
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Miami, Florida
Heavy breathing was audible from the maroon colored carpet down below. A woman with dark hair had kneeled down, her palms pushing into the the floor quietly as she let out a soft moan. Her knees were down into the carpet as well, shoving her thick round buttocks into the air. Completely naked at this point with all her clothing long discarded from her body in exchange for what one may have called a piece of jewelry around her neck. Vida Guerra lifted her left arm, rummaging her fingers through her slick black hair as she began to lean up right as the black leather collar dug into her neck. Teeth barred, she gazed up at the face of a man standing naked. He held the chain connected back to her collar as this had been another day of them playing the game of master and servant together.
Miguel Martinez glared down at the ageless, legendary Cuban model, huffing and puffing in his breath. A few beads of sweat had accumulated from his slicked back black hair as he was gazing down at the result of an hour long fuck session with this valuable woman. Vida's makeup had been ruined earlier with smears of runny eyeliner and mascara, all mixed in with a fresh warm splatter of cum across her forehead and dripping down her face. She was wrecked but Miguel was aware if it weren't for the collar around her neck, she would've devoured him and fucked the man into complete exhaustion from her sheer lust alone. This was far from the first time Vida had entered his safehouse and had the collar locked around her neck. As the PM hours were fast hitting the clock now, he couldn't go another round without feeling the fatigue threaten his work day.
"You're such a nasty fucking whore..."
He let out a sigh after speaking and walked across the room holding her chain. All Vida did was taunt him with a sensual giggle. As he pulled the chain, she crawled along with it. Streams of cum dripping down her face as she positioned herself between his legs.
"Yeah and you love every last minute of it, don't you Master Miguel, hmmmm?"
It was apparent she was mocking him, but he didn't react. Vida had spent the past few months playing as Miguel's fuck toy in exchange for the benefits she received under police protection. Vida was found in the police raid of Carlos Diaz's room at the Fontainebleau hotel following the drug bust that left Ramón Diaz along with a few cops fatally shot. The police had confiscated drugs and weapons from the hotel, arresting her in the process. Taken into custody after the raid and search for Carlos, Vida offered to give vital information up in exchange for immunity. She didn't wait to crack in the interrogation room with the vice squad detectives. Miguel Martinez and Floyd Bates were the leading men, one of them whom took a liking to Vida the minute she said she could give away the entire Diaz brothers operation and vendettas.
For Vida, she had a score to settle with Steven. Her lust for revenge after humiliation was the main cause of why she decided to seek out Carlos and Ramón in the first place. After an interrogation with the vice cops, she informed them of Steven's problems with his cousin and outright told them if Carlos were to be found dead in the near future, only one man would truly be responsible. Her prediction had been proven true a month later and Miguel Martinez had to give her a phone call and offer her a new deal for witness immunity. Seeing Vida as a potential asset in their investigation, he didn't have to think twice with moving her into a safehouse. It was there they had been having their fun and games by collar and chain for the past week.
Now he was sitting down, watching her as those small hands moved to grip his cock and begin wanking it up and down. She licked her lips in a circular rotation, seemingly unbothered by the cum that was dripping from her face. Miguel enjoyed putting her in a collar and chain, as it was the only way to prevent her from taking control and dominating him. So far through the early afternoon, his cock had been lodged inside all three of her holes as well as having been between her great big tits. Vida had already made him cum twice but Miguel knew he couldn't go a third round with this woman or else he would be entirely spent by the time he entered the Vice headquarters building. Looking down at her, he snapped his fingers to grab her attention. Those big brown eyes gazed up at him.
"That's enough for now. I gotta get dressed and head out soon. I left the key to your collar on the bar, you can help yourself."
He got up from where he was seated in the big black leather chair of the living room. Vida was left there on her knees as Miguel let go of the chain. She finally wiped some of the cum dripping from her face using the palm of her left hand. As Miguel walked his nude slim body out of the living room, he called out to her in his loud booming voice in the distance.
"Don't forget about what we talked about this morning... I need you to do that for me, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember! Don't worry, leave that to me!"
She yelled back at him while getting up from the floor. The chain attached to her collar shook as the cold metal was pushed between her tits. When she had first arrived at the safehouse, Miguel wanted to have a conversation regarding Vice surveillance on Disco Fever and the news surrounding the grand re-opening of the Diaz family's crown jewel in business. He informed her that Steven had not been sighted at the club, but his older brother Tony had been in the news lately. This would be her first real job in the line of duty as a police informant. Miguel had given Vida specific instructions to enter Disco Fever and snoop around. The main subject of discussion for her would be the whereabouts for Steven Diaz. If he wasn't there she could easily gain intel on his brother that would be valuable for the vice detectives handling what had become a multi-month investigation and murder case crossing cities.
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The sun glared down causing a blinding reflection across the metal rail of the outside deck to Tony Diaz's yacht. He stood there next to Antonio whom he had called early in the afternoon to come have a small between father and son. Tony was not too happy to hear about his son not being at the club for opening hours, though he swore he had something of an emergency that required him to leave and get a new shirt. It was a simple mishap, as it could've been resolved by calling an assistant to the office and giving them a quick job to go on leave. When Antonio arrived on the yacht to speak with his father, he explained his newfound friendship with glamour model Demi Rose Mawby. Seemingly unimpressed, Tony stood clutching the metal rail with one hand as he gazed out at the ocean in front of him. He wore a simple white shirt and dark purple leisure shorts. His eyes were shielded by a pair of aviator sunglasses, smoking a cigar as he listened to his son ramble on.
"I let her do a photo shoot in the club yesterday. That's what got me into the whole mess in the first place."
Tony used his left hand to move the cigar out of his mouth momentarily to blow a bit of smoke. Antonio stood behind him, tucking his hands down into the pockets of his white pants. The low wind rustled across his pink shirt as he carried on speaking.
"Look dad, she's real famous online. She has millions of Instagram followers and on Twitter too. That's free publicity for the club. There'll be articles any day now about Demi Rose partying it up at our place."
Dipping the cigar at the edge of the rail to brush off some ashes, Tony turned around to face his son and gave him a puzzled look.
"Why are you so worried about the internet?"
As Antonio glanced back at his father, the old man took another puff on his cigar. He blew out more smoke and continued to speak.
"Twitter is not real life, son. I mean, come on... Do you really need me to tell you that?"
"But she-"
Tony cut his son off, raising his free hand as he talked over him.
"But but but, I don't wanna hear it! I don't go on Twitter. They probably call me Mr. J-Lo on there or something ridiculous like that. Do you see anyone calling me that in real life?"
He turned his back to the young man, still puffing on his cigar. All Antonio could do was sigh as he felt his father wasn't hearing any reason to his words whatsoever. As he began to walk off the deck, Tony called out to him.
"Just make sure you're clocking in at time! I don't wanna hear anymore stories about you being late when the club opens!"
Still smoking the cigar, Tony walked away from the railing and stepped his way back in the main cabin of his yacht. He shoved the cigar down into an ashtray nearby the bar and began to walk his way back to the master cabin where he previously slept. News had broke through Hollywood gossip magazines of hungry paparazzi capturing photos of Jennifer Lopez with a new man at her side. Tony was lucky Jennifer was still in town, knowing the busy work schedule she had with her family and a future project of a film lined up back in New York. She had parted the yacht early in the morning, but not without leaving him a cute note and text messages. She would be at the club tonight as Tony's date where he was certain a local Miami reporter would likely be in house to catch the two together and write headlines to celebrity gossip news.
Today was a busy day for the older man. Apart from the usual duties that would hit the clock later in the evening as the club opened it's doors, Tony had to handle other family matters. His nephew Jacob Diaz was requesting transfer from Miami University to crossover to Texas Tech. Since Steven was out of town and given his poor relationship with his son, Tony felt it was on him to be the uncle and look over his nephew. Jacob had approached him with paperwork faxed over, citing a coach who wanted him under transfer. Tony needed to sign some papers and make a few phone calls on behalf of Jacob's party. After his small bit of legal problems just months ago in Miami, it was a safe bet to get him out of town and to a new university. He had hopes of making it as a starter onto the team to at least build some stock going into the NFL draft. If that was what Jacob wanted in life, Tony felt the need to help him achieve such a dream.
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10 HOURS LATER
Cars pulled through the parking lot as the neon sign lit up from outside with the clock striking past 10 PM. The party was on inside the walls of Disco Fever. The bouncers outside the club were checking for I.D. and weapons outside before each and every club-goer could enter the front doors. A woman got out of the driver's side of her car, stepping her black high heels onto the pavement and reaching over into the seat. Thick muscular legs tucked into black leggings, revealed the enormous ass of Vida Guerra. She wore a leotard short above, straps over her shoulders and a diamond shape revealing her back from behind. Long hair pinned up in a ponytail dangling from above with every step she made. Her fingers slid across the flat screen of her smartphone as she quickly checked her text messages. Finished, she shoved the phone into her black purse with a gold Cuban chain link and then slammed the door shut to her black Dodge Charger.
Vida had arrived at just the right hour. Her heels stomped loudly across the black pavement outside the parking lot as she began to walk towards the short line of the club's entrance. It had been so long since she was last at Disco Fever, she expected to at least feel nervous about this potential reunion with Steven. As she sighed to herself and clutched her purse, Vida unzipped it and pulled out her old V.I.P. card to flash at the bouncers. The two men were tall wearing black pinstriped suits, as they had an intimidating aura to them. As she walked past, she flashed her I.D. card and the the V.I.P. one. Neither man said a word as one simply stood back and pointed to the entry as she was cleared to step right in the club. Reassembling her purse, she slid it up her right arm and walked in, greeted to the booming sound of music from within the dark neon lit club.
Her eyes gazed around, noticing the new interior designs of the club, though the aesthetic remained the same. People walked past Vida, no one recognizing her whatsoever. The bar had a few people sitting at the stools, taking drinks with a tuxedo wearing bartender. Her eyes glanced over to the staircase leading to the upper floor of the club where one could easily walk from one side of the building to the next. She knew where the V.I.P. door was, regardless if she would require a new up to date card for entry. While Vida walked her way around, a familiar song began to play. The voice of Laura Branigan sang along to an old eighties hit that she knew all too well by the name of Self Control. Her heels clicked and clacked as she shuffled among people, walking past the bar and listening to the words of the song's chorus.
"I, I live among the creatures of the night...
I haven't got the will to try and fight.
