A Visit to Scot's Club

Walking into the club she took note of the few other patrons that seemed to be scattered in the main salon on this early Friday evening. The dance poles were empty for now. But there was one couple that seemed oblivious to their surroundings. The man standing over the woman as she lay face down across one of the chairs that were reserved for the dominants that frequented Scot's. The man barely glanced her way as she moved across the club. She could hear the woman's low moans, her hips rolling in need as she passed, carefully giving them space. She had been to the club before. and now she was back, curiosity and prurient interest drawing her, even though Scot's was an old fashioned misogyny club that catered to men with no apologies. There was no telling what the man had planned for the woman, but here in the club it would be just another Friday, no matter the severity or intensity of the encounter. The women that entered here were treated as simple accessories, and that was if they were lucky.

Often there was no mercy for those women that were foolish enough to stumble through the entrance, unprepared or alone. With a mental cross of her fingers, she hoped she was prepared. Because as bad as it was, she had to admit, this was one of the things she most liked about the club, no accountability. She could indulge in her masochistic twists and kinks, without guilt or the need to cater to any preconceived notion of how she should fight and spurn the sadistic and misogynistic men that frequented and often gathered here, looking for fresh new conquests. If she chose to be laid out on the menu, then that was on her, and all the better for a night of adventure and, in some truly twisted way, therapy. It was what kept her sane.

Her ears picked up a change in the woman's low keening wails and her broken pleas for some respite. Narrowing her eyes she only smiled tightly, damn these women needed to learn safe words and how to use them. Or understand what sort of club Scott's was and simply be aware of the consequences. But none of her business for now. Quickly scanning profiles posted on the wall, she saw the man and woman were more than just a casual couple, but partnered as well. So perhaps the woman was like her and needed this in some way.

Sighing wearily, as it was getting late, she headed for the opposite side of the room, making her way through another arched door and across the thick plush carpet, easily finding a floor cushion and settling in, making herself displayed and available. Her gaze went back to the woman as her bottom bounced and rolled with each strike of the man's flogger. She was going to wear those stripes for a while, but the man seemed eager to paint a complicated lattice work of welts across her heaving flanks. The woman was sobbing in gratitude now, her body contorted in orgasmic release as the whip found its mark at the precise moment of her greatest need. Unable to look away, she continued to watch from across the room as the woman was crumpled and sobbing, the relief, pleasure and joy, all wrapped up in her degradation and submission. It poured off her in waves. So powerful were her clearly seen and telegraphed emotions, like some sort of separate entity let loose in the very air around the couple.

The man's flogger was still, the leather resting against the woman's naked and exposed body, his hand with the strong male fingers trailing lightly over the red swollen welts that painted the woman's still heaving bottom. His light touch, a caress the woman seemed to welcome as she continued to moan and then curl toward the man, clearly needing more of his wickedness, craving his touch. She watched the couple feeling envious, her own sex needy and desperate for just such a man, still she shivered in sympathy as the man continued to trace the woman's welts. She had vivid memories of her own of how painful the aftermath can be.....pausing for a moment as another sympathetic shudder rippled down her spine, perhaps not tonight.

Straightening, from her position on the display cushion, she turned on legs that were not quite steady and headed for the door and escape, at least for now. Even as her wicked needy cunt drooled and clenched, demanding some sort of ease, she knew, it was a given, she would be back.

elainejulia