Sweet Pain (The Club)

by Rebel Adams

  * * *

  Paddles. Like oars? This guy was batshit.

  But. He had just gotten me to come by pulling on my nipples with his magical clip things, and it was one of the best ones I’d had in a long time. Hell of a lot better than Darnell.

  I was up for it. There was something…different about this. Darnell and I didn’t make love. We barely fucked. It was a race to the finish to cover some basic sex. This wasn’t that at all.

  The sweats had calmed down. In fact, my whole body had calmed after that massive orgasm—naked, in front of an audience—had racked me from head to toe. And the rush from coming and being watched had put off the dope sickness.

  It was a shit ton better of a rush too.

  Abernathy took my wrist and led me over to a padded blockade horse. It was wider and sturdier, but it was totally a blockade horse.

  “Come, darling, let’s see how you do with this. Feet in the stirrups.” He pointed to them, both on the same side. That was confusing, but I was still riding the high. Slipping my feet in, I had to lean forward to keep my balance. But that’s what Gentleman Jim wanted, and he pulled me forward so that I leaned over, folding in half—but not uncomfortably.

  His big, soft hands wrapped around my wrist and I was caught in a wrist shackle.

  What the actual fuck? I panicked. I wasn’t about that. I had been arrested and left in cuffs before. I wasn’t—

  The yank of the chain still clamped to my nipples sent a weird, focusing feeling through me, and I lifted my head to look at him.

  He had a kind, light smile on his face. “No panicking, darling. You’re doing so well. If you want out, use your safeword. What color?”

  “Yellow.” Which was better than a minute ago where it was lights and sirens red.

  “Do you need a moment?”

  Did I? This guy wasn’t going to hurt me. I’d been in way more compromising positions trying to score. This was…not bad. I shook my head. “No. Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  I almost felt like I should be screaming at him to stop calling me ‘girl’ and calling me good, but when he said it, he was sincere. He liked that I listened.

  The other shackle closed over my wrist, and I forced myself to calm down. Whatever the hell this place was, whatever the hell was going on, there was an amazing sense of trust and honesty in the room, and just for once in my life, I wanted to trust.

  Abernathy ran his hand over my ass, startling me. He didn’t realize I’d jump because he immediately asked, “Color?”

  “Green. Sir.” It wasn’t really my thing to call anyone by a title like that, but I was beginning not to mind with him.

  Or, apparently, a room full of kinky fuckers staring at my ass in the air. Probably getting and full of pussy too.

  “All right, darling. Relax.”

  My brain didn’t like the tone of his voice, but before I could say a thing, the crack of his hand on my ass slammed into my brain, and I yelped.

  He’d spanked me!

  Before I could even process this properly, his hand came down just as hard on my other butt cheek with that same crack.

  Holy shit. What the fuck was this?

  His hand hit the first side again, and quickly the other in case it was feeling left out or something.

  The weirdest thing was—I didn’t hate it. The sting hummed through my ass and created a pleasant buzz.

  “Hold!”

  “Red!”

  Two different voices said the different words at the same time. The room came crashing to a halt, and everything froze. My ass, however, wanted more. Wtf?

  I lifted my head to find out why things had stopped and saw a woman rise from a chair in the back. She was magnificent. I wanted to be her when I grew up. You could tell no one fucked with her.

  “Master Lidell, your submissive isn’t calling her safeword.” She wasn’t pleased and hadn’t heard him.

  “Yes, Mistress. I called it myself.”

  She took herself down a notch and sat back just a touch. “Unfasten her. Tend to her. Then meet me in my office in half an hour.”

  He nodded. “Of course, Mistress.”

  It blew my mind how formally these people talked. Like they’d never gotten off a page of Wuthering Heights or something.

  “Master Abernathy.”

  Why was the queen bitch calling out my guy?

  He turned to her and nodded. “Your little sub there lacks discipline, but I would suggest you take it up a notch tonight. Use a studded flogger.”

  A what?

  “An excellent suggestion.”

  Oh shit, and he was listening to her. What the hell?

  She sat all the way back and the motion in the room started up again.

  Abernathy squatted down to my eye level. “Do you like pain?”

  “The fuck kind of question is that?”

  “We deal in taboos here, Gianna. We love them. We live them. You’re showing Mistress Tally and me that you like pain. Hence her suggestion of the studded flogger.”

  “Why would I ever like pain?” This dude was batshit.

  “Each of those hits didn’t bother you. They startled you. You came when I pulled on your nipples with the gator clips. Would you like to try? Your safeword is always your option to stop me.”

  “I’m shackled to a bench, naked. I guess I’m up for anything.”

  He gave me a smirk—and it was a sexy, dark, dirty one. I felt my body react to it in ways he probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been buck naked, ass up. “I will give a few warm-up strikes with the paddle, but we aren’t going to stay there long.”

  “Fine, whatever.”

  I didn’t really feel those words. I was nervous, and I really, really wanted to score right then. I needed a hit. And not on my ass.

  But that was what I got. The paddle was kind of like an oar: broad and flat, made of wood. It took care of both sides at the same time, and my butt sang from the sting of it. Shit, did it sting. The next hit was just as hard and fast, and the sting zapped into my brain. Another whack, and this time the sting teamed up with the sting from the last one. It was double sting-y.

  Abernathy gave my ass three more whacks and then stopped. I was kind of head-tripping—I didn’t hate what had just happened. He made everything more intense when a second later he moved his cool hand over the inferno that was my butt.

  The shiver actually shook my whole body. I had no idea until that point that just touching someone’s ass could make them incredibly horny. And I was suddenly like a bitch in heat. The man was next to me, whispering, “You’re doing amazing, darling. Your ass looks so good after that.”

  Ass man, my brain tossed out. I was losing track of time and places now. It was a nice haze, a fog kind of like being high, but without the needles.

  “I’m going to flog you now.” The voice passed through my head like weird old stereo effects, and he trailed that cool hand over my butt again. “What color?”

  “Green.” Or that was what I tried to say. I guessed he got it by that sexy little chuckle.

  It seemed like it was only half a second later that something soft and material-like slashed across my butt. The material was soft, but the movement wasn’t. He slapped that thing across me, and I yelped. It hit again, and I yelped again. The hell was this thing?

  But I never thought about asking him to stop. Something somewhere inside told me not to say anything. My ass was going to be raw and sore tomorrow, but there was some kind of mind fuck going on here.

  I’m enjoying this.

  The sting of the thick, heavy material felt good. The pain from the hits had my ass humming again, and I liked it. My whole fucking body liked it. My legs were wet…I was wet from being hit.

  This was better than any drug hit I’d even taken. Adrenaline was screaming through me, and then the last thing I thought I’d ever say spilled out of my mouth.

  “Harder, please! Sir!”

  There was a long pause after the last hit, and I t
hought I had fucked up. I hadn’t. A second more and he was back—this time the softish material had sharp studs in it. I could swear I was crying, but it was doing such amazing shit to my head.

  The hit came from a new direction, and one of the studs was a damn bullet and shot straight to my clit.

  I came in the loudest, longest, biggest orgasm I’d ever had. And just before I passed out, I had just one thought.

  How the fuck did he know I liked pain?

  Chapter 4

  The poor thing passed out. Right there in the middle of what was probably the best orgasm she’d ever had.

  Tally clapped me on the back a moment later. “She liked that. Hell, I liked that.”

  “Responsive little thing.” I draped the blanket over her and unfastened her wrists. She didn’t weigh much, probably because she usually spent it all on drugs. “I have to take care of her if you don’t mind.”

  Tally pulled the blanket tight around Gianna as I cradled her in my arms. “You have a trainee there, Abernathy. Not many untrained get close to where you got her tonight.”

  Nodding, I headed for the door. “How many tonight?”

  “Just her, Nate. Just her. Everyone else called.”

  I had to stop. Tossing a glance at her, I raised an eyebrow. “Not one?”

  “Not one. You got super intense with her, and I think you intimidated them.” Tally pointed to the door behind me. “Go on. Go. She needs care and rest.”

  Light as a feather, she was easy to carry back to the room. Once I had her on the bed, I changed into my usual bedwear: pants and nothing else. I loved the feel of silk on my dick, and after Gianna’s rare performance, I needed some soothing. I would have to take care of business later, but right at the moment, I needed to get my little painrider cleaned and into bed.

  A quick sponge bath with warmed Wet Wipes got her body to stop shaking. A cool washcloth for her face performed miracles for her hot cheeks.

  Removing the nipple clamps, I could see she was chafed and bleeding. Cleaning carefully, I massaged in an ointment I had created. Arnica, a touch of cocoa butter, and some bacitracin. When I carefully rolled her over, I decided that as intense as we had been, she didn’t need more than arnica on her rosy ass. With a gentle hand, I applied the cream, making sure she was well coated. The pajama shirt I had pulled out for her earlier was waiting for me, and I slipped it over her head, covering her to her knees.

  I hadn’t thought about her passing out. My own sexual appetite hadn’t been satisfied, and I had planned to have a little dalliance with Gianna. No such luck. She was out cold. Moving the sheets back on the other side of the bed, I maneuvered the feather-light woman under them, tucked her in, and climbed under the comforter, but not the sheets.

  It was strange circumstances that had brought the two of us together. There was so much to her that she tucked away from the world, and I couldn’t help but think how much she was hiding. It was hard to be someone who loved sex the way I did in this society, with their thrown back ideals and bullshit rules. But to be someone who not only loved sex but loved pain in a world where people are taught that liking pain was wrong could not be easy. Maybe that was why she pursued the drugs.

  She had shut out the world; that was for sure. Most people who worked street corners never believed they could be worthy of love and tenderness.

  I laughed a little. Maybe not quite tenderness with this one. Maybe someone who didn’t look at them cross-eyed for their proclivities.

  In the half light of the room, I leaned up on my elbow and stared at her. She was still in the passed out-unconscious part of this, and it would probably take another few hours before it turned to real sleep.

  I smiled. Best orgasm of her life.

  * * *

  I woke up in a panic, my body screamed at me all over. There was pain in my stomach, and I knew it’d been too long. The dope sick was taking over, but where the hell was I? Looking beside me, I saw Abernathy barechested with the sheet down around his waist. He breathed deeply as he slept. Money. He owed me money and a lot of it. I could get to Carl and get what I needed.

  My skin crawled. I needed relief. A man like this had a razor. He had to. His face was clean-shaven, and he took care of himself. Not like the johns I was used to. This guy had clean fingernails. It would be okay. Making my way to the shower, I turned it on as hot as it would go. I needed to burn my skin to get the crawling to stop. Once I’d soaked myself and turned in circles under the scalding water, I looked for the razor. There wasn’t one in the shower. I saw a small gray bag peeking out that looked like his. I dripped across the bathroom as I made my way to it, skin burning from the hot water. The pain was not enough to combat the screaming in my head for the drugs.

  It was right on top with some fancy looking aftershave: a straight razor. I moved back under the water and sank to the floor of the shower. Running the sharp edge along my thigh, I had to be careful not to go too deep. The crimson mixed with the water and ran down toward the drain. The pain gave me a little reprieve from the sickness that twisted my stomach and the thousands of invisible ants crawling on my skin.

  Leaning my head back against the wall, I cut another small line beneath the longer one. It gave me the same relief, and I closed my eyes. The shower curtain flew back, and I stared up at Abernathy standing over me.

  “Get the fuck out of here! What are you doing?” I screamed at him. He was interrupting my ‘me time’ and I hated anyone who did that.

  “What the fuck are you doing with my razor?” His words were deadly even. He bent down and took the razor from me, looking at it with disgust and dropping it in the sink. I suddenly felt even more exposed than I’d been the night before. He could truly see every bruise on my body, every inch of me. The blood that poured from my leg where I had tried to relieve the pain from the dope sick. I was ashamed, but the sickness also made me angry that he was looking at me at all.

  Nuh-uh. It wasn’t going down like this. I snapped back to myself.

  “Nope, get the hell out of there.” He held the curtain open, every bruise on my body now showing through in the harsh light of the bathroom. This was a new level of humiliation, and I didn’t like it at all.

  I had to get the hell out of the club and back to where I could get my fix.

  The momentary relief from the blade was gone. This man was the only thing in my way of getting rid of the dope sickness. Pushing myself up out of the shower, I made my way past him. I didn’t see my clothes or the clothes he’d given me. I grabbed the pajama shirt off the floor and pulled it over my wet body.

  I cocked a hip. “I need you to pay me now.”

  “I’m not giving you money. You’re clearly not in the right headspace to have it.”

  The frustration made me scream, and he advanced toward me. Throwing my hands up over my face, I backed away.

  “Just give me my fucking money, dude!”

  “Gia, you need to calm down. I need you to come over here and sit down.”

  I ignored his directive and went out the door a little disoriented. Barely remembering how to get out of the building, I walked down the hall. It seemed too quiet during the day.

  Still wet from the shower, water ran down my legs, and I was grateful no one was around to see me. I didn’t have a clue what time it was. I almost cried with relief when I made my way to a door. Now I just had to make it home.

  With no money, I was walking or finding a guy who needed some loving. I’d left all my shit in that place. The crawling was back in my skin, and I debated finding a place to rob. With what weapon, I thought. I just had to get to Darnell. He’d take care of me. I couldn’t feel my legs as I walked down the street. It was late enough in the morning there were people out. They all stared at me. I scratched my arms furiously and glared. They didn’t know my life, and they didn’t know how I felt.

  Money. Money was what I needed. Smoothing my hair, I saw a gentleman standing on the side of the road, waiting for a taxi. He was wearing a suit. I saw dolla
r signs.

  “Hey there, baby, you looking for a date?”

  He looked up and let his eyes scan my body. “Get away from me, you crackhead.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Just give me a couple dollars. Please, I’m desperate.”

  He pushed me away from him. “Back off, you fucking junkie.” A taxi came up, and I spit at him as he got inside. “Fuck your little limp dick anyway.”

  I continued walking. What the fuck made me spit at him? This was insane. I was being overwhelmed by the crawling feeling and my twisted, painful stomach.

  “Hey. Quit being a crazy bitch and come here.”

  “Darnell?” He was standing halfway in an alley, looking at me like I was crazy. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life. “Please tell me you’re holding.”

  “I have coke, Gia. You don’t like coke.”

  “Just give me what you have, Darnell.” I clung to his arm.

  “Holy fuck, Gia. You’re a mess. Come here.” He pulled me behind a dumpster, and I watched him pull a bag from his pocket. He was untying it too slow, so I tried to grab it from him.

  To my horror, he dropped it, and it went underneath the dumpster. I stared in disbelief, and he slapped me. Hard. Too stunned to react, I just stared at him. I wanted him to slap me again.

  I want him to slap me again.

  “Get the fuck away from me right now, Gia.”

  I understood why he was angry. Getting down on the road, I lay flat on my stomach, trying to stick my hand underneath. It wouldn’t fit. “Shit.”

  He took off down the alley.

  I jumped up and chased him. “Baby, get more. Get some dope. We need it.” I begged him. I needed a fix, and nothing was going to get in my way, not even my pride.

  “Gia, leave me alone. I don’t have money. I had my coke, and you’re so fucking stupid you made me drop it.” He was gone.

  Dead end again. It’d been my fault, but I felt the rage building. I racked my brain. Who did I know?

  James.

  My ex and a guy who probably had something lived nearby. It was actually strange for Darnell to be selling on this side of Karim. That had been both good and bad luck.