(This is a story about trust lost and then earned. It is a story about lust, love and the many shades in between. It is a story about family, some who you are born with and some who you earn.)

Chapter One (Lies)

*You never really know where you are going until you get there.*

To provide a not too short background here:

My Father is Conrad Cullen. He's a highly successful OBGYN who loves his career more than everything. Everything is about his practice, his colleagues, his conventions, and other social functions that come with profession. He's an athletic fifty year old, with gray hair gone to white.

My Mother is Ilene Cullen. She owns a printing company that has eaten up much of her time since I was still a teenager. She's forty-four, but looks ten years younger. Her being gone didn't affect me much, seeing how she wasn't too motherly when she was around. Her only saving grace in my opinion is that she's terribly hot. She's five-foot seven, around one hundred and thirty pounds, large, full C-cup breasts, an ass to die for, and silky black hair. He is mildly tanned, more beige than coffee brown. Her face is wonderful, with sculpted cheekbones, full lips, and deep brown eyes that seem to soak up the light. Too bad she's such a bitch.

Finally, there is my younger Sister is April Cullen, seventeen and growing into Mom's younger doppelganger, physically that is. Her only physical difference is that her eyes sparkle, especially when she laughs. Personality-wise, she is virtually the polar opposite. She's friendly, out-going, optimistic, and has been my friend since she could say the words 'Brother'. How she has remained so has always amazed me since Dad ignores her – the past three birthdays, he wrote her a check at the breakfast table and told her to 'have fun.' Mom resents her, for being a younger, fresher her. The last compliment I heard my Mom give her was to hear her say, "Dear, don't you look nice today; not your normal slutty self at all." My sister has leaned on me since she was five.

I'm Damien Cullen, twenty two, six foot two, and one hundred and seventy five pounds. I have a thick head of black hair, am clean shaven, and I have my Mother's dark, stormy eyes. Since my favorite sport is swimming, I have a good all-around tan and a compact body. My penis is large, but I've never felt the urge to grab up a measuring tape and measure its length or circumference. Throughout high school and college I never had complaints. Since I was fifteen, and my Sister was ten, I have taken care of her. I made sure her homework was right, her projects got turned in on time, and I let the first few guys she dated knew I could pound them into the ground if I even suspected they'd tried anything. I wasn't jealous. I never thought of my Sister that way. She was my friend and I was her older Brother.

My Dad never made it to a swim meet, asked me what I was doing when he saw me in my tux on prom night, and his only dating advice was to pull out and shoot on her stomach, which is something every fourteen year old needs to know, right? He was nice enough to get me a car on my sixteenth birthday – Mom got one as well, so I figured how that had been worked out. I had to get myself lessons to learn how to drive and an older friend of mine took me for my driver's test. I swear that in the past ten years when I've called my Dad's office for something, I've never talked to him, or heard back from him. I took my Sister to his PA to teach her the facts of life and how do work those feminine products. Mom couldn't be bothered and my Sister was really starting to freak out. Basically, my Dad was the sperm donor and that was about it.

Mom was a more difficult case. Around the age of twelve, I discovered that all my male friends didn't want to hang out at my family's pool because it was the nicest one in the neighborhood. Mom trended toward the most modern swimwear and had worked her body so that she put many swimsuit models to shame. Even when she threw herself into her business, my weekends were filled with some very sexually confusing time for me and my friends. Seriously, how often does a sixteen year old want to hear just how they would do my Mom? Anyway, at fifteen, Dad loaned – yes loaned – my Mom the money to start her own card publishing business. If I often missed her at breakfast, I wouldn't see her until well after dark on a weekday unless she was being drug off to one of Dad's functions. If she hadn't arrived by the time I went to bed, I left her a status update on her pillow, so she could at least pretend to know what her children were doing.

Finally, I graduated high school and my family was good enough to send me to a very nice university were I rewarded them by getting an engineering degree in four years. I was never the smartest kid in the room, but I made up for it with a drive to succeed in whatever I put my mind to. I only had two regrets about college. I had to leave my Sister to fend for herself – she did well and we talked on the phone about her day each weekday night around nine – unless she was on a date, then she called me when she got in. If she needed anything, I found a way to get it for her, but I hated being away. My other regret happened right before graduation. I was helping a friend with a project that was going to take me out of town for three days, but thing fell apart at the last minute, so I decided to go back to the apartment I shared with my long-time girlfriend and surprise her. She was surprised alright. So was I. I found her in bed going at it hot and heavy with one of her college professors – one of her female professors – one of her married female professors.

Here I was, camcorder in hand, about to say "Hey Honey, I'm home," when I see her in between the legs of a woman twice her age, going at it like crazy, while the naked professor is twisting one of her own nipples with one hand and grinding my girlfriends head into her pussy with the other. According to the recording, I stood there seven minutes and twenty one seconds before I backed out. I went back to the front door and slammed it. I called out like nothing was wrong then made my way back to the bedroom. She was sitting in the bed, female cum on her face, tits exposed and smiling at me as if nothing was wrong. There were too many articles of clothing on the floor, and too few places to hide. I went to the bed and sat down.

"Chrissie, who's in the closet?" I said with as much calm as I could muster. My girlfriend, Chrissie, stammered. For thirty seconds no one said anything. The closet door opened slowly and my naked instructor stepped out. She couldn't look me in the eye. Instead she shuffled toward the door.

"Wait," I tell her. I hand her the bra and panties from the floor. "You may want to put these on before you leave. It is cold out." Chrissie gave a hysterical giggle.

"Chrissie, I am going to go now. I'll be back tomorrow at noon and I expect you to have your things gone. We are through."

"Damien," she said softly.

"I am not going to say anything. You two do whatever you like. I wish you had talked to me about this instead of going behind my back. You abused my trust, and that is what really hurts."

I left them there, staring at one another. I packed up a few items that I didn't want Chrissie to run off with, including the camcorder, and headed out to a friend's place. I called him and he agreed to put me up, no questions asked.

Needless to say, my post-graduation plans for me and Chrissie fell apart and I found myself moving back into my parent's house. I got a part-time work at an engineering firm. They loved my work, but in the current economy I was lucky to have anything at all. I learned that most of my old friends had either moved out and up, or had become hedonistic party animals with no future. Dating was tough. For some reason I had trust issues and the little lies that most woman felt were inconsequential, were deal-killers for me. After having regular sex for nearly two years, I was in a long dry spell. Things were about to change though.

About a month after I returned, I had come up late at night from my basement apartment where my bedroom was situated in order to get something to drink. I'd let my mini-frig become empty, but what gems that led me to. I was walking past my Father's study when I heard my parents talking. Dad was angry; Mom sounded pissed off and was pleading at the same time. I had to know what was going on.

"Fifty thousand dollars," my Dad growled. "This is the last time. I've sunk too much money into that pit. If it wasn't for Carter's (one of my Dad's partners in the practice) views on marriage, I would have divorced your useless ass by now. This is it," he said, which was followed by the sound of Dad cutting a check, "because next time I'm calling a divorce lawyer. With our pre-nuptial agreement, you will now get nothing. Worse, I'm going to rake you over the coals for all the money I've loaned you. I hope you like living in a cardboard box, you bitch. Now, what you do you say," he sneered.

"Thank you, Conrad," she said through grinding teeth. There was a moment of tense silence. "Do you want me to go down on you now?" she sighed.

"Bitch," Dad laughed, "you have nothing I want, and Ilene, if I catch you rubbing up against another man, I'll break you. No one wants you cunt anyway. What do you say?"

"Yes Conrad." Mother sounded defeated. I felt sorry for her. The next morning she slapped April so hard she left a large, angry red welt that would be hard for her to explain to her friends. I was busy helping April up, when my Sister saw the anger in my eyes.

"Don't," April pleaded with me quietly. For my Sister, I did nothing, and things remained pretty much like that for five months.

I was angry. I had had maybe one too many beers to drink, I found myself close to where my Mom's business was located, and I figured it was a good time to give her a piece of my mind. I walk into her store and see her long suffering assistant Peggy standing behind the counter. Peggy looked up, recognized me from the few times I had to come by and get permission slips signed for April, and smiled. She was a mousey woman, around thirty and couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her thick-rimmed glasses had slipped down her nose a bit. She had delicate features and long, thin fingers.

"Damien, right?"

"Hey, Peggy. Is my Mom in?" I responded. She stood up and her smile broadened, realizing I had remembered her.

"No. She left around eight, but I think she comes back in after closing."

"Do you mind if I go back to her office and leave her an angry bit of mail on her computer?" I chuckled. I was just a little drunk.

"Knock yourself out," she giggled. She buzzed me around the counter and I went back into the printing area and then to her office. I sat down at her computer and was about to type something when I saw a pair of woman's shoes on the ground next to the half-open door to her private bathroom. That was odd. I could have sworn that was the pair she'd worn this morning. I went over to them, expecting them to be broken, but they were not. I opened the door into Mom's bathroom and cut on the light. Hanging from the walk-in shower (Mom likes her luxuries) was the suit she'd been wearing this morning. I was sure of it. I looked around. Behind the door was an empty dress bag. Now I was curious.

I cleaned up any trace that I was there. I went back to Peggy, told her that I was going to wait for Mom, and assured her that I would make sure the door closed if I left before Mom arrived. I also made her promise to not tell Mom that she'd seen me, in case I did decide to go home first. After all, I was a bit drunk. She gave me a knowing wink and made me promise to make it up to her later. I hastily agreed. When it came time for Peggy to close up, I helped her out, chatted her up, and even gave her a kiss on the cheek goodnight. All I needed then was a place to hide. As I said, I was a little drunk. Looking back on my actions the next morning, I realized I was acting nuts.

Mom came in around two-thirty. Fortunately she woke me from a sound sleep. There was enough light generated by the display cases that Mom didn't need to cut any of the lights on. She did cut the light on in her office though. I was sober, but reasoned that since I was already there, I might as well feed my curiosity. I snuck up to the door and peeked in. Mom was taking off her black trench coat. She sat down with her back to me, but I could see her working on some glossy black calf boots. The hose they exposed were fishnet, not the normally conservative style I knew her to use.

When she stood up, I realized that the fishnets weren't hose, they were stockings, because I could make out the garters that hung beneath the hem of her pleated black skirt she was using. Above the skirt was bare skin. The bustier was a size too small, crimson red with black lace and lacing. I couldn't make out the lines of a brazier. Around her neck was a thick black collar. As an afterthought, I realized that she had on black lace fingerless gloves. I had no idea what all of this meant, but I had a tent in my pants and a good deal of shame over that. All I wanted to do right then was bend her over the desk and take her. I had to get out of there. I snuck out before I could witness her changing, made it to my car, and was home in bed before I heard her come in. I had a fitful night sleep.

The next morning, my Sister was teasing me about how tired I looked. Mom came in looking equally beat. I casually asked her how her night had been. She gifted me with her normal contemptuous gaze and lied. She said she'd worked late and crashed in the guest room when she got back. I decided to push a little. I asked if she needed me to help out around the store for a while. After all, work was slow, and family should help family. Mom's gaze hardened.

"It would take too long to train you and you can't seem to stick with anything anyway," she taunted. That was a total lie. I can't remember anything that I started that I didn't finish.

"Mom, let Damien help out," April asked kindly. She gave me a grin. She was helping me out, but I didn't imagine she would be if she knew my intentions, as vague as they were.

"No!" snapped Mom. She took her coffee and stalked out of the room. April's shrug to me showed her confusion. I excused myself, gave April a platonic kiss, and headed off to work. It was only a half-day, with a group meeting and the weekly update. Since I had already finished my part of the project to specifications and ahead of time, I decided to do some plotting. I needed a small camera that could be hid on my person. When I had it, and tested it out, I went back home and got some sleep. April woke me up when she got home we talked for a bit then shared a swim. She was talking to me about her school day, and I was trying to figure how much to tell her. I decided that since I really didn't know anything beside the fact that she wore something kinky, I held my tongue.

After April and I had an early dinner, I made up an excuse and called Mom to see if she was still at work. Peggy said she was, but was too busy to talk to me now. She asked if she could take a message, but I said 'no'. Peggy wouldn't lie to me. I told April I was going out for the night and drove to Mom's work. After that, all I had to do was stake out her car. Before nine she came out with the same trench coat on. She drove off and I was sure that with her arrogance she wasn't looking for a tail. She led me downtown to the old industrial district. It was going through gentrification, so it was safe enough to park on the street. I parked a few cars down from Mom. She walked right past my car going down the street. I got out and followed her.

A block down, she walked up to a large (and by that I mean HUGE) man who was standing in front of a non-descript door. If it hadn't been for the guy, I would have walked right past it. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out a thick, red, plastic card about the size of a wallet. The man waved a metal paddle over the card, nodded and opened the door for her. She went inside. I heard some noises before the door closed, but things were quiet when I strode past. I staked out the place and saw all kinds of people entering. There were some in expensive suits and guys who looked more at home on a construction site. They all produced a card, and they all got in. I needed a card and I knew how to get one. I stole Mom's.

The next night, I was ready to I was dressed in a black shirt, jeans, and black tennis shoes. I didn't want to stand out. I watched Mom approach first. Sure enough, she reached into her purse and ... looked around and finally knelt down and emptied her purse on the street. She was frantic. Finally the man said something to her that was apparently comforting. He pulled out a phone and made a call. The Man nodded to my Mom and opened the door for her. Now it was my turn. Only when I stood before the giant did it occur to me that if the ID card I'd stolen from Mom indicated who it should be, I was in for an epic beat-down. He looked at the card, at my face, and opened the door in one deliberate and practiced fashion. I was inside.

It was a chaotic whirl of noises, smells, and the contrast of bright spotlights in a lake of darkness. I heard whipping, slapping, sensuous moans, and yelps of pain. The odors of sex and sweat filled my nostrils. I stumbled down the first few steps because of the bad lighting. I scanned around for my Mother, spotted her and moved to a vantage point. Mom moved with a purpose. She came to an empty table under one of the lights. She didn't stay alone for long. A woman walked up to her and by the way she reacted, she knew my Mom. I wasn't ready for what happened next. Mother grabbed the woman by the hair with one hand while the other moved her short skirt up revealing her nicely trimmed pussy. She pushed the woman into her cunt and the woman began lapping her up. I wasn't sure what I was going to do next, or how I felt for that matter, but I was glad I was recording this.

It turned out I didn't have to worry about how I felt or what I was going to do next. A woman walked up to me and said, "Bow down," with some authority. I looked at her, wondering how and why she was even talking to me. As I took her in, I noticed she had jet black, hair worn very short. Her eyes were a rich hazel and looked to be one size too big for her face, which was almost doll-like. She wasn't tall, maybe five-one, but was wearing six-inch heels. She had a nice chest for her size, a tight stomach and waist, and gently swelling in the hips and ass. She was a tight package. She was wearing a black mesh body stocking and was tapping her palm with a riding crop.

The woman was looking at me expectantly, which was a pity because I was a little too angry to be kneeling down before anyone. I obviously wasn't acting fast enough, so she whipped the riding crop out and slapped me across the face with it. She had a vicious grin on her face when she hit me.

"Ow!" I reached out and touched my cheek were she'd hit me. I could feel a welt coming on.

"Bow down," she shouted gleefully. A few people were staring. She hauled back her hand for another swat. As the blow came down, I caught her slender wrist in my hand and squeezed.

"Bitch, are you crazy?" I shouted back at her. The look she gave me suddenly changed. Her face showed confusion and fear. I squeezed her wrist harder and twisted.

"Ow," she whimpered. Then something occurred to her. She looked surprised and really afraid. "Oh God!" she babbled, "I'm sorry. I saw the light turn red when you came in and I assumed you were part of the staff. Oh God!" I twisted a little harder, she bit her lip and tears weld up in her eyes. The riding crop dropped from her hands.

That was when it all made sense. I was in an S&M Sex club. People thought I was part of the entertainment because I had used my Mom's pass, which meant she was part of the entertainment too. When a red card comes in the light over the door flashed red and the patrons know that person is entertainment. Fuck me. This was what my Mom had turned to in order to save her failing business. My only problem was that I was now in the middle of an exclusive S&M club, with a mountain of muscle at the door and almost certainly other security types around where I couldn't see them. I also had hold of some poor woman who I was hurting to the point of tears. I had to think quickly.

"Pick up the riding crop," I snapped to her as I released her sore wrist. She rubbed it and looked at me fiercely. She was playing at a Dom, but I had no intention of playing submissive.

"Don't make me ask you again," I growled. She flinched. Reluctantly she bent over to pick up the discarded tool. The second she took her gaze from me, I hauled off and smacked her ass with as much force as I could muster. She yelped in pain and popped up.

"Pick up the riding crop," I repeated. She bent down and tried to find it while keeping her eyes on me, but couldn't find it by touch. Again, when she let her gaze slip for a moment, I slapped her other ass cheek. She yelped and popped up again, but this time had the riding crop. The look in her eyes was indescribable. I reached out and took her by the neck and pulled her close to me. She made no move to resist.

"I am going to use you like a cheap whore. Disobey me and things will get worse. What is your name?"

"We are not suppo ..." she tried to say, but I cut her off with a slap to the face. For a moment I was afraid I'd gone too far. When she looked back at me, though, she was crying, but smiling too.

"If I only wanted to refer to you as Bitch, I'd have told you so. Now, what's your name?" I hissed.

"Danielle," she whispered.

People around me began murmuring their approval. More important to me, we ceased being the source of too much speculation.

"Give me my riding crop," I commanded. She did so quickly.

"Danielle, are you here to fuck?" She nodded vigorously. "Too bad," I sneered, "I am here to watch other people fuck, but I'm not going to let you. I'm going to play with you, but you can't come. If you do, I'll make you pay. Do you want me to hurt you?" Danielle bit her lip and looked away. I could swear she was smiling. I led her over to a series of low, cushioned chairs. I sat down in one that gave me a good look of the spotlighted table my Mother was at. She was still being pleasured.

I pulled Danielle into my lap. I decided to get a good feel for what I had acquired. Her breasts were firm and her nipples responsive.

"Lick your fingers and start playing with your nipples," I whispered in her ear. "I want that cloth soaking wet. Nod if you understand." She did. I could already feel myself stirring to full wakefulness down below. I decided to see how she was doing. My hands roamed down her waist and stomach until I reached her hips. I reached between her thighs and pulled her legs apart. I didn't stop until they were outside my own somewhat spread legs, so I was betting she was uncomfortable and off-balance. I ran both hands up her thighs to her crotch, rubbing up and down. She was already soaking wet and immediately hit orgasm when I touched her in what must have been the right spot.

"Have you been bad?" I whispered in her ear. At first she was still riding through her orgasm, but when she calmed down, she nodded in the affirmative.

"What should I do to you?" I said quietly as I nibbled her ear. She groaned. My hands began rubbing what I assumed to be her clit. I could already feel her running up to her next climax.

"I ... I don't know," she panted. I bit into her neck and she moaned louder. I really wasn't in the mood to slap, or whip her. I had to think of something.

"Tell me something. Tell me something you don't want anyone else here to know," I commanded gently.

"I can't," she whined.

"Get off me. Go play somewhere else," I snarled.

"But ... but you said you would punish me," she whispered.

"Why? You are worthless to me. Why would I waste my time? Get off me," I said as I slowly pushed Danielle up.

"I'm a lawyer," she whispered tearfully. I waited. "I'm a divorce lawyer, who is divorced."

"Why did he leave you?" I growled. She began sobbing softly. "You couldn't let go in the bedroom, could you? You wouldn't lead and you wouldn't follow, so you lost him. He thought you were dead inside." She nodded. I leaned in and kissed her on the back of her neck. She moaned. I kissed around to one ear. "Good girl," I said. Danielle began grinding her ass into my crotch. That actually gave me an idea.

"Stand up," I told her. She stopped moving and tensed up. "Hush," I whispered. "I'm far from being done with you. Now, stand up." Danielle's heart fluttered. "Trust me," was my ghostly urging. She stood up. I ran my hands up and down her upper thighs, buttocks and crotch, ending up finally in the crotch. Her breath quickened. I pinched down the damp fabric between her legs. By the sound of her, I grabbed a few hairs too. I paused for effect then tore the fabric open, exposing her pussy and ass to me. The touch of the cool air caused Danielle to gulp in a deep breath.

"Sit, my Whore. Sit," I commanded. She quickly complied. I took a moment to watch my mother. She was putting a strap on while a different woman in front of her was bent over giving a man fellatio. Mom was eyeing the woman's ass intently.

I took the riding crop that I had laid down beside me. I brought it around, handle down, to Danielle's crotch and began rubbing the leather knob against vulva. Danielle gasped.

"Wait," she panted. "We don't have a Safe word."

"Stop. You tell me to stop and I'll stop," I told her. Danielle nodded. I whapped down on her clit and Danielle gasped. "That's for interrupting me, Slut," I teased. She began grinding her ass against my penis still trapped in my pants.

"You want this in your cunt, don't you my slut?" I asked, once more rubbing the knob up and down her slit. Danielle moaned. "Tell me you want it."

"Yes," she moaned. "Yes, I want it." I twisted he crop around and snapped it on her inner thigh. She yelped and hopped slightly.

"I want to hear my slut beg for it, like a proper slut. Tell me you are my slut. Tell me how much you want it." Danielle kept grinding as I talked to her. Whatever I was saying was having an effect, because I could feel her breathing becoming more ragged.

"Your slut begs for it, Master. Your slut begs to have her crop shoved up her pussy. Your slut begs to be pounded until she can no longer stand. Please," she begged.

"I'll do this one thing for you, but only because I want to see you squirm. I'm going to make you cum, you slut, and I'm going to punish you for it," I growled with sexual tension. For a guy who had no idea what he was doing, I hoped I wasn't doing half bad. I was wondering how much it would take to make her come again. I shouldn't have bothered. I only got the knob in before she gushed all over my hand. For a moment I thought she was having an epileptic seizure it went on so long. It earned me more attention than I liked as several women wanted to know what had set her off so hard. She abruptly stopped after more than a minute. I had to wrap my arm around Danielle to stop her from toppling to the floor. I let her rock back into me. I stole a peak and saw my Mom slamming her dildo into the woman I'd seen earlier. The woman was standing, but bent over with Mom behind her, ramming it into her pussy. Mom held on with one hand and slapped her hard on the ass with her other. She was alternating from side to side and the woman sounded like she loved it.

"Thank you," Danielle panted to me. She snaked an arm behind my head and pulled my head into her neck. "I ... I've never cum so hard."

"First night here?" I chuckled.

"Is it that obvious?" she sighed contentedly. "Can I claim you every night I'm here? I would like that. Would you? I can pay."

"Want you?" I growled. "Why would I want a worthless whore like you?" I taunted her. I reached around and took her free hand. I swear I heard her sob. "You are a pathetic slut. Why would anyone want you?" Her shoulders shook and I brought her arm around to my back. "Certainly even a stupid cunt like you can tell you do nothing for me?" I began rubbing her hand up and down my iron shaft that was aching for her. Suddenly she realized the effect she was having on me and her demeanor changed. "You obviously bore me beyond tears, because you are not very talented and there are better, fresher, prettier girls out there. You are old and totally unresponsive. How could anyone want such damaged goods?" She was now rapidly pumping my shaft through my pants. She sobbed again.

"Master, have mercy," she pleaded. "Give your worthless whore another chance." She was clearly getting into it. I had another brainstorm.

"Turn around and face me. Sit in my lap." As she did so, I gave her a quick lash of the whip. She hopped into my lap, smiling. I took her head in both hands. Her eyes were on fire. "I want to taste your tears," I breathed. "I want to feel your pain on my lips." I brought her head forward finding no resistance on her part. I kissed under one eye then licked up the tears with three long, broad strokes. "Your weakness is like nectar to me," I grinned. I did the same on the other side. "Perhaps I can find some small value in you after all."

Danielle moved in to kiss me on the lips. "No," I responded. "You don't get to kiss me. I doubt you are worthy, you contemptible thing." I grinned at her. "I must see if your lips are not totally slutty." I gently kissed her lower lip, touched it with the tip of my tongue, and moved to the corner of the mouth. Danielle tried to reach out with her tongue to touch mine, I pulled back. I gave her a quick snap on the middle back. "Bad," was all I needed to say. I spent five minutes going over her lips and nose and eyes. When I pulled back I was kind of freaked out by the look the woman giving me.

"Go get us some drinks. Bring water. You would mess anything else up."

"Yes Master," she beamed then padded off to the bar. I had some time to observe Mom. She has the woman she'd been punishing earlier down on the ground in the doggy position. She was reaming the woman up the ass and had one hand in her hair, pulling it back and calling her a bitch and slut. The woman kept egging Mom on. The man who had been there earlier was sitting back, naked and flaccid. I was beginning to understand some of the social dynamics of this place. Entertainers set up in certain areas and clients came around to participate or observe. I figured out that Mom was really popular. She was surrounded by a variety of clientele and that was something I found interesting. I found the attention that Danielle and I had generated to be something I found disturbing. I wanted to lay low. I wanted this to be a one-time thing. I was here to hurt my Mom for all the hurt she'd done to me and April. I noticed a young woman, in her twenties, wearing leather straps that barely covered anything watching me intently. Every time I looked at her she lowered her head and shuffled a few feet closer. Fuck, I had a fan. When Danielle showed, I immediately sensed the tension between them.

"What are you doing?" I thundered as I stood up angrily. Danielle nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Did I tell you to stand around stupidly? You are my slave and my slave alone and you will do what I say or you will feel pain down to your soul!" Danielle ran over to me and went into a kneeling position, offering the bottles of water up. I took one bottle opened it and drank deeply.

"Danielle, do you see the girl watching us?"

"Yes Master," she said softly.

"She is younger and prettier than you. Do you think she could excite me more than you do?" Danielle remained head down and silent. "She can," I answered. "She would be dynamic, much like your husband's new wife." I was guessing about the new wife thing, but her reaction told me I'd called it right. I thought I saw a tear. "You only have one thing that she does not have. Do you know what that is?" Beaten down and miserable, Danielle could barely respond. I reached out and took her by the chin and tipped her head up.

"She doesn't have me as her Master. Why would want another worthless slave when I know I will grow tired and sore punishing you all night long. Go over to her and tell her that you, and only you, are my slut, my whore, my property." Danielle blinked in disbelief. I struck her shoulder with the riding crop. She ran over and confronted the other slave. I was afraid there would be a fight, but Danielle acted so fierce that the taller woman fell back and left.

"You took too long," I told her. "Bend over my knee so that you will be more obedient". She knelt and then prostrated herself over my lap. She even gave her butt an extra bit of wiggle I leaned down to her ear so that no one else could hear. "I said you can trust me. I have to punish you for doubting." She wiggled harder. I brought the knob of the crop down to her love canal and slowly started rubbing along it. Then I gave a quick, strong slap to her left ass cheek. She squeaked. I alternated a few seconds to the other stroke. Then I plunged the knob in one strong thrust. Danielle gasped and struggled. Now I was spanking her cheeks and pumping the crop into her in a rapid gate. Even through the fabric, I could tell her cheeks were very red. She hit orgasm for the third time that night.

"You will pay for that," I whisper into her ear. She's crying. I give her a moment to say something.

"Don't ... stop ... please." She panted. I nodded. I took the riding crop and placed it at the entrance of her asshole. I felt her tense up. Considering I had experimented with Chrissie and anal sex twice, I was unsure what to do. I knew ramming it all the way made you scream. I pushed it hard into the sphincter and it gave away. Danielle screamed. I made short, powerful strokes as I pushed it in farther and farther. I made one more powerful thrust and she screamed again and didn't stop screaming. I thought I might have broken the girl. Wetness flushed down my legs. She'd had a big one again. She was now utterly helpless.

I pulled Danielle up until she was in my lap and I had her head up against my chest. She was still panting and crying, and was a total mess. The riding crop was still stuck in her ass. I saw Mom waving off another client and heading for the door. That was my signal to leave. There was the small problem of the woman on my lap. I stood up and pulled Danielle up with me.

"It is time for me to go," I told her. I could see her struggling back to life. "Can you stand on your own?"

"You can't leave," she pleaded. "When will I see you again?"

"Why would I ever want to see you again, you whore," I commented dryly. That upset her.

"Stop, stop, stop," Danielle begged. It took a micro-second to realize that this is our safe word.

"When can I see you again?" she repeated

"I don't know. It depends and my life is complicated right now," I confessed.

"Don't you want me?" she said is a pitiful voice. I smiled down at her, cupped her cheeks, and brought our head close together.

"I want to take you out to the car and have you. An hour later when we are done with that, I want to take you to my home were we can have sex until sunrise. Then I want you to cook me breakfast because I have this fantasy about you running around in an apron and nothing else. I'm not sure how much eating I would actually get to do, but I promise you this, I want you. Don't doubt that. "I'm Roger and I'm an engineer. My girlfriend left me for another woman."

"What a fool," she panted. "I wouldn't let you go."

"I feel pretty much the same way about your husband. What a moron. When do you come here? I will try and make it," I promised

"I can be here tomorrow. If not then, maybe next Tuesday? I will grab you the moment you step in. Let's go get your money." I reach down and play with the riding crop still stuck in her ass. I reached for it, but she said, "Leave it in, it feels different."'

Getting the money was interesting. The Keeper asked to see my card then asked who I was. I told him the truth. He smirked.

"You did well tonight. You have a client. It usually takes two to three weeks to establish a relationship. Very well, four hours at two hundred fifty per hour is one thousand dollars plus tips." The man counted out the hundred for me while she ran off somewhere. I was heading for the door when I found her at my side. She folded some more money into my hands, as well as a phone number. She leaned up to give me a kiss, but I stopped her.

"I didn't give you permission to kiss me," I threatened. "You will have to pay." I leaned in for a kiss, and it was a strong kiss with our tongues swirling without hint of domination.

"My punishment?" she asked demurely.

"You have two punishments. One you will not know what it is until it happens. My first punishment is anticipation. The other is whatever my mind comes up with given a day to think on it. Know that I will be planning something special."

Danielle looked on in rapt attention. I turned and while leaving I was feeling good about myself. At the door, the Man Mountain pulled me aside.

"Card buddy." I handed him the card. He didn't look happy. I figured there was no chance of me getting in ever again, but there was a good chance of me needing a hospital.

"Here's your new card, Damien Cullen. Remember, don't talk about the club. If you find a likely candidate to join, contact us and we will do the inviting. We are open from ten until four, though special parties are allowed. We are open Tuesday through Sunday, and you must attend two days a week, or you get dropped. Do you need to know anything else?"

"Are you going to beat me up now?" I inquired. The Man laughed then said, "Go home."