Crimson Moon

"Open wide," she said, slowly pulling the thick black zipper of her rubber catsuit down. My stomach clenched nervously. For reasons beyond me, my dick got even harder. So hard it actually hurt. I gave my bonds one last desperate tug. No use. And then I felt it, tingling down my shoulders and through my spine. True surrender. I meekly opened my mouth and shuddered. Another involuntary orgasm was about to rip through me.

How did I get myself into this position?

***

Take a step back. Rewind my life as if it's on one of those ancient boxy VHS cassettes. Orgasm, zipper, rubber catsuit, foreplay, pain, more foreplay, leather, bondage, entrapment...speeding back...it's all a blur...

Ah there we are. This morning.

"You know what your problem is?" My roommate Claire said to me in the kitchen.

"I suspect you're about to tell me," I replied as I shook granola into my yoghurt.

"You're a control freak. Your life would be so much better if you'd just let go."

"As if you know anything about choices. Granola?"

"No I like human food."

"Staying healthy and focussed Claire, that's what life's all about."

"Now just wait..."

"A beige pantsuit? Is that what you intent to wear to a job interview?"

Giving up on our conversation, Claire walked out of the kitchen. Or so I thought...

***

Fast forward to twenty minutes later. Me on the subway. I actually managed to conquer a seat, next to a pretty girl with long, straight, crimson red hair. It nicely offset her tight black leather jacket. I wanted to stare at her like a cartoon character. Tongue at my feet and eyes on springs. But that's not how civilized people behave. Not even those of us with cherished fetishes. No staring, no manspreading, and definitely no touching, I thought. Just enjoy her presence quietly and surreptitiously.

I smelt the sweet flowery scent of her perfume. Powerful enough to kill the subway-smell. Quite a feat in itself. My eyes fell on an intricate tattoo peeking out of the sleeve of her leather jacket. Was that a flowery vine or just a bunch of lines? Where would it lead?

"It's rude to stare," she said.

I looked up. Startled.

"Nice tattoo," I tried.

"No," she replied, "you're not talking your way out of this."

At this point I was at that odd junction between annoyance and surprise, with a slight tinge of guilt for added spice. I wanted to reply, but couldn't decide between fuck you and what on earth are you talking about?

As I fumbled for a comeback the train arrived at one of the interminable stops between my apartment and work.

"Follow me," she said.

"What?" I wanted to say more, but she got up. As she walked towards the exit, my eyes automatically rested on her perfectly shaped ass. It strained against her tight black leather pants. Inspiring. Tight leather pants, short leather jacket. Crimson red hair. The only missing ingredients where a pair of thigh-high boots and a chopper to drape herself over.

She got off the train. I remembered Claire and her attempt at life lessons. Control freak? Me? I got up and followed the girl. That would show Claire just how wrong she was about me. As wrong as she was about that hideous beige pantsuit she'd decided to wear to an interview.

The girl was already walking up the concrete stairs as I got off the train. The steel heels of her ankle boots beating that unmistakeable, and utterly sexy, clack-clack-clack as she steadily ascended. I picked up the pace.

She was out of sight as I got up the stairs. Luckily I could follow the sound of het clacking heels through the subway tunnels. It came from my left. It wasn't stalking if she told you to follow her, was it? No matter, I could always explain, I hoped, as I followed the sound of her heels.

I almost caught up to her at the station's exit. Unfortunately she was already through the turnstile as I fumbled for my subway pass.

She was out of sight as I finally pushed through the metal bar blocking my way. I stepped into the busy streets. No chance to follow her tell-tale clacking now. I looked around. Desperate. A door opened two buildings down from the station. She got out, winked, beckoned and stepped back inside.

I ran over and caught the door as the metal closer was pushing it shut. It led into some kind of club. A long, red carpeted hallway with a coat check counter halfway through and a double door at its end. I spotted her walking down the hallway and didn't think as I stepped in after her. The door closed behind me with a loud snap.

Would a control freak do that? I thought defiantly as I started to wonder where on earth I was. The girl disappeared through the double doors. I couldn't make out the room behind it.

I was alone in an empty hallway. Seriously doubting if what I was doing was legal. To make matters worse, I actually had to get to work. I turned around, only to discover the door had no discernible doorknob. How had that girl opened it?

I turned back round again. Coat check counter or double doors? I took my phone and send an app to my co-worker and office friend Monica. 'Examining mystery. Tell boss I'm sick. My location if missing ;)'. I attached my location and walked towards the coat check counter, hoping to at least find the name of the club I was in.

A black plaque above the counter had frilly gold writing on it: Non Ducor, Duco. The duck club? Whatever. No one manned the counter. It had three long rails with empty coat hangers. In the back was a rather bland looking door. I looked at the double doors, then climbed over the counter to try the bland door. You lock me up? I'll surprise you yet. The bland door was locked. Slightly embarrassed, I climbed back the way I'd come.

The double doors opened at a push. Behind was a dark room. It smelled of slightly stale liquor, too many people and -- overpowering all that -- rubber. Had someone been hoarding tube tires? In the gloom I couldn't make out size of the room, but concluded it must be quite spacious. Nothing to it, I thought, activating the flashlight on my phone and stepping in. I have to admit my brave face at that point was a façade. Non ducor, duco. Where no smart duck, ducks in? I should've learned Latin I guess.

The double doors snapped shut behind me as I entered the large room. I should've seen that one coming. They made a loud click. One of those 'we are definitely locked' clicks. I briefly wondered if a locksmith somewhere sold locks like these. Maybe as some sort of speciality item. 'Now with extra click!'

I lifted my phone to shine the flashlight around. The light only managed to accentuate the dim gloom I was standing in.

Another loud click and I was blinded by a piercing bar of white light. Now that's how you give a smartphone an inferiority complex. My eyes watered. I tried to hold my arm in front of my face to block the glare.

"There's a crate at your feet," a distorted version of the girl's voice said. "Drop your phone in the crate."

I hesitated. The inner door was locked. The outer door was locked. But a phone makes you feel quite secure. On the other hand whomever I called for help would need time to get here. Whoever got that spotlight on me, was already there, able to do who knows what before help arrived.

I stood in the glare of the spotlight. Pondering. Then I remembered I already informed Monica of my location. Better than nothing. I placed my phone in the crate at my feet. The crate drove away, seemingly on its own accord. Someone must've enjoyed repurposing a remote control car.

After a short wait the crate drove back to my side.

"Remove your coat and put it in the crate," the girl's distorted voice again.

I had been about to take of my coat anyway. It was warm enough inside. Too hot actually. I was sweating through my undershirt. No big deal. I dropped my coat into the crate.

It drove away and came back after another short wait.

"Remove your shoes."

"What?" I looked straight into the light. Big mistake. My eyes started to water again. I blinked for about a minute. No answer came.

"I'm not going to remove my shoes," I said.

The light snapped out. I stood in complete darkness. At that point I realized I no longer had a flashlight. It didn't take long for the darkness to come to live. I felt shapes brushing past me. Or did I? My heartbeat went up. I tried to walk back to the double doors. Stumbled. Lost my way. Stubbed my toe. Ha, luckily I still had my shoes on. I tried to find the doors again. Almost tripped over the crate. Was that a dog I heard growling in the darkness? Just my imagination? Sniffing? Growling? Coming closer? Nervously, out of ideas, I complied and took of my shoes. I felt around for the crate, found it and quickly dropped my shoes in.

"You've got my shoes!" I called out. I heard the faint whirring of an electric motor.

After what felt like a century, the light snapped on again. Blinded, I whimpered at the sudden absence of darkness. The crate slid up again. I could tell where this was going.

"Remove your socks," the voice said.

I took off my socks and dropped them in the crate. I expected it to drive away, but it remained where it was.

"Remove your jacket and shirt."

I took off my jacket, folded it by habit, and put it in the crate. I unbuttoned my shirt, slid it off and placed it, half folded, on top of my jacket. Without thinking, I took off my sweaty undershirt and dropped it in as well.

The cart left and got back again.

"Remove your pants," the voice said.

I hesitated. Fearing the lights would go off, I dropped my pants, folded them and placed them in the crate.

Standing on the rather cold and slightly sticky floor I felt my hands shake slightly. Nerves. I tried to take a calming breath to steady the beating of my heart. I felt something else stir in me as well. Was that...excitement?

"Enjoying this?" the girl's distorted voice asked, sounding slightly amused.

It was as if she pressed the 'activate erection' button. My dick went hard and strained against my boxer briefs.

"Take off your poor briefs," the girl sighed.

I felt odd. Shame, arousal, fear and curiosity warring for precedence. Deciding I no longer cared I took of my boxer briefs and my dick sprang to full attention.

A soft distorted whistle. "Now that's enthusiasm," the girl said as the crate with my remaining clothes disappeared into the gloom.

After a short wait, the crate reappeared. It contained a small plastic cup with two red pills and a glass of water.

"Take those," the voice commanded.

"What? Why?" I said.

"Let's say it'll keep you nice and docile," she answered. "We don't want...incidents..."

"No," I said. "I don't do drugs. I don't even drink..."

"Yeah, yeah you're in control," the girl jumped in, "but think about this, mister Incontrol, you have no clothes, no phone, no wallet and nowhere to go. Are you sure you're in control?"

Shit. With all that was happening I didn't even realise my wallet and keys where in my pants.

"The question isn't whether you'll take those pills, but whether you'll take them now, in the dark or up your ass..."

With that last pronouncement the intercom fell silent. The silence lasted a while. I looked at the pills and the glass. What could I do? Would the lights go out again? My heartrate spiked. I squatted, placing a hand on the floor to steady myself. My treacherous dick still stood at full attention. Adrenaline, its one hell of an aphrodisiac.

The pills looked rather small in the cup. I hesitated another minute. Then inspiration struck. I took the pills in my mouth, but carefully pushed them beneath my tongue. Taking a small sip of water I swallowed while keeping the pills in my mouth. Now all I needed was an opportunity to spit them out surreptitiously.

"Good," the girl's voice said as the crate disappeared. "Follow the light."

The spotlight moved to my right, highlighting two chains held together by a large ring that stuck out of the floor. Each chain ended in a metal handcuff. Guessing what was about to happen, I took a chance, walked over and cuffed myself.

Good luck ordering me around.

When the cuffs snapped shut, the spotlight went out. The room was plunged in darkness again. I quickly moved my right hand to my face and spat the pills out.

As I pondered the darkness, I heard soft clicks. Smaller spots lit up the room. It was a spacious circular room. A nightclub by the looks of it. I'd chained myself up quite close to the centre of a dance floor. It had a severe case of 'seventies vibe'. It even had coloured glass tiles. No doubt those would light up when the music played. The room was encircled by a broad dais. Every ten feet a column marked its edge.

At the far end of the room the dais ended at a long bar. It had a mirror at its back and various bottles and glasses on display. Between the dance floor and the bar was another, slightly higher dais. At its centre stood a metal pole that stretched all the way to the top of room's domed ceiling. A huge chandelier hung in the centre of the dome. It snapped on as I looked, bathing the entire room in a warm orange-red glow.

Above the dance floor a gallery circled the room. A closed railing stopped me from seeing what was on it. On both sides above the bar the gallery ended in a door. In the centre of the room across from me, high above the bar, I saw a mirror. Most likely a window to an office that would provide a perfect view of the entire club from the other side.

As I was taking in my surroundings I heard the tell-tale clack-clack-clack of metal heels on concrete. The sound came from the right side of the room. There was an arched doorway there. I guessed it gave access to stairs leading to the gallery above.

With the chandelier providing ample light I took in the dais again. I'd expected the shapes shown by the smaller spots to be tables and chairs. They weren't. On my right, between the double doors I'd entered and the portal leading to the stairs I saw something that looked like a massage table. Past it, between the stairway and the bar was a black metal dentist's chair with red leather cushioning and stir-ups.

Gulping, I looked over to the other side. Six leather upholstered closets stood at an angle to the wall. On the side of each closet I saw implements hanging from hooks. I recognized whips, chains and coils of rope. Between these items where things I couldn't place. Some I couldn't even imagine a use for.

Between the closets I saw metal clothing racks. I spotted shoes on the bottom, boots hanging from hooks between dresses, skirts and items I couldn't identify. Most of the clothing was shiny. A lot of items where red and black. I finally realized where the rubber smell came from. Latex clothing. Enough to start a wholesale business.

The clack- clack- clack stopped. I looked back over to the 'furniture side' of the room. The leather clad girl was standing between the massage table and the dentist' chair. She looked me up and down with predatory eyes. It made me feel naked and vulnerable. Her gaze finally rested on my throbbing hardon. My mistake. Now, I felt naked and vulnerable.

She smiled a wolf's grin and held up a remote. With a loud rattle an ominous looking, x-shaped cross covered in black leather and bedecked with bright metal rings descended from the dome down onto the dance floor. It came to rest between me and the pole-dancing dais.

I gulped.

What had I gotten myself into?

***

With the cross settled in place the girl clack- clack- clacked over to me. Her gaze was firmly locked on my erection. She came to a halt, just out of my reach. Belatedly I realized she was holding a small, black riding crop.

"Welcome slut," she said, "my name is Crimson Moon. You may call me Domina."

She waited. I briefly considered speaking, but a faint suspicion that was just what she wanted me to do made me hold my tongue.

"So you are a proper little slut. Good. No need to gag you...yet."

Her heels clicked again as she slowly walked around me.

"On your knees you pretty little slut," she said.

I don't think so, I thought, as I stiffened my knees. She walked back into my field of view, pointing a small remote at me. She gave a feigned sigh as she pushed a button. With a loud ratchetting noise the chains holding my wrists withdrew into the ground. It was either touch my toes with my hands or bend my knees as my wrists where inexorably pulled down. I decided kneeling would leave me less exposed and bent my knees.

I heard her walking behind me. I managed to crane my head just in time to see her crop snap out. It hit me full on the left buttock. The pain was like a spark that zapped from my butt straight into my brain. I cried out in shock and surprise.

"How does that make your dick feel?" Domina said.

I felt my cock throbbing in time with the pulse of pain and groaned.

As my mind reeled I heard her heels clicking away, returning a short while later. I felt her push my right ankle into a leather cuff. She buckled it close and snapped a lock shut for good measure. The process was repeated for my left ankle.

I briefly considered kicking her, but decided against it. There was no telling what she would do, and the metal cuffs on my wrist held me very securely to the ground.

From behind me she said: "Almost ready to start, my pervy little stalker"

"My what? I didn't..." I started. A single, soft tap with her hand on my buttock was all she needed to shut me up.

I felt her fix something to the ring of my leg cuff. Risking a look I saw a metal bar with a ring on each end. One of the rings was attached to my cuff. She pushed the bar, forcing my leg to move.

"Hey stop it," I said as she kept pushing. She giggled.

I tried to push back.

"Please make me hurt you," she whispered. I stopped resisting. The ring on the other side of the bar clicked in place.

The metal bar spread my ankles apart to just about the edge of how far they could comfortably go. I was kneeling on the floor as if in deep prayer. My hands and wrists were on the ground, I couldn't close my knees, and my ass was up in the air. My dick hung free between my legs, still as hard as it could get. At least I thought it was as hard as it could get (little did I know).

I rested my face on my chained up wrists.

My body shook involuntarily as her hand suddenly clenched around my balls. She gave them a sharp tug. I grunted.

"Do I have your attention? Good. There are rules. As you no doubt expect."

She giggled girlishly, letting go of my balls and getting up.

With her heels clicking steadily she walked in circles around me.

"As far as you're concerned my name is Domina. I expect 'yes Domina' to questions and 'thank you Domina' when I punish you. After all we're both here for you, no?"

"No way...," I started.

Another slap as she expertly hit my right buttock with her crop. I gasped for air.

Looking between my legs, past my dangling dick and balls I drew a shuddering breath. I saw her standing over me, full lips drawn into a twisted smile. Her lower lip quivered slightly as she held the crop ready to strike. It was the look in her eyes that made me stop and consider my next words with extreme care. Her lips quivered. She was horny, angry and pumped full of adrenalin. A junky about to get a shot? A predator about to pounce? Both? She looked manic, lustful and - for lack of better words - utterly depraved.

"You will not try to escape," she said, her breath coming in quick excited rasps. "I get...creative...with escapees."

She slapped my left buttock again, managing to land the crop right on top of the previous hit. I'd thought the first slap was as painful as it got. I was wrong. The second one was much, much worse. The pain shot into my brain, bounced back again to my buttock and then, bouncing up and down, slowly petered out,

"Did that hurt?", she crooned as she squatted down behind me. I flinched as she touched my burning buttock and softly stroked it, her thumb resting on my taint.