Latisha: A Tale of Submission Ch. 01byDragonSlayer_OK©
To my readers…This is what I suppose what you my call a prequel to a prequel to my stories, "Dawn: A Tale of submission". It takes place nearly three years before the first chapter in Dawn's story. Eventually, I hope to fill in the entire three years in several chapters. A great deal of this was written concurrently with Dawn's story, however, I was stuck on it for a bit, while the Dawn story rather ran away with me. This story would fit very nicely into the BDSM category and the Interracial Love category
One other thing. You will find that here and most of my other stories involve bikers and the biker lifestyle. Hey, I'm a scooter tramp in real life, what can I say?
I walked into The Keep, a very up-scale BDSM club on the east side of the city. It had just about anything any BDSM'er could want. I had ridden there on my Wide Glide after the meeting of my M/C (Motorcycle Club). I showed my membership card and looked about taking things in. It is not a private club but fairly exclusive and non-members had to pay a hefty cover charge.
There was an open bar like any other quiet little bar in the city. The open bar was open to all without the cover charge. There was also the 'closed' bar where members could dress anyway they wished including not at all if they so desired. Access to the closed bar required going though a locked door, which the doorman had to press a hidden buzzer to open. In the closed bar there was also had a stage area that contained racks and other "torture" devices against one of the walls where submissives and slaves could be strapped to and 'punished' in front of an audience if they were inclined to exhibitionism. There were even a couple of beds there for whatever reason one might choose to use them. I generally, like the closed bar because some of the D/s and Master/slave couples were known to put on quite a show. And yes, I do at times have pretty strong voyeuristic tendencies.
I slowly strolled into the closed side and up to the bar find my usual barstool unoccupied. I preferred this particular seat because it allows a good view of everything while keeping a low profile. I have long considered myself a student of life, which only means that I like to watch people and how they interact with one another. Keeping my proverbial low profile helps me in that. Silly? Perhaps. It is just one of my many eccentricities. There were quite a few people in the closed side this night. Unusual for a weeknight but whom am I to complain. I saw all manner of Doms/Dommes with and without their subs. A few of the subs were nude. There were a couple of subs, a male and female engaged in a sixty-nine while their mistress whispered softly to them.
I saw a very petite Asian woman strapped to a St. Andrew's cross completely nude getting her cute little backside flogged mercilessly. From where I sat, I couldn't tell if her moans were from pain or pleasure. Probably both. There were welts all over her ass and I was briefly concerned until I was able to hear what she was saying to the man flogging her.
"Yes Master. Thank you Master. Please Master. May I have another Master?" she purred at him. Even at this distance, I could see the pleasure and longing in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him and could hear it in her voice.
I chuckled to myself and muttered "Another happy pain-slut."
"You don't know the half of it. Ya shoulda seen them last weekend." A voice brought my attention back to the bar. It was Jeannie, the cute little California blonde barmaid. She was in her early to mid 20's, about 5' 3" and maybe 125. With the previously mentioned blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that hung just below her shoulder blades. And blue eyes. Her personality was so damned perky and sweet that I often worried about going into sugar shock any time she was within five feet of me. She wore what she always wore. Skintight leather pants and a tiny leather halter-top that struggled to contain her huge 'man made' breasts. Same style of outfit made up in dozens of colors. Tonight's outfit was a yellow-blonde that almost matched her hair.
"The usual Mr. Gabe?" She asked. I have assumed that she was not a hardcore submissive but, she always showed a small measure respect to all Doms/Dommes addressing everyone by their first name but, adding a Mr. or Miss. to it
"Yeah, a nice cold MGD" I said "And no glass."
"You never want a glass." she remarked
"That's right but, half the time you bring me one anyway." I reminded her.
She frowned a moment then brightened again. "Well, you know me Mr. Gabe. I'm from California and am prone to blonde moments." she said with a laugh. She brought me the beer without the glass this time and went on "Anyway" She pointed to the Asian girl on the cross "Last Friday or Saturday, can't remember which, He used a riding crop on her and broke the skin three or four times. She bled quite a bit."
"She seems okay now Jeannie" I said.
"I'm sure she is. But the silly little girl just stood up there, lashed to the cross, begging for more and coming all over herself.
"Did I miss anything other than that? Haven't been in for a couple a weeks." I asked looking around
Jeannie looked around as if to make sure she wasn't being overheard. "A new Mistress, complete with a couple of boy-toy subbies started coming in. Don't know much about her other than there something just not quite right about her. I can't quite figure out what it is and…" Jeannie looked around again "She's an African-American!"
"Yeah, right! Like that would ever really happen." I very seriously doubted what she told me. Blacks are very rare in this lifestyle. Especially women. She just looked at me and nodded.
"No way." I said.
"Way..." She said grinning "…and she's ve-e-ry hot. So hot, in fact, that if I were ever into women, I would consider becoming a full fledged subbie, tearing off all my clothes and throwing myself naked, at her feet."
"Jeannie, I sometimes think you're a lot more interested in women than you let on, aren't you?"
She put a very serious look "No way, Mr. Gabe!"
"Way!" I said grinning.
She laughed gaily and went down the bar to tend to other customers.
I sipped my beer and turned my attention back to the stage area. I noted a couple climbing onto one of the beds, both of them completely naked. They were an extremely unusual couple. He was at most 5' 2" and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet. She was a giant compared to him. At least six feet tall and over 300. She was not however; fat. She appeared to very muscular, very nearly like a male body builder. Hell, she could have easily been an offensive tackle for the Green Bay Packers.
The man lay down on his back. He was very erect and very huge. Huge? The guy had more than I did. I once again cursed the fates. To be honest, I was envious. Not that Mother Nature 'shorted' me. I'm a little over average at about 7". This man was at least 9 or 10 inches. Oh well, I digress.
She grasped his tool with both hands and slowly lowered herself onto him. She then put her hands on his shoulders and starting rocking her hips back and forth. The couple had the attention of just about everyone there. Within only a few seconds the woman's massive hips were moving so violently and so fast that wondered if the bed might not collapse beneath them. Then she began screaming loudly. "Oh yeah!…fuck me Bill, fuck me harder!"
This I found a little amusing. For as big as she was and the way she rode him, holding his shoulders down, I doubted that the little fellow could move at all. They continued this way for a while. There was no mistaking when the woman hit her orgasms. She announced them so loudly, I'm sure people in eight counties could hear her. A short while later she collapsed on top of him totally spent. Both appeared happy and content. After a moment, they got up and walked smiling, hand in hard to the rest room area where the club had several shower rooms available.
As I sat there thinking about various things starting 'zone out' I was struck in the head with a small wadded up piece of paper. I picked it up and looked to see where it came from. I saw Jeannie near the other end of the bar trying to make eye contact with me. I smiled at her and she returned the smile nodding her head toward the door. I turned, looked and nearly burst out laughing. Fortunately, I quickly regained my composure.
There at the door stood two rather large identically dressed men. Both were wearing red leather chaps over red leather thongs and red leather vests buttoned up. They even wore red sandals and matching red collars with brass nameplates. One chap looked to be Italian, his body covered in thick coarse hair. About my height but, built like a fireplug. The other…well, let's just say he made the female, future Green Bay Hall of Famer I'd seen a bit ago look like a dwarf. I estimated he was at or perhaps just under seven feet in height, or so and looked like a mountain. Four hundred plus pounds if he was an ounce. Solid…there did not appear to be any fat on him.
They started to move across the floor, then I saw her following them. The woman was stunningly beautiful! I stared. It is not often when I see a woman that captures my attention as this one did. She was not tall, though it was hard to tell with the high-heeled boots she wore. I watched as they went to far side of seating section. They approached a small booth, the larger of her "escorts" moved the table aside she sat delicately. Mongo, as I decided to call him, put the table back and both the men knelt on the floor near her on either side.
Mentally, I was screaming at myself to stop staring but I couldn't. My eyes took in everything. She was a virtual twin to Renee Jones, An actress in a soap opera I used to watch long ago (And yes, I really used to watch one soap opera regularly). Her skin was the color of cocoa, smooth and very touchable. She had soft dark eyes and very high cheekbones. I was in lust! Not love, but lust, I really wanted her. I had trouble trying to figure out what it was that she was wearing. From where I sat, it looked like nothing more than a bunch of belts or something spaced out starting at her neck and going down to a bit short of mid-thigh. All her clothing looked to be made of the same red leather, as were outfits of the men with her. Her boots came up nearly to the bottom of the dress or whatever it was she was wearing. The very long stiletto heels looked like they would be hard for the average woman walk in, but this one managed as if born to it.
But something about her wasn't quite right. She was a real physical beauty…there was no doubt of that, but something was amiss. I wasn't quite sure yet what it was, but….
About this time, Jeannie chimed in "See? I toldja Mr. Gabe. She is very, very hot!"
I turned back to the bar glanced at Jeannie who was looking like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. "You're right, she is that! Now I can see why you would go gay for her."
She looked at me in mock horror "Gay Mr. Gabe? Me? Never! Bi? For her maybe but, I love cock way too much to go lesbo Mr. Gabe."
"Yes Mr. Gabe." Another voice broke in, mildly sarcastic.
I knew without turning my head that it was Malinda, the resident call girl. She and Jeannie were not the best of friends. It was a long running feud between them. No one knows why or how it started. They were mostly civil to one another but I would not to be around if they were shut alone in a room together.
Malinda was in fact an actual high dollar 'working girl'. She had never been busted to anyone's knowledge but, you know the old saying about it's not who you know but who you….. The local law enforcement types always seemed to turn a blind eye from her activities. I had been told once that she would do anyone, anywhere, anytime but never, ever for less than a thousand dollars. Or, as I like to say, way out of my price range. She is though, a real beauty. Average height, fiery red hair and emerald green eyes. She was certainly something to look at. There was to the best of my knowledge never a shortage of clients. She was also the consummate tease and flirt.
Lately, over the last couple of months I had been the target for her flirtations. I didn't know what that was all about and was sure I didn't want to know. She had, several times recently, offered herself to me at no charge. Joking, I was sure.
I looked her over carefully because I knew she loved being looked at. Might as well be nice, I thought. Malinda was wearing black pumps with sheer black stockings. There were long silk gloves on her hands going up almost to her elbows. She also had on a black fur coat of some kind. I assumed it was real. It was open in the front down almost to her navel and there didn't appear to be anything underneath it. Then, as though she wanted to confirm my suspicions, she unbuttoned and opened it for a brief moment showing that, she in fact, wore nothing under it. Her body was that of a goddess. Large natural breasts and like many women these days, she was clean-shaven. "You know Gabe, that offer of a freebee is still open if you want. Anytime, anyplace. Just let me know when…okay?"
I was briefly surprised as I'd never known her the 'flash' her nude body to anyone ever before, even a prospective client. Nonetheless, I grinned and said, "I'll have to pass on that Darlin'. I'm deeply afraid I just might like it way too much and be forced to break poor little Jeannie's heart."
Jeannie burst out laughing and Malinda scowled at me. She leaned in close and whispered "Believe it or not. I am actually quite serious about that offer." She smiled at me sweetly, frowned at Jeannie and turned to leave.
I was about to respond when something poked painfully at the back of my right shoulder.
I spun around rapidly expecting danger or some kind of confrontation and came face to face…..Well, actually face to chest with 'Mongo'. He slowly stepped back, crossed his huge arms across his chest and slipped into the 'tough guy' pose. The name on his collar was Robert
He peered down at me and in a voice that sounded, as though it came from the bottom of Mt St Helens said, "The Mistress commands you to come to her table."
I stared and the giant for moment. "You're kidding, right?" I said, my anger immediately forgotten as the beginning of a plan was forming in my head. It had come to me what the problem with this new mistress was. She was trying too hard to look dominate. I looked at Robert again and said
"First" I paused, holding up one finger "You got a pretty good look at me as you came up here, didn't you?" He nodded. And, I'm fairly certain that you could tell by the way I'm dressed that I ride a motorcycle, right?" He nodded again saying nothing. "And!" I held up another finger. "Anyone with more than a very few active brain cells could tell by the colors on the back of my vest that I'm a member of an M/C, am I right again, Robert?"
"I don't see what that's got to do…." He started to speak but I stopped that with a gesture. I was a little surprised that he did shut up. I supposed if he wanted to, he could have squashed me like a bug. He looked down at me and I went on.
"My first point is that if I'd been a member of an 'outlaw' club and I know that you know what I mean, the coroner would more than likely be on his way over here right now to pick up your body. You have to be careful when dealing with bikers. Got it?"
"Yes sir." He mumbled, surprisingly and suddenly cowed.
I looked around him seeing the woman seated at her table, sipping her drink and looking about as if no one else in the room mattered and she should be the center of attention. She saw me looking at her and quickly turned away.
I held up a third finger "next…You may go tell your so called mistress that if she'd like me to join her at her table, she needs to pick up her lazy ass, carry it over here and politely invite me herself."
"Sir, I could never say that to Mistress Latisha! I just couldn't." He genuinely looked very worried.
"Why not." I asked looking at him in mock disbelief.
"Well sir, she's my mistress and I must obey her."
"And how long has she been your mistress?"
"Not even a week yet. I only recently discovered my submissive nature sir." Robert said.
"Then perhaps you should find another mistress. Now go tell her what I said."
"Look at it this way, you didn't say it, I did. You're just relaying a message from me. Go tell her what I said, word for word. Now!"
He started to turn to go but I stopped him, held up a fourth finger "one more thing. If you ever come up behind me and poke me like that again, I will fuck…you….up! I'm not talking about small cuts, bruises or abrasions. I'm talking about blood, major injuries, hospitalization, and possible surgery. Understand?"
He looked down at me. For an instant, I was worried he might call my bluff, but then he just nodded. "Yes sir." he said and left.
I turned back to the bar and found Jeannie and Malinda still there starring at me. Jeannie had a very strange look on her face At least it was one I'd never seen before. "Wow! Color me impressed Mr. Gabe" She stared a moment longer, winked at me and went back to work.
Malinda was smiling sweetly at me. "Yeah, me too. You handled that rather well." She lightly grasped my shoulders and leaned in kissing my cheek. "And now you have another new problem. It seems that our little Miss Jeannie suddenly has the hots for you." She leaned in again and kissed my other cheek.
"Jeannie? The hots for me? Get real Malinda. I happen to know she has a boyfriend. And, I'm relatively sure that I'm much too old to suit what she looks for in a man. Shit Malinda, I'm old enough to be her father."
"You'll have to trust me on this Gabe. A woman knows these things." She stepped in a bit closer. "Now, about that offer." She said in a sultry voice, "I promise you won't be sorry."
"Two questions, Malinda. Why and why me?" I stated, "I must admit this is making a wee bit nervous. And very little makes me nervous. I mean look at you. You are a very desirable woman. You demand a high price and get it and I'm sure you are worth every penny! Me? I am just a poor old scooter tramp. So again, I ask. Why and why me?"
She leaned in closer still and lightly kissed me on the lips. "The answer to both your questions is really rather simple. Why? You know what I do. It's not as easy as you might think. Yes, I do demand a high price and I get it. My clients pay me well because…well, because I'm good. The problem is that they end up expecting perfection, wanting almost more than I can give. They want the wildest night of sex they can imagine. And they expect me to be the best piece of ass on the planet, if I may speak plainly. And I always feel obligated to perform. Just once, I want to go to bed with a man and simply relax and enjoy the sex. Gabe, make no mistake, unlike many of my colleagues, I really do love and enjoy sex…more than you can know."
"As for why you? Two things really. First, I've always found you interesting and thought you were handsome, especially in your biker clothing and the other is… Well let me just say I've become more than a little interested in your lifestyle, you know, the bondage and discipline thing."
I thought about what she had said. It was then that I realized that she was actually very serious about the offer of free sex she made to me. I was still a little unsure, remembering the old saying about something seeming too good to be true….
"I tell you what," I said pulling one of my business cards from my vest. "Call me one day later this week and we can get together for lunch or coffee or something and talk about this seriously if you like. Is that acceptable to you?"