First Visit to a Haitian Bondage Club

She cringed at his comment, her pleasure. Did he know or was it just a comment? She began to stammer, out of place for her, unable to say what she wanted, too embarrassed.

“Don’t be embarrassed Lyn. I am here to show what you would like to see and I am well-versed in the many alternatives available. We have many places that are very sophisticated, not seedy little sex shows, but with people that believe in and are part of their life styles, more then willing to show others.

She looked into his eyes, seeing an understanding that she didn’t expect. She cleared her throat. “I would like to go to a bondage club.” Her eyes went down, not wanting to see his expression, her face red in shame.

It was almost what he had expected from her. Powerful women lived such an intense lifestyle, always having to be in control or masterful of the situation. Many sought the relief of being submissive to a male, bondage the ultimate submission. The relief of having all choice taken away from them bringing about complete surrender and ultimately intense orgasms. “A very good choice, Lyn. I know of a club outside town. It is an exclusive club, not open to the public. It is very private, by invitation only to the elite. Let me make a phone call and see if I can get us an invitation. Have another drink while I go make the call,” nodding to the bartender for another drink, taking a sip of the shot of rum he had in front of him.

She finally looked up, a smile on her face as he didn’t even look as though he was disturbed by her request as being too perverse. He seemed to take it as something normal. “Have you ever been there?”

“Numerous times for business and also for pleasure.” He nodded to her, hoping to make her more comfortable. “They are not professionals, but normal people that have made bondage a part of the sexual lifestyle. It is laid out very extensively, with a wide range of bondage toys and equipment. Anyone is welcome to join in at any time and many do. I think you will find it very enjoyable if this is your first time. Very enjoyable.” He got up from the stool, leaving her without waiting for an answer or a response. He made a quick phone call, able to easily get an invitation, especially after he described Lyn. They were always hoping that guests would decide to join in or volunteer. 

“We can go now Lyn.” He paid for the drinks; all expenses would be added to Lyn’s bill later on, Miguel not having to worry about the business side, which would be what his wife did best. He escorted her outside, a black stretch limousine waiting for them, Lyn a little surprised, half expecting a taxi ride. She got in first, knowing that he was watching her ass as she bent over to get in, sliding across to sit on the other side, her short skirt barely covering anything as she sat down.

Miguel was pleased when he saw the garter belt she was wearing, her skirt not leaving much to the imagination. Not many women wore them any longer, Miguel finding them extremely sexy, the swish of silk making his cock jerk in pleasure. She sat across from him for the short ride out to the club, Miguel making small talk, Lyn getting more comfortable about where they were going. The limousine stopped, the driver opening the door, Miguel wanting to watch Lyn get out of the limousine.

She knew he was watching her, making sure that she bent over even deeper then she had to, feeling the cool air ride up the back of her legs, knowing she was probably flashing him a glimpse of her panty-covered pussy from behind, almost wagging her ass in his face. She still knew how to control men.

Miguel slipped a wad of bills to the cashier inside, the door opening to a large room, the lights slightly dimmed. It wasn’t like a club; there were no tables, just groups of upholstered chairs, a table between them and a low table at their feet. Groups of chairs were spread semi-circle around a raised stage in the center, Lyn’s eyes trying to take it all in at the same time. In one corner, it looked like a jail cell, complete with a locking door and cot. Various pieces of furniture were scattered around the stage, all with the express purpose of holding a female secure and open. There was a pillory, holes for the neck and wrists, the victim forced to bend over, more holes in a board on the floor to secure ankles, legs spread widely apart. Various metal frames and leather horses were bolted to the floor, all with leather straps spaced evenly around them, each adjustable to put the victim in the appropriate provocative position. Ropes and chains extended from the ceiling; spread bars on the floor, open, ready for the victim limbs. Lyn felt her pussy get wet at the sight.

“Is it what you thought it would be?” They sat down, Miguel watching Lyn’s eyes trying to take in all that was about.

“I never imagined,” was the only thing she could stay. A young girl came over to the table, a tray in her hand. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Miguel spoke to her in French, the girl nodding. She pulled a pair of gleaming gold handcuffs out of her pocket, handing them to Miguel.

“Thank you.” She left to get their drinks, Miguel seeing Lyn staring at the handcuffs.

“What are those for?” She was almost afraid to ask. More afraid of the answer.

“All the female guests in the club must wear them. It is a rule that cannot be broken. It helps keep the mood in the club.” He snapped them open.

“They aren’t real, are they?” They must be just props, used to set the stage.

“Genuine police issue, all except the gold plating. Exclusive for the club, nothing is too good for the female guests. Hold out your hands.”

Lyn hesitated, not sure if he was joking or serious. He didn’t move or make any effort to force her. He just waited for her. She looked around the room, a scattering of people around the chairs, about twenty or so. Most of the men were older, fifties and sixties, the girls were in their twenties and thirties. She looked; all of their wrists were secured in handcuffs, the girls adept at drinking and doing everything else with them on. She held out her wrists together in front of her, taking a deep breath as she felt the cold steel slap on her wrists, the ratcheting of the cuffs as Miguel tightened them. She pulled on her wrists, the metal chain linking them rattling, the cuffs holding firmly. God, she wished she could stick her hands in her panties and make herself cum.

“That’s very good Lyn. You learn well.” 

The girl brought over the drinks, this one a little different, still made mainly with rum, but the aftertaste was different, something she couldn’t identify. Miguel had his usual shot of rum. She felt it burning as it went down, a little awkward at drinking with her hands cuffed together. 

The lights above the stage were turned on, a man and a woman suddenly bathed in the bright lights. The girl was about twenty-five, long black hair, dark brown skin that was highlighted by the brief white panties and bra she wore. Her arms were strung up high over her head, the golden handcuffs clipped to a hook hanging down from the ceiling. The hum of a motor could be heard, the girl’s body stretching up high as her arms were pulled higher and higher until she was perched on her toes, balancing precariously, swinging back and forth when she lost her balance. The man next to her was older, at least fifty, maybe more. He was dressed impeccably, a slim figure for a man his age. He was Haitian, his skin black, sharply contrasting the girl hanging before him. The girl had a certain frightened look on her face, someone that had not been in this position before.

“She is new here, one of the local girls that the man had taken a liking to. He is a Judge, a very powerful man in the province. He has a liking for young girls and most girls would be foolish to resist his advances. She could find herself before him in the court, sentenced to perform for him in one of the prison cells instead of here, the Judge making her available to the guards after he had finished with her.” He looked over at Lyn, seeing her squirming slightly in the chair as her eyes were glued to the spectacle before her.

The Judge spun the girl around, his hands taking liberties with her body as he did, grasping at her breasts, his hands on her hips and ass as he spun her around. He stopped her once, his hand slipping between her legs from behind to grip her sex, the girl letting her legs bow out slightly, still trying to balance on her toes. Lyn could see her hips begin to move back and forth, the Judge’s fingers busy, sliding between her lips to saw back and forth, masturbating the bound girl before the audience.

The Judge slowly stripped the girl, her face turning red in shame as she was slowly stripped naked before the audience, the spotlight playing up and down her body, showing her most intimate charms in the harsh light. When completely naked, more ropes were pulled down from the ceiling, one leg tied tightly at the ankle, the motor humming again as her leg was drawn up high, almost straight up until her sex was completely exposed.

Lyn put her hand in her lap, pressing down slightly, not even caring if Miguel saw her, her pussy wanting so badly to cum. She looked over, Miguel staring at her.

“Is your pussy wet Lyn?”

“Yes,” her hand pressing in deeper, Miguel already knowing what she was doing.

“Remove your hands at once,” he ordered her. “You are not permitted to cum yet,” he said very matter-of-factly, as if he had made her stop doing this countless times before. He looked into her eyes.

Did she dare defy him? His stare was intense, almost as if he was able to control her mind. She moved her hands away, squeezing her thighs together, anything to increase the pleasure between her legs.

“good girl. Now lift up your skirt, above your waist.” He waited for her to comply.

She lifted up her ass from the chair, but not before looking around the room, seeing the man next to their chairs looking at her. “He’s watching.”

“Of course he is. You are a very beautiful girl. He would be stupid not to, especially when you are going to show him your panty covered pussy. Now raise up your skirt. I won‘t tell you again.” His voice became sterner.

She looked at Miguel, hoping the ignore the man next to them, lifting up her hips, sliding the tight fitting skirt up, hearing some of the threads in the seam breaking as she struggled to get it up. She finally got it to her waist, the material twisted. She looked down, her panties wet in the front, her thighs clenched tightly together.

“I love the garter belt and stockings Lyn. Do you always wear them?” Very few girls wore them nowadays even though they were the sexiest thing he could imagine a girl in, especially if her panties were off. They seemed to frame their pussy’spussies, drawing attention to their treasures.

“No, this is the first time.” She wasn’t even sure why she wore them. Did she secretly hope that she would be stripped like this?

“Spread your legs apart Lyn. Your pussy is too lovely to be clenched tightly together. I want your legs always spread, your pussy available.” He was very adamant in his command; this was the way it was to be.

She did as he said, her legs moving until they touched the edges of the chair. She looked down, her lips barely visible beneath the tight panties. Miguel seemed to be satisfied, his eyes now turned back to the stage.

The girl had a ball gag in her mouth now, her voice silenced. The Judge was working on her pussy. With one leg in the air, she was open, her lips parted, her pink pussy contrasting with her brown skin. She was dancing on one foot as the Judge spanked her pussy, his large hand sliding up from the floor to slap harshly on her sex, her muffled cries silenced by the ball gag. She must have received over twenty slaps before the Judge stopped. But it was only temporary, her ass receiving a spanking next. Her cheeks went from pink to red as the punishment continued, over forty slaps until the Judge began to concentrate on her asshole, the last ten hitting her unprotected hole, her body jerking back and forth with each blow.

“Have you ever been spanked before Lyn? Sexually spanked to make your pussy wet?” He knew the answer.

She shook her head no, looking at him, afraid of what he was contemplating.