by Jillian Rose
He just so happened to be the man who liked the services these women offered, so in the end everyone went home happy. He tried to make himself forget about Miss Crimson until the session was over with, and try and enjoy himself until then. Being a detective in this goddamn city was grim work, and his ultimate release besides a fifth of Johnny Walker was getting degraded, orgasming while feeling one inch tall, getting his rocks off with a double shot of shame. He didn’t know why he was like that. He was not submissive in every other aspect of his life, so why he felt a desire to inflict himself with pain and demoralization was beyond him. He just rolled with it. It was a better choice then crack, right?
The heavy clomp of platform boots causes him to raise his head. A voluptuous redhead stood before him, her pale no doubt silky smooth skin was pulled taught by a spandex one piece suit that had a deep V, revealing oiled cleavage, her chest a colorful bloom of tattoos. He could tell her tough girl act faltered just a bit when she saw the beefy bear of a man sitting before her.
“Jesus Christ hunk, you sure you in the right place?” She said, a bit of Jersey smear in her voice. She took a step back at the site of him. Henderson laughed, his strong jaw flexing just a bit as he smiled.
“Yes. I know I’m not like your usual clientele. Don’t worry, I’ll be a good dog.” He says. She sizes him up, eyeing the 6’5 heavy built man with close cropped brown hair and intense hazel eyes like a dog eyeing a suspicious piece of meat. After a moment, she nods.
“Alright. You try anything stupid and we got two body guards on the premises who could pick you up and eat you. Literally” She says. Henderson nods, puts his hands up.
“I believe you. Just tell me what to do miss.” He says. She walks over to him, the cane in her hand suddenly under his chin. Back in character in a flash, these people were good.
“I wanna what sort of baby dick you got tucked away down there. You strip, now.” She said.
“Right here? I—” but the cane was up, levelled at his crotch.
“You speak when spoken to. Yes now. What, are you embarrassed? Afraid someone’s gonna see that teeny tiny cock? If those clothes aren’t on the floor in thirty seconds I’ll be very mad. You don’t wanna make me mad.” She hissed. Henderson complied. He had on a freshly starched work shirt and black suspenders, and he took these off, along with his plaid briefs and wing tip shoes. A hairy, muscular body with a little bit of a beer gut was illuminated like some sort of strange purple alien in the black lights. He saw the way the woman looked at what hung between his legs, her eyes widening. “Jesus you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” She said, taking hold of the thick veiny member and appraising it.
She pulled on his cock, hard, causing him to stumble forward a few steps. She bent down, still grasping his manhood, and tucked his clothes under one arm, grasping the shoes with her hand.
“Come with me.” She said, grasping his cock painfully tight, using it like a handle as she led him down a dark hallway with several open doors. He walked past the first one and saw an obese man tied down to a chair, a plastic bag on his head with a small breath hole cut out of it. A pair of busty young women in leather corset’s and spandex where whipping his belly, calling him a human blob, a disgusting pig. Henderson could see the man’s small nub of a cock poking up from a pair of swollen balls.
“Eye’s forward!” She yells, and slaps him across the face. Stunned, Henderson obeys, resisting the urge to look in on these men and watch them embark on their own shameful journeys. He comes to a door at the end of the hall, and is led by his throbbing cock through the doorway.
Chapter 2.
The room is small, the walls and floor painted a flat matte black, with a strange black chair that reminds Henderson of something you’d see in a gynecologists office. The dominatrix points and orders him to sit in the chair. She drops his clothes in the corner, going over to the large black chest that Henderson didn’t notice. It’s nearly invisible, blended into the wall as it was the same color as everything else. A large neon clock that looked like something from a cheesy eighties scifi movie said it was 5 minutes past 11. He paid for an hour, it was all he could afford. At least she was punctual.
First she brought out some thick twined rope, and proceeded to tie his hands to the arm rests, pulling tight enough to hurt as she tied the ropes off. The next thing she pulled out of the chest was a thick metal cock ring with an opening about the size of his wrist. She spit in the palm of her latex gloved hand and proceeded to lubricate the ring with it. Then she walked over, and took his balls in one hand.
“The safe word is Fragile.” Was the only warning she gave before the thick hairy scrotum received a firm squeeze, proceeding to cram his throbbing balls into the ring one testicle at a time until his sack was pulled taught. He gasped and grunted with exciting pain as she did this. His cock was now fully erect, increasing the strain on his poor balls. She looked at his cock with amazement. “You know, most of my clients don’t get to ever see what my pussy feels like, but then you had to go and surprise me with this monster third leg of yours. Today is your lucky day you god damn cave man. Jesus, this will be my first time fucking a Neanderthal.” She said, and proceeded to hit a switch next to the chair. The chair Henderson was in began to recline until he no longer sat up right but lay parallel to the floor.
“Do you like the taste of pussy you hairy mongoloid?” She asked.
“Yes.” Henderson breathed. The muscles on his body bulged as he tensed, enduring the pain.
“Good, you didn’t really have a say in the matter. Now stick that fucking tongue out.” She said and hauled one leg over his head until she had mounted his face like a saddle. Her rubber suit was assless and there was a hole in the crotch where two plump pink lips protruded. Henderson did as he was told, sticking his tongue out. He felt the tip part her hot moist folds, slide along the sides of his tongue until he felt the little fleshy nub of her clitoris bump against his tip. She moaned, gripping his hair roughly in both hands, then slapping his cheek, hard.
She began to thrust methodically, grinding her pussy against his tongue with a steady rhythm. His moans were muffled as his cock was rock hard and throbbing now, his balls starting to turn purple, the veins standing out against his skin. She thrusted faster, his tongue going raw from all the intense friction, until finally she came to a quivering stop, pulling his hair hard enough to make his eyes water.
“Good dog.” She said, and proceeded to shove herself down to where his crotch was, straddling him. He grunted with satisfied pain as she pushed herself against his cock, pressing the stiff member against his stomach until his tip was aimed at his head. He strained hard against her, just the way she wanted him too. She began to slide her wet lips against the thick vein of his urethra, starting at the base, squishing the balls and cock ring with her ass and slowly sliding up until she came to the flaired tip of his cock, and then sliding back, sliding along his base like a stripper on a pole.
She did this for an eternity, until Henderson thought he was going to go crazy. She smiled at his obvious agonized ecstasy.
“Poor thing, you must be ready to explode huh?” she asked in a pitiful baby voice.
“Yes.” He said, his face sweaty and red, the veins standing out in his neck.
“You paid extra, so I guess I could give you your money’s worth, huh?” She said, and slid up again, this time going past his tip and letting up so his cock could spring back to it’s natural position. She thrust herself down before that could happen, her hot moist lips catching him as he entered her. They both gasped as hot silken walls pulled against his cock, which had already been dribbling pre-ejaculate for the last ten minutes.
For about ten seconds she didn’t move, holding him firmly but denying him the orgasm he almost had just then. When she was sure he’d backed off the trigger just a bit, she began to ride him, slowly, while smacking him in the face. At one point she pulled his mouth open and spat in it, forcing him to swallow it, all the while slowly gyratin
g her hips, causing him to move in and out of that hot velvet channel that gripped him like a fist.
Soon however she began to speed up her thrusts, getting delicious penetration pleasure as she felt areas deep inside of her being stimulated by the monster eight inch dick. Normally the men who paid to fuck her were the size of her pinky and got off in ten seconds.
“I don’t mean to stoke your ego but I’ve never been with someone as big as you.” She said, breaking character as she began to approach orgasm herself. “Jesus fuck that hit’s the goddamn spot.” She said, thrusting faster while rubbing her clit furiously with a latex gloved hand. A few thrusts later Henderson’s whole body seized up and he screamed as his cock gave one powerful throb, his swollen testicles pulsating against the ring as he began to explode deep inside of her. “Holy fuck!” She screamed, coming with him as the hot jet of semen that slammed against her pulverized cervix initiated an intense orgasm.
Henderson almost passed out as the hot velvet walls tightened around his cock as she came, the second and third bursts from him filling her completely until thick white fluid began to drool from her lips and drip down his ringed balls. They gasped and panted in time until finally she came to a stop, pressed hard against him and slamming her cheeks against his scrotum, milking him with one final excruciating burst, every contraction bringing with it agony and ecstasy as he pumped his final expenditure balls deep into a cavern already flooded with his ejaculate.
Slowly she dismounted from him, gasping as a small stream erupted from her pussy, splashing against the leather chair as she exited him. She pulled up just a bit, and her body tensed as she pushed out what felt like a gallon of the man’s seed, letting the puddle soak into his pubic hair. There was a metallic clang as the ring fell to the floor, his shriveled balls finally sliding through the opening. Henderson collapsed against the chair, panting heavily, his cock laying like a dead viper against his thigh, his aching balls throbbing in time with his heart beat.
“You know you only got to blow inside of me because you paid four hundred extra. Next time it’ll be five hundred. Gotta get an STD test and some plan B now.” She said, annoyed but also a little giggly. He assumed she didn’t get off much on the job, judging by the looks of the clientele that frequented her. She went to clean up, leaving Henderson tied up naked as she went to some other part of the building to rinse off.
When she came back, she glared at him, and then the huge neon clock. It was 11:55.
“You got five minutes left. Unless you think you can shoot your squirt again in the next five minutes I consider us done.” She said, untying Henderson and tossing him his clothes. She was out of character now, lighting up a cigarette and staring off in the distance, pretending like she didn’t just receive a cream pie from a stranger.
“Can I ask you something?” He said as he slipped his suspenders on, palming his back pocket to make sure the badge and his wallet were still present. They were.
“Oh Jesus, don’t tell me you wanna ask me out on a date. The answer is no.” She said, exhausted. Henderson smirked.
“Nah, not that. You ever hear of another dominatrix, one called Miss Crimson?” He implored. She had been tapping her platformed foot against the floor as she smoked, and stopped as soon as the name left his lips. She looked at him with an unreadable expression.
“Miss Crimson? Where’d you hear about her?” She asked, her eyes narrowing. Henderson shrugged.
“Does it matter? I hear she’s a specialty dame. Does things most of you girls wouldn’t even consider. Charges a pretty penny too. She has my interest.” Henderson said, trying to sound casual even though his heart was racing. The last time he mentioned Miss Crimson’s name in a place like this, things got messy.
“It does matter. Not a lot of people know about Miss Crimson and she wants it that way. Sorry Charly but the queen isn’t gonna tangle with the likes of you, even if you threw your whole 401k at her. You gotta be somebody to be with her. She wouldn’t even look twice at a hairy schmuck like you.” The dominatrix said. Henderson chuckled and nodded.
“It ever occur to you that I might be somebody? I’d assume someone of importance wouldn’t just wanna go around telling people he or she is into the whips and chains shit for the hell of it.” Henderson said, feeling the badge in his back pocket, hoping he wouldn’t have to flash it. He knew most of these joints operated in a gray area, and that the dominatrixes usually had a landlord they paid to keep their operations running. Said landlord more than likely had some kind of side gig running on the side to keep the lights on. In Henderson’s experience that side gig was usually illegal and involved trafficking, usually of drugs, sometimes humans. The woman laughed, and eyed him like he was a sun dried dog turd.
“You aint nobody mister. I recognize big wigs when I see one. You’re probably what, a public attorney? An accountant? You got some okay threads, but you carry yourself like a peasant. You gotta be fuckin ruthless to be someone in this city honey.” She said, and that’s when Henderson sighed, made the call in his head, and pulled out his badge.
“You better watch your tone, honey. I can be fuckin ruthless if I need to be. And right now I’m looking for the one called Miss Crimson.” He said, and her jaw dropped when she saw the badge.
“You’re a fuckin cop? What the hell, they vet all the clients, how in the hell did you…”
“A VPN and a fake social. Come on honey, get with the times, or hire a better concierge to book your appointments. So, now that we know you offer more than just a little slap and tickle, you’ll go the whole nine yards… making this prostitution, why don’t you tell me more about this woman who all of you seem so scared of, and I’ll walk away forgetting this place even existed.” He said. This was his fourth time in the ringer with one of these vixens, and their reactions were all the same when that moniker was mentioned.
“Why do you wanna know asshole? We’re all just trying to make a living out here. My job is to pleasure pathetic men like you. Your job is to shoot dogs and profile black people when you aren’t jerking each other off in the donut shop. Why don’t we keep it that way?” She asked, a small bit of desperation in her voice. Henderson laughed. He liked this girl, she had balls bigger than his to be talking to a detective like that.
“Because, this girl is wanted for the murder of a NYPD detective. Under cover cop who went into her little primordial fuck hole and never came back out. I’ve asked around. No one seems to wanna spill the beans on her.”
“Yeah? Well there’s a reason for that. Crimson is free agent, she don’t report to nobody. Aint got no dick skimming thirty percent off the top and threatening extortion when we don’t play ball. She’s something else. I don’t know who she is or where she’s located. Just word of mouth in the leather communities. She’s famous for serving some household names in her dungeon.” She said.
“Leather community? Dungeon? You’re gonna have to elaborate for me sweetheart.” Henderson said.
“Look you wanna find out more go down to Kink Incorporated, it’s off of 31st and Wilson. That’s where we all go to get our props. Chances are she’s been there. That’s all I’m sayin’. Ronnie!” She shouted. Henderson withdrew a pair of cuffs.
“Listen sugar, you’ve been helpful but not enough. I know you’re hiding something. I get your scared. She got a mob connection or something? She stompin some wise guy’s balls in exchange for protection? Work with me, swee—”
“RONNIE GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!” She screamed this time. Henderson winced, took another step closer when he heard heavy foot falls coming down the hallway. He smelled the body guard before seeing him, a wave of Versace cologne washing over him like a physical thing. A moment later a huge man filled the doorway, with spray tanned skin, slicked back black hair and biceps the size of Henderson’s head. The big brute hesitated only a moment when he saw the badge, before he swung one of those huge tree trunk arms towards Henderson’s head.
He ducked, and the orange fist flew inches away from the domi
natrix’s face.
“Jesus fuckin watch out!” she cried as the big man stumbled from the lost momentum. Henderson immediately threw a right cross into the man’s kidney just as a big veiny hand grabbed at his head and shoved it against the wall. The cheap drywall sunk in as Henderson’s head made contact with it, leaving a cast impression of the side of his skull. He immediately rebounded and side stepped, knowing exactly how to handle these types. He knew this man pumped heavy loads of iron in his spare time and probably hadn’t been in a scrap since high school. He relied on the intimidating size to scare most schmucks into submission. Henderson was not most schmucks.
Despite Henderson’s own hulking size he moved quick and light on his feet, growing up in the streets of Brooklyn fighting fast and loose with the wannabe barrio gangs taught him how to float like a butter fly and sting like a bee. Ronnie didn’t know how to hide his intentions with his moves, and Henderson saw the haymaker coming from his left long before the big fist could make contact with his head. The man’s own inertia betrayed him and he stumbled as the massive limb struck at open hair. Henderson popped up a moment later and sunk two knuckles into the man’s wind pipe.
Ronnie gasped, grabbing at his throat while kicking out, a size thirteen Gucci loafer catching Henderson in his bad hip before the detective grabbed the thick leg and used the little bit of Judo he knew to get the big man on his ass.
“TONY! TONY!” The woman started screaming.
“You’ll be hearing from me again.” Henderson breathed as he limped out of the room, trying to run but his hip screaming as he raced towards the door. Luckily whoever Tony was proved not to be light on his feet, as Henderson exploded out into the cold night without spray tanned hands reaching for him, immediately making his way down the sidewalk towards his unmarked cruiser parked a few blocks away. Halfway there he remembered he’d forgotten his coat, muttering “shit” as trembling hands unlocked the Crown Vic.
