Fleur III: Suffer Club

It was a little past midnight when Fleur entered the small, nondescript nightclub situated under a large boxing hall and Asian market, both of which flooded the narrow cobblestone street with their bright neon lights. The den was easy to find if you knew where to go, but hidden from the world for everyone who had no business there. There was hardly any sign, any indication of was going on just below the surface of this old industrial site at the edge of town, apart from the muffled punches of the bass and drums of the music escaping to the surface.

Fleur had come to a large door two floors below street level, where she was met by a broad-shouldered doorman sporting silver aviator sunglass after she banged the lion head door knocker five times. Three quick taps in succession followed by two slower ones, just like she'd been told. The guy opened the dark green door just enough to poke his head out and gazed at the big-eyed blonde in front of him. Before she even had time to say anything, he lit his flashlight and blinded Fleur with its light.

"Whoa, that's some bright shit," she laughed, but the guy wasn't interested in small talk. He moved his light beam from her head to her feet and back up again, carefully checking her out.

She was dressed to kill, wearing simple stiletto heels and a tight black leather jacket dress with a zipper along the front. It accentuated her curves very well and was exactly long enough to show off all of her magnificent thighs without revealing more than a slight sliver of her buttocks. The dress had high padded shoulders with a series of metal studded straps that ran from her upper arms to her high neck collar for decoration. The long sleeves covered her arms and part of her hands. Her long blonde hair was down for the occasion and Fleur wore simple yet elegant make-up. She didn't need anything special to stand out.

"Yeah?" the doorman asked, while keeping the bright light fixed on the girl's face.

"I have business with Erin, she's expecting me," Fleur stated.

"Oh, is that so? Did you read about Underhill?"

"It is one thing to read about dragons and another to meet them," she replied.

The doorman stepped back and opened the door wide enough to let Fleur into the small hallway behind it. The music was louder inside. He put away his flashlight on his belt and fell back down in his worn-down yellow leather armchair, which looked like it was shaped just to accommodate him and only him. He picked up his already burning cigar from the ashtray on a small table next to him and took a drag before activating his cell phone.

"Name?" he wanted to know as he speed-dialed.

"Fleur," she replied. "Here to see..."

She was cut short by him speaking to someone at the other end of the line. The call was over in seconds. The doorman put his phone down and pointed at a glitter string curtain that marked the entrance to one of two narrow hallways leading away from this less-than-inviting back entrance to the club.

"Up the stairs at the end," he barked. "Then go to the red booth."

"Thanks," Fleur muttered while the guy already stopped paying attention to her. She parted the glitter strings and entered the small and dark hallway, which was only lit by dim light that came through dark tinted windows along the left-hand wall. The windows gave her a pretty good look at what was happening on the other side and she could see that the place was busy, but far from packed.

No one paid attention to her moving through the hallway as she passed several booths with people drinking, chatting, making out or watching the proceedings on a stage on the far side of the room. There seemed to be no dress code. Men, women and everything in between wore whatever they wanted from business suits to leather harnesses or simply nothing.

At the third booth a naked girl was pressed against the glass getting fucked from behind by a man while another girl filmed her with a cell phone. The man held the left side of her face against the glass and pressed her up high, so her clamped nipples rubbed against the glass while he rhythmically fucked her. Fleur stopped for a second and looked the girl straight into her eyes, but she didn't respond or give any sign that she saw Fleur, even when she waved right in front of her face.
The next booth was empty, which gave Fleur a much better view of the stage on the far side of the room. It looked like some kind of sex show was underway with a naked but hooded girl servicing half a dozen or so men in military uniforms.

Fleur passed several more booths until she got to the stairs the doorman had mentioned. They spiraled up and ended at a glass door, which she opened. The partial muffle on the music was gone and Fleur found herself on a balcony of sorts, overlooking the main hall of the club. Here too were several booths with a view of the stage. The occupants of the first were a little surprised at her entrance, looking up for more than a few seconds before they continued their activity right in front of Fleur's face. Three women in shiny dominatrix attire had a lean and muscular naked guy kneeling on top of the table in between them with his hands tied behind his back. He wore a serving tray in front of him, which was secured to his toned abdomen and had two chains running up to his pierced nipples to support it. A bottle of champagne stood proudly between the two chains.

Fleur quickly looked down, under the tray, to find that the mistresses were very much into heavy CBT. They guy had an impressive semi-erect cock, half of which was covered by a leather sleeve. The other half was exposed, including his large cock head which they were using as a pin cushion while they stretched his scrotum with a parachute and heavy weights.

The red booth that she was looking for was in the middle of the balcony. It could not be missed. The other ones were black and white and as Fleur made her way halfway up the balcony, she passed an empty booth that gave her another good look at the crowd and stage downstairs.

As she approached the red booth and the single red-headed woman sitting in it facing away from her, Fleur's eyes were drawn to the last booth in the row. Two naked girls were in a 69 on top of the table while four men in business suits played watersports with them. Both of the girls apparently had their assholes and mouths stretched open with speculums and ring gags and the men took turns emptying their bladders into the girl's open holes, while slapping and punching them hard in the face between turns.

"Hi there." The soft voice of the woman in the red booth sounded almost out of place. Fleur immediately looked to her right side and saw a pretty redhead looking up at her. "You must be Fleur."

The both of them reached out and they shook hands and introduced themselves. Erin invited Fleur to sit down and looked at her watch as the girl took her seat across the table.

"Right on time. I like that," Erin started the conversation. Fleur smiled and took a good look at the woman sitting in front of her. Erin was simply dressed in a black shirt and pants, her naturally bright red hair down, her bangs framing her freckled white face. She wore little to no makeup and looked like she was in her early thirties. Fleur thought she looked out of place in this underground bdsm establishment, but she quickly learned that this was another case of 'don't judge a book by its cover'.

"You may even look better in person than in the photos I've...," Erin started off. As she finished her sentence, one of the girls behind Fleur shrieked and started crying out loud. A quick glance over showed that one of the men had grabbed her by her breasts and lifted her off the table, only to throw her down on the floor next to the booth several seconds later.

"Don't they have rooms here to do that stuff?" Fleur wondered.

"They do. The ones you see out here are just exhibitionistic or trying to purposely shock you with their antics," Erin replied.

"Haha, okay."

"Although I don't know if they can really do that with you. The stuff I've seen you do isn't for the faint of heart. Elsa sent me quite the portfolio."

“Thank you.” Fleur smiled. ”I’m pretty proud of it.”

“As you should be. It entertained me tremendously. Please tell me why you are here.”

Erin sure knew how to immediately get to business, but Fleur was used to dealing with women like her and she started summarizing her goal.

“I’m working on my own web site venture and I want to create something unique, a highly stylized and high-class experience that combines and surpasses the best and most exciting parts of the things that got me into the stuff I’m into to begin with.”

“Which are?”

“All kinds of stuff that pushed the envelope. Growing up, I’d secretly google the most depraved sex videos and photos, all the while being frustrated at having no one to act them out with. Later, when I got to play with people who were serious about their S&M business, I got raised on HardSex, Pain Clinic and the likes. And I really enjoy current underground streams like Extreme Dolls and LTT.”

“LTT?” Erin wondered.

“LTT is Live Taboo Torture, a site from Eastern Europe where they play really hard. I did one live session with them; it should have been in my portfolio.”

“I’m sure it is. What made you look for something new if you enjoy what they do?”

“To be honest, what they do excites me a lot. I like the dangerous and unpredictable nature of their work, but Elsa strongly advises me not to work with them again. She said she was glad she got Mistress Marta to perform with me… she didn’t trust their people.”

“Oh, that was the session with Marta?” Erin replied. ”I’ve worked with her before. We used to live in the same city, she’s a doll. And a doctor, too!”

“Yeah, she was great to work with and I would love to play with her again in the future, but there’s stuff I want to do that she isn’t into. Anyway, I am looking to create my own subscription web site and I need some partners to start producing the content. Elsa is helping me out with finding people to work with. She understands I need to do some stuff on my own. And I don’t want to be fucked and lightly spanked and I don’t want to be just tortured without ever getting fucked. And I don’t want to take selfies or film me and my switch boyfriend with a camera on a tripod.”

Erin chuckled. “So, what is it you do want? In one sentence?”

“I just want to be wrecked by someone who will totally use me and who is preferably even more depraved than me.”

“I see. And your favorite activities? Let’s say, top three?”

“Definitely tit torture, hole pounding and degradation,” Fleur laughed and added: “preferably all at the same time.”

“Tit torture I understand,” Erin replied. I’ve seen your portfolio. But ‘hole pounding’ and ‘degradation’ are such broad terms. Can you be more specific?”

“Hole pounding is my phrase for having big cocks or dildos relentlessly fucking my ass, pussy and throat. And with degradation I mean stuff like my body being handled really roughly, being slapped in the face and stepped on, licking boots and floors, french kissing assholes, being pissed or spat on, used as an object, that kind of thing. I really hate the stereotypical view people have of blonde girls like me who take good care of their appearance. I want to shock people by being the ultimate extreme filthy pain slut on film instead of the princess-like diva they expect me to be.”

“Any fantasies you want to share of stuff you have on your bucket list?” Erin wanted to know.

“You’ve seen that I make a very willing subject to a sadistic surgeon, I would love to be in more of those type of scenes. Just me and a doctor or nurse in an old creepy hospital room with nothing but yellowed walls and floors and a wide range of medical instruments. Other than that, let’s see…”
Fleur paused for a moment and looked up to the ceiling of the club before continuing.

“Some kind of heavy torture scene that incorporates a full-on gang bang while someone plays very hard with me at the same time, something like that. Yeah, something like that, and maybe… ah, never mind.”

“Maybe what?”

“I don’t think it’s very relevant to what I’m here for.”

“Please do tell me anyway. I’m interested to hear more.”

“Okay, well, I’ve had these fantasies for a very long time now about locking myself in some kind of metal framework with several mechanical torture devices. One by one they start working their devious tortures on me and I have no way to stop them or slow them down. I will just have to suffer whatever it is they do until their program has run out.”

“That sounds kind of cool. I guess you have no idea that such toys do exist, but they do.”

“Really? I’ve been looking online but never found anything except for fantasy stories written by people with similar interests.”

“Let me send a message to one of my business partners here. He may be able to help you create some unique content in the way you just described.”

“Wow, really?”

“We call him the Toymaker, but his name is David. I’ve known him since I was a child. He used to go to school with my mother and has been a family friend for decades. He doesn’t live far from here and something tells me he may be interested in talking to you.”

“Does he also perform here at the club?” Fleur wanted to know.

“I'm not sure what Elsa or Marta have shown you about what we do here, so I have brought some examples myself. We've just transitioned ourselves from Pain 2.0 to Suffer Club, which is a new venture that David isn’t a part of. He wants to take his new work, called Project XS, completely offline to make it more exclusive.”

“Project XS?” Fleur asked.

“He’s working on film and photo documentation of extreme submission and physical torture of single pretty young women. No sex, no stimulation, just his devious devices and the girl on analog camera. You won’t find anything of his online. And even though we don’t have a web site right now, we do document Suffer Club like we did with Pain 2.0.”

“I think I have heard of Pain 2.0, but Suffer Club is new for me,” Fleur responded.

“Here, let me show you some of both.”
Erin grabbed her cell phone and swiped the screen for a few seconds before turning the device around and showing Fleur the screen.

“Just watch for a minute. It will give you an idea of Pain 2.0.”

Fleur watched the video on the small cell phone screen. It looked like it was footage taken from a session that had been going for a while. Hard rock music heavy with drums and bass played in the background as the camera zoomed out to a wide shot from a closeup and showed a girl suspended from metal clamps that crushed her bound purple tits. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and connected to her ankles. Between her knees was a spreader bar, adding both a great view of her pussy and abdomen and a lot of strain to the girl’s position.
The natural color of her skin was milky white dotted with freckles, as demonstrated by her arms and lower legs. Most of her torso, abdomen and legs was discolored with shades ranging from bright red to dark purple. As the camera zoomed out, two people stepped out of the frame to the side of the room this was filmed in and it became apparent that there was also an audience present, seated on chairs in front of wherever this camera was mounted.

The view switched to a closeup of the girl’s face and chest, framing her full bright red curly hair at the top left and her bound and clamped tits in the bottom right. Her eyes were closed, but Fleur immediately noticed the natural beauty of her face. Then she opened her eyes to reveal her dark green irises. Despite the position she was in, she radiated calmness with her face. Fleur studied the bondage they had performed on her breasts. They had been bound individually with a thin rope, probably a while ago, judging by their color, and subsequently clamped between two metal bars from which she was now suspended. Four evenly spaced skewers pierced each of her tits right in front of the bars.
The camera switched back to the wide-angle view again after a few seconds and showed two women walking back to the suspended redhead. One of them was completely naked, the other was half-dressed in high heels and a yellow latex dress that only covered her body from her belly button down. Her torso was heavily tattooed and her small areoles pierced with studs behind her big nipples. She wore her long black hair in a pony tail and didn’t try to hide the instrument of torture she had just picked up. She was obviously the mistress here, the other girl an assistant or a slave.

Before she started her work, she talked briefly to the naked girl that walked up with her. A close-up camera followed the slave girl while she knelt down under the suspended redhead and started fisting the suspended girl’s ass while lapping her tongue over her bloody pussy. When the view changed again to a medium distance, the mistress had also walked back up to her suspended toy and pulled on the bright orange power cord of the electrical drill that she had brought with her. She wanted to make sure she had enough freedom to move around.
Without any ceremony, she then started her work on the bound and clamped tits of the beautiful redhead. Using a thin but long metal drill bit, she pushed the tip of the power tool against the middle of her slave girl’s right breast and pulled the trigger switch. Of course, the bound and clamped flesh was no match for the power tool and the drill went through with ease. Fleur watched in awe at the scene that most people would turn away from in horror as the mistress pushed the drill deep into the redhead’s tits. The slave girl closed her eyes and bit her upper lip as the drill was pushed in, she underwent the brutal treatment with calm and grace. Surprisingly, no noise was heard, except the drill breaking through the background music. Neither the audience nor the slave girl made a sound loud enough to be captured by the camera.

Needless to say, the drill left behind a bloody mess when the mistress pulled it back out of her toy’s flesh. This was nowhere as clean as a skewer of even a nail through flesh. It could have been a lot worse if the tits hadn’t been clamped as much as they were; Fleur had seen how Mistress Elsa had used a drill on slave girl Tessa’s unbound tits. The drill bit mangled and twisted the loose skin as it turned around at a relatively slow speed, creating more of a visual effect. Elsa had used a wider drill and hadn’t pushed it all the way into her tits, effectively grating several layers of skin off the girl’s tits instead of fully drilling into the deep tissue.

Deep tissue was certainly drilled here in this video, though, and Fleur closely followed the Mistress’ tool as it quickly went back and forth from breast to breast, drilling small but deep holes that bled quite a bit. Within a minute, the mistress had drilled each side at least two times before she turned the drill and pushed it all the way through the girl’s right breast from top to bottom. That’s when Erin stopped the video.

“Wow!” Fleur exclaimed with wide eyes, “that’s wicked!”

“And they were far from done with her there. Maybe I’ll show the rest to you another time.”

“That would be cool. I love to see where people take their body art.”

“Body art, eh?” Erin chuckled as she put away her phone and reached under the table to produces a small photo album with Polaroid prints. “That’s a nice way to put it. I’m going to remember that one. The stuff from Suffer Club that I have with me is only on Polaroids, but we document both digitally and analog, just for your information,” Erin added.
Fleur sat up and bent a little forward to take a good look at the small black album, which Erin had turned around so her guest could view the images the way they were intended, while the hostess watched upside down and flipped through the pages.

“Here’s a good point to start,” she said as she stopped at page 4 or 5.

Fleur looked at the first image. It showed two smiling naked girls standing next to each other. In addition to very heavy and dark make-up, they only wore wide leather collars around their necks. The one on the left, a very skinny blonde with curly hair down to her shoulders, held a massive dildo clutched to her belly. The girl on the right, a redhead with a familiar face, cupped both her breasts with her hands as if she was presenting them to whoever took the snapshot.

“Hey, isn’t that?...” Fleur asked immediately.

“Yes, that’s Mathilde, she was also in the video you just saw.”

Erin quickly turned a few pages before she stopped at the next photo. The only thing Fleur could make out was that the two girls were separated fairly quickly and each was surrounded by a group of people in various stages of undress.

“Here, this should give you an idea of a possible setup,” she added.

Fleur looked back and forth between the two photos on the pages that Erin stopped at and saw that both girls were restrained in different ways. The blonde was standing, bent over a metal bar, her legs spread wide and her ass up high and her head and wrists locked in a pillory. It looked like an uncomfortable position. Several men, ranging from fully clothed to completely nude, stood in line to have their cocks serviced by her mouth. A tall woman dressed from head to toe in tight white latex gear stood next to her with a ring gag in hand.
The skinny redhead was on her back on something resembling a workout bench. Her head was hanging over the edge on one end and her hands were free. She held on to a metal bar that ran out sideways from the bench she was on. Her legs were pulled up and spread in what looked like leg holders from a gynecologist’s chair. They were strapped down at her ankles and lower thighs with leather bands. Like in the previous photo, several people stood around.

"So far nothing special," Fleur thought to herself. She tried to guess how many people were at these Pain 2.0 play parties, but these shots didn’t give much away.

“So, are they strapped down and used as entertainment like that the whole night?”

Erin chuckled. “It depends. This particular night they ended up like this after an hour or so of being used in various ways by our guests.”

“So how many people are at these parties?”

“Usually between 25 and 40, I would say,” Erin guesstimated. “It depends on how many +1’s our invitees bring.”

“And there’s two girls for entertainment?”

“Two or three girls, each with their own mistress or master, who will at some point start inflicting some serious hard pain on them. The only rule is that at least two of the girls’ holes need to remain available at all times for guests to use. For some reason, it always ends up in a gangbang that jumps from girl to girl,” Erin laughed.

“So those guys just watch the torture session and jump in whenever they want?”

Erin flipped another few pages and continued her explanation of the parties: “Yeah, men and women alike. Our guests will help out the mistresses and masters whenever they want and they can basically do with the girls whatever they want when they want it. The only thing they can’t do is film or photograph it themselves.”

She paused at two pictures that showed closeups of the blonde in her pillory. In the first, a woman with a large strap-on dildo fucked her bruised and bleeding ass from behind. The second showed a view from the front where the blonde chocked on a man’s cock which was buried balls deep in her throat while two people tended to various meat hooks that were pierced through her tits and skin of her abdomen and that had weights hanging from them.

“No, let’s go to Mathilde,” Erin mumbled to herself and flipped another few pages. When she stopped, she came to the penultimate pages of the little album. She pushed it a little closer to her guest.

“Wow,” Fleur whispered when the album was right in front of her. She studied the two pictures meticulously and found herself getting aroused just from seeing the images. Like before, the photos on the two opposing pages showed views from different sides. This was the skinny redhead again, still on her back, in the same setup as before. It was very apparent, though, that considerable time had passed between the previous pictures that Erin had stopped at and these at the end.

The girl’s tits were individually bound into bulging balls with a thin rope. Her areoles and nipples had been tied off separately with cable ties, creating a smaller ball of flesh on top of her tied tits. Fleur thought her nipples looked grotesquely large and she was right; the mistress assigned to Mathilde that night had injected the girl’s nipples with quite a few CC’s of saline fluid to enlarge them. She had done the same to the girl’s outer labia after tying another set of cable ties around them to also create orbs of flesh, but they were hardly visible in the bloody mess between her pulled-up legs.

Her body looked severely marked, bruised and punctured and while she had endured many needle piercings, cuttings, sutures, burns and other forms of torture from her mistress, she had been throat fucked and anally abused by many of the men and women in attendance. In the one picture, a topless woman pushed a massive strap-on in her ass. The other photo showed a man pressing the sharp end of a wooden stick into the flesh of her bound and pierced tits while his cock was completely shoved into the girl’s mouth and throat. Her hands were still unbound and with them, she jerked off two other men standing around her.

“Oof,” Fleur sighed as she looked up from the album. “She’s one lucky girl. How many cocks does she serve while the mistress works on her like that?”

“The whole line up,” Erin replied. “As many times as they want.”

“This,” Fleur said, “this is what I meant when I said I was tired of the torture videos without the fucking and the fucking videos with the lame ass baby bondage and spankings.”

“You game?” Erin asked, knowing very well that she had already lured in her young, competitive and eager guest.

“Fuck, yes!” she replied instantly.

“God, I’m such a slut,” Fleur thought to herself, adding out loud: “but I doubt you’d let me sell the video on my web site, right?”

“Let me think about how we’d go about that,” Erin replied. She paused for a second while looking straight at Fleur. Then she continued. “How about we first see what our club members think. We only want to work with an elite crop of very special and very masochistic girls. To weed out the wannabees we have a very straightforward process. First of all: I pick and choose. After that, my lead performers Natan and Dominika have to both agree that the girl is interesting enough to them to work on. Then we do two test sessions, one with Natan and one with Dominika. If the girl passes both, she will get to entertain a small live audience, after which the viewers votes to either see her return or dismiss her, kind of like a final exam to pass.”

“So,” Fleur tried to interject.

“One more thing, before your questions,” Erin cut her off. “The process is guided by two very simple rules that are in effect from the moment either Natan or Dominika call you by your name, followed by the command ‘Present’ until they say your name again, followed by ‘Thank you’. Rule number one: anything Natan, Dominika or anyone else they are working with decides goes, without hesitation or question. Ever. Rule two: girls who hesitate, refuse or in any way try to diminish whatever was planned for them, will get one warning and one warning only. A second warning will not be issued, but the girl will be put in restraints for the remainder of the session and dismissed from the process afterwards.“
Fleur waited for Erin to finish and waited a few moments longer to make sure. She didn’t want to interrupt again.

“Do you still have questions?”

“So, there are no safe words?”

“That is correct.”

“And no restraints?”

“Sometimes there’s restraints. But we’re not so much about locking you in uncomfortable positions and watching you squirm or testing your endurance by straining your body a certain way. We’re much more interested in seeing how far we can take a girl with certain idea without any restraints. We love to see a girl suffer for us without the ropes and shackles around her arms and legs. It really shows strength of character and ultimate submission.”

“So, you’re not going to put me in chains just for the looks of it?”
Erin paused for a second and couldn’t suppress a little laugh. “Dear, it’s whatever floats their boat during a session. If it excites them to see you in chains, they’ll put them on you. But we don’t do anything ‘just for the looks of it’. More often than not, every rope, clamp or shackle serves a very devious purpose.“

“And you said something like ‘anything they want goes’, so what does that include? How far does it go?”

“Anything you can imagine. Maybe more.”

“Can I ask about certain stuff? And then you let me know if it’s on the menu?”

“If that makes you happy, sure. But keep in mind: I just said that everything could be on the menu.”

“Carving?”

“What do you mean exactly?”

“Using something sharp to cut patterns into skin.”

“You bet that’s happening. Not always in pretty patterns, though.”

“Breath control?”

“That’s more Natan’s thing than Dominika’s. He has very intimate and inventive ways to cut off your air flow. She will just put a belt around your neck.”

“Piss and scat?”

“The first one often and the second one from time to time. Dominika will make you eat hers, too, if she really likes you.”

“Death?”

“I don’t think that would be wise for business and it wouldn’t keep our club members happy.”

“You never know,” Fleur responded,” there’s people who are into that kind of thing.”

“I assure you that death is not the intention. Since we want complete trust and surrender from our girls, we won’t create an exception list to our rules. You will simply have to trust us.”

“I’ve met you, but I’d love to meet Natan and Dominika sometime too.”

“Did you think I’d have you come all the way out here without having them on standby? Come follow me to the back!”