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Club el Diablo

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Club El Diablo: THE kinky place of sin and the ultimate den of inequity where the rich and famous come to play. Fantasies come true and dominant men meet their match. Enter at your own risk!

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Holly S Roberts likes to gloss over her exciting past as a homicide detective and make you think she sits at a computer all day writing. Nothing could be farther from the truth. You’ll find Holly in the mountains on a long hike or at the gym pounding barbells with the boys. She’s a health coach and nutritionist as well as being vegan and proving muscles come from hard work and plant-based foods. When the weather’s too cold for outdoor play, she sneaks into her dark cave and writes until her fingers ache. She’s also followed around by a hundred-pound Rottweiler with anxiety issues and constant need for affection. Each finished chapter gets a dog lick when Holly stays on course.

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Chapter 1: Lydia
PART ONE The whip snaps with just enough force to bring a low cry from Angela's lips. When I use the four-foot Australian leather in a scene, it always draws a large crowd. The sound of breathing from those gathered surrounds me and I can feel the s****l excitement in the air. I stay in the zone, and so does my sweet sub. Angela is one of my favorites to work with-her surrender is beautiful. Moisture beads along my hairline as my arm rises and I flick the whip again. Red welts, never breaking the skin, systematically appear down Angela's back. The people watching grow quieter as the scene continues. This is what members of the Mediterranean Club pay for. Though calling this place a club is going slightly overboard. MC is a dive. I've worked here for three years and done everything from tend bar to discipline subs. My current role of enacting scenes for the questionable crowd is my favorite. I blank out the whispered voices, the smell of s*x, and too many bodies. Angela needs me. And I need Angela too. The domination of this scene fulfills the place inside me that craves release. My thoughts calm with each strike. Angela's small gasp when I place a stinging stripe to the tender skin of her upper thigh sizzles through me. Here... I am master. Fortunately, the club's owner appreciates the crowd I draw and lets me clean and maintain my own alcove. I also have a small office off the back where I soothe and comfort my patrons after I finish breaking down their submissive barriers. Yes, it's a dive but it's my space in this f****d up world. I give Angela a brief respite so I can adjust the speed of the vibrator clenched within her tight p***y and turn her around so I have a clean canvas. The scent of her sweat and desire floats through me. Her moans grow louder with the absence of stimulation and I rotate my wrist, ready for the next round. Snap. I love the sound as it pops against flesh. She can no longer hold back her screams and she finds release. The orgasm ripples through her body, carrying the crowd with her. Many of the watchers pull their subs aside for a small moment of relief before the next show begins. I have one more exhibition for the evening and then I can go home. I haven't used my personal toys on myself in more than a week, and I need a little private fantasy time. I remove the vibrator from between Angela's legs and assist Raul in releasing the sobbing woman from her bindings. He carries her nude body into my small private domain and gently places her on a low, padded bench. "I'll take it from here, Raul. Thank you." "Yes, Mistress Lydia," he nods. We're best friends, but he follows protocol when I'm working. Angela rests on her side shuddering and trying to control her emotions. I walk over, run my hand gently through her hair, and help her sit up to take a sip of the orange juice I offer. "Thank you, Mistress." "You did wonderful tonight, Angela. I don't think I've ever seen you more beautiful and responsive." I kiss her cheek and take out a bottle of my personal blend of special oils to coat the red welts I left on her skin. I also want to make sure I haven't caused any lasting damage. There is no sign of blood or torn skin, but I like to assure myself the subs are okay before they leave my private room. "Lay back, sweetheart, and I'll get you fixed up so you feel better." "Yes, Mistress." Her gruff voice is subspace lazy, and I smile softly at the worn out picture she presents. I help her to her stomach and began soothing the oil into the silky soft skin of her legs, back, and ass. "Tell me about your week." I keep my voice gentle. This is her time and her reward for giving me her trust. I listen attentively and make the proper sounds of encouragement when called for. "He didn't call," she whispers with such hopelessness that it twists my heart. "I waited all week and now I know he won't be back. I loved him, but he won't accept me for who I am." "When's the last time you saw your therapist, Angela?" I arranged for this particular therapist. Donna, a sub herself, understands the D/s dynamic and Angela needs someone who won't frown on her lifestyle. "I saw her two weeks ago. She told me Aaron probably wasn't the guy for me, but I was still hoping he would give us a chance." "Is that why you requested I use the whip tonight?" I usually don't give into requests. My subs trust that I know what's best for them. Something in Angela's eyes as she kneeled before me had me granting consent. "Yes, Mistress, I needed to forget the rest of the world. Thank you." My hands continue gliding gently over her firm buttocks and upper thighs. Angela's body is beautiful. Each curve a work of art. If I were gay, I would be in love with this messed up, beautiful woman. The men in her life are just plain stupid. Angela would give that special someone the world if they would look beyond her need for pain. "Turn over and let me attend your front." I rub the oil into her breasts, upper thighs, and stomach. Toward the end of the scene, I'd struck her perfectly groomed p***y a few times because I knew it would take her over the top. Now, I make sure to massage the faint red lines to take away the sting. Angela's breathing quickens but she knows my rules-no s*x outside of a scene or you are no longer one of my treasured subs. I'm strict and never deviate from my rules. It's all in the not-so-fine print of the contract they sign before I begin working with them. Why I think my rules keep me from forming attachments I'm not sure. I have deep feelings for Angela. No, they aren't s****l and Angela isn't the only sub I care about. It's important to me that I define our connections and control them. My entire world at the club revolves around control. "You're beautiful, Angela." I pluck her n*****s with a little twist and she groans in response. I kiss her cheek and help her sit up. Grabbing a soft towel from a shelf below the bench, I wrap it around her and take a quick peek at the time. I have forty-five minutes until my next scene. Angela needs me more than I need my low-cal snack break. We sit on the couch and my sweet little sub asks permission to lay her head in my lap. My fingers run through her lush, blonde strands and I listen while she speaks more about her life. It's times like this that everything becomes clear and I take solace from my poor f****d up life with human touch and caring. I sip on bottled water and give Angela a full bottle to make sure she stays hydrated. I hate post-scene sub drop, and having this bonding time helps us both avoid the aching loneliness of our lives for a little longer. "Are you going home now or will you hang around for a while?" I ask. I know the Mediterranean Club is not the best place for Angela after a scene, but there's little I can do but ask Raul to keep his eyes on her. In my contract I gain the right to act as a service top. This limits my ability to boss Angela around even though I know she wouldn't mind. This is another way I keep my D/s relationships on an even keel. It's worked so far so and I have no plans to stop now. Because of my own personal s****l needs I stay away from permanent D/s relationships. She gazes up at me with absolute trust. "I'm going home, but I'll make an appointment with you for next week if I may, Mistress." "Yes, but I'll miss you until then." Angela moves slightly and the towel slips off her breasts. Her creamy soft skin practically begs for attention. No, it won't be from me. I lift Angela's head slightly and take her lips in a soft lingering kiss. The door to my private world opens and my gaze travels to the sound. One hand clenches suddenly in Angela's hair, though I soften my grip immediately and lower her back to my lap. "This room is off limits. Please leave and close the door behind you." I expect the door to shut immediately but an unfamiliar man takes a full step into my domain. I can only stare. He's well over six feet tall, breathtakingly gorgeous, and ever so lickable. With two more aggressive strides he's completely inside my private sanctuary. It's more than obvious his hot body doesn't belong at the MC. He puts off a killer dominant vibe but that special place inside me hopes he's submissive. I instantly want to control every inch of him. Oh, but to punish first for disobeying me. My p***y grows wet. I hold Angela still as her muscles tense and she tries to move her head from my lap. "If you take another step, I'll have security throw you out of the club and have your membership revoked." It's the best I can come up with. What I really want is to replace the date with my vibrator later on and use the stud standing inside my door. I rarely orgasm at the club, but for this man I might bend my rules a little. He offers a tight smile. "I'm afraid it's your boss who gave me permission to come in here." His smooth, powerful voice sends goose bumps across my skin, damn him. His dark dangerous eyes hold mine and the secret spark I hide from the world flares. To have his hands punishing me would be- I snap my thoughts from going there. What happens in my bedroom stays in my bedroom not in this sleazy club. His gaze travels to Angela, lying nearly naked in my lap, before zeroing in on me again. Angela's body trembles noticeably in my arms. I run my hand through her hair, though it's purely a nervous gesture, and crap, I'm never nervous. He's just so cocky, and an inkling of who is standing in my domain has entered my lust-filled brain. Anger slowly replaces thoughts of domination.

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