Hellfire Part Two by Robyn Masters

Chapter Five
                  Dressed in black, an older man in his late 50’s carrying a worn black leather bag enters Hellfire on a Saturday night.
                  “Welcome to Hellfire. Are you a member?” asks the gatekeeper at the front door.
                  “No. A friend suggested I check this place out,” the gentleman replies.
                  “Not a problem. Here is a list of rules that must be followed. Only safe and consensual play is allowed. The donation for this evening is $30.00.”
                  The man hands over two twenties and the girl replies, “Thanks for the tip. You can go on through the black curtain.”
                  “Um.. I need change. That was not a tip. I don’t make much money so every dollar is important.”
                  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed you were tipping me. Most men do when they come here,” she replies.
                  “I am not like most men. My change please?”
                  She gives the man a ten dollar bill and looks away obviously a little pissed about not getting tipped at all. The man stashes the bill in his pocket and walks through the curtain and proceeds to the main room. For never having been to Hellfire before, he seems to be very familiar with the layout of the building.
                  He passes through the accessories room and enters the main dungeon room. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, his senses pick up on the scents and sounds that now surround him. He finds a seat on a lumpy much used sofa and is quickly joined by a young woman in her twenties. Quite a bit overweight, she is dressed in a corset that pushes her oversized breasts up and out forming an inviting display of cleavage.
                  “Good evening Sir. May I address you?” she politely asks.
                  “Yes, child you may address me. What is your name?”
                  “I am called Slave Cheyenne. How may I address you Sir?”
                  “You may call me Sir, Slave Cheyenne.”
                  “Yes Sir,” she replies with eyes lowered.
                  He places his hand on her head and says, “No need to pout my child. I will take good care of you this evening. Let us proceed over to the cross and I will bind you to it.”
                  “Yes Sir. What do you have in mind for me this evening Sir?”
                  “I was thinking of a stranglehold flogging to your lovely plump ass,” he replies.
                  “Yes Sir if that will please you. Shall there be a safe word Sir?”
                  “Of course my child. Your safe word is red. Can you remember that?”
                  “Yes Sir. I can remember to say red is your punishment of me it too much to bear.”
                  “Punishment? You misunderstand my child. My flogging of you is not a punishment; it is a gift to you for it is what you desire is it not?” he asks.
                  “Yes Sir but too much of a good thing can also be dangerous and hurtful at times.”
                  “Well said Slave Cheyenne. I will take you to inner sub space and you will enjoy the gift I will bestow upon you,” he says as he positions her onto and facing the St. Andrews cross and begins to bind her hands.
                  She watches as he secures each wrist and she begins to tremble. He does not bind her ankles and tells her, “I am leaving your legs free so you can jump and squirm as the flogger whips your bare ass. I like to see a slave jump when hit.”
                  “Bare ass? Oh Sir, I don’t know if I am ready for…”
                  She suddenly feels her skirt fall to the floor revealing her ass cheeks to the world to see for she is only wearing a