Pain and pleasure were linked.“So do I.”She kept trying to get me to open up as we waited. Daddy finally emerged, wearing leather chaps and a vest, his cock thrusting hard before him, his body so muscular and strong. Beneath the vest, part of his barbwire tattoo was visible. Flames burned up his arms, forever frozen in ink.He took a hold of my braid and walked, using it as a leash as I padded along beside him. Lizzie followed us. My breathing quickened as we reached the stairs. Loud, dark music thudded up it. Soft, blue and violet lights spilled out of the darkness. Shadows moved. People were down there.Daddy marched down without any fear. I had to follow. He had a firm grip on my braid. The stairs were wooden, cold. I trembled worse. What was going to happen down there? Could I handle being touched and fondled by strange men?But Daddy wanted me to be touched.The stairs led into a large room. Lights on the ceiling flooded soft blues, violets, greens, and reds across the dungeon, each. She set a brisk pace as they walked to the car, and Fred admired her legs as her skirt swirled about her knees. He was soon glad that Sharon was in charge, as the route went through several parts of town that weren't at all to Fred's liking. Her radio was tuned to a local channel playing music that seemed almost familiar, bluesy but more raw and energetic than anything he had heard back home.The sign at their destination said "Hank's Rib Shack", and its run-down exterior made the sports bar look high-class in comparison. The food inside, however, made the drive more than worthwhile. As did the company - Sharon turned out to be a school teacher and a lively conversationalist, listening with equal interest to his stories about drilling clients. The band was loud but tolerable, and after her second beer Sharon dragged Fred onto the small dance floor where they bumped and ground their way enjoyably through some slow blues numbers.Time just flew by, and when Fred looked at his watch he.
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