The Three Amigos At The Purple Oyster
Author’s infos
Gender: N/A
Age: N/A
Location: N/A
Jake, Dave, and John have been friends forever, but the high costs of college cause them to explore some rather interesting ways of making extra money.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2023 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Jake, Dave and John had been close friends since high school. Actually they were friends long before high school. Jake and Dave had known each other since forever and John became their friend when his parents moved into the neighborhood just before he started school.
The three boys were originally part of a much larger circle of friends, but in high school things slowly began to change. The change occurred when their friends began to gradually merge into the dating and party scene until it was just them… and Doreen. Then at the end of their Junior year Doreen left. She stopped by Jake’s house to say goodbye. As usual, Dave and John were also there.
“I’m eighteen now,” she said with a sad smile. “I figured it was time to come out to my parents.” She grimaced and continued, “That didn’t go over well. They kicked me out of the house. I’ve got an aunt in Chicago who said I can come live with her until I graduate high school. I guess I should have kept the closet door closed until I graduated.”
The boys offered their condolences, but there wasn’t anything they could do. After Doreen left, Jake said with a laugh, “Half the school thinks we’re queer, too. They call us The Three Amigos and laugh behind our backs.”
“I’m not attracted to guys,” Dave said firmly. Then he shrugged and said, “I’m just not attracted to girls… as girls.”
“I guess we are just attracted to each other,” John said. Then he laughed and added, “… as The Three Amigos .”
They finished their senior year and were all accepted to the big state university. Both John and Dave had other offers, but those other offers didn’t include enough money so they both chose the state school where they would be better able to afford things. Freshman year, however, they soon realized that it was room and board that was really killing them. The scholarships they had been able to get were specifically for tuition and fees. That helped a lot but they still had to come up with money for the dorm and for the food service and for a thousand other things they hadn’t thought about. After a semester of trying to scrape by on minimum wage part-time jobs, they rented a run-down furnished apartment together. There was a kitchen, living room, and three bedrooms. One was bigger and had a really big bed. The other two were really small and had regular single beds. They drew cards to decide who got the big bed and Jake won.
Living together settled into a routine that eventually led to them mutually realizing that they were a lot more than friends. One weekend, they were watching some weird movies– as usual– and drinking beer– as usual. Actually, they were drinking a LOT of beer because John had won a decent-sized prize on a lottery scratch ticket and splurged for a couple of large pizzas and a refrigerator full of sixpacks. The next morning, they all woke up together in the big king-sized bed in Jake’s front bedroom.
“Did we do what I think we did last night?” John asked, looking sheepishly at Dave and Jake.
“Do you mean fucking each other rather than just laying in our own beds and jacking off while thinking about each other?” Jake said with a smile.
“Then, yes,” Dave continued, “we did what you think we did. He paused and asked, “Any regrets?”
“No,” John said, “except maybe why didn’t we do this a long time ago.”
That afternoon, John, who was an art major, painted a sign for their apartment door. It was a caricature of each of them wearing huge black sombreros beneath the words, “The Three Amigos.”
He explained, “I copied that from a poster for that weird Steve Martin movie from the 1980s.”
“Think anyone is going to get upset?” asked Dave, “… cultural appropriation and all that?”
“We’ll just tell them that we are an exotic dance team and that is our stage name,” Jake said with a laugh.
John and Dave joined him in his laughter until John, suddenly became serious and said, “Wait a minute.” He turned to the others with a smile and added, “That just might work.”
“What might work?” Dave asked.
“Dancing!” John nearly yelled,
“We all have really good bodies,” he continued. “And we can all dance really well… at least we can all move really well with the music.” He stopped and looked back and forth between Jake and Dave before finishing with, “And we all REALLY need the money.”
Dave raised his eyebrows and said, “Maybe you’re right. Why should it be just the sorority chicks who can make some good extra money in the strip clubs?”
After a few silent moments, Jake, a theater major, said, “I know where I can get some hokey Amigo costumes. It will just be a matter of modifying them with breakaway seams.”
And so was born, The Three Amigos club act.
Their first night was… well… a first night. They got appreciative whistles and catcalls from the half-drunken ladies present at the club as they danced provocatively around the stage. But they didn’t get a lot of money in their g-strings, even after they had danced out around the tables. They were paid a little more than minimum wage, but the money was in the tips, even if they did have to give 10% back to Barney, the club owner, to “share with the other staff.”
At the end of the night, Barney told them gruffly as he took his 10%, “Give it a month. If things don’t improve I might have an idea for you.”
Things didn’t improve. Four weeks later, Barney called them into his office. “You guys are good,” he began, “really good … at dancing. But you can’t fake it for the ladies. They just aren’t connecting and paying out. I watched the audiences, though, and there were always a handful of guys that would have been pushing big bills down your cups if they weren’t here with a date.”
“So?” said Jake.
“I think you’re at the wrong club,” Barney said firmly. “I think you should be across town at the Purple Oyster. He laughed and said, “I run that one too.” He paused and then said, “It’s an openly gay and lesbian bar just outside the city limits. The only problem is that the acts that really pull in the dough there also have a heavy BDSM or pain component to their act.”
“I see,” said Dave softly.
“Give it a shot,” Barney said. “Maybe you can pull in enough with just the dancing.” He paused and then smiled and added, “But I’m a pretty good judge of people, and I think all three of you Amigos would be up for some bondage or pain play.”
He handed them a card with the club’s address on it and said, “If you show up next Friday night, I’ll know I’ve got some new dancers.” He laughed and said, “Keep the Three Amigos bit, that works. Just figure out how to add something more to the act.”
The next week The Three Amigos opened at the Purple Oyster. They stayed out front and watched the other acts before going backstage and getting into their costumes. This time there was applause, whistles, and cat-calls as they began to strip away the hokey Mexican outfits. The whole place started laughing and applauding loudly when the pants came off and instead of regular g-strings there was a little black leather sombrero keeping things legal. When they left the stage there was a goodly amount of bills tucked into their g-strings and sombreros. After everyone’s first set. Barney came back stage and commented on how the various acts were received.
Then he took The Three Amigos aside. “You guys are really great dancers,” he said firmly, “but if you just dance, you gotta be here dancing four, five days a week to make any real dough. And you got to start with the six o’clock show. But if you bring in the whips and paddles, you make the same amount in just the two after hours shows on the weekend.” He paused and then said, “Two shows versus maybe fifteen or twenty or even thirty. Think about it.”
During the third set, when The Three Amigos were down to just their g-string sombreros, they danced out around some of the tables trolling for extra tips. One rough looking lady in an all leather outfit with an overly-effeminate young woman with flaming red hair sitting next to her held out a twenty and said, “This is yours if I can give your ass ten swats.”
Without really thinking about it, Dave said, “Five and with just your hand.”
“Come here honey,” she replied. Then in a very firm voice she said, “Hands on the table and bend over so Precious can see your ass.”
He leaned over and put his hands on the table. The first “Smack!” came immediately. Dave grunted but didn’t yell out. The second swat was harder and on his other cheek. Leather lady alternated two more swats before hitting low across both cheeks so that her hand slammed into the back of his ball sack. That got a much louder grunt.
As Dave stayed leaned against the table catching his breath, precious said in a very little girl voice, “Is that what my ass looks like when you spank me?”
Leather lady replied, “You’ve got a much nicer looking ass, precious, but in the end, yours looks just as red.”
Dave stood up and the lady laughed slightly. “I’m always impressed by a man who tips his hat to a lady.”
He didn’t understand until he looked down and saw that his little sombrero was pushed aside by his nearly erect dick. Leather lady said, “Let me fix that for you,” as she pulled the sombrero back in place and then tucked an additional twenty dollar bill inside.
When they got backstage, Dave said to Jake and John, “I really didn’t expect that.”
“Getting spanked or getting off on it?” John asked quickly.
Dave answered, “Yes,” and then turned very red.
“Don’t get embarrassed,” Jake said. At least you didn’t shoot off into the hat.
Dave looked surprised, and then even moreso when John said, “Now I don’t feel so bad about almost breaking the damn g-string that holds the hat.”
Dave looked back and forth between them and then said, “Maybe Barney is a good judge of people after all.”
Jake added, “And maybe we CAN make some real money here.”
John was silent for a while. Then he said, “And I’ve got an idea.” When Jake and Dave looked at him, he said, “You gotta have a gimmick and I think The Three Amigos are just to ones to come up with something unique. Let me talk to Barney after the last act tonight.”
When they got home, John said, “This may take a little while to build a following, but if we are regular about it, I think we can make some real money.”
“What do we have to do?” Jake and Dave asked in unison.
“Dave,” John began, “you need to use your civil engineering construction skills to build what is basically a large barrel on legs. Jake, you need to use your theater skills to figure out how to make it easily roll out onto the stage. And I will use my artistic talent create a huge ferocious looking bull’s head and a very muscular body.” He then began to draw out what he had in mind.
“I can make that work,” Dave said, “but I think it has to round off a bit in the back to do what you want to do.”
“And the body has to be bigger if the surprise is going to work,” Jake said. “And I think it should be lower in the front to display things better on stage.”
And so was born the “The Three Amigos and the Bull of Pain .”
After the bull was finally completed, they decided to go full in and stopped dancing on week days. But they didn’t limit themselves to just the after hours show. Their plan required that they started dancing at four o’clock on Friday and Saturday. That meant five performances before closing time, but John insisted that they think of it as one really long performance each night.
After each dancing set, The Three Amigos trolled for additional tips, but as they did they were holding clear plastic containers with their pictures on them. In large letters beneath the picture it said, “Help Keep Me Off The Bull of Pain.” If someone asked what that was all about, they would answer, “You really have to stay for the after hours show to find out.”
One thing which Dave hadn’t anticipated was that the Amigos had gotten an instant reputation when the Leather Lady spanked Dave. At least twice each night someone proposed a table spanking, usually, but not always for Dave. Jake, Dave, and John had decided that they needed to be consistent about the cost per swat and agreed upon “One for five, five for twenty, an even dozen for forty.” If someone asked for more than a dozen, the answer was always, “Hey, I’ve still got to dance tonight. Wait for the after-hours show. Maybe I will be the one on the Bull.” That was one more incentive for people to stay… and pay… for the after-hours show. Barney was very pleased when the after-hours crowd was larger than normal.
The after-hours show took advantage of a loophole in the liquor license laws. On Friday and Saturday night at exactly twelve forty-five, he would announce, “We will be closing in fifteen minutes. If you are returning for the after-hours show, please get your drink orders in now.”
The waitresses and waiters would hurry from table to table getting the drink orders. Then at exactly one, Barney would yell out, “Closing time. Everyone out.”
People there for the first time were always a bit confused, but the regulars knew the drill. They would all walk out into the large lobby and Barney would close the inside doors, flip the Open sign over to Closed, and shut off the outside signs. Then he would re-open the door and say, “Welcome to the Purple Oyster After-Hours Club. Remember no alcohol can be purchased or served, only soft drinks and food. Admission charge is twenty dollars per person, payable at your tables.”
He then returned to behind the bar while the wait staff, who were mostly the same staff as before the club closed, but were now totally naked, collected the admission fees and took orders for snacks and soft drinks. Since the Purple Oyster was technically closed and rented out to the Purple Oyster After-Hours Club, which was in his wife’s name, and since no alcohol was sold or served at the Purple Oyster After-Hours Club, the ridiculously prurient regulations of the liquor license board didn’t apply. In other words, after hours anything goes… well almost anything. There could be no direct touching of genitalia because that could be considered prostitution. So no touching unless it was “accidental contact.” It was amazing how accident prone the after hours group tended to be.
Just to be sure that no one crossed the line intentionally, the acts were supposed to remain backstage before they went on. Afterwards, if they changed or dressed or whatever, they could go out front, but no one could go out front in their performance costumes. That notice was posted in several places backstage primarily to satisfy Barney’s lawyers. Since the after-hours crowd included almost every imaginable BDSM outfit, including naked slaves kneeling at their Master or Mistresses feet, no one could really tell if any of the performers went out front to mingle with the patrons.
The Three Amigos , however, needed to stay backstage. That was because the Bull of Pain designed by John, needed to be brought into position after the last regular act. They watched from backstage as Barney introduced Mistress Leather and precious to start things out.
Mistress Leather was a favorite at the Purple Oyster, and so was precious. Slave precious was not Mistress Leather’s first slave. There had been others through the years, but precious was by far the palest and whitest of the young women who had served Mistress Leather. Mistress Leather liked a white ass… a really white ass… because it showed each imprint of the hand or paddle so clearly. For that reason all of her subs had been red heads and precious was the reddest and palest of them all. Slave precious had also been with her the longest. Perhaps their relationship was not as casual as the others had been. Perhaps there was more than sex and power which bound them together.
“Fellow pain aficionados,” Barney called out loudly, “the Purple Oyster is officially closed. No alcohol may be purchased from the bar. We are just a group of people who are gathered together because we like pain and like to watch the five couples or groups that have decided tonight to display their particular pain kinks for our pleasure. … And remember our beautiful waitresses and hunky waiters are for viewing only. No touching.” He laughed slightly and then said rather roughly, “And I gave that bullshit introduction because my lawyer said it made it more likely for me to get off if we get raided.”
As the laughter began to fade he added in almost a whisper, “… which we won’t because I have also paid all of the unofficial government fees needed for these after hours shows.”
He then smiled brightly and said loudly, “But you don’t want to hear about how I can get off in court. You are here to get off either seeing someone inflict pain or imagining you are the one receiving the pain.” He laughed again and said, “Maybe by the end of the night you might even have a chance to experience either… or both sides of that.”
He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and said grandly, “So without further talking or other bullshit, we begin with the first of our four acts for tonight. I present our perennial favorite, Mistress Leather and her slave precious.”
Mistress Leather strode onto the stage from stage left while two stagehands dressed in all black rolled precious in from stage right. The rolling platform was a round circle with a somewhat tall spanking bench built on it. The top, padded portion of the bench was exactly at waist height for precious, meaning that she could bend over it if she stood on tip toe. She was bending over it, but was no longer on tip toe. Instead her legs were spread out so that her feet could hook two round wooden pegs which stuck out from the legs of the bench.
On the front side of the bench, precious was tightly gripping two similar round pegs which stuck inward from the legs of the bench. It was pretty obvious that the bench had to have been built specifically for precious because she fit exactly as she stretched herself tight over the top of the spanking bench.
“You will notice,” Mistress Leather said slowly as the stagehands turned the rolling platform completely around, “that my dear precious is not restrained in any way. There are no restraints on her wrists and there are no restraints on her ankles.” She smiled at the crowd. “If she wanted to,” she continued, “she could just get up and walk off the stage. Couldn’t you precious?”
“Oh, I forgot,” Mistress Leather said in mock surprise, “you can’t answer us because you have a ball gag in your mouth.” She chuckled lightly and said, “That ball gag also is not strapped in place. There is a safety piece which curves around precious’ cheeks so she can’t accidentally swallow the gag, but she can… if she want’s to… spit it out.”
She paused with her hand next to her face as if thinking, “I know how we can get precious to tell us things. … one wink for yes, two winks for no.”
The crowd laughed because precious was placed facing away from the crowd with her ass almost glowing white under the stage lights.
“Well,” Mistress Leather said in mock frustration, “you wouldn’t have been able to see her face anyway.”
She then turned to precious and said, “If you can hear me clearly give us one wink for yes.”
The ruby red asshole clenched tight for just a moment and disappeared between precious’ pert white asscheeks.
“Now,” Mistress Leather continued, “are you restrained in any way?”
Two winks of precious’ ass.
“Can you leave if you want to?”
One wink of precious’ ass.
“Do you want to do this?”
One wink of precious’ ass. Then two winks. Then one wink. Then two winks.
“I see some confusion,” Mistress Leather replied. “It looks like you are not sure whether or not you want to do this. Does that mean that you NEED to do this?
The audience applauded loudly when precious winked a yes answer.
“So precious needs this,” Mistress Leather said looking out at the audience. “But how much does she need it?” She put her hands on her hips and said in a lower voice, “And how sure are you that you can predict when precious no longer needs it?”
“It’s simple,” Mistress Leather said as the naked waiters and waitresses scurried out among the tables. “As you give your tip money to the servants, you also give them a slip of paper which predicts when precious breaks. I will start with fifty with my hand. Then there will be twenty-five with the leather paddle followed by twenty-five with the wooden paddle. If precious is still in place I will finish with twelve with a cane. If precious breaks… or orgasms, which might occur… that ends things. Remember, you are not betting, you are merely getting rewarded for your skill should you guess correctly.”
Barney stuck his head back around the corner of the stage and said, “Another speech brought to you by my lawyers. Tip heavy gentlemen. The one who guesses right will be rewarded with ten times his tip.”
While the naked servants were collecting the tips and not-betting slips, Mistress Leather walked over to precious and began rubbing her ass lightly with her hand. In response precious groaned softly. Then the light smacks began. There were ten alternated onto each asscheek. For most people, it would have been impossible to tell that anything had happened, but on precious’ extremely pale skin a faint trace of red began to appear.
Then the smacks became slightly stronger. The impact of Mistress Leather’s fingers could now be heard as another ten smacks were alternated onto each asscheek. Now the hand print was clearly visible evenly spaced from the top of her ass to down where her ass began to merge into her leg.
Mistress Leather did not seem to be swinging any harder, but the “Smack!” sound became much louder as she put her whole hand into it. After another ten, precious’ ass was a bright red.
“We have lit the fire!” Mistress Leather said loudly and then began swinging much harder as she smacked one asscheek and then the other. After about ten more smacks, precious began to grunt and squirm. As the count approached fifty, precious was squeaking and grunting with each smack, but her feet were still firmly under the pegs and her hand were still firmly on the grips.
Mistress Leather stopped and faced the crowd. “Were any of you actually stupid enough to think that a submissive pain slut would possibly quit over a simple hand spanking?”
There was laughter from most of the audience, but a few men looked down and threw scraps of paper onto the table top.
“Let’s see how precious responds to the leather paddle,” Mistress Leather said as she picked up a short leather paddle from the prop table at the edge of the stage.
She approached precious slowly, swinging the paddle through the air as she walked completely around the spanking bench so precious could clearly see what was in her Mistresses hand.
“I’m going to take your gag out of your mouth for the leather paddle,” Mistress Leather said softly. “That is so you can count them properly. We will put it back in when we get to the wooden paddle.”
She held the ball gag by the protector and pulled it from precious’ mouth. She set it on the platform beneath precious and moved around behind her. The first stroke of the leather paddle came suddenly and precious obviously wasn’t expecting it. She screamed loudly and thrashed against the pegs which held her feet in place, but she did not pull her feet out from under them.
“One, Mistress Leather,” precious said when she had regained control.
Mistress Leather continued at an even pace. Everyone… including precious… could predict exactly when the next blow would strike. That was a pain slut’s paradise. A predictable pain that she could go into and open herself up to in advance of the blow.
Then came the twenty-fifth spank. After precious said, “Twenty-four, Mistress Leather,” the paddle did not fall as anticipated. Instead Mistress Leather stood there with the paddle held up high in her right hand while she counted down with the fingers of her left hand. Long after precious expected the paddle to strike her ass, the final finger on Mistress Leather’s left hand closed and her right arm swung down very rapidly.
The loud “Thwack!” as the paddle struck precious’ ass low and in the center was almost drowned out by an extremely loud scream. Slave precious was still screaming when Mistress Leather pushed the ball gag back into her mouth.
“Well,” Mistress Leather said with a crooked smile, “all of you who bet on the leather paddle can tear up your betting… I mean reward slips.”
Mistress Leather walked back over to the prop table and picked up a wooden paddle that was about a meter in length. Such a long paddle was designed to strike both asscheeks at the same time. In fact, it took a skilled spanker to strike only one asscheek at a time. Mistress Leather was a very skilled spanker. The first ten swats alternated from asscheek to asscheek. Precious thrashed and screamed into her ball gag, but remained in place.
Then Mistress Leather moved to the other side and again delivered ten swats. Each sharp “Crack!” brought another fit of thrashing and screaming from precious, but when the twentieth spank with the wooden paddle was finished, precious was still in place.
“What do you think?” Mistress Leather said as she once again crossed the front of the stage. “Do you think precious can stand the full might of this maple marvel?” She then squared up and swung strongly so that the paddle landed across both asscheeks.
There was an almost extreme amount of thrashing and muffled screaming, but precious still stayed in place. The next swat was just as strong but just a little lower on precious’ ass. The audience was now totally quiet. Swat twenty-three was just as hard and again a little lower. So was swat twenty-four. Mistress Leather brought the paddle back and then up close to precious’ ass several times as if exactly measuring her stroke. Then she spun and swung with a single motion slamming the paddle into precious’ ass right where it blended into the legs.
Slave precious thrashed so violently that her right foot slipped clear of the peg holding it down. She was obviously crying heavily as she slowly moved her leg back so that the foot slipped back under the peg.
“Looks like anyone who bet on the wooden paddle can kiss their tip goodbye,” Mistress Leather said, almost laughing.
She then went over to the prop table and picked up a thin cane. “There will be only twelve of my best,” she said whipping the cane back and forth in the air in front of herself so that it almost sounded like an angry hornet.
“Do you hear this humming, precious?” she said, turning toward the bound slave. She then brought the cane slowly up to precious’ fire red ass. As she tapped the cane on the slave’s ass she asked, “How many strokes will you be able to take, precious? Will we take all the money tonight or will you let one of these gentlemen go home happy?”
No one except precious paid attention to how many times Mistress Leather tapped on precious’ ass. If they had, they would have known when precious would break. It was an act. It was always– or almost always– an act. On almost every night precious would be able to withstand anything which Mistress Leather did to her. But if precious never broke, people would quit betting on when she would break. So there was a code. Precious never broke from the hand spanking and if she did people would think it was fake. She rarely broke from the leather paddle and only occasionally broke during the wooden paddle.
The code there was simple. Mistress Leather would read the audience and if it looked like a night for a leather break, then she would strike twice on the same asscheek rather than alternating. That meant that precious was to break after two or three more swats. The same was true with the wooden paddle. Two strikes on the same asscheek meant to break. The cane was always across both asscheeks, so the signal was a little more direct. Mistress Leather would tap precious’ ass lightly the number of times she expected her to withstand before breaking. If she didn’t tap at all, that meant to go the full twelve.
Of course, there were nights when, for some reason, precious couldn’t stand it and broke unexpectedly, but she knew that if she did that, there were be additional punishments at home with her Mistress. So most nights, she broke on cue. Tonight Mistress Leather tapped her ass eight times so precious knew that on the eighth strike of the cane she would break.
Mistress Leather whirred the cane in a tight circle as the men in the crowd leaned forward waiting for the cane to strike. Then with a sudden movement of her wrist it crashed down across precious’ ass. The shriek was plainly audible even around the gag. There was a whir and again the cane came down. After only a very short pause the cane came down again. Mistress Leather was not striking in a regular pattern. It would take all of precious’ strength to hold on until the eight stroke. The next five strokes came in very quick succession. On the last of those five strokes, the eighth stroke total, precious spit the gag out of her mouth and screamed loudly. Her feet came loose from the pegs and her hands released their holds. She was balanced on the padded bench thrashing and screaming.
“I guess any of you with the eighth stroke of the cane get your tips back plus your reward,” Mistress Leather said dejectedly. Then she bowed to the crowd and stepped behind the curtain as the stagehands rolled precious off stage still balanced thrashing on the padded spanking bench.
Barney bounded back onto the stage applauding theatrically. “Was that a great act or what?” he said exuberantly. “Mistress Leather, by the way,” he said in a more normal voice, is available for private sessions to test your strength and endurance. So if you got off thinking about yourself in slave precious’ place here up on stage talk to her after our final act.”
The next two acts were pretty lame. One was a single male who danced around the stage trying to be sexy as he stripped down to totally naked. Then he made an attempt at twerking the crowd. He wasn’t that good at it, and when he bent over further to show his open ass to the crowd, several people threw coins at him. Throwing coins is a definite insult in any strip club and will often get you thrown out, but the regulars– and the bouncers– knew that the coins were a part of this particular dancer’s kink.
After several coins hit him, he stopped and turned to face the crowd and said in a very effeminate voice, “Well, that wasn’t very nice. If you are going to throw coins, at least heat them before you throw them.”
He then started dancing across the front of the stage bent way low so that his full moon was bouncing in front of the crowd. At least a dozen men got out their cigarette lighters and were holding pennies, nickels, and quarters over the flame. When the coin got too hot for them to hold, they flipped the coin at the stage. About half of the coins struck the dancer on his ass or landed on his back. He gave a deep groan each time one hit.
He continued to more or less dance, shaking his ass at the crowd, but his erection was growing longer and stiffer. Finally he put his hands on the floor of the stage and bent his knees so his rosebud was winking at everyone as he danced.
In a throaty, yet still effeminate voice, he said hoarsely, “Anyone want to put some heat in the coin slot?” He paused and then said, “Coins only… for now.”
Two men came up on stage. One was holding a lit cigarette lighter. The other was holding a stack of quarters. The man with the quarters would hold one over the cigarette lighter until they were almost too hot to hold, then he would shove the quarter deep between the dancers asscheeks.
Each time he did so, the dancer would groan and clench his ass cheeks. The clenching caused his prick to bob and bounce. On the eighth… or maybe the tenth quarter, the dancer gave a loud groan and spurted all over the stage.
The crowd applauded, but Barney stepped rapidly out onto the stage and said loudly, “Dammit, Queenie, I’ve told you about that. And I told you what I would make you do if you did it again. Do you remember?”
The dancer, who was now down on his hands and knees, said, “Yes, Master Barney.”
“Then do it!” Barney yelled out.
The dancer lay face down on the stage and began licking the cum off the floor. Barney looked out at the crowd and said, “Queenie can’t live on quarters, so if you want to see her… him… it… whatever back another time, lets float some paper onto the stage for her to also clean up.
The was a small shower of various bills that had been crumpled into tight wads so they could be thrown. The regulars knew to make the bills into giant almost spitballs. They didn’t have the impact of a coin, but there were shouts of “All right,” or “Got him,” every time one of the wads struck Queenie. After a few minutes the hailstorm of wadded bills ended and one of the naked waitresses walked out onto the stage with a big push broom and pushed all of the money over to the back on stage right.
“Our next act,” Barney said loudly to gain control of the crowd, is a lion taming act with Master Raynard and Mistress Black. Six figures crawled out onto the stage on hands and knees. They were naked except for a great deal of body paint… or perhaps tattoos. Their faces were obviously painted, and there were lion or tiger paw gloves on their hands and matching boots on their feet. Everywhere in between the pattern was too flat to be makeup. It had to be tattoos or really, really good spray painting.
Two stagehands rushed out onto the stage carrying seven short, but wide, stools which they placed around the stage. As soon as the stools were in place, the six lions and tigers got on the stools and sat in a very exaggerated squat with their feet and their asses on the surface of the stool. Their hands were held up in front of themselves at shoulder level. Once they were in place it was extremely obvious that the five lions were males and the tiger was female. There was no hair below any of their shoulders except for the faux hair on their gloves and boots.
With a loud crack of a whip, Master Raynard and Mistress Black strode out onto the stage. He was dressed in a typical lion tamers loose white shirt. His black pants were extremely tight and were covered with almost knee-high black boots. She was wearing a very tight spangled black bodysuit that was cut very high on the sides. Her boots were higher than Master Raynard’s and covered her knee with a square flap of the black, shiny leather.
“Brutus,” she called out as she cracked her whip and one of the lions jumped down onto the stage. “Roll over,” she commanded and he immediately rolled over onto his back. His much less than flaccid prick was sticking straight up into the air.
“You poor baby,” Mistress Black said with mock sympathy. “You need someone to take care of that.”
She gestured to Master Raynard and he cracked his whip so that it almost struck one of the male lions. Then he barked out, “Cum Bucket, service your alpha male.”
One of the lions jumped off of his stool and crawled over to the prone Brutus and stopped with his head just above the now stiff prick. He stopped and both Master Raynard and Mistress Black popped his ass with their whips. In response he gave a high pitched growl of pain and shook his head.
“I gave you an order,” Master Black barked and then again popped the lion’s ass with his whip.
“You have a choice,” Mistress Black said as she walked over to the lion who was still shaking his head. “The choice is mouth or ass or the worst beating you have ever had in your life.”
Cum Bucket turned slightly and put his head all the way down on the ground with his ass high in the air.
“Good Cummy,” Mistress Black crooned as she took a tube of lube from a naked waitress and squirted it between Cum Bucket’s ass cheeks. Cum Bucket growled in a high-pitched whiny way and slowly shook his head back and forth.
“No Cummy,” she replied firmly, you can’t get out of it.
The naked lion crawled over until he was straddling Brutus’s prick. Then he put all his weight on his arms and pulled his legs forward until he was able to squat right over the throbbing member.
“Down,” Master Raynard said firmly and Cum Bucket impaled himself on Brutus’ prick. Cum Bucket sat there until Mistress Black used her whip to flick him on the ass. That, combined with Master Black saying, “Get moving!” caused Cum Bucket to start bouncing up and down.
Soon both lions were growling out groans that got louder and higher pitched. Just as both of them growled out one last time and Cum Bucket’s spunk spurted onto Brutus’ chest, the female tiger cried out, “O God! Somebody fuck me! Fuck me, anybody… everybody… fuck me!”
She leapt off her stool and landed on the ground with her face on the floor and her ass high in the air like a cat in heat. The remaining three lions also leapt from their stools, all growling loudly. One lifted the tiger up to a kneeling position and slid his legs between hers. Then he pulled her back down. Another lion held her up on her arms and thrust his erect prick into her mouth. The third took the only opening left and plunged into her rosebud. Soon all three of them… and the tiger in heat… were all growling loudly.
Mistress Black turned to face the crowd. “It appears we have lost control of our pride of lions,” she said in a very pleasant sounding voice. “I do hope you will still encourage us to return next week, or perhaps even tomorrow night. Fives and tens will get us back next week. A rain of twenties means we will be here tomorrow night.” She paused and then said, “And if your rain can’t quite reach the stage the pretty little naked waitresses will be walking among you to collect your tips. And please notice that they also have portable machines that will process any credit or debit card if you are short of cash.”
There was a flurry of bills from the front tables. The waitresses also passed by those tables just in case anyone wanted to use plastic.
Master Raynard and Mistress Black waited until the pile of copulating cats reached orgasm and then began using their whips to drive the cats off stage. As they were leaving, Barney came on stage applauding loudly.
“In case you didn’t notice,” he said looking out at the crowd, “there was one empty stool during that act. If you have ever thought of some permanent pet play just give Mistress Black or Master Raynard a growl later when they come out into the club.”
He then looked backstage, nodded, and continued, “And now the act that everyone has been talking about. You have all gotten to see The Three Amigos dance.” He laughed slightly and continued, “Some of you have even gotten to smack one of their delightful asses as they walked among the tables picking up tips. Many of you were a little confused about the Bull of Pain which they advertised. Well, now is your chance to see what that Bull of Pain was all about.
Music with a deep, pounding beat began blaring through the speakers above the stage as a huge statue of a bull slowly rolled on stage. The glossy black fiberglass shell of the bull’s body gleamed in the spotlights. The head was low, almost at the ground and had a ferocious look to it. The bulging eyes with veins of red showing starkly in them were especially ferocious as they seemed to glare out at the crowd. The back end was raised high with the rear legs tilted forward as though the bull was getting ready to charge.
On the back end of the bull, in stark contrast to the gleaming black fiberglass, was Dave. His naked, white, heavily oiled skin also gleamed in the spotlights. His feet seemed to be perched on small indentations in the bull’s rear legs and were held in place by black straps which seemed to disappear into the bull’s fiberglass shell. His arms were stretched out tightly over the bulls back. His hands seemed to be holding onto some sort of handle with his wrists held firmly in place by black straps similar to those holding his feet.
The rest of his body was pulled tight over the back end of the bull as if he were fucking it in the ass. But if you looked carefully, you could see that Dave’s entire prick and balls were held tight within an opening right where the bull’s asshole should be. Actually you didn’t have to look all that carefully to see that because the stagehands were slowly rotating the platform on which the bull stood giving everyone a very good view of the bull’s… and Dave’s… ass. With the way Dave’s arms were stretched out and the way his legs were bound to the bull, his ass was fully on display with the cheeks spread and his asshole quivering as the bull slowly turned.
Jake walked out onto the stage. He was dressed in his Three Amigos costume with his sombrero pushed to the back of his head.
“I am going to warm Dave up a little,” he said with a big smile. “Then maybe you can join in the fun.”
The bull had now stopped with its… and Dave’s… ass facing the crowd. Jake stepped up onto the platform and began spanking Dave’s asscheeks. The spanks were evenly spaced. Each one was exactly the same distance apart. But the force of the spanks was increasing. The crowd was starting to clap or pound on the table with each slap. Dave was starting to moan slightly.
Jake suddenly stopped and turned to face the crowd. “Would any of you like to light the fire a little brighter in Dave’s ass?”
There was a thundering cry of “Yes!” from the crowd.
Jake sailed his sombrero into the backstage area like it was a Frisbee. Then he said, “Who’s willing to tip one hundred for the privilege?” He looked out at the audience with his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide open.
After a moment of silence, he said, “I didn’t think so. I wouldn’t pay that much just to give Dave ten spanks either.” He paused and asked, “What about seventy-five?”
Again there was silence.
“Fifty?”
More silence.
“Fifty and after the hand spanks you can do ten with a leather paddle?”
Four hands shot up into the air.
“Oh dear,” said Jake. “I don’t know if Dave can take that many.” He paused as if thinking deeply and said, “Don’t worry. Come on up on stage and we will figure something out.”
As they got to the stage, he said a little more softly, “The delightful little waitress will take your tips.”
Three of the people were male, one was female… a really large female.
“What are your names?” Jake asked. Then he smiled and said, “It doesn’t have to be your real name, I just need something to call you while you are up here on stage.”
“Call me Sam,” one of the men said somewhat gruffly. “Frank,” one of the others said. The third man turned a deep red and said softly, “Call me Tiger.”
“Ah,” Jake said, “This is part of a full fantasy night, isn’t it.”
Tiger turned a deeper red and remained silent.
“What about you? Jake asked the large woman.
“My slaves call me Mistress,” she said strongly.
“And what do your friends call you?” Jake replied.
“Mistress Mary,” the woman replied curtly.
“OK,” Jake said. “This is what we are going to do, we will start with Frank and Sam…” He pointed to the two men. “… and then we will figure out something for Tiger and Mistress Mary.” When they both glared at him he said quickly, “Trust me, it will be everything you wanted and more.”
He then positioned Sam behind Dave on the platform. “Ten with your hand anywhere you can reach,” Dave said loudly.
Sam’s first swat was an open handed swat to the right asscheek. It made a great deal of noise when the palm of his hand struck.
The man smiled and stroked Dave’s ass with his left hand. Then he turned to Jake and said, “I love the way a man’s asshole clenches up when you smack his ass.”
Sam then began to smack alternately with each hand. He was standing so that his face was basically even with Dave’s asshole and he seemed to be keeping his eyes glued to the winking rosebud as he delivered smack after smack.
When Sam finished, he stepped off the platform and Frank took his place. Frank was more interested in watching Dave’s face as he smacked his asscheeks, so he stood slightly to the side. All ten swats were delivered to the left side of Dave’s ass. Each resounding “Smack!” was followed by an equally loud yelp from Dave.
When Frank had finished, Jake said loudly “For this next part, you are going to stand one on each side of poor Dave and swing with these.” He handed each of them a long leather paddle about a half-meter in length and very flexible.
The two men stood on either side of Dave swinging the paddles to get their arms used to the length and flex. Then Frank nodded to Sam and swung his paddle hard into Dave’s ass.
Dave had been more or less silent up to this point, but the loud, “Smack!” of the leather striking ass flesh was followed by a loud cry– almost a scream– from Dave. Nineteen more yelping screams followed as the two men methodically turned Dave’s ass a bright shade of red interspersed with a little purple.
Thank you very much, Jake said as motioned with his had for the two men to leave the stage. “Can we stay up here to watch the finish?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” Jake said thoughtfully, “that might be against club rules since you are no longer actually a part of the act.”
The petite little naked waitress suddenly appeared on stage and shook the big plastic tip jar at the two men. They both laughed and pulled out a twenty each. Jake cocked his head at them and they added another twenty.
“Just stand over there out of the way,” Jake said. Then he smiled at Sam and said, “Don’t worry, Sam, you’ll be able to see his asshole from there.” Sam smiled back happily in response.
“Now for you two,” Jake said walking over to Tiger and Mistress Mary. “I think you will definitely enjoy a little hand to flesh action on such a red ass.”
Both of them nodded in response. Then Mistress Mary said somewhat huffily, “And after that?”
Jake laughed a deep, almost evil, laugh. Then he said, “I got Dave into this, so I will help him get through it. I promise you that there will be a naked ass for you to give ten swats with the paddle when we get to that point… if your friends out there help you out.”
Mistress Mary looked suddenly angry and almost shouted, “What?”
“What I mean,” Jake said, trying to calm things down, “is that if there is a green rain on this stage while you are hand spanking Dave’s ass, then I will climb up there myself and present my bare ass for your paddles.”
He turned to the crowd and said in an almost sarcastic way, “Of course, I may need something to distract me while my ass is being pounded so I might just pound a little ass myself.” He then raised and lowered his eyebrows like a melodrama villain as the crowd laughed.
“OK,” Jake said, “You two get ready to spank.” Turning to the crowd, he said, “And you all get ready to make it rain.”
Mistress Mary went first. As she approached Dave she held her hand just above the surface of his right asscheek.
“Warm,” she said, “I can feel the heat.”
Then she gave that red asscheek a smart slap with her open hand. She followed that with nine more. No two smacks were the same distance apart or the same intensity. She also varied how she struck, sometimes she hit only with the fingers or a flat hand, other times she struck very hard with her hand slightly cupped. Mistress Mary knew how to spank.
After her last spank, she returned where Jake had been standing while Tiger went up to spank. Tiger seemed to be almost out of breath as he slowly stroked Dave’s red, naked ass. Then he took a deep breath and slapped Dave’s left asscheek. It wasn’t particularly hard, but it wasn’t a love pat either and the “Smack!” was loud enough to fill the room. He then gave Dave nine more identical smacks evenly spaced.
By the time Tiger was finished, he was deeply flushed and breathing very slowly. It was obvious to many in the club that Tiger was imagining himself in Dave’s place all the while he was spanking. His spanks were what a painslut sub would want, not necessarily what a Master or Mistress would deliver. When he returned to stand next to Mistress Mary, there was an obvious tent forming in his trousers.
All the while that Tiger and Mistress Mary were spanking, bills were fluttering onto the stage. After the little naked waitress had scurried around and picked everything up, Jake stepped back out on stage totally naked and heavily oiled. He looked at the bills on the floor and said loudly, “Well it looks like we did have a green rain, so I guess I am going to have to keep my end of the bargain.”
He looked over to the two men standing to one side and said, “Hey Sam, would you like to grease that asshole up for me?”
Sam suddenly stood up very straight and said, “Uh… sure.”
The little naked waitress ran up and handed Sam a tube of lube and he hurried up to squirt a goodly amount between Dave’s asscheeks.
“OK Tiger and Mistress Mary,” Jake said as he started to climb the back of the bull on small indentations that had not been obvious before he began his climb, “once I get up here and… uh… in place you can start when you think it is right. But make sure you let me get in place and it is ten swats each… ONLY ten swats each.
Jake had quickly clambered up over Dave and after a moment to center his prick on Dave’s asshole, he leaned forward and grabbed two small handles that also hadn’t been apparent before. Then he looked down at Mistress Mary and nodded his head.
“Get over here, Tiger,” Mistress Mary growled and Tiger swiftly jumped to her side. “You get over there on that side. I’ll start first and you’d better make each stroke exactly like mine or I’m taking you home with me and teaching you how a proper whupping is done.”
The crowd laughed slightly at Tiger’s sudden intake of breath. He looked up into Mistress Mary’s eyes and then quickly looked down at the floor and walked over to the other side of the bull.
“Paddle ready,” Mistress Mary barked looking sternly at Tiger. She raised her paddle and moved it back and forth quickly causing the long leather portion to wiggle just above Jake’s ass. Then she delivered her first swat.
The loud “Thwack!” echoed through the room concealing Jake’s grunt of pain… or was it passion?
Tiger’s “Thwack” was nowhere near as loud as Mistress Mary’s had been. The crowd could plainly hear Jake’s grunt and then a low moan.
Mistress Mary glared at Tiger and then delivered another blow. This time, the loud “Thwack!” was followed by a definite yelp from Jake which was then followed by a low moan that was not a groan of pain. Jake was getting off either from the spanking or from the movement the blows caused forcing his prick in and out of Dave’s ass.
Again Tiger’s “Thwack” was much softer than Mistress Mary’s had been.
The “Thwack!” yelp, groan, “Thwack” continued in an almost regular rhythm. Then on the nineteenth blow– Mistress Mary’s tenth swat– Jake lifted his upper body up off of Dave’s back and tensed up his ass so that his asscheeks were clenched tightly together.
On Tiger’s tenth swat– the twentieth blow– Jake groaned loudly and lay back down over Dave.
Barney came back out on stage and took the paddles from Mistress Mary and Tiger. As they were stepping off stage, Mistress Mary said loudly to Tiger, “You are DEFINITELY coming home with me!”
The audience laughed loudly as a wet spot suddenly appeared on the front of Tiger’s pants.
Barney announced loudly, “That’s it for tonight. The after hours club will remain open for a little while so you all can talk and finish your soft drinks and snacks, but you all have to be out of here by three. Remember the Purple Oyster After Hours Club will be back tomorrow night. And tomorrow night we will have seven special acts including The Three Amigos and their fabulous Bull of Pain .”
Backstage, The Three Amigos were getting off of the Bull of Pain. Jake, who was not really restrained in any way, slid down to the floor and walked to the front of the bull. He reached under the head and released a hidden latch so that he could lift the entire head upward onto the back of the bull.
John slowly slid out. He had been lying on his back inside the bull. If you looked into the opening, you could see Dave’s prick and balls hanging down right where John’s head would have been. Together John and Jake removed the restraints which kept Dave firmly on the bull’s ass.
“Time to go home and put some healing ointment on those flaming asses,” John said as he walked back into the dressing room.
A few minutes later, as the three were walking out through the bar, one of the regulars who was still at a table, hanging around asked him, “Hey Jake, why to you guys call yourself The Three Amigos when there is always only two of you on stage for your big act.”
The man continued, “And you both got your ass beaten. Who actually lost your little tips contest.”
Jake smiled down and him and said, “That’s a professional secret. Every act has to have some professional secrets, doesn’t it? Let’s just say that the secret is in the bull itself.”
John was laughing as they walked out to their car.
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END OF STORY
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