He's a BDSM freak

Finnie arrived a The Candlelight, a tiny little shack venue in downtown Des Moines, that opened up and looked much bigger on the inside. The sign out front read "DragonFire: A Performance of Music and Punishment." Finnie wasn't sure what that meant.

Nor was she sure what to make of the crowd. She was clearly out of place in her polka-dotted dress among swarms of goth people, all dressed in black, some barely dressed at all. One girl had on a mesh top, totally see through. Another had her man in tow on a leash. Finnie had never been a fan of the goth lifestyle... do dark and sad. She wanted to be happy and enjoy life. Still, with her short hair, tattoos and pierced nose she could probably have passed off as one, if she'd only known to wear the right clothes.

Now she stood out among the crowd sorely. Still, her thoughts were of Trent. She bought a ticket and went in. The club was dark and the crowd was sweaty. The opening act seemed to be no more than two people on stage fucking. Finnie grimaced. Why would Trent be associated with all this?

Finally DragonFire was announced and five guys jumped up on stage. Finnie didn't recognize any of them, not even the lead singer who should have been Trent. She squeezed up through the crowd for a closer look.

The guy looked nothing like Trent. He was tall, sure, but more muscular. He was totally shaved bald with a long windy goatee and a bullring through his nose. He wore a chain around his bare chest, which was covered in a dragon tattoo and a pair of leather pants.

Finnie peered into his face as best she could. The music was loud, **** metal. Different than what Trent of high school had played. Thy lyrics seemed out of place for him too. Finnie couldn't make most of them out over the screaming but occasionally she heard lines like "scream till you cum..." and "your safe word is 'more'."

But the crowd seemed to love it. Over in the corner, a girl was on her knees, sucking off two guys. From several other points in the club she heard moaning and the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

At one point two girls jumped up on stage and Trent stopped a song. "Declare yourselves" he shouted into the microphone.

"We're sluts!" the screamed back. Then he made one of them bend over and eat the other out, as he slipped his hand into her pussy from behind and kept singing.

This wasn't Trent. This was a mistake. This was a totally different person. Finnie was filled with disappointment. It had all been for nothing. She decided to leave.

And then he smiled.

Trent smiled. And she knew that smile anywhere. This was him, this was Trent. And Finnie no longer knew what that meant. Should she stay? Should she try to introduce herself at the end of the show? Her whole plan had fallen apart. Still, she tried to make her way to the front of the crowd as the show was ending, not knowing that it was actually just getting started.

Roadies cleared away the instruments and only Trent remained on stage. He grabbed the mic, "Who's my **** tonight?"

A gaggle of girls at the very front of the crowd began to scream. Trent jumped off the stage and picked one. She followed him up onto the stage. She was a pretty girl, young, probably no more than twenty Finnie thought with pale skin and blonde hair done up in pig tails. She wore a pair of black bikini tops and a leather skirt. The crowd hollered in approval. Finnie watched curiously.

"What's your name?" Trent asked her, almost sounding kind.

"Sandy." she answered, a big smile on her face.

"What do you wanna do tonight Sandy?"

"I want you to own me." She smiled, as if she knew the question before she gave her answer.

"What's that?"

"I want you to hurt me!" she shouted. And the crowd went wild.

At that, two men walked up on stage with ropes and a cart full of gear. They quickly tied Sandy's arms behind her back in a complex knot. Then Trent shuffled around and grabbed a big pair of scissors off the cart. "What do you want when I'm done with you?" He asked.

"I want to have to walk home naked." She said. And Finnie realized she was giving canned answers. She may not have done this before, but she'd seen it before.

Trent cut her bikini top off exposing her perky breasts and tiny little nipples to the cheering crowd. Then he cut at her skirt, until it fell off. She wore no panties and her bald snatch was exposed. Both articles of clothing were completely destroyed.

"Now tell me Sandy. How many men have you fucked?"

A proud smile curled itself over Sandy's lips "Forty-one" The crowd cheered. They were eating up everything. Or perhaps they just knew what came next.

Trent grabbed a leather whip off the cart and held it up to Sandy. Then he began to whip her ass. The crowd counted "One...two....three...." and for what seemed like forever. Sandy yelped with each hit.

After reaching twenty, Trent switched to her pale soft tits and began to whip. Finnie squirmed. This was so far removed from what she'd expected. She told herself that she didn't want to fuck Trent anymore. She tried to believe it.

Then Trent asked if she'd had enough. "No! I want more!" she screamed, her body covered in red streaks and welts. So Trent grabbed a ball gag from the cart and wrapped it around her face, muffling her mouth. There would be no more questions for Sandy. But there would be one for the crowd, although Finnie didn't quite understand it.

Trent stepped up front decoratively and asked. "Up or Down?" And the crowd began to shout back, first a mess of the two answers, and then finally seeming to agree with one.

"Up! Up! Up! Up!"

And suddenly the men with the ropes were back on stage again, tying Sandy's legs up to her arms in a knotted concoction Finnie was sure she'd never understand. She barely noticed but a hook was begin lowered down to the stage as well. Sandy screamed in what sounded like muffled delight. And her tied hands behind her back were attached to the hook.

It began to raise Sandy's battered body up and as it did, somehow her legs were tied in a way that they spread, spread wide, exposing her entire twat to the crowd. The roar of the crowd was massive.

Finnie looked down. She needed a moment, just a brief moment to herself. To breathe, to deal with the fact that watching Trent do this was starting to turn her on. She'd never expected to be turned on by something like this. But it was Trent, and she almost couldn't help it.

When she looked back up, Trent's fist was buried deep in Sandy's pussy. He thrust it upward and she screamed each time. The crowd loved it. Juices shot from her cunt in every direction, covering the floor, covering some people in the front row. He fisted her over and over, seemingly more and more aggressively until it just seemed like he was punching her insides.

Spit ran from her mouth over the ball-gag and dripped from it. The stink of sex filled the room. Everyone was cheering. The lights flashed like a strobe. Music swelled. It was a great show. Finnie resisted. God how she resisted, but in the end, she lifted up her skirt and started to rub herself.

Finally Trent finished fisting and they let the poor girl down. She hit the floor like a sack of wet potatoes, no longer able to stand, her entire abused being covered in sweat and cum. Her face fell into a puddle of her own juices and she immediately started to lick, as if she had no other choice.

The crowd was wild now as the men finally returned to stage and helped Sandy up to her feet, undid her ties and her ball-gag. Trent leaned in and gave her a kiss. "Sandy, everyone!" The crowd loved her. She smiled like she was a star and the men helped her off stage.

Then Trent leaned into the mic. "Who's next?"