So anyway, I'd split from my Rugby mates to go look for something a bit more off the beaten track, entertainment wise.

I somehow stumbled across what I assumed to be a boutique nightclub. The façade of the building, an old turn of the last century "terrace" shop, was painted completely in gloss black. A very small red back lit aluminium sign that simply said "Blitz" was affixed above the alcoved front door.

On closer inspection, the desperation at which the painter applied the paint was self evident. The windows and other doors where painted over with such ferocity that they seemed to be painted shut. Even the glass was painted in this thick tarry looking paint. I imagined this building painted quickly and thickly for some blitz that never came.

Anyway, I pushed the door open, as black as the exterior was, the interior was as red, but far more refined. Tailored, fat expensive looking chesterfields, gloss red walls and deep, thick red carpet. A long corridor lead straight from the entrance down to a set of thick velvet drapes. To my right was an ornate Georgian era arch, complete with two thickset, tough looking bouncers that looked as if hewn from the stone from one of any of Her Majesty's Prisons.

The bouncers crowded in on me, the tougher of the two chaps said; "Owroight son, you on the guest list." Not a question.

I stammered.

"Er ah no, should I leave."

The other bouncer chimed in.

"Only jokin' my son enjoy your evening" His wide gold encrusted smile ensured me should I fuck up, the results will be ugly.

I made my way to the bar and ordered a Beck's from the stunning dark haired goth barmaid.

"50 euro thank you," she purred.

I stopped short of complaining about the price, assuming the first drink price was also the cover charge. Thinking about the bouncers and the general heavy vibe of the whole place, I decided against asking any questions. I took a stool and took in my immediate surroundings. There were a few couples with weirdly off kilter age differences, ie older men with younger prettier women. In the corner was a really good looking guy with two really hot girls either side of him. he looked familiar. and various other punters, all well dressed and having a good time.

As I sipped my beer I had a feeling this place wasn't just a nice place for a drink. My assumptions proved true when another barmaid came on duty to replace my goth friend. I overheard them discussing shop.

"How is it down there babe?"

"For here, in context, its heaving. The Corporal is on fire."

Both women stifled giggles.

"Ok, enjoy the bar, I'm off down below, later babe."

I was intrigued, who or what was "The Corporal" and in what context did being "on fire" mean?

I discretely followed the barmaid out of the bar to the lobby, she then took a flight of stairs down to a bar in the basement area. Down here it was much darker, quieter but for the sophisticated electronica running through the house speakers. The music was loud enough to set an air of erotic excitement but quiet enough to hear people speaking.

This time I got a double scotch. I was unsurprised when the facially pierced barman took a 50 euro note off me for my trouble. I shrugged it off, I was keen to look around.

I soon realised I was indeed in a very upmarket sex club/bdsm hellfire type of club that offered various erotic pleasures. There was long stage with pole dancing and strippers, curtained off booths and a single wide, red door with a bouncer standing next to it.

I had to see what was behind that door.

I made my way over and went to push on the door, the bouncer put his gold ringed, scarred hand on my chest.

"Sorry son, to go through there I'll need to relieve you of 100 euro."

This time I had a little of the old Dutch Courage and asked straight out why. The bouncer grinned at me as if a shark might at the sight of a struggling seal pup.

"Trust me my son, it is well worth the outlay. If not please let me show you out"

I handed over a crispy 100 euro.

As I went through I heard a sharp crack of leather on flesh and the muffled cry of a man in pain. There was a gasp and some muffled giggles from the small but eager crowd of onlookers. But, what were they looking at?

I politely made my way to the front, to find a slender but muscular young man strapped up between two wooden posts. He was completely naked and sporting a powerful erection, his chest was heaving with exhaustion and erotic pleasure. I noticed a few nasty looking whip marks across various parts of his naked oiled body.

The man's torturer "The Corporal" was busy selecting another whip.

As she turned I gasped at her shocking beauty and equally shocking attire. She was likely around 5'10", but in the high heeled shiney long boots she was around maybe 6'2"? Her outfit was a stylised nazi SS uniform, with an extremely shirt and tight skirt, black SS waistcoat type thing complete with the red nazi armband, over a shirt with the top 5 buttons undone to show off her exquisite breasts. Her wonderful albeit slender curves further enhanced by the wide black leather belt cinched at the waist. Topped off with a sexily askew SS officers cap on her head. Blonde hair cascaded form under the hat to her shoulders.

"Blonde Bombshell" barely described her stunning perfect beauty. She even had a black mole above her full glossy red lips.

The Corporal reminded the crowd who she was in german accented English.

"As I remind you, I am zee corporal, I am master of extracting genetic information from any man or woman who may cross my path with only my selection of vhips."

She then slapped the riding crop on her left boot, it made a gunshot crack, she turned to her subject.

I'd been to the boxing a fair bit with my mates and seen exhaustion on the rugby pitch. I could tell this bloke was done. he was almost crying, the corporal proceeded to finish him off.

She stood next time, as if presenting him to the audience. This woman's whole act was pure theatre. She arrogantly turned to him, looking down her nose at him. with one hand on her hip she then began ever so subtly tapping the guys glans with the leather tagged end of her crop.

Then along the shaft back and forth over and under.

The guy was actually crying in pleasure.

She moved back to his glans, tapping just hard enough that it gave enough pain to be pleasurable. She then had the leather tab on the end fluttering over his glans.

He cried out and came powerfully, his spurt powerful enough to hit one female audience member's bare leg. I had to catch my breath when she bent and and ran her finger through his come and put it in her mouth.

The Corporal knew how to grab an audience.

I was shocked and hugely turned on, before I could think further The Corporal demanded another subject.

"Who vishes to dare attempt keeping filsy lies from zee corporal, how about your young lady, do you dare to be questioned by the Corporal?"

The young lady, quickly shook her head.

Just then I felt a push in the back, I just had time to turn to see the doorman grinning at me, he shot me a quick wink. I was pushed into and under the gaze of The Corporal, almost slipping on the, slick with come black vinyl floor.

"Ah a filthy miscreant, do you vish to defy me urchin?"

I made the decision I'd do it, besides I wanted my money's worth. Orgasm by whip might be fun.

I gave her a smart assed wink and began to strip off. I didn't care.

I was then assisted further out of my clothes by two young men in nothing but leather G-strings. One then oiled me down, somewhat lovingly, with baby oil as I was strapped up between the two wooden posts. I gave the chap a glare but he simply blew me a kiss and smirked. So there I stood in a frozen star jump shape ready for questioning.

This time The Corporal drew on some long shining rubber "to elbow" gloves. She took up a Cat O' Nine Tails and began with an insult.

"Vat is this, this cur you bring me. Let us loosen it's tongue."

"Vat is your name dog?".

I decided to play along and kept my mouth shut, that was a mistake.

"Speak now or suffer."

she flung the cat o nine tails across my chest. It really fucking hurt. I screamed out my name.

"ANDY... my name is Andy."

"Ah vat ve have here is a trouble maker. His juices shall flow I assure all of you."

The Corporal was a performance genius she began working me over with various whips. Every stroke from every whip was just painful enough to make me wince at the sensation and sound but not be in any actual extreme pain. In fact I was becoming highly aroused and it showed.

"Ah vat ve see is der subject's reprobate ways made real in a physical sense."

She held a riding crop under my hard on as if presenting it up for inspection of the audience.

By now I was feeling quite good and confident, mind you careful not to show The Corporal. I am far from the handsomest bloke on earth nor am I hung like a horse. But I have a good sized cock and balls that hang quite low. I keep my sex shaved and hairless. I pulled in my gut and drew my chin back. Defiant.

This time she switched things up, by working over my ass. She gave it a gentle slap making the mass of muscle around the butt quiver, then hard, I winced, involuntarily tightening my butt. I heard a women let out a moan of delight at the look of my tight hairless ass. I have dimple on each side of my butt that becomes visible only when my butt clenches in like that.

The Corporal noticed the audiences attention to my ass. She also read my obvious like for having my ass touched. She took that as her queue.

This time she drew in close. running the whip up from my bare ankle, up my inner calf, up my inner thigh. Then she ran the tag on the crop right along my ass crack. She whispered in my ear in perfect American English.

"You are getting ME hot now. You have a cute ass sunshine."

She nipped my ear, she then asked for her assistants to hold my ass cheeks apart. The crowd actually gasped, The Corporal had never done this, gone in this close, this controversially.

I began to get really aroused, she then drew the crop gently along my fully exposed anus. Stopping right at the most sensitive rumpled skin of my hole, she then drew the crop at and gave my asshole a quick firm slap.

I could feel pre-come drooling out of my cock. I was close.

She then began ever so gently, erotically testing my limits around my anus, perineum, balls and cock. She would lift my nuts with the crop and tap them with the crop's tip. At one point she drew further gasps from the crowd when she plucked up my balls and cock in one hand and delivered an underhanded wack to my perineum with the crop. It stung like hell, but it felt amazing.

It felt as if my end was near, but again The Corporal delivered another shock.

"Zis is a highly irregular reproachable urchin, thus requiring unorthodox treatment."

She took a strip of leather and pulled it up under my balls and over the base of my cock and tied a knot. She pulled the know none to subtly into a strongly constricting cock ring. If I wanted to come now it'd be work I knew that.

I then received the fluttering of the crop's tip technique she used on the young man before me but I was just managing to hold back.

That was until the crowd gasped as The Corporal threw the crop away and had one of her assistants squeeze clear lube all onto her hands. She looked up at the crown throwing off her cap, letting her blonde hair cascade over her shoulders.

She then moved in close beside me and sat her finger just over my asshole. With the other she theatrically, carefully and deliberately wrapped her hand around my cock and began giving me the hand job to end all hand jobs.

She hefted my heavy cock back and forth, sliding her hand over my glans, alternating by then sliding my significant foreskin over the glans as well. Her finger then entered me and began delivering prostate massage.

"Assistant, unbind this snake."

The assistant undid the cock ring.

The Corporal had me then and there, I could take no more. I cried out as I orgasmed with my eyes tight shut. I opened my eyes as I shuddered again and again, my seed flying into the transfixed audience.

The Corporal turned to the crowd.

"Behold the miscreant made whole with confession."