He was a masochist, loving every minute of it. Accommodating him, Tender brought her whip down again and again until she drew blood. Then it was time to stop. One time she had beaten him so badly, he passed out. She thought she killed him. She carefully wiped down everything in the hotel room she might have touched. She tried to rid the “crime scene” of evidence, her fingerprints. She was never so happy to see a white face in her life the next time he walked in the club. From then on she knew his limits; she knew his threshold for pain. She was careful not to exceed that.

Her next date was also beyond kinky. He too was downright sickening. “Ummm … these smell adorable. I love da scent of ya pussy,” the Hispanic man said.

Once a month, she had specific instructions to bring him a pair of panties that she had worn during her menstrual cycle. He paid handsomely for her worst drawers. It wasn’t the actual undergarment he wanted, he got off on seeing, tasting and smelling her discharge.

More power to the sick bastard, she thought. As long as he kept paying, she would feed his perverted habit.

Another man, a black guy, wanted her to watch him as he masturbated. She wasn’t required to touch him, undress or perform any sexual act with him. The only thing he needed was her presence. Most of the times, he couldn’t even achieve an erection. On those days, all she had to do was talk dirty to him. Since she charged by the hour, Tender always made sure she had a lot of vulgar sexual things to say. She was becoming as nasty as her clientele wanted her to be. She did everything short of defecating on people.

In addition to her freaky clients, Tender also had men who just wanted to talk. Some would come to the strip club looking to take their minds off certain things or to escape their turbulent world. They simply needed a sympathetic ear or maybe just a female’s point of view on the problems they were having with a wife or girlfriend. She would sit and listen, then give them good advice. She would counsel them on their troubles, making them feel good. For the short period of time that they were there, their minds were completely taken off of whatever was worrying them. Gratefully, they would be more than happy to dig into their pockets and give her their hard-earned cash. They compensated her well as a small token of their gratitude.

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER
15

KAT SANK HER CLAWS into Q and refused to let him go. He was her prized client now. “Q!” she called out, as they lay in bed at his condo. “I’m not good at sharin’! Nigga, you gone havta cut Tender’s ass da fuck off.”