Scarlet Assassin by Isabella

placed in an iron bar contraption, exposing her chest and back more. The mistress tugged on the clamps to check their security and ran her hand over the woman’s tight stomach. Slowly, she caressed the woman’s ass and then removed her short skirt, exposing a leather thong to the audience. 
    The crowd watched the mistress skillfully work the flogger over the woman’s chest and ass. A bright shade of pink worked its way around her slender body. Francesca watched the intricate pattern of red welts that crisscrossed the naked woman’s body and wondered if it hurt. The woman licked her lips and then bit her lower lip. It was clear that Iris was enjoying this torture, and it sent a shiver through Francesca’s body. She felt shame when her body tingled in response to seeing the blindfolded woman whipped. Francesca gasped, had she heard her right? Surely, she had been mistaken. Then it happened again. 
    “Please, ma’am, one more.”
    Her masked torturer obliged the request, striking at another clear swath on her body.
    “I bet you a hundred bucks you couldn’t do that.” Dorothy whispered in Francesca’s ear.
    “I bet you couldn’t do that,” Francesca said, pissed that her friend was acting like she could do it.
    “I could do that, piece of cake,” Dorothy smiled, meeting Francesca’s eyes and then ran her tongue over her lips.
    Francesca had heard enough. She needed a break and a trip to the ladies room was just what the doctor ordered. Fighting her way past the crowd at the back of the club, she pushed the bathroom door open and sighed. No line. The air-conditioned coolness of the bathroom felt refreshing and lucky for her, quieter. Resting against the wall, the chilly tile was a welcome cooling on her back. Her mind was on overload - the flashing lights, the booming bass of the music vibrated through her. The tall, swaggering, darkness of the club owner, Selene, was sexy as hell. She had total bad girl written all over her—so not Francesca’s type. Her dark eyes pulled at Francesca. Francesca was naïve when it came to bondage. She’d thought when she entered the club tonight she wanted to keep it that way. Now she wasn’t so sure.
    The voyeur inside kept her glued to her seat as the scene unfolded before her. Each time the whip landed on its target, it sent a rush through her. She couldn’t explain it. Pain wasn’t an aphrodisiac to her, but thinking about someone else controlling her had a certain appeal, a certain detachment she might enjoy. Her neat, nice little life was so orderly, it begged for something or someone to come in and turn it upside down. Pulling the stall door shut, she sat down and rested her head in her hands. A few minutes, she only needed a few minutes to recover before rejoining the rowdy table.
    The ladies room door opened and a set of distinct footsteps echoed through the room. Peeking through the crack between the door and wall, she recognized Selene washing her hands. Francesca jumped when Selene looked directly at her through the barrier. Thankfully, she turned back to the sink and ignored Francesca. She waited a minute longer and realized she couldn’t sit in the stall forever. Eventually a break would send women flooding into the bathroom, so she reluctantly stood, flushed the toilet and came face-to-face with walking sex .
    “Hi, Francesca, right?”
    “Hi,” Francesca said, a bit embarrassed, caught in the bathroom just sitting.
    Selene dabbed at a red spot on her blouse and then looked at Francesca again.
    “You okay?”
    “Oh, yeah, I just needed a break from the group and since I don’t smoke.” She slapped her chest. “Asthma. I didn’t want to hangout in the smoking area. It’s nice in here though.”
    Now she felt silly. It was a restroom, not a lounge found in some ritzy club or hotel.
    Selene turned around and gave the room a once over. “Well, I guess I don’t need to do that remodel I was considering.” She laughed and resumed dabbing at the