Fetish Series: The Masochist

In the criminal justice system, sexual-based offenses are considered especially heinous!!! But in the trap, that's just not the case!  The dedicated hustlers that extort these dummies are members of an elite squad known as GTMB. ( Get That Money Bitch) These are their stories!

LaLaBabi, NYC-- I met a real freak nigga once while I was shaking ass in New York. His name was Jon; he would take me to the VIP at Scarlette's and pay me to slap him and choke him with my thong. He told me he was a masochist and that pain turned him on. I never heard of the term before meeting him,  I just thought Jon was a little weird because I'm sure he could of went over to NJ and got slapped for free.
 I would watch him wait by the edge of the stage to pay strippers for their thongs. Later I'd catch him at the bar trying to sniff the thongs or just flat out eating them. It was a point when all the dancers would be in the dressing room complaining because they were running out of thongs to match their outfits! Girls would say, " I'm not even bout to fuck with that nigga Jon tonight. I don't even got shit that match anymore; this nigga keeps buying all my sweaty ass bottoms!” Everybody knew Jon liked his  pussy HOT, straight off the stage!

 He was only interested in the black girls at the club. I was his favorite because of my deep chocolate complexion, he was obsessed with it. He was that typical white person that act like they never saw a hair weave before. I always felt like he favored me and always choose to slap him because he felt bad about slavery. In reality, he probably just thought I was cute and it didn't have shit to do with slavery, but I still had no problem slapping the dog shit out of him because of it.

 Jon was WHITE WHITE--Damn near clear. By the time we would leave the private room he would have my handmark imprinted across his cheek, red and swollen as fuck. I didn't show any mercy on Jon either. I used to wind my shit up and try to knock his head off his shoulders. I was really using him to test at the amount of force I had, but I was always amazed by the amount of pain he was able to take. Sometimes, I would go too crazy and later feel bad like damn, I really am slapping the shit out of Jon.  But he got so turned on by this painful shit that he didn't want me to be soft with him.  

 Every time we did a dance he upped his level of freak and increased the amount of pain he took. I was really surprised by the shit he would ask me to do to him, but as long as he paid me I could beat his ass all day if that's what he wanted. One time we did a VIP, he asked me to force my underwear in his mouth like a gag and step on his balls WITH MY HEELS ON! He would be moaning in pleasure and complete agony. If I thought I was hurting him too much I would stop and ask him if he was ok but he didn't like me to stop in the middle of our sessions. He told me he would let me know when things got too painful and he needed a break. But, he never did. He just took more and more pain. 

The last time we were doing a VIP, he had a very specific request. He wanted to lay down on the floor with his erection and have me kick him, real hard, in the dick! Considering, I've been doing painful shit to Jon in the back for a while now I'm thinking shit gonna be cool. 

Well, not this time bitch! 

I'm a little tipsy, its late night and the club about to be over in 15 mins so we gotta hurry up. I had been twisting his nipples and pulling his hair before he decided to lay his ass on the nasty floor so he was already excited and slightly abused. Jon pulled his thick, pink 6-inch dick out of his pants and lay there squeezing his balls waiting anxiously for me to strike. I felt like a football player about to kick a field goal the way we were trying to line up my foot to kick him right at the shiny pink tip! The club lights came on and I knew I only had about 2 minutes before security was about to come to the VIP and end the session. Just as I draw my heel back to line it up with his penis, we heard security come towards the VIP room. 

This when shit got messy!

My initial thought is to hurry up and kick him before security walks down the hall. I probably should've double-checked that with Jon but shit just happened so fast. Just as I go to kick him, he pops his head up and catches my entire heel at full force to his face!Jon is stretched cleanout, bleeding from his nose, on the floor with his dick out and security is just a few steps away. 

I rush to the floor to check him and this nigga Jon is DONE UP! Now I'm scared,  thinking I probably killed him because he got kicked really hard right in-between his eyes and his nose is bleeding. When I bent down to try and put his dick back inside of his pants, that's when security rolled up on me with the flashlight. I could see his silhouette in the curtain. 

"Yo, club close, yall gotta hurry up." I could tell from his tone that he didn't look into the curtain or he would've seen Jon half-dead on the floor with his dick out. 

"Ok, we're coming out now." I tried to keep my calm but I was panicking! I attempt to stand him up but he's too heavy. I know I'm gonna have to get some help from security, but I didn't get paid for my dance, so before I call anybody I gotta go in his pocket and get my money. Luckily his wallet is not hard to find, I just picked it out of his jacket. I go to reach inside and grab a $100 bill, when I hear, "What happened to him?"

I turn around and the club owner Paul is at the curtain with all of the security team. I tried to drop the wallet but it was too late. I was caught already. He snatched the money out of my hand and demanded an explanation. 

 "What the Fuck happened to him! He's Bleeding!" 

"He's drunk, he slipped and fell I was trying to get him up," I explained.

They drag him out of the room into the light and shit just continued to go downhill!

"Oh My God! What did you do to him! Look at his face!!!!!!!" I had never seen Paul so mad.  "I'm about to go look at the cameras and you're going the fuck to  jail!" The owner was screaming at the top of his lungs. Now all the other dancers and few lingering customers are crowding around being noisy. I was so embarrassed. A few dancers were trying to come to my defense saying, " He always be paying people to slap him. He like that shit, she telling the truth!"

Paul wasn't off it. He was still going off on my ass! " The VIP is for private dances! Not for you to beat up on the customers! I don't give a shit what makes his little dick hard! You tell him to go somewhere else if he wants to get the shit beat out of him! We sell dances here! You're not a fucking MMA fighter, you're a stripper! These rooms are for stripping! What the fuck am I going to tell the medics?! Huh? I gotta drunk and bloody beat up white guy unconscious in MY club! How you think that's gonna look on me, LaLa?!" He was fuming at this point, his whole face was completely red! 

"I'm sorry!" I really wasn't sorry, but I didn't know what else to say! I had been doing these types of privates with Jon for a while and nothing like this has ever happened! 

"You got 5 minutes to get the fuck out, the police are on the way. Make sure you go in the back and take all of your shit out of my locker. Don't even think about coming back to my club; you're fired." 

I couldn't even argue with Paul, he was absolutely right. I was grateful he was allowing me some time to slide before the cops came. I had a warrant so I really wasn't trying to stick around and get arrested over Jon dumbass! I got my shit and got out of there so fast; I never went back to that club again! I did run into Jon at a few different clubs in the city, but after that situation, I never did another private dance with him again. I couldn't afford to get embarrassed and put out of a new club fucking with Jon. He didn't mind, Jon had him a new chocolate thang that was slapping the shit out of him now. 

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