Climax Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Epilogue

  Special Note

  About Sexxa

  Dominate

  Acknowledgements

  Playlist

  Climax

  by Sexxa Kohl

  © 2014 Sexxa Kohl All rights reserved

  DISCLAIMER

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including mechanical photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  ISBN-13: 978-1495947735

  Editor: Indie Express LLC

  Cover Rights © MGCover Design

  Published by Sexxa Kohl

  To my sexy husband… My Master,

  My body and soul are forever enslaved to you! I love you more than you will ever know. I look forward to many more years of being spanked by you.

  -Sexxa

  “Erotic passion lies enslaved within all of our souls. Never be afraid to unleash it!”

  - Sexxa Kohl

  “Sex is a part of nature. I go along with nature.”

  -Marilyn Monroe

  “A dirty book is rarely dusty.”

  ~Author Unknown

  If asked what I thought I would be doing at twenty-two, it certainly wouldn’t be taking my clothes off for complete strangers. The world looks at me as both a whore and a worthless piece of trash, even though I only work here to pay for my mother’s medical bills. No one would believe that I am still a virgin, waiting to find love. I can easily say that I don’t think love is ever going to be finding me here at Club Climax.

  As I stare out over the crowd, I give them what they want. For the next three and a half minutes of this song, I dance, undress, shake my ass, and slide up and down the metal pole in front of me. I control everything I do while I am up here on this stage. That is how it works at this place; I make the rules. That is, of course, except the room in the far back known as Ultimate Climax. All power is surrendered and lost there. I have promised myself that I will never go back there, no matter how desperate I get. The price is too high for me; I refuse to sell myself to the highest bidder. I cannot afford to lose the only thing I have left. My control.

  There comes a time when we have to do the things that we said we would never do. For me, that day has finally arrived.

  As I grab the handle of the door, I pause to take a deep breath. Once I walk through that door, my whole life will forever change. I will give up everything, and I pray that when I leave, I will have something left of myself.

  Blaire

  Rihanna’s “Pour it Up” blares through the speakers of the room as I rock my body against the steel pole. The heavy bass pumps and blends with the loud catcalls and whistles of drunken men. I despise being here. Shutting my eyes, I close myself off to tune out their remarks. I have to. If I don’t, I will end up running off this stage right now and hurling. After six months of doing this four times a week, a person should be used to it by now. But, I’m not. I will be damned if I ever let myself get used to this life.

  As I said, you will find me here at least four nights a week. From eight o’clock at night until three o’clock in the morning, I’m known as Raven. Of course, Raven is just my stage name, but it fits me perfect when you consider my long, wavy ebony hair that I’d been blessed to inherit from my mom. No one here knows that my real name is Blaire Michaels, and I want to keep it that way. I’ve made nice with a couple of the girls that work here, but for the most part, I keep to myself. I deal with this shit a lot better that way.

  At this place, friendships are virtually impossible, not to mention that it’s too competitive. The girls here don’t exactly like the fact that I am a crowd favorite. The only girl I really talk to is named Honey. As much as I want to know about the pain that I see in her eyes, I don’t ask. She is the first one I met when I came to this club. She taught me the ropes and has never once acted as though I owe her anything. I wish we could be closer, but it’s just not possible. Every little thing about working at Club Climax is based on half-truths and deceptive reality. I don’t think anything good can actually come from that.

  Once I walk out those back employee entrance doors, I switch back to Blaire Michaels, twenty-two-year old virgin, college drop out. Yes, I know what you are thinking. How can I be a virgin and a stripper? Well, believe it or not, I keep both my worlds private. It’s a double-edged sword, really. Blaire and Raven both share pain either way they turn.

  Don’t judge me for what I do. My life might be easier to understand if I explain why I do this in the first place. My mom’s mounting medical bills have forced me into this world.

  Twelve years ago, she was diagnosed with mitral valve prolapse. Over the years, her condition has only worsened. A major episode with her heart last year forced her to stop working and stay at home.

  Since the day my dad walked out on us when I was eight, it has been just her and me against the world. With no one else to care for her, I chose to drop out of college in the middle of my senior year to come help. Despite her pleas for me to finish school, I could never go back when she so desperately needed me here.

  When I got home, how badly things had gotten out of hand for her both financially and physically surprised me. Bills were mounting up, and I found out that she had chosen to pay things like the light bill instead of buying her heart medications. Her little disability check received each month barely covered basic expenses, let alone medicines and food. She simply could not do this on her own.

  No matter how many jobs I took, or how many hours I spent working, I never seemed to get us caught up. Last spring, the bank foreclosed on the only home I had ever known. When I looked around here for places to rent, I quickly found there were no decent places that I could afford. I needed to find a way to make some money fast because my bartending & waitressing jobs were not going to cut it. A flyer posted on our board at the bar where I worked led me here to Club Climax.

  I will never forget the first time I walked into Club Climax. Immediately upon entering, it both thrilled and disgusted me. Seeing the way the girl moved on stage was erotic, but watching the way the men behaved when she glided up and down that pole in front of them disgusted me. When her performance was over, and I saw how much money she scooped up off the floor, I realized I had to bury my fears and do this. I had no other choice.

  Who would have known on the day I started doing this that I’d be such
a natural at it? Standing at five feet ten, I have all the voluptuous curves in just the right places. Add in my long, tone legs, and a very busty top and I more than pass the criteria for getting a job at this kind of place. Here at the club, I flaunt my beauty and assets, but when I walk out that door and back into Blaire’s world, I’m as shy, self-conscious, and quiet as it comes. No one would ever know how hard this is for me to pretend to be something that I am not. It seems I have an on and off switch that I can flip in order to change whom I need to be for my basic survival.

  I know exactly what men want when I am performing, and nothing will stop me from giving it to them. I work the stage, tempting them as I slowly strip and grind my body against the steel pole. They beg to see my ass, so I turn around and bend over, giving them a clear view of my black thong as I continue removing the tight shorts from my body. Whistles increase in volume and dollar bills fly up on stage. Scanning the floor, I quickly assess how much is there before I give them any more.

  Shit! Only about fifty bucks.

  Needing to kick it up a notch, I turn around, lean back against the pole, and shimmy down to the floor. Once I am on my knees, I crawl down the center of the stage where no one can reach or touch me. With each slow movement, my tits bounce up and down but remain tightly shoved and restrained in my corset. Near the edge of the stage, I shake my ass and my chest before sitting upright and lifting my long hair up above my head. Green bills fly around me as I spread my legs open and lean back onto the cold floor.

  I fucking swear that if I hear, “Yeah, Baby,” one more time, I am going to kill someone!

  I stand and strut over to the pole. This part is what I hate and dread the most, the part where I give them everything I have. With my back to the crowd, I turn and arch my back against the pole while I unfasten the clasp in the front. With one forceful tug, I am free and thoroughly exposed. I drop the black corset on the floor and cover my breasts with my arm. The crowd goes wild as I prepare for my finale. Bass pumps in the speakers as loudly as my heart does in my chest.

  You can do this, Blaire. You have to.

  I wait for the perfect moment in the song, and then I spin around and drop my hand, baring everything to them. Green bills fly everywhere when I jump up to grab hold of the pole. I grind my crotch against the metal seductively as I climb high above the audience. I hold on tightly while I extend my legs out in a spread eagle position. Dirty, raunchy comments reach my ears even from all the way up here. Leaning backwards, I maneuver myself upside down and perform the crowd’s favorite death drop. Every time I do this, it scares the shit out of me. I have learned the move by watching a lot of videos on pole dancing and visiting other clubs in my spare time. No one else here at Club Climax does it.

  I flip my body over and touch my heels to the stage to stand. With perfect timing, the music ends just as I place my hands on my hips. The crowd is standing and continues to throw money at me while the announcer’s voice echoes throughout the club’s PA system.

  “LET’S HEAR IT FOR OUR BABY GIRL … R-A-V-E-N!”

  I reach down and scoop up my money while the bouncers guard the stage around me. Normally, I would never dare a glimpse out at anyone in the room, but tonight, for some unknown reason, I am drawn to do so.

  I can’t explain it. It is a feeling of need and desire mixed with an electrical wave of energy. Like a magnet, his glare immediately pulls me to him. I hold the money against my chest and can’t move. My chest hurts as if the breath has just been sucked out of me. Honey is grinding her ass into his lap while he tightly grips her hips, but his eyes are firmly glued to mine. Regardless of his devastatingly handsome face, the fact he is here in this club tells me everything I need to know. Men like him are nothing but trouble; they use girls like Honey and me as if we are disposable garbage.

  His heated eyes seductively travel down my body to my legs and then back up to my eyes. Fucking hell, how does he do that to me with just those dark eyes? Feeling the heat rise to my face, I break our intense stare and look down at the steps to exit the stage. Daring one last look into his dark blazing eyes, I discover something I don’t want to know about myself. I like the lustful way he looks at me. That’s too dangerous; it can bring nothing but more trouble and heartbreak into my already troubled and broken life.

  Jaxxon

  I don’t normally come into places like this, but for some reason, I am drawn here tonight. Finding a woman is never hard for a guy like me. I’m extremely good looking, in great shape, and more than blessed in size if you know what I mean. I’ve fucked more women than most guys could ever dream about. Of course, it doesn’t hurt matters that I have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes, family money earned by my Grandfather who designed and engineered one of the first artificial hearts. Ryder Technology is well known across the world for providing some of the most highly advanced products in the health care world today. It is a billion dollar industry, and our family has done quite well in conquering it over the years. I have grown up in luxury you wouldn’t believe.

  Women are like vultures when they smell that you have money. They like the shopping sprees, luxurious vacations, fancy cars, and jewelry. It’s become an acquired taste to my lifestyle, and I hate when woman become possessive of me. When I am done, I am done. I’m not into loving relationships, and I’m sure as fuck not ever marrying anyone. The entire concept of marriage is a joke. The idea of having just one pussy for the rest of my life makes me laugh. My own parents have been married for twenty-seven years, and both have fucked around since the day they said, “I do”! I admire loyalty and commitment, but I like to decide when that begins and ends. That is why I prefer Dominant/submissive relationships over random fucking, but when the need hits, I will choose a quick, meaningless fuck any day to temporarily feed my desire.

  That’s part of the reason I am here. Club Climax offers me the ability to mix both BDSM and random fucking. Tonight I need both of those things.

  The term making love always makes me laugh. There is no need to involve romance in sex. Sex. Fucking. They are both the same. Sex is supposed to be hard, fast, and raw. Why would anyone want to take his time and be slow and sweet? There is no reason to consider the other person’s feelings. I admit it. I am a selfish creature. I only care about my own pleasure, my own gain.

  I take what I want.

  I take what I need.

  Control.

  I need this way of life. To me, it’s as vital as breathing. Something about the way a woman totally yields her power drives me absolutely insane with a ruthless hunger that desperately needs to be fed. It’s insatiable. I demand everything from them; they will get nothing from me in return. Even their pleasure is mine to decide. The fate is held in my hands.

  Darkness fills my soul. I am cold, callous, and evil.

  I don’t love.

  I don’t care.

  It’s the man I am. It’s whom I have been made to become. I decide whom I bring into my life; I decide how long they stay there.

  Growing up, I never had control, and I certainly never had a voice in anything. I saw how my father treated people around him. I wanted people to look at me the way he demanded them to look at him. Maybe then, he’d see the imaginary boy who begged his whole life to be seen.

  Even at an early age, our maids and assistants frequented my bedroom. I treated them with just as much disrespect as my father showed me. It only made me ravenous for more. An early taste of BDSM opened my eyes to a world where only I rule.

  There is no room in my world for anyone.

  I don’t need anyone to care for me.

  The Ultimate Climax room is legendary around here. It comes at a hefty price, but money is not an issue with me. Places like this allow me to get my fix without worries of attachment. These women aren’t clingy; they can’t be. It’s business for them, pure and simple. You give them the money, and they give you their time. I both like and respect them for it, regardless of the fact that most of these women have fucked half the town.


  I walk inside and see the sly smiles of the girls as they turn to face my way. I will say that most of the girls here are pretty fucking hot. Whistles and screams fill the room, along with loud music that blares around me. Spotting an open table up ahead, I glimpse the seductive movement of a girl in the background. I don’t even look at her at first because I am too busy looking for my hookup for the night. I spot a hot brunette eyeing me as she pulls on a sucker in her mouth. She makes her way over and stands in front of me, fully blocking my view of the stage. I don’t honestly care. If you’ve seen one pole dance, you’ve seen them all, right?

  “Welcome to Club Climax, I’m Honey. Can I get you a drink, or perhaps you’d like a dance?” she says in a sexy southern accent. She returns the sucker in her mouth and rolls it around, tightly sucking in her cheeks.

  Fuck, she is hot!

  “I’ll have both. Whiskey’s fine.” I throw a fifty at her.

  She picks up the money, leaves to get my drink, and twisting her sumptuous ass to the bar, leans in to give the bartender my order. My cock pushes hard against my zipper, so I move to adjust my pants.

  Yeah, she might be just what I need tonight.

  Suddenly, the crowd goes crazy, and my attention leaves Honey as I turn to look at the stage.

  Holy fucking hell!

  A goddess is now standing before me. Her long, black waves cascade down her shoulders and frame her beautiful face. Her huge tits bounce free from her hold when she drops her hands and shows the crowd. Her hourglass figure sports a perfectly flat, toned tummy and slim waist. Black stilettos only make her long luscious legs look even longer, leading up to her perfectly sinful, round ass.

  SWEET JESUS!

  My cock throbs in my pants when she pushes her ass into the steel pole. It’s as if I can already feel her hot pussy folds sliding up and down on my shaft. Mesmerized, I watch her climb the metal pole up high into the air. Her strong arms hold her in place while she opens her legs wide into the splits, giving the crowd a glimpse of the tiny fabric covering her opening.