Hells Gate: Santino

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Authors: Crymsyn Hart
Tags: Erótica
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an iron gateway, the same as on the postcard. Forged in metal was the name Hell’s Gate curved along the top of the opening. Flames burst high into the air from large iron pipes set next to the gate at certain intervals. Then the gate would alight as well. Every time it did, the air smelled of singed hair. April bit her lip when they paid the entrance fee and then walked into the club.
    The scent of stale cloves mingled with the sweat of the dancers. Layered on top of that was the tinge of alcohol. April tried to steer clear of the crowd mulling around the bar. A blue head of hair danced behind the bar. The bartender moved as if on fast forward the way she handed beers and other drinks to the patrons. After a moment of watching her, Cindy tugged on April’s arm, luring her deeper into the dark, foggy atmosphere. People bumped and ground against one another on a small stage at the far end of the room. New wave music with a sinister undertone blared through the speakers. The music selection wasn’t one she would add to her CD collection. Classic rock was more her kind of speed. The whole scene was so not her thing.
    The more April saw, the more she realized this wasn’t like any other club she had attended or what she had pictured. This went beyond anything that Cindy had described. People were tied up on racks in one section. Groups of onlookers gathered around the displays. They watched some being whipped. Others had feathers dragged along the expanse of their bodies. Each of them writhed from whatever was being done to them. Some were led around on leashes attached to their nipple rings. April saw one pair who had chains suspended from their lip piercings, which were attached to leashes. Some were suspended from the ceiling with ropes around their body. People were completely dressed in latex suits. In another corner, men were worshipping women’s feet. She paused and watched a handsome man crawl over, pick up the dominatrix’s boot, and lick the sides of it. April had only been familiar with this sort of thing from movies and books. The club was a smorgasbord of arcane delights for any voyeur or connoisseur of fetishes.
    Her stomach turned at the sight. But the fascination of watching another man lovingly take off a woman’s shoe, rub her feet, and then pull her big toe into his mouth to suck on it was overwhelming. It was almost like witnessing a bad accident. She couldn’t turn away. The woman’s eyes were closed and a satisfied smile plastered on her face. April wasn’t sure what the appeal was. While she watched, she felt something touch her leg. She jumped when she saw a man tracing the outline of her foot along her shoe.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He looked up from the sectioned-off area where the foot fetishists were. “But you have such beautiful feet.”
    “Umm…thanks. I think.” She tried to pull her foot away, but he held it firmly in place.
    “I mean that with all sincerity. I can always tell when a woman has adorable feet. Why don’t you step inside and I’ll show you how much I can worship them and you?”
    “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine, thanks.”
    The man frowned, showing the little lines around his eyes. “It’s such a shame. Maybe next time, when you feel a little more comfortable here. No one will do anything that you don’t want them to. If you desire a more private demonstration, there are rooms in the back and downstairs.”
    She gave him a half-smile and pulled her foot away from the stranger. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
    Cindy reappeared by her side holding a drink and a bottle of water for her. April took a swig and then observed the people on the dance floor, who were swaying to the haunting music. Cindy was right about one thing. No one cared what they looked like. This was an escape from the real world.
    “Looks like you made a friend.” Cindy waved toward the man, who was still eyeing April’s feet.
    She glanced back at the stranger

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