♥ I Make Men Scream My Name [vs. Proctor III]

[Arianny DeLise]

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Shockingly enough, if you Google BDSM clubs in San Francisco, quite a few pop up. With Neville Proctor being the type of man who insists on keeping a sex slave, the SF Citadel seemed like the type of place he would frequent. At least that was what Arianny Blake was banking on as she pulled Dallas' Aston Martin into the parking lot. For whatever reason, our beautiful blond champion had decided to seek Proctor out before their Vendetta clash and short of a psych ward, this was the only place that seemed like a logical hangout for him.

Arianny stepped out of the vehicle dressed like a mistress because she planned to make Neville her bitch. Black leather bootie shorts, thigh high boots, and a black leather corset was her outfit of choice for tonight. Her blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she was carrying a riding crop in her left hand. She looked like a total smoke show and knew it.

"Neville Proctor, you are an interesting one," Arianny mused as she sauntered up to the entrance of the club. "You think you're an actual god and you've managed to brainwash a bunch of freaks into worshiping you. Like, I get it. Your body is nice. Your dick is average. You have nice eyes. I can see why those less fortunate than myself would want you to guide them. But for all the positives, there's just one glaring negative. You seem convinced you're going to be able to defeat me. You think that because I'm small, I'm weak. You think that because you're big, you're strong. But in my experience, the bigger they are, the harder they fall, and trust me when I say you’ll be no different.”

Arianny stopped and turned to face the camera. She ran her tongue across her scarlet colored lips and smirked.

“You’re not special. You’re not a god. You’re slow, driven by your ego, and weak when it comes to playing defense. My quickness is my strength and above everything else, I’m smarter than you. I can out think you, outlast you, and most importantly, I can and will submit you. There is no other way this match will end.”

Arianny seductively gazed into the camera and traced her tongue down the riding crop.

“Neville, I will NEVER get on my knees and worship you in any type of way. It will be the other way around. The only thing is, you have to prove yourself worthy enough to be my servant. You have to show me just how strong and powerful you are. I don't like weak and stupid men. So please bring your 'A' game. I enjoy making men scream my name; especially ones who lack respect and don't treat me as a threat. I hope that you’re inside that club because why wait for Thursday night? You gave me a preview of how you think the match will go. I am willing to personally show you what fate has in store come Thursday.”

Arianny winked and started walking towards the entrance of SF Citadel again. At the door, a man clad from head to toe in black bondage gear was checking IDs. Instead of standing in line, Arianny pushed past everyone and started to go inside. She was quickly stopped.

“I.D. please.”

“I’m Arianny Blake. I’m on the list.”

She wasn’t on the list and this man knew that. He simply folded his arms across his chest.

“She’s with me.”

A stranger’s hand touched her elbow and Arianny instinctively went to jerk away. When she did, she gazed up into the most handsome, gorgeous face she had ever seen. “Like, actually…”

The mystery man smirked at her and the bouncer nodded. “Very well, Mr. V’ant Hoff. My apologies to your guest."

Before Arianny could give the doorman a triumphant look, she was whisked inside the club by this Mr. V'ant Hoff and pulled into a corner. His hands grabbed her hips and his eyes gave her an appreciative look. "You might just be the sexiest little thing I have ever seen at this place." Arianny smiled sweetly and placed her riding crop on his chest. "I'm pretty sure I'm also the most deadly."

V'ant Hoff took the hint and backed off, putting space between the two of them. But he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. "I don't mind a challenge."

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