A slut is made to explore her darker fantasy in a nightclub

“Remove your dress,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the music emitting from the busy nightclub two doors out – the door leading into the men’s room and the door to the graffiti painted stall in which we were both cramped together at the moment. He was sitting down on the seat of the dubiously clean toilet while I awkwardly stood in front of him, halfway pressed against his legs and the closed door. Every now and then the sound would expand briefly as someone entered, the noise from the background dulling but not quite shutting out the sound of zippers being pulled down, casual small talk when acquaintances met, and streams of piss hitting the ceramic urinals lined up on the wall across from the stall we were occupying. It was one of those busy Saturdays in the beginning of November, paychecks had just been cashed in and the masses seeking shelter from the cold were absolutely wankered or well on their way to be, each attempting to empty his wallet sooner than their companions.

Not for the first time I wished I had been one of those limber petite girls for whom maneuvering in such a small space would have been considered child’s play, but unfortunately, I was neither limber nor petite. Then again, while my 5’11 frame would make it difficult for me to kneel and pleasure him in such a tight space, however tempting the thought, I was sure my long legs would prove useful if he was inclined to let me ride him in here, the muscles bulging under his tight white t-shirt left me little doubt that he could handle the weight of my curvy body. I knew for a fact that he was infatuated with my fat ass and thighs and how they rippled in wave-like motions when he spanked them and slammed into me from behind, leaving them red and, if he had any say in the matter which he always did, marked for weeks to come. Just as he loved the way my 36E Cups barely fit into his hands when he squeezed them and used my wooden hairbrush to leave bruises all over them.

Although I myself had no strong feelings about my boobs or even my figure in general, I did appreciate the fact that despite their size and the slight downward tilt of my nipples, my boobs still stood perfectly round on their own. My own appreciation was of course mainly practical as I despised bras. To me, lingerie is something you wear for the sole reason of having it ripped off, not something I care to be dependent on in everyday life or, as it happened, today. Finally, although envious of girls with that gap between their thighs that I’ll never achieve no matter the diet, the way my hourglass figure extenuated my waist, making it seem tiny in comparison seemed like a fair trade for a bit of curve on the side. “It is the perfect body for rope and whips, why would I have anything less?” – as he used to say.

“Now slut,” he continued, pinching my nipple through my dress and twisting it harshly and smiling as I winced in pain, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through my body accompanied by that all too familiar throb between my legs. He knows I have a thing for being fucked in dirty humiliating ways in sleazy places. Without reservations I easily slid my dress over my head in one swift motion, leaving me naked but for my 5′ glittering stilettos. As a proper slut, I had left my underwear at home as he instructed.

“That’s my good little whore, obedient as always” His eyes narrowed as if to take in every detail of the sight before him and I stifled a longing moan as my nipples hardened merely from the weight of his gaze.

My shivers increased as he looked me over like a piece of property, my hands behind my back and my legs parted to give him free access when he ran his hands up my thighs and over my mound, barely even touching, which was much more intense than if he’d just grabbed me and forced his fingers inside of me, the anticipation was unbearable and it was all that I could do to stand still, biting my lower lip in an attempt not to moan, my clit throbbing as every touch made me squirm.

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I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through his blonde styled hair and mess it up, I wanted to pull him towards me and kiss him deeply, oh God, I wanted to be impaled on him and beg for mercy and let everyone in the club hear.

Instead, I waited.

His confidence overpowering me, trapped by his completely unwavering knowledge that he owned me. I moaned as he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, one puddle inducing link at a time, bending inside of me and reaching that one special spot that makes my pussy gush uncontrollably.

“Please!” I begged him weakly, as he scratched the inside of my walls “Please Sir!” Begging a boy, no, man four years my junior, only 22, with that sense of invincibility that only a guy in his 20’es can possess. All consuming.

He looked up at me and smirked, ‘such a control freak,’ I thought, ‘but then, what does that make me?’ My mind dark humoredly continued without my permission. It was his main drive: Total control, and for that, from me, total surrender.

“Please what, whore?” He asked with an evil glint in his eyes.

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“Please let me please you too!” I pleaded. I couldn’t cum yet, If I did I’d be done for, my last bit of independence lost.

“Aah!” I moaned and my knees buckled under me, as he suddenly ripped his finger out, making me fall to the floor as he left my dripping pussy empty and aching. He lifted his hand to my face and I eagerly began sucking his fingers as he fed them to me, tasting my own sour yet sweet juices on him. He grabbed hold of my blonde hair which was just below shoulder length, and pulled my head back with his free hand while pushing first two, then three fingers down my throat and held me still. He obviously enjoyed making me fight my gag-reflex as he shoved them all the way in and held them there while I tried my utmost not to fight it even as tears welled up in my eyes, juices dripping down my thighs.

Why wouldn’t he let me touch him? I needed it.

“Enjoying the treat, slut?” He asked, moving his face towards mine, gently licking the tears from my eyes.

“Mmmngh ye-nng aarh -” He laughed as I struggled to reply, making no attempt to ease my efforts.

“Not quite fair of me to ask you when you’re like this, but I think I get your gist.

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“Anyhow, I know you want to please me, but today isn’t about pleasing me. Well, at least not in the way your dirty little mind is thinking. You know how I love to make you hate me, will you let me do that again tonight?”

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