Dancing in the dark

The beat is rhythmic, sensual. The music in the club fills my senses as I sway against you. You love to dance with me. Holding me tightly to you, your
leg intrudes between mine and you thrust against me rocking my body against the hard incursion of your thigh with one hand on my hip the other and firm, at the small of my back.

The club is heaving. Hot, humid a seething mass of people: crushed together, gyrating, singly, in couples, in larger groups of three, four and more; bodies close pressed, entangled, thrusting, thrashing, touching; hands
exploring, mouths joined in passion.

My top sticks to my sweat drenched body. My shin is flushed, my breath short. My heart races. There is more to my feverish state than simply the dancing.

I tremble in your arms. My core is hot, wet, pulsing in contact with your thigh. My panties are sodden with my arousal as my hips buck in need against you.

I sigh as your mouth lifts from the soft flesh at the junction of my jaw and neck. My blood flutters at the pulse-point as your tongue washes over the mark you have raised.

“Rain baby.” Your voice is husky, breathless, sensual but oh so dominant, commanding.

My face rises for my eyes to meet yours. My breath catches in my throat.
Your eyes are dark, lust filled: pools of hunger. I am unable to form words as I ride against your thrusting thigh.

“Mmmmm…” I groan softly.

“Rain…got to have you...got to fuck you baby…got to fuck you now.”

“Mmmmm…”

You continue to rock me against, driving me on to a place where I’m unable to do anything but comply.

Your words are hungry, almost rough in my ear.

“You want me to fuck you baby?”

Again I mumble against you.

It’s not enough for you. Your words are demanding as you seek a clearer response.

“Tell me baby. You want me to fuck you?”

Your hand drops to my ass, clutching me, drawing me sharply forward against
you.

“Ahhh…yeahsss pleassse Hana… fuck me.”

“Good girl Rain.”

I whimper slightly as you release me, removing the insistent, delicious pressure between my legs.

“Come on baby.”

You lead me through the crazed throng of bodies to the dark booth. The settee curves around the booth forming a low u-shape. We fall into it and your mouth finds mine. Hungry, demanding your tongue forces its way between my lips to swirl inside. Dueling with mine, you drive it conquering, into me, probing, exploring my mouth.

I subside into your arms at the passionate fury of your kiss.

Your hand traces a course from my jaw, down my neck to begin a slow journey of exploration of my breasts. You skirt around them, gently at first,
caressing my curves, testing their weight, before your grasp becomes more insistent as you claim their taut, puckered tips.

I moan softly into your mouth as you squeeze and pinch one stiffened point, then the other through the flimsy material of my top and brassiere, tweaking their already responsive erections to peaks uttiutting, achingly sensitive flesh.

You release my nipples and your hand travels lower to find the exposed flesh of my midriff below the edge of my short halter top. I shiver as your nails scratch lightly at my abdomen, dipping into the niche of my belly button, before they move down my belly towards the centre of my need.

You break off from the kiss long enough to stare into my eyes. Your hand
presses hard, through my clothes, onto my core. I writhe against you as you
stroke my liquid cunt through the layers.

“Gonna fuck you here Rain. Now!”

My eyes bulge but I am powerless to resist your will as your hand reaches
under my skirt, to roam up my leg, your nails scoring gently on the tender
flesh of my inner thigh. Your hand draws my skirt up my thighs as you search
for my centre.

I groan as your fingers stroke over the crotch of my pantiesenchenched with
my secretions, clinging tautly to my swollen, tender lips, your hand roams
over them, tracing the shape of my vulva, probing subtly into the wetness
they contain. I tremble again at your intimate touch.

Your voice is sultry, thick with desire in my ear.

“Take them off baby.”

I hesitate, unsure, torn between need and reticence.

Your grasp at my waist tightens whilst your hand, between my legs, slips
inside the wet scrap of satin that is my panties to ease within the folds of
my labia and into the well of my cunt.

I gasp as your fingers swim over my lush inner flesh.

“What are you bab
“
“Yours.” I mumble.

“My what baby?”

“Your…your slave.”

“So who am I baby?”

“M-m-m-Mistress” I gasp, hardly able to speak as you enter me, raiding
inside the tension of my slick velvet passage.

“Good girl Rain…so when I tell you to do something…what do you do baby?”

“O-obey.”

“That’s right baby.”

You repeat your earlier command but your voice is firmer, sterner. I quake,
melting, gushing against your hand, at the authority of your tone.

“Take them off Rain.”

Hesitant still, I reach to comply. Trying vainly to preserve my modesty I
reach under my skirt and lift my hips to slide the satin thong past my
buttocks to my thighs and then to my knees from where it falls to my feet.

Lifting my feet, you reach to recover the sodden wisp of my thond pnd place
it on the booth table before us.

Turning to me again your new command leaves me shocked once more.

“Lift your skirt Rain.”

Again I waver. Your eyebrow arches. You trace your fingers over my lips. I
can taste myself on them.

“You want me to fuck you Rain?”

“Yuh-yess. Oh yes Hana.”

“Mistress…” You correct me gently, firmly. Your fingers, seasoned with my
musk, are in my mouth, probing gently.

“Mmmmm…sorry, Mistress.” I softly reply around your fingers.

“So are you going to obey, Rain?”

“Mmmm…y-yes Mistress.”

“Good girl pet.”

I reach for my long flowing skirt to draw it up, slowly revealing my legs.

“All the way pet.” Your voice urges in my ear.

I raise my skirt to my hips exposing myself to any who might look into our
darkened recess.

“Mmmmm…good girl.” You murmur in my ear. Your hand insinuates itself between
my thighs again to flutter over my clitoris. I moan softly as my core
responds to your touch. “Now, spread your legs baby.”

Sensing my hesitation your next words are harsher.

“Now girl!”

I flinch, whimpering. Your hand leaves my nubbin to sting the top my thigh
striking twice, sharply.

The pain cuts through my bashfulness and hurriedly I comply, lifting my left
leg to rest it on the curved settee. My right swings towards you.

“That’s better baby.”

Your hand is gentle again as it retraces its earlier course to my centre.
Your tongue finds my ear as your fingers open me to slide into my wetness.

I close my eyes sighing as you enter me. My hips buck slightly against you
as you spread my lips to explore again the inner contours of my womanhood.

“Wait pet.” breabreathe in my ear. Your tongue continues to delve; a
reflection of the actions of your fingers.

“Wait pet.” You repeat as I groan aloud in response to the flick of your
thumb over my clit.

“Nnnnahhh!” My moaning sigh is louder, as, without releasing the pressure on my button, your skilful fingers dip lower to penetrate again into the
innermost entry to my core.

“You like that baby?” You question in response to my gasp.

I can hardly speak to reply as I ooze around your persistent fingers when
they start to ease slowly in and out of me.

“Mmmmmm…yuh-yuh-yessss…” My mouth labors to form the words.

Your hand moves faster now, plunging deeper into me, stroking harder the
muscle walls of my womanhood.

Your words are hot, breathless in my ear.

“You like it when I fuck you don’t you baby?”

“I-uh-yesss…”

“I want to hear you say it pet…”

The words tumble from me, almost without my willing it.

“I-I like it wh-when you fuck me…m-m-mistress.”

“Mmm…good girl pet.”

I feel ready to faint as you slide another finger into me.

Your thumb grazes harder on my nubbin and my hips buck again. My throat
makes small pleading noises: the cries of a tiny, desperate creature, of
cornered prey.

“You want to come pet?”

“Ohhhh…oh yes mistress.”

Your voice is torment in my ear; your hand torture in my cunt.

“Tell me pet.”

“Ohhh pur-please mistress. Please let me come.” I plead for my release,
breathless, desperate.

Your hand continues to pump inside me ravishing the supple, taut muscles of
my core.

“Open your eyes pet.”

My eyes open languidly to reveal a blurred, semi-dark world of writhing,
twisting forms.

“You’ve got an audience.”

Reality swims slowly into focus as you continue to fuck me.

On the dance floor before me are three dark haired girls. Statuesque,
strongly feminine, their beauty makes me ache. Their eyes are fastened on us. On me. Facing us they dance close together, their bodies held tight against each other. Their hips grind against each other as hands drift over buttocks, breasts, dipping between thighs to caress and fondle.

My eyes are held by them.

Their gaze is hungry, burning with lust, turning my shame to wanton abandon
as I give myself to you, riding your hand.

“I think they want to see you coming baby…come baby…come now.”

I spread myself wider, thrusting myself down onto you, and under their
watchful hunger I follow your urging

Your voice is insistent in my ear.

“Come on. Show them baby. Show them how you come.”

My head snaps back as I begin to crest wildly.

My muscles tighten hard around you, clamping your thrusting digits inside
me. I can feel every detail, every ridge of every knuckle as you drive me
on. My hips pound against you as I scream silently at the wave of energy
that sweeps over me overwhelming me, inundating me in its raw untamed power.

My heart races as my body hurtles on its own course. I milk your fingers,
suckling fiercely at them. My legs kick slightly, my ass bouncing on the
fabric beneath me as I spasm. The surge of fire burns though me leaving me gasping, breathless, head hanging in exhaustion as it crests and begins to subside.

Your fingers continue to softly stroke my inner being as you thumb my clit,
dragging the aftershocks of my climax on and on as I plunge ever deeper into ecstatic oblivion.

Eventually I calm and am able to think again.

“I think you made an impression Rain.” You nod toward the three watchers.

They dance still, but now aligned. Two of them hold each other close, their
mouths joined, tongues plunged hungrily inside. The third is taller than the
others, perhaps older by a couple of years. Her breasts are large and full,
barely contained by the tight silk shirt that she wears tied off to leave her belly bare. She is tightly snuggled against the smallest one sandwiching
her between them. Her hips thrusting against tautly curved buttocks, her
breasts are crushed to the naked back of the middle companion. Her mouth
suckles beneath the raven hair-line at the smooth skinned neck, her tongue
tracing the dark lines of the tattoo. Her hands reach around and between the
others, to move rhythmically between their thighs. A third hand – I cannot
see who’s – works similarly on her.

You turn my face towards you to claim my lips.

“Mmmm.” You sigh into my mouth. Your tongue is hot and insistent.

“…Mmmm…I’ve not finished with you yet.”

I look up into the dark pools of your eyes.

You break the kiss and, nodding to the dance-floor, whisper in my ear:

“Why don’t you watch the floor show while I get the coats?”

As I turn to watch the three women your hand dips again in to my centre. I
gasp as it roams within me, coating itself with my sap before you get up to
leave.

“Don’t move baby…”

I lie in the booth; my skirt still raised, my legs parted wide, revealing
myself to any who wish to see. I watch the dancers. The middle one, perhaps
the youngest, now has her jeans opened, allowing the one she kisses to
finger her deeply. The one behind, her skirt raised, squirms on the searching hand of the second as she reaches behind her to probe inside a
tiny scrap of underwear. The first rides on the third, whose hand reaches
under her skirt to fuck her.

The eroticism of the scene sets my heart racing again. My cunt pulses
hungrily as my hand reaches to touch my throbbing clit.

They watch through lidded eyes as you approach them. My heart twinges
jealously. Your hand rises to waft beneath their noses. My breath catches.
My eyes follow your fingers to the third for you to paint her lips with my juices. She quirks an eyebrow as you share a few words before your mouths
meet. Your tongues entwine hungrily and I groan; my emotions divided between jealousy and the intensity of my lust. My fingers play over my clit as the second woman raises your fingers to her mouth to suckle them, cleaning them of my liquor.

Momentarily you enter their embrace. Their hands roam over the perfection of your slender body, finding your nipples, caressing your face, easing between your legs to stroke over your crotch exploring every nook, before you ease yourself free. A few more words are shared and you turn to me smiling before heading for the coat-check. Their eyes follow yours. I continue to pinch at my bud, working it, the lewd nature of my display forgotten as, swaying still in time to the beat, eyes fixed on me, their hands return to their ministrations.

My climax approaches again as you return. You watch momentarily as I
pleasure myself, before your hand reaches to stop me.

“Not yet pet. You have to earn the next one baby.”

“Mmm?” I moan in soft complaint.

Your hand draws me to my feet and my skirt falls to cover me. Your hand is
firm, imperious at the base of my skull. I quake at your next words.

“I’m going to spank you now pet.”

My knuckle rises to my mouth in fear.

“B-but…”

“But what pet?”

I have no reply and you continue.

“What are you pet?”

“Y-yours.” My words are exhaled, breathless.

“My what Rain?”

Your words hold me unrelenting, demanding, remorseless.

I would whisper my reply but the music pounds and I speak clearly, repeating
the familiar refrain: “Your slave, mistress.”

“Good girl…and what does that mean pet?”

“I have to obey mistress.”

“And what else pet?”

”That I belong to you mistress.”

“And what does that mean Rain?”

Your questions are spoken softly; you make it all so reasonable.

“That you can do what you want with me mistress.”

“Good girl. So now I want to take you outside and spank you pet.”

My resistance over, my head bows in supplicant acceptance.

The club is a blur as we leave it. I hardly see you pick up my panties to
drop them into the outstretched hand of third, dark-haired woman.

The next thing I’m aware of is the darkness of the alley beside the club. At
the end is a bare brick wall. Beside us is the fire exit. From beyond it I
can hear the dull thump of the bass beat.

You are close behind me, your body pressed against mine. Your groin humps
softly against my buttocks in time to the music. Your hands roam my body,
caressing my breasts, teasing my nipples, squeezing again at my core.

Your hands find the fastenings of my skirt and it falls to the floor, leaving my lower body naked in the chill evening air. It is cool over the still heated flesh of my womanhood.

One of your hands renews its exploration of my aching wetness. The other
fondles the cheeks of my ass, palming it, pinching it, caressing, squeezing.

Your voice is low against my ear.

“Mmm…nice ass baby.”

I moan softly against you as your hands caress me. The butterflies in the
pit of my stomach flutter with fear and arousal as my mind contrasts how
soft your hands are now with how hard they will be when you punish me.

“Now lean forward Rain. Hands on the wall.”

I reach forward as instructed, bending, until I lean, arms straight in front
of me, against the wall.

Your hand withdraws from my slit to join its partner on my butt.

“Now, what have we here pet?” You ask as you continue to stroke my cheeks.

“My bottom, mistress.” I reply.

My breath is snatched away as your hand falls to sting my cheeks with a
sharp smack.

“Whose bottom pet?”

“Y-yours mistress.”

“That’s right pet.” You return to your fondling; now pinching me cruelly.

“Now pet. If it’s mine I can do what I want with it can’t I?”

“Yes mistress.” My wincing reply is hardly needed as you continue.

“So if I want to spank it pet I can. Can’t I?”

“Yes mistress.”

“Yes mistress indeed…” You pause slyly. “…oh by the way baby I’ve invited
some friends to watch you get your spanking…Well they seem to like watching you being fucked so I thought they’d like to see you being…disciplined.”

I crane my head to see the three woman. They stand between us and the
alley’s entrance, arms slung easily about each other, hands casually seeking
out sensitive, needy flesh.

I swallow, uncertain of how to respond.

Fortunately it seems that no response is necessary as you continue.

“Now Rain, open your legs and push out your ass.”

I feel you release my bottom, stepping to my left as I move to comply,
exposing myself again to their hungry view.

“Ready pet?”

I nod my head dumbly, before I realise my error. You hand falls twice, hard;
*smack*, *smack*, on my presented cheeks.

“You need to tell me pet. You know the rules.”

“Sorry mistress.”

“Good girl…Now…ready pet?”

“Yes mistress. I’m ready for my spanking.”

There are no more words. The sharp retort of each stroke and my moans, my
cries, my tearful pleadings provide all the language we need as your hand
descends: smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack covering my buttocks and thighs in a blushing rose pink, leaving me aching, smarting, wanton.

My complaints begin hushed, low, soft. As your hand rains down they grow in
intensity to echo the rising temperature of my flanks.

“Mmm, ahh, nnnn, ohhh, oww, ouch, ahhh, ahh, ooh, owww, nahh, owwwch, ohhh, ohhh, ahhh, no-o-o-o, ahhnno, unnnhh, ahhh, n-n-o-o-o, haaaa, ooohh, owwww, ahhhhh, ouuuwwwuhh, aiyyyy, arrgggh, no-no-no, p-please, nnnoo, p-p-please, ahhhhhhh, nowwahhh…”

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack.

Your hand is hard, severe, unrelenting as it beats out its primal rhythm on
my buttocks.

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack.

I am tearful, desperate, pitiful.

“Ahhhhhh, ahhhhhnnn, arrrrgggghhh, ooooooohhhh, no, please, n-o-o, ohhhhhhh, ahhhhhh, ooooooohhhch, owowowow, aiyyyyy, oh no, please, no more, no, ow, pleeease, ahhhhh, oh mistress, please nnnahhhhhhh…”

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack…

You continue until your hand hurts.

I sob softly, my flanks burning hot in the night cool, radiating heat. I
know what they look like. You have shown me the mirror before now, the
pictures you posted on the internet.

But it is not over yet. From your purse you extract the little red paddle
you always carry. Oval in shape the leather is flexible but stiff. The
handle is six inches long and shaped like a phallus.

Through my moans I hear you talking.

“She likes this one.” You say. “Either end!”

Your laugh is light. The handle end nudges the mouth of my womanhood. I moan lustfully at the intrusion into my sopping, hungry cunt-mouth.

“Urrgggnnnnmmm…” I groan as you sink it home. I begin to pant as you thrust it into me.

“See…” You laugh again as it eases in and out, penetrating me deeper with
each stroke.

“Now Rain, twenty with the paddle.”

My groan is repeated as you extract the impaling shaft.

I gulp for air. ‘Twenty with the paddle? Oh Goddess!’

“Count them all…you know the rules.”

“Yes mistress.”

“Well please tell our…friends, pet.”

“I must count each stroke mistress and thank you for each one. If I lose
count the stroke doesn’t count. If I forget to thank you, you will start
again.”

“There’s a good pet. So we’ll begin.”

*Crack.*

I yelp in surprise at the impact. It stings my already flushed, flaming,
sore cheeks.

“Ooooh. One thank you mistress.”

*Crack.*

“Ohhhh. Two thank you mistress.”

*Thwack.*

“Ahhhhhh. Three thank you mistress.”

*Smack.*

“Hahhhhhh. Four thank you mistress.”

Each successive blow is harder, heating the furnace of my tormented
buttocks; hotter and hotter; marking them with a clear oval stamp of
leathern pain.

Dutifully, obediently, punctuated by my cries of anguish, I repeat my
sobbing refrain without fail, after each and every stroke.

“Ahhhhhh…Five thank you mistress.”

From high on the top of my buttocks to the backs and insides of my wide
spread thighs, you bathe me in the burning flames of your will.

“Six, seven, eight…thank you mistress, thank you mistress, thank you
mistress…nine, ten, eleven, twelve…thank you mistress, thank you mistress,
thank you mistress, thank you mistress…thank you mistress”

Eventually the paddle strikes for the twentieth and final time.

My groan is low, agonized, pregnant with the extremity of my arousal.

“Ohhhhggggghhhhhnnnnn…” Groaning, panting my breathless gratitude…”Ohhh Thank you mistress.” Earning myself, at the last, an extra stroke.

“How many Rain?”

Your voice is stern. Your question a demand.

I breathe my response, hushed but clear.

“Ohh forgive me mistress…Nineteen thank you mistress…”

The paddle stings again. The spank is loud, clear, sharp...painful.

“Oooohhhhhwwwwww…Twenty thank you mistress.”

I wonder again that your hands could be so hard as they punish. They are
smooth and soft as they stroke my tormented cheeks. Your words are softly
soothing, comforting, filled with pride as you continue to sample the heat
of my punished body.

“Good girl…it’s over now baby…you did so well…you’re so beautiful baby…so
beautiful...so responsive…your ass is perfect…so soft…so hot… you look so
perfect as you’re being punished…so beautiful…like a goddess…a soft,
compliant, beautiful goddess…mmmm…baby…so hot…”

Your hands roam my fesses, stroking, loving as they ease beneath me to
sample again the moist, honeyed slickness of my core.

“Yes baby.” You breathe as I groan against your invasion. “You’ve certainly
earned your pleasure tonight.”

Your hand gently pumps me.

“But let’s see if we can find a bed for the night…”

You release me, turning leaving me still supplicant, moaning, wanton, to
address the tallest of three women.

“Hey there…well, you’ve seen mine…gonna show me yours?”

“Oh I think that can be arranged.”

“Cool. As long as you can provide somewhere Rain here’s mouth can keep its
appointment with my pussy.”

“Mmmm…that I’d like to see…get the car…”