Wish Fulfillment (FF+, d/s, con) By Regina Regetti
Warning: This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between dominant and submissive women. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18, do not read it.
Author's note: This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading, pleasure, or to be sent to a friend, but if you wish to repost it on your own site, please contact the author for permission.
Copyright 2011 by Regina Regetti
As we enter the crowded bar, my eyes scan the room, taking in the hedonistic scene. The music is pounding, the kind of visceral dance beat that pulses right between the legs, and everywhere the room is heady with the sights and smells of sex. Every stool at the bar is taken, and several of the women seated there have lovers standing between their thighs, and I glimpse kissing and furtive groping in the flashing lights from the dance floor. The dance floor is particularly crowded, a sea of bodies writhing to the beat. In the tropical heat, no one is wearing much, and anywhere one looks there is the flash of tits, ass, and cunt. My kind of scene.
I look around but fail to see a spot where we can alight, so I simply tug on your leash and proceed deeper into the club. The bodies part to let us pass and I can feel the eyes of many on us, perhaps curious, or envious, or somewhere in between. Magically, as we reach a rounded booth in the corner, the women there get up to leave and we slide into it. No sooner are we seated, than I jerk your collar roughly towards me, pulling you in close for a tongue kiss. You return the kiss hungrily. I can tell this scene arouses you.
"That's a lovely slut you have there. Where did you get it?"
I look up to see a lovely Asian woman standing at the edge of our table. She is dressed in a skintight leather bustier dress, its hem ending at mid-thigh, and long black leather boots with stiletto heels. The outfit is almost a caricature of domme-wear, but I smile back at her. "We met online. Do you like?"
"Oh yes! What lovely tits it has." The affected use of the impersonal pronoun is a bit off-putting, but I invite her to join us. She slides in next to me, then quickly rewards my generosity by catching the eye of the scantily clad waitress and ordering drinks for the three of us.
"I'm Anna," she says, and we kiss. I'm expecting just a friendly peck, but instead get a mouthful of tongue. It takes me a moment to disengage.
"I'm Regina." I take a longer look at her, and see her eyes are slightly dilated, either drugs or booze.
"Do you ever share your slut, Regina?" she asks, her dark eyes flashing.
"Certainly. Just this morning she was servicing a whole conga line of women up in our room. A shame you missed it." Our drinks arrive. I take a sip from my customary gin & tonic, and watch as Anna slurps at a sea breeze. You, my lovely whore, have a Bacardi & tonic, and I am pleased that you have left it sitting on the table, awaiting my instructions. I lift it to your lips and let you take a sip. Anna is watching us through narrowed eyes.
"You have her trained well," she says admiringly.
"Yes I do," I agree. "She would get down on the floor right now and suck your cunt if I told her to."
Anna looks at me for a moment, as though weighing my words. "Prove it," she finally says.
I turn to look at you, but you are already sliding your butt off the leather booth seat. I catch just a wisp of a grin before you vanish under the table, and I find myself smiling as well. What a slut you are!
It's too dimly lit to really see much of what is happening under the table, but I can tell by Anna's expression when you begin to work on her. Her mouth purses into a round O, and her eyes widen. In a moment, her head is leaning back against the back of the seat and her bottom is pushed forward to the edge, no doubt to give you better access.
"Nnnnggghh....oh my fucking GOD!" she exclaims, and I see her biting her lower lip. I take this opportunity to reach up with my forefinger and pull down the top of the Asian girl's dress, and her small tits spill out of the top. Before she can say anything, I lean forward and take her left nipple in my mouth, biting down onto the pliant nub. She squeals delightedly. At that moment, her bottom lifts up off the seat, and I see your white hand flash in under her, no doubt moving to push a digit up her tight little butt. Just as Anna's face contorts in the delightful rictus of climax, our waitress returns to check on us. As she sees what is happening, I see her shocked expression quickly melt into a sly smile.
"I guess I don't have to ask if everything is all right," she says.
"Oh we're getting along just fine, thanks," I answer, flashing her a quick smile. Karen, my slut, you choose this moment to crawl out from under the table. Your face is red, and shining wetly on both your cheeks and mouth.
"Take off your skirt," I say to you, "and sit here next to me again."
Your eyes go wide and you start to shake your head. One look from me is enough. Shakily, you remove the skirt. Immediately, the eyes of all those nearby swivel to look at your exposed ass and cunt, with their delicious strings of pearls. I notice that you take your time sliding into the booth, and your nipples are hard as pebbles under the cropped tee. I reach over and lift the tee up above your tits, so that your nipples are completely exposed, and watch as the flush of embarrassment sweeps across your face. Then I kiss you, and relish the taste of Anna on your mouth.
Anna has vanished into the crowd, leaving us to ourselves for the moment. I must say you look positively ravishing, so I am not really all that surprised as a growing knot of women begins pressing closer to our secluded booth, perhaps sensing that something special is about to happen. My own fingers are busy, squishing around in your sloppy cunt. I'm not even sure why I do what I do next, but once the thought occurs to me, it seems perfect. The waitress is gathering some glasses from the table, and I beckon her closer to my ear and whisper a few questions, and then instructions to her. She smiles at me and pushes her way through the crowd. In a moment, she is back, with a blank tented card, like the ones used to reserve tables, and a marker. I take the card, and scribble on it, then place it on the table in front of us. A murmur runs through the crowd of women, there are a few giggles, and then one girl walks up and places two dollar bills on the table. I turn to you and spin you around, pushing you onto your back on the seat, your face at one end of it and your face up. The woman smiles at me as I tuck the money into my purse, and takes a seat on your face. She keeps it firmly planted there until you start kicking your legs, then she lifts up slightly so you can grab a quick breath. In the meantime, several more women walk up and drop dollars onto the table and a line begins to form. I smugly glanced at my sign as I took a long pull at my drink:
Two-Dollar Whore Asses and Cunts Serviced Tips Welcome
It does not take long for the line of anxious lesbians to get impatient at being kept waiting. Before long, you are hauled off the booth seat and placed on top of the table. The crowd of women move themselves into a dense wall to shield what was happening at the table from the rest of the room. Our winking waitress knows what was going on, but I gave her a nice freebie on your mouth (even helping her to a nice cum by licking her lovely nipples while you are eating her.
Somehow the rest of your clothes have been removed, and now you are completely naked on the table, though still wearing your heels. I see the tattered remnants of your half-tee being kicked around on the floor and realize that you are going to have to return to our room by walking completely nude through the hotel. Oh well. Perhaps you will be buying us out of hassles with the hotel management by whoring yourself later in the night. We'll worry about that then.
Soon, a nice rhythm of customers is established. The two people waiting for their turn hold your legs open wide, with your ass right on the edge of the table. A third woman has free access to your cunt; some chose to eat you, unable to resist your tasty hairless cunt offered so openly for their use. But a few of the more butch ones have strap-ons tucked away in their pants, and take great pleasure in fucking you hard with quick savage strokes. I smile as you lift your ass off the table to meet their thrusts.
On either side of you ladies take their place at your sides, kneeling, as your hands work busily in their squishy cunts. Many of these "on deck" women feast hungrily on your nipples, which are slick and wet with their saliva and bitten and chewed to an angry red, with welts and small purple bruises beginning to form. And always, your face is covered by the writhing form of the luckiest customer, a woman getting either her cunt or asshole licked (or sometimes both, if they slap a five on the table. Every once in awhile, as one of these women staggers somewhat shakily away and one of your "hand" partners scurries to take their place, I catch a glimpse of your red, flushed face, lips and cheeks completely coated with lesbian honey, some of it beginning to leak into your hair. You are the very picture of a completely used whore.
After an hour passes with the line showing no sign of thinning (indeed, the crowd around us seems to have grown as word spreads about the willing whore servicing all cummers in the corner), I realize that I need to find some way of stopping this, or risk having you permanently damaged. I know that already you have experienced your deepest fantasy, and you have made me so proud. I rise from my position at the booth, walk back 10 places in line, and quietly inform the rest of the crowd that the person I selected will be the last customer of the night. It takes you another hour to finish up.
Oh my poor, used slut! I'm afraid you can barely stand after the last person had gushed her honey onto your mouth. She had really ground the hell out of you, and I know there were long moments where you could not possibly have taken a breath. Finally, though, she came, and--assisted by several of the other women--I help you onto your feet. The crowd parts to let us through, everyone staring openly at the whore on the end of my leash, being all but carried by two girls. Your hair hangs in limp damp strings, and your body looks like it has been attacked by dogs, positively chewed up. For the first time, I wonder if perhaps I have allowed things to go a bit too far, but then I look into your tired eyes. Some faint glimmer registers there, and a half-smile curls your wet mouth. You mouth two words, then three more.
"Thank you. I love you."