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The Club

Tags: bdsm, lesbian,
An unexpected gift
I was restless. My friends had coaxed me into coming to the club when I really had other things to do. I loved to dance, but they were more interested in just chatting and gossiping. We took turns shooting down guys as they came to our table, trying to ply us with drinks and hoping for a pick-up. I was getting bored and began planning a tactful way of bowing-out, but I had been watching a hauntingly attractive girl sitting in the far corner who seemed as out of place here as I felt.

 She had had her share of guys come and go, and I wondered if she was waiting for someone... or perhaps simply the wrong gender was hitting on her. It was an encouraging thought, which kept me glancing over at her so often I was afraid my friends would notice and start razzing me. I wasn't sure what exactly it was about her that drew my attention like a magnet. She had a delicate fragility, and in this dark jungle of carnal predation, she certainly looked like prey. I tried not to stare.

When I looked over again and she was gone, my heart began to race. I scanned around the room and finally saw her threading through the crowd towards the restroom. My skin began to prickle and I wondered if my friends could tell how distracted and nervous I was. I was afraid my own indecision might cost me my one opportunity. Did I dare?

I hurriedly excused myself and discreetly followed her into the ladies room without a clue how I might approach her or what I was going to say. Glancing down the line of stalls, I bit my lip for she was nowhere to be seen. I took my lip-gloss out of my handbag and stood at the sink touching up my make-up while I waited for her to come out of a stall. I looked in the mirror and panicked as a sheen of perspiration on my cheeks gave away my nervousness!

 I heard muffled voices coming from behind the row of closed doors. I kept hoping whoever was in here with us would finish their conversation and leave. I desperately tried to think of something endearing to say to her, or at least something disarming. The voices grew louder and as I patted powder on my shiny nose and finished applying lip-gloss, I heard the frightening sound of a face being slapped in anger. I turned to look, and dropped the applicator wand I was so startled!

As I fumbled around on the floor under the sink looking for the lost wand, I glanced to my right and saw two black stilettos and a sexy pair of legs rising from them. I looked up. It wasn't her.

"Are you a slave?" The woman inquired.

"Huh? No!" I answered, wondering at the strange question.

"Then get off your knees!" She commanded.

I wobbled upright on my pumps, shifting my dress around straight and wondering why I was obeying so reflexively. A middle-aged woman with great legs stood in front of me, holding a leash. At the other end, tied onto a rhinestone-studded collar, stood my enchanting... slave?? It was her!

"This cunt is worthless! Do you want her?" She demanded, jerking her forward by the collar. The young girl looked at me with pleading eyes filled with tears and abject fear. I could see the redness in her cheeks where she'd just been slapped. I nodded, and the girl was shoved into my arms and spat on by her bitch of a Mistress, who turned and pushed out the door in a huff.

I watched, astonished as the door swung closed behind her, and then looked at the relieved, young beauty who held out her leash to me. I wiped the spit off her cheek and she smiled, the first smile I'd seen on her face all evening. She leaned her head forward onto my breast and kissed it. She was mine.

(c) August 24th, 2013 Bethany Ariel Frasier
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