Erotica

Sex Club Virgin

I felt so wanton in front of all those people. But my body was crying out with need.

I giggled at the phrase in my head. “I am a Sex Club Virgin, and I am about to pop my cherry!”

I felt giddy with a mix of nerves and excitement.

My google history told the story of my mind that week.

“What to wear to a sex club?”

“What to expect from my first time at a sex club?”

I eventually dealt with my sartorial dilemma and decided on a beautiful blue corset and thong, with stockings and high heels. I wore a flirtatious little dress over it to arrive in. It felt like suitable sex club attire, but most importantly, I felt sexy.

Butterflies played in my stomach as I drove there. I pulled into the car park, and I saw him waiting there exactly as agreed. He knew I was feeling anxious, and the sight of him softened my nerves.

He had been to the club a few times before and was friends with several of the attendees. That evening, he was accompanying me, as my playmate — helping me live out this fantasy.

A wave of delicious anticipation surged through me.

He greeted me with a kiss and whispered into my ear, checking I was okay. I took a deep breath and nodded. He returned the smile, but with a wicked glint in his eye. “Tonight, I am your Dominant. I expect your obedience, but I will also take the upmost care of you.”

And with that he led me into the club. I visited the changing room and removed my dress. I walked out in just my lingerie, and he whistled appreciatively. I laughed but it allowed me to start to enjoy the thrill of walking around in such provocative attire.

He showed me around, with our tour ending in the bar area where I took a seat on one of the bar stools.

A glass of champagne appeared, and I took a sip, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid and the dancing bubbles on my tongue. “Good girl” he caressed me with his voice. “Now spread your legs wider.”

I felt a moment of self-consciousness in front of the other people chatting and flirting nearby, but I did as he requested. He slipped two fingers beneath my thong and gently rubbed them over my pussy. An audible moan escaped my lips.

He stared at me intensely, holding my gaze. His fingers moved lower and probed at my opening. I bit on my bottom lip as his fingers slipped inside me.

“Just as wet as I imagined you would be,” he asserted.

I felt myself blush at his words. He pulled his fingers away and brought them to his mouth. I could see other people watching as he licked my juices from them.

“Delicious,” he smirked. “Now I have a little treat for you.”

Options swirled ominously through my head. I finished my champagne and followed him through to another room. He pointed to a spanking bench in the middle of the floor and encouraged me to position myself accordingly. The prospect of the pleasure and pain fuelled my arousal.

My skin felt hot as I lay my flesh against the leather. He walked around me, tying my wrists and ankles to the bench. Then he fastened a wide belt around my middle, holding me tightly in place, forcing my back to arch and my bottom to rise.

From my prone position, I could see the legs of people entering the room. I could hear them moving around, ready to watch the spectacle.

Leaning down, he brought his mouth close to my ear. “You look perfect. Just remember your safeword and that there is no shame in using it.”

Then he moved behind me. I waited.

A first firm slap landed across my right cheek. I inhaled sharply.

A second and a third followed quickly. Each one stinging my flesh. I could not help but cry out.

He worked expertly over my bottom and upper thighs. A deluge of slaps landed, some light and teasing, some harsh and firm. Fronds of pain burned across my skin.

My legs tried to kick out, but the restraints held me firmly in position. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my lower back.

As more spanks rained down on my throbbing flesh, I felt waves of agony and sparks of exquisite pleasure.

I was hugely conscious of the crowd of onlookers. And that just heightened everything for me.

I knew my screams were filling the room, but I could not stop myself.

Finally, he paused. My body was shaking, I knew my skin would be glowing red.

He slid his hand between my legs and found my swollen clit. I moaned at his sensual touch.

His hand rubbed backwards and forwards, stimulating me. The build-up of tension inside, made me yearn for my release.

Then he pulled his hand away and pushed two fingers into my aching pussy. It felt wonderful but I wanted the pressure back on my clit. I groaned in frustration.

“Do you need to cum, Little One?” he asked innocently.

“Yes,” I pleaded.

Cruelly, he started to massage my aching bottom.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

I felt so wanton in front of all those people. But my body was crying out with need.

“I need to cum. Please touch my clit again. Please,” I almost sobbed my request.

His fingers caressed my clit, exactly as he knew I needed. I ground against them.

“Cum for me, Little One.”

The pleasure overwhelmed me. My body tensed and bucked against the restraints. My orgasm ripped through me. I cried out over and over.

I came undone in front of all those strangers.

When my body finally stilled, he ushered the onlookers from the room and wrapped me in his arms. I relaxed in his embrace but knew for the rest of the evening, every person I saw, I would wonder if they had been one of the spectators.

Katie wrote the above story for the Fiction Marathon writing competition last year. She got through to the final and ended the competition as runner-up. Here is another story Katie wrote for the Fiction Marathon:

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