EWM
02-28-2008, 12:26 PM
Ok, this probably won't be to everyones taste and it's pretty poorly written because I struggle to find the time right now, but I thought I'd see what sort of reaction it got. Inspired by the luck fellahs on here who seem to live second lives dedicated to trample - don't think we've got a resident Lady who does the same? :)
All Characters Over 18. This is a complete work of FANTASY. All characters events etc are pure fiction. If unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality, do not read. Story only for those aged 18 or over. Please don't repost without my permission (not that you'd want to!)
Sarah led the way confidently through the crowd, her hips shifting purposefully to the sound of the music, which came thumping out of large speakers all around them. She had only started working at the club yesterday, and she usually liked to prepare for her victims over a far longer period of time. But already the urge was becoming impossible to resist. She wanted to do it, no one could stop her, she needed to do it, fast.
The man that followed eagerly behind her - with his eyes predictably fixated on her ass - he was nothing. Sarah had chosen him for the simple reason that he was there. She had begun to feel that it was even more exciting when she chose a total stranger like that. He was too dumb, drunk and excited to ask questions. When Sarah – or Angel as she has insisted was her name – had taken him aside, letting his eyes take her awesome figure in for just a few seconds, and suggested that they get a private room - if he had the money - he had only been too happy to agree.
And now she walked him to his fate. The club operated the traditional “No Touching” rule, and there were cameras in all the VIP suites to make sure that it was adhered to. But yesterday, on her very first day, which had been spent “getting to know” the manager, Sarah had learnt that one room was kept camera-free. For the real high rollers only, of course. And it was to this room that she led her poor unsuspecting victim, having ensured that it’d be kept empty just for her tonight.
She opened the door and motioned for him to go in first. She followed, not even glancing behind her, too excited now to be cautious. The door slammed shut and she looked at the man. He was at least five years older than her, mid-twenties, she guessed, probably a businessman. She imagined the reaction he’d get when he next managed to make it in to the office and smiled to herself.
He had grown shy the second Sarah had closed the door, almost intimidated by the confidence and authority that radiated from the beautiful woman before him. Sarah clicked the lock into place and the door and strode towards him. Her high heels clicked against the floor with every step, sending a shiver down her spine. The six-inch heels made her slightly taller than he was. His eyes focussed on them, before moving slowly up her tanned legs, taking in the tight black mini-skirt she wore, towards her body and the knotted white shirt, right up to her face. The long, light brown hair that fell past her shoulders, the brown eyes meeting his, the icy smile on her face.
Suddenly his shyness turned into a flash of fear, he wondered what was amiss here. Sarah wasn’t going to let him speak though. This was it. She was standing right in front of him now. He could probably feel the warmth of her breath.
She drove her knee upwards, sharply and without warning, smashing into his crotch. He doubled over, the shock nearly as bad as the actual pain. Sarah quickly repeated this action again, and then once more, forcing him to drop to his knees.
Panicking now, probably thinking that he was going to be robbed, he tried to crawl away from the aggressor. Sarah lifted her foot up, almost lazily, pinning her heel down deep into the back of his leg. He turned around reflexively, but that only twisted her thin heel further into the flesh and he cried out in pain. It was no worry though, even inside the small room his cries were barely audible against the dull thud of music from outside. She pressed her foot down further, twisting slightly, her sadistic mind now taking over complete control.
The man tried to prize her heel away from his leg, but the shock and pain of Sarah’s assault had made him far too weak and his desperate attempts relieved none of the pressure. Only when he had given up did Sarah finally release the pressure from her foot, but she was still far from finished. Resting only for a second, she looked down on the man and laughed at the obvious relief he was feeling. He thought it was over? No chance!
A hard, fast kick to his ribcage forced him over onto his back. Now Sarah could really have her fun.
She paced quickly around him, stopping by his shoulders and lifting her foot, letting it rest against his throat. He bolted upwards, probably by instinct, and was met with resistance as Sarah held firm. He choked and gave up almost instantly, allowing himself to be pinned down. He looked up at Sarah with desperate eyes.
“If you move,” she said authoritatively, “I will kill you.”
She pressed her heel into his throat once more, just for a second, but there was already no doubt in his mind that she was sincere. He didn’t know what she wanted but he was totally lost, feeling more scared and vulnerable than he had ever imagined possible.
“Look, if you want my money, just take –“ he began, but was cut off before he could finish by another deadly warning from Sarah’s lethal heels. No talking either, he guessed. What was going on?
Sarah finally moved away from his neck, deciding that he had understood the message. She moved around him again, feeling like a lion circling its prey. Her heartbeat was so fast, she breathing so strong, she wondered if he could sense her excitement. She stopped at a level with his stomach, lifted her foot up off the ground and let it rest lightly on the smart shirt he wore.
Slowly she began to lift her other foot off the ground, bringing it up level with her first on his stomach. She focussed on his face as the breath was squeezed out from his body. Now standing on him fully, in the middle of the room with no nearby objects to rest her weight on, she felt a familiar rush of power and control. Her actions no longer required thought, they were just pure instinct. She leaned backwards, letting her heels dig into his stomach, imagining the thin, deep marks they would leave. She twisted them in, wondering how much it would take to cut the skin, to cause her victim to bleed.
When she was sure she’d achieved that goal, could see the look of pain on his face, she allowed herself to move on. She took slow steps forwards, resting first on his ribcage, watching him struggle for breath beneath her wait, knowing that he would not even dare to beg for it to end.
Then she put one put down lightly onto the top of his head. She was just toying with him now. They both knew these shoes – bright red platforms, stereotypical for a stripper – could be fatal if she wanted, that he had no say in the matter. If he hadn’t been so nervous he could probably get a great view up her tiny skirt, she realised, laughing at how pathetic he seemed.
And then she did press down, and hard. But only with the flat sole directly beneath her toes. He groaned underneath her foot, probably feeling like his head was about to explode, but Sarah knew that would take a far greater effort on her part. And it was not something she felt she wanted to do.
Instead, she let him suffer underneath her foot for a while longer. It may have only been for seconds, but it felt like a blissful eternity for her. She closed her eyes, allowing the feelings of control to overwhelm her, before suddenly rushing back to reality. The second part of her plan, the escape. She stepped down back on to the ground. Could see the relief in this strangers face once more. She would have to leave him a parting gift, she decided, whilst he was still stood there. She moved down, stood between his legs.
He looked up at her. Seemed resigned to another similar experience. How unaware he still was, Sarah thought!
She pushed her long heel into his crotch, giving him a second to realise what would happen before driving it upwards full force. He howled in pain, still unheard to the outside world. His ordeal would be over now, though.
“You got lucky” Sarah said, driving one final kick between his legs as a goodbye present. She wouldn’t even take the money she knew was in his pocket.
She moved quickly for the door, this man already just another on a long list. It’d take him a couple of minutes to recover, to find a manager maybe. By then she’d be gone into the night, and Angel would never again visit this club.
All Characters Over 18. This is a complete work of FANTASY. All characters events etc are pure fiction. If unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality, do not read. Story only for those aged 18 or over. Please don't repost without my permission (not that you'd want to!)
Sarah led the way confidently through the crowd, her hips shifting purposefully to the sound of the music, which came thumping out of large speakers all around them. She had only started working at the club yesterday, and she usually liked to prepare for her victims over a far longer period of time. But already the urge was becoming impossible to resist. She wanted to do it, no one could stop her, she needed to do it, fast.
The man that followed eagerly behind her - with his eyes predictably fixated on her ass - he was nothing. Sarah had chosen him for the simple reason that he was there. She had begun to feel that it was even more exciting when she chose a total stranger like that. He was too dumb, drunk and excited to ask questions. When Sarah – or Angel as she has insisted was her name – had taken him aside, letting his eyes take her awesome figure in for just a few seconds, and suggested that they get a private room - if he had the money - he had only been too happy to agree.
And now she walked him to his fate. The club operated the traditional “No Touching” rule, and there were cameras in all the VIP suites to make sure that it was adhered to. But yesterday, on her very first day, which had been spent “getting to know” the manager, Sarah had learnt that one room was kept camera-free. For the real high rollers only, of course. And it was to this room that she led her poor unsuspecting victim, having ensured that it’d be kept empty just for her tonight.
She opened the door and motioned for him to go in first. She followed, not even glancing behind her, too excited now to be cautious. The door slammed shut and she looked at the man. He was at least five years older than her, mid-twenties, she guessed, probably a businessman. She imagined the reaction he’d get when he next managed to make it in to the office and smiled to herself.
He had grown shy the second Sarah had closed the door, almost intimidated by the confidence and authority that radiated from the beautiful woman before him. Sarah clicked the lock into place and the door and strode towards him. Her high heels clicked against the floor with every step, sending a shiver down her spine. The six-inch heels made her slightly taller than he was. His eyes focussed on them, before moving slowly up her tanned legs, taking in the tight black mini-skirt she wore, towards her body and the knotted white shirt, right up to her face. The long, light brown hair that fell past her shoulders, the brown eyes meeting his, the icy smile on her face.
Suddenly his shyness turned into a flash of fear, he wondered what was amiss here. Sarah wasn’t going to let him speak though. This was it. She was standing right in front of him now. He could probably feel the warmth of her breath.
She drove her knee upwards, sharply and without warning, smashing into his crotch. He doubled over, the shock nearly as bad as the actual pain. Sarah quickly repeated this action again, and then once more, forcing him to drop to his knees.
Panicking now, probably thinking that he was going to be robbed, he tried to crawl away from the aggressor. Sarah lifted her foot up, almost lazily, pinning her heel down deep into the back of his leg. He turned around reflexively, but that only twisted her thin heel further into the flesh and he cried out in pain. It was no worry though, even inside the small room his cries were barely audible against the dull thud of music from outside. She pressed her foot down further, twisting slightly, her sadistic mind now taking over complete control.
The man tried to prize her heel away from his leg, but the shock and pain of Sarah’s assault had made him far too weak and his desperate attempts relieved none of the pressure. Only when he had given up did Sarah finally release the pressure from her foot, but she was still far from finished. Resting only for a second, she looked down on the man and laughed at the obvious relief he was feeling. He thought it was over? No chance!
A hard, fast kick to his ribcage forced him over onto his back. Now Sarah could really have her fun.
She paced quickly around him, stopping by his shoulders and lifting her foot, letting it rest against his throat. He bolted upwards, probably by instinct, and was met with resistance as Sarah held firm. He choked and gave up almost instantly, allowing himself to be pinned down. He looked up at Sarah with desperate eyes.
“If you move,” she said authoritatively, “I will kill you.”
She pressed her heel into his throat once more, just for a second, but there was already no doubt in his mind that she was sincere. He didn’t know what she wanted but he was totally lost, feeling more scared and vulnerable than he had ever imagined possible.
“Look, if you want my money, just take –“ he began, but was cut off before he could finish by another deadly warning from Sarah’s lethal heels. No talking either, he guessed. What was going on?
Sarah finally moved away from his neck, deciding that he had understood the message. She moved around him again, feeling like a lion circling its prey. Her heartbeat was so fast, she breathing so strong, she wondered if he could sense her excitement. She stopped at a level with his stomach, lifted her foot up off the ground and let it rest lightly on the smart shirt he wore.
Slowly she began to lift her other foot off the ground, bringing it up level with her first on his stomach. She focussed on his face as the breath was squeezed out from his body. Now standing on him fully, in the middle of the room with no nearby objects to rest her weight on, she felt a familiar rush of power and control. Her actions no longer required thought, they were just pure instinct. She leaned backwards, letting her heels dig into his stomach, imagining the thin, deep marks they would leave. She twisted them in, wondering how much it would take to cut the skin, to cause her victim to bleed.
When she was sure she’d achieved that goal, could see the look of pain on his face, she allowed herself to move on. She took slow steps forwards, resting first on his ribcage, watching him struggle for breath beneath her wait, knowing that he would not even dare to beg for it to end.
Then she put one put down lightly onto the top of his head. She was just toying with him now. They both knew these shoes – bright red platforms, stereotypical for a stripper – could be fatal if she wanted, that he had no say in the matter. If he hadn’t been so nervous he could probably get a great view up her tiny skirt, she realised, laughing at how pathetic he seemed.
And then she did press down, and hard. But only with the flat sole directly beneath her toes. He groaned underneath her foot, probably feeling like his head was about to explode, but Sarah knew that would take a far greater effort on her part. And it was not something she felt she wanted to do.
Instead, she let him suffer underneath her foot for a while longer. It may have only been for seconds, but it felt like a blissful eternity for her. She closed her eyes, allowing the feelings of control to overwhelm her, before suddenly rushing back to reality. The second part of her plan, the escape. She stepped down back on to the ground. Could see the relief in this strangers face once more. She would have to leave him a parting gift, she decided, whilst he was still stood there. She moved down, stood between his legs.
He looked up at her. Seemed resigned to another similar experience. How unaware he still was, Sarah thought!
She pushed her long heel into his crotch, giving him a second to realise what would happen before driving it upwards full force. He howled in pain, still unheard to the outside world. His ordeal would be over now, though.
“You got lucky” Sarah said, driving one final kick between his legs as a goodbye present. She wouldn’t even take the money she knew was in his pocket.
She moved quickly for the door, this man already just another on a long list. It’d take him a couple of minutes to recover, to find a manager maybe. By then she’d be gone into the night, and Angel would never again visit this club.