Get The Bitch Hotter

Above the entrance door was a red exit sign. Stepping softly into the long hallway, an overwhelming cocktail of free flowing whores and drunken parties clung to the dampness in the air. The metal door clicked closed behind her. She tested it to make sure it would allow an exit. It clicked closed again. Relieved to be standing alone in the hall, she tried to grow accustomed to the adrenaline that privately rushed through her body. Knowing that escape was still an option allowed her a small sense of comfort. She took this moment to look outward and absorb the surroundings. A boldly patterned carpet, worn down in predictable places, frayed with years of abuse. She feared abuse. There were a series of doors with incremental numbers. She feared the progressive nature of dominance. The lighting overhead was sufficient but it dimmed into obscure details and finally into total darkness. She feared the absence of details. The melting pot of music, words and resulting emotions were difficult to separate. She struggled to decipher each piece of verbal evidence. Muffled voices transformed into story boards. Words of possession excited her. Music of passion enticed her. The combination of her overwhelming curiosity and his words from the previous day encouraged her to leave the safety of the entrance and explore the opportunities.

"Walk forward until you find your door."

She recalled him repeating these words as she slowly contemplated her next move.

Her first apprehensive step kept her centered in the narrow corridor. One light step and her knees felt as if they would buckle and not support her intentions to continue.

How far can I venture if taking just one small step causes this much reaction?

Her pulse throbbed as her body reacted to the secrets of controlled lust. The sounds of intimate encounters of power exchange barely masked her pounding heart. She was surrounded by a myriad of choices as she took another step. His words once again visited her.

"I can show you the many doors, but it is up to you to choose one."

The doors may have blindfolded her view, yet she could see beyond them. The interpretation of the sensory clues blurred into erotic visions. There was classical music with operatic voices singing unrecognizable words of intensity. Synchronized spanking. Another step forward. Country music and pony girls riding bulls. Laughter with each snap of the single tail. Skin reddened with desire soothed by a repairing loving touch. Another step forward. Wooden contraptions with thrashing restraints that freed the soul and bound the body. Tears that drowned the requested pleas for more attention. Masks that didn't conceal but revealed an amative truth. Damp leather stiffened and crusty with the flow of willing participants. A smiling tongue that wasted nothing. Her imagination galloped and her free will kept her walking.

"No turning back."

It would be easier to run away and those words forced her to focus. Disobeying was not an option now. Another step forward.

Her nervousness kept her centered in the hall, tightening her belly, fighting back against the urge to pee. The possibility of being caught as a peeping tom added to her anxiety. She was afraid in being alone but just as afraid of being discovered. Her words were ready to explain the circumstances if she were discovered. It was simple, state the truth with the facts. Respectfully explain that her dominant asked her to come to this place with no name and choose a door. It may have appeared like a cheap hotel corridor but the guests were far from usual. Whoever might discover her would probably find her story amusing. A submissive might even offer words of encouragement. A dominant might chuckle and tell the little one to be on her way.

I can cope with encouragement but an invitation to join would have to be gracefully declined.

She was not here to play with others, at least not yet. The hopes that she would find her way into his arms is what guided her further.

Her elongated shadow cast onto the carpet and began to fade into the darkness. She was surprised that she had made it to this point. A surreal feeling of being high where colors and sounds and thoughts converged. Seconds flashed and paused neglecting the minutes. Reaching out to the walls for guidance in the ever growing darkness, her hands would occasionally touch a doorknob. She soon paused and felt a sexual enticement in the cold metal.

Perhaps his hands had also touched this knob. Perhaps he had opened this door in the past. Perhaps he waited on the other side.

His presence consumed her as both hands gripped the door knob with fingers entwined. The energy of the warming metal focused inward increasing her desire. She imagined the hands that had opened this door tracing circles in the small of her back. She leaned closer and tried to hear the barely perceptible noises within the room. Her pungent scent fogged her ability to think clearly.

She was sexual and alive and the thick wetness between her thighs could be felt forming a puddle. She visited memories of standing at the edge and evaluating the depth of puddles as a young girl wearing rubber boots.

Will only my ankles be consumed?

The fantasy of being swallowed whole by the mysterious water lurked momentarily.

Will I fall through the earth and enter a foreign land? Is this path worth the risk?

The joyous moment with courage found to trust and take the plunge into the unknown. The splashing and laughter of surrender.

She yearned to slip a finger into her wet panties and circle her clit into release. The desire to understand this world and to cum within it was needed to calm her. Surrounded and yet so alone while her fingers danced. The lights dimming. The moans louder. An intensity profound. Confusion . She wanted him. She needed him. Her probing fingers paused to listen for intruders. Her discerning eyes looked to the darkness and to the light to see if someone watched. The naughty slut who hid within the demure woman was ready to explode when the sound of a metal door clicking closed reverberated above the chaos. It came from the darkened end of the hall where another red exit sign was the only visible detail.

He must be here.

She had sensed his eyes upon her watching the journey unfold and his proud erection growing with each step she had taken. When she had wanted to run from the tension, she imagined his hard cock hurt with stiffness. She hoped that now was the time when his need to possess her outweighed his pleasure in watching her torment. She had proved her ability to obey, never taking a step back to the safety of the light. She had demonstrated her ability to trust and she had trusted him to appear.

He must be here.

Within the tension of the darkness, she yearned to be invisible.

What if it is not him?

She flattened her back against the wall. The palms of her hands pressed so hard behind her that her arms tingled and felt ready to float. Her cunt squeezed tight with each shallow breath. Each nerve ending stood at attention. She could only assume that it was him and no longer could remain silent. "Please....Please surround me with Your arms and kiss me with Your darting tongue that possesses each place it caresses. Hold my wrists firmly in your control. Please."

He had stood in the darkness watching and smiling the whole time. Slamming the door was only to get her attention.

"Are you wet and ready for me, my bitch?"

She exhaled a long slow breath of air at the sound of his voice and realized that it did not matter what happened behind the doors. All the actions were possible. The importance for her was in their connection while entering them together. "Yes, I am wet for you."

"Sometimes the journey is the destination, my sweet. You need not walk alone on this path if You will allow me the pleasure of escorting you."

His large hand found her wrist as she whispered the truth. "Yes, I am ready for you."