Strip Club Tease Toy: Dan Falls Into A Trap
Chapter 2: In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida
Dan immediately tried to stand up and even started to cry out, outraged. but the hand against his chest suddenly became incredibly firm, pushing him back and holding him in place. Sarah nuzzled up closer against him, and Dan felt her hot breath pulsing against his neck and the liquid warmth of the immense breasts resting against his bicep. As she pulled closer to him, Dan was suddenly aware that Sarah probably outweighed him by more than 30 pounds, and that his left arm was firmly pinned beneath her. That was when he had finally noticed that the deadbolt was latched.
"Wow..." Sarah breathed against him, as if she hadn't noticed his attempt to escape. She lay her head against his chest and looked up at him innocently with those piercing blue eyes. "So...no one has done this to you in over seven years?" Her fingertips deftly separated the button of his blue jeans, and slowly slid the zipper of his pants down in an exaggerated fashion, revealing (to Dan's shame) a now fully raging hard on to compete with the best of them. Sarah pulled closer still, crossing her outer leg so that it lay lightly over Dan's left thigh. He watched as the maneuver stretched the tight material of her skirt and slowly slid it up her chubby creamy thighs, higher and higher. "Or...this?" She cooed, as she slid the tip of her index finger slowly and lightly up the base of his throbbing member. As she reached the head, she ended the stroke with a little flick that sent an involuntary shudder through Dan's body.
Sarah giggled and shimmied a little, and Dan let out a light moan as he realized that she was now essentially sitting in the open palm of his pinned left hand. As her skirt continued to slowly slide up her soft thighs, he felt the fabric tug past his palm, and then his fingers pressed against soft flesh. Almost unconsciously, the pad of his middle finger slowly grazed the soft indentation where her thigh met the slight fold of her ass cheek, and he thought feverishly to himself, "Oh god, that's her ass. Her asscheek is in the palm of my hand." His hand reactively tightened and he began to squeeze, feeling his fingers sink into the soft curves of her.
Then his eyes widened. "No! This is wrong!" he yelled. He was a man of God! And he wasn't going to let this...this harlot overpower him, or distract him from his mission! He surged forward again, and this time managed to wiggle free. He sprinted for the door, unaware of (and uncaring) how silly he looked with his bouncing erection spilling out of the front of his unzipped pants, and he fumbled densely at the lock as his head spun. This was like some bizarre dream, one of those dreams he had sometimes that washed away in the morning laundry and that he tried to repress the next day. Despite her heels, Sarah moved like lightening, lithely (but calmly) strolling across the room with purpose as his fingers fumbled, panicking, with the latch.
Dan felt strong, firm hands grasp his shoulders and spin him around. Then, before he even realized what was happening, those same hands grabbed each of his wrists and pulled them forcefully over his head. Sarah never broke eye contact, pressing up against him again, and pinning him against the door with her weight as she grinned. That smile, like those eyes, was beautiful and terrifying. To his dismay, Dan felt pressure against his wrists and heard a click, and looked up to see that she had handcuffed him using a furry pink set of cuffs that had hung from the clothesline, and which now appeared to be fastened to a securely anchored hook that Dan had not previously noticed, directly over the door frame. Then she began to methodically unbutton the rest of his shirt. He moaned, feeling actual fear for the first time. Unsurprisingly, Dan refused to accept this fear, and transformed it into rage. He began to shout in a judgmental, formal, scandalized tone, "You bitch, you slut...why are you doing this? I know it's in women's nature to tempt men, but you must resist! I'm infertile, and therefore cannot orgasm, as that is a sin! You can't do this to me! Don't give in to your lust!"
Sarah giggled again, and stepped back to examine her new toy. Dan was trussed up and still erect, so his righteous "man of God" fury did not come off as impressively as he was hoping. "Awwwww, baby! Don't worry! Unlike you, the dancers here at "The Tease" respect all beliefs and cultures. If you don't want to cum, I won't make you cum." She adopted an air of grave solemnity, and held up her right hand. "In fact, I will swear you an oath. I will never ever, ever, EVER give you an orgasm unless at least two things are happening." Her demeanor changed and she stepped back towards him, she spoke slowly now, elongating each word, and her eyes flashed again with that silent laughter (Dan was quickly learning to recognize that that look in her eyes meant he was in trouble). She slid her hand down his chest, lightly grazing his skin as she continued past his belly button, and Dan gasped helplessly as her soft fingers slowly encircled his vulnerable and helpless erection. "One...," she whispered, her face now inches from his, "you are literally BEGGING me to cum..." Her hand began to slide lightly up and down his shaft, rhythmically, faster and faster. "And two..." she continued, and nuzzled up against his neck, now literally breathing in his ear, her panting breath hot against him, "if I feel like it." Dan felt a soft wet tongue creep between Sarah's lips and lightly circle the inner edge of his earlobe. Hot breath continued to blast his ear as she lightly tongued him, and the soft palm of her hand was moving faster now. Again, Dan's breath grew ragged and his cries of outrage died in his throat.