HOW I ABANDONED MY PUSSY AT THE GOTH-CLUB part 05
Luna, a goth girl finds an old note in a second-hand book about pagan witchcraft. It promises the magic separation of individual body parts and in her mind, the idea emerges, that this might be the ultimate solution to get close to her adored idol Damien, the attractive lead singer of the band Astral Cadaver. Other girls might be able to give him roses, stuffed animals, or even panties, but only she can gift him her most precious and intimate sacrifice, her living and sensing vagina.
But fate has a different path in mind and Luna has to make a difficult decision.
LUNA
My hackles are raised, as I stumble through the door. The night is cold and silent, at least compared to the booming music and the many voices in the club. It feels like a different world out here, and I take a deep breath.
A few people are entering a taxi at the street in front of me, and to my left, a group of five goths is gathering to have a smoke. I can't believe I have become an ashtray. I can't deal with this humiliation. The smokers are laughing. Not about me, but about some funny story they are sharing.
But inside the Crimson Spiral, I become the funny story, the joke to laugh about. They got onto me, they noticed my vagina is not just a prop, and it is only a matter of time till somebody finds out the truth. What should I do? This is too much for me!
I can't stay, I can't be here when they find out. With trembling fingers, I search for my phone in my pocket. The display lights up and I open the Uber app.
I gulp. Fuck, I can't do that! I can't just leave my pussy just here like that, just abandon it. I look back to the club. Crimson Spiral, the letters are glowing in bright red. I put the address of my hotel into the destination and confirm. Just 4 minutes and it will be here.
Fuck, Luna! You can't just chicken out of this situation like that! It's your god damn pussy!
You need to stay, you can't leave now. 3 minutes for my ride to arrive.
I cling to my purse. How can I get my pussy out of this horror? They will find out.
2 minutes. I take a seat on the curb and brush over my fishnet legs. How will it be, to live without a pussy? How will I get a boyfriend in the future? How will I explain?
Headlights are approaching, the car slows down, I stand up. A Mexican driver. He asks me through the window. "Are you Luna?"
"Yes.. no... yes." I have no idea what to say.
He looks confused at me with his bushy eyebrows. "Yes or no? It can't be both."
"Yes, I am Luna." My voice cracks, I open the rear door and nervously enter his Sedan to sit down on the back seat. My fingers tingle and fear is clenching my beating heart. I know I can't leave now, it's wrong to leave it behind!
But as I close the door, the driver starts without saying a word, and streetlights are moving past the window. Luna! Don't be that stupid! You can't leave your pussy behind! It's wrong!
I grab the seatbelt and pull it over my body to fasten it. The sedan slows down to stop at a red traffic light. Now or never! I release the belt and let it snap back to the side of the seat. "Sorry, I have to go!"
"What?" The Mexican watches over his shoulder at me.
I yank open the door. Another car honks, as the light turns green. I'm jumping off. "Sorry, I left something essential behind. I need to get back to the club."
"Oh, girl! Why are you calling a ride then?" The driver isn't happy.
I want to cry, but I need to stay strong. I abort the ride, then I run back. Fast and wide steps with my heavy buckled boots, although I wear a tight corset, my big tits are bouncing like crazy. I need to do the right thing. I need to get back what's mine and like that, I reenter the crowded Crimson Spiral.
My pussy gets washed up with warm water and soap by that strangers' hands again. Someone is fiddling around with it, eagerly toying with my sensitive piercing and my long labia, plucking recklessly on my aroused little cherry. But I need to stop at another place first, otherwise, I will become crazy.
"One vodka." I put the money on the counter. It's so bizarre, that I can't do anything against that unwanted hypersexual sensation on my genitals and I need to have a lot of self-control not to move weirdly or moan.
Without a comment, Pete puts the shot in front of me. I drink it. It burns in my throat. He knows it's a rough night. Time to enter the combat zone.
Only a few guys at the urinals and one washing his hands at the sinks at the men's restrooms. But no trace of my vagina, which is still getting washed. So I shift over to the Ladies' ones. A small crowd of girls has gathered in front of the mirrors by the two sinks. On the left side, they try to share the place to apply makeup and wash their hands after a stop at the toilets, but at the sink on the right, three punks are chuckling, while stretching and kneading my pussy under the rushing water.
I approach them with the most accusatory and serious voice my throat allows me to come up with. "Hey, what the hell do you think you are doing there?"
"Mind your own fucking business" one of them turns to me and gestured for me to leave.
Fuck, this makes me undeliberately horny. I can't let them play with my pussy like that.
"Stop perverting around with it, it's yucky! Despite this, you are blocking the sink with your filthy show." I try to make them stop without giving away my true intentions.
Another girl waiting in the second row agrees with me. "Yeah, I need to wash my hands."
"Me too! Please!" I get even more support. Awesome!
The three punk girls stop to evaluate the situation. Thank god, it seems they have noticed how off-place their performance has been. Hopefully, I get my pussy back now.
They make way, I get closer and try to grab myself from them. But as they pull it away, I just end up slapping myself on my genitals. "Hey!"
"Hit the bricks, Tit-Zilla. It's our turn now, so pull a number and sit down." She holds it away from me. I could burst open right here! They can't deny me my own pussy like that. It doesn't have turns, it's mine. As if it were a fairground ride I had to wait in line for. It's mine, my most intimate private bits, and I have no intention to share it with them. They need to give it back to me right now.
A girl dressed in perfect black leaves one of the toilet stalls and buckles her studded belt. The punks take this as an opportunity to invade the open door and turn the lock. Engaged.
That must be a bad joke, they are straight-up bullying me. I need to be decisive this time to truly get it back. I knock at the door. "Hey, open up!"
"Go home! You have no business here!" One of them shouts. I look at the stalls to the left and right, but they are both occupied. Shit!
The punks are carefreely tinkering with my private parts, pulling on my clitoris and twisting it hard. I clench my teeth, squeeze my legs together, and desperately move my hips. As the door to the left opens, I rush into the stall and lock the door behind me.
Amused giggling on the other side of the divider. They stretch my poor little cherry and let it snap like rubber. "Hahaha, that funny cunt is getting really wet!"
"I told you, it's magical. It must be alive somehow."