She is dancing with her friends in a club. The crowd is hyped up on the upbeat dance music, their bodies moving silhouettes, writhing rhythmically, bumping, grinding. It's pitch dark except for the intermittent movement of a great many colored strobe lights, the sparkle off the shiny disco ball dispersed across various surfaces in the room. She came here with a group of friends, guys and girls alike, celebrating the start of the weekend after a grueling workweek. However, she'd lost sight of everyone in her company, not that there was any way to see anybody in the dark, with the glaring, flashing lights anyhow. She dances to the music in complete abandon, feeling other bodies bumping into hers occasionally, not minding them and writing off the occasional bumps and gropes as accidental, merely the results of an enthusiastic group of exuberant party-goers. Various random bumps from carefree party-goers inadvertently land her in a dark corner of the club, dancing energetically on the outskirts of the writhing mass.
She closes her eyes, feeling the heavy bass of the uptempo music pulsating through her body. Her movements are a mixture of slow seductive curves and twists here and there, her arms gracefully extending over her head, running over her body, moving out along her sides, while her voluptuous hips swayed side-to-side, and round and round alternately. That was when she felt it.
At first she thought it was another accidental brush from a wayward dancer who was just blindly moving in the dark, but then, she feels the fingers slowly and deliberately creep up along her spine, tracing the moist skin exposed by her near-backless dress that left a part of her luscious butt uncovered. She gasps and turns quickly, her eyes instantly flying open trying to see the face of her molester despite the dark. For a moment she begins to panic, but manages to maintain her composure. She ignores the fingers and moves out of reach, retreating further into her corner.
Minutes pass and she dances uninterrupted, hindered only by the closeness of the walls in her corner. She dances, turning in circles now, but before she can complete her last turn, she feels two hands on her hips holding her in place, facing the corner. She tries to get out of the corner, now spooked by the strong grip at her waist. The hands are firm and she is unable to break free or get around them... she tries to push her way out, backing away from the corner, but she is blocked by a broad body. From what she can tell, the person is taller than she, and for all the hard, chiseled muscles she feels press against her, the person is definitely male. The body closes in and instinctively she puts her hands between herself and the wall to avoid colliding hard with it and possibly ending up with a broken nose. Suddenly, she realizes that all that hardness is not just chiseled muscles, but in addition, a rock hard bulge pressing into her behind. She writhes and squirms rebelliously, trying to break free, even resorting to making loud noises of protestations, hoping to get the attention of other dancers, but to no avail. The music was just too loud.
The large hands move deftly - one pressing against the middle of her back, the other on the nape of her neck, masses of her wavy hair, caught partially in the strong grip. The body presses even closer, harder, as if this person would imprint their form on hers if they could. She shudders, feeling hot breath creep along the side of her neck, unexpectedly sending tingling shocks along her spine, triggering unwanted sensations of pleasure in her heat. A low, rich male voice speaks in her ear, not shouting, but loud enough to be heard over the music at the close range. "Don't move... stop that hopeless squirming, or I just might accidentally snap your delicate little neck in half."
The voice sounded calm, totally in control and she believed him as every word was stated cooly, confidently as mere statements of fact. His hands were enormous and she felt his strength - she did not doubt for one second his warning. Frightened, she stops moving completely, only her chest heaving heavily as her heart raced with panic. "Good girl... thank you, it'd be a shame to hurt you unintentionally," came the voice in her ear, this time it was velvety and warm, the words rolling out as smooth as silk. All manner of thoughts ran wildly through her head - who was this man? what kind of man does this and says thank you? She was confused and furious, petrified and perplexed all at once.
All thoughts flew from her head instantly when the hands began to move, massaging and applying pressure along her neck and back. An involuntary moan escapes her mouth and her body shudders, despite her fear. It felt good and somehow he knew how to touch her just right and where. He chuckles low, "Hm... so you like this? Not such an unwilling victim after all." Shame and fury boil within her at his words, but to her further degradation, she felt herself heat up and become sticky and wet in-between her thighs. She growls, blind with anger.