WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual activity and rough sex. If that offends you, please move on and read something else. There is something for everyone on Literotica.
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Dany's Demise
Flirtatious waitress finds herself on the menu.
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The attractive brunette sat on the edge of the double bed with her long slender legs pressed tightly together and her arms wrapped defensively over her lush breasts. Her brown eyes darted around the room taking everything and everyone in before she bowed her head once again, too embarrassed to actually make eye contact with anyone. Nothing in her twenty-three years had prepared her for the situation in which she currently found herself.
'Now I know how a cornered animal feels', she thought to herself. Even though the room was uncomfortably warm and damp, her body began to involuntarily tremble again. Her skin felt clammy with perspiration and the pungent smell of sweat and sex permeated the small room.
The sheer baby-doll she wore clung to her moist skin, revealing her rigid nipples and pert breasts as they swelled in and out. Her bottom half was equally exposed in an almost non-existent thong. She self-consciously kept her thighs clamped tightly together, trying to hide her neatly trimmed pussy.
The eyes of every man in the room were on her, devouring every inch of her shapely body. Her rich golden full-body tan had been sprayed on two days before and her moist skin glistened like a gold bar. Her skimpy clothing did little to hide the curves and contours of her stunning body.
She tried to control her breathing in a futile attempt to stop her body from shaking. How could this be happening to her, she asked herself as her body shuddered again. Her life had begun to spin out of control a few weeks earlier.
It had only taken one impulsive bad decision to send her life spiraling out of control. Since that fateful decision, her life had experienced one indignity after another with no end in sight.
New she found herself truly spiraling toward a point of no return. And she had resigned herself to the fact that she was powerless to stop it.
All the power was in the hands of the man standing against the wall, a few feet from the foot of the bed. She snuck a quick look at him out of the corner of her eye as she continued to submissively sit with her head bowed.
Was her head bowed in submission or in shame, the man wondered as he starred back at her, trying to read her mind. Is she ready now? Will she submit? He thought so, otherwise they wouldn't be here now.
Each time she sneaked a look at him, she hoped that he might finally take pity of her and call it all off. But in her heart, she knew that would not happen, and for his part, the thought never crossed his mind.
When she had been led into the dingy room, she was immediately struck by how perfectly it epitomized the stereotype of the cheap and sleazy cat house, the seedy bordello, that it was.
There was no mistaking the purpose of the room. The bed was there for one purpose and one purpose only, and it wasn't for sleeping. The only other furniture in the room were a dresser to the left of the bed, with a pitcher and wash basin on it, and a wooden chair and clothes horse on the right.
The room's walls were covered with a fading flowery wallpaper that was decades out of style and probably just as old. The only light was the mini-chandelier fixture at the center of the ceiling which emitted pale rose light from several small pink lightbulbs. She had thought it looked out of place in the dingy surroundings when she first entered the room. It was too nice for the dreary room.
Even more out of place, however, was the additional camera lighting equipment arrayed in a semi-circle at the foot of the bed, with their silver reflective umbrellas. There were also two digital video cameras strategically placed on tripods at either corner of the bed. Another camera sat on the dresser, presumedly to be handheld by a roving cameraman, once things got started.
The jittery young woman's eyes were constantly drawn to the camera on the dresser. As her mind raced, she conjured images of it being used for tight macro shots and closeups. She cringed at the thought of what it would be filming in such stark detail.
She shifted her position on the end of the bed and snuck another look at the group of men standing just behind the cameras and lighting equipment. Yet again, her eyes were drawn to the camera on the dresser and her growing fear of how it would be used. She shuddered once again, and her body began to shake even more violently as her moment of truth approached.
Avoiding eye contact, she peeked at the man sitting in what looked like a high director's chair with three monitors on a table in front of him. He was whispering in hushed tones with the three cameramen standing around him.
Each of them wore headsets with microphones in front of their mouths. From what little she could make out, the man in the chair was giving the cameramen last minute instructions.
The other six men were standing clumped together near the door that led into the hallway. They were also talking in hushed tones. But the anxiety ridden girl couldn't make out what they were saying. However, their voices sounded eager, she thought. It didn't take much imagination for her to figure out what they were excited about.
Summoning her courage, she looked directly at the man who had brought her here today. He was casually leaning against the door as he talked with the other men on either side of him. He was purposefully avoiding making eye contact with her, she thought.
When they arrived earlier, he had told her that the other men were friends and business associates that he had handpicked to be the first. He had also pointedly reminded her that the word 'no' was not to be a part of her vocabulary today.
He had bluntly informed her that he had told the men they could use her however they wanted. He had also told her that if she disappointed any of the men she would regret it.
She remembered seeing a couple of the men when they stopped by his office, where she had worked as his assistant. As she sat there looking at him, and as he and his friends loomed near her, she regretted ever having taken him up on his job offer.
Her anxiety continued to build as her imagination run rampant, conjuring up bizarre images of the fate that awaited her. As a defense mechanism, she receded into her own mind. The hushed conversations taking place around her were little more than background noise now.
The bright camera lights contributed to making the men nothing more than shadowy figures hovering at the periphery of her vision. She could feel her mind drifting backward in time to the day they first met.
She and he had struck up a conversation after he and his party had finished dinner in the restaurant where she worked as a waitress. She had taken his party's orders and served them dinner.
He and his guests were all men, dressed in expensive suits, wearing expensive watches, were exceptionally well groomed and had an aura of success about them. She sensed that if she played her cards right, they would be good for a big tip.
She and he had flirted with each other throughout dinner and as she hoped, he had left her a more than generous tip. When she returned to the table to thank him, that's when he had surprised her by offering her a job.
Suddenly she felt a chill course through her body and raising goosebumps on her skin as she had a revelation. With mental images of that evening at the restaurant running through her mind, she realized that the men in the room with her now were the same five men who had dined with him that evening.
