Letter to a Stranger: the Club

Dear Sir/Madam:

The woman who handed you this letter is my love slave. She does not know the contents of this letter, however her instructions are as follows:

1. Choose a stranger and hand this letter to them.

2. Allow them to do as they wish with your body.

3. Do not leave the club.

You will note that this woman is wearing a short skirt. Be advised, she has nothing on underneath it. You will also note that she is wearing a blouse and vest. What you can't see are the two holes I have cut in her blouse. These allow her breasts to hang free underneath her vest.

My slave is not permitted to leave the club. However, so long as she remains on the premises, she has been instructed to raise no objections should you wish to explore her body.

Please feel free to enjoy yourself.

Jim

Jim's story:

I had called the game "Letter to a Stranger" and was delighted that Clair had agreed to go through with it. Now, here I was sitting in a club, watching Clair as she made her way through the crowd to order a drink. She carried the letter in a sealed envelope in her pocket and I knew that her whole being must have been focused on that letter. As the letter said, Clair had no idea of its contents. She had some idea, of course. She knew that she was probably going to be someone's sex toy. She also knew that she was going to give that gift to a complete stranger. From her point of view, the fact that she didn't know the contents of the letter should have made this experience only marginally more terrifying. But I knew she had been thinking about that letter from the moment I handed it to her.

Clair's story:

Never in my life have I done anything quite this crazy. Not by a long shot. The butterflies in my stomach felt like they had taken over my whole body. But Jim was wrong about the letter - it wasn't the letter I was thinking about.

Just before we went out, Jim had cleanly shaven my pussy. It was the first time it had ever been shaved. And, it was my shaved pussy that I couldn't stop thinking about - that, and my dangling tits.

I kept feeling the wetness between my legs, and the cool air as it hit my naked thighs and pussy. It was making me crazy! And every time my body moved, I could feel my tits sway and my nipples rub up against the rough fabric of the vest. I kept looking at people, wondering if they knew what a slut I was being!

Of course, I was thinking about the letter too. I would feel it in my pocket and wonder if I hadn't lost my mind completely.

"I'm not beautiful," I'd told Jim. "What makes you think someone's going to want me?"

"You are beautiful," he said. "Why don't we just see how it goes. What's the worst that can happen? They'll give you back the letter; they'll tell you they're not interested, and you'll feel hurt and embarrassed. But you'll never see them again, so who cares?"

Jim's story:

The club was packed, so it took quite some time for Clair to get to the bar and order a drink. Then, of course, she had to order another, and another. That was okay with me. We had all night, and I knew she was going to need some liquid courage. "As long as you hand it to someone by midnight," I had told her, "you can take all the time you want."

The club got more crowded as it got later. On occasion I saw her speaking to one person or another. One guy in particular spoke to her for quite awhile, and I thought he might get to be the lucky recipient. But he moved on without having received the letter. Then, at about 11, Clair started talking to a woman seated at the bar. It was obvious to me at least, that Claire was fairly drunk by now. Still, she remembers the night quite well.

Clair's story:

I was sitting at the bar and I started talking to a woman who had sat down next to me. She looked really sexy, and she was close to my own age. We talked for a while - about the bar, the music, what she did for a living. Joanne was her name, and she introduced me to her boyfriend, Brian, who was sitting on the other side of her. I liked her. She was funny and very nice.

I decided that Joanne was my best chance, so I told her about the little game Jim had cooked up. I told her I didn't really want to go through with it. God knows what Jim's freaky mind had come up with. And she said, "Why don't you give me the letter and let me see?"

So I gave her the letter. I figured Joanne would read it; tell me what it said. I thought she would get me off the hook.

Instead, she read the letter and laughed. Then, just as I was about to ask what it said, she told me to unbutton my vest.

"Show me," she said.

I froze for a couple minutes. For real, I couldn't even talk. Joanne just looked at me, waiting.

Then, with my whole body trembling, I did what she said. I unbuttoned my vest and held one side out just enough so that she, and hopefully no one else, could see that my tit was hanging free.

"Brian," Joanne said over her shoulder as I quickly pulled my vest closed, "come here. You've got to check out this material."

I watched as Joanne pulled her boyfriend from his barstool and stood him between us. Then, almost jumped as she took his hand and placed it on my stomach. "You're not going to believe how soft this fabric feels," she said as she started moving Brian's hand upwards underneath my vest.

When Brian's hand came to rest on my bare tit, his face wore an expression of shock and amazement. Mine did as well, I'm sure. When Jim had cut the holes in my shirt he made them rather small. He did it so that I couldn't mistake the feel of my breasts hanging like ripe melons on the front of my shirt. Now here I was, standing in the middle of a crowded club, and I had two hands, Brian's and Joanne's, squeezing one of those ripe melons. I made no move to stop them, but I did finally remember to close my mouth just as Brian's face broke into a broad grin. When he began pulling and twisting my nipple, I had to fight to stifle a groan.

"Excuse me," Joanne was saying to the bartender, "could we get a menu." Then she whispered for a moment in Brian's ear.

The next thing I knew, Brian had moved behind my bar stool and wrapped his arms around me in a big hug. He was kissing my neck and using one of his arms to shield his other hand from view as it pulled and tweaked my nipple. I was beginning to gasp for breath and feeling my pussy clench when, suddenly, Joanne turned towards me. In one quick movement, she handed me an open menu with one hand, and with the other she reached under the menu and right up under my skirt. Then she jammed her finger hard and fast straight into my wide-open cunt.

I started cumming immediately. I couldn't help it. I think I may have made some noise too - I'm not sure. All I know is that Joanne was pumping her fingers hard and fast into my cunt, and Brian was pinching my tits, and I was soaking the barstool with my cum. When I opened my eyes, the first think I noticed was a guy staring at me from a couple of seats away. I was very embarrassed, and quickly closed my legs. I could feel my ass slide on the seat underneath me and the seat felt very wet. I briefly wondered whether there might be cum dripping off the edge of the stool.

It's not often I've had an orgasm quite that intense. But now that I had cum, I was embarrassed as hell! I didn't want to think how many people might have been watching me. I made a point of looking down at the menu. God, if I could have found a hole to crawl into, I would have - particularly when it dawned on me how strong the scent of cunt was in the air.

So there I sat, pretending to read the menu, while Brian held me and continued to fondle my breast. In the meantime, Joanne had been waving her still wet hand in the air, trying to get the bartender's attention.

"A bottle of Bud," she told him when he finally came our way.

He brought the beer and Joanne got up and subtly parted my legs so she could lean into me and whisper in my ear. "Slide to the front of the seat," she said.

I did what she told me and, as I reached the edge of the seat, the cold reality of her intentions became clear. When I say cold, I mean cold! Putting one hand on the small of my back, she started sliding me off the barstool as she pushed that bottle of Bud into my cunt. I guess my cunt must have been wide open and soaking wet, because she got it about halfway in before she held it there and whispered again in my ear.

"Is your boyfriend here watching?" she asked

Trembling, I nodded yes.

"Okay, then here's what you're going to do. Without using your hands, you're going to take this bottle to your boyfriend. When you get there, you're going to tell him the drink's on us. And tell him the next time I see you in here, I'm going to have you eat my cunt."

"Now close your legs," she ordered. And with that, she took her hand off the bottle, turned me around, and gave me a slight push.

I was now mortified, of course. Here I was, trying to make my way through a packed club, and taking baby steps the whole way. I had to take baby steps to keep that damn bottle from slipping out of me! Not once did I look up. Well, maybe once just to see where I was going. And it seemed to take forever to make it through that crowd. Two or three times I felt the bottle slipping out of me and had to use my hand to push it back in even though Joanne had told me not to.

Finally, I was standing in front of Jim. He was sitting at a table towards the back of the club and wearing a shit-eating grin. I took a quick look around. There was a guy sitting on the other side of the table looking at me curiously. Aside from him, no one seemed to be looking. But that guy's eyes got big as saucers when he saw me reach under my skirt and take out a bottle of Bud.

"She said the drinks on them," I whispered in Jim's ear as I handed it to him. "And she said the next time she sees me she's going to make me eat her cunt," I said feeling my legs shaking beneath me. "Can we get out of here now?" I pleaded.

"Not till I've finished my beer," Jim said, taking a big gulp and pulling me down on his lap as he did so.

Jim's story:

I'm not sure there is anything I need to add to what Clair's told you. From where I was sitting in the club, I could only see some of what happened. Still, I think it was the hottest thing I have ever seen. I was incredibly proud of Clair. The whole thing took real courage on her part. The other thing that surprised me was how well they pulled it off. In that whole bar full of people, I don't think more that a few of them actually noticed what was going on.

Oh, there is one other thing I should tell you. Now it's Clair's turn. She gets to be the one to write the next "Letter to a Stranger" and I get to be the one who has to hand it to them.

I'm going crazy wondering what she has in mind.