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The Longest Dance
   Copyright 2002 - 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved Story Codes: F/F,
M/F, Exhibition, Watersports, Rough, BDSM, Consensual This story has been
split for convenience into 3 parts.  See Part 1 for additional information.
   The Longest Dance by rache
   Part 3
   The back of the club was where the offices were, the storage rooms for
alcohol and cleaning stuff, and the changing rooms for the girls.  The
entrance was right be hind the DJ, a big black guy named Jason, but
everyone called him JayZee since that was tattooed on his forearm.  I guess
maybe his middle name started with a Z or something, or maybe it just
sounded cool.
   He was the hookup guy for dope, if any of the girls wanted any.  Ken ran
a clean place, but not that clean, and some of the girls always needed
something to make them shine pretty.  I scored off him once in awhile, just
a little crystal usually.  I was a speed demon, but I had it under control
and Jen didn't use at all, except maybe some ecstasy once in awhile when we
went clubbing.  So I just gave him a smile and answered his questioning
look with a little shake of my head, not tonight.  I needed to stay clear,
especially if I was gonna apologize to Ken.  I liked the guy a lot and I
didn't want to look all fucked up on top of everything else.
   The place was nice, even in the back, the way most places aren't.  The
owners tend to spend the real money up front where the customers can
appreciate it, leaving the girls to dress out in rooms like closets, except
not as nice.  Here the changing rooms were decent sized and there were 3 of
them, so that only five or six girls shared space together and usually not
even that many since they only used maybe eight dancers on a typical week
night.  Weekends were always crowded though.
   "You wanna change, I got some clothes in my bag." Jen pointed at the big
red carryall, like a huge purse, that was on the floor next to a table
covered with makeup and combs and brushes.
   "I'm gonna take a shower, I think." I reached down to unstrap my heels
while Jen lit a cigarette and sat down in a canvas director's chair,
stretching a little as she watched me.
   "I thought maybe you'd take off with those two guys out there." Jen
said. "I tried to talk them into it.  You do need to lighten up some."
   "Yeah." I sighed.  "But not with those guys."
   "Candy then." Jen shrugged.
   "Maybe." I took off my shoe and started on the other one.  I wasn't in
any kind of hurry.
   "What's it like?" She blew out a little cloud of smoke.  Jen didn't
really smoke, she just sort of puffed like it was something to do, not
really an addiction at all.
   "What?" I looked at her.
   "With Candy, in front of everyone like that." She was licking her lips
and I wondered what this was about.
   "I dunno." I shrugged.  "Like dancing, I guess.  I didn't think about
it."
   "Okay." Jen made a little face, like a half-smile.
   "Why?" I kicked off my other shoe and unzipped my skirt, stepping out of
it so I was standing there in panties and my damp t-shirt with my dark
nipples showing through.
   "Do you want me?" I asked, knowing she didn't, but I was in one of those
kinds of moods.  Self-destructive.
   Jen took a long time to answer and we just looked at each other until
she finally put her cigarette out.  "No, I don't know." She shook her head
and smiled.  "Take a shower, have a real drink and relax, okay?" She gave
me a little hug.  "I love you, Rache." And then she was gone.
   I stripped down completely, since I felt like I'd run a marathon.  My
t-shirt was damp with perspiration and my panties were soaked.  Only my
skirt was salvageable, if a little wrinkled, but that didn't matter.  I
picked it up off the floor and folded it, but the shirt and panties I just
wadded up and left on the table for later.  I went to the bathroom, which
was small but clean enough and found one of the dancers, Monica in there,
taking a shower.  She smiled at me as I walked in, wrapped in a towel
borrowed from one of the girls who had the night off, since whoever she was
she wasn't using it.
   The shower had no curtain, just a raised lip in the floor to keep most
of the water in the right place and the toilet was just a normal toilet, no
stall or door or anything.  I sat down on the toilet seat and watched
Monica wash her body slowly with a soapy washcloth while she watched me,
biting her bottom lip a little and I spread my legs for her so she could
see my cunt.
   "You like it?" I asked her, and I wondered why I was feeling so edgy
that night.  First with the guys, then with Candy, Jen a few minutes ago,
and now with Monica, whom I knew just a little, mostly from what Jen had
told me.
   I decided to blame it on the movie thing, agreeing to become a little
porn star for kicks, more than money.  It had been twisting my head all day
and probably all night too, although I'd tried to forget about it and
mostly succeeded.  Still, here I was sitting on a toilet and showing off
for another woman.  I needed to pee badly, but I was holding it, wandering
what she wanted, or even if she wanted anything at all.  I was edgy as shit
and I felt like I wanted everything.
   "Yeah, I like it." She nodded.  "You wanna come in here with me?"
   "No." I shook my head.  "You come over here." I could feel that little
rush coming.  I was forgetting where I was again, what I was doing.
   Monica was older than me, older than a lot of the girls who danced,
which means she was somewhere around 28 or 29 probably, looking at thirty
to life and still stripping.  That had to fuck with your head, I thought.
And she was sub, like me, I could have seen it in her eyes if I hadn't
known it already.  I got the lowdown on all the girls from Jen, of course,
getting the juicy gossip over breakfast every morning when my roommate got
home and I got up.
   The woman had blonde hair, but the water made it dark and she combed it
back with her fingers under the spray.  Monica had a round body, nice hips
and a flat tummy, with generous breasts that sagged, just a little, which I
always found appealing.  I hated fake tits with a passion and I thought the
imperfections were what made a person truly attractive.  Monica's heart
shaped face was pretty with clear blue eyes, and her skin was white so that
under the bright fluorescent lights I could see the old telltale bruises
across her breasts and thighs.  Not much, just a little discoloration, some
yellow and a bit of blue that wouldn't even be noticeable in the club
proper.  It made her vulnerable and beautiful.
   Someone had treated her to some love a week before, I thought, and I
felt vaguely jealous.  I'd have loved to see her tits whipped and knowing
she was into it just made it better, urging me to do what I needed for the
moment.  Always for the moment.  I smiled to myself as Monica turned off
the water and walked over to me.  She didn't bother drying off; the whole
place was damp and tiled anyway.  I watched her sex, a little landing strip
of brown hair glistening with drops of water.  It seemed to move left and
right as she walked, and hidden beneath a little grown camel toe that
looked so cute I wanted to bite it.
   "Get down here, get your face down here, bitch..." I breathed and my
heart was pumping hard.
   I didn't get to top very often, but when I did it was fun.  I'm a
switch, but only at the right time and in the right place.  Alone with a
subbie slut like Monica in someone else's bathroom it was perfect.  I was
finally going to get off after Candy had made me suffer my stifled needs. I
felt so worked up it was almost painful
   Monica knelt slowly in front of me as I sat there, her face reddening
and I slapped her cheek hard as soon as she was down.  "I said get your
face down here!"
   "Oh!  P-Please..." She started to protest, but it was just part of the
game.  This was real life D/s and we didn't need costumes or props or an
audience.  Just her need to be dominated and my sudden urge to control
something.  It was sexual, to be sure, but it went far beyond just that for
both of us and that's something you either get, or you don't.
   I leaned back against the cold porcelain tank, sliding my butt towards
the woman a little and presenting her with my cunt.  I didn't have to ask,
she went immediately to it, kissing my skin and stroking my thighs with her
hands.  A lot of the strippers were lesbian, and nearly all of them
bisexual.  Girl's like Jen, who were straight, were something of a rarity
in that little world, but I thought she was changing.  Slowly but surely
and I figured the little scene with Candy had turned my roommate's head a
little.
   The one time we'd done anything it had been good, but not really.  As I
felt Monica's mouth working my sex I closed my eyes, imagining she was Jen
and wondering if she and I shouldn't try our luck again, or maybe Jen would
just like to watch me and Candy really go at it.  I was breathing hard and
my heart was pumping harder, but I wasn't going to cum, not yet.  First I
had to relieve my bladder, which was getting a bit uncomfortable.
   "I'm gonna piss..." I told Monica, opening my eyes and she just looked
up at me, her tongue working across my slit and I knew she wanted it.
   I let go slowly, as if my muscles were reluctant after too long waiting,
but finally my pee came with a heavy stream of warmth into Monica's pretty
face.  She opened her mouth, taking it over her tongue and swallowing.  She
was a real water freak and this was what she'd been waiting for in that
shower, someone to come in and give her what she needed.
   I took a good long piss, smiling at the woman as she drank as much of me
as she could and let the rest run off her cheeks and chin, down her neck
and over her breasts.  She bathed herself in it, rubbing my urine into her
cunt and then frigging herself hard as she went back to my pussy, licking
and sucking my pussy wetly, savoring every small drop of moisture she could
get.
   "God, you taste good." She said with a low husky voice, breathing hard
and watching my face.  "Do you want to cum?"
   "Yeah." I nodded.  "I need it bad."
   She didn't say another word, she just went to work on my sex and it was
good.  She was a serious pussy licker from way back and I soon lost myself
in the stimulation her talented mouth and tongue were giving me.  She
fingered my cunt while she sucked my clit raw, making me squirm and moan
and then finally find the release I needed so much.  Monica drank my cum
eagerly, taking the whole of my sex in her mouth at one point and shaking
her head from side to side like a dog with a toy, chewing my tender flesh
gently and bringing me off so good that I saw stars.  All I could do was
shiver and moan and clasp my thighs against the woman's ears.
   "Oh shit, thanks...thank you..." I was panting, smiling foolishly and
licking my bottom lip weakly.  I was breathless and red faced and utterly
relaxed for the first time in a long time.
   "Mmmm...my pleasure..." Monica laughed lightly.  "You wanna come over to
my place?  I live alone."
   "Hmmm..." I sighed, thinking that could be a lot of fun too.
   "I have a really nice bathroom." She grinned at me, sitting back on her
knees and rubbing her pussy gently.  "Rubber sheets too." Monica leaned
forward, kissing my left knee.  "I'll fuck your brains out." She whispered
and I believed her.
   "Next time." I promised the woman, leaning forward as well so our faces
were close together.  "We'll do everything, okay?"
   "Mmmm...everything..." She laughed.  "I hope you're not bullshitting
me."
   "I'm not, I swear!" And I was laughing too.
   "You know, you slapped me pretty good." Monica rubbed her cheek, which
was still a little pink.  "I heard you were into kinky stuff."
   "I'm into everything." I shrugged.  "Right now I think I need to get
into the shower though."
   We showered together, washing each other and giggling like school girls
when Jen opened the door and peeked inside at us.
   "I was wondering what was taking so long." She clucked her tongue and
gave me sort of a hopeless smile.  "Your boyfriends left already." Jen shut
the door before she could see my unconcerned shrug.
   "You have a boyfriend?" Monica looked at me.  "I thought you're a dyke."
   "Huh?" I grinned back at the woman and reached up, stroking her breast
gently.  "I don't know...I'm just me."
   In Jen's changing room I found a thong that was one size fits all, as
thongs tend to be, although some women I'd seen wearing them definitely
didn't fall into the `all' category.  It was silver and flashy and it went
okay with my black skirt, not that it mattered all that much.  I found a
matching top, silver and shiny, small and tight, like a half-tee that
covered my breasts and shoulders but that was about it.  I brushed my hair
and put on some too red lipstick, a little eye shadow and that was it.  I
just wanted to look good for Ken, as if it might make a difference.  He
dealt with pretty girls in trouble every single day, so I wasn't going to
be any big deal.
   I bumped into Monica again coming out.  She'd dressed and looked nice
and normal, white designer jeans and tight black t-shirt with a leather
jacket.  She was on her way home and she asked me again if I wanted to come
with her, pun intended as she ran her fingernails across my bare tummy.  I
had to shake my head though and I took a sharp little breath as she
shrugged and turned away, slipping through the curtains and past JayZee
while I fortified myself to knock on Ken's door.
   I didn't know if he wanted people just walking into his office or not,
so I knocked and waited, then knocked again until he finally called for me
to enter.
   "Oh." He was sitting at his desk doing some kind of paperwork, and he
looked surprised to see me.  "I was wondering who was doin all that
knocking." He smiled then and pointed at a chair near his, just to the side
of his desk.
   It wasn't a large office, not fancy or anything.  Big enough for his
desk and a few chairs, a little sofa, more like a love seat sat against one
wall to my right, and a little table with a coffee pot and a half open box
of donuts was on the other side to my left.
   "Want a donut?" Ken gestured.  "My wife thinks I'm too skinny.  Makes me
bring them in every night.  I think she has a fetish." He chuckled and I
smiled, shaking my head and sitting down in the chair.
   "Is that her?" I asked, pointing at a framed photo on his desk and
shifting a little, crossing my thighs self-consciously.  Ken had a way of
making me self-conscious, probably because he reminded of my dad, although
he was much younger.  It was the attitude.
   "Yep," Ken sighed a little, nodding his head and leaning back.  He
looked at it for a moment and then looked at me.  "Soooo...You had some fun
tonight."
   "Yeah, I'm uh...sorry.  I didn't mean to..."
   "No harm done." He held up his hand, cutting me off.  "Candy knows
better anyway, you're a customer." He grinned.  "Customers take as much as
they can, she was giving too much, that's all."
   "It wasn't her fault, really." I licked my lips.  "I was teasing the
guys and, well...I'm sorry Ken."
   "Hey, like I said, no harm done, Rache.  Nobody got hurt; we made a lot
of money..." He tilted his head a little.  "...You coulda made a lot of
money tonight."
   "Nah, I'm okay." I shrugged.  I was feeling better now that I knew Ken
wasn't totally pissed at me, I felt the edge going a little and I relaxed a
bit.  "I get too much money and I start getting in trouble." I laughed.
   "Hey, that's why I'm here." He was selling me, leaning back and acting
cool, but I could feel it.  "I keep my girls out of trouble."
   "I know." I nodded.
   "I watched you with Candy, it didn't look like you were having a bad
time." He watched my face, speaking slowly.  "You know there's a market for
that sort of thing.  Not here, but in other places, another club I keep an
eye on."
   "A market for..." I narrowed my eyes, unsure of what he was talking
about.  "...you mean like sex shows?"
   "Yeah, sex shows, floor shows, stage acts, whatever you want to call
it." Ken nodded, still smiling.
   "I thought that was illegal or something." I stared at him, wondering if
he was just messing with me.
   "It's a private club, sort of a gentlemen's club.  Members only.  The
entertainment is legal, so long as the girls doing it are entertainers." He
chuckled.  "It isn't dancing, Rachael."
   "I see." I licked my lips, not really seeing at all.  "And this uh,
gentlemen's club, you run that too?"
   "I'm one of the owners, but no.  There's a full time manager, a girl
named Vicky, she's got a good head." He leaned forward.  "You could make a
lot of money, Rache.  I'd bring Candy over too, she's already agreed."
   "Me and Candy?" I swallowed a little.  "I don't know, I...I've got
school and..."
   "It's just on weekends, 3 nights from nine til whenever, sunrise
usually. You get a salary, none of this percentage business.  You keep half
the tips and whatever you get on the side..."
   "On the side..." I nodded.  "...you mean like hooking."
   "It's a private club, Rachael, what goes on in there is between you and
your friends."
   "I see." My heart was beating a little faster as I thought about what
Ken was saying.  It sounded an awful lot like he was talking about a
whorehouse more than anything else, just dressing it up with fancy words.
   "You're gonna do that porn thing, right?" He wasn't really smiling
anymore and I nodded, swallowing hard.  "You feeling okay with that?"
   "I don't know." I held up my hands a little and uncrossed my legs,
shifting uncomfortably.
   "It's a black hole, baby." Ken looked at my legs and that was the first
time I'd ever caught him checking me out.  "Those guys aren't going to let
you go without insurance."
   "Insurance?" I blinked at the word, wondering what that meant.  I had a
feeling like I was getting into something way over my head suddenly.
   "Protection, someone to watch out for your interests.  Guys like that
find a girl like you, young and sweet, all alone, Rache..." Ken licked his
lips, nodding to himself.  "I'm just saying I like you, I wanna take care
of you."
   "You wanna pimp me, Ken?" I laughed nervously, but I was just
half-joking.
   "Nah." He grinned, rolling his chair a little on the carpet so he could
get closer to me.  "A pimp is a nigger on a roll.  I'm an agent, like a
manager, Rache.  I take care of my girls." He reached out with his hand,
touching my knee and sliding his hand up along my thigh.
   I hitched a breath and felt my body tingling.  This was a Ken I'd never
seen before, not really, and it seemed strange.  "I don't know.  I just,
uh...I need to think about it."
   Ken's hand was pushing lightly on the inside of my left thigh, parting
my legs slowly until he could see the shiny silver of my g-string.  I was
breathing hard and I gripped the soft cushioned arms of the chair I was
sitting in.  My other leg was opening too, without any help at all and my
tummy was getting knotted up the way it does when I'm getting excited.
   "What do you want, Rachael?" Ken asked me softly.  "What are you into?"
   "Anything." I breathed.  "I like uh..." I licked my lips and my body
tensed as Ken's fingers touched the nylon covering my slit.  "...I like
bondage and..."
   "You want me to spank you, Rache?" Ken stared into my eyes.  "You want
me to get Candy in here to watch?"
   "Ohhh..." I let out the breath I'd been holding while he spoke. 
"I...yeah, I don't know..." I was shaking a little.  This was a serious
guy, not like Rich or Jeff, or a hundred other guys I could name, Ken was
the real deal.  He'd love me or beat me, whatever I wanted, and enjoy it
either way I was sure.
   "You come with me and you can do whatever you want, in front of fifty
strangers..." He cupped my vulva in his strong hand and gave my sex a
squeeze, digging his fingers into me painfully so that my ass came out of
the chair.  "I know what you want." He promised.  "Let me give it to you,
baby."
   Ken seemed like a changed person, but then again so was I.  My heart was
pounding and my lungs ached, like I couldn't get enough air no matter how
hard I tried.  He pulled my out of the chair, literally, with my cunt in
his hand.  I was gasping from the sensation of it, the pain, you have no
idea how that feels until it happens.
   He turned me around, pushing me over the desk quickly and the edge of it
was hard and digging into my tummy as Ken leaned against me, his left palm
flat in the center of my back.  His right hand, the one he'd been squeezing
my pussy with grabbed me once again, this time from behind, ripping my
thong away violently as I struggled, not so much against him, but against
the discomfort of my position.  And then his fingers pushed into my slit,
stretching the tight folds of my cunt as two and then three, and finally
all four of his finger were inside me.
   I was screaming, thrashing as my body protested this rough treatment,
but Ken was chuckling, knowing it was what I really wanted.
   "Get your ass up, Rachael..." Ken grunted as he suddenly pulled upward
with his hand, like he would tear my cunt right out of my body, but of
course he didn't.  Instead my feet came off the floor for a second and it
seemed like an explosion had gone off in my sex.  I was cumming, so quick
and hard all I could do was bang my fists on his desk, scattering papers
and pens, knocking over his family photo so I could stare at the man's wife
and children while he raped me.
   It wasn't really rape, I mean I was there, I wanted it so bad it hurt
even more than what Ken was doing to me.  But it wasn't consensual either,
not like sex should be.  This was violent and hard and brutal.  Ken let me
back down, but I was barely aware of it.  I had my legs spread wide enough
that my feet barely reached the floor.  All of my weight was on my tummy
and chest.  The next vivid sensation, the one that brought me back from my
climax, was Ken slapping my pussy hard.
   He kept his hand on my back, pinning me down, and growled at me to keep
my legs spread, but it was so hard like that.  The first one had taken me
by surprise, a hard smack of his palm, and it felt like I'd been punched,
or kicked maybe.  It had rocked my body and driven the air from my lungs,
so that my mouth hung open silently, my face turning red as I tried to
scream.  My legs closed, as they had to, instinctively trying to protect
myself and Ken pushed my thighs apart, telling me to spread until I did and
he spanked my pussy again.
   We did this for a long time, 10 minutes I think, or longer, I don't
know. It was slow and painful and between every slap I'd have to find the
strength, the willpower to spread my legs wide, to invite the man, and
finally beg him to hurt my cunt.  It was humiliating and exciting and a
test that I enjoyed.  Such a small thing, such a simple thing, and so
wonderful like that.  Another time, another place he might have used a leg
spreader, or simply tied my ankles, but this was better.  It made me his
accomplice and the knowledge gave me a succession of small orgasms to wash
away the pain.
   When Ken had had enough he pushed his cock inside my raw and swollen
sex. It was good and painful the way he stretched me inside.  I felt like I
was on fire down there and every inch of his penis seemed to make it both
better and worse as my tender walls were split around him.  Ken grabbed my
hair, pulling it hard with his right hand while his left pressed into the
small of my back.  I groaned and jerked upright, my body bending, my
breasts thrusting out and up as my head was stretched so that all I could
see was the ceiling.
   I whined and moaned and tried to tell him he was breaking my back, but
all that would come from my lips were hoarse whispers and guttural moans of
painful pleasure.  My scalp burned and it felt as if the skin would rip
from my skull, I imagine him pulling my hair out and I closed my eyes as
hot tears ran down my cheeks.  He was fucking me hard then, slamming his
thickness inside me, working his hips and trying to find the angle that
would cause me the most pain.  It was punishment fucking, for his pleasure
not mine, and I sobbed and shivered and my cunt collapsed around him as I
came again.
   I was lost when Ken let go of my hair, dizzy and disoriented and
suddenly my breasts and face fell back to the desk.  I was sore and burning
all over.  My cunt felt like it had been burned with acid, or fucked with a
torch.  Ken was still inside me, moving with long deep strokes and gripping
my hips with both hands, he was cumming, finally and I felt his sperm
flooding my womb, spreading through my sex as if it might soothe my pain
somehow.  He held himself there for a long 3 or 4 minutes, his hands
massaging me gently while he caught his breath.
   "You're a good fuck, Rache." Ken breathed finally, pulling out his cock
and wiping it on the damp flushed skin of my ass.  "I knew you would be,
Jesus."
   I couldn't say anything, my body hurt.  My pussy and my head especially.
I couldn't believe I still had hair left and I explored my scalp with my
fingertips gently.  I had my cheek on his desk, on some papers now stained
with spit and tears and snot.
   "Don't worry, you're okay." Ken laughed softly.  "Can't break a girl
like you, not fuckin possible.  Give me your arm." Ken stepped to the side
of his desk, so that he could see my face and I moved my left arm slightly
closer to him.  "Be at this address, nine sharp Friday night.  If you need
a ride just call a taxi, the guy at the door will take care of it.  Don't
be fuckin late."
   Ken gave my shoulder a little squeeze and I gave him a weak smile.  It
had been a monster fuck, I thought.
   "Now go on, get the fuck out of here.  I got work to do." Ken jerked his
head towards the door and I pushed myself up slowly, feeling a little rush
of juices come spilling from my cunt down my thighs.
   I paused at the door, turning to look at the man.  Ken looked like he
always did and it surprised me a little.  "Hey..." I said, waiting until he
looked at me, "...thanks."
   "For what?" He wanted to smile, but he didn't, unsure of what I was
going to say.
   "Saving from those porn guys." I gave him a grin and he shook his head
as I closed the door.  Now I just had to figure out a way to tell Daddy I
was gonna be a whore, but how hard could that be?  He woke up expecting it.
   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
   End of Part 3 End of The Longest Dance rache696@yahoo.com
  
longest dance 3