VRX 9000: Sex Games / Random Mistress (21).
From Create Your Own Story
VRX 9000: Sex Games
Random Adventures - Pixie's Punishment
Part 3: Meeting the Mistress
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The Story:
You slowly come to a heart-wrenching stop as you spot the table you are heading towards, more than a little surprised and worried by it's occupants. The booth is filled to the brim with ghetto black girls each trashier than the next. You immediately lose any sort of hope that your mistress is attractive, each girl that you focus on is either fat, ugly, or both. You almost turn around on the spot, standing in place hidden going over in horror in your head imaging one of these women commanding you to do all of those things each night for the past months. If you had known you would have never of done any of that. Your face turns pale and your stomach does flips as you realize it doesn't matter now, you did all those things and now she has you. Giving a long drawn-out breath you steel your resolve. You'll give this ugly bitch what she wants then you'll go home and be done with this. You slowly step forward and take a better look as you inch closer, a faint bit of hope rising in you as you spot one or two some-what attractive girls. You blush angrily knowing you are just kidding yourself, you've never found black women attractive. You'd rather do absolutely anything else than let any one of these women touch you. Yet step by step, you walk up to the booth and all eyes turn to you.
That is when you spot her, your mistress. You have no doubt in your mind that it is her, mostly hidden in the back corner by the ghetto trash. She is about a hundred times more attractive than the other girls, her long black hair straightened and well-cared for. Her hour glass figure is perfect, large firm breasts completely hidden under a tight black shirt that doesn't go down past her breasts yet goes all the way down her arms in elegant fashion. Her stomach is flat and on the verge of abs and her ass is thick and shapely, made of muscle instead of fat like most of the other girls. Her thighs are thick and athletic and her waist is slim with brown skin that you can tell is soft to the touch from here. Her tight black jeans show off every curve and the edges of her black panties stick up along her hips just making her ooze sex appeal. You are stunned and have to admit to yourself that she is extremely attractive. You gain a small sense of hope back, but find yourself unable to speak too shocked by the whole experience to do more than stand there and stare.
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The woman leans forward and gives you a knowing smile confirming her as your mistress. Before she can say anything one of the bigger black girls stands up from the edge of the booth and walks towards you intimidatingly, looking you up and down before over to the woman in the center. "This the bitch you were talking about, Morgan?" She spits, grabbing you by the hair roughly before pulling you to her.
You can only stare at Morgan while wincing, hands coming up to your hair in defense gasping in pain and blushing in anger as the bigger woman just man-handles you. Morgan is the name of your mistress. It is similar to the screen name she used, "MorganaX9". You like the name. Morgan glances at the larger woman and nods and to your surprise she wrenches your purse right off of your arm roughly then goes back to sit down. You consider going after your purse for a brief moment, cheeks flushing, but instead stand there and look back to Morgan as the black bimbo riffles through your things.
"I see you made it on time, Pixie." Morgan speaks calmly over the loud music of the club, a smug look on her face. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, gaping pathetically as you try to think of something to say back to her. What would you say? Demand she erase every thing she has on you? Promise not to send anything? Tell her to give you your purse back? You find yourself as meek as a mouse, finally closing your mouth looking to her obediently. Are you really so pathetic? Morgan just looks all the more smug. "I can see you understand how this is going to be." She continues before taking a sip of her drink. She gives you a good look over then before sitting up and looking at you with an annoyed look. "Hmm. I don't like the tank top or skirt. Take them off." She demands, eyes showing no hint of mercy.
Freezing like a deer in front of headlights from her words you can't find it in you to move. Take off your mini skirt and tank top? She wants you to strip practically naked in the middle of the club? There are other girls hardly dressed elsewhere but even this would stand out. You can't do it. You can't! Especially not with this entire table of ghetto trash staring you down. Your lips mouth a protest a few times before you finally close them again blushing furiously. You don't have a choice. Your life is ruined if you don't do what she says. Fuck. You run your hands up and strip out of your tank top letting your soft, pale breasts pull free almost bouncing right out of the pink string bikini making you continue to blush furiously.
"Damn, she is actually doing it." One of the black girls yells out, laughing.
"What a little slut." Another yells out.
Trying to ignore them and the massive rising heat in your cheeks and failing you slowly slide your hands down and unhook a button on the side of your mini skirt, simply pulling it off of you. Your ass bounces free getting a few more hoots from the booth making you look down to the floor in extreme embarrassment. You are standing in the middle of the club with just two pink strings across your chest poorly hiding your nipples and another thin string running between your legs hiding only your bare essentials. Your ass and tits are hanging out for anyone to see as you stand there trying not to curl up in a ball clutching your mini skirt and tank top with a shaking grip. Less than ten seconds after stripping to your bikini you get your ass squeezed by a girl walking by making you jump and whimper. The girls at the booth get a hoot out of that.
It takes every ounce of self control you have not to run out of the club or to the bathroom, or even to cover yourself. You are starting to shake. Inch by inch you slowly pull your arms away from your body letting your mistress look. Eventually you manage to look up and meet Morgan's gaze and her eyes indicate for you to place your clothing on the table. You meekly step up and place them there, the items getting snatched up by the ghetto mass in an instant leaving you completely vulnerable.
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Which card do you pick?
