The Club is full.   People are crammed into every corner.   The music is loud.   To be heard you must shout above the din, and if you get a reply you can only catch every second word – guessing the rest and simply nodding when you can’t guess.   The entire place seems to be a swirling mass of humanity; some happy and shouting, some drunk or high, some just sitting by the walls watching, some lost in their own worlds.  A nightclub, but a nightclub with a difference.

You are wearing a polished black latex outfit.   It darkly reflects all that is around you.   The hour spent polishing it was worthwhile.   The latex clings tightly to every curve of your figure, not so much clothing you as presenting you – little can be seen of your skin, but nothing is hidden.   It is a cat suit, hugging your body in its tight restrictive embrace.   The long legs of the suit reach down to your ankles where they are meet by black shiny boots with four-inch stiletto heels.    The arms reach down to your wrists where they meet more latex, black gloves go back over the suit to your elbow.   The suit finishes with a tall collar that is fastened snuggly around your neck.   The collar is stiff and keeps your neck long and straight.   A single steel ring is embedded into the collar at your throat.    At the back of the suit, stretching from beneath the collar, down your back, and between your legs is a black steel zipper.   Only two zippers placed over the tight bulges of your breasts break the smooth curves of the front of the suit.    Your hands are loosely cuffed behind your back.    A leash is attached to the steel ring of your collar; it leads from you to me.

As we walk through the crowded rooms space is made for you, people step back slightly to get a better view of you.   The effect is to leave you walking down a corridor of people.    Men and women smile at you as you pass, a few yell sounds of appreciation.    You walk tall, swinging your hips, enjoying the eyes on you, and absorbing their looks of desire.    The voices filling the room are a wild international mix; English, French, German, Japanese, Italian, and Spanish.   The accents are varied and uncountable.    But moving through the room, the volume drops a fraction as you pass.    People pause their loud conversations to spend a moment looking at you.

All around you others are also dressed for the night; some in latex, some in leather, some in lace, some in little but skin.    The smell of people fills your senses, the smell of sweat and excitement.    The latex that hugs your body keeps you warm and you can feel your sweat against your skin, you are sure that you smell of the same things as the room; sweat, excitement, latex, rubber, leather, sex.

A particularly attentive person would note that the swing of your step is somewhat different from normal, and given the place where you are, and the clothes that you wear, they might make a guess as to the reason.    The suit hides virtually nothing of your form.    It clings tightly to every curve, to every muscle.    As you walk the movement of muscles and flesh beneath the suit can easily be seen, but the latex does hide some things from the casual glance.    An anal plug is pushed deep inside you and held in place by the compressed muscles of your buttocks beneath the suit.    A large phallus fills your vagina, also firmly held in by the strength of the latex.   As you walk they move inside you, are pushed up and down, back and forth, keeping you constantly aware of your sex and how it is being used.    But it is only the very attentive person that would notice, a few people seem to be aware as you pass of the reason for your unusual gait, but only very few.    The vast majority of people never get past looking at your breasts, where your two nipple rings are clearly defined beneath the tight latex.

We walk through the entire club, checking each room, this is partially so that we can discover all that is happening, but also so that I may savour the pleasure of seeing the different reactions in people’s faces as they see you led past.    Some people display outright envy of me, wishing that they could be the holder of the lead.    Others simply appear to want to take you on the floor.    Some of the women seem jealous of you, wanting also to have such an impression on a crowd.    I notice that a few people are in fact following us as we move through the club, their eyes never wavering from your black shiny form.

Eventually we find a place on one of the dance floors and spend a while moving to the heavy beat of the music.   I can see in your movements the way the two objects embedded in you are effecting you.   I increase the vigor of our dancing to increase the sensations you are feeling.    I could happily spend hours doing just this, watching your reactions.    I notice that once again a space has cleared around you, a circle of people surrounds you just standing, watching you as I do.   

Moving closer to you I let my hands slide down your sides, over your hips, round the smooth globes of your ass, then forward to cup them between your legs.  Looking up into your eyes I press upwards and watch the expression on your face change as the objects are driven deeper into you.  I know the look, but I will never cease to be excited by it – pleasure, fullness, some amount of discomfort – everything shows in your eyes.  The people around us do not miss the signs and they now also share the poorly kept secret of what is beneath the latex.  They to now focus on your emotions as you accept that you are now even more on show than before – previously they could see your outfit and your body beneath it, but now they have been given a window to your mind.  They watch as I continue to play with you, and slowly you drop what remains of your guard – letting your feelings flow freely across your face; open mouth when the objects are forced high; glazed eyes when your clitoris comes into contact with my hand through the latex

A bolder member of the crowd steps up to me, and yelling to be heard over the music says

‘Hallo meinem freund.   Ich finde keine worte.  Ich mochte einen tanz mit ihrer Freundin haben?    Ich verspreched, mit ihr achtzugeben.    Wenn ich das leash fur einen tanz gerade habe konnte?   Bitten?’

It is hard to understand him in the noise of the club, but I understand enough to know what he wants.    He is a tall blond man, probably about twenty-five, typically Arian in looks.    He is dressed in a tight latex top, which exposes well-muscled arms and covers a strong chest, and latex shorts that come down to just over the knee.    Heavy black leather boots complete his outfit.    I spend a few moments looking at him, trying to gauge him.   I nod my head, then pass him the leash.   I take a step back, but not far, I need to be able to step in quickly if the occasion arises.    Your gaze has been on us both as the exchange took place, but now it drifts to him as he steps up to you and placing his arm around your waist pulls you to him.    Your eyes widen as the force of his movement forces your two embedded objects deeper into you.

For a while the two of you dance alone but soon other adventurous people step up.   As each comes forward they look at me, and I slowly nod my approval.   The extra people make it harder to judge, but I keep my eyes on your face watching for anything that would tell me you are no longer comfortable.    Finally there are six men dancing around you, each with his hands on you, sliding them over the slick latex.   One of them slides his hand down between your legs, and feels something hard where it should be only soft.   He knows what is inside you and he passes the information on to the others.   Now their dancing is modified, they move you and touch you in such a way as to assure that the phallus inside you is pushed deeper and harder into you.    As their play becomes more physical and their hands more daring you close your eyes to them, allowing the sensations of their rough touch to fill your mind.    The sight of so many men touching you, playing with you, is exciting but now I want you back, so I move back to the first man and take back the leash.   As I walk away leading you, I can see the disappointment in the eyes of all the men.

We move to a slightly quieter corner of the club.    I kiss you hard, the sight of the men all touching you, wanting you, has aroused me incredibly.   I contemplate just taking you then and there amongst all the people.   Possibly in a place like this it would not a first, but then the fun would be diminished for the night.   I want to hold on to my arousal.    I want you to stay in a state of excitement for hours, I want your sex to be saturated with your excitement when I finally enter you.   I discard the idea.   To make up for the loss of not having you immediately I place my hands between your legs and force the two phallus’ as deep into you as they will go.   All the time watching your eyes, absorbing the look that flashes across your face as you feel the objects being rammed into you.

After a while we move again through the crowded club looking in at all the smaller rooms.    In one a man is tied to a cross while his mistress whips his back.   In another an elderly man dressed in leathers is whipping the breasts of a younger woman.   A crowd has gathered and is yelling for him to strike harder with each blow.   He wants to please the crowd so he obliges and the woman’s cries rise another notch.   Unusually though she is not bound, she holds her hands behind her back and thrusts her breasts out to meet the whip.   She could step away at any time, but does not.     I think to myself that this is the most erotic part of the show, her willing and active submission.    I turn to you and pull on your lead till your ear is close to my mouth.

‘Would you do this for me?   Would you stand unbound in front of a crowd and have your breasts whipped?’

You look at me but do not reply.    I open one of the zips at your breasts, take hold of a nipple ring and twist it.   You close your eyes and open your mouth to groan, but do not complain.   Pleased I released your nipple and close the zip again.    When I turn back to the show it has stopped.   The man is now kissing the lady who now is proudly displaying two very red and stripped breasts.

The activity in this room seems to have died down for the moment so we move on.   As the night has progressed the crowd seems to have lost what little inhibitions they had in the beginning.  The atmosphere seems to be half way between that of a wild party, and a B&D orgy.    The air is hot.    I am unsure of the time, it was just after midnight when we arrived, so it is probably somewhere about 2:00 in the morning now.   The crowd does not seem like they are ready to retire.

We move back to the dance floor.    Your face is flushed, I assume it is a combination of excitement and heat, I am sure that you are sweating inside the strict confines of the latex.    A lady walks past carrying a whip, casually swiping at people she passes.    She pauses to let a few strokes land on your latex covered ass, then smiling a devilish grin moves on.    I take some time to look around the room admiring the outfits, and the lack of outfits.   I decide it is time to play.

Pulling you over to me I reach out and undo the two zips at your breasts.   Without the strong latex and zips to hold you in, your breasts push out from the suit.   They make a fantastic image; large white breasts contrasting against the shiny black of the suit, silver nipple rings glinting under the lights.   You look at me, mouth slightly open, chest pushed out.    I allow my hands to reach for your breasts, sliding a finger through each ring and then lifting.    Your nipples stretch as they take the weight of your breasts, I pull slightly higher and your breasts are lifted from your chest.    You close your eyes, let your head fall back, and push your chest out towards me, offering your breasts.    I slowly lower my hands again and slide my fingers free, then pull you to me.  

I want to watch you being fucked, having your breasts tormented, your body used for pleasure.    But this once, I do not want to be the one doing it, I want simply to look into your eyes as it happens.   To watch your eyes as your sex is rammed full, as your breasts are handled, caressed, slapped, tugged.    To watch as your body receives pleasure and pain, as it is given an overload of sensations.    I want to watch and listen as you cry out in the height of explosive Orgasm, as you cry out in torment.

We leave the dance floor, and move to one of the smaller rooms.   As you move once again the crowd opens, this time all openly staring at your exposed pierced nipples.

The room is fairly quiet, and directing you to open your legs I reach down and open the zip between your legs wide enough to expose your sex.    With the zip open the juice of your excitement flows out from your sex and slides in thick drops down your leg.    I run my finger through it and lift it to my lips.   Sweet.    I slowly pull the phallus from your sex, ignoring the people who now watch.    It seems to slide from you forever, but finally its huge length and girth fall free, leaving your sex open and empty.    I guide you down to the floor, and when you lie spread in front of me I place my hand at your hot wet sex and slowly begin the act of driving it into you.    A small crowd of people now gathers as they watch your sex absorb my hand, first my fingers, then my fist, my wrist.    Once inside you I use my hand as a phallus, thrusting into you, filling you.    For a while I enjoy the pleasure of the feel of you, and the sound of you as I thrust my fist deep inside you.    I can feel the hardness of the phallus that is still deep in your anus through the thin wall of your vagina, it adds an extra dimension to my pleasure.

I am absorbed in my task when I feel a tap on my shoulder.   Standing next to me is the man who previously asked for a dance with you.    He does not speak, but just raises his eyebrows at me and inclines his head in your direction.    I pause for a moment, thinking, then nod my head.    He moves over and stands astride your chest and looks down at you on the floor.

‘Sagen hallo zu ihrer neuen Meister,   Erklaren sie mir ihren namen mein schones wenig sklave’.

You look up at him above you.   The music is still loud in the room and it is difficult to hear, but even without the noise his speech would have been to fast for you to translate.    Your mind is distracted as I continue to thrust my forearm into your stretched sex, and you do not answer him.

‘Ich sagte erklare mir ihr namens !!’ he pauses and waits for a response but again you can not understand his speech.   ‘Erklaren sie mir ihren namen oder ich verdrke ihren nippel !!!’   Again he stands and waits for your response, but again you cannot understand him.

He frowns and reaching down to your breasts he takes a ring in each hand and whilst lifting them high twists them.   You cry out and arch your back as he lifts your breasts high by your cruelly stretched nipples.   While still holding your tormented breasts he lowers his head and yells ‘I said what is your name slave !’  Finally you understand his question and gasp out.  ‘D, my name is D!!’.    He looks into your eyes  ‘Bitten sie mich gnade zu haben’  again you look blankly at him, not knowing what he wants  ‘Bitten sie mich gnade zu haben !!!’   You do not understand him.   Ha scowls down at you for a moment then jerks up wards on you nipples.    For a while he pulls and twists on you, before finally releasing your nipple rings and standing up straight again, now with a smile on his face.