Bedtime Story No. 2
SeeDy
A/N: This is a 4-chapter story of mine that I originally Right now
put up on *that other fanfic place* ~ I'm moving it over to AFF because I'm
getting ready to put up my sequel to this story, which will be rated NC-17 also.
R&R, please! ^_^Chapter 1 ~ SeeDyQuistis Trepe
combed her red-haired wig into ponytails, alone in her dressing room, 10 minutes
before it was her turn on stage. Another night at the Blue Kitten lounge.
Tuesday. One of the slowest nights of the week. But it didn’t matter. She knew
she would at least make some money tonight, and money would bring her
closer to her dream, closer to moving on with her life.
She looked at herself in the cracked vanity mirror – if you could call it a
vanity. It was merely a longish wooden table scarred by cigarette butts and
permanently colored with dabs of lipstick and pink blush. Quistis sat wearily in
front of it, the blue neon light of the hotel next door flickering sadly through
the dressing room’s thin curtains. Her eye makeup was heavy, dark brown with
black liner, and she had penciled her eyebrows a darker brown than they really
were. Once she put on her red wig, as she did night after night, no one would
recognize her.
Which was the whole point.
The door to the dressing room opened and Carin, manager of the Blue
Kitten, came in, wearing her bathrobe and smoking a cigarette, “Are you just
about ready?” Her voice sounded as tired as Quistis felt.
Carin leaned down in front of the vanity mirror and fluffed her bleached blonde
hair. As she did so, her robe drifted open a little and Quistis couldn’t help
but notice her huge bust, which was barely concealed by a lacey black slip.
Quistis heard that it had been Carin’s claim to fame when she was young –
about 20 years ago. Carin was the only person Quistis had ever met that actually
enjoyed being a stripper. But she had lost her looks and figure years
ago. Now her job was to pack herself into the tightest dress possible and chat
up all of the Blue Kitten’s male customers so they would stay longer and spend
more money.
“Yes,” Quistis said and draped her wig over the back of her chair. She
removed her faded pink robe and hung it on the coat rack next to her winter
coat.
“You should start taking clients,” Carin said from behind.
“Not yet,” Quis said. She took out the shopping bag with her costume in it
and began to look through the small pieces of clothing for her panties.
“Kid,” Carin grabbed her arm and twirled her around, “don’t lose your
chances. You got a great figure. Once that goes, you ain’t makin’ a dime
around here.”
Oh, I’ll be gone LONG before that,Quistis thought
to herself.
“Don’t worry about me. I can
take care of myself,” the former instructor whispered. She found her black
thong panties and began to pull the little bit of fabric up her long legs.
“But I do worry about you, kid,” Carin said, examining her chubby figure in
the mirror, “cause you ain’t got no sense of your own.”
With that, Carin turned toward the door, cigarette in hand, as Quistis pulled
her short sweater over her head and arms.
“You’re on,” Carin said and left the dressing room, slamming the door
behind her. The door had been warped years ago. If you didn’t slam it, it
would only drift open again a few seconds later.
The former teacher, standing barefoot in a black thong and white button-up
sweater, fished a short black and white pleated skirt out of her brown shopping
bag. She shook a few wrinkles out of it and then put it on. It barely covered
her ass. The men of the Blue Kitten Lounge loved it when she wore a cheerleading
outfit, and she couldn’t understand why. Looking in the mirror once more to
check for tears or stains, she saw that it was plain black and white wool. No
big deal. She heard the thump thump thump of the night’s familiar music
and hurried to put on her white anklets and sneakers. After that, she pinned her
pony-tailed wig securely on top of her blonde hair. She didn’t want it flying
off during the finale.
The reflection she saw was not someone she knew – tumbles of red red curls,
short wispy bangs across her pale forehead, and eyes like a vampire. She quickly
brushed her cheeks with powdery pink blush and colored her lips with cherry
gloss.
She was no longer the perfect Quistis Trepe. That Quistis was dead.
She was now Mikki Blue, stripper.
The dressing room door banged open, “Get your skinny ass out here!”
Carin yelled and then slammed the door shut again.
Mikki picked up her red and black pom-poms and headed out for the stage.
The Blue Kitten was a small theatre, old and dimly lit. Which she was
thankful for. She didn’t want to see her customers. But sometimes she
couldn’t help it when they came to the edge of the stage to
give her money. Even then she didn’t really look at the men. Night after
night, she merely did her act and went home.
Carin turned off the e lie lights briefly as Quistis (Mikki) took her
place. The lights came up the same time as the music. It was an anonymous filler
song sung by a girl no one knew:
Right here
I want you
On the floor
looked out at the crowd distractedly and saw no one, but the cigarette smoke was
there. That meant they were there.Do you want me, too?
The way I want you?
Or are we through?
Are we finished
Playing hide
Playing peep
There was a chair in the middle of the stage, and as the cheap dance
music swelled, she turned her back to the audience, placed her hands on the
chair, and shook her bottom at them. Leaving her poms on the chair, she skipped
away from the crowd long enough to undo most of the buttons on her sweater. When
she turned toward them again, only one button remained undone, and that was
between her breasts. There were now three men leaning on the front of the stage,
waving money at her.
As Mikki danced over to the first man waving his hard-earned gil, she
noticed Carin in back by the bar, dressed in black, talking to Mori, their
bartender. At the edge of the stage she squatted down for the gil and at the
same time opened her thighs so the customer could see the bulge of her
thong-clad pussy. The anonymous-looking man pulled out the fabric of her panties
for a brief glimpse of her lips before Quistis took his gil and danced off to
the other side of the stage. There she collected money the same way until she
saw a man holding up a 20-gil note. For him she showed both her ass and pussy.
Once she had everyone’s cash, she slowly danced over to her pom-poms and
tucked the money inside the hollow handles.I need you
To go so deep
Do you need me, too?
Deep, deep
Please do it deepThe cheap dance music thumped on. Mikki had it memorized. It was porno
music – a synthesizer, drum machine, and someone’s girlfriend on
vocals. She knew exactly how much time she had left and danced seductively with
her poms until she spotted a man waving 50 gil. Him she allowed to remove and
keep her thong, giving the whole crowd a brief look at her blonde-furred sex. She
quickly covered herself with a pom, which brought another crowd of men to the
edge of the stage, waving their money.
By the time the music ended, Mikki was left wearing only her sweater,
ankle socks, and sneakers. As she danced, she used her pom-poms to cover her ass
and pussy, giving the men a peek every now and then. She gyrated to the back of
the stage for the finale, removed her sweater, and then cart wheeled into the
spotlight, completely nude, doing the splits just before Carin dimmed the
lights.
It wasn’t high art, but it kept the men coming back night after night.
And it paid her rent.
Quistis ran into the dressing room and put her robe on, shivering. It was
December now and the Blue Kitten was chilly backstage. Out in front the heat was
turned on for the customers, but in back there was little to no warmth. Quisty
didn’t bother to shut the door behind her. Carin would soon be in with her
costume – the cheerleading skirt and sweater. Besides chatting up the crowd,
it was also Carin’s job to collect costumes.
“Hey, kid!” Carin came in smiling and shut the door firmly. She had
the costume and plopped it down on the vanity unceremoniously, “Tonight’s
your lucky night!”
Quis unpinned the wig from her hair, “How’s that?”
She had 20 minutes to rest before her next set.
Carin pulled up one of the room’s rickety wooden chairs and sat by Quis,
“One of the customers made an offer for you.”
“What kind of offer?” She put her wig on its stand and started
thinking about what costume to wear next. It didn’t do the customers any good
making offers for her. She never took any of them.
“An incredible one,” Carin tapped Quisty’s arm to get her
attention. Quis wasn’t sure exactly how old Carin was, but judging by her
face, she had to be at least 45. There were deep lines around her eyes and
mouth, which she tried to powder over to cover up. That only succeeded in making
her face look like a wicked witch mask. Plus, she had cold eyes. Quis suspected
that at one time in Carin’s life she probably had pretty, innocent blue eyes.
Now they looked like there mre made of metal.
“Is it …,” Quistis started to say.
“No, listen,” Carin said, “he’s offering 100,000 gil for one
hour.”
Quistis stopped what she was doing – removing some of the ruined makeup
from her face, “What?”
“100,000 gil for one hour.”
That was crazy.
“What does he want?” Quisty asked, “Something really sick?”
“I was totally on him about that. He said an hour of straight sex. But
he wants to remain anonymous. He wants you to wear a blindfold and have your
hands tied.”
“That sounds too dangerous, Carin. I’m not gonna do it, even for a
hundred thousand gil,” Quis said with finality and stood up from the vanity.
She stretched and grabbed her shopping bag to look through her costumes. There
was so little fabric to them that quite a few of them could fit in a
regular-sized bag.
Before Carin went back out he fhe front she made one last comment, “In
case you’re wondering, he’s good-looking. And young – probably around your
age.”
“Then what,” Quis turned to Carin, “is he doing paying me 100,000 gil
for straight sex?” Carin was wearing a low-cut short black dress with her
boobs practically falling out of it, but she looked all right for the Blue
Kitten - cheap and easy.
“Maybe he’s from a rich family,” Carin shrugged. With that she left
the dressing room, slamming the door. This time Q couldn’t tell if the slam
was from the door being warped or from Carin being mad. After all, if Quistis
took the job it would be 25 percent off the top for Carin. Even 25,000 gil was a
lot of money. But 100,000? Q shivered thinking about it and wasn’t sure
if it was excitement or the room’s coldness. That someone would offer that
much money for her!
She decided on the Galbadian Army costume and checked it for wrinkles.
Not that wrinkles mattered in this profession. It was a short blue shirt with
phony medals on the lapel, a pair of blue low-rise shorts, and black boots.
The shorts had a zipper, which was nice. More suspense that way. She took out
another pair of black thong panties from the bag and was putting them on just as
Carin blazed back into the room,
“All right!” She said, breathing hard, “I gotta quit smoking or
I’ll be dead before I’m 35.”
Suuuure, Q thought to herself, pulling her underwear up over her
butt.
“He’s offering 250,000 gil,” Carin said, leg agg against the door.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand?” How crazy was that? Quistis
didn’t like the sound of it. Once she was alone in the room with him, anything
could happen.
“I know what you’re thinking and I put conditions of my own on this
little date.”
“Like what?” Quistis grabbed her robe from the coat rack and put it
on quickly. She was shivering worse now, her skin breaking out in goose bumps.
“I’ll check him out and inspect the room before you go in. I’ll
handle the money, and I’ll be waiting outside until he’s finished. But now
he wants an hour and a half.”
Not an easy decision. Quistis knew that taking this job would be
significant in one way especially, and that was when she finished she would be
more than just a stripper. She would also be a prostitute. A common ho.
But 250,000 gil?
That would bring her a lot closer to her dream.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The hotel next door was formally the Railroad Street Hotel, which wasspelled out in old-fashioned bronze letters just above the frosted glass front
door. Overhead, its neon sign flickered with the word Hotel only. No one
cared. No one in their right mind ever intentionally stayed overnight there. It
was an old decrepit hotel, dusty and dim, that smelled like stale body odor just
inside the lobby. However, the rooms were cheap, and the desk clerks were known
for renting to anyone who had money, no questions asked.
As Quistis and Carin made their way from the Blue Kitten to the hotel, a
light snow drifted down from the night sky. Quisty had put on her cheerleading
outfit again, since it was such a hit, and her winter coat over that, which she
clutched tightly around her body.
In the hotel they totally bypassed the front desk and headed up the
stairs to the second floor. Carin and the client had decided on room 203. The
client had already paid and handed over the key, all while Quis re-did her
makeup, dressed, and put her wig on again.
Room 203 was no better than the rest of the hotel, but it had a private
bathroom. As Carin inspected the room for weapons and extra people, Quistis took
off her thick wool coat and draped it over the arm of one of the room’s
tattered armchairs. The curtains were thin here, too, and the light from the
neon blue Hotel sign flickered throughout the room.
If I live to be one hundred, I never want to see a neon sign again,
Quistis thought to herself.
She tried to close the curtains a little more and then went to sit on the
bed. The client was already outside the room. He had followed them over, and
after Carin checked everything, he would come in.
“Just the regular crap in here,” Carin said and reached into her
purse. She brought out a black silk scarf and then a thin satin rope, black
also, which reminded Quis of a curtain tie.
“Come on,” Carin said and helped Q get into position. The client
wanted her to stand in the middle of the room with her back to the door,
blindfolded, hands tied in front, fully clothed.
As soon as everything was set, Carin left quietly. The hotel was quiet.
Which was probably typical of a Tuesday night. The only sound was her own nervous
breathing and the intermitten zzzt zzzt of the neon sign outside. Death? Strangulation? A severe beating? She was really taking
her chances for 250,000 gil.
But it’s 250,000 gil!
Even with Carin outside the door, the client could still go off on her
and hurt her. It was definitely a gamble.
Being blindfolded heightened her senses, and after a few minutes she
heard the raspy click of a doorknob turning. Her breath quickened.
He’s coming in.
The door opened with a slight creak that she hadn’t heard earlier. It
closed slowly with a soft click. Not only was she breathing hard but her heart
was racing. Quistis tried to calm herself by thinking it’s all right,
it’s all right – just let him do his thing and get the money. Even
though she had been cold earlier, beads of sweat were starting to break out on
her forehead.
The room went silent again.
Quisty desperately wanted to say are you there, but Carin told her
that the client requested no talking. She bit her lip and stood still, waiting.
At length, she heard quiet footsteps behind her, getting closer. As if he were
sneaking up on her. Then she felt it distinctly – a tug on her skirt followed
by a weirdly soft hand on her bottom. She tried not to flinch. Was he wearing
leather gloves?
The warmness of breath caressed her ear, “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt
you,” he whispered. Quisty relaxed a little.
His clothing rustled for a moment and then she felt a tug on her skirt
again. This time he put both of his hands on her ass and cupped and squeezed her
bottom. He had taken off his gloves so he could feel her flesh with his bare
hands.
“Mmmmmmm,” he whispered, “damn.”
The client lifted Quisty’s skirt up and tugged at the thin waistband of
her thong. He pulled it away from her skin a little and then patted her bottom.
She could hear him moving around her, walking softly. It sounded like he was
going to the other side of the room. Something creaked and rustled. The bed?
In a moment he was up on her again, but this time in front.
“Relax,” he whispered.
A tug on her skirt. She expected to feel his hand on her sex. Instead,
something cold and hard settled against her skin. Quistis sucked in her breath.
It was heavy, yet soft. As it moved up her thigh, over her hip, she realized
that it had some length to it. She breathed and felt his breath, lightly on her
face in little puffs. He smelled slightly of alcohol. But then who wouldn’t
need a drink before doing something like this? Quisty wished that she had had
one.
The coldness moved up her hip to her belly and slipped under the elastic
waistband of her black and white skirt. There it paused briefly before pulling
away from her in one quick violent motion, making Quisty cry out. After that her
skirt fell away from her hips easily.
Oh my god! A knife?
And then she realized it wasn’t a knife. It was too long for that.
Good job checking the room, Carin!
He reached out to run his fingers over her belly and she was surprised to
suddenly find his lips on hers. With his face close to hers, he said, “The
best is yet to come, Quisty.”
Quisty?
Her mouth fell open and she blushed, becoming sweaty and hot.
He knows me! How …?
The stranger pulled her white sweater away from her body and effortlessly
cut the top button off of it. He did the same with the second and third buttons
until her breasts were exposed. However, this was one of the rare times that
Quisty wasn’t naked under her sweater. She had decided to wear a bra that
matched her thong.
She felt that he was pausing. He was motionless. Then the smooth coldness
of the blade came up against her skin, sliding upward between her breasts, under
her bra. He pulled forward quickly once and Quisty’s black leather bra sprung
open, allowing her pink-nippled breasts out into the cold air of the hotel room.
She gasped, feeling her sex becoming aroused.
The client’s breathing became ragged. He reached up and cupped her
breasts, sucking on first one nipple and then the other, feverish about it,
moaning.
“Mmmm mmmm mmmm,” was all he said, kissing her there. He squeezed her
breasts together and flicked his tongue over both of her nipples before burying
his face between her firm beauties and licking her skin.
She was getting wet and couldn’t help but writhe a little in her spot.
Whoever he was, he knew how to tease nipples. Whoever he was. As he ran
his lips lightly over her hardening buds, she tried to think of who knew her
that had 250,000 gil to spend on an hour and a half with a girl.
Laguna? Rinoa’s father?
They were the wealthiest men she knew. But Carin had said the client was
young like Quistis, about her age. And she had let him into the room. There
couldn’t have been a switch.
He stopped, took his hands off of her breasts, and led her to the bed.
“Kneel,” he whispered, helping her by placing his hands on her
curvaceous hips.
She did as he said. When she was in position, he said, “Sit,” and
gently pushed her hips downward so that she was sitting with her legs folded
under her. Then his hands went to the back of her head. He untied her blindfold,
“Look at me and I fuck you for free,” he said in her ear.
There was no way she was giving him a free one, no matter who he was.
She kept her eyes closed.
Once the blindfold was off, his fingers began to tug at her hair. Quistis
felt slightly alarmed at what she suspected he was about to do, but what did it
hurt now? He already knew who she was. Just as she thought, he took the pins out
of her hair and removed her wig. It hit the floor with a soft scratchy puff.
After that he moved away from her and the next thing she heard was the water
running in the bathroom. When he came back, she was surprised to feel warm
wetness and something rough against her face.
He’s washing my makeup off!
“Don’t open your eyes,” he whispered. When he was finished, he
said, “There’s the Quisty I know.”
He was speaking too quietly for her to figure out his identity. As she
pondered whom he could possibly be, he put the blindfold back on her. His
clothing rustled again and Quistis heard a distinct zip!
Okay. Here it comes.
The bedsprings creaked. She felt a definite pressure from the other side
that was undoubtedly him climbing on. But what position he was in, she didn’t
know. She also didn’t know what he did with the sword. At first she thought he
was crawling toward her, but then she realized he was standing on the bed in
front of her. He reached down and untied her hands, then took her fingers in his
own. He placed them on the bulge in his pants. His cock was like a hammer inside
the smooth leather.
“See what you do to me?” He said, guiding her hand over his erection.
His clothing rustled a little more and then his hand went behind her
head, pulling her toward him. She felt what was unmistakably the tip of his
penis graze and push against her lips. Quistis opened her mouth just a little.
He was the client after all. He would tell her what to do. The large soft head
pushed against her mouth again and then slipped inside gently, making her gag.
His penis was thick. As soon as he became seated in her, he cupped her
face tenderly in his hands and began to move his hips back and forth. Quistis
stayed with him, sucking and licking as best she could. After a few minutes he
began to moan, his breath coming faster. It was hardly any time at all before he
said,
“Oh, shit!”
And she felt the first spurt of his semen against her tongue, then
against the roof of her mouth. Spurt after spurt, he came, bucking his hips and
shoving his cock deeper inside her, the head of it bruising her throat. He cried
out pitifully as if he were dying, moaning, his body twitching. When he
finished, his cock slipped out of her mouth and she could feel him falling back
on the bed, motionless.
The room grew silent. After a minute or so, he rasped,
“Don’t move.”
She didn’t. Even though there was a sticky spot of cum at the corner of
her mouth she didn’t move her tied hands up to wipe it off.
How long Quistis sat at the edge of the bed waiting was hard to tell. It
felt like forever until bedsbedsprings creaked again and she felt the weight of
his body moving closer to her. In reality it was only about 5 or 10 minutes
until he took her hands in his own and pulled her toward him.
“Lay down,” he said and placed one hand on her arm, guiding her
closer to the bed’s headboard and then positioning her on her back, her head
on a pillow.
Breathing softly, he pulled her hands up – to what, she couldn’t
tell, but the tie became hooked on something over her head. He grabbed the front
of her sweater and tore it open quickly. The buttons clattered to the floor and
he took the remains of her bra off of her. After that he removed her panties and
got off of the bed. Quistis sucked in her breath, wondering what he was up to,
until she felt his hand on her foot and then the softness of fabric. It felt as
if he were tying her bra around her ankle. Finished with that, he moved to the
other side of the bed and did the same to her right ankle. He was tying her legs
apart.
Quisty gasped for air as she felt her heart beginning to race again.
“Wait until you get a load of this one, Quis,” he whispered and got
back on the bed.
He lay down on his stomach between her open naked thighs. A wet touch on
her lips made her cry out involuntarily until she figured out that it was his
tongue, which calmed her somewhat. With his fingers he separated her labia and
began to lick up and down her pussy. While it’s true that at one point she was
starting to get wet for him, she had also spent quite a bit of time being
afraid, and that had an adverse affect on her sex. Her pussy felt shy as the
mystery man flicked up and down her lips.
Quistis tried to relax. After all – he knew her. And it was his
Quistis that he wanted to be with. She examined the inside of her black
blindfold as he worked, until she felt two of his fingers enter the mouth of her
sex. She cried out and moved against his hand, especially when he located her G
spot about 2 inches into her opening. He curled his fingers up and massaged her
there, which made her cry out again and hump his hand.
He whispered into her pussy, “Didn’t I tell you, Quissy, that this
was incredible?”
She felt her liquid gushing out of her and heard a wet smacking sound as
her client fingered her pink opening. When he was satisfied that his
ministrations were correct, he began to lick up and down her lips again. By this
time her clitoris was peeping out from under its hood and he found it easily,
flicking it with his tongue as he worked his fingers in her.
Quistis knew she wouldn’t be able to take much of this. Her orgasm was
already building and he had only been busy a few minutes. Now she knew why he
wanted to tie her legs apart and her hands up over her head. She couldn’t help
but writhe against him involuntarily on the bed, moaning with pleasure.
The client rubbed his lips against her bulging clit, nuzzling it, sucking
on it like a nipple. Her sex was becoming wetter from his rhythmic stroking
inside her and Quistis began to make an unintelligible unh unh unh sound
as he licked and fingered. Finally the first wave of pleasure pulsed through her
thighs, culminating in the apex of her clitoris. She felt herself throb and
spasm in his mouth as he had done in hers and she screamed,
“Cominggggggg!”
Her hips twitched up against his face, feeding her sex into his mouth
greedily, as her orgasm careened wickedly through her body from her belly to the
top of her head and back down all the way to her toes. Quisty writhed and
screamed as he massaged her thighs, which took her orgasm even higher, to a peak
that was nearly unbearable. He stayed with her clitoris and continued
massaging her G spot until she breathed,
“I can’t take anymore … I can’t take anymore …”
“Damn,” he said, making slurpy noises, which were starting to sound
far away to Quistis, “finger-lickin good, too."
She lay limp against her ties, sweaty and weak. Even his slipping off of
the bed again sounded far away to her. Suddenly all she wanted to do was take a
little nap. He could do what he wanted. She was too tired to care.
Just a 10 minute nap ….
Quisty was starting to drift when she felt him untie first one ankle and
then the other. She felt the heat of his body and smelled his maleness as he
reached up and took her hands down from whatever had been holding them. Quis
knew that in another life it probably would’ve felt good to be lying on the
bed in a natural position again, like a corpse, but in her current state she
really didn’t care. She also didn’t care as she felt him slip his hands
under her knees and grasp her that way, repositioning her until she lay sideways
on the bed with her open sex toward him.
In a daze she heard him fumbling with his clothes and metallic kerplink
just before a hand wrapped around her shapely calf.
His belt is hitting the floor …, she thought weakly.
When he was finished with that he grabbed both of her legs and pulled
Quistis further toward him on the bed. At last she felt his skin on hers and his
probing member against her sex. It was like a blind man seeking entrance to a
place he couldn’t see but knew he needed. He poked along Quissy’s pussy lips
until he finally found the place he wanted and launched himself forward hard.
She groaned and moved against him as he began to thrust repeatedly, saying,
“Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah …”
She guessed him to be about 7 inches and thick. Three or more
inches, probably. Lucky for Quistis her sex was still incredibly wet from her
orgasm. Even then, he slipped out of her easy enough, but pushing in again was
more difficult. She winced with the pain of it as he entered her repeatedly.
“Fucking Quistis,” he whispered, “how many guys wanna get you like
this?”
He was holding her legs up so close to his body, spread out in front of
him, that only her shoulders and head were still on the bed, moving with his
hard thrusts.
After what seemed like forever, Quissy’s mystery client moaned and
cried out,
“Ooohhhhhhhhhhhh!”
He pushed deep into her pussy once, twice, then three times, groaning.
She knew he was coming. The sound of their fucking became wetter and his body
jerked between her thighs. He gripped her harder, gasping, until he was
completely finished. Then he fell on top of her, as numb as she was.