The next evening begins much the same way. As the cab pulls up to the place (he'd arrived very promptly tonight), she steps out into the cold afternoon air. She reaches into her purse and removes some bills. As she hands them to the driver, she swallows hard and reminds him, "I will be seeing you this evening at 3:00 a.m., and suck your dick, as I did last night; and as agreed, at the end of the week, I will let you fuck me. You know I am a woman of my word; I will see you later."
She walks up to the doorman, removes her coat and hands it to him. She is now standing on the sidewalk, in broad daylight, today wearing *white* 1/2 cup bra, garter belt, fishnet stockings and high-heeled patent leather pumps. The big difference is that she has now (as instructed) shaved her tender pussy of its familiar protection; as the cold evening air blows across her body, her nipples harden, and so does her exposed clitoris. The doorman reaches out to her breast as before, but tonight he *pinches* her nipple, hard; and his smile has more of a smirk to it. Again in a near-whisper she says ritually, "I am tonight's entertainment." The doorman says in a coarse voice, "I'm sorry, miss; I didn't catch that...?"
In a much louder voice, she repeats, "I am tonight's entertainment." He grins cruelly. This time, as he reaches over and opens the door, he runs his hands casually into her pussy, and pulls it out again across the peak of her clitoris with a brusque motion, before ushering her inside.
She sees the now-familiar velvet-padded horse in the middle of the darkened room. She finds the same blindfold and nipple clamps (with heavier weights dangling from them tonight), dons them, bends over the horse, spreads her legs wide and waits. Eventually she feels someone fastening her ankles, thighs, wrists and elbows to the front legs of the horse, as before. Tonight the footsteps sound different somehow; before they fade away she suddenly realizes that all tonight's footsteps were of high heels like her own. Can that mean...? But she isn't 'into' women! Again she is humiliated to feel that old familiar twinge in her pussy (still somewhat sore from the night before); this time it is joined by a similar itch in her now-experienced asshole.
As the guests arrive she can hear them talking about her. All the voices are those of women. She feels a moment of hope; perhaps women will be kinder to her than last night's men were. At the same time, she is startled to realize that her hope is tinged with an obscure disappointment. Again, people push on the weights attached to her nipples, then laugh at her evident pain; but tonight's laughter is highpitched, and crueler-seeming than the men's. Some guests grope not only her naked pussy, but her ass as well; and the spanks on her buttocks are more frequent, and harsher. Finally she hears tonight's hostess make what must be the ritual announcement that she is tonight's "Party Slut" and that everyone should feel free to use her in any way they like. Tonight, there is no flogging whip; instead, the hostess steps briskly up and removes the blindfold. As the hostess (an aristocratic brunette in a designer original) steps away, the "entertainment" can now see the guests milling around her. To her dismay, she sees that many of them are grasping sex toys of various kinds; and more than one is wearing some variety of strap-on.
It is worse than the night before. A succession of cunts are shoved into her mouth, shaven and hairy, washed and otherwise; and any lack of enthusiasm is punished by tugs on her hapless nipples, or spanks on her reddened ass. Even worse are the sex toys, both hand-held and strap-ons, filling her pussy and ass as the whim takes their wielders. Some of these plastic and rubber monsters leave her worried that she would never recover; but somehow she bears up under the onslaught. Worst are the bitches who demanded that she suck their gigantic dildos, and mock her difficulty with swallowing these unnaturally gigantic instruments. The women are of all kinds, fat and slender, beautiful (but for their expressions) and ugly; but they universally carry that peculiar aura of wealth and arrogance that all rich women seem to acquire. As on the night before, no one ever speaks to her directly; but a number of catty remarks are exchanged about her inadequacies of enthusiasm, technique, lubrication and body.
Eventually everyone has used her in various ways, and she is humiliated to realize that she had had dozens of orgasms, all matters of indifference to these women who had used her as their toy; just as on the prior evening. Again, for the rest of the evening she is left in the middle of the room, her lips chafed, throat raw, pussy and asshole aching, her sorely stretched nipples throbbing with every beat of her pulse, and her own cum seeping from her exposed pussy; and again, no one was looking. These bitches have used her up, just like the men had; and now she is invisible to them as well.
After the last guest has left, she is released, given a glass of water and her coat, and escorted outside to her waiting cab. And once again, as promised, when they arrive at her apartment, she kneels down in front of the cab driver and suck his dick until he shoots his load down her aching throat.
As she falls into bed, she drifts off to sleep despairing at the thought of what tomorrow night will be like, and wondering if this was really worth it...
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