The Vamp Room IV (Audio Script)

Stories

I can’t really remember how it started, this particular desire.

Like, I don’t know if I’ve always had it or some experience or something caused it to appear.

Based on that one psychology class I took in college, it’s probably the result of some subconscious need I’ve never had fulfilled.

Or maybe I just saw something on TV and that piqued my interest and made me want it.

I don’t know.

Either way, you’re the only person I’ve ever been able to… express myself with.

I mean, god, before we started dating, I don’t know if any guy had ever asked me what I wanted.

But you were different right from the start.

You make me feel safe, you make me feel like you’re willing to do anything to make me happy… fulfilled… satisfied.

And that’s why we’re here.

At The Vamp Room.

Had I not met you eight months ago, had you not encouraged me to open up and explore these desires I was having trouble understanding, then I probably would have just kept it buried deep inside and pretended it wasn’t there.

“Damn it…

Where did I put…?”

“What?

Forget something?

After all this planning?”

“No, I know I packed it…

Oh, here!

Got it.”

You pull a padded leather blindfold out of the bag, holding it up with a goofy grin.

I’m not surprised.

You’re always so organized, so well put-together, it would be unlike you to forget anything, especially with how much planning we’ve done for tonight.

When the Vamp Room first opened, all of the gear and rooms were just first-come-first-served.

Now that this place has turned into the premiere intense romance spot in the tri-state area, there’s a whole reservation system in place for using certain furniture.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go.

How about you?

Right?”

“Mmhm.

You remember everything we talked about?

Everything I want?”

“Of course.

I’m surprised you didn’t write out a script.”

“Safe word?”

“Istanbul.”

“Perfect.

Get in the chair.”

I slide onto the soft leather seat and lift each leg onto the attached stirrups.

The metal along the armrests sends a shock of cold through me.

The chair is simple.

A black leather seat and backrest on a steel frame.

But there’s attachments all along the headrest, the seat, and the back.

Bars with metal rings for attaching cuffs or various toys.

“Mm, look at you.

On display for me.

For everyone here.”

“You like to show off, huh?

Like to be watched by total, complete… strangers?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?

Well, here, let me help you show off a little.”

You reach up my thighs with both hands and pull down on the waistband of my underwear.

You lift each leg up and out of the stirrups and slide my underwear off, giving me a sly smile as you do so, before placing each of my legs back down.

The stirrups keep me spread wide open.

And there’s plenty of people walking by, looking at us.

Looking at me.

“This is what you fantasize about, huh?

Being looked at.

Being watched.

You like the idea of strangers hearing you moan… watching you passion…”

You attach white leather cuffs to the d-rings on each armrest.

And then… wrap the supple leather around each of my wrists.

I love the way they grip me.

Not holding me immobile, but keeping me from getting up, from moving my wrists more than a few inches away from the armrest.

Restrained, but not restricted.

“So… let’s put on a show for everyone.

Are you ready?”

“I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m ready.”

“Good.

I’m going to put this blindfold on you…

and when I do, you’re mine.

Your body belongs to me.

Okay?”

“Okay.”

You slide the soft blindfold over my eyes and secure the strap behind my head.

My senses slowly adjust to having my sight taken away.

The music seems louder.

I suddenly feel more sensitive to the sensations of the cold metal along the chair, the padded leather beneath me, the fabric of my dress.

I can feel everything ten times more intensely than before.

Not knowing when or where you’re going to touch me next…

not knowing how many people are watching…

my pussy clenches at the thought.

“I want to hear you moan.”

Your fingers trail lightly over my jaw and I jump a little from the anticipation, unsure of where you’re going, what’s coming next.

You walk your fingertips along the dip of my collarbone on your way down to my breasts.

You press one hand against me and your fingers drag slowly over my chest through my dress.

You slide your hand beneath the fabric and take hold of my chest with your thumb and forefinger.

You twist it, pinching and pulling.

Each time squeezing harder…

And then, suddenly, you pull away.

Such a tease, just how I like it.

“Mm, you’re greedy today, aren’t you?”

You’re… circling around the chair, I think.

Are you… behind me?

Your breath is… warm… against my neck.

Like you’re just hovering there…

“I’m willing to bet that you’re already wet right now.

Just being here is enough for you, isn’t it?

Just knowing that you’re… on display right now?”

“Mmm, why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Watch yourself.

That tone was dangerously close to bratty.”

“Oh, yeah, you are so wet.

Your pussy is glistening for us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah.

You’ve got quite an audience.

But you know, I bet I can make you even wetter.”

I flex my heels into the stirrups.

God, the anticipation is so intense…

not knowing what’s coming, not knowing when or how you’re going to touch me.

Your fingers trail slowly up my thigh… feather light…

just tracing little patterns, sliding down… so slowly… between my legs…

I push my hips forward to meet them.

Just to get you that much closer to actually touching me.

“B-baby…

Oh, fuck…”

“Yeah?

Tell me what you want.”