The clatter of ice against glass startled Anne, dragging her back to reality. Glancing down the bar, she spotted one of the bartenders pouring an amber liquid over the ice cubes he’d just emptied into a small whiskey tumbler. In front of him a young woman smiled giddily, watching him add several more measuring cups of various liquids into the glass; whatever the drink was, it certainly wasn’t whiskey, and by the time he’d finished and pushed the glass over to her, the contents were ruby red.
A knot tightened in Anne’s stomach as she caught sight of the handsome young man stood beside the woman. He was smiling too, though his eyes were fixed on her beaming face. He gave a bark of laughter as she took a sip, bright excitement lighting her face.
It must’ve been over fifteen years since anybody looked at me like that, she thought sourly. She didn’t miss the way the man looped his arm fondly around the woman’s waist and held her close as they turned and made their way through the crowd. And I can’t even remember the last time Peter held me that lovingly. That little brat, on the other hand…
No, she reprimanded herself firmly as images of Clio rose in her mind. I’m not thinking about her tonight. Besides, it’s not as if any of this is her fault. He told her he was single.
Anne wasn’t sure what she hated more: that her envy felt like acid in her veins, or that she had automatically blamed Clio for the fact she was stood alone at Club Fantasy’s bar wondering where exactly her life had gone wrong.
Maybe it would have been easier if Clio had been in on the secret, at least that way Anne could have made herself feel a little better by putting most of the blame on her. But that wasn’t how things had happened. Clio had not seduced Anne’s ex-husband. She hadn’t lured him in with the promise of sex or the chance to relive his youth. She was simply a pretty young woman twenty years Anne’s junior who just happened to be attracted to older men, an attraction Peter had decided to exploit. What was more, after Anne had outed Peter’s infidelities to her, Clio had immediately severed all ties with him and spent several weeks apologising profusely to Anne for getting involved with him in the first place.
Even so, a deeply irrational part of Anne still wanted to hate her. Because if she could somehow pin the blame on Clio, Anne wouldn’t have to admit that if anyone was to blame, it was her. Simply put, she had married the wrong man.
And now that marriage was over. She was alone and emotionally adrift. Purposeless.
Taking a deep breath, Anne tried her best to push her troubles out of mind. She’d come here to get away from them, after all. Having spent the past few months wading through the ramifications of her ex-husband’s affair, she was tired of waking up every morning angry or heartbroken. Now the divorce was officially settled, she wanted to do something besides sit at home and cry.
If she was honest, Anne wasn’t entirely sure what it was about Club Fantasy that had piqued her interest. Granted, though it hadn’t been open for very long, the club already had a reputation for unforgettable nights, and even she had heard the rumours that lives could be changed within its walls – whatever that was supposed to mean. The club even branded itself as providing new beginnings, a promise that had enticed Anne more than she cared to admit.
Whatever the reason, she had felt oddly drawn there, pulled by a force she didn’t quite understand.
Then again, she was beginning to think coming to the club might not have been the best idea. Not only did she appear to be the oldest customer in the building by some margin, but being surrounded by happy, dancing couples enjoying their youth was only salting her wounds, a stark reminder of everything she had lost. More than that, the feeling that she would never experience true happiness like theirs again was persistently gnawing at her heart.
‘Can I get anything for you, ma’am?’
Anne jumped, then immediately cursed herself. She’d zoned out again. She hadn’t even noticed the bartender approach her. He was smiling warmly but Anne felt mildly sick with him looking at her.
What must I look like to him? He must think I’m absolutely pathetic.
While she had made an effort to look good for the night, she still looked very much the woman who had just been through a harrowing ordeal. Without the time or energy to dye her hair recently, her silver roots had grown out several inches; her dress, though sleek and modern, wasn’t quite the right fit, giving away the fact that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go shopping for a new one. And no matter how much makeup she applied, nothing could fully conceal the dark, puffy bags beneath her eyes.
When appraising her look in the mirror earlier that night, she’d forced herself to be optimistic and overlook the flaws. But now, under the gaze of the handsome bartender, she felt awfully foolish. I don’t belong here.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, pushing away from the bar and into the throng of dancing patrons.
Unsure what else to do, she allowed herself to be carried along by the flow of bodies. Loud music pounded out around her, flashing neon lights scything over her head. The air was thick with love, lust, perfume and alcohol.
Eventually, the crowd spat her out, depositing her like driftwood on a beach at the mouth of a quiet corridor. Well, quieter than the dancefloor at least. Several people were slumped on the floor sleeping softly, the drink clearly having proven too much for them, while numerous couples made out in the corridor’s relative privacy, pushing one another up against the walls as their lips crushed together and their hands wandered.
If anything, Anne only felt more out of place here than she had at the bar. After all, she wasn’t naïve to the fact that the ‘unforgettable nights’ Club Fantasy was reputed for went a significantly beyond good music and potent drinks. There were also more… intimate amenities on offer; private places where all manner of fetishes and fantasies might be explored at one’s leisure.
As if to verify her suspicions, a few sensual moans drifted from further down the corridor, followed by a resounding crack and a sharp cry.
Without really thinking what she was doing, Anne began wandering down the corridor. She was vaguely startled to realise arousal was beginning to swell within her, although she didn’t have the energy to force it aside, not when the breathy moans seemed to draw her deeper, luring her along.
It wasn’t long before the entrance was lost from view. The sounds of the club vanished with it, plunging Anne into what felt like a different world: here the only thing on the air was sex, carnal lust permeating the atmosphere.
Anne stopped suddenly in front of an open door, seized by an urge to enter. She frowned. It was the same strange pull that had drawn her to Club Fantasy in the first place – a kind of magnetic attraction.
No, more than that. A siren’s call. She wasn’t just being drawn into the room, she wanted to enter. Somehow – though she hadn’t the first idea what made her so sure – she was certain there was something powerful inside. And whatever it was, it was waiting for her and her alone.
Stepping through the door, Anne took in the room. It was a broad space with an open archway over to one side which lead into a bedroom of sorts, a huge four-poster visible beyond. The whole place seemed entirely misplaced in the club, everything about it at odds with the ultra-modern aesthetic of the dancefloor. Sparsely furnished, with most of the space dominated by a large rug and lit warmly by lights shafting through curtains drawn over one of the walls to mimic the shine of sunrise, it looked designed more for meditation than anything else.
And yet the glossy latex evening gown draped over the ornate sofa set beneath the faux window inspired anything but calm.
It was a stunning piece; the slate grey material was so polished she could see her reflection staring back at her, and though it exuded lust from every stitch it was almost hypnotically elegant, the lower third loosely flared and a little black bow nestled between the cups of the bust.
Anne didn’t even hesitate. Suddenly possessed by the need to feel the latex against her skin, she ignored the open door and hastily disrobed, peeling off her dress and underwear, kicking off her heels and tossing aside her jewellery. For whatever reason, the dress had drawn her here, she was sure of it, and now she was finally in its presence all she could think of was slipping herself into its tight embrace.
The dress was far from a perfect fit. Her diminutive breasts looked ridiculous in the cleavage-enhancing bust, her weedy frame left the material loose in several places, and she could have done with a few inches of additional height to prevent the hem dragging along the floor.
Even so, it felt good. It felt sexy, something Anne hadn’t felt in a very long time. She certainly didn’t want to take it off, that was for sure. Eager to seal herself in, she reached around to zip up the back.
The second the zipper hit the top, her transformation took hold hard.
Almost instantly both the natural silver and dyed brown of her hair had been washed away by lush blonde locks that fell to her exposed shoulders, while further down beneath the latex she felt her untrimmed bush of pubic hair retract into a neatly shaved triangle crowning her pussy, which itself had tightened with a burst of orgasmic pleasure.
All the imperfections blemishing her skin rapidly faded, old scars and stress-induced wrinkles smoothing over to leave her flesh soft and perfect, clear as a fresh canvas. At the same time she was filling out too, her skinny frame expanding into mesmerising curves which were only enhanced by the gleaming latex hugging her new figure, every tiny movement setting her dress rippling enticingly. Her ass and breasts ballooned as one, swelling so sharply she was left gasping for breath while her dress creaked under the strain, her new assets pushing it to its limits.
She felt as though she was being moulded by the dress, crushed and shaped into a form truly worthy to wear it. It was so hot; it was all she could do not to cum.
The sudden shift of her facial features acted as the finishing touches to her erotic transformation. Soon, Anne’s hawkish looks were gone, replaced by an expression with seduction written in every line: hypnotic eyes framed with smoky shadow, full lips set in a permanent pout, and severe brows that could have eviscerated any man’s ego with a single disapproving twitch.
Then, to complement her new look, the additional height she needed to perfectly pull off the dress manifested itself as a pair of black PVC platform boot heels.
Running slender fingers over her perfect physique, her huge tits jiggled as she groaned. Raw desire cascaded over the new woman like she was standing at the foot of a waterfall, saturating her right down to her soul.
And with it came a profound understanding. Anne wasn’t gone. Not completely. Instead the dress had twisted her into something new by drawing out the deviant within and transforming her body into a vessel more befitting a woman of such a hedonistic disposition. Streaks of the old Anne had been interwoven with – and warped by – the power of the dress to create an entirely new persona. The fury Peter’s betrayal had churned up within her was still there, only now it took the shape of a need to punish, dominate and enslave; the longing for purpose had been filled by an all-encompassing craving for carnal pleasure. Her desperation for love, meanwhile, was now a burning desire to have a pathetic slave submit to her in mind, body and soul.
Placing her hands on her hips, the new woman eyed the clothes she had been wearing before. As if withering beneath her gaze they abruptly dissolved to nothing. She smiled. They were Anne’s clothes and they had no place here. Because she wasn’t Anne anymore.
She was Aiden. And she was here to stay.
A passionate moan drifted in through the open door, stirring her arousal. Her loins felt as though they were burning and there was a persistent dull throb of orgasmic energy nestled in her hips.
Fuck, I haven’t felt this horny in over twenty years. This is so fucking good. I feel like a goddess. A wicked smile twisted her lips. And a goddess deserves to be worshipped.
A wave of desire rippled through the dress at the thought, triggering a vision in her mind’s eye. A young woman was picking her way along a dark corridor, stepping over sleeping bodies and avoiding drunk couples making out passionately against the walls. Aiden recognised the hallway immediately – and when the light from an adjacent room washed over the woman’s face, Aiden realised she recognised her too.
‘Of course it would be you,’ she whispered. She glanced over to the archway leading into the bedroom. Racks of sex toys lined the walls around the bed. Her smile broadened. ‘I think it’s time I prepare to greet my guest,’ she said, her voice dripping with lust.
Her mind already dancing with sinful ideas, Aiden swept from the room. A moment later, a slim woman was silhouetted in the open doorway…
Clio didn’t know what had attracted her to Club Fantasy tonight.
Granted, after spending the last several months crying herself to sleep she had been longing for something to take her mind off things – especially once she’d heard that Anne and Peter’s divorce had been finalised – but until only a few hours earlier she’d barely had the energy to drag herself out of bed, let alone head out clubbing.
Peter’s betrayal had hurt her deeply. For almost a year he had duped her into believing she’d found a man who truly loved her. And for a while it had been perfect; they’d shared romantic meals at expensive restaurants, made love passionately deep into the night, and formed a firm bond together – or at least so she’d thought. Peter had even whisked her away on relaxing weekend stays, excursions she’d later discovered he’d explained away to his wife as work training courses.
But Peter had never loved her. In hindsight she could see his true intentions. The meals and weekend breaks had been methods of seduction to lure her into bed and affirm his façade of affection, when all he really wanted was to fuck a younger woman.
Clio still wasn’t sure which wound stung more: the fact that she’d fallen for him so completely that she hadn’t realised how he was using her, or that her blindness to who he really was had destroyed the marriage of an innocent woman. In the months since cutting Peter out of her life, every thought of Anne had twisted her insides with guilt. Deep down, she knew there was only one person responsible for ruining Anne and Peter’s marriage, but the thought of how the older woman must perceive her still plagued her nonetheless.
In fact, for the most part, it wasn’t thoughts of Peter which had been playing on her mind; she’d had relationships end badly before, and while it still hurt she knew she would pull through.
Instead, it was Anne she was plagued by.
Many nights since she’d laid awake wondering if the older woman realised how much she had genuinely loved Peter, or if all Anne saw in her was a young slut looking to tempt a married man. Did Anne think she’d seduced her husband? Did she hate her? Did she pity her? Did she realise how desperately Clio wanted to make things right between them, even if the guilt she felt was utterly irrational?
And now it seemed she was so desperate to distract herself that somewhere along the line she had thrown caution to the wind. After all, there were certainly tamer places to spend her first night out after such a difficult breakup. Everyone knew Club Fantasy was a breeding ground of sin, a place were nothing was off limits and sexual expression was revered above all else.
Yet something unexplainable had lured her there, like a lighthouse guiding her lost, battered vessel safely home on a stormy night. Whatever it was, it had drawn her silently into the club’s darkened corridors, pulling her ever deeper until…
Clio stopped so suddenly she almost fell over. The door to one of the private rooms was thrown wide, warm light spilling out into the hallway, and it was almost as if she was trapped by its glow, unable to go any further or retreat back the way she’d come. She felt like she’d been caught in a tractor beam.
As she peered into the room though, she sensed something deeper at work. The room wasn’t just calling to her, it was promising her something. Belonging. Peace. Redemption. It was pulling on her very soul, and with every passing second its power was working its way through her system, corrupting her before she had even stepped foot inside.
Maybe this place really does offer new beginnings, she thought. God knows I could use one right now.
Stepping cautiously inside, the light washed over her, illuminating her pretty features and slim build. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid and her glittery dress sent dazzling reflected patterns dancing across the walls; wretched as she felt inside, outwardly she looked for all the world like a gorgeous girl in search of a good night out.
Clio took a moment to take in the room – the plush sofa, the towering oil painting, the huge bed peeking through the archway to the adjacent chamber. For all its grandeur though, it was the bundle of rope sat in the centre of the rich rug that caught her attention.
She frowned. It hadn’t been there before she entered. Or at least, she didn’t think it had. In truth, she couldn’t entirely remember – she was finding it more than a little difficult to focus.
To make matters worse, the sight of the rope had stirred something submissive within her. Her pussy began to drip as she imagined her hands bound tight behind her back, her ankles lashed to her legs, her body rendered immobile in unyielding bondage. It was her darkest secret, the sensation she craved more than anything else in the world; submission was her happy place. It was why she favoured older men: they tended to have both the experience and maturity to satisfy her submissive desires in a safe, caring manner.
Clio couldn’t help herself. Without thinking, she knelt down and picked up the bundle, intending to caress the smooth fibers.
Then, energised by her touch, the rope burst into life.
The magic rope moved with a speed unlike anything Clio had ever seen. Within the blink of an eye it was up her arms, winding around her neck and snaking down her torso to tangle around her thighs. Before she even had the time to try and toss the bundle away it had unravelled completely, leaving her hands empty, and after only a few seconds she found herself totally restrained, locked in the rope’s tight embrace.
Yet as the rope tightened around her limbs, her waist, her throat, it wasn’t panic that flooded her system. It was arousal.
The instant the bundle sprang into motion Clio opened her mouth to scream, however it was a long, sensual groan that passed her lips instead. The tight grasp of the rope was as erotic as a lover’s touch, sending pleasure burning through her body. The way it coiled around her breasts and squeezed her thighs made Clio feel as if she was being groped, and the little knot that rubbed against her clit through her underwear drew ecstatic gasps from her trembling lips.
Possessed by pleasure more intense than anything she had ever felt before, Clio didn’t even notice the changes overcoming her body.
Keen to feel attractive on her night out and partial to more vibrant shades of makeup, Clio’s eyes were decorated in shades of red and orange, while she had opted for a dusk-coloured lipstick to match. Now though, these were almost completely washed away, her lips wiped clean even as they plumped up and her eyeshadow reduced to a muted brown beneath fastidiously plucked brows. Likewise, her foundation faded to nothing and only the barest bloom of blush was left on her soft cheeks. Her hair too was simplified, set free of her braid to hang loose, the pale blonde swiftly eclipsed by inky black.
Together, both the limited makeup and simple hairstyle combined to give the first impression of the kind of woman she was about to become; after all, slaves didn’t deserve such luxuries.
Her dress quickly fell prey to the magic rope, torn to ribbons by their violent squirming until only a tattered strip hung around her waist. Her stiletto heels suffered a similar fate, tugged off and discarded amongst the remains of her dress, however her pale blue lingerie was spared, as was the thin black choker she wore.
That said, neither item went without their modifications once her body began to change. The sudden swelling of her breasts, for example, saw her bra expand accordingly to fit her huge, fake rack. Meanwhile, her panties were stretched even further as her ass and thighs ballooned in size, the sky-blue material vanishing between her fleshy cheeks and contrasting sharply with the golden tan which was rapidly engulfing her pale frame. Further up, the choker had grown into a thick black collar, complete with a glinting silver D-ring stitched into the front. Even the torn strap of dress still hanging from her waist like a forlorn belt was repurposed, unfurling into a little black maid’s apron hemmed in white.
To Clio, it felt as if she was being consumed by pleasure. Orgasmic bliss cascaded through her system as her slender frame became curvy and full, and the caress of the air on her bare skin sent shivers racing up her spine. Unable to hold herself upright, she slumped to her knees, the euphoria sending her eyes rolling.
And while her body was warped into something new, so too was her mind. The crushing embrace of the rope seemed to be constricting her persona in a similar way, unearthing all of Clio’s repressed desires of submission and servitude while simultaneously wiping away her nerves and inhibitions. Before long, her consciousness was a horny blend of both Clio’s fantasies and the power of the rope, a new woman with a shameless desire to serve: Claudia.
As her new name danced through her head, the twisting ropes moved with fresh purpose. Now, rather than simply wind around her body like tangled vines, they darted into a far more specific formation. First coiling around her midriff in a tight embrace, they then sprung out like striking serpents to grab her wrists and lash them into place behind her. It felt as though she had been crushed into a corset and cuffed all in one fell swoop, and she was left reeling.
Despite the orgasmic aftershocks rolling through her, gut-wrenching realisation struck Claudia so hard she felt her heart stutter: she was no longer alone in the room.
There was a soft chuckle once she fell still. A woman’s chuckle. ‘Did you enjoy that, little one? Something tells me you did. You were moaning like you were being fucked, after all.’
The woman’s voice was soft, sensual, seductive – the kind of voice that could have charmed even the most happily married man from his wife’s bed. Yet in Claudia it sparked an overwhelming surge of submission and though every impulse she had told her to turn and face the other woman, instead she remained perfectly still, suspecting that one wrong move would earn her a painful punishment.
Listening intently, the sounds that met her ears only confirmed her suspicions. The tell-tale squeak of rubber gave away the kinky nature of the woman’s attire; the shudder of the floor as she took a step closer implied heavy footwear. What was more, there was a persistent tapping which Claudia recognised immediately as the head of a riding crop gently hitting latex.
For a few tense seconds all was still and quiet, like the foreboding silence heralding an oncoming storm.
Then there was a rush of movement and suddenly Claudia’s bra had been pulled down and the other woman’s hands were on her fat tits, squeezing them with white-knuckled ferocity and drawing a stunned gasp from Claudia’s throat.
‘I asked you a question, you pathetic fucking whore,’ the woman hissed, her lips so close they brushed against Claudia’s ear. ‘Did you enjoy becoming a busty, needy little slave?’
A throbbing ache bloomed over Claudia’s chest as the woman pulled on her tits and pinched her nipples. But the pain was interwoven with the pleasure of submission and she nodded automatically. ‘Yes, oh yes, I loved every second. It felt so good and made me so horny I…’
The other woman cut her off without warning by seizing her cheeks and twisting her around to face her, allowing Claudia to see her properly for the first time. Finally able to admire the beautiful blonde dominatrix, her stomach flipped; being dominated was hot enough as it was, but knowing she was submitting to such a hot mistress only made her squirm all the more.
The dominatrix’s words were sharp and venomous. ‘Stop babbling, bitch. It was a simple question, and simple questions only need simple answers. The next time you start rambling you’ll feel my crop on your ass, understand?’
‘Yesh, mishtresh,’ Claudia slurred between the woman’s fingers.
‘Good girl,’ the dominatrix replied, releasing her face and resuming her rough groping of Claudia’s plump tits. ‘Mmmh, you know, when I realised the club had guided you to me, I was looking forward to breaking you in your old body. But I love this one even more. You’re such a dirty whore now, and you’re mine.’
The woman’s hot breath in her ear was making it difficult to focus – not to mention the warm latex rubbing against her bare skin and the bursts of pleasure like orgasmic fireworks flaring across her chest as the woman continued squeezing her nipples – but the implication of her words still registered.
‘You knew me before tonight?’
The dominatrix chuckled mischievously. ‘I certainly did. And you knew me. Oh, Clio, I’m offended. Don’t you recognise me? After all, if it wasn’t for you, I might still be married to that dirtbag I used to call my husband.’ As if to drive her point home, the woman squeezed Claudia’s tits especially hard with her final few words, crushing them together and clenching her bosom in a vice-like grip.
Shock tore through Claudia’s mind. ‘Anne?’ she said, fighting off a groan.
‘Not anymore,’ came the sultry reply. ‘I’m Aiden now. Although I’ll only let you call me that if you’ve been very, very good. And thanks to this club, I know everything about you, Claudia. All your cravings and desires, all your secrets. All your regrets. Your guilt.’ She paused, allowing her words to sink in. ‘Tell me, beautiful, would you really do anything to make things up to me?’
Claudia didn’t miss a beat. She nodded frantically, desperation and pleasure warring over her face.
Releasing Claudia’s tits, Aiden smiled. ‘In that case, slave, I suggest you get on the sofa.’
Hooking her fingers through the ring on Claudia’s collar, Aiden didn’t give her the chance to resist. Not that she would have done, of course. Still, she wanted to take the opportunity to assert her dominance over her new sub, thus she dragged Claudia over to the sofa and threw her face first into the cushions with a little more force than was strictly necessarily.
Overwhelmed by a sudden burst of arousal she stood over Claudia with her chest heaving as the bound woman struggled to roll over without falling to the floor. Her entire body was thrumming with energy, her thoughts swamped with sinful ideas.
God, it feels good to take control. All those years spent with him and I never realised how little I truly lived. But this… this is living. This dress hugging my body, a willing sub at my mercy… Her mind stalled briefly, her thoughts falling silent. Then she lifted one hand and admired her slender fingers, a cunning smile warping her lips. And endless ways to torment her.
Just as Claudia finally wriggled onto her back, Aiden darted forward and closed one hand around her throat. ‘I hope you’re ready for this, slut. Because I am not my husband. He might have tied you up or cuffed you every now and then, he might even have fucked you rough, but trust me when I say he has nothing on me. This body was born to dominate.’ As if to prove her point, she wrenched down Claudia’s panties, exposing her sparkling pussy. Slipping the tips of her fingers into her sex, Aiden savoured her slave’s shudder of arousal. ‘I’m only going to say this once: if you want out, then speak up now. This is your one and only chance to leave.’
In response, Claudia bit her lip, refusing to say anything but pushing her hips up needily, eager to take Aiden’s fingers deeper.
The newly-minted dominatrix smirked mischievously. ‘Have it your way.’
Still biting her lip, the orgasmic groan Claudia gave as Aiden plunged two fingers into her dripping cunt quickly devolved into a desperate whine. Aiden laughed as her brows knitted together, her eyes scrunched closed and her jaw trembling at the pleasure rushing through her busty body. Already Claudia looked like she was being pushed beyond her limits, her frantic writhing like the death throes of a wild animal.
And while her slave squirmed and gasped, Aiden simply laughed.
‘My, my, you are a wriggly little worm, aren’t you? You know, anyone would think you’ve never been fingered before. Then again, my husband never much was one for foreplay – aside from the oral type, that is – and I suspect your other lovers weren’t really into fingering either, were they?’
She spread Claudia’s legs as she continued, forcing her long digits deeper to the tune of her slave’s breathless moaning. ‘I suppose I can’t blame them. Faced with a pretty thing like you it’s no wonder they wanted to get straight down to business. But these things take time. They take patience. We need to work you up to the intense stuff, don’t we, little one?’ Eager to torment her slave, Aiden punctuated her next words by pausing and adding an additional finger in each gap. ‘One… finger… at a time.’
With her final words she pressed her thumb down on the swollen nub of Claudia’s clit and began rubbing it from side to side.
Eyeing her slave, a cruel edge crept into Aiden’s smile. With four fingers now stretching her pussy and her clit being ruthlessly tormented, it was starkly apparent that Claudia was on a precipice. Pushed beyond her limits, the pleasure had shut down her system so that now she lay limp as a ragdoll, her eyes rolling and her jaw slack, teetering on the very edge of erotic insanity. Aiden knew if she continued fingering Claudia in this way, her sub would gradually regress into a state of pleasure-drunk mindlessness, stupid and obedient.
It was a tempting prospect.
On the other hand, if she were to take things up a notch, to drive Claudia over the edge and into the abyss of orgasmic delirium, then she could really see what her slave was made of…
With her head lolling back and her eyelids fluttering, Claudia never saw Aiden produce the long black vibrator wand from beneath the sofa. Nor did she sense the removal of Aiden’s thumb from her clit, the intense pleasure of the dominatrix’s fingers masking the subtle movement. She simply continued to groan, oblivious to the mind-bending torment about to rock her world.
The scream she let out as Aiden simultaneously pressed the vibrator against her clit and plunged her entire fist into Claudia’s pussy was probably audible back in the main club. Every muscle in her body seized under the sudden pleasure, and for one long moment she surged up from the sofa so her brow was brushing up against Aiden’s, her face twisted with an ecstasy so intense it was almost torture.
Then she collapsed again, her scream devolving into desperate orgasmic cries. This time, however, she did not lay limp. Instead she resumed her frantic writhing, her back arching, her tits jiggling and her thighs twitching as her entire body was swamped with tormenting arousal.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Claudia gasped endlessly. It was the only word that would come to her as Aiden fisted her fast and deep, stretching her insides to their limits, all while the vibrator barraged her clit with further euphoria.
Between her cries, Claudia managed to briefly glance up at her goddess. Catching Aiden’s eye, she shuddered as the dominatrix gave an impish grin, licking her teeth like a hungry predator.
‘You know, I should thank you,’ Aiden said, wriggling her fingers to make Claudia shriek. ‘All those years I spent with Peter hollowed me out and I didn’t even realise it. Life with him was dull, but it was easy. Then when you got involved and our marriage broke down, rage filled up that void inside me. I was so, so angry. I hated him. I hated what being with him had done to me. And I wanted nothing more than to ruin him the way he ruined me.’
Aiden altered the angle of the wand and fresh ecstasy flared through Claudia’s hips. She scrunched up her eyes, fighting back a scream. ‘But he doesn’t even deserve that. His betrayal led me here, it gave me new purpose and new life, but he isn’t worthy of the woman I’ve become.’
When Aiden paused Claudia forced herself to open her eyes; the smile her mistress wore sent shivers down her spine. ‘He isn’t, but you are. After all, I have you to thank for my divorce, and you deserve to be punished for that. But without you I would have never wound up here in this body, and for that you deserve to have your wildest dreams fulfilled. Luckily, your wildest dreams are about punishment, aren’t they, kitten? So I should thank you. But something tells me it will be much more fun for both of us if I destroy you.’
Barely able to comprehend the tempest of arousal tearing through her body, Claudia struggled for breath. The pleasure burning through her was more than a sensation now; it felt as though it had taken on physical form. She could feel it filling her up, crawling up her throat and filling her lungs, churning in her stomach and throbbing through her tits and thighs. The intensity was so great that any orgasm that began to build was quickly shattered by it, and the more Aiden tortured her, the more oppressive the orgasmia within her became.
It was too much. She couldn’t take any more; she felt as though she was about to burst at the seams.
Aiden waited until Claudia was right on the edge of insanity before finally yielding. So overwhelmed, her busty slave had curled practically into the foetal position, her desperate thrashing reduced to the tremble of a woman about to lose her mind. She had even stopped screaming, no sound capable of conveying the unimaginable sensation roaring through her.
In one sudden motion, Aiden pulled back and Claudia immediately collapsed.
The dominatrix took a moment to admire her slave. Claudia’s chest was heaving and she shivered as though ice cold, although her flushed complexion and the slick sweat coating her skin proved otherwise.
If she was honest, part of Aiden wanted to keep going. The idea of breaking Claudia, of driving her so deep into a state of mental submission that it became irreversible was undeniably enticing. However, she suspected reducing the young woman to nothing more than a mindless drone would take out a little of the fun in dominating her. After all, drone’s wouldn’t beg for mercy.
Besides, there were other ways to corrupt a willing sub.
Slipping the straps of her dress from her shoulders, Aiden moaned softly as she slowly removed her stunning latex attire. The absence of its tight embrace seemed strangely alien, as though a vital part of herself had been removed, though at the same time the freedom of nakedness was just as orgasmic as strutting around in the glossy, intimidating dress. Once she’d pulled it beneath her hips, she allowed it to drop to the floor, grinning as the air brushed over her exposed tits and pussy.
Meanwhile, as though sensing what Aiden was about to do, the ropes binding Claudia had set to work on disrobing their prisoner too. Both her bra and the little maid’s pinny decorating her waist had been torn up and tossed aside, leaving her curvy body completely naked save for the collar still clutching her neck. In doing so, the ropes had also rearranged themselves so that now Claudia’s fat tits were tied up tight and her wrists were lashed firmly to her ankles, forcing her to draw up her knees over her stomach and leaving her rocking gently on her back panting with exhaustion.
But Aiden didn’t give her slave chance to recover.
Hooking her fingers into the ring on Claudia’s collar she dragged her slave into the centre of the sofa, positioning her with her hips jutting out over the edge and her head up against the sofa’s high back. Then, with a surprising elegance for one so kinky, she stepped up onto the sofa, braced herself on the wooden frame, straddled her slave’s face and sank down to press her glistening pussy lips against Claudia’s oral ones.
The effect on Claudia was immediate. Flooded with erotic energy and desperate for an outlet, she instantly began hungrily lapping at Aiden’s wet sex, straining up to feast on her mistress as deep as possible. Within seconds her face and chin were smeared in Aiden’s intoxicating pussy nectar, little droplets trickling down Claudia’s neck.
Aiden chuckled as she rolled her hips over Claudia’s face, toying with her clit while she did so. ‘Mmmh, that’s it, bitch, eat my sweet pussy like you’re starving. Fuck, your tongue is so good in my cunt. You’re such a needy little whore, aren’t you?’
Claudia did not even bother pulling away to reply, choosing instead to frantically nod her head as she continued to eat Aiden out.
Encouraged by her slave’s eagerness, a wave of cruelty washed through the busty blonde dominatrix. ‘That’s right, you’re desperate for me. You’re desperate to be used. To be degraded. Well if that’s what you want, then that’s what you’re going to get.’
With the snarl of a wild animal, Aiden suddenly grabbed Claudia by the collar and pulled her in hard. At the same time, she sank lower to grind her pussy forcefully against her slave’s face, her free hand slapping Claudia’s tits sharply.
‘Is this what you want, bitch?’ she cried. ‘Is this what you want? Then take it! Suffocate on my cunt! You’re just a filthy fucking skank who needs to be fucked to within an inch of her life, aren’t you?’ Aiden spat on Claudia’s stomach. ‘You’re not a person. You’re a fucking sex toy! You’re my dirty, needy sex doll and even after I’ve reduced you to a pathetic, babbling mess, all you’ll ever do is beg for more.’ Lunging down, she grabbed one of Claudia’s tits roughly, venom stealing into her voice as her slave shrieked into her cunt. ‘Remember, you chose this. You chose to be my worthless slave, and now you’ll never know anything but pain, pleasure and submission. Oh, I’m going to destroy you, slut. Just wait till you’re screaming around a gag as I edge you over and over and over…’
Aiden trailed off. For a second her expression went blank, visibly processing the idea which had just occurred to her. Then her lips twisted into a cunning smile and she lifted her hips.
No longer suffocating, Claudia gasped for air and blinked against the sudden light. Before she could come to her senses though, Aiden’s long fingers were clutching her glistening cheeks, her chilling sneer filling her view.
‘No, not a gag. I have something far better for you to scream around.’
Drunk on submission, Claudia didn’t really feel Aiden throwing her onto her knees. She simply found herself there, kneeling on the larger of two red satin cushions as the ropes binding her once again came to life. In fact, mentally adrift as she was, she barely registered the new position they assumed, instead more interested in the cushion beneath her; it hadn’t been there before, she knew that much, and she found herself vacantly wondering if Aiden had set it down for her, or if the magic of the club had summoned it to provide her a little comfort while she served her mistress.
It was only when Aiden dropped down to kneel in front of her with a thick silver strap-on bobbing at her waist that Claudia realised how truly helpless she now was. Though the ropes binding her wrists and ankles had not moved, those squeezing her tits had descended to tether her thighs to her stomach, preventing her from pulling away as Aiden tangled her fingers in her long hair.
A sudden shock of uncertainty crashed through her; the last cock she’d sucked was Peter’s, and even in her transformed body the guilt that came with the memory caused her arousal to falter.
However, no sooner had she opened her mouth to protest than Aiden’s silicone shaft was burrowing down her throat, melting away all Claudia’s uncertainty in a heartbeat.
Claudia groaned as she felt her neck stretch to accommodate the thick toy. No longer nervous, the craving for more instantly overwhelmed her and she desperately strained to take Aiden’s cock deeper just as she had strained to taste more of her pussy, rocking on the cushion in an effort to swallow every last inch.
The laugh Aiden gave as she began to cough and splutter flipped Claudia’s stomach. ‘Look at you, you little whore. You’re so fucking greedy. You’re going to make such a good cocksleeve, you know. You were born for this.’ Tightening her hold on Claudia’s hair, she began thrusting with more force. ‘Do you like me fucking your face, bitch? Huh? Do you like choking on my fat cock? Mmmh, you do, don’t you? Then take it all the way down that slutty throat.’
Aiden gave a particularly forceful thrust at that, one that left Claudia coughing as her eyes streamed. Thick strings of frothy saliva dribbled down onto the second cushion, which she realised was there purely to soak up her mess. Clearly in an unforgiving mood, the moment Claudia caught her breath Aiden seized her again and dragged her back down onto her gleaming cock.
Despite the rough humiliation she was being subjected to, however, inside Claudia was at peace. Possessed by a sense of blissful orgasmia, she allowed herself to savour the pleasures of submission.
This was where she belonged. It was where she had always belonged. All the failed relationships and reckless hook-ups of her old life, all the pursuits of a lover who could truly command her in mind, body and soul, they had all been leading to this: this night, in this room, with this woman.
And for all that Aiden was using her with a violence that bordered upon barbarism, deep down Claudia knew her mistress would never hurt her. Not in the way Peter had at least. They had both suffered too much at the hands of the very same man to reach this point for either of them to ever betray the other. Now not only could they forge a new life together away from the man who had broken them both but, thanks to the blessing of the club, they could do so while fulfilling one another’s wildest fantasies in the process.
A soft giggle escape Claudia’s lips. She finally had the chance to lead the life of unquestioning submission to a lover who knew that for a woman like Claudia, fucking her like you hated her was the most loving thing you could possibly do.
And it seemed Aiden had come to the same conclusion.
If Claudia was drunk on submission, Aiden was high on the thrills of domination. With a slave at her mercy, intoxicating power roaring through her system and the sinful atmosphere of the club engulfing her consciousness, it was only a matter of time before the urge to fuck a different hole consumed her.
When it finally did, she acted on it with ruthless force. Abruptly wrenching Claudia away from her cock by her hair, Aiden didn’t even bother taunting her over how slutty she looked with her makeup smeared and spit dangling from her lips. Instead, she simply forced her slave down face-first into the cushion damp with her own drool, the ropes ensuring Claudia’s ass stuck up for her mistress to use. Unsurprisingly, Claudia made no protest. In fact, a contented smile spread over her flushed features as Aiden strutted around behind her.
Aiden groaned as she slipped her cock into Claudia’s vulnerable pussy. She may not have been able to feel the physical sensation of her slave’s tight cunt parting around her dick, but as far as she was concerned the sight of Claudia tied up and under her control was just as hot, if not hotter.
We were made for each other. The thought stole through Aiden’s mind without warning as she began to thrust, and for a moment her intimidating dominatrix persona faltered. In that moment, sensual love interwove itself with the carnal lust she felt for Claudia. She smiled, realising just how long it had been since she actually loved someone.
Then a more deviant thought crossed her mind. And we were made to fuck, too.
With that she immediately began pounding her slave.
Claudia didn’t even groan. Driven so deep into subspace she couldn’t have strung two words together if Aiden had ordered her too, the happy smile melted from her face to leave her expression blank. And with her mental capacity all but shut down, she became no more than a living sex doll for Aiden to use, her face pressed into the pillow, her ass rippling with each powerful thrust and every inch of her body saturated in orgasmic pleasure.
Overhead, Aiden laughed. ‘You know I think I love you even more like this than when you’re squirming all over the place. You’re so cute when you’re cockdumb. Mmmh, I’m going to stretch this pussy all night long, slut. I hope you’re ready to be used until you can’t take any more.’
Increasing her pace, Aiden spanked Claudia’s ass hard, relishing the breathless whimper her slave gave. Yet even as she enjoyed the pleasure of domination sweeping through her, part of Aiden’s mind was elsewhere contemplating all the devilish things she was going to do to her new pet before the night was through.
With the magic of the club supercharging her arousal, Aiden lost herself to her desires. Fucking and degrading and tormenting her slave, she soon lost all sense of time, and as a result she wasn’t entirely sure how long it was before the movement of something tall and black in her peripheral vision caught her attention, only that by then Claudia was suspended from the ceiling as Aiden pummelled her dripping pussy.
Turning to face the door, Aiden’s breath caught in her throat.
The woman framed within it was an Amazonian beauty, every line of her figure flawlessly divine. Dressed in a stunning black latex catsuit which clung tight to her mesmerising curves, she stood on towering ink-black platform heels some five inches high which only added to her already intimidating height. Her huge breasts were pushed up into deep cleavage by the suit, while even in the tight embrace of the latex her ass was immense, as were the thick thighs beneath. The exposed flesh of her arms was supple and tanned and her long blonde hair contrasted against her dark attire. However, despite her hypnotic figure, Aiden simply could not tear her gaze from the woman’s face: soft lines, rosy lips and eyes framed in smoky shadow.
Captivating eyes. Piercing eyes.
Eyes Aiden recognised in a heartbeat.
Because everybody knew who Phoenix was. She owned Club Fantasy after all, and when you owned a club with a reputation that spanned the globe – especially a reputation as deliciously sordid as the one Club Fantasy enjoyed – there were few places you could go where you wouldn’t be recognised.
Still, as Phoenix eyed her, a small smile playing over her perfect lips, Aiden sensed something more in the beautiful latex-clad woman: a kindred spirit. She wasn’t sure what exactly, but something in Phoenix’s presence told Aiden that she too had felt the orgasmic pleasure of transformation, had experienced the kind of magic which had gripped Anne and Clio earlier that night and twisted them into something new.
And the gleam in Phoenix’s eye assured her beyond all doubt that the magic belonged to Phoenix herself. The club might have transformed them, but she was the one responsible for what it had done.
Briefly, Aiden thought their visitor was about to continue along the corridor without saying a word, but the next moment she was stepping into the room, a long-stemmed champagne glass in hand which Aiden could swear hadn’t been there the second before.
‘Good evening, ladies,’ she purred. ‘Do you mind if I take a seat? I always like to see what deliciously deviant things my club does when it takes a shine to my guests.’
Her words dispelled Aiden’s amazement and her fiendish streak instantly returned. A wicked grin twisted her features as she continued to shamelessly fuck Claudia’s tight hole. ‘Not at all. Actually, you got here just in time. I’m about to make this bitch scream.’
Phoenix smiled, her eyes lighting up with mischief. ‘I look forward to it.’
Reaching down to seize Claudia’s hair, Aiden twisted her around to face the latex seductress as Phoenix sank onto the sofa. ‘Look, slut, we have company. You’d better put on a good show for Miss Phoenix here, or it won’t just be me flogging your ass so hard you won’t sit for a week.’
Reclining on the sofa, Phoenix took a sip of her champagne, the sight sending a tingle racing down Aiden’s spine. Fuck, somehow she makes even that look sexy.
‘You know, I’m sure you’re both going to fit right in here,’ Phoenix said as Aiden began roughly slamming into her slave with fresh vigour. ‘Welcome to the family, ladies.’
Just as Aiden had promised, it was not long before Claudia began to scream. However, once the sharp echo of a zipper being undone rang out through the halls, those cries were soon reduced to muffled groans, while Phoenix’s own breathless gasps rose to join the sinful chorus…
Thanks for reading!
So, here it is, the first Club Fantasy story. Honestly, I am incredibly pleased with everything about this: the concept, the execution, the supporting galleries, the models, the cameo. Everything. I have absolutely no doubt that this is how my Fantasy Universe stories will continue moving forward since this gives me the best of both worlds: the chance to showcase the work of my favourite models without the immense stress of writing a huge multi-part storyline.
I’m super excited about where this can lead. I already have plans for future Club Fantasy stories, not to mention crossovers involving characters from Lake Fantasy and Fantasy Resort, as well as shorter stories set within this same universe. This world is one I don’t think I’ll ever tire of and I can’t wait to explore it in new and interesting ways.
I am also incredibly pleased I’ve finally been able to showcase the work of another of my all-time favourite models in this storyline: Aiden Starr.
I have been a fan of Starr’s work for years now and I think one of the main reasons for that is she seems to inhabit a niche all of her own. Lots of mainstream models produce kinky content from time to time, but Starr takes that to a whole new level. A huge fan of BDSM, bondage and just general depravity, she is a regular face on The Upper Floor, and is both as willing to give as she it receive – her pegging scenes are a particular favourite of mine. Her body type is different to pretty much any other model I know of, her enthusiasm for hedonism is infectious, and I never tire of her work. I think she is immensely underappreciated and I’ve been wanting to include her in a Fantasy Universe story ever since I first started writing Lake Fantasy, so when I decided to write Club Fantasy I knew I couldn’t write any other model into the first story.
Her co-star in this story is Claudia Valentine. Valentine is a model I am not familiar with, so there’s not much I can really say about her. That said, like Starr she looks like a very underappreciated model. I enjoyed her work immensely as portrayed through the galleries I used to support this scene and though I don’t have any solid plans to include her in any future stories I would be more than happy to do so should a suitable idea arise. After all, she is part of the Fantasy Universe now, so there’s nothing preventing her from popping up in future instalments. In the meantime though, do be sure to check her out if you enjoyed her work in this piece.
Finally, Phoenix Marie made a brief cameo at the end of this piece. I knew I wanted to have a familiar face pop up at some point, and since Club Fantasy belongs to Phoenix herself it felt very organic to have her show up at the end. I won’t say anything about her here other than that you should definitely take some time to enjoy her work when you can, and if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts on her, be sure to check out Fantasy Resort – Chapter 14: Culmination, in which she portrays the main character.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
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Intro image: https://unsplash.com/photos/yLUvnCFI500
Image galleries: https://www.pornpics.com/galleries/whipped-ass-aiden-starr-claudia-valentine-90249091/