Milkshake

The music throbbed, the strobes flashed, and he watched her. He loved to watch her dance, the primal way she threw herself into the music. She danced so uninhibitedly, so sexually, that she often made him hard just thinking about it. The lights flashed and flared across the curves of her body, coloured beams playing across her waist where it flared into her generous hips, and the denim stretched tight across her backside. He watched her flirt with the boys dancing around her, her mouth curved in a seductive smile, her hips sliding to the music. Her breasts moved freely under her backless black top, and gold glinted at her wrists and neck. The lyrics to the song ran through his mind, and he smiled wryly.

"You know you want it, the thing that makes me, what the guys go crazy for...they lose their minds, the way I whine. I think it's time."

He flared with pride and desire, seeing how the men wanted her. They could never have her. She was entirely his. She writhed to the music, knowing he was watching, sliding her hands down her body, knowing his eyes burned over her. She spun, flicking her gaze in his direction, and gave a little smile before going back to dancing, tempting him.

The men around her were entranced – her tawny skin and golden hair made her seem like some exotic confection that would melt in their mouths. Her uninhibited air drew people like flies, and her compact curved figure made her seem somewhat innocent. He watched as one of the men reached for her, and smiled and waited to see what she would do. She wasn't averse to being touched while dancing, but he knew that generally she wouldn't let anyone touch her if he was watching.

Unless she was in a cheeky mood, he observed as she ground her backside against the groin of the man that reached for her. His anger and desire flared, and he knew he would have her begging tonight. He considered their surroundings and thought that perhaps he'd have her right here. He grinned darkly as his imagination filled out the scenario, and she glanced at him to see if he'd been watching, just in time to catch the grin. He could tell the instant she realized what was on his mind – her legs nearly buckled beneath her, and she shook her head, trying to clear it. Once recovered she cocked her head amusedly and strutted arrogantly across the dance-floor away from him, moving to the beat of the next song. She was provoking him, and she knew it.

He watched the muscles of her back move as she pressed herself against a man on the dance floor, rubbing her breasts against him, and his eyes narrowed. She was really asking for it. She glanced over her shoulder at him, licking her lips and watching for a reaction. She gave him a cheeky grin, but visibly quailed when she saw his frown.

The movement of her hips slowed as she waited to see what he would do, still watching him over her shoulder as she danced. He walked over to a booth, sat down on the padded bench, crooked his finger and pointed to the ground at his feet.

She shivered, suddenly aware of just how much she had provoked him, heat racing through her veins as her nerves remembered. She hurried over to him, abandoning her dance partners, all her former arrogance forgotten. She sat on the floor at his feet, not quite kneeling, but still sitting unusually enough to draw curious glances from people around her.

He rested his hand on her head, feeling her trembling, and his blood flamed. He knew that only part of that trembling was fear – she had known exactly what she was doing on the dance-floor. He touched her hair gently, twining its caramel strands around his fingers, stroking her ear and neck. She leaned into his touch, her liquid eyes watching him intently. His thumb stroked down across her cheek, rubbing her bottom lip. She looked out from under her eyelashes at him, demure now, and gently parted her lips, her tongue flickering over the tip of his thumb. She looked at him for confirmation and he nodded, and she sucked his thumb further into his mouth.

Her face flamed with her arousal and her embarrassment – she knew that people were still watching her, but didn't dare disobey. She thought she had already provoked him to punishment past the point she would enjoy, and she was afraid. Not really afraid, for he'd never truly damage her, but if he chose he could torture her for hours, with pain and pleasure...never giving her fulfillment. He'd do it for days if he wanted, if she didn't beg prettily enough to satisfy him.

When he was satisfied with her treatment of his thumb, he pulled it out of her mouth and ran it down her chin, her saliva glistening on her skin. He stroked her neck, and slid his hand back into her hair, where his grip abruptly tightened, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear as he pulled her head roughly back.

"Did my little slut like dancing like that?" He demanded, his grip tightening. He heard her whimper and his teeth caught at her earlobe threateningly. "Answer." He said coldly, and she let out an alarmed squeak.

"Yes...Master..." she breathed, fearful and humiliated. He growled.

"Ah, so my kitten likes to show everyone how much of a slut she is, dancing with those boys, fooling them into thinking they'll get somewhere. When really they'd only get some if I ordered it. And I could, if I wished. You know it." He said, and heard her sharp intake of breath.

"I know it Master...forgive me...I was just... I don't know. Just..." He silenced her by biting down sharply on her ear.

"I don't care why. You will be punished. You know that. You seem to like showing everyone how much of a slut you are, perhaps you would enjoy doing it a little more."

With that he pulled her up roughly, her back to him, her legs folded to either side of his hips so she was perched somewhat awkwardly in his lap. She tried to turn her head to look at him but he shoved it roughly back.

"No, look at the room. Your boys on the dance floor if you like. See what people see in you."

He growled into her ear, pushing her hair over one shoulder to expose her neck to his teeth. His lips settled on her skin, gently at first, moving the tiny hairs on her neck, making her shiver. He slid his mouth up her throat, to nibble at the shell of her ear. He held her arms behind her roughly, so she could not cover herself or hide her face. The position of her arms made the black silk of her top stretch tightly over her breasts so everyone in the room saw when her nipples hardened. He heard her low gasp and knew immediately what had happened, moving his hand around to play with her erect tips. He looked out briefly, taking in the stunned and hungry faces of the people who watched. They were shocked at the casual way he was handling her, and the eager way she responded to it. Even in her humiliation and embarrassment she moved under his hands, writhing, pressing against him, and they could see it. They could see the desire on her face as she turned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes so she didn't have to see.

"No," he said, pushing her chin away. "Open your eyes. Watch the watchers. I will know if you don't." He knew she hated to be aware of her audience, but knew that she was doing as he ordered, her glance flickering across the room to the people who looked at her. His hand slid down her belly towards the band of her jeans, and she gasped.

"Don't close your eyes." He growled, and she shuddered and obeyed.

She stared around the room, seeing the mingled shock and arousal on people's faces. Women watched her with disgust, while the men on the dance-floor watched her and her Master with a mix of desire and envy. His hands slid inexorably down the smoothness of her belly, slipping inside her jeans – she exhaled slowly, incredibly aroused and humiliated. Her chest heaved with her breathing, and she nearly yelped when his hand slid down over her bare pussy, and she pressed against him uncontrollably, desperately trying to ignore the people around her, but unable to.

"Don't close them." He said sharply, just as she started to do so. Her eyelids fluttered open and she gasped as his fingers found her clit and started working at her. She moaned piteously, trying to communicate her embarrassment to him, but he ignored it.

He glanced at the bouncer, and smiled – the man was staring entranced – he'd not be stopping this particular show. His fingers slid deep inside her, and he rubbed at her clit with his palm, his other hand sliding over her body to pinch roughly at her nipples. He lifted her shirt up to expose her breasts, and she didn't even whimper in complaint. He knew he had her, so lost in lust that she'd do anything. Fortunately for her, however, his other plans didn't include an audience. He worked at her pussy steadily, his fingers inside her rhythmically pressing on her sweet spot, feeling her melt each time he did. She started to pant and he knew her orgasm was close. As he worked her she started to cry out, and each sharp little 'oh!' was more strident than the last. He felt the beginnings of the muscle spasms that indicated her orgasm, and immediately slipped his hands out of her pants. He stopped touching her totally. She groaned, her efforts at pleasure thwarted, her hips moving rhythmically as she tried to recapture the sensation enough to come. Frustrated she pressed against him, but he only offered her his fingers, slick with her juices. He rubbed them against her lips, hearing a gasp from the watchers as she licked at them delicately, cleaning him.

"Good girl, kitten. You love being a slut for me, don't you?" He asked her.

"Yes Master," she whispered submissively, lowering her head as she finished cleaning him. She tried to move more comfortably in his lap, unable to settle, her body zinging with the caught climax, and she whimpered frustratedly and nuzzled against his shoulder pleadingly. He caught her chin and tilted her head up to kiss her, tasting her juices and looking into her melting eyes.

"Don't worry kitten. I'm not finished with you yet." He said, and her eyes flared with desire.

****

He pulled her into his lap more comfortably, facing him.

"Why don't you go dance some more?" He suggested with a glint in his eye.

She turned her head to regard her audience on the dance floor and blushed, burying her face in his shoulder. He chuckled and stroked her.

"Didn't think so." He said, and his hand wandered down to play with the back of her neck. She nuzzled against him and he smiled, pleased by her affection.