The Best Erotic Stories.

Querella's Smile
by Flagg

Querella was an exotic dancer. She had started as a ballerina as a girl and even then she had titillated the souls of many men with her pert breasts, sensual figure and most of all her naughty smile. It wasn't long before Querella realised the power and influence she had over men. They would stand watching her with hungry stares but when she spoke to them they would be reduced to shy nervous wrecks with only their cocks standing proud within their pants.

Querella enjoyed the reactions she provoked and soon progressed to sensual dancing in dark private clubs where only men were allowed. Her performance invariably started with a ballet piece, an attribute that made her stand out from other talents and provided her with quite a reputation. As she danced to the orchestra, men would stare longingly at her grace, her beauty and her sexuality. The innocence of her introduction drove her spectators wild as they imagined the angelique apparition before them indulging in dark sexual games.

Throughout her dance she would use her cheeky sensual smile as the only clue to what was coming up next. As she gracefully stepped from side to side she would direct that smile at every man in the room. Each in turn were given the incredible luxury of being consumed by her lustful expression and all those not already aroused were brought to sexual attention.

As she ended her first set the lights would dim to almost darkness but Querella continued to illuminate the room with her beauty. As she approached the audience they could see that she was now wearing only a garter and tights, her breasts fully revealed for all to see, standing perked to attention. She stepped off the stage and slowly walked over to a gentleman sitting alone in the corner. Gently she would kneel in front of him surreptitiously sliding his swollen cock out of his pants and placing it delicately in her mouth. Then she would drive the man to ecstasy with her lips, hands and mouth until finally he would cum all over her. She would then move to another customer with the same gift until every man had been satisfied. As she walked from man to man, her smile never left her - a smile so challenging and perverted with the sperm of many men smeared across it that again the men would be driven wild with lust, pleading her to visit them again.

For many years, Querella performed in the club, satisfying hundreds of men each month and never tiring. Her reputation grew to such extents that the management of the club were obliged to make membership increasingly expensive. After a while, the club had gained the greatest reputation in the country and business men, tycoons, even royalty attended her shows.

Despite her profession, there was one thing that Querella never gave away, In all her years of performing she had never lost her virginity. It was a matter of principal to her to never loose it and no matter how hard men tried she would always resist. She enjoyed her performance as it put her in control. That control was something that she vowed never to loose to a man.

On many an occasion, the richest of her customers would call on her after the show asking for her hand in marriage with promises of riches and a life of luxury, but Querella, with her smile on her lips, would kindly thank them for the offer but decline. Some of the men would turn violent with desire demanding that she should fulfill their savage needs but with much arguing and the help of a burly security guard she would fend them off.

One night as Querella was starting her routine and eyeing every man in the room, her gaze fell on a man sitting quietly on his own. The man wore expensive clothes and had dark skin. He looked almost like a shadow but for his gleaming eyes. Such intensity and colour she had never seen and in her heart she felt almost numb with his beauty. As she carried on dancing she could not rid herself of his image, feeling those penetrative eyes on her body. Never before had she been affected in this way and with frustration she realised that this man had taken some of her control away. As she started her oral debaucherie she sensed a movement in the corner and noticed the man stand and walk towards the exit. Hurridly, she emptied the cock in her mouth and rushed to the departing stranger. As she approached, the stranger turned and looked at her. With a solemn expression he said:

'Clean yourself. I will be pleasured in private after the show.'

Then without a pause, he turned and left, leaving the door swinging in his wake. After the show, Querella sat alone in her dressing room. Without a thought she had carefully cleaned the remaining sperm from her face and hair and had thoroughly cleansed herself with oils and creams. Now, she sat waiting for her stranger to arrive. Amidst her thoughts, Querella realised that this was against the rules, that allowing a stranger in to her room and offering herself to him was against all her principles. But somehow she felt allured by the power in his eyes, the power that she herself had exercised over so many others.

There was no knock. The door simply swung open and in walked the stranger. He walked over to her and instantly drew his hand to her breast kneading it with subtle force, squeezing the very life from her nipples. Querella winced but did not resist, powerless to his strength. The man's eyes drove a hole through her body and her soul, daring her to protest as he ripped the beautiful garments from her body, flinging them across the room. His hands were all over her leaving no area untouched. His fingers glided down her stomach to her sex penetrating it violently and without remorse. Querella gasped as her hymen broke. She fainted with the image of the man pounding his fingers into her, slowly dissipating in to a white clean light.

Through the light she could see her power, her control over life and men run free. Through the bloody broken hymen, oozed beings dancing like ballerinas, dancing far into the distance until they were no more. In their place were the eyes of many men, men she had seduced and ridiculed, resisted and frustrated. But now there was not fear in their expressions but anger. The eyes and souls of all these men were advancing on her and penetrating her, taking away all she had fought for. As she became overwhelmed with their power and pain she woke.

At first the world was spinning but finally she managed to focus on the object lying by her head. It was a knife, salified by dark dead blood. Confused, she tried to prop herself but was stopped by a dull aching pain on her face. As she fell back onto her stomach, she again lost consciousness.

Querella never danced again and the men stopped visiting her with promises of happiness and riches. She became poor and destitute and lived poorly in a small room on the east side of town. The local children would point, stare and shout when she walked by with shouts of 'Freak!' and 'Ugly!'. But on she walked, driven to emotional numbness, the old woman with the scarred lips once known as Querella, the queen of ballerinas.


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