Abandoned Pussy at the Goth-Club Ch. 02

HOW I ABANDONED MY PUSSY AT THE GOTH-CLUB part 02

Luna, a goth girl finds an old note in a second-hand book about pagan witchcraft. It promises the magic separation of individual body parts and in her mind, the idea emerges, that this might be the ultimate solution to get close to her adored idol Damien, the attractive lead singer of the band Astral Cadaver. Other girls might be able to give him roses, stuffed animals, or even panties, but only she can gift him her most precious and intimate sacrifice, her living and sensing vagina.

But fate has a different path in mind and Luna has to make a difficult decision.

LUNA

I arrive at the Crimson Spiral, where the concert is supposed to happen. I can't believe I am really doing it. It feels so surreal, but hot! I hope the envelope will be able to deal with my juice. All the way to the club I couldn't think of anything else but about what would happen.

The bouncer checks my ID, Nora Young, but already 21 years old, 5' 5.

In the photo, I'm still blonde, but now my long straight hair is red as cherries.

He nods silently, and while I go in, I put my ID back into my purse. I can feel the motion of my hand through the envelope, which gives me a rush of adrenaline. It's crazy to be reminded that my vagina is not between my legs anymore.

After showing my ticket, I stop at the checkroom and reach my jacket over the counter together with a dollar.

The goth-girl working there gives me a small orange chip with the number 274. "The purse too?"

"No, I need that." I decline and let the chip disappear in the said purse, then I continue. A muffled bass is penetrating the disco fog, purple and blue twilight and my eyes need a moment to get adjusted. There are already more people here than I expected, Astral Cadaver had gotten reasonably popular within the scene during the last few months. Naturally, with a lead singer like Damien.

People are talking to each other. The way a Metalhead with long brown hair and a Venom shirt is staring at me with his open mouth makes it hard for me not to chuckle, and another guy with glasses and a goatee is checking me out as well. It seems my outfit doesn't miss its enchanting purpose. Damien will notice me as well, I can't wait to hand him my precious vagina.

As there is no trace of the band yet, I head towards the bar. "One Mojito please."

"Sure." The bartender nods and starts preparing it.

While I fish my wallet out of my purse, a stupid jerk stumbles against my back. I give him a nasty look, but he doesn't even turn around, while he makes his way to the stage. Such a Dickhead!

I shake my head and get approached by the guy with the weird goatee. "Some people are just rude."

"Yeah, he could have at least said sorry." I roll my eyes.

He gets his wallet out as well. "Oh no, it's okay. I'll pay for your drink. Just to keep the karma in balance."

"Oh, thank you, that's so nice of you." I smile.

"I am Gregor, but you can call me Greg." He fumbles nervously with his wallet and adjusts his glasses. Greg is a little shorter than me, maybe in his late 30s with short brown hair, and he wears a shiny vest over a dark blue shirt. As the bartender gives me my drink, Greg pays for it and orders a Screwdriver.

I sip on my Mojito. "I'm Luna."

"Cool name, I like it." He receives his cocktail.

I let my gaze wander through the room. More people are coming in from the entrance now, and the drums are getting tested on the stage.

Gregor is awkwardly trying to hit on me. "So, do you come here often?"

"Sometimes", I shrug. I am not really interested in him. Besides, If he wants to get into my pants, there is nothing for him to gain anymore, apart from disappointment. I am here for Damien only.

Gregor frowns and forces himself to smile. "Yeah. I don't have so much time anymore to party, compared to the old days. You know, business and friends. Where do you usually go?"

"Sorry Greg, thank you for the drink, that was nice of you, but I am not really interested." I turn him down.

He looks angrily at me. "But I am good enough to pay for your Mojito or what?"

"I thought you did that for good karma?" I blink at him in surprise.

He walks away: "Karma is a bitch!"

I shrug and head towards the stage. A guy with a red base-cap and a black hoodie winks and smirks at me. I don't like his style, pretend to not have noticed him and sip on my cocktail. Idiots like these are wasting my time. I squeeze past a few people and get a weird sensation on my vagina as I compress my bag. It is so surreal, to know it's in there.

Two girls in black robes walk onto the stage, the light switches to a dramatic red and clouds are steaming out of the fog-machines. "Good evening Cleveland!"

Only moderate applause. It must be the supporting act.

The girl at the microphone hangs a guitar around her neck, while the other one pushes a few buttons on a synthesizer. "We are Violet Enigma from New York!"

Then their ethereal music drones out of the boxes, and her distorted singing floats like a far away wailing. It's not bad actually, maybe I should keep them in mind.

AIDEN

As I order a beer at the bar, I notice a brown envelope beside my feet. Strange, a letter?

I pick it up and pat the girl next to me on her shoulder. "Is this yours?"

She just shakes her head without an answer and turns back to the conversation with her friend.

Okay, obviously not hers. "Damien" is written onto it in girly letters, and the dot of the I is even shaped like a heart. Is it a love letter? Something soft and bulging is inside, definitely not just a letter. Drugs, maybe? That could be it. For now, I put it into the side pocket of my cargo pants, at least they come in handy now.

"It seems they are starting, are you coming?" Michael pats me on the shoulder.

I close the buttons of my pocket and grab my beer. "Sure"

It's not Astral Cadaver yet, just two girls from New York. The blonde one at the keyboard is quite cute. Vivienne is dragging Michael through the crowd until we are in the first row. They are only playing five songs and only receive mediocre applause. It wasn't a blast, but they clearly deserved better. The crowd disperses a bit. I empty my beer and turn around to get an overview. Maybe I should get another one?

The hot red-haired girl uses her chance to get to the front row and decides that her preferred spot is directly to my right. Okay, maybe no more beer for the moment, she is stunning!

Little bat-earrings dangling from her ears and her massive tits are nearly falling out of her corset. She probably stuffed and pushed everything she had up to the maximum to get this killer cleavage. But who knows, they might be real?

Although I would love to start a conversation with her, I have no idea how. It should be something clever I guess, not another "Hi, you have beautiful eyes" or "do you come here more often", or probably even more ridiculous "hey, nice tits". She must hear that a lot and I don't want to be just another fool annoying her.

But what could I say instead? Maybe complimenting a unique detail of her wardrobe, she clearly put effort into it and it wouldn't be so generic. That skimpy purple leopard skirt? I decide on something safe. "Hey, cute earrings. They suit you well."

"Thanks." She shortly smiles at me, but shifts her attention back to the stage. As if rearranging musical instruments would be anyhow interesting.

"Where did you get them?" I continue somehow, just to keep the conversation rolling.

She shrugs. "On the internet. At Etsy."

"Ah, cool!" I nod and stupidly sip on my already empty beer. Not cool! What an epic fail, as if I would be really interested where she got them. What do I want to do? Buy similar ones? I don't even have the fitting holes for that.

I stay silent for the next few minutes. Awkward, but clearly less awkward than keeping this sort of artificial conversation alive. The light fades, fog intensifies and the desired girl at my side shrieks and jumps up and down, full of excitement. I can't help but stare at her massive rocking boobs. Looks like they are real!

I use my chance, the second she holds still to adjust her corset and revive the conversation. "Wow, Astral Cadaver must be your favorite Band. Ghostland is a masterpiece."

Her adorable face nearly melts as I mention it. "Oh, I love that song! My favorite one is When the Sun Rises and I'm probably their biggest fan. I will also go to their gig in Pittsburgh tomorrow."

Bingo! Finally a topic she is enthusiastic to talk about. So I continue. "They are amazing, I have seen them a few times already. The show in Nashville was great, in my opinion, their best so far."

"Really? I was there too! Yes, it was such a good concert and... oh, they're starting! Damien! Damien"

I stare at her in disbelief. Okay, that girl is a basket-case, no chance. She has the attention span of a squirrel and descends into the zone. Her glossy eyes are all over the lead singer, who greets the cheering fans. "Hello Cleveland!"

"Damien!", my big titted redhead shouts his name, staring with crazy eyes. "Damien!"

Oh right! That's him! The letter in my pocket is addressed to him. It must belong to one of those groupies, maybe it's even coming from her.

Damien smiles at her, but quickly turns his eyes back to the people and shouts: "Are you ready?"

"Yeah" the mob roars.

He holds his hand at his ear to amplify his hearing, then shouts even louder. "Are you ready?!"

"Yeaaah!"

"We are Astral Cadaver, and this is Forsaken Room" Damien strikes the first chord on his guitar, and the band starts playing. I try to overcome my disappointment about my failed flirt attempts and shift my focus to the show, but I can't really get into the mood.

When the first song fades, I turn to Michael. "I will be back in just a second!"

"Hurry up, buddy!" he hits my shoulder, while I push myself through the crowd and head to the restrooms. Nobody is back here, they are all at the stage, cheering to the tunes of the next song.

I open my pants and relieve myself in one of the urinals. The wall is plastered with a mixture of musical stickers from bands and festivals and political ones, against cops and Nazis.

"Maybe it's really her letter?" I mumble to myself. Even if this might be the case, and even if I find a phone number or something, my chances with her are probably rather neglectable. She is just not interested. Nevertheless, I am curious about this secret fan-mail to Damien.

There is a chance to find nude pictures at least. If these are even by the stacked redhead, it would be some sort of spicy consolation award. Although I have no idea why it's bulky and soft. But it's no problem to find out about that. If it's not drugs, it might be a self-made stuffed animal? No more speculations, time to find out!

As I close my zipper, I go into one of the stalls and take the envelope out of my pocket.

It does have a weird, somewhat familiar smell, but I can't really make out what it is. Carefully I open it on one side with my keys. A few gooey drops are dripping out. What the fuck!?

I peek inside, what is that? A dead animal? A marinated piece of meat? It is disgusting and has a particular odor, but as curious as I am, I let it splash onto the beige tiles in front of the toilet. "What the hell?! A pocket pussy?!"

It looks quite authentic, even pre-lubed and wet. Just why? "Is this a prank?"

I poke it curiously with the tip of my boot. It's soft. Slowly I get into a crouch to closely inspect it. It looks surprisingly real. One of those girls must have gotten a high-quality replica of her actual pussy, made as a gift for Damien. Those groupies are freaks!

It looks nasty, with long floppy pink lips, and there is a piercing above the clitoris. No pubic hair, but even a few tiny red spots and imperfections, which makes it look remarkably natural. Just all that slime is rather excessive. The amount of detail of this thing is stunning, it must have been expensive. A weird gift, definitely elaborate fetish stuff. I have seen girls throwing plush bears, flowers, or panties on a stage, but a replica pussy? That's obscene!

Although it is all wet and gooey, I can't help but touch it. Wow, that feels realistic too, and even warm. It must have been heated up beforehand? So odd!

The piercing seems to be real as well, and I shove the fake clitoris around a bit to investigate how it might have been made, but can't really figure out how this thing was produced. No seams or so.

LUNA

Damien is so great! I can't wait to give the envelope and letter to him, but I need to wait for the end of the show, to reach him at the right moment. I just can't do it now during the concert, as he would either have to put it aside or even worse, open it on the stage for everyone to see. No, that would be a nightmare. I must give it to him privately afterward and make sure he knows that this is very serious. Even if I can't make it today, I will still have another chance tomorrow.

My breath stops, as he smiles and points at me again. He must remember me from previous concerts, maybe even the moment we talked once. He strokes back his sexy long black hair, then they play When the Sun rises. Oh yes! Does he know? Do they play it for me?

I sing along as I know the lyrics by heart. "Open land in morning Myst, when the moon fades and the stars are missed, I take your hand to..."

I gasp and flinch, as my naked pussy suddenly smashes to the cold floor. "Yikes!"

In a reflex, I push my legs together, but that doesn't do anything. Shit! Hastily, I ruffle through my purse, but it is gone. The envelope is gone, just the letter is still there. It must have fallen out somehow? I get even paler than I already am and push a girl next to me aside, so I can search the ground, but it's too dark and I can't see shit. Please no, how did that even happen?! That damn thing must be here somewhere. I must be careful not to step on it by accident with my heavy boots. That would be a catastrophe, crushing my own genitals. But where the fuck is it, and why is it naked? Just how? I can't wrap my head around it, I'm sure it was still in my purse just a second ago. I would clearly have noticed the movement if somebody took it, so it can't be far.

I grab my phone to get some light, something pushes against my nude vagina, a shoe or something? Gross! I must find it now, before someone steps on it, or worse, even finds it. What a mess! I can't believe that my naked genitals disappeared somewhere just beside my feet.

I freeze and cringe as alien fingers grope at my bare pussy out of nowhere. In panic, I sweep the tiny phone-light around, but can't spot the source of the violating fingers, which are shamelessly poking at my unprotected clitoris. Stop, I don't want that. Who is doing this, who found it before me? "Oh no... no!"

Somebody picks it up, but it isn't here. My pussy isn't here at all, where the fuck did I lose it? Who is touching me? I try to protect my crotch with my hand, but the violation happens at a completely different place. I quickly glance up to Damien, but he doesn't even notice me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't let him fuck me now anymore. Shit!

The music blurs and my vision narrows. I feel like my heart explodes and my throat constricts tighter and tighter. The unstoppable sensation of strange fingers on my most intimate skin gives me an anxiety attack! I need to breathe! Nobody is supposed to touch me there like this.

In shock, I plow through the crowd and cling to a table at the back of the venue. "Calm down Luna, don't panic." I mumble to myself and look at the crowd. My vagina is gone and I don't even know who has it now. This is a nightmare! How am I even supposed to find it? Tears are running down my face, ruining my makeup and blurring my sight.

I jump up, as hot water is burning my pussy and rude invisible hands from another dimension are kneading it. Fuck, it's like I'm haunted by ghosts! I press my thighs together, but that isn't helping at all. I am completely at the mercy of whoever has my pussy. He can do whatever he wants with it. It's a guy, isn't it? Or are those female fingers? No, probably not. The rushing hot water stops, and I'm grinding my teeth in pain as the stranger brutally wrings out my pussy like a wet towel.

"OUUU!!" I howl and stumble forwards. A spark of hope, as I realize, that it must be at a place with hot water just now.

I run towards the bar and stare at the sink. There is a tap with hot water, but it is not in use. "Where do I get hot water!"

The bartender ignores me, while he mixes a few cocktails for a group of girls.

I don't have time for this! "Please, hurry! I need to know where to get hot water, quick!"

"Relax okay? I am at work and not on the run." He puts the stainless steel shaker down and turns to the sink to fill a cup with hot water.

"No, not this one, another place with hot water!" I shout in panic without further explanation.

The barkeeper stares funny at me. "Why do you even need it?"

One of the waiting girls' answers. "The restrooms maybe?!"

"Thank you!" I don't waste any further time and rush toward them. I will check the male one first!

AIDEN

I turn off the water and give that thing a good shake and squeeze to get off the weird moistness. Bleach would probably have been better, but for now regular soap has to do the job. As I sniff it, it doesn't smell funny anymore and the gooey slime seems to be gone. Good! I pet it dry with a bunch of paper towels, then I let the peculiar gift disappear in my pants. In the end, those things are called pocket pussy for a reason, and it turns out, it fits rather neatly.

Sad, the girl with the red hair is gone, when I get back to the stage. I look around, but can't see her anywhere. That's disappointing, especially as I expected her to be such a massive fan. While the band performs loudly, I shout at Michael to get his attention. "Hey, you wouldn't believe what I found!"

"What?"

"This thing." I pull the floppy prop pussy out of my pocket and dangle it in front of his face.

He laughs beguiled in odd surprise. "Hahahaha! Wow, that's the most ridiculous crap ever! Hey Vivienne, look what Aiden found in the restrooms."

"Eww, that's gross! Why did you even pick up that trash?" She is not amused.

He jokes: "You know, Aiden hasn't had much luck with girls lately, see he needs to take what he can get. Just pure efficiency, haha."

"Ha-ha, very funny. But I gave it a good clean with soap and hot water. It's not dirty anymore."

She shivers. "Yuck! This mess couldn't even get clean if you scrubbed it with bleach. Don't you think it's disgusting? Some weirdo shoved his dick into that. Please throw it away, it's garbage."

"Maybe I can sell it on the internet? It is surprisingly well made, I am sure somebody might be crazy enough to pay good money for it." I am still holding it in my hands.

Only then I do notice the weirded-out faces and pointing fingers by a group of girls close to me, I hold it lower to not cause public nuisance, as I don't want to get thrown out of the venue or get into trouble because somebody felt the need to call the police.

"That's filthy, please don't touch me this evening anymore, okay?" Vivienne cringes.

Michael smirks. "He might even be right, did you hear about the streamer girl, who sold her bathtub water?"

"No, but I don't even want to know. Thank you." Vivienne shakes her head.

I pull at the artificial clitoris below the piercing and let it snap like rubber. Vivienne is right, it is gross, weird and obscene, but also somehow fun. Nevertheless, this is not the right place to play with it. That red-haired girl will think that I am a pervert, if she comes back and sees me with it, so I shove it into my pocket again.

The three gossiping girls on the left behind me now definitely think I'm a creep.