Blackmailing Miss Fortescue Ch. 01

We found a space and I looked at the floor while Jeffers joined in, enthusiastically shouting obscenities and joining in the mayhem as the barracked the half-naked dancer strutting her stuff on the tiny, brightly lit stage. A drunk staggered over to Jeffers and accused him of spoiling his mates' fun earlier ('fun' meaning groping me outrageously on the steps).

I cringed as I heard Jeffers invite him and his friends to join us, the drunk disappeared momentarily and Jeffers hailed a waiter.

"Ten double vodkas with tonic water, please," he demanded. "She's paying."

"If you think I'm buying those thugs...."

"...oh, but you are, Miss, or your striptease goes viral. How many more times? Do as you're told!"

The drunk and his friends arrived at the same time as the drinks and, meekly, I paid the waiter.

"Ah, she must have enjoyed what we were doing to her on the steps if she's buying us drinks now," shouted one, over the loud music.

"Something like that," shouted Jeffers, smiling.

Encouraged, they encircled me again rather like vultures sensing a kill but this time I was pantie-less, coatless and had my hands occupied holding my drink. I knew I was potentially far more defenceless and vulnerable to another attack now than I had been outside and hoped against hope that they wouldn't start their nonsense again.

However, my luck was definitely out and the dirty bastards wasted no time in picking up where they had left off as I felt hands where they shouldn't be under my dress again. Jeffers added fuel to the fire by producing my G-string and inviting all the reprobates to take a smell and a sniff, to enormous mirth as I had no option but to look on horrified while one of them stuck out his abnormally long tongue and licked the crotch, much to the obvious delight of his chums.

That Jeffers had my panties was a clear signal to the gang that I was now in front of them commando and, very quickly, someone behind me hauled my dress high over my bottom and up to my waist, completely exposing me while any attempt I made to pull it back down was met by a strong, immovable hand holding it firmly where it was while my naked bottom began to get slapped and pinched from all directions. Some of the more stinging spanks made me yelp and squeal but these were largely drowned out by the cheers and loud music for the stripper on stage, by now in full swing.

Inevitably, as I continued to try gamely to resist, my drink spilled onto my dress, followed by a couple of theirs being simply thrown over me and they (after an apparently humorous suggestion) decided to 'help' me by trying to drag my soaking dress off me, up and over my head. I made a huge attempt to prevent this which only resulted in my lovely dress getting ripped virtually in two.

The bastard who had tried to finger me on the steps (at least I think it was him) now took full advantage of my position as I felt two of his mates' strong hands gripping my arms away and prising my legs wide apart by hooking their feet around my ankles.

Stuck in this position, I was horrified when he first held my pussy lips open and massaged and strummed my clitoris (which I must admit I could feel beginning to stiffen due to his attentions) as I stood there mortified. They greedily watched me having my clitty frigged in just my heels, satin half-cup bra, stockings and a suspender belt that they took delight in twanging and then, as I feared most, I felt two of my tormentor's long and horny digits breaking through and penetrating right up into me as I tried vainly to squirm away.

Embarrassingly, the news of what was being done to me had travelled like wildfire around the room and the stage spotlight was shifted to fall squarely on me, rather than the stripper who, hand-on-hips, glared daggers at me as most of the catcalling was along the lines that I was far better looking that the dancers and had gone a lot further, albeit entirely against my will.

Very quickly my bra was unclipped followed by more horny hands finding their way up to my firm little tits as they bounced perkily into full view and my by now-erect nipples were pinched, squeezed and rolled between the eager fingers of my unwanted admirers with scant regard for any pain I may have felt..

I then stood virtually naked except for my shoes, with my stockings by then having been pulled roughly down below my knees, my suspender belt, having been expertly unhooked and stolen along with the rest of my clothes, presumably as a souvenir.

Worse still, it now dawned on me that the relentless pervert giving my pussy a working over really did seem to know what he was doing: My clit throbbed and my juices flowed to his rhythms as he took me to the edge of orgasm only to stop on multiple occasions leaving me desperate to climax, much to the amusement of his gang who vociferously admired his work whilst letting me know in no uncertain terms how much they relished seeing him making me suffer and what a good slut they thought I made.

My nipples were aching and as hard as bullets and along with my pulsating clitty, unless by some miracle 'Fingers' was going to stop, I knew that complete humiliation beckoned. All I could possibly do was to wait for the inevitable, very public orgasm. I was, however, in for another violation when someone's finger pushed against my tight butthole and was worked up and in, impaling me as I writhed helplessly against the tormentor's deep probing and endless teasing.

By now, the stripper had left the stage, the music had died down and all eyes and ears fell on me. In an electric atmosphere, the pussy groper, as if recognising his skills were on show, started to quicken his pace while I was kept still for him by the guy with his finger far up my bum as I suppressed little groans and moans trying desperately to keep control of myself.

He shouted: "Shall I make her cum, lads?" to which the gathered audience yelled back "No!" like some insane pantomime. Yet again, he brought me right to the edge only to deny me just as I started to convulse until finally, after few exhausting and draining "No's", his mates finally answered "Yes!" and amid the filthy language of the assembled throng he finally took me all the way, I completely lost control and came deeper, harder and louder than I had ever done before as his skilled fingers milked me dry to rapturous applause, many throwing more sticky beer over me in a final act of degradation,

Loudly observing how wet I was, the groper forced his drenched finger into my mouth so, as he said, I could taste my own cum.

At long last and far too late, what was laughingly called a bouncer intervened and, with Jeffers, pulled me out of the room where Jeffers grabbed my coat wrapped it around my naked, wet and thoroughly dishevelled body and escorted me, barely able to stand, to my car. Recovering in the driving seat, I glared at Jeffers.

"See you tomorrow, then Susie," he said lightly, almost as if nothing had happened, "by the way, I thought you'd like to know that that was my finger up your arse!"

"You bastard," I sighed.

"Bastard?" He replied. "We haven't even started yet, Miss..."

I switched on the ignition and, exhausted from my exploits, headed slowly home.

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