The Seduction of Cherry Supreme

"And now—The Kingsmen's Lounge is proud and honored to present—for your erotic en-ter-tainn-ment—Fifty-four Tripp-le EEE! Twenty-four! Thirty-eight! And believe it or not, gentlemenn—she is still—A Virgin! So wipe'em off and put 'em together for the Pleaser Teaser, the Virgin Sex Goddess—the one, the only, Cherry Supreme!!"

Amid the hoots and cheers of a packed house and the strains of the latest dance-pop track, the blonde bombshell known as Cherry Supreme pirouetted from out behind the curtain and onto the stage. Her deliciously ample bosom was barely contained in a spangled pink evening dress with silvery spaghetti straps and a slit up the left side that showed just the right amount of leg—and maybe just a little bit more.

Her smile seemed to reflect the spotlights as she danced and pranced up and down the runway, her curly platinum hair swirling around her like a fountain of white light. This was the first number in the set, and she usually enjoyed it the most, for she could tease the audience the most. And tease she did. Sometimes she would pull back the slit in her dress just enough to let some lucky guy get a glimpse of her crotch. For another, she would slowly grind her butt barely two inches from his pie-eating grin of a face, then pull away before he could make a grab for it. But most of the time she teased them with her stupendous, spectacular breasts. She would pull back the cup of her dress just enough to reveal the nipple, then cover up again. Or she would squeeze her bust until it looked like her dress would split open—then let her breasts bounce very, very nicely back into place like two very large bowls of pudding. Or she would pick the oldest man by the stage and bend over him, wiggling her tits right in front of his eyes. Sometimes the old man would wiggle back.

It was during that last tease that Cherry caught sight of the stranger. He wasn't any different from most of the nameless, faceless men that Cherry encountered—except for the way he stared at her, with a soft smile that hinted at a secret he knew about her that she did not. That, and his eyes, which seemed to glitter with an inner light.

—Yes—his eyes—

Cherry was suddenly aware she had stopped dancing. She quickly recovered and danced back to the center of the stage, where she then unfastened her dress. With a smile, a spin and a flourish she cast he dress to the side, letting her magnificent bounty spring free. The rest of the audience went utterly wild—but the stranger was nowhere to be seen.

The rest of the set was quite routine. Wearing only a G-string, Cherry circulated among the audience, trading up-close glimpses of her marvelous mammaries and her curvaceous caboose for one and five dollar bills. This took two songs out of the set, and it was all she could do to make her way though the crowd. She would dance just close enough to accept the tips, then dance away to the next customer.—Look but don't touch, boys.—

Finally, she got back onstage, where her plexiglass bathtub was waiting for her. The music became a slow, seductive jazz number as she soaked a sponge full of soapy water, then wrung it out slowly over her body, until it gleamed and glistened with warm, soapy wetness. Soaking the sponge again, she placed it between her huge breasts and squeezed, the surge of soapy bubbles flowing down the treasure trail of her belly to cover her pussy in glistening white foam.

With the set finished, Cherry spent the next forty minutes signing autographs and posing for photographs. With those finished, she sat alone sipping a bottle of water while watching the crowd watch the house dancers. Her magnificent tits rose and fell slowly and rhythmically as she took deep, regular breaths, letting the tension flow out, letting her mind and body relax—

"How do you do."

Cherry turned with a start. It was the stranger. She hadn't even noticed his approach. She tried to take in the rest of his features—his hair, his height, his weight, his clothes—but she kept being drawn back to his eyes.—His eyes—

"Mind if I sit down?"

"N—no, go ahead," said Cherry. The stranger took a chair across the table, never taking his eyes off of hers. He still wore the smile she remembered from earlier, she wondered if he ever didn't smile.

"You're very beautiful," said the stranger.

"Thank you," Cherry replied.

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes—why shouldn't I?"

"You'd be surprised how many women don't know how beautiful they are. No matter how many times they've been told, no matter how many men respond to their beauty, they still think they don't deserve the attention. Do you know what I'd like to do for those women?"

"No—what?"

The stranger leaned closer. Before, his eyes had merely glittered. Now, it seemed to Cherry, they glowed like candle-flames, and she couldn't turn away.

He spoke, "I'd like to hypnotize them—to look into their eyes and put them into a deep trance, and go directly to their minds and let them know how beautiful and desirable they truly are."

"Is that what you're doing to me?" asked Cherry in a soft, whispery voice. "Am I being hypnotized?"

"Perhaps," the stranger replied. "Maybe you're hypnotizing yourself. Maybe you're trying to give yourself permission to do something you've never done before."

Cherry managed a nervous little laugh. "Look—I don't think—"

"I can't make you do anything you don't want to," said the stranger. "If I'm hypnotizing you, it's because you want to be hypnotized. If you want to be with me, that's your choice too. All you have to do is say no—or yes—"

Cherry didn't say anything—she just took a deep breath and let her eyes close. The world became like a dream, and she felt his warm breath against her ear as he whispered the name of a hotel—and a room number—

And then she opened her eyes. The stranger was gone—if he had even been there. She looked around the club trying to find him when the floor manager came up to her.

"You'd better get a move on, it's only ten minutes until your next set—"

"Where's the guy I was talking to?"

"What guy? What are you talking about?"

"He was right here!" Cherry looked around, agitated. "And he said. . .and he was. . . and he told me. . .Why can't I remember?"

Now the floor manager was getting concerned. "Look—do you need more time? If you're not feeling well—"

Somehow, Cherry managed to calm down. "No. . .no, it's okay. I"m fine. I'll be ready."

With that, she turned and went to the dressing room to get ready for the last set of the evening.

* * *

Cherry had remembered the hotel room, and that's where she was now, standing out in the hall. She was wearing one of the black knee-length spandex dresses that she usually wore between numbers, the kind that held fast to every stupendous curve on her body. As she approached the door she took deep, heavy breaths and started counting to fifty in a desperate yet failing effort to calm herself.

You see, Cherry truly was a virgin. The more cynical members of her audience who decried her "Virgin-Sex-Goddess" title as mere hype could not have been more wrong. But you didn't need to have sex with men to be able to dance in the nude for them, or to tease them out of their dollar bills. Perhaps that was why she was still a virgin; she liked teasing men too much.

Or maybe she was waiting for the right one.

Now, the man who could very well be the right one, the one man she couldn't tease, was on the other side of a hotel room door. She raised her hand to knock, then discovered it was cracked open. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pushed gently on the door and walked in.

As the door closed behind her, Cherry went to the center of the room and turned around slowly. The room was still fresh, the bed still made. Cherry supposed it wasn't even checked out, yet the door was unlocked. Where was he?

"I knew you would come."

The stranger's voice came from behind. Chills ran through her as though the tip of a warm, wet tongue was being slowly drawn up the small of her back. All at once Cherry felt her mouth go dry and her pussy go soaking wet. Barely breathing, she stood still as a statue and waited for what would happen next.

"Take your dress off."

Cherry reached up and slowly pulled the dress straps down past her shoulders. As she revealed her mountain-size tits she let her hands press and squeeze and stroke them all the way around, and around, and around. She circled the areolae of her swollen hot-pink nipples with her index fingers, slowly and lightly at first, then with ever-increasing pressure and speed, until she was twirling each nipple between her thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting them with a special urgency she had never known before. She suddenly grabbed the top of her dress and slipped it all the way down and off, then plunged both her hands into her hot, wet pussy, stroking and massaging it as though trying to get all ten fingers on her clitoris at once. With each breath she let out a soft, low, ecstatic moan. This time there was no teasing, no empty promises to an audience willing to believe them. Just her own raw, naked, honest desire.

"Turn around."

Cherry heard the stranger's voice behind her, and she had to—wanted to—obey. As she faced him she saw the same soft, knowing smile she knew from the club; he seemed to have no other expression. Her ow expression was that of utter, unabashed longing—yet there was a small part of her that wouldn't yet yield.

Somehow, the stranger sensed this.

"What's wrong?"

"Would you please tell me your name?" said Cherry.

"Is that important?"

Cherry stepped near to the stranger and closed her eyes. "I'm going to fuck you, and I've never fucked anyone before. You got what you wanted—me. You want me to be your whore—I'm your whore. You want me to be your slave—I'm your slave, I'm all yours and then some—but I still need to know that much about you. For my sake, will you please give me your name?"

The stranger whispered his name into Cherry's ear. That was all she needed; with a long deep breath she sank to her knees and opened her eyes. The stranger's stiff, deep-red cock was bobbing up and down in her face; Cherry could feel the heat radiating off it like a branding iron fresh from the fire. She leaned forward and put her lips around the head of the cock, holding it there while she swirled the tip of her tongue all around it, gently savoring her first sweet taste of man-meat. She then slowly pushed out the head with her tongue, then just as slowly pulled it back in with her lips. As she repeated the process she found herself moving further down his cock-shaft with each stroke, and each stroke was more rapid than the last, and each stroke was accompanied by a deep, almost guttural moan that would have been a shriek of delight if she hadn't had an iron-hard cock deep down her throat.

Cherry couldn't believe herself. She was actually fucking a man with her mouth! She had always thought she was a nice girl—a stripper, yes, but still a nice girl. Yet here she was, a she-devil in heat, a fuck goddess the likes of which existed only in porn videos. Was this really her, or did the stranger hypnotize her into acting this way? Then Cherry realized, as she grabbed his buttocks and forced his cock deep down her throat, that she really didn't give a damn.

Somewhere up above her, the strange moaned deep and long. Cherry felt the vibrations through the man's cock still deep in her throat and it excited her even more. She disengaged herself and grabbed his hands to pull him toward the bed. When they reached it the stranger let go and Cherry fell backwards onto the bed, her legs flying open like they were spring-loaded. With one hand she tried to stroke both her nipples at once, while with the other she tugged at her clit with rapid-fire intensity. The wet, high-voltage tingling in her pussy was more than she could stand.

"Fuck me!" she all but snarled.

"Fuck me now!"

Not once did the stranger's expression change. "Say please."

"Please fuck me—please," said Cherry, her voice reduced to a whimper. The stranger positioned himself over Cherry and took her huge mammaries in his hands, circling the stiff, deep-red nipples with his thumbs. Cherry almost didn't notice, as she was gazing into his eyes. Again. "There are two things you must realize," said the stranger. "First, in this time, and in this place, you are the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. Second, in this time and in ths place, I am the Master. I am your Master. Do you understand?"

Cherry did understand. "Yes, Master."

With that, the stranger mounted atop her trembling body and with a firm, single thrust buried his steel-hard shaft deep, deep into Cherry's soaking-wet snatch. She howled with delight as he pushed himself into her, deeper, harder, faster, matching his thrusts with her own pelvic grindings, wrapping her arms and legs around him to pull him closer.

"Fuck me, Master," she gasped between shrieks of ecstasy. "Fuck me mre, please, I need this, I want this, I need you, just keep fucking me, I'll do anything you say—"

"Yes, you will," said the stranger as he dismounted her. "Now get up on all fours."

Cherry immediately rolled over onto her hands and knees. She could feel the stranger's hands fondling her firm, magnificent ass, and she moaned softly as his thumbs gently probed her rectum. It was just like stroking her clitoris.

"I'm going to fuck your ass now."

"Yes, Master," Cherry pleaded. "Fuck my ass now. I need it. . .I want it. . ." The rest caught in her throat as the stranger entered her ass. Cherry could feel every single inch of his cock as he slowly pushed it in, then pulled it out. As his thrusting increased in speed, Cherry's massive jugs swayed back and forth in time with his movement. When the stranger cradled her breasts with both hands, she let him lift her off the bed and started fingering her pussy voraciously once her hands were free. Her soft moans became hard growls then ecstatic screams as she bounced back and forth on his cock, over and over again and again. Then, without warning, the stranger pushed her off his cock and flipped her on her back just in time for her to receive a geyser of jism all over her stomach and right between her tits. Cherry scrambled over to his cock just in time to take the second blast of cum right in her face, and then the third. She slowly massaged the cum into her face and all over her breasts, then knelt down to take his still-stiff cock into her mouth to suck it dry.

When she finished, she pulled away and bowed her head to her Master. "I'll always obey you," she said softly. "I'll always be your slave."

"No, you won't," the stranger replied. "This was just for tonight. There are other women who need my attention, and I've proven to you what you needed to prove to yourself. Do you understand?

Cherry did understand. "But what will happen to me after you're gone?"

"That's simple," said the stranger, gazing into her eyes. "You're going to forget about everything that's happened tonight. And—you're going to forget about me."

"Now wait a minute!" said Cherry. "You hypnotize me into being a total whore, make me do things I wouldn't do on a million-dollar bet, and you expect me to forget all that?!"

"It's what you wanted—to be sexually free and explicit. But in order to be completely free, you have to be free of me. That's why you have to forget me. And you will forget. . . "

"Yes, master," said Cherry, her eyes slowly closing. "I will forget. . . "

* * *

But Cherry didn't forget—not entirely. For one thing, she could hardly be called the Virgin Sex Goddess after she acquired a reputation for seducing club bouncers and patrons almost everywhere she went. And all through the rest of her career she kept looking for—someone—to appear at the clubs she performed—althought she wasn't sure who he was, or why she wanted him. Even after she retired, she kept expecting to see a soft, secret smile on a man with candle-flame eyes to come to her in her dreams and fuck her like nobody else ever fucked her.

It didn't happen. She never saw him again.

THE END