I’m a hot bitch. After being called a bitch enough, I’ve come to accept the term with a sort of pride for always getting what I want, and the hot part? Well, I’ve always been hot.
I used to go on to chat rooms just to describe myself in all honesty, and have people doubt that was possible: blond, 5’6″, size 34D (isn’t that what guys just love to hear?), and a nice, round ass. The most common response was frustration that I was just some liar, or some loser making up the characteristics for fun. I always had a good laugh to myself at the guy’s reaction, and a few lesbians too, when I could find them. I never posted any pictures, though, because I couldn’t put my face to the horribly slutty things I would say to those people. Oh, but to see the looks on their faces would have been so worth it!
When I go out to a bar with my friends, I like to dress to kill. A short dress always does the trick, because my legs are really sexy and I’ve been told that a mini-dress suits me.
As you can tell, I love to tease, and I do it regularly because it gets me off later, when I’m all alone. I think of the power I had over all those guys, and about how much they wanted me – but most of all, what they would do to me. There have been times I’ve sat on a guy’s lap because he’s good at dirty talk, and that always does it for me! But lap-sitting is about as hands-on as I get. I am not really a slut.
“Hey gorgeous,” one man purred as he moved a little closer to me at the bar, and he wasn’t bad to look at either. Still, I paid him no attention, but bent over the counter a little to get the bartender’s attention.
“Shot of tequila!”
Most people I know would actually call me conservative in my everyday life, because I’ve only slept with a handful of people, and I’m already twenty-five. That’s getting up there in age, compared to the young little things I see at the club dressed as slutty as a girl can imagine. Still, you should see the guys falling all over themselves when they look at me. I’ve been told I look much younger than I am, and that my sexual aura is very inviting.
“You … want me to get that for you?” Handsome asked, but I just look at him, smile, and then look away. Too easy.
I don’t know why I enjoy being such a bitch, but I love it. I leaned over a little more, fantasizing as I spoke to the bartender about what Handsome might do to me if he had the chance. Maybe if I was tied up somewhere … Such dirty thoughts. I wanted to be punished, but Handsome seemed so plain to me. He probably wanted me on my back, missionary style. Where is the excitement? The adventure? I sighed as my drink slid over the bar, and I paid to swallow it back and grimace at the strong taste.
Handsome’s hands were on me as I drifted over to the dance floor, but I let him guide my hips. It felt nice for a little while. I even danced with him for a few minutes before I was bored with his hard-on pressing onto my ass.
“I have to go to the washroom,” I lied, excusing myself to the bathroom just in case he was watching. I’d been teasing people all night, and the exhaustion of my work week was beginning to hit me when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.
There in the bathroom was a couple making out – two women. I held my breath and watched for a moment as a very feminine young woman moaned and tugged down her panties from under her short skirt. She flashed a look of embarrassment bursa escort over her shoulder when she caught me staring, but she let them drop anyway, and returned her lips to the kiss.
I watched in the mirror as a more masculine young woman moved her hand up the soft thigh of her make-out partner. Those fingers were heading under that skirt, but right in front of me? I was not usually witness to such intimate displays of affection, with both partners being of sound mind. And being lesbians. I wasn’t sure what to feel about it.
The young thing threw her arms around Butch’s shoulders, and she tensed for a moment as I realized those fingers had been pushed into her. I let out the deep breath I’d been holding as Butch looked at me from over her lover’s shoulder.
Without a word, she turned the girl around, and leaned her over to brace herself on the stall as the sexy skirt was pushed up, over her hips. What was I watching?!
I turned to watch the sight just as I lost my breath again. Butch locked eyes with me as she licked her finger, and obviously placed it on the girl’s ass. On her asshole! My eyes went so wide they felt dry, and I had to balance myself over the counter so as not to fall in my heels. My lips were dry. My hair felt unnatural, tickling my shoulders. My dress suddenly felt too short.
When I heard women making their way into the bathroom, I straightened myself up, and turned to face the mirror again. I looked at myself just as the ladies filed in, talking too loudly about some jerk that was getting a little too friendly. I immediately glanced into the mirror to where I had seen Butch and her girl, but they had disappeared into a stall. I could hear them shuffling around, but I braced myself on the sink for a moment.
Then, without thinking, I walked past the girls, and made my way to the stalls. I gently pushed the door open that was next to the two lovers, and just stood there for a moment. I didn’t know what to do. What was I waiting for? What did I want?
When the women had finished in the washroom and all was silent again, I began to think that the lovebirds had gone, and I was alone in there.
I finally opened the stall with some disappointment, only to be face-to-face with Butch herself. My heart started racing as she stepped into the stall with me, forcing me to take a few steps back and put my hands to walls. The door to the stall was locked, and I panicked: “What’re you doing?”
My question just hung in the air for a moment, until she stepped in real close, and put her hand over my throat – pinning me to the wall with strength I hadn’t known a woman could possess. My hands immediately went up in defence, but I simply watched her as she stared at me. Her bright blue eyes were staring into mine.
“Do you make it a habit to watch?”
I swallowed hard. “No! … No, I’m sorry …”
Her hold tightened, and I thought I would have slipped if she weren’t so close to me. One hand lazily slipping over my mid-section. Was she patting me down?
“No – wait!” I gasped, keeping eye contact as her free hand cupped me between my legs, and then pulled back just as easily. I was absolutely speechless.
“I don’t make it a habit to touch sluts. Don’t let me catch you watching me again.”
She was just my height, but her arms were so well defined it was an oddity. I struggled to keep my breathing even as she somewhat loosened her bursa escort bayan hold on me. I wanted to scream I wasn’t a slut – this whole night had been an act – but all I could was comply to her demands. “Y-yes … yes.”
I couldn’t believe my train of thought, but I wanted her to tell me what else to do. My desperation must have been in my eyes.
“And quit whoring around with all those guys. Close your fucking legs for a change.”
I gasped in again as her hold loosened yet again, and she looked at me very closely. I could feel her reading into my expression, and I tried desperately not to be so transparent. How long had it been since I’d broken up with my ex? Seven months and counting.
“Wow, do you ever want it bad,” she chuckled, removing her hand from my neck to suddenly gain a very serious expression. “I mean it. Keep your eyes off me and my bitch.”
But I was a bitch. Didn’t she want me at all? I found myself thinking this as she turned and walked out of the stall, leaving me to my quivering, as I slumped down on the toilet to breathe in and out with exaggeration. What had just happened? What was wrong with me?
When I had finally pulled myself together, I left the bathroom to make my way over to the bar, ordering another shot. I looked around the bar just to see where Butch was. Where could she have gone so quickly.
When I finally did catch sight of her, I noticed her girl had one leg draped into her lap, and was kissing her neck in a sloppy manner that had me wet. I wanted to dote on Butch like that. I wanted her to allow me to do it. I wanted her to put her arm around me while seemingly disinterested. I wanted to be used.
“Your tequila!” The bartender yelled again over the loud music, and I shot it straight down before my eyes were drawn back to the dominating presence in the lounge area of the bar.
Piercing eyes suddenly gripped mine, and I panicked by turning around and cursing myself. What was I thinking?! She had specifically threatened me not to look at her. Was I really so desperate that I simply couldn’t help myself? I shut my eyes, and held onto my clutch. I needed to get out of there, and fast.
I didn’t really want that. I didn’t want any of that. It was all just some stupid fantasy.
I kept telling myself that as I slipped past my friends to assure them I was off for the night. Quickly then, I squeezed past a few interested men to the exit, where I pulled out my phone to call for a cab. I was standing just outside the exit, when an arm slipped over my hip, and before I knew it, I was walking aside the stranger.
“Walk and talk with me.” From the voice at my side, I knew just who it was. Butch.
I looked across the street at the women huddled waiting for their cab.
“Wave nicely to them and we can have a little chat.”
I felt myself obeying to her as she guided me in between buildings, where no one else could see us.
“What did I tell you?” she hissed, grabbing my clutch from me as she looked down to the phone in my hand. “Who’s that?”
“I … I’m calling … calling a cab …”
“Good. Tell them to pick you up.”
I brought the phone up to my ear, and tried thinking of anything other than what I wanted to have her do to me. Was I crazy? I watched her take my ID, and tuck it into her pocket.
At last, the company answered, and I asked for a cab at the address escort bursa right away. She took the phone from me before I could finish the call, and assured them we were in a rush. When she hung up the phone, she gave it back, and pressed my clutch to my chest.
“This,” she started, tapping my ID through her pocket, “Is mine until we meet again. You understand that? Because contrary to what you might be used to, you won’t get whatever you want with me.”
“O-okay,” I stuttered, only serving to further embarrass myself. I felt my knees get shaky as I stood there, leaned against the building with her eyes raking over me in such crude a way it almost seemed like disinterest. But then she locked eyes with me, and I could read into hers, too. She wanted to punish me.
“You like being humiliated?”
I couldn’t help but stutter again, and when I did, she slapped my thigh with impatience. “Take off the panties. Now.” She looked at me as she gave her instruction, knowing I would do it with compliance. “And give them to me.”
I was only wearing a slutty thong, and I felt like a whore in that back alley, as I stepped out of it, and handed it to her. My whole body trembled with excitement. I couldn’t believe what had come over me. She was being so awful to me and I was getting off on it?! Never before had I wanted anything so badly.
Stunned, I very slowly parted my lips until I felt her pushing my own panties into my mouth. I was so shocked I couldn’t resist, finally shutting my eyes as she grinned at what she’d done. I didn’t want to take them out. I was scared of what else I wanted her to do to me, so I tried hard to ignore my feelings.
“How does it taste?”
I whimpered, struggling to keep on my feet.
And just as quickly as she’d pushed the thong into my mouth, she pulled it out again, and tucked it into her other pocket. “Good. Now think about that, and meet me back here next week Saturday. And I’ll decide if I wanna touch you then.”
I wondered just then what she would want me to wear, and cursed myself for being so entirely desperate. I was desperate for a woman?! What was wrong with me?
She guided me back toward the sidewalk where there were a number of cabs already waiting, but her hand on my ass held me back for another moment, before we had quite made it out from the shadows. I stood completely still as I felt her pull up the back of my dress to look at my ass. She stared at it for a few moments before letting it back down. “Not bad.”
It was then I remembered that I was naked under my dress, and I blushed profusely, shutting my eyes again.
“Hey,” she called out as we both stepped out from the dark. “Tell me what to call you.”
I was at her command, but I felt that my real name didn’t belong in a scenario like this, so I spoke quietly to only her after I’d thought on it for a long moment or two: “Hot Bitch.”
“Like a bitch in heat,” she whispered, giving the words a new meaning for me as she crossed her arms. She stood tall as she nodded at last for me to leave. “That’s what I thought.”
I ducked into the cab, and turned back to her to see that she was holding up both of the twenties I had on me, and I laughed despite myself as the cab driver drove off. The audacity! I wondered what she wanted for me – to pay this driver in some other way? But that wasn’t me. I had my Visa on me, so it was fine. Still, I sighed and thought back to the way she’d roughly handled me and ordered me around like a little slave.
All night, that was all I could think about: the truly slutty persona within me that had always been in hiding. The Hot Bitch.