Senator's Dirty Queen

Chapter 2

Then Vignette paused again, looked around at the rapt crowd and moaned quietly, but audibly: " Can't you see I need to be f****d? Who's going to f**k me? Don't any of you want to f**k me?" Two men immediately tried to climb on stage to get at her, but they were quickly intercepted and restrained by the security guard and the bouncer, who had seen what was coming and moved into position to shield her.

Then pressing her crotch gently against the pole and slowly turning around it, fixing one drooling male after another with her pleading stare, she begged quietly: "How about you? Will you f**k me? You there? Is you c**k hard like a rock? Is it big? Can you please just stick it in? Pleeeeeeze? What about you at the second table back? Or you? Or the guy in the blue shirt?"

By now, almost everyone had left their tables and crowded in close to the stage. The bartenders, manager, sound man, other staff, even the waitresses, had ringed the stage to stop the increasing number of eager bucks who were attempting to respond to her desperate entreaty. The manager, afraid that the club might lose its license, loudly announced that he would have to stop the show and call the police if anyone else tried to mount the stage or the performer.

But still Vignette continued to slowly turn around the steel shaft, rubbing her clit and pleading: "Can't you see how bad I need it? Can't you see I'm going to go crazy if I don't c*m right now? Don't you want me? Don' t you want to stick your prick into me? Did you ever f**k a girl's ass? Don't you want to?" she demanded, "Don't you? Or You?" The assemblage of stiff-pricked spectators responded with a growing chant of "Vi-Nni, Vi-Nni, Vi-Nni."

When she finally saw that the men were enjoying the show far too much to risk it being stopped and that no one was going to break through the staff perimeter and rescue her from her ecstatic agony, she resigned herself to the alternative and closed her eyes and began to rhythmically rub the pole, harder and harder, faster and faster, up and down. Her love juices drooled down the shiny steel rod. She was not so frenzied, however, that she forgot to turn periodically so every man in the aroused mob could see exactly what she was doing.

Vignette settled into a fantasy in which the throng of customers around the stage forced their way through her protectors and swarmed over her, f*****g all her holes with huge c***s, several in the same hole at the same time, for hours, until they were all completely drained, leaving her swimming in a slimy sea of sticky man-goo. Somewhere deep in her mind she knew that, in reality, a mob of 300 s*x-crazed men would probably tear her to bits. But the irresistible fantasy, and the thought of how close she was coming to actually living it, thrilled her and transported her to an insanely erotic paradise she had never experienced before. She groaned and grunted, sobbed and sighed, whined and moaned with increasing levels of volume and intensity. While porn actresses frequently fake that kind of delirious rapture, no one in the audience doubted for a second that Vignette was for real. They fell silent and waited, mesmerized, for the climax of her performance.

As her orgasm rushed at her like an out-of-control steam locomotive, her trembling arms became too weak to grasp the pole and hold her weight. She fell to the floor and desperately thrust both hands into her drenched panties to grab at her rock-hard c******s. Arching her back, with her weight on her feet and her shoulders, she bucked like a Brahma bull on loco weed and, as ecstasy spurted through her entire frame, she reached her screaming, shrieking thirty-second finale: "ANGH s**t ANGH s**t ANGH s**t s**t s**t s**t s**t AYYYYYY EEEAAAAAHHHH OOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO OOOOOOOHH OOOOOO OOOO OOOO EEEHHHH OOOOOO OOOOHHHHHHH OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHGOD OHGOD OHGOD OHGOD OHGOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD YA YA YA YA YA YA FFFFFFFFUUUU UUCCCCKKK MMMEEEE ...... Yeeeessssss"

As Vignette's last quiet hiss faded, the audience was so dumb-struck by the spectacle and intensity of her show that several long seconds of silence passed before one guy began to clap slowly. Others quickly joined in and a torrent of applause, hoots, hollers and whistles rolled through the Red Garter for a full minute before the "Vi-Nni" chant began again.

Meanwhile, too depleted to stand to acknowledge the acclaim, Vignette managed to roll over onto her stomach, raise her butt in the air and wiggle it briefly in gratitude. The appreciative crowd laughed and cheered with renewed vigor. Eventually, the manager clambered up on stage and helped her to her feet. However, unknown to Vignette, when she raised her ass and pressed her chest against the stage floor, her tank top had been pushed up, completely exposing her marvelous breasts. The crowd howled their approval, prompting the manager to quickly cover her n*****s and mutter, "Damn wardrobe malfunction."

Quieting the crowd, the manager then loudly proclaimed "For that stirring offering, Vignette wins the $25 gift certificate to Samanths' Sexy Slut Salon, located at 275 Main Street and open noon to midnight every day of the year except Christmas and Easter. 'Shop at Sam's and get f****d every time.'

As he handed her the coupon, he said quietly, "This too" and gave her a small business card. "From the man at Table 42", he added, nodding toward a table in the darkest corner of the room, near the club's rear exit. Vignette could make out little more than an uncertain number of dark, motionless shapes around the table.

The card read simply: "Bradwit P. Markin". And then, in neat hand-lettered print, "Join me for a drink when you have recovered."

Still weak-kneed, Vignette began to slowly make her way down the runway, back to the dressing room. Despite the fact that the only time she ever took off her high heels was when she slept, she wobbled and almost fell a couple of times between the stage and the dressing room. This time, though, when the men on either side reached up to grab her, it was to provide support, not to try to undress her.

After recuperating for a few minutes, Vignette decided to change her outfit a little: dry panties for one thing. She'd brought along an identical spare pair, knowing she'd need them. She also ditched the anklet socks for a pair of pink, elastic top fishnets which came about nine inches short of the hem of her skirt. And she pulled on a pair of long, pink silk opera-style gloves. Guy love having their c***s stroked with silk gloves. Then she let her hair down, pulled up her bangs and used the ribbon to tie them back on top of her head, creating a sort of fountain effect. And she added a small press-on "jewel" high on her left cheek. She slipped her small purse over her shoulder. It was the short-strapped kind favored by streetwalkers because it could be held tightly under the arm to make it difficult for purse snatchers.

The management had left a flower arrangement in the dressing room. She grabbed a 5-inch white hibiscus with a deep pink eye and placed it in her hair, behind her right ear. Whoever this Mr. Markin was, she wanted to give him a little different look to keep him interested. As she looked herself over in the full-length mirror she thought, you know you're a real slut when the length of your skirt, the height of your spike heels and the width of the flower in your hair are all pretty much the same........ Also, I guess, when it says so in block letters across your chest.

“You were fabulous there, sweetheart,” came a female voice as Vignette did not turn to see who it was. She knew that it was her mother-in-law Margery who was there to see if she had performed her part well or not.

“After all, Mom, I have been trained by the best. You know, I could not have asked for a better teacher for teaching me how to dance erotically,” said Vignette as she looked ta herself in the mirror and then asked,” How do I look? Perfect enough? College girl vying for more money and s*x, types?”

“You look perfect. Just lose the jewel stud. It looks tacky. And Markin chases anything but tacky. His wife has no idea that he comes here to choose his new girls for his club but you know what you need to do right?” asked Margery as she pulled away the stud from Vignette’s face and then brushed it up with more powder. Then she gave her a silk shirt of red colour and made her wear a bra underneath.

“There are some things which are good for stage but there is another look which needs to be rapped up with silk and other things to make you look the part. Markin still is not aware of your identity, and we would like to keep it that way until we know for sure we have enough material on him to garner his support for Alexandar’s senatorial campaign,” said Margery and Vignette nodded like the good girl that she was.

“And what about Alex Junior, Mom? I cannot keep on going nights after nights telling I have study group. I mean, he knows that I work harder than anyone in order to keep up the scholarship but he is becoming increasingly suspicious about my activities,” said Vignette, as she bit her lower lip.

“Yes, I have thought about that sweetie. I have a plan in place so that he never says this again. But do what you need to do tonight and Alex will not be talking about this again. But are you sure that he is satisfied in bed?” queried his mother and Vignette sighed.

“Mom he is definitely satisfied with me but I am not. After getting f****d by Daddy in such a way it is almost impossible to be satisfied with him. I mean, he thinks that missionary is the only position to have s*x, Mom. And I cannot tell him anything because then my virgin and good girl image that you told me to keep up is going to be lost,” said Vignette as Margery checked her skirt and panties and then sighed out loud.

“Well it seems that my son needs to be trained by the perfect girl in the perfect manner. And that won’t be you. He will be wrapped up in his own affair so bad that he would never dare to even point his fingers at you; And don’t worry, I am going to take him on an occasional guilt trip as well. So it will be perfect,” said Margery as she kissed Vignette full on the lips and then pulled her n*****s so that they made a thin outline on her silk shirt.

“Now, go and get him at your feet and then let me worry about the rest,” said Margery as Vignette smiled at her prettily.

She stepped out of the dressing room and carefully descended the narrow stairs from the runway to customers' level. Table 42 was in the far corner of the room, so she would have to make her way between tables for most of the width of the club. She adopted the same slinky gait she had used on the runway. Vignette did not need to be told that she had hit the bull’s eye with the show that she had exhibited back there on the stage.

So guys....back with one more chapter and now the game is afoot.,..what do you think will happen next? Will Vignette be able to do the task that she has been given?..tell me what you think...and don't forget to comment and also add the book to your library...enjoy..