From the dark smoky alcohol filled air that affects my eyes, nose, and lungs. To the beat of the music which I feel throbbing in my pussy. To the whin... of the guitar which threatens to tear out my soul. I look around and find him in the corner. I head to the bar and get two shots, vodka straight up. The liquid fire sliding down my throat is a reminder of the fire I’ll be feeling between my lower lips in a few minutes. I order a third vodka, on the rocks. I turn to survey the bar again, leaving. "Here, this will help," Peter said, offering her a small, crystal object. It looked like a plum on a flat stand. A butt plug of some kind?He watched her amused as she turned it over in her hand. "Put it in your vagina. So nobody accidentally fucks you there." He walked out of the room and back into the foyer.Donna stood for a long time staring at it. He was serious, he'd been serious last week.There was a knock at the door. Peter looked at her and snapped, "get on the Ottoman. On your knees.". More

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