Raven's POV
I never thought I'd end up at a strip club, but my buddy Jude had been hounding me for weeks.
"Come on, Raven, it'll be a blast," he'd say, slapping my shoulder like we were back in college.
I figured one night wouldn't kill me. Work had been grinding me down, and a distraction sounded harmless enough. So, there I was, stepping into the dimly lit haze of Velvet Shadows on a Friday night, the bass thumping through my chest like a second heartbeat.
The place reeked of cheap cologne, sweat, and perfume from the dancers gliding across the stages. Neon lights flickered over bare skin, women twisting around poles in thongs and heels that clicked against the polished floors. Jude dragged me straight to a booth near the back, already buzzing from whatever he'd pregamed with.
"See? Told you it'd loosen you up," he grinned, waving over a waitress in a skimpy top that barely contained her tits.
We ordered beers, and I tried to play it cool, sipping mine while watching the show. Bodies writhed under the spotlights, asses shaking, breasts bouncing to the rhythm. It was mesmerizing in a way I hadn't expected, heat building in my gut despite myself.
Jude leaned in, eyes glassy. "You gotta get a lap dance, man. Live a little." I laughed it off, but the alcohol warmed my veins, making everything feel a little sharper, a little more electric.
An hour in, Jude vanished to the bathroom or wherever, leaving me alone with my half-empty bottle. That's when they approached—a group of guys from the table next to us, rowdy and built like they lived at the gym.
"Hey, solo act?" one asked, sliding into the booth uninvited. He was tall, buzzed head, tattooed arms flexing as he clapped my back. His friends followed, four of them total, all smirking like they owned the place.
I nodded, polite but wary.
"Just waiting for my friend."
They laughed, one pouring shots from their bottle.
"Loosen up, pretty boy. This ain't a library." The nickname was fucking annoying. I downed the shot to be sociable, the burn chasing away my hesitation. They kept pouring, talking shit about the dancers, their hands brushing my shoulder, my thigh. It felt casual at first, but the touches lingered.
Jude reappeared eventually, joining the chaos. More shots, more laughter. The room spun a bit, the music pounding harder. One of the guys—Mark, I think his name was—draped an arm around me.
"You ever danced up there?" he joked, nodding at the stage. I shook my head, cheeks flushing. The idea was ridiculous, but the alcohol made it flicker in my mind like a dirty secret.
Before I knew it, they were on their feet, pulling Jude and me toward a side door marked 'Private.'
"Special show," Mark said, his grip firm on my elbow. I stumbled along, protesting half-heartedly.
"Wait, what is this?"
Jude was all in, grinning like an idiot.
"Trust me, Raven. It's epic."
The door swung open to a smaller room, velvet curtains and low couches, the air thicker with smoke and musk.
A blindfold appeared out of nowhere dangling from one guy's hand.
"Party game," he explained, voice low and teasing. "Blind man's bluff, strip club edition."
My heart raced. "No way, guys." But they crowded in, Jude chuckling nervously now. "Come on, it's just fun."
Hands pushed me down onto a couch, the blindfold slipping over my eyes before I could twist away. Darkness swallowed everything, heightening every sound.
"Guys, seriously," I muttered, but my voice lacked conviction. Rough hands grabbed my wrists, tying them loosely behind my back with what felt like a belt. "Shh, pretty boy. Let us take care of you."
The first touch was a hand on my thigh, sliding up under my jeans. I jerked, breath catching. "What the fuck?"
But the fingers were insistent, popping the button, yanking the zipper down. My cock twitched despite the alarm bells, half-hard from the club's vibe. Cool air hit my skin as they tugged my jeans and boxers to my knees, exposing me.
"Look at that," someone whispered, voice husky. " Eager little slut already."
I squirmed, but the blindfold kept me disoriented, hands bound just enough to make escape feel impossible. A mouth descended engulfing the head of my cock in one swift motion. I gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. The guy sucked hard, tongue swirling around the shaft, taking me deeper until his nose brushed my pubes. Pleasure shot through me, sharp and unwanted, my body betraying any protest.
"Please... stop," I whimpered, but it came out more like a moan.
Fingers dug into my thighs, holding me still as he bobbed, slurping noisily. Another set of hands roamed my chest, shoving my shirt up to pinch my nipples, twisting until I arched.
They passed me like a toy. The mouth pulled off with a pop, and I heard shuffling, then a new presence between my legs. This one was rougher—grabbing my balls, squeezing just hard enough to make me yelp, then stroking my slick shaft.
"Bet you've never had a real man handle you," he growled, before shoving two fingers into my mouth. I gagged, tasting salt and liquor, but he forced them deeper, making me suck.
My cock throbbed, leaking pre-cum that he smeared over the tip. Without warning, he flipped me onto my stomach, ass up on the couch. The blindfold slipped slightly, but I couldn't see shit—just shadows.
"No, wait—" My plea cut off as hands spread my cheeks, a thumb circling my hole. Lube dripped down, followed by a probing finger. I clenched, but he pushed in anyway, crooking to hit that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes.
"Fuck, he's tight," the guy announced, like I wasn't there. Another finger joined, scissoring, stretching me open. Pain mingled with the building heat, my cock grinding against the cushion. I hated how good it felt, how my body craved more even as my mind screamed no. The fingers withdrew, replaced by something thicker, the blunt head of a cock pressing against my entrance.
He thrusted in with a grunt. I cried out, the burn intense as he buried himself balls-deep in one go. My ass clenched around the invasion, every inch stretching me wide.
"Take it, bitch," he snarled, pulling back only to slam forward again. He pounded fast and relentless, his hips slapping my ass and balls smacking my taint.
Tears soaked the blindfold, but pleasure coiled tight in my gut. Each thrust hit my prostate, sending jolts up my spine. I moaned despite myself, pushing back unconsciously. He laughed, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, fucking me like he owned me.
"Yeah, you love it. Gay little whore."
He came with a roar, flooding my ass with hot cum, pulsing deep inside. I shuddered, on the edge but not quite there. He pulled out, cum leaking down my thighs, and hands immediately hauled me up, repositioning me on my knees. Another cock, thicker this time, nudged my lips.
"Open up." I hesitated, but a slap to my cheek made me part them. It shoved in, salty and veined, fucking my mouth with short, brutal jabs.
Gagging, drool spilling down my chin, I sucked as best I could, tongue working the underside. The guy groaned, threading fingers through my hair to control the pace. Behind me, someone else took the other guy's place, sliding into my cum-slick hole easily now and stretching me further. They synced up, one thrusting into my ass while the other filled my throat, using me from both ends.
The cock in my mouth swelled, shooting ropes of cum down my throat. I swallowed reflexively, choking on the load. The one in my ass sped up, grunting as he unloaded, mixing with the first guy's seed. They withdrew, leaving me gasping, body trembling. But there were more.
The third guy was impatient, flipping me onto my back and hoisting my legs over his shoulders. Blindfolded still, I felt his cock line up and plunge in. He fucked deep, angling to grind against my prostate with every stroke. My own cock bobbed, untouched, aching for release.
"Beg for it," he demanded, slowing to a tease.
"Please... fuck me harder," I whispered, hating myself in this moment.
He obliged, railing me until the couch shook, his sweat dripping onto my chest. Fingers wrapped around my shaft finally, jerking roughly in time with his thrusts. I came undone, spurting cum across my stomach in thick arcs, ass clenching around him. He followed seconds later, pumping more into me until I overflowed.
The fourth was the roughest, pinning me face-down, ass high, and mounting me like an animal. His cock was average but he wielded it viciously, spanking my cheeks red between thrusts.
"You're our cumdump now," he hissed, each word punctuated by a slap. Pain and ecstasy twisted together; I sobbed into the cushion, cock hardening again impossibly.
He didn't last long, flooding me with his load before passing me off. Wait no, there was a fifth? The group blurred in my haze. Jude's voice cut through once—
"You okay, man?" —but it was distant, like he was part of it now. Another cock, this one familiar maybe, slid into my sloppy ass, fucking the mess deeper. Hands everywhere stroking, pinching, forcing me to suck fingers clean of cum.
They took turns, rotating, using every hole. One made me ride him, blindfolded and bound, bouncing on his lap while he sucked hickeys into my neck. Another bent me over the arm of the couch, pounding until my legs shook. Cum dripped from my ass, my mouth, coating my skin. I lost count with each one pushing me higher.
By the end, I was a wreck, my body marked with bites and handprints, ass throbbing and full. They untied me, slipping the blindfold off. Light blinded me momentarily and the room was empty save for Jude and Mark, smirking.
"Good game, pretty boy."
Jude looked guilty but excited, handing me my clothes.
I dressed in silence, legs wobbly, cum trickling down my thigh. Such a wild night.