The hotel’s corridors were nearly deserted and too warm. Sweat popped up on my forehead, I swore softly and patted it dry while I waited for the elevator. I always feel nervous at a kink conference, especially if it happens to be at a sex positive kink conference where anything can happen, and often does. Or at least, it does if I’m lucky.

The ding of the elevator broke into that line of thought. When the door opened I saw a woman in black leather pants, vest and boots, all set off by a white t-shirt. I grinned as I got in, looking at the curve of her hips and the silver chain that swung across the left one. She was on the phone, she turned a bit to show courtesy, and in her back pocket were two flags: one blue, one red. I tried not to get excited, just because she was flagging left the same two colors that I was flagging right didn’t mean it was going to be a good night.

I could see my blurred reflection in the doors: long blond hair, big tits in a brocade corset, leather skirt that barely covered the cheeks of my ass, and thigh high leather boots. On my right wrist were red bracelets and a blue one, a girl’s version of flagging. The green of my eyes was deepened by the black kohl surrounding them, my mouth was painted with a slick sheer gloss, and a bare dusting of bronzer made my cheekbones look razor sharp and high. I had to admit it was a nice job.

The click of my heels marked our passage down the long hallway toward the section of the hotel that had been put to use as a dungeon. My elevator companion walked to the dungeon quickly, I took my time, saying hello to people I knew and some I didn’t. I paused to flash my badge at the security, and she vanished behind the doors ahead of me. When I entered the play space she was nowhere to be seen, at first, then I spotted her scoping out a suspended redheaded beauty.

“Nice,” I said as I came up behind her.

She knew instantly I meant two things by that, her and the scene.

“Yeah,” her dark eyes crawled over me, “Very nice.”

“I happen to be alone.”

Her eyebrow twitched upward at my boldness, but I didn’t care. There was no sense in being coy. It was Saturday, and I would be on a plane home the next afternoon. I love conferences, being beaten and rough sex, and have long since lost any shame in that fact.

“Good for you.”

“It is really good.” I winked as I said it. “All I want is what I’m wearing, which happens to be the same thing you have on.”

She was fast, one second I was standing there looking at her, the next I was on my back. The takedown was so sudden it made pussy juice spurt out of me and slide down my legs before I could even reason it out. Her face was above mine, and a light was glowing in those eyes, a light that turned me on even more.

She bent her head to my left tit and bit the soft flesh that rose above my corset. I hissed in a long breath and she chuckled, a slow dark bit of mirth that made my belly weak.

There was no time to think, and I didn’t want to anyway. Her hands were hard, I could feel callouses on her fingertips. Musician, I thought dizzily as she squeezed my arms hard enough to raise bruises.

“Say it out loud.”

I love a voice that commands that leaves no room for doubt. Her’s was perfect; it was quiet and low, but undeniable. There was steel running beneath the syllables, and I whispered out, “Put your whole fucking fist in my pussy, Daddy.”

All around us were scenes being played out. From where I lay on the floor I could see naked men and women, some being flogged or whipped, some fucking. I could smell sex, and hear the moans and sobs of the others. My pussy tightened and leaked fluid down my ass crack onto my skirt. I could barely breathe for the lust she had ignited in me.

Fingers slid up my thighs; then she slapped them. The slaps were not light, they stung and burned, and I screamed almost as a reflex.

“I forgot; all you want is to give head and have your cunt filled up with my hand.”

There was laughter in her voice, and I wanted to beg for more, beg for her to spank me, to bite me, but I had set the terms, and she was prepared to honor them. How could I do any less?

Her butchcock was long, thick. Her hands tangled in my hair, and I was hauled to a kneeling position. Her cock pressed against my closed lips, and I parted them willingly. My face scrubbed against denim; her wallet chain slapped the side of my face. My corset was so tight I could barely breathe, and the dick in my mouth heightened that sensation. I came, rocking my pussy along the edge of my own boot as she fucked my face, harder and faster with each second.

Her hips jerked and bucked, and she growled out something entirely unintelligible, proof she had come, and the only evidence of it because she tore my face away from her, zipped her saliva slick cock back into her jeans and put me back onto the floor.

My back hit harder that time, what air I had was knocked out of my lungs. My nipples were rock hard, and my eyes wanted to close as she slid my skirt up over my hips, exposing my shaved nude pussy.

She pulled black latex gloves from one pocket of her jacket, and I spread my legs without a murmur. She grinned, and her teeth caught a delicate sliver of flesh near the junction of my thighs, pulled at it; and then let go.

“Lube is your friend,” she said as she smeared it onto her hand, then two fingers slid inside me.

She didn’t thrust, she simply pushed and pulled, testing my walls, my ability to accept and stretch for her. Three fingers and I began whimpering like a puppy. Her thumb stroked my clit while her fourth finger slid deep, joining the rest.

The dungeon spun away from me. I was on the hard cold floor, and my pussy was exposed to the cool air. The stroke of that air on my wetness was so exciting, and her hands were so insistent. I knew better than to come again, I wanted her in me, and she gave a little grunt of satisfaction as she pressed her thumb into her palm and then her hand into me.

There was that sensation, that feeling of opening, and then there was nothing but her fist inside the middle of my wet wet cunt. I arched my back up and fucked her fist, fucked it as hard as I could while she knelt between my legs and gave it back to me just as hard as I was giving it to her.

“Yeah Daddy,” I sobbed out, “Oh please let me come, please let me come.”

“That’s hot,” I heard someone say from a long distance, and when my head fell to one side I saw booted feet and stiletto shod ones as well. We had an audience, and that made me feel so sexy, so abandoned, and just plain wanton that I wriggled my hips and ground against her hand.

“Come.”

That damn voice, that no-nonsense command. I did as she said, come poured from me, ran out of my hole and down her arm, making her laugh, and the onlookers whisper with envy.

She pulled out slow, my pussy had tightened, and she had to stroke my clit to make me relax so she could get out. But once she did, she lay down on the floor with me and cuddled me close.

When I felt better she got up, walked to the station where supplies were kept and came back with a spray bottle of cleaning solution and paper towels.

“Clean that up,” was all she said, and then she left.

I watched her go as I cleaned my come off the floor. A grin kept crossing my face, and I was whistling while I worked. In two weeks, I would be at another conference, and that made me happy as hell. I love conferences, you never know what might happen.

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