Abandoned Pussy at the Goth-Club

HOW I ABANDONED MY PUSSY AT THE GOTH-CLUB part 05

Luna, a goth girl finds an old note in a second-hand book about pagan witchcraft. It promises the magic separation of individual body parts and in her mind, the idea emerges, that this might be the ultimate solution to get close to her adored idol Damien, the attractive lead singer of the band Astral Cadaver. Other girls might be able to give him roses, stuffed animals, or even panties, but only she can gift him her most precious and intimate sacrifice, her living and sensing vagina.

But fate has a different path in mind and Luna has to make a difficult decision.

LUNA

My hackles are raised, as I stumble through the door. The night is cold and silent, at least compared to the booming music and the many voices in the club. It feels like a different world out here, and I take a deep breath.

A few people are entering a taxi at the street in front of me, and to my left, a group of five goths is gathering to have a smoke. I can’t believe I have become an ashtray. I can’t deal with this humiliation. The smokers are laughing. Not about me, but about some funny story they are sharing.

But inside the Crimson Spiral, I become the funny story, the joke to laugh about. They got onto me, they noticed my vagina is not just a prop, and it is only a matter of time till somebody finds out the truth. What should I do? This is too much for me!

I can’t stay, I can’t be here when they find out. With trembling fingers, I search for my phone in my pocket. The display lights up and I open the Uber app.

I gulp. Fuck, I can’t do that! I can’t just leave my pussy just here like that, just abandon it. I look back to the club. Crimson Spiral, the letters are glowing in bright red. I put the address of my hotel into the destination and confirm. Just 4 minutes and it will be here.

Fuck, Luna! You can’t just chicken out of this situation like that! It’s your god damn pussy!

You need to stay, you can’t leave now. 3 minutes for my ride to arrive.

I cling to my purse. How can I get my pussy out of this horror? They will find out.

2 minutes. I take a seat on the curb and brush over my fishnet legs. How will it be, to live without a pussy? How will I get a boyfriend in the future? How will I explain?

Headlights are approaching, the car slows down, I stand up. A Mexican driver. He asks me through the window. “Are you Luna?”

“Yes.. no… yes.” I have no idea what to say.

He looks confused at me with his bushy eyebrows. “Yes or no? It can’t be both.”

“Yes, I am Luna.” My voice cracks, I open the rear door and nervously enter his Sedan to sit down on the back seat. My fingers tingle and fear is clenching my beating heart. I know I can’t leave now, it’s wrong to leave it behind!

But as I close the door, the driver starts without saying a word, and streetlights are moving past the window. Luna! Don’t be that stupid! You can’t leave your pussy behind! It’s wrong!

I grab the seatbelt and pull it over my body to fasten it. The sedan slows down to stop at a red traffic light. Now or never! I release the belt and let it snap back to the side of the seat. “Sorry, I have to go!”

“What?” The Mexican watches over his shoulder at me.

I yank open the door. Another car honks, as the light turns green. I’m jumping off. “Sorry, I left something essential behind. I need to get back to the club.”

“Oh, girl! Why are you calling a ride then?” The driver isn’t happy.

I want to cry, but I need to stay strong. I abort the ride, then I run back. Fast and wide steps with my heavy buckled boots, although I wear a tight corset, my big tits are bouncing like crazy. I need to do the right thing. I need to get back what’s mine and like that, I reenter the crowded Crimson Spiral.

My pussy gets washed up with warm water and soap by that strangers’ hands again. Someone is fiddling around with it, eagerly toying with my sensitive piercing and my long labia, plucking recklessly on my aroused little cherry. But I need to stop at another place first, otherwise, I will become crazy.

“One vodka.” I put the money on the counter. It’s so bizarre, that I can’t do anything against that unwanted hypersexual sensation on my genitals and I need to have a lot of self-control not to move weirdly or moan.

Without a comment, Pete puts the shot in front of me. I drink it. It burns in my throat. He knows it’s a rough night. Time to enter the combat zone.

Only a few guys at the urinals and one washing his hands at the sinks at the men’s restrooms. But no trace of my vagina, which is still getting washed. So I shift over to the Ladies’ ones. A small crowd of girls has gathered in front of the mirrors by the two sinks. On the left side, they try to share the place to apply makeup and wash their hands after a stop at the toilets, but at the sink on the right, three punks are chuckling, while stretching and kneading my pussy under the rushing water.

I approach them with the most accusatory and serious voice my throat allows me to come up with. “Hey, what the hell do you think you are doing there?”

“Mind your own fucking business” one of them turns to me and gestured for me to leave.

Fuck, this makes me undeliberately horny. I can’t let them play with my pussy like that.

“Stop perverting around with it, it’s yucky! Despite this, you are blocking the sink with your filthy show.” I try to make them stop without giving away my true intentions.

Another girl waiting in the second row agrees with me. “Yeah, I need to wash my hands.”

“Me too! Please!” I get even more support. Awesome!

The three punk girls stop to evaluate the situation. Thank god, it seems they have noticed how off-place their performance has been. Hopefully, I get my pussy back now.

They make way, I get closer and try to grab myself from them. But as they pull it away, I just end up slapping myself on my genitals. “Hey!”

“Hit the bricks, Tit-Zilla. It’s our turn now, so pull a number and sit down.” She holds it away from me. I could burst open right here! They can’t deny me my own pussy like that. It doesn’t have turns, it’s mine. As if it were a fairground ride I had to wait in line for. It’s mine, my most intimate private bits, and I have no intention to share it with them. They need to give it back to me right now.

A girl dressed in perfect black leaves one of the toilet stalls and buckles her studded belt. The punks take this as an opportunity to invade the open door and turn the lock. Engaged.

That must be a bad joke, they are straight-up bullying me. I need to be decisive this time to truly get it back. I knock at the door. “Hey, open up!”

“Go home! You have no business here!” One of them shouts. I look at the stalls to the left and right, but they are both occupied. Shit!

The punks are carefreely tinkering with my private parts, pulling on my clitoris and twisting it hard. I clench my teeth, squeeze my legs together, and desperately move my hips. As the door to the left opens, I rush into the stall and lock the door behind me.

Amused giggling on the other side of the divider. They stretch my poor little cherry and let it snap like rubber. “Hahaha, that funny cunt is getting really wet!”

“I told you, it’s magical. It must be alive somehow.”

“I have never seen something so weird in my life! Look, how it noms on my fingers.” Two female fingers are unscrupulously invading my private hole. I have to cling to the pipe at the wall so as not to fall over, my legs are shaking so much. I press one hand on my mouth to muffle my moans.

“Hey, what do you think about adding this little toy?” One of the girls asks cheekily.

Her friends giggle. “Haha, isn’t that dirty?”

“No, that’s no problem. I will clean it up before using it again next time.” A monotone electric humming sounds from the other side. A vibrator, and a fucking strong one as well. They hold it against my quivering clit. I tremble and slide down the pipe till I sit on the toilet, breathing heavily, fighting with myself not to moan and to keep traitorous noises to a minimum. Please no! I don’t want to get an orgasm like that. It’s shady and slutty, I’m not like that. Fuck those three atrocious bitches, I will not come like that!

They enjoy their power. “Holy shit, look how fucking wet this cunt gets, it not just drips, it overflows.”

“Wow, that’s wicked!” One of them marvels.

My breath and heart rate accelerates. Please no, stop it now, I can’t take it any longer.

“That beast is hungry. Let’s feed it!” And just like that, they shove the vibrator into my intimate opening, penetrating my body.

“Where did it go?”

“Fuck, that’s freaky, how can your vibrator disappear into it like that?”

“I don’t know, almost like a portal into another dimension. So weird.”

They shove it deep into me, pull it back, and push it in again and again.

My vision blurs, my pussy gets out of control. It feels like it has a life of its own, an otherworldly powerful being, so much stronger than I am. I can only cling to the pipe, as I can feel the hurricane approaching. My whole body spasms, as the force of the orgasm rolls over me. I hear it splashing next door.

“Holy fuck! It squirts.” A girl shouts.

“That is a lot of juice. What is that thing?”

“I have no idea, but it’s fun!” they don’t stop. They don’t give me a moment to breathe, and just continue. Another sudden orgasm assaults me like blitzkrieg tactics. A whole army falling into the open unguarded gate that is supposed to be my vagina. I capitulate.

“That is unbelievable.”

They need to stop. Please! They need to stop right now, they need to pull it out and leave it in peace. I can’t take this anymore. My pussy, my clitoris gets sour. It feels like a switch has turned and alarm sirens are whaling in my head. That is a serious case of overstimulation. A full sensory overload that lets the capacity of my brain just overflow.

Every move, every thought needs so much more energy now, It’s as if I am paralyzed. That is torture, flat-out evil torture. Fuck my heart rate, that booms like a railgun. That’s it, I will be the first girl dying from orgasms.

I am completely out of breath and unable to move, when they finally stop. How long did they torture me? Their giggling sounds so far and alien, everything is turning, like the room is moving. Can I sense the motion of the rotating earth now? Shit, I am so done.

AIDEN

I interrupt my search for a quick stop at the restrooms. While I empty my bladder into one of the urinals, I spot Luna out of the corner of my eye. What is she doing in the men’s rooms? But as sudden as she appeared, she is gone already. I close my zipper and wash my hands. She must be searching for her vagina as well of course. I need to be faster than her, if she gets it back before me, I will have no chance of proving Miss Tery’s theory.

Maybe she senses something I can’t sense?

I leave the men’s rooms and wait in front of the Lady’s ones. She might be in there, but as a man, I can’t enter this place. While she can enter the men’s rooms at any time. That’s probably what Vivienne would call gender equality.

Then the door opens for a few seconds, I peek inside and spot Luna banging onto one of the stall doors, somewhat dancing awkwardly with her legs pushed together as if she had to pee very urgently. That’s odd. If Luna lost her vagina, how can she take a piss?

Why is she doing that? Has Miss Tery’s hypothesis just been disproved already? This strange case becomes hazier and hazier. I need to find the vagina to find out the truth, I just need to know what’s going on. Luna will come out eventually, so I wait.

Girls go in, girls go out. Goths girls, rockabilly chicks, and three giggling Punk girls. But no trace of Luna. What is she doing in there? This is taking forever.

Finally, she comes out after what I would call an eternity. She looks like it has been a rough night for her. I have no idea if her mood has something to do with the ownerless vagina, or if this is all just an obscure coincidence.

I stop her. “Hey, Luna?”

“What? What do you want from me?” She is pissed.

I’m not sure how I should ask her. I probably can’t confront her openly, so I ask her more subtly and hope she will blab. “You look a bit stressed. What is going on with you?”

“Are you trying to get on my nerves? I don’t have time for your stupid questions. Leave me alone, fucking moron.” She snaps and continues her way. Okay, that was tough.

I go back to the others. Michael and Vivienne approach me to get a hug. “Thank you for coming. It was a great evening.”

“You are leaving?” I ask.

Michael nods. “Yeah, it’s still quite a trip. And I don’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Okay, I get that. Get home safely!”

“Thanks, you too. Don’t drive intoxicated.” Vivienne smiles.

I smile back. “Of course not. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

When they are gone, Miss Tery asks me about the situation. “So? Did you get it?”

“No, not yet. To be honest. I have no idea where it is. But if your conclusion was right, Luna doesn’t have her vagina either yet.”

“How do you know?” She looks at me.

I glance around and speak quietly into her ear. “She was extremely tense, that girl is a nervous wreck. It might be because she is still on the hunt and stressed out.”

“Good observation, it fits the theory. We need to get the vagina before her, if we want to confirm the truth.”

“Yeah, but there is something else, and that speaks highly against it.” I take a breath of air.

She frowns in confusion. “What is it?”

“I saw Luna in the lady’s restroom, waiting fidgety in front of one of the stalls as if she had to pee very urgently.”

“What? That can’t be true.”

“Yes, I know. But that’s what I saw. Something doesn’t add up. But you are Miss Holmes here, maybe you can make something out of it.” I tell her.

she scratches her chin. “I have no idea, to be honest. That just doesn’t fit the profile.”

“I know, that’s why I found it very confusing as well.” I look puzzled at her.

She takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine, I will think about it. Maybe I can come up with an explanation. You go and find the haunted vagina. If we have it, finding the truth will become way easier.”

“Will do!” I leave our corner and search again. It must be somewhere. Maybe those punk girls still have it. Haven’t I seen them leaving the restrooms a few minutes earlier?

LUNA

“You look a bit stressed. What is going on with you?” That Metaltroll is wasting my time.

The agony in my genitals makes it impossible to stay calm. “Are you trying to get on my nerves? I don’t have time for your stupid questions. Leave me alone, fucking moron.”

On trembling legs I sway into the main room, where are those punks who torment my pussy? They don’t give me a single minute of rest, my clitoris feels sour and badly overstimulated. Every touch hurts and lets me shiver to the bones. It needs a moment of rest to normalize again, but these sadists can’t stop tweezing and pulling it.

I spot them, sitting around a table in the back behind the dancefloor.

I awkwardly dance myself through the patrons, to get to the other side, but get approached by a guy in black, blocking my way, smiling at me, and stroking my shoulder. “Hey Sweetheart, I like your style.”

“Fuck off!” are those men stupid? What do they want from me? I don’t even have a pussy they could screw anymore. I don’t have the nerves to deal with those idiots.

I stumble off the dancefloor. The punk girls are nonchalantly toying around with my genitals, playing with it like it is the most entertaining toy ever. “You again?”

I take a deep breath and get into the most upright and confident pose I can accomplish in my situation and hold out my open palm in demand. “Yes, me again. You had this thing for long enough. Now it’s my turn.”

“That thing you mean?” She smirks and dangles it mockingly in front of me. It still drips. Fuck, my bare pussy is so sensitive now after that forced orgasm.

I haste forward and try to rip it out of her hand, but she pulls it away too fast for me.

“Give it to me!” I insist and halfway climb over her to reach her hand. I can’t believe I have to brawl for my own cunt.

“Catch it then!” She flops it clumsily over to her friend, as I obstruct her movements so far that she can’t even throw it properly.

It knocks over the grave-light on the table, the candle extinguishes and hot wax sprays all over my pubic region. I reach over, but one of her friends catches faster. “You want this?”

I rush around the table to get it back, but she hurls it over my head to the third punk girl, who is prepared to catch it this time. Wet drops are raining down on me, trickling on my face. As I stick my tongue out, I can taste my own juice on my lips. But what’s worse is that sensation of absolute exposure. The air dragging on my flying vagina, the strange hands catching it. Although I am dressed, I feel so naked and vulnerable.

“Haha, why do you even want that thing so urgently?” The girl with my pussy asks.

Another one speaks out about a presumption that lets me freeze. “Maybe it’s hers.”

“Hahahaha, imagine how stupid it would be, if you really could lose your cunt like that.”

They are heavily laughing about what they consider a ridiculous fantasy, but for me, it has become a bitter reality. I can’t continue like that. Other guests are staring as well already.

If I continue hunting for my pussy like that, they will see how desperate I am to get it, and they will notice that there is way more behind their stupid joke, than they could believe now.

To even top this nightmare, I even couldn’t get it back like that, they would just throw it over my head all over again, until I’m exhausted, and my movements are already so clumsy and wonky, because my tortured clitoris hurts like it’s a nuclear super-hazard.

I suck it up and lurch back onto the dance floor to dance myself into inconspicuousness.

I can only hope they will lose interest in it soon, giving me another chance to get it back.

My interference brings them the inspiration for a new wicked game, they are spreading up and increasing the distances, and now they are happily playing catch with my pussy. In the midst of other patrons sitting around and chatting. The others don’t really seem to mind them. A man gets hit on the shoulder, he just picks my pussy up and passes it in an arch back to the punks. That is so wrong and unfair.

I stare in utter disbelief, while performing the most awkward dance of my life. Is this still reality? This can’t be real, my vagina can’t be abused like that in full public. But why does it feel so real then? Fuck, I can sense every hurl, every throw, and every catch in my twitching and prickling ladybits. So perverted!

Suddenly it flies over and lands on the dancefloor, just close to me. That’s my chance!

I bent down to pick it up, as a clumsy hippy bitch with vividly colored clothes dances backward and bumps into me. She makes a swerve sideways in reflex and I cramp in agony, as she steps directly on my exposed pussy with her bare dirty feet. “Ouch!”

“Oh sorry, did I hit you? Yuck, I stepped on something.” She picks it up and mindlessly throws it back to the punks while I helplessly wince in pain.

She apologizes without knowing what she even did. “Sorry, where did I hit you?”

“It’s okay.” I hiss grudgingly and gasp for air. Why doesn’t she even wear shoes? Stupid bitch! I mobilize my inner energy to stand up and frown at the punks, they are looking around to get my throbbing pussy again, as they want to continue their wicked game. No chance for me to get it before them.

“Hey girl, is everything alright with you?” Someone strikes over my back.

I turn around to send this fucker to hell, but my eyes widen, when I stare into a very familiar face. “Damien?”

“Yes, and what’s your name?” He smiles at me and touches my shoulder. My heart booms, my legs get soft like melting butter, and my whole body tingles. I want to answer, but my mouth is so dry that I can only shyly whisper. “I’m Luna.”