All the way

The prop gun slid up and down Waverly’s exposed pussy lips, each second making her bite back sobs. This couldn’t be happening.

She teased herself, felt the whole strip club hold its breath-

She would have breathed a sigh of relief if she could as the gun trailed up again, phallic shape brushing past her boobs, toying with each.

She tried not to think about how it looked, what all the men would be imagining. Her eyes went wide as the gun went higher, to her mouth again.

She rocked to the music, leaning her head forwards; she slid down the pole, one hand on it all the while, until she was crouching. And in the same motion she wrapped her lips around the shaft of the prop, and pushed it up as she slid down, deepthroating the toy.

Waverly whimpered. Her self-control didn’t extend much past that, her best efforts only eliciting sobs, choked whimpers, while she couldn’t stop the demon from humiliating her.

She’d given blowjobs before, back when she thought she was straight, more as a way to get out of sex than anything. She’d never taken this much down her throat though, and never where people could see.

Silently Waverly pleaded for it to stop, as her head bobbed up and down to the beat of the music.

And then the toy gun was pulled out, and she longed to be sucking it again as once more it trailed down, and this time Waverly doubted it was just teasing.

Waverly rocked back, kicking her feet out so that she was sat down, legs spread wide apart. All eyes were on her, on the prop, and on her pussy, legs spread apart and displaying it fully.

Tears welled in her eyes, sheer shame overwhelming her, but no one was looking at her face. She’d have much preferred them to see her cry than see her…

The rounded tip of the gun pressed against her pussy lips, and then pushed harder, parting them. Waverly gave a fake, downright pornographic moan as she pushed into it, whimpering.

Sure, she masturbated. This was nothing new to her, even with a toy, but not with people watching. Oh god, people watching.

She angled the gun, shifting her hand to make sure there was no doubt that it was inside her.

The crowd cheered, the gun twitched, and Waverly gave a moan that was far less fake. She shifted, her free hand going to her wide-brimmed cowgirl hat and pushed it back, angling it so it didn’t hide her face.

So even that was on display. No one would be forgetting that quiet, reserved Waverly Earp was fucking herself for them, that she was moaning, crying out, debasing herself utterly.

She wanted to cry. She was sure she would have if she’d had the slightest bit more control; instead her hand moved faster, the gun quickening, sliding in and out of her wet cunt.

“Oh god!” Waverly shouted.

That one her, she was sure, one of her ignored pleas for mercy. When it was all she said though, she knew how the crowd would interpret it.

She burned with humiliation, hating how her body reacted, how it moved back against the toy, how it gave every indication this was the best moment of her life, when it could quite possibly be the worst.

Waverly came with a loud cry, and a whimpered sob, dozens of strange men watching her shake and partake of her private ecstasy, bucking against the prop as the final thrums of the song played.

Then, quickly, she withdrew the prop. In the last seconds of the song she grinned at the rapt crowd, looking like she was relishing this rather than being on the verge of tears, ran her tongue up the shaft to taste her own pussy juices, and blew over the tip as though she’d fired the gun.

A wink, and the crowd cheered.

Could she get off the stage now? Please, more than anything, she wanted to be off stage, away from all those eyes, all this exposure and degradation. She couldn’t take much more.