Lisa's Evening

I leaned back contentedly in my little control room, the monitors still on, and let the whole evening play back in my mind. It had gone perfectly.

First, I’d greeted Svenja when she arrived. The girl was so excited, so eager for her “private lap dance” for her fiancé. I quickly took the extra 200 euros from her, adjusted her red mask, and then pushed her through the wrong door with a sweet smile. “Have fun, sweetie!”

The timer showed one hour—but the clock is rigged. Normally it’s only 45 minutes. I’d set it to 1.5 hours on purpose. More time. More fun for Svenja. And more fun for me watching.

Then I took care of Sara.

Why does she have to be such a slut? She was already wet before she even stepped on stage. The plan was actually just for her to dance a little in front of everyone, strike a few poses, turn the guys on a bit. Nothing dramatic.

But because she didn’t want to tip the girls—“There’s nothing to tip, he’s tied up”—the two strippers immediately scrapped their plan. And I let them do it. That was the deal. No money for the girls? Then we’ll destroy you.

Even though Ms. Know-It-All saw right through our little “car show” trick, she apparently didn’t realize she’d just become one of my favorite victims herself. The dumb cow really thought she was just giving her sister’s fiancé a lap dance while Svenja was handling the group over there. But she ended up getting the full brunt of it herself.

The girls are definitely more than satisfied. 30 five-euro bills. That means: 30 men played with Sara’s pussy. 30 strangers’ fingers were inside her, stretching her, fucking her, making her squirt. And then there was the Jerome thing as a bonus. That was my little extra for the two of them. They were as happy as kids in a candy store.

Later, when Sara was lying in the locker room, completely spent, covered in Jerome’s cum that was still dripping out of her pussy, I greeted her with a completely innocent look.

“Oh man, sweetie! I just saw Florian. You really wore him out. He’ll never forget that. And look here—your sister naked with the 10 guys.” I showed her the videos and sent her the links. She was totally confused, but also relieved. For her, the main thing was: Svenja got it. Not her.

She didn’t even take a shower. Just played with Jerome’s cum, fucked herself with it, then just left—with his juice deep inside her. I know it’ll keep running out of her all night. Hopefully she won’t figure me out. But I guess the only thing that mattered to her was that Svenja really got it too. The two sisters had torn each other apart for me without even realizing it.

I grinned at the monitors.

And then there was Florian. I took care of him personally.

I went to him in the small room, where he was already sitting tied up in the chair—hands behind his back, legs spread. The poor guy really thought I was about to give him a hot private lap dance. That’s true, but it was so much more. First, I gave him a really dirty lap dance. Slow, deep, with lots of hip circles. I pressed my tits into his face, ran my hard nipples over his lips. And yeah… I’m not a monster. At some point, I sat down on his lap, pressed my wet, hot pussy right against his rock-hard cock, and slowly rubbed myself back and forth. Just briefly. Just so he could feel how wet and warm I was. He moaned like an animal.

Then I brought him right to the edge. Long. Thoroughly. Until he was trembling and begging. And right at the moment his orgasm was about to break out, I stopped and brutally squeezed his cock with my hand. Ruined it. Completely.

His cum came anyway—just weakly, slowly, pitifully. Thick, warm drops simply oozed from his glans and ran right over my pussy, over my clit, between my labia. I spread it around with relish, smeared my clit with it, and almost came myself, just from the sheer malice of it.

Then I lifted myself up a bit, held my dripping pussy right over his face, and ordered him: “Lick it off, you little fiancé. Your own cum from my pussy. And don’t you dare let a single drop fall.”

He licked. Desperately. With his tongue deep inside me. And I came right then—hard, trembling, out of pure malice. The feeling of him licking his own cum out of my pussy while he was tied up… it was simply divine. But the hour wasn’t over yet. So I sent Marcel in.

Marcel is gay, loves cocks, and has an incredible blowjob mouth. He immediately knelt between Florian’s legs and sucked his cock for almost an entire hour—slowly, deeply, wetly, with lots of tongue and throat. Florian started by ranting, cursing, and struggling—"What the hell, I'm not into guys!"—until Marcel just shoved the gag in his mouth.

Even so, Florian came twice more. Both times right into Marcel's mouth. And I filmed it all. In top quality.

You remember things like that. Florian apparently isn’t into men at all… certainly not when it comes to his cock. That’s very useful information for later.

I’m still grinning as I watch the clip again: how Florian moans with his mouth gagged, how his cock twitches in Marcel’s throat, and how he finally cums after all.

Perfect evening.

All three got what they deserved.

And I’m sitting here, sipping my wine and already thinking about how I can pit the sisters and their fiancé against each other even more effectively next time.