Sara backstage

I had just arrived when Lisa greeted me with a beaming smile. She led me straight into a small, separate room—not the one where Svenja was. The two sisters didn’t see each other. Not a glance, not a hello, nothing. Perfect.

Lisa closed the door behind us and grinned at me. “Heyyy Sara! Ready for a private lap dance with your sister’s fiancé? The poor guy is already totally horny and tied up—just like you wanted. While you’re showing him your pussy here and really teasing him, your sister Svenja is getting pounded and ravaged by his whole bachelor party crew. That’s totally your thing, isn’t it?”

Just the thought of it made me wet all over again. My own sister was currently being abused by ten horny, drunk guys as a cheap wedding slut—and I got to give her fiancé a really kinky, private lap dance. The contrast turned me on so much that my nipples immediately hardened and my smooth-shaven pussy started dripping.

Then the two strippers came in. Both looked like pros—tight outfits, confident grins. Lisa handed me over to them.

“These two will help you with the performance, Sara. They know what they’re doing and will make sure everything goes perfectly.” Lisa winked at me and then continued in a casual tone: “Oh, by the way, the girls usually get a little tip from the girls who work here. Just as a small token of appreciation.”

I was sassy and full of anticipation. Raising my eyebrows, I replied, “There’s nothing to give. He’s tied up, after all. He can’t give anything. And I’m only here for him—not for you.”

The two strippers smiled politely, but I saw exactly how their eyes flashed briefly. They were angry. Really angry. But they didn’t let on. Instead, they just nodded friendly.

“No problem,” one of them said in a sugary-sweet voice. “We’ll get our money. In other ways.”

I didn’t realize that she and Lisa had already worked out a plan long ago. A really nasty plan.

The two strippers took me by the left and right arms, hooked their arms under mine, and slowly led me to the door.

“Let’s go, sweetie,” the other one cooed. “Your private lap dance is waiting.”

I was now standing right in front of the door—naked except for the red mask, dripping with lust and full of anticipation at the thought of pressing my tits into my sister’s fiancé’s face while Svenja was getting fucked by his whole group. Lisa asked how far I should go. This far.

Suddenly, the two strippers shoved me roughly through the door—straight onto the large, brightly lit main stage. Hundreds of horny eyes were staring at me. Hundreds of men. No small private room. No fiancé of my sister. Just a huge hall full of drunk, roaring men who were already waiting impatiently.

My heart stopped. Panic exploded inside me like a gunshot. I wanted to go back immediately, wanted to scream, wanted to flee—but the two strippers held me brutally by the arms.

“Dance properly, you stupid cow,” one of them hissed quietly, but loud enough for the front rows to hear.

“Last time, the guys dragged the stripper off the stage and took turns fucking her. Security couldn’t do a thing. Is that what you want too?”

I felt an icy chill. Under the red mask, I turned pale as a sheet. My gaze darted desperately toward the door and the big timer above it: **59 minutes**. No escape.

And then… it happened.

I started dancing. With the mask on, but now really sexy—hips swaying, tits jiggling, ass sticking out. My body just wouldn’t listen to my head anymore. The two experienced strippers immediately joined in. They slowly and provocatively pulled my vinyl bodysuit off, piece by piece. First the top—my heavy, pale tits sprang free, the nipples already stiff and dark. Then the panties. Suddenly I was standing completely naked on the bright stage. Smoothly shaved pussy, tight pink ass, everything visible to hundreds of men.

The men hooted and whistled. Shame burned in my face—but my pussy got even wetter.

The two strippers positioned me mercilessly. They pushed me down on all fours, lifted my ass high, and pulled my ass cheeks wide apart with both hands. My pussy gaped open, my asshole twitching right in front of the faces in the front row. I felt the cold air on my open holes. Then they led me slowly to the edge of the stage. The men stood so close that I could feel their hot breath on my skin. My dripping pussy was just inches from their faces.

Hands shot forward. Bills were stuffed into my garter—and at the same time, thick fingers into my pussy and my asshole. Over and over. Whoever gave money was allowed to finger me. Three, four fingers at once were in my wet slit, twisting, fucking me hard. Another shoved two fingers deep into my asshole and stretched it.

I moaned loudly. My body betrayed me completely. My legs trembled uncontrollably. I was getting wetter and wetter, hornier and hornier. Thick, glistening strands of lust ran down my thighs while the strangers’ fingers used me without pause. The shame was immense—but the lust was stronger. The thought of Svenja, who was being taken just like this by a whole group right now, drove me crazy. I was the sister here who was supposed to just dance… and instead was being publicly fingered like a cheap whore.

The two strippers laughed and held me down—ass up, cheeks spread, pussy and asshole open for anyone who paid.

The climax came when two men pushed forward at the same time. Four fingers were now fucking my pussy, two more were buried deep in my ass. I screamed. My whole body twitched uncontrollably. I came—hard, in public, in front of hundreds of men. My pussy squirted like crazy, the juices splashing onto their hands and onto the stage. My legs almost gave way, my asshole clenched spasmodically around the fingers. I heard myself moaning and whimpering loudly as my body just kept coming, even though my head was nearly bursting with shame.

The men were going wild with excitement.

I knelt trembling on all fours, my pussy and asshole wide stretched and dripping wet, while the two strippers kept me in position—ready for the next round of money and fingers.

**38 minutes left.**

I was still completely spent, kneeling on all fours, trembling, my pussy and asshole open and glistening wet from all the fingers, when suddenly the music got louder and the host stepped up to the mic with a dirty grin.

“And now, you horny bastards—the absolute highlight of the evening!”

The crowd roared. Spotlights came on, red and white light flooding the stage.

“This little masked slut here is already nice and warm for you… but now comes the main course! A real black stud is going to fuck her hard and deep right here on stage—bareback! And yes, you heard right: He’s going to shoot his load right into her wet, fertile pussy! Photos and videos are expressly allowed—the mask stays on!”

The crowd exploded with excitement. Cell phones were pulled out, flashes went off.

And right at that moment, he came on stage.

Jerome.

The moment he stepped onto the stage, the realization hit me like a punch. I knew him. I knew him way too well.

I had met him at a private photo shoot. We had actually only wanted to take one photo… but things had turned out differently. I remembered exactly how his huge, thick black cock had felt inside me. How he had slowly stretched me back then, how he had filled me to the hilt, how he had fucked me deep. I remembered every detail: the thick veins, the heat, the feeling when he was buried deep inside me and his balls slapped against my clit. I’d felt his cum inside me for days afterward. And now he was standing in front of me again. Naked. With that exact monstrous cock, already hanging semi-erect between his legs.

Jerome stepped behind me. He roughly grabbed my hips, lifted my ass up, and pulled my ass cheeks wide apart with one hand. Hundreds of cell phone cameras zoomed right in on my dripping, open pussy. I felt the cold air on my hole. Then he pressed the thick, burning-hot head of his huge black cock against my slit.

My labia stretched just from its size—and suddenly it was all back. I knew that feeling. I knew it all too well. I let out a quiet scream, my whole body tensing like a string.

And then he thrust.

With a hard, merciless thrust, he rammed his entire thick black cock all the way into my tight, wet pussy. I screamed loudly—a high-pitched, helpless scream that echoed through the entire hall. My tits jiggled wildly, my body arched. He immediately fucked me hard and deep, each thrust slapping loudly against my ass. Thick, slippery strands of cum spurted from my pussy every time he pulled out and splattered onto the stage.

The men went wild. Cell phones were filming from all sides, flashes going off nonstop.

Jerome fucked me mercilessly—deep, fast, brutal. My ass jiggled with every impact of his hips, my tits slapping loudly against each other. I moaned and whimpered uncontrollably, my legs trembling so badly that I could barely stay on all fours. The huge black cock filled me completely—just like back then during the shoot. My body betrayed me completely. I was getting wetter and wetter, my pussy greedily clenching around him, my clit throbbing with every thrust. The shame was overwhelming—I was the sister who was supposed to be just dancing, and now I was getting fucked like a cheap wedding whore in front of hundreds of men, by the very man who had taken me so hard before. The thought of Svenja, who was going through exactly the same thing right now, turned me on so much that I almost came again.

After a few minutes, Jerome got even faster. His heavy balls slapped hard against my clit. He roared, grabbed my hips even tighter, and rammed himself all the way into me one last time.

Then he came.

I felt his huge cock twitching and pulsing inside me—and then he shot it all right into my pussy. Hot, thick, endless. Just like back then. My body convulsed; I came with him, my pussy milking him dry while he pumped me full.

I was still on all fours, ass high in the air, as Jerome slowly pulled his huge cock out of me. Immediately, a thick, white stream of his cum oozed out of my pussy—thick, sticky clumps ran in long strands over my swollen, red labia, dripped from my clit, and slapped loudly against the stage. My pussy gaped wide open, a big, red, used hole from which cream flowed incessantly and ran down my pale thighs. I felt every single trickle. Someone else’s cum. Deep inside me. From Jerome. Again.

The crowd went completely wild.

Two minutes before the end, the two strippers came back on stage. They laughed loudly and lewdly, bent down, and greedily scooped up all the tips. They ripped the bills out of my garter, gathered everything scattered on the stage, and stuffed it into their own bras and panties. I didn’t get a single euro.

“We’re keeping the rest, you stupid cow,” one of them hissed loud enough for the front rows to hear. “You were just the warm-up anyway.”

Then they turned around and simply walked off the stage without giving me a second glance. They just left me there—naked, trembling, covered in cum that pooled into a small white lake beneath me on the stage.

The red door to the dressing room suddenly swung open.

I looked over in panic. My legs were shaking so badly that I couldn’t get up. Instead, I started crawling. On all fours. Like a cheap bitch. My ass wiggled with every step, my heavy tits hung low and swung heavily back and forth. With every crawl, even more thick cum dripped from my wide-open cunt, trailing long white strings behind me and leaving a wet, shiny trail on the stage floor.

The men roared with laughter and lust. Cell phones filmed every second: how my dripping cunt smacked with every crawl, how my asshole still twitched, how the white strands of cum dangled from my thighs and slapped against the floor. I crawled slowly, exhausted, deeply humiliated, my gaze fixed on the open door, while hundreds of eyes watched me crawl off the stage like a used cum slut.

Just before the door, I paused once more. On all fours. Ass up. As if I wanted to show everyone my cum-drenched, gaping cunt one last time.

Then I finally crawled into the dressing room and disappeared.

The door slammed shut behind me.

The crowd continued to go wild. The show was over—but the cum on the stage and the memory of the crawling, dripping masked slut would remain.

I’m lying here now in the dressing room, trembling, covered in cum, with Jerome’s cum still running out of me—and I know exactly how it feels because I’ve felt it before.

The door slammed shut behind me. I was still on all fours on the cold floor of the dressing room, breathing heavily, my ass high in the air, while thick, white cum continued to drip from my wide-open cunt. Jerome’s load. I felt every single warm glob slowly oozing out of me and splattering onto the floor. My legs were still shaking, my tits hung heavy and swayed with every breath.

Suddenly I heard heels. Lisa came in, beaming as always, as if I’d just had a nice cup of coffee.

“Oh man, baby!” she exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands. “I just saw Florian. You really wore him out! The poor guy was totally wiped out, could barely walk. He’ll never forget that, I swear!”

She laughed cheerfully and held her phone right up to my face.

“And look here—your sister! Naked with those ten guys. They really gave Svenja a rough time. Want the links? I’ll send them over right away, then you can look at them again later at your leisure.”

I stared at the screen. There was Svenja. Completely naked, masked, on all fours, while one after another took turns with her. I was totally confused. My head was spinning. Florian… my sister’s fiancé… had I just torn him apart? I was only supposed to give him a private lap dance… and now Lisa’s telling me I tore him apart so badly he could barely stand? And at the same time, Svenja had gotten this—ten cocks, ten loads, publicly on stage?

At least Svenja had gotten it. That was the main thing. The thought suddenly turned me on again. My sister was the one who’d just been abused by the whole group as a cheap wedding slut. Not me. I’d only had Florian. Just him.

I nodded weakly. Lisa sent me the links and winked. “Have fun watching, sweetie. You look like you had a lot of fun, too.”

She disappeared again.

I was left alone. Naked. Covered in cum. And suddenly, I couldn’t help myself.

My hand slid between my legs. I plunged two fingers into my gaping pussy and pulled out Jerome’s thick, warm cum. There was so much of it. So sticky. I spread it slowly over my swollen clit, rubbed it in circles, pushed it deep inside me again. Three fingers. Four. I fucked myself, hard and fast, while I thought of Florian—how he’d twitched beneath me, how I’d ruined him. And of Svenja, who’d just been fucked by ten cocks.

I came again. Loudly. Shaking. My pussy clenched spasmodically and squeezed even more of Jerome’s cum out. It ran down my thighs in thick strands, dripping onto the floor.

I didn’t want to shower. I just wanted to get out of there.

With wobbly legs, I quickly threw something on, the red mask still on my face. Jerome’s cum stayed inside me. It kept leaking out of me all night—warm, sticky, foreign—with every step, in every taxi, all the way home. Every time I pressed my legs together, I could feel it. And every time, I got wet again.

I was confused. Horny. And relieved.

At least it had happened to Svenja.

I’m lying in bed at home now, my legs slightly spread, Jerome’s cum still slowly dripping out of me.