The music blared all around as I walk through the crowd. The night club was dark. Only a red glow shown throughout the club. My blood was pulsing with extra electric bolts tonight. The techno music adding to the excitement. I felt like I was on a high, but I hardly had enough to drink tonight. I don’t even touch that other stuff. Yet, there was an achiness there as I weave through the crowd. My veins started to ack for something. I felt the signs of insanity coming. That over restlessness that I can only call insanity. That space in time where there’s a need that I can’t fill.

My unknown needs become to much for the music to fill. In fact, I think I realized before that it was making it worst. So I start to make my way to the exit and I see a guy I was dancing with earlier. Our eyes locked and he comes over to me. I sway in place allowing him to come to me. He whispers in my ear, to ask if I want to do it with him. I normally would be maddened by suck an outward proposal, but I go with him; which is strange for me. The entrance to the rooms for this are just in front of us. We walk in and head for the stairs, the upper rooms are what we want, the bottom ones are mostly for making out. While I quickly remember this I found that I am extremely calm, overly aware of everything, and...numb almost.

As I’m thinking about this he leads me into an empty room. Immediatly he crushes his lips to mine and starts to grope me. Grope me! I’m still numb but I know I should push him away. That I should be pissed that he’s acting like I’m some hooker. Now he’s taking off my blouse, pulling it over my head and starts to squeeze my breast again. He’s pulling down my bra straps and releases my breast. He then starts to pinch and suck on my tits. As he’s doing this he’s unbuttoning my jeans. I realize that I’m holding his head to me and, I quickly take control. I push him hard onto the bed, I slip my feet out of my boots and take my underwear off with my half way down jeans. I quickly take his shirt and pants off. When I’m done I move away from him to get a better look at his lean muscled form. He quickly sits up and sticks his fingers into my unusually dry pussy. Pushing in and out of me. Gripping my ass and sucking on my tits. I quickly became soaked. When he thinks I’m ready, or when he’s done playing, I’m not sure what his hormonal mind is thinking, he leans back and sticks his dick into me. I’ve had longer, but that thought goes away as he pounds into me. He’s pounding me, pushing me off him and down into him each time a little harder and faster. The bed is making loud squeaking noises and I fleetly wonder if we will brake it. I lean on top of him, losing my balance at his speed of fucking.

It is in this position that I see the scissor on the table by the bed. I get up again, gripping his chest as he’s still pounding into me, and I glance around. I realize this is a bondage room. Who know what you need scissors for. Maybe cut the blind folds off. Someone might have not been able to get their knot out. I remember hearing something like that happening before. I think this as if I’m torn in two. I’m rationalizing why you need scissors in a room while I’m moaning on top of him. But I lose those other thoughts as he starts to push up into me harder.

His hands are gripping into me too hard. I want him out of me now, I think I’m starting to get out of my daze. I feel hate for him. I hate him, this pig that so openly asked to fuck me; which was insulting enough but now he is hurting me too. He’s treating me like a whore, a whore that he wants to fuck him senseless. Well now this “whore” knows why she came up here with him. I came up here to fuck him to death. I came up here to give this hole in existence the fuck of his life.

I lean over and pretending a moan I grab the scissors. I lean up, pulling my arms over my head, I plunge the scissors down into him. It feels weird, but I continue to pull up and plunge down into him. Ignoring his screams. I’m still on top of him, and I can feel him twitching inside of me. I continue to stab the bloody scissors into him not worrying about the noise that we’re both making because, nobody will come. That’s what these room are for, for people to scream in.

I keep on with my assault even after I notice that he has stopped moving. I’m mesmerized by his inside, the blood, the whole experience of it. Time isn’t an issue, it hardly even exists right now. When I do stop I immediatly get off of him. I’m hit with a sudden rush of dread and I panic. I use his cloths to get some of the blood off and, then put my cloths back on. Thankfully I wore a red top tonight, maybe no one will take notice of me. I’m paranoid, and scared, but force myself to calm down. It’s hard no to run, but still I force myself not to rush to the safety of my car.

I pass by laughing couples. People with black cloths. And then some girls and ...guys, I think, in colorful cloths; they look like they could belong to the curcus. I’m at my car and go to pull out my keys, when I see that I still got the scissors in my hands. Good, at least they wont have the weapon. But now, frightened, I think about what I did leave behind: my prints, my cum, my DNA. Shit! I’m really scared now. I put the scissors in my pocket and get into the car. I pull out and leave as quickly as I can, careful not to run anybody over though. Wouldn’t do to draw any attention to myself.

When I get home I clean my self off and wash my cloths. I can’t burn them, I live in an apartment so my neighbors will smell it. I’ll forget about the cloths for tonight. I just want some sleep now. I’m really tired and when I’m getting into bed I remember I need to put some pajamas on. When I finally get under the covers, I can’t help to think about that emptiness being gone, right before I go to sleep.