The Longest Forty-Three Minutes {darkest_fate&Google}

And Selena had thought that her outfit would look silly. The red leather and transparent white nylon outfit had looked great when she'd done her performance and all, but it definitely wasn't the sort of thing she wanted to wear when out clubbing, and certainly not with the heeled boots to balance. But compared to what several of the people in Purgatory wore, it was downright tame. Selena lost count of how many flashes of body she saw peeking out through leather, vinyl, and who knows what else. Just in the few minutes she'd been in the club, she'd seen at least three sets of breasts, one dick that appeared to be wrapped in a zippered pouch, and no less then a dozen bared asses, often in chaps. The sight had already been burned into her virginal mind, likely never to leave.

But she'd agreed to this, though she now sorely regretted it. Selena already promised herself to never, ever make a bet like this ever again. Her dancer must have had some inside information or something. Plus, Selena hadn't figured that this club would be... like this, like she'd entered the pages of 50 Shades of Grey only with about ten times as many doms. The outfit did hug Selena's slender form well, encasing the girl's petite breasts and making her rounded ass look scrumptious. Selena's curves had only recently started to fully develop, but now there was no denying the smooth contours of her sexy body. Nor could one overlook her pretty face, especially with the light makeup enhancing her pretty dark eyes and her nearly cherubic expression. Dark, almost maroon lipstick dotted her lips, but otherwise, she'd put on only the usual. Without a team, she couldn't quite match the hair she'd worn for the show, but she'd managed to draw it up and let it fall in curly waves along her slender shoulders.

People recognized her. She knew they did, though no one had said anything. Well, nearly no one: a guy who looked about ready to bust out of his leather had asked if she was a Selena Gomez impersonating and if she'd touch his dick for fifty dollars. Selena had then sprinted away.

Her eventual journeying had taken her to a surprisingly empty back booth. Selena didn't question her luck, sliding in and adjusting as best she could. She'd tucked an ID and some money away in the outfit, not wanting to carry a purse all night, though now she was regretting it. She dared dick her slender phone out of a side holster, frowning at the time. The dare had insisted at least an hour, and it had only been seventeen minutes. Selena groaned and placed her head in her hands, pretending like she didn't hear the sounds of pulse-pounding music or people moaning in pain, pleasure, and God only knew what else. Her imagination provided quite the pretty picture, but she still preferred just keeping her head down and fighting off the night.

She only needed to last forty three more minutes, after all.

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Some men would arrange for some entertainment when they went to a place like Purgetory, perhaps the most popular and most exclusive bdsm club in the country. You didn't want to leave a place like that alone of course, there was only one sort of thing you could have on you mind as you walked out the doors and to handle the urges on your own just wasn't much fun at all.

But Vincent LeMarcand was not most men and on that night he had felt the desire to go to Purgetory without any plans in advance. This was something he did frequently, it was a good way to find some hot new flesh for the films that he produced and starred in, a good way to find something fun to play with. He had arrived a little while after the club opened, a bit of a problem with his computer causing a delay in the release of his latest video and he did have deadlines to meet if he wanted to keep his fans appeased, after the release of those 50 Shades books his audience had tripled and he could barely keep up with the demand anymore.

There was a line at th door but he ignored it just as he ignored the people in line trying to get his attention, mostly young women who hoped to be one of his "featured fucktoys" in his videos... He rarely saw anything in the line that was worth paying attention to.

He bouncer let him right in, the clubs ownership had anticipated that he would be there that night and a booth had been set for him, a private affair with a curtain that could be lowered and a simple card on a stand marking it as his table, the logo of his website printed on the card. As he passed the bouncer he did hear some juicy gossip though, apparently some Selena Gomez look alike was inside...

Inside some tried to keep his attention but he ignored them, grabbing a bottle of beer from a passing waitress as he moved to the booth. He looked down on most of them, trying to hard, while they wore fetish gear he was in a simple pair of dark slacks and a tight t-shirt, he didn't need to dress to display he was in charge.

Approaching the booth he moved through the crowd, the lesser people parting before the true alpha male in their midst but it wasn't until he was practically in his booth that he saw it wasn't empty, an eyebrow raised at the curious sight of the look alike that sat before him, nervous as a lamb in a room full of hungry predators... And she had just walked right into the den of the most dangerous predator.

He slid into the booth beside her, pulling the curtain closed as he blocked any escape she might have, later the curtain might rise but for now he wanted a moment or two.

"You are in my booth..." He said slowly, narrowed eyes appraising every inch of her, the resemblence was uncanny. "Which means you are lost or you are right where you want to be." There was a smile, but it did not quite reach his eyes. "But really it doesn't matter, you are where I want you for now."

It showed just how overwhelmed Selena was by the whole experience that the sound of the sliding curtain didn't even register for her. It wasn't until she heard the unfamiliar voice that the girl jerked up. Blinking dark eyes took in the man standing before her: not dressed in any of the normal gear. He looked, in fact, like he might have just come from a casual dinner or something along those lines, and Selena did make note of how that t-shirt clung to him. Yes, he even looked classier by far then the vast majority of the clientele, a lot more like the type of model used for advertising erotica of this nature to desperate housewives.

The words processed slower then his visage, and Selena blinked. "What? Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said, looking around and flushing. The Latin blood darkened Selena's complexion most of the time, and the flush only served to darken it more. She looked around for a moment, just noticing the signs reserving it. "Oh God, there's a sign and everything," she said, nearly whimpering. So much for her hopes of having a few minutes of peace and quiet.

Selena looked back up at the man. Had he been appraising her? Who was she kidding: of course he'd been appraising her. This club practically forced everyone to appraise one another very, very carefully, and while Selena's garb might not be nearly as revealing as some, it did help emphasize her. She scrunched up a little, drawing her hands in as she sheepishly smiled up at the man.

"I really am sorry," she repeated. "I'm, uh, new to places like..." she gestured toward the floor, "like, uh, this and it's all just a little overwhelming and your booth was open," she gestured, "and quiet so I just..." she bit her lip, flushing again. How embarrassing, and worse: she'd have to---wait, hadn't he said something about her being right where he wanted? "I'll just be going now," she mumbled, beginning to scoot her way toward the exit again.

Why did the booth even have curtains? So as to not have the various scenes disturb the people sitting in it? If Selena had only seen those before, she might have pulled them herself. save for the somewhat dimmed music and the occasional loud cry, there was little indication that they were anywhere near as debauched. Of course, Selena couldn't see the little things, like hooks in the table's base for roping chains around or another rigged to lower from above or how the booth's fabric looked far, far too easy to clean fluids off of. After all, the virginal starlet wouldn't know the first place to even look for such things.

The smile vanished very quickly when she spoke, not because he heard anything that angered him but instead because he heard something that made him curious, a look of contemplation in his eyes. She was about the right age and build, do the hair right and the make up... Well it wouldn't have been hard to look like Selena Gomez for a little attention but the voice was perfect. He didn't sleep much so he watched more tv then most, that coupled with her shitty pop music all over the radio served to make her voice very easy for him to recognize. This wasn't some barely legal impersonator, Vincent suspected this was the real thing.

Looking closely at her he saw a spot on her tight outfit where the material was flattened out in an unnatural way, a spout about the size of a credit card... or a drivers liscence. There was of course one way to be sure about her identity and Vincent had to be certain. As she tried to scoot out he stayed where he was, blocking her path easily and his hand moved quickly, almost too quick to follow his left hand was gripping her jaw and throat lightly, enough to keep her in place and afraid whole his right hand brushed over the material of her top for a moment, teasing her breasts before two fingers carefully slid the Id and money she cared from where it was tucked.

"Don't move." He instructed her, the tone making it clear that he did not want to be disobeyed as he released her throat and started to flip through what he had taken from her. The money was tossed aside right away but the lisence was examined carefully... He had a lot of experience checking id to ensure he didn't film an underage girl and this seemed to be real.

From the Id he looked back to her with a smirk, left hand withdrawing his phone from a pocket, turning on the camera and panning it from id to her face before standing it up on the table using a stand built into the case.

"Miss Gomez." He said as he set her Id down, the smile back in place but his eyes aight with hunger and lust. "What a shock to find you here... In my booth. Could it be that you need some excitement in your life?" Turning in the booth he was able to properly face her, moving to dominate the space and force her back deeper into the booth.

Something in the man's eyes frightened Selena, frightened her and made her mind race. She hadn't bothered to get a false ID, not since she could definitely enter a club like this of her own will, which meant that the smiling face and the identification would match up. She didn't quite process that at the moment, so entranced was she by his domineering presence. She stared at him, wondering what he was doing.

He moved, almost too fast, cutting her off. She froze, fear gripping her muscles and locking them into place. A hand snatched out, grabbed her throat, and she whimpered. Another little gasp left her as he pulled the ID out, all that information tumbling out. She made a quick grab for it, though considering their size difference, his presence, even Selena knew she stood no chance.

The money went away, but the ID... "I'm legal," she assured him, looking at it, "and I really just---" she stopped as he said her name, her eyes going wide. In his... he didn't think... Selena flushed darker then before, scooting away. Unbeknownst to her, that scoot pushed her further into the booth, into an area that would be ever so difficult to escape from. The nervous girl swallowed.

"I just look like her," she said, remembering her cover story, waving a hand, "really. The ID's kind of a joke, you know? Since everyone says it. Gets a laugh and all," she gave a nervous one of her own. "And I really, um, didn't, like, know what this place was," she gestured around with a hand, the motion fluttery, choked by nerves. "A friend just made me this bet, told me I should wear this and come here for an hour and all," she swallowed and smiled. "It's been quite a while already," she said, hoping he didn't check the timer that still ran on her phone, letting her know exactly. "So I should be going. People are probably noticing me. Sorry about your booth, really," and she worked to scoot, finding it difficult to maneuver in the booth, and not really noticing that her frantic escape actually drove her deeper and deeper.

She was being honest with him, at least in part. The ID was certainly not a fake and Vincent was now certain that this was Selena Gomez in his booth but he did believe her in the story about the bet, that she had come here because she had lost some sort of wager and because of that had to tempt the perverts of the club. Of course the time limit really didn't matter now, her attempt to get away from him had only driven her towards the back of the booth and without her knowing it she had gotten very close to some of the special provisions offered by the private booth.

"You are lying." He said slowly as though speaking to a child. "I have seen many fake IDs in my time and that is genuine." A grin on his face, ideas coming to him, what could he do with a video of this pretty and virginal young thing? She was gorgeous in a very innocent way, better then most he worked with and more important she was famous. A video of her would make him a lot of money and of course even if he didn't release it... Well he would have power over her.

He moved swiftly again, pressing closer to her, reaching up above and behind her to snatch a looped cord of silk from a hanging hook, gripping her wrist before pulling the rope tight, ensuring escape would be more difficult and that she would be pulled into an awkward position if she tried.

"From this point on you will be honest with me Selena." He instructed as he moved closer to her, practically pressing his body against her smaller form. "If you lie I will punish you." In an instant he was gripping her chin again, forcing her to look I to his eyes as he leaned in to brush his lips over hers, teeth catching her lips as the kiss broke. "Do you understand?"

Selena had already started moving again, though her eyes remained on the man all the while. He unnerved her, made her want to run scurrying away as fast as she possibly could. Oh, how she wished she'd entered another booth. This one had just seemed so open and inviting... just like a good trap should be.

The next words that came from him sent another chill down Selena's spine: he knew, or at least he acted like he knew. Technically Selena had given no proof: the ID truly could be faked and there were girls out there that looked like her. However, the moment he'd said those words, she looked startled, a little shock and a little fear once more rising onto that pretty face. There might not be any real physical proof, but the man only had to look into those pretty eyes to knew that he spoke complete Truth.

Before Selena could recover, he moved. She gasped as she felt her hands going up, soon finding her wrists tied together. Her body stretched, the leather and fabric stretching taught. Selena hissed as she felt that leather drag against her small breasts, terrorizing her nipples for a moment as the whole thing went up and over. The girl immediately started to try and wiggle away, only to find the rope seeming to grow tighter still. The panic and fear that had been developing since the man made his appearance deepened further still, making Selena nearly whimper.

From this point on, be honest? Or... or he'd punish? Selena's mouth opened to offer protests or promises, only to find her pretty lips seized by something resembling a kiss. His teeth dragged along hers, just catching, and she let out a little yelp as they broke. Her eyes again went to him, that fear showing.

"Really, you've got the wrong person," she insisted, trying to move to get away. "Honest: I just look like her, and I was totally here on accident. C'mon, just let me go. There's plenty of other people here, prettier people and all. I'm sure you can find someone who's a lot more interested," Selena started to thrash all the more, her panic starting to rise. She pulled down, pulled away, just plain pulled, desperate to find some means of escaping the situation she had accidentally tumbled into.

He was enjoying the look of fear in her eyes, the raw panic that was there. It wasn't often that he saw it these days, the girls he encountered knew who he was and what he could do to them, most even looked forward to it. Of course he suspected Selena would enjoy herself if only she would stop trying to fight and struggle, the ropes were well tied and anchored properly making her struggles entirely pointless.

The smile on his face betrayed how much he was enjoying the sight of her struggles, the outfit she wore clinging to her as she twisted and turned, so tight that it revealed more to him then might have been intended and the evidence of his arousal would be immediately visible to anyone who looked below his waist. Of course Selena had to go and spoil his mood by lying to him, again denying what he already knew.

There wasn't much space between them but still he crashed against her, body pressed against her own, able to smell the shampoo she had used, able to feel her heart pounding as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back to look up into his eyes. "You don't lie to me Selena." He warned her, an edge in his voice making it clear how serious he was as his free hand traced down the side of her face and over her neck, brushing along the material of her top.

"This can go two ways..." He continued, "lie to me and regret it or be honest with me and enjoy the sort of experience you came here looking for." Oh he did believe she had come here because of a bet but he wanted to lead her to admitting (perhaps falsely) on camera that she had come here for a thrill.

Still holding her hair, his gaze still locked on here, his free hand found a zipper at the back of the top she wore, slowly sliding it down. "The penalty for that lie is that you loose your top and only get it back if I feel generous when I am done with you... I expect you to try and earn it." Pressing further against her, covered cock rubbing against her flesh, it should be clear what he had in mind.

Once more, Selena felt a chill from the predatory look in the man's eyes, the way he moved closer. His body pressed down upon her, just that contact already asserting his position. Selena could once again feel the difference in their sizes: she, a petite young thing; he a massive rippling being of muscle. A hand seized Selena's hair and she let out a gasp as she felt him pull. Her head tilted, her dark eyes shimmering as she looked into his.

He knew. How did he know? Surely it couldn't just be... but did he even care? Even had Selena been telling the truth, had she been simply a well-done impersonator, would that have stopped him? Somehow, she didn't think so. Not with that look, not with those words, not with the hands that trailed along her top. Selena shivered at that touch, glad at least that her position and the outfit's construction would at least make removal difficult. Plus, she knew she had a deep maroon strapless bra underneath, helping to hold her as best she could.

Two ways, he continued, and Selena listened. "I'm not lying!" protested Selena, squirming again, trying to pull away. His hand held her hair tight, his eyes locking her down almost as well as his body. A hand went down to the back, found the zipper. Selena froze as she felt it drag down, felt a bit of the top give way. "I'm not lying!" she repeated, thrashing again, trying to move away. "And you can't take my top! We're in---there are people---" though were there any more? Was anyone paying attention to just one scene among several here? What about this differed?

A press, something hard pushing against Selena. Try and earn it, he'd said, and Selena had her suspicions that she knew what he meant. "You--you should stop," she insisted. She jerked back, tried to roll her shoulders, to stop him from removing her top. "You--you can't do this--I'll---I'll scream or---or I'll tell and---" she squirmed again. Selena twisted as best she could, bringing her legs up now. She had dancer's legs, which meant muscle, and she pushed forward as hard as she could, aiming to kick at his shin, even pulling against the bindings to use them for further leverage if she had to.