Carnal Knowledge Is Power - The Locker Room
In high school, I can remember thinking - who showers after gym class, anyway? Only rarely was the shower ever turned on. When it was, I could guarantee that it was someone just rinsing off after swimming, and they certainly still had their swimsuit on.
But as an adult attending a commercial gym, nudity is commonplace. I really do talk about sex and condoms, and how naughty I've been with other girls in the locker room. These are people I don't know, and besides, we're adults, right? We can talk about these things in an adult manner.
After one of these steamy discussions, I grabbed my bag with all my shower-stuff in it and headed towards the showers. We had been talking about how easy it would be for a man to come into the girls' locker room and see us naked. Or worse, take advantage of one of us while the others cowered in fear. The mere thought of it made my crotch throb. I liked the idea of being watched. More, I liked the idea of raped by a stranger, in front of strangers. Fortunately, I had not yet taken off my shirt, or the room would have been able to see how hard my nipples had become at our discussion.
My body was my temple. I liked to worship my body by increasing its sensation. It felt respectful for some reason. As such, I always kept an array of needles, clothes pins, scalpels, and other devices of "increasing sensation" in my bathroom bag. I figured that, no matter where I traveled to, I would be able to find some privacy in the solace of a bathroom or shower. I resisted the temptation to return to my car and drive home. I still needed to shower after my workout. I could resist the urge to masturbate in the locker room shower. Right?
I had never masturbated at the gym before. Certainly, I didn't think I could do it in the shower. The glass separating the stalls was slightly frosted, but still entirely see-through. I noted more than one set of breasts, aureole defined despite the frosted glass, as I walked to the last shower stall. Rather than hang my bathroom bag just outside the stall as I usually do, I brought the bag in with me. I didn't want anyone to see my retrieving needles or sounds from my bag.
I slammed the glass door shut behind me. The stalls were cramped, much like a shower in a home that has no connected bathtub. There was just enough room to move around a little, just to clean oneself and move on.
I was going to have to be creative.
I quickly took off my shirt, bra, and underwear, and tossed them over the top of the wall. This created an interesting effect - it happened to be in-line with the light, and caused the shower stall to become dim and almost mysterious. These walls were about to keep a deep, dark secret. As I stood there, in the nude, it dawned on me to turn the shower on to divert attention from what I was about to do. If things seemed normal, maybe I could get away with this. I turned the shower on. First, I let ice cold water dribble over my naked body, making my already erect nipples even harder. I let out an involuntary gasp. Maybe no one heard. There was definitely at least one other person in the shower area. I needed to be careful.
I turned up the heat. The hot water seemed to make my clit throb worse than before, almost as if the warm water gave my body the go-ahead to enjoy itself. I took a nipple between one thumb and forefinger and twisted. I gasped again. This time, I heard the water turn off in one of the distant stalls. Perhaps the person had finished and left.
Then I heard the water turn on in the stall right next to mine. I could see the dim outline of a young naked body with perfect, perky breasts. As steam started to rise from her shower, I heard her groan softly. I spent a full minute watching her rinse off and enjoy the warm water. Then, to my complete surprise, I saw her two hands pressed up against the glass wall. Almost instinctively, I pressed my breasts up against the glass, meeting her hands. She withdrew her hands from the glass in a sharp motion. Then, almost as quickly, I heard the door open on her stall. I saw her dripping silhouette approach the door to my stall and open it.
She was beautiful. She was even more attractive dripping wet. My gut reaction was to cower in the corner, but before I had a chance to react in any way, she held out her hand. In it was a small, plastic baggie. I recognized it immediately - it was one of the bags I brought with me, one with autoclaved needles in it.
"You dropped this," she whispered. I took the bag graciously.
"Uh, thank you," I managed.
"What's in the bag?" she asked.
"Needles," I replied.
"Oh, are you diabetic?"
"No," I said, "I'm not diabetic."
"Then what are they for?" she naively asked.
I made a motion with my hand for her to come closer. She stepped into the cramped stall and shut the door behind her. While she was pawing at the door, making sure it was closed, I removed one needle from the bag.
"These needles are autoclaved; do you know what that means?"
She shook her head, no.
"Basically," I started, "it means they're new, and they're safe for anyone to use. I can assure you, no one else has used these before."
As I finished my sentence, I peeled the needle from the envelope. It wasn't a large needle to anyone with my experience, but it must have looked big to her innocent eyes. She looked frightened.
I put my back against one wall and began pinching and pulling one of my nipples. Although somewhat hard, it became more pliable as I massaged it. I pulled hard on my nipple then, stretched it, and brought the needle up to my breast. I sunk the needle into my stretched nipple. The skin was relatively tough, and it took a little time and effort to get it all the way through to the other side. When I looked away from my stinging nipple and back at her, I realized she had one hand on her own breast and the other hand between her own legs.
I took her hand off of her breast and introduced it to my swelling, pierced nipple. I encouraged her to pinch around the needle, but be careful not to get poked. The more she pinched and pulled, the more small droplets of blood began dripping down my abdomen. She seemed turned on by it. I began plucking and twisting one of her nipples, and it engorged in between my fingers. I fetched another clean needle. She let out a small whimper at the site of the needle. She started to shake her head no, but I made it clear that it wasn't optional. She could have pushed the door open and walked away, but instead, she closed her eyes and put her hands on my shoulders.
Being as serious as I was about my needles, I had a little red sharps container. Before she had joined me, it was the only thing I had retrieved from my bag. I took the needle out of my nipple with one hand and dropped it in the sharps container. I winced as the last edge of the steel cleared my skin. This action was almost instantaneous. She had not moved or opened her eyes since seeing the needle she knew was intended for her.
With both of my hands now free, I opened the newly fetched needle. I began pinching her left nipple again, then gently caressing and pushing on it with my thumb. I took her nipple between my fingers again, and began rubbing and pulling with my thumb and forefinger. She was ready.
I sunk the needle into her nipple. She let out a loud yelp as I pushed the needle through to the other side. As she writhed, I felt myself nearing climax without having even touched myself yet. She opened her eyes and looked down at the needle hanging out of her precious, pink nipple. She began gently pinching it and pulling on it, as I had instructed her to do with mine. She seemed to be enjoying herself. As one hand investigated her newly pierced nipple, her other hand sunk down between her legs again. She dropped down into a partial squat so she could have better access to her throbbing clit. Unfortunately, there wasn't much room in the tiny stall.
Almost as if she had read my mind, she pushed open the door to shower stall with her young, tight ass. She sat down with her back against an opposing wall and spread her legs open. I could see that she was cleanly shaved, and extremely turned on. Her inner labia were red and engorged. As I brought my eyes up to check the status of her nipple, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was another woman, also young and naked, and also sitting on the ground with her legs apart. She was deeply engrossed in her own masturbation. She looked up just long enough to mutter, "I locked the door so no one else can come in; can I just watch?"
I didn't answer. I took a scalpel from my bag and removed it from its protective container. I sat down next to my shower buddy and put my hand on the inside of her leg. I forced her knee down to the ground and began making tiny nicks in her soft inner thigh with the scalpel. With each red line I drew, with each time I dug the point in and brought it up sharply, she jumped and let out a little cry. It wasn't loud enough to alarm the outside world, but loud enough to bring the other visiting woman to climax. I figured she would stand up and leave, but she didn't. She just sat there and watched me.
I rubbed my hand on my buddy's warm, bloody inner thigh. Parts were starting to get sticky, but the fresh blood still felt slick between my fingers. I used the blood to lubricate my fingers as I slowly, but firmly sunk two fingers deep inside her. I quickly withdrew, making it understood that I controlled when and how she would achieve her release. I took the scalpel and made several new cuts around her nipples, providing me with new lubrication for the task at hand. I gave her nipples a quick tweak before standing up. I grabbed her by her ankles and pulled, forcing her onto her back. She began massaging her own nipples, and brought some blood down from her breasts to her crotch. I rubbed my hands in the combination of cum and blood, and sunk two fingers into her anus. She promptly took a position of one hand rubbing her clit and the other hand pinching her still-bleeding nipple. She began to gyrate her hips to the time of my fingers plunging over and over again into her blood covered anus. She started to tighten down. I could tell she was going to cum. I pulled my fingers out of her ass and slapped her across the face.
She didn't make a sound. She didn't move. She just started in rubbing herself again, but acted as if she had been forced to start over again without achieving the much desired climax. I grabbed her hand and forced it away from her clit. From my bag, I retrieved the smallest sound in my set. She clearly didn't know what it was. "It goes in your vagina," I said. She made a smart ass smirk, as if to indicate - like I'm going to feel that small thing? I shook my head. "It goes in the other hole." After less than a second of what appeared to be perplexity, I could tell she understood. Her eyes got big. Her knees drew together.
Eye contact was enough to calm her. She relaxed her legs and parted her knees again. Between the dim light and the blood, I was forced to insert the sound mostly by feel. Not that I expected to be able to see it slide in, but I had hoped I would be able. Rather than watch the sound slide in, I watched her eyes instead. Fear. Fear, and then... curiosity. I sunk it in a little deeper. She clenched her eyes shut in pain. As a reward, I brought one of her hands down to her still throbbing clit. She relaxed a little. I advised her to rub, but be mindful not to bump the sound. She went to work on her clit, again, gyrating her hips. I hastily removed the sound and she let out a deep groan.
She had done so well, I decided to give her the release she so desperately wanted. I took a shampoo bottle from my shower bag. I rubbed my hand between her legs, then rubbed the sides of the bottle for lubrication. I rocked the bottle side-to-side until the flat bottom of it started to sink in. Once it had stretched her opening, pushing it in the rest of the way was a matter of steady pressure. Still on her back, knees parted, and me between her legs pushing a shampoo bottle in and out of her, she rubbed herself. She started panting. I used one hand to hold the shampoo bottle deep inside her, the began rubbing my own clit. I was on my knees on the bathroom floor. I spread my knees open as wide as I could, putting my weight on my shins. She was panting. I started to grunt. Again. And again. She went from panting to groaning. Groaning louder. Groaning longer. Then she arched her back and pulled her hand away from her clit. I could feel her body sucking at and clenching around the bottle. The sight of her bloody broken body made me climax.
As I said before, I liked the thought of watching and being watched.
submitted by: Shaman-1
on: 12 Sept. 2007
in BME/HARD Fiction Stories