Discovering Myself - Sex Stories

Discovering Myself

... professionalism and uncertainty.

But Mark was unyielding. “No you’re not,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

When the stewardess hesitantly asked what we would like, Mark's order was as firm as his demeanor. “Two whiskeys,” he declared. But it was his next words that struck me like a slap in the face, "One for me, and one for the slut."

The derogatory term jolted me. “Excuse me?” I retorted, my voice laced with shock and indignation. No one had ever addressed me in such a disrespectful manner. The urge to flee from the situation surged within me, but an inexplicable paralysis seemed to grip me, anchoring me to the stool.

Mark's gaze, initially meeting mine, slowly traveled down my body in a way that made my skin crawl. “With tits hanging out of a top like that? You sure look like a slut,” he sneered.

His crude observation about my appearance was followed by an invasive pinch to my nipple. His words and actions were a violation, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. "And I bet you’re wearing nothing under that skirt of yours,” he added, his tone a mix of accusation and lewd curiosity.

I shot a desperate look towards the stewardess, silently pleading for some form of intervention or acknowledgment. But to my disbelief and growing fear, she remained completely unfazed, as if the exchange between Mark and me was nothing out of the ordinary.

Stammering for an explanation, I managed, “I-I, spilled my drink all over me and this is all I ...

... had left to wear!” My voice was shaky, the words barely a whisper against the growing sense of dread.

Mark's response was a contemptuous smile, dripping with disbelief. “Oh, we both know that isn’t true…”

A cold wave of fear washed over me, each second stretching into an eternity as I prayed for this to be a nightmarish figment of my imagination.

As the stewardess set the glasses of whiskey before us, her demeanor remained professional, betraying no sign of concern or awareness of the unsettling undercurrents at play. The situation felt increasingly surreal, a twisted scene from a dream I desperately wanted to wake up from.

Holding the glass of whiskey in my trembling hand, I felt a sense of dread wash over me as Mark's next words shattered the relative calm. “Drink up. As soon as I’m done, you’re gonna fucking suck my cock.” His tone was not just assertive; it carried a chilling certainty.

I was beyond appalled, my mind reeling in horror and disbelief. “I - I…” I stammered, my voice a mix of anger and fear, “I would never do such a thing!”

His response was cold and self-assured. “Oh, you will,” he said, a smug confidence lacing his words. “You see, I’ve just come across something that gives me the power to control people as I see fit.”

His claim was absurd, yet a part of me felt a confusing mix of fear, shock, and an inexplicable sense of arousal. The conflicting emotions left my face a canvas of confusion and disbelief.

Seeming to sense my skepticism, ...