The Red Dress

The Red Dress

(c) 2025 by TeddySmutWriter, all rights reserved.

One of my favorite indulgences as a reader is to imagine what I would do in a compelling situation described in another author’s work.

This short work was inspired by the story A Reluctant Sex Instructor Ch. 06 by KyleTaylee. I found the situation between Ezra and Ken compelling and wanted to play with that. The details of how and why are different but the core idea is the same. I hope you enjoy reading this bit of a story as much as I did writing it.

***

The events leading up to Diana being there in the back of the limo as it approached the mansion are not important. Unlike all the other cars, her limo didn’t turn left to follow the front drive to where the well dressed guests were unloading. Instead it turned right and pulled into the center bay of the mansion’s attached carriage house.

A large man in a slightly dated tuxedo opened the passenger door of the car. Another equally large man in an identical suit reached in and pulled Diana out by her wrist. He did not let go.

The first man grabbed her other wrist. With their free hands on her shoulders the pair marched her towards the main house like she was a dangerous criminal on her way to trial. Her shoes, black three inch heels with red fuck me soles, screeched with protest on the pavers of the walkway as she was compelled to walk at twice her normal gate into the house. She was wise enough not to protest.

After all, that she was here tonight to suffer whatever it had in store was entirely the effect of her own actions.

The two big men brought Diana to a small room of green and gold damask above dark woodenwainscoting The only furniture was a large wing back chair and a tripod holding a video camera. Both of these faced a window onto a larger room.

“Don’t sit,” one of the men said as the two made their way out.

Diana was lEft alone. She studied the view through what she assumed was a two way mirror. The other, larger room was brightly lit by chandeliers and sconces–the light glittering off the jewelry of the female guests therein. The floor was parkay, the walls were also done in damask and wainscoting but of lighter shades. Where you would expect portraits on the walls between the sconces were only mirrors.

How many little rooms like this were there?

The people in the ballroom were all dressed well. The suits all fitted the men like only bespoke could and the dresses… the average cost was likely well above four digits. The collective jewelry easily in the millions–mostly diamond chokers and matching earnings.

And here Diana stood in her thrift store red dress and forty percent off pumps from the mall.

A group of the men, perhaps a dozen or so, were lined up taking slips of paper from a three legged Ming Dynasty accident burner. The slips had numbers on them which the men happily pinned to their laptops. Diana was somehow comfortable by their bro-like behavior despite suspecting the reason for the numbers.

Three women entered Diana’s room. One was a well dressed lady of a certain age and the other two were in black pencil skirts, white blooms, bow ties and domino masks. One of these held a small basket. The lady supervised the two servants first tapping cotton wads over Diana’s eyes and then wrapping a silk scarf over that.

The two women seized Diana’s wrists like two men had earlier. The servants’ touch was not as sure and the movements jerkier as they led her from the room into what Diana presumed by the sound was the ballroom. The room quietly as she was brought in.

Diana’s blind navigation skills were not great but her dramatic sense was well developed. So, as she was led to a Certain spot in the room and her placement carefully positioned, she presumed she was now standing in front of the mirror she had previously been viewing from the othe side.

Who was in there watching her? The upper crust lady? Someone else she had perhaps met in recent days? Perhaps it was nobody, merely the camera humming away.

Diana’s musing were interrupted by a large bony hand gripping the back of her neck.

“Urmm-ahh, you are mine now,” he said. “All mine, all mine, all mine… yess.”

His voice was very deep and rough, bestial–imagine Smeagol with the billlocks of a balrog. The sound washed over Diana’s skin like a cold wind across a pond, making shivering waves. Was it real? Deliberately disguised so she would not recognize him? Or just for the effect?

At the moment all that mattered was the effect. She felt her knees wobble.

“No no no, stand straight bitch.” Another big hand grabbed my right knee. “You wanted this. Social climbing slut.”

Diana started to answer but the two hands on her clutched her so hard all she could do was gasp.

“Quiet!” The hand on her neck pulled upward with surprisestrength.

The other hand slowly traveled up her leg, the tips of his fingers digging into her flesh. For Diana time slowed down as that hand moved up under the hem of her dress and approached her crotch. She wasn’t wearing panties of course, going commando being a condition she had agreed to for the evening.

To Diana’s surprise and disappointment the long strong fingers did not penetrate past the outer lips of her vagina. They merely rubbed her wetness and moved onwards to her mons.

“Oh ho, she’s wet,” her torqueor proclaimed. She felt his breath on the back of her ear as he murmured “That’s good. They don’t like fucking dry cuns.”

The fingers skritched fondly through her carefully trimmed bus like it was a pet.

“You like that slut?” he grew. “No cumming. No cumming now…’

The hand paused in its upward travel to give her a nice belly rub. Then it cupped her right breast. He squeezed her there just right, like any experienced lover would. Diana screamed.

“Eee-ah!” she screamed as her nipple was pinched very very hard.

“Hee hee, you thinks there wouldn’t be pain?” Her torquer was obviously getting into the Uber Smeagol shtick. “Your face is so pretty now. Yes. Yes.”

Deep at the back of her mind Diana grinned at his silliness but thought it unwise to show it. So she merely bit her lip.

The hand continued its upward journey. Diana felt her dress rise up as it was apparently gathered in the man’s elbow. She was exposed from her bellybutton down.

“You thoughts it would be easy?” Long, strong bony fingers were now at her throat, gripping her hard enough to cut off her breath. “Fucking your way in here? That we would accept you without price?”

Diana wanted to say “No! That she would pay anything if she would just be allowed to breathe again.” But of course she could emit only incoherent croaks.

The hand on her throat let up so she could breathe again but remained in its place of control. The hand that had been on the back of her neck pushed the neckline of her dress off her left shoulder and down her arm until over her elbow.

With her left arm pulled free of the dress her one breast was exposed while the other remained covered. Somehow the man contributed to use the loose material of the one side to secure her skirt in its hiked up position. “Not naked… no. Disarray more sexy. Much much more. Hee hee.”

A hand returned to the back of her neck. This time, instead of pulling upwards, it pushed her down until Diana was nearly bent double. She was dragged a short distance and thrown roughly onto a wide, soft surface. He–she was now familiar with his hands–grabbed her ankle and used it to flip her onto her back.

The mattress or whatever Diana was on sagged to her right. A familiar hand capped the top of her head. A puff of single malt tinged breath washed across her face. Then she was kissed on her cheek.

“Good girl.” The voice, soft now, almost normal, but still burnry, said. “Are you ready to be fucked?”

Diana nodded with enthusiasm.

“Say it.”

“Yes….”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I am ready to fuck… to be fucked.”

“Good girl,” he said again and left her lying there.

The first penis that penetrated Diana that evening set off an orgasm that had her shuddering and mewling like a madwoman. Whoever number one was waited patiently until the gyrations ceased before fucking her slowly and skillfully her to two more orgasms before depositing his load inside her.

Whether rough or gentle, each man who fucked Diana did so with skill. They all gave her an orgasm before they themselves came. Many gave her two or more. If any of these fucks had been the culmination of an evening’s date, she would have been well satisfied.

Collectively they were almost too much. Almost.

Afterwards Diana was taken to a bath and allowed to soak to her heart’s content. Her red dress was rumpled but intact. Diana decided the offer of yoga tights and pullover and re-donned the red dress.

They were apologetic that someone had absconded with her shoes. Again Diana declared the offered alternative and walked out of the mansion to the carriage house barefoot.

A flat velvet clad box lay on the back seat of the limo as Diana climbed in. Inside the box was a diamond picker with matching earrings and a cheque for a very large sum of money.

Diana smiled as the limo carried her away.

End