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Some time later….
It was the end of the day. I was dead tired. My cruel taskmaster had had me running since seven thirty that morning, and I wanted to go home to my little cell of a bedroom and crash.
Of course, Preston was aware of my state of being, which I suppose was why he decided to turn things on me so abruptly.
We arrived at the busy beer bar in the middle of the early evening crowd. I was unfamiliar with the place, a rustic roadside establishment with generic chairs and tables, old license plates along the walls, and faded movie posters that had been there decades. It appealed to truckers, bikers, blue collar studs, and even Preston’s working crowd of executives who wanted a little anonymity as they waited for a different kind of evening to begin. No one cared what you looked like or who you were with. It was smoky, noisy and crowded at seven o’clock. On a Friday night, it would stay that way until two a.m. when the bar closed.
We sat across from each other in a tiny booth on the sidelines, drinking margaritas and eating chips. A half dozen strangers to me, but friends of Preston ambled over to pay their respects, some striking up conversations that left me lost, a few others, just gesticulating the ways guys do to say, hello, and then moving on.
I suppose it had been some weeks since I’d been ordered to do anything outrageous—which made we wonder if Preston had run out of ideas, or just the energy to see them through. To his credit, he routinely sent me some provocative email with specific instructions. For one entire day, I worked in the office nude. Of course, since my office adjoined his, and could only be accessed through his, he created a barrier enough to keep my position from being compromised. It was an unbelievable experience—another love/hate relationship with my lust.
Still, it had been weeks since anything so stimulating had been required of me.
Even in the bar, there was no suggestion that he had something in mind for the night, until he insisted on following me to the ladies room.
At the restroom door, he steered me toward the men’s room, saying, “You can use this one.” I was instantly alarmed but did what I was told. Inside the men’s room, there were several vacant stalls in addition to the urinals. He shoved me into one of those stalls, which I quickly used. “Now remove your clothes,” he ordered as I finished peeing.
Forgetting myself, I almost questioned him… but luckily, I remembered myself before I committed the heinous act of balking. It was summer again. I was wearing a short skirt, no panties, a pair of high-heeled sandals and a tightly fitting tee shirt. At work, I’d worn a jacket, but was told to remove it when we entered the bar. I was used to being the focus of sexual attention—and in this place I was hardly the only woman showing off a pair of voluptuous tits. Point was, it took just seconds to shrug off my clothes and show myself naked for Preston’s rather steamy gaze.
“Your deeper exhibitionist passions feeling neglected?” How did he know? I hadn’t uttered word. “You can get your full measure tonight.”
He proceeded to bind my wrists together with rope and throw the free end over the top of the stall, tying it off tight so it wouldn’t come loose. I wouldn’t be going anywhere for sometime. Then, just to make the scene a little nastier, he took a dark lipstick out of my purse and wrote on my back…
Take me!
Use me!
Fuck my ass!
He whispered the words in my ear as he wrote them, making me believe that Fuck my ass! appeared just above my ass cheeks.
“Enjoy yourself, slut,” he said, brusquely leaving me to the wolves that followed.
They came in waves… the guys that just looked at me, while I hung my head… not in shame, but embarrassment… the guys who took the hints and fooled with my body… and the guys who took the bold message seriously.
Not too many actually screwed my ass. Some were too drunk. Others just not brave enough. But there were three who took the lipstick come-on seriously. They mauled me in rough play that was every bit as painful as any spanking or whipping or dungeon scene. Their crude caresses inspired my lust, driving it another notch higher. I had no shame by the time they worked me into a frenzy. I didn’t care what happened, or who took, I only wanted more.
Toward the end of my stint in the restroom, there was one long wild show before dozens—a sexless, ageless crowd playing audience—while a round robin of three cocks fucked themselves to ecstasy inside my ass. There was a big guy, lots of hair and a wide toothy grin… a little wiry fellow I didn’t think could reach my ass, but he managed, and a third, a good-looking one with dark hair, a cowboy’s ruddy face and steamy eyes. My cunt flooded with juice as he worked me over, and was kind enough to help me come with some delightfully playful strokes of my pussy. I grunted hard getting screwed, battered and mangled. And then I was left on my own when the sport had lost some of its excitement. No one else had the balls to have me and the crowd finally drifted away.
Shortly after the men left, Preston returned, and led me naked across the parking lot to the car, while I stumbled along in my high heels. I suppose it didn’t matter by that time. Everyone had already seen me naked, and no one would be calling the cops for my public indecency. I was beyond blushing.
I rode in the back of Preston’s truck—yeah, he had a truck just so he had greater latitude for exposing me—laying out on the flat bed tied with legs spread and my arms over my head. We went at least as far as the first highway rest stop before he finally pulled over, let me out and into the cab beside him. I have no idea how many truckers saw that show. Oblivion had descended on me some time before, and I was riding high on endorphins and euphoria, coming in multiples every time Preston’s hand moved between my thighs. We got to his apartment building, when he remembered that he had forgotten to allow me to dress. He put his suit jacket over my shoulders, but did nothing to button it. My wrists were still tied in front of me. It was late, and the only people around were just a security guard and a guy coming home from a long night at another bar. He was a little stunned to see me and I’m sure in the morning he’d swear I was just a drunken wet dream.
I always wondered if Preston actually knew the guys that fucked me in the rest room. But I never found out. That was not the sort of question I was supposed to ask.
***
