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Chapter
3
I was in luck. The outfit
he ordered me to wear was clean. I took a quick shower, did my hair
and was still meticulously working on my makeup when the front door
opened, and David walked in.
"Aren't you ready yet?"
He barked as he walked into the bathroom. He could clearly see that
I was not. "Well, hurry it up. I don't want to keep my friends waiting."
He left.
The next I heard of
his voice was from the kitchen. "You know, you're almost out of
beer ... and next time get bottles ... cans suck!"
By this time I had appeared
at the kitchen door. He got a look at me and gave a wolf whistle.
"Turn around, Bek-bek, let me see."
I turned before his
eyes. "Slower, he ordered." I complied. "That's better."
He cupped an asscheeck
on the way out, gave it squeeze, and said, "Let's go."
We drove to steakhouse
that had a bar in the basement with a back room. It reminded me
of the setup at "Cheers," except this place was no where near as
classy.
We met his friends,
three late-20-ish men, at the bar. He sat down at a table and turned
to me. "Go up to the bar and get us some beers. Get one for yourself,
and grab a chair." He threw a 20-dollar bill at me.
As I walked up to the
bar, I was very conscious of all the eyes following my figure. I
was all at once flattered, embarrassed, and scared. This was not
the kind of place for a woman to come alone.
I got the drinks and
returned to the table. At this point, Dave deigned to introduce
me. "This is George, John, and Quincy. Guys, this is Bek-bek." I
could feel them undressing me with their eyes. I felt a chill go
up my spine and a fire igniting down below.
The fascination was
short-lived on their part. The four of them grabbed their beers,
and turned their attention to the game on the overhead TV. I stood
there until I my legs got tired.
Finally, I mustered
up enough nerve to go over to a neighboring table and ask if I could
borrow a chair. The two men at the table looked at me and leered,
"Sure sweetie, you can join us."
I smiled demurely and
said, "I'm sorry, but my BOYFRIEND expects me over there."
"He doesn't seem much
interested in you, miss. Now my friend and I can show you a good
time."
"I'm sure you can."
I said, "But I think I'll stay with the guy who brought me."
Meanwhile Dave did notice
I was missing. He called over, "Hey Bek-bek, stop flirting and get
your ass over here."
I knew Dave would protect
me. I dragged the chair over to the table. "Get us another round,
Bek-bek." Dave sent me to the bar with a playful pat on my behind.
With my barmaid services
done, I sat down. The men were crowded around the table, so I had
to put my chair between and behind Dave and Quincy. It didn't matter,
I wasn't part of their conversation anyway. John was bragging about
"banging some bitch," and the four of them were listening to him
like he was some ancient warrior telling tales of great deeds around
the campfire at night.
So I sat in silence,
ignored, until the game on the TV was over. The men rose, and Dave
put his arm around my neck and over my shoulder resting his hand
on my right breast. He half- led, half-dragged me upstairs.
Dave flirted with the
waitress as we waited for our table. Meanwhile George asked, "So
what do you do, Bek-bek?" I was prepared to answer him and explain
to him how I was a programmer, manager of a small department, and
an up-and-coming member of a professional team in a prestigious
firm. Dave cut him off, "She's got this big fancy job with computers
and everything. Even has her own office, some really hot shit."
Well, that certainly summed up my career in 25 words or less!
The waitress led us
to a booth where the five of us crammed in. Dave called out almost
as soon as we were seated. "Honey, A round of beers -- and," with
a jerk of his thumb, "a coke for her; she's driving." Dave stared
at her ass wiggling in her short skirt as she retreated.
Talk at the table quickly
turned to sports and `colorful' arguments about various players
as I studied my menu. The waitress returned with our drinks and
asked us if we were ready to order.
Dave, always ready,
said, "We sure are, honey. I'll have the 16-ounce ribeye. She'll
have the chicken platter."
Turning to me he said,
"Sorry doll, can't have you going fat on me." I couldn't believe
he said this, in front of his friends and in front of a stranger!
I wanted to disappear into the floor.
I sat there in a mixture
of rage and humility as the men turned back to speaking of sports.
Our meals came and about half way through, I made to get up. "Excuse
me," I said to Dave.
He broke off ignoring
me long enough to ask, "Where do you think you're going?"
"I have to go to the
ladies room," I answered.
"You'll just have to
hold it, baby. I don't feel like getting up." Even his friends raised
an eyebrow or two at that one.
Because he knew of my
predicament, he dawdled over the meal longer than he would have
normally. When the waitress returned at the end of the meal, he
said to her, "How about some coffee." He turned to me and said,
"How about some coffee for the little lady too? You want some, don't
you? Sure you do."
He forced me to have
two cups. My bladder was protesting, and my stomach was cramping.
I was nearly in tears.
"What's the matter,
Bek-bek? Wet your pants?" and he broke out laughing. His friends
joined in. I got up and climbed over him to get to the bathroom.
He called out after me as I hastened to the ladies room. "Don't
spend too much time in the can, honey. We've got things to do."
I thought my urine stream
would never stop. I kept peeing and peeing. By the time I got out
of the bathroom, Dave and his friends were nowhere to be seen. I
walked by the table and noticed the bill and money sitting there.
There could only be
one place they would go. I headed back downstairs. It was poorly
lit down there, and the smoke stung my eyes, but I was able to make
out Dave and his friends towards the back of the room.
As I made my way to
them, I could hear Dave talking to his friends, "... and the bitch
will do anything I tell her to do. She's a regular sex-slut, I tell
you."
I had reached them by
now, he turned and grabbed me to him. "Hey, Bek-bek, I was just
talking about you."
John disagreed, "You're
such a bullshit artist, Dave. I hear a lot of talk, but I don't
see any action."
"Action, you want to
see action?" Dave turned and yelled to the bartender, "Keith!" and
he pointed to a door. Keith tossed him the keys to the back room.
David led his friends
and me into the back room and locked the door behind us.
He pushed me towards
the center of the dance floor while John, George and Quincy took
seats.
"OK, here's how it's
going to be." He shook his finger at me. "The guys say that I don't
have any control over you. Now we both know that's different and
we're going to show them. You will put on a good show for them."
"And you," he said turning
to his audience, "can look but don't touch. She's mine, and I'm
the only one who can touch her. I'll chop off the nuts of anyone
who lays so much as a finger on her." I felt uncertain about what
Dave would order me to do, but I also knew that he would protect
me and keep things from getting out of hand.
"Strip, Bek-bek, show
them what you got."
I slowly reached down
and took off a shoe.
"Wait a minute." He
barked impatiently. "You could do better than that." He walked over
to a jukebox and punched in some music.
"That's better. Do a
dance for us. Take off your clothes as you dance."
I started my gyrations
on the hardwood floor. Dave's friends gave appreciative whistles
and calls. I was down to my panties when David called me over.
"Here, do it in front
of Johnny-boy. ... Get closer ... closer."
By the time Dave coaxed
me in, I was a mere six inches away from John, gyrating my silken-covered
pussy in front of his face. John seemed half-wasted, but aroused
anyway.
Dave led me from one
man to the next. Forcing me to perform my seductive dance for each
of them. I could swear that I could feel their hot breaths on my
body.
Dave led me back to
the dance floor. "Now show them how much you really love me. Get
down on your knees."
He reached into his
pants and pulled out his penis. He had such a lovely organ I liked
to feel it between my legs, but that wasn't going to happen tonight.
I detested giving head, but David insisted, and I could not bring
myself to deny any of his requests.
He turned to the audience
and yelled, "Hey, am I the only guy with a dick here? Show the lady
some appreciation. I want you guys to take your hogs out and flog
them."
I looked out of the
corner of my eye and saw them unzip their pants one by one. John
was first, and after his penis was out in the air, the others followed
suit swiftly. They started stroking tentatively.
"That's better," Dave
said. "Now you," he said, grabbing my hair and pulling my face towards
his crotch. "Suck ... me ... off." I blushed at having to perform
for an audience; a bunch of men who I hadn't even met until several
hours ago.
I didn't have as much
control as I would like. He kept my head in his hands and guided
my actions. Every now and then he'd pull me back and let his cock
pop out of my mouth. During these moments, I was able to catch glances
of his friends masturbating. These were no tentative strokes any
longer. They were jerking away vigorously. There was some kind of
a thrill going through my body thinking that I was the cause of
this boyish behavior.
David rubbed his penis
over my face, coating it with both my saliva and his precome. I
felt like a cheap whore, but I trusted Dave. David had me. He was
responsible for me, and he wouldn't let anyone hurt me.
I took his penis into
my mouth for one last time. I could tell that this was the `coup
de grace.' His organ got harder and hotter. It actually swelled.
I could feel the first burst of sperm down my throat. At this time,
he pulled out and shot his remaining blasts over my face.
It became very dark
all of a sudden. I had no idea where I was. I could feel air currents
batting at my skin. I sensed someone at my side. There was a gentle
touch at my ankle, which startled me. I almost had an orgasm.
I could feel bindings
being undone. The blindfold was gently removed from my eyes. The
room was dimly lit, but pleasant. I could see only blurs and shadows.
As my eyesight returned to normal I could see the face of my lover.
He reached down, and gingerly removed my earphones. He smiled at
me and said, "Thank you for letting me read your story."
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