Bound at the Bar

I am seated at the far end of the bar when I see you enter, your reflection moving quickly in the mirror above the bar.

You spot me, glancing quickly my way before sitting at the other corner.

You look stunning.

Your long hair is held back with black clips.

Your face is made up.

You have on a white button down shirt, which is tucked into a short, black skirt with buttons down the side. Simple black flats on your feet, buckled across the top.

I make out the outline of your bra, admire the curve of your upper thighs as you sit on the barstool, the hint of garter and the flash of flesh before you readjust.

You pull yourself closer to the bar, and check the phone which is dangling from a black ribbon around your wrist

-Welcome, slut., you read. Are you ready to play?

You glimpse at me in the mirror.

Our eyes lock for a moment.

You bite your lower lip - type out your response.

Yes.

- Oh, slut, such a shame.

Your fingers are suddenly frantic.

Yes, SIR. Yessir!

- Lack of discipline already?

It won't happen again, sir. I'm sorry, sir.

- No. It will not. And still you must be punished.

Yes, sir. What shall I do?

- Order a drink from the bartender. Can you see his face?

Yes, sir.

- What do you like about him?

........ His arms. His face is okay, but his arms and strong hands.

- Okay. When you order your drink, you must tell him how much you like his hands, how you could see them very easily wrapped within and pulling your hair.

You look to me, your cheeks flushing

Sir... I can't.

- You may back out at any time. Do you wish to end this game?

...... No, sir.

- Good girl...... Your task has been stated.

Yes, sir.

- Alas, you hesitated. As you know that also comes with a penalty. I must therefore make your task harder.

Yes, sir. I understand.

- Before he comes down to you, you must unbutton the second button of your shirt.

Yes, sir.

With casual glances in the mirror, I watch as you set down your phone. Your eyes darting to each side, you unbutton. The top of your bra, the curve of your breast reveal themselves.

You lick your lips, nervous, and get the bartender's attention.

He approaches you, and as you order, then tell him what I have told you to say - you blush. You look him in the eyes as you do so, knowing the penalty if you don't.

He smiles as he looks you in the eyes, appraises you with a closer glance at your face, your beautiful body under the sexy outfit, the hint of cleavage.

He turns away to make the drink, continues flicking his eyes towards you as he does

- Is your heart racing? You look flushed.

Yes sir.

- You did well.

Thank you, sir.

- Do you want your next dare?

Yes, please.

- Before he finishes your drink, untuck your shirt, undo the bottom two buttons, and look him in the eyes as you tie the two halves together.

Yes, sir.

As you do what I asked, I can practically hear your heart pounding across the drinks of the two patrons at the bar between us.

The bartender returns with your drink, grinning.

You hand him your cash, and his hand very gently, subtly glides across your wrist.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he says.

You throw him a shy, awkward smile as he turns away.

- Well done. You really are a slut, aren't you.

Yes, sir.

- You're imagining his hands in your hair now aren't you? Pulling hard as you whimper?

Yes, sir

- Good. Now, you deserve a reward for completing your first tasks.

Thank you sir.

- Did you bring the vibrator?

Yes, sir.

- Is it inserted as I asked you?

.... No sir. I forgot. But I have it, it's in my clutch.

- Oh, slut. I thought you wanted a reward.

I do. I promise. I'm sorry, sir.

- It's OK. I'll still reward you. But you must again pay a small price for not obeying.

I understand, sir.

- Good girl. Now, go to the bathroom, and insert the vibrator as instructed. Make sure it is on. As your punishment, you must undo the first button on the side of your skirt. The bottom button.

Yes, sir.

You grab your phone and your clutch and hop down from the barstool. You cross behind me as you head to the bathroom. The bartender watches you with a veiled gaze.

After you pass, I catch the scent of your perfume.

When you return from the bathroom you pass my barstool..... And pause. I am not there.

You search quickly around the room but don't spot me.

You return to your stool and your drink, and as you sit the undone button on your skirt causes the hem to rise higher. The top of your stockings and a thin, creamy line of thigh are visible. You catch the bartender's eyes. He smiles, holding your gaze until you look down to your phone.

- Well done, slut. Your legs are beautiful to behold.

Thank you, sir..... May I ask where you are?

- Behind you to the left, in a booth. All the better to observe you. Guide you.

I will also draw less attention to my use of the app from here.

You look into the mirror and find me in a high-back booth, enveloped by shadows in the ambient light from above. You can barely make out my face.

- Take another sip of your drink. In a few moments you will begin to feel the vibrator working you. Throbbing in your pussy.

You grab hold of your drink with both hands, take a large gulp.

- Slowly, slut. You will be tipsy. Not drunk.

Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

You take a small sip and set the drink back down. As the glass clinks against the hard bar top, I start the vibrator using the app. It's a slow, medium pulse, but you were not expecting it yet. A small, short moan escapes your lips, and you take a long, slow breath in to calm your body, trying not to show any reaction to the two men at the bar. And certainly not to the bartender who keeps looking your way.

- You desire him, don't you?

Yes, sir.

- You would love for him to pull your hair? Squeeze your nipples?

Yes, sir.

- Such a slut. Well, you mustn't let on just how much of a slut you are. Not with those two men beside you. Would you prefer to be here in the booth?

Less out in the open?

I choose another selection on the app, and the vibrator increases in intensity. It builds, then pulls back to a mere hum. Then builds again. Slow rising pulses. You blink rapidly a few times, controlling your breath.

Yes, sir.

- Well, you'll have to earn that privilege first.

Of course, sir.

I change the mode again. The sudden staccato pattern catches you unaware, and you let out a deep, satisfactory cry. It lasts for but an instant, but the bartender hears you, turns to look at you. You smile at him, trying to pass it off as nothing. He watches as you bring your breathing back under control. He turns back to the patrons in front of him, refilling a drink.

- How do you think you might earn that privilege?

You pause. Try to focus your thoughts over the warm, wet throbbing in your pussy.

Perhaps, sir, another button?

- Oh, very good, my eager slut. You choose the button this time. But.... You must undo it right here.

I change the mode yet again, its intensity, its pattern making you squirm.

- You'd better hurry though. I don't know how long you're going to hold out.

You quickly take another sip of your drink and begin to reach for your shirt. But you pause as you realize one more button will fully expose your bra, the edges of your breasts. You peek down towards your skirt and look around the bar. Another button on your skirt will make it very short, practically exposing your panties to the thirsty men beside you.

Another pulse, another change of the vibrations in your clit, and you quickly reach for the button on your shirt and open it.

- My sexy, wanton slut. Good girl.

Thank you, sir. May I please come and sit by you in the booth? My pussy is getting so wet.

- Not yet.

Your eyes close, your shoulders square, your breathing reigns itself in one last time. You are working hard to control.

- No. You got to choose one thing. And now I choose one. Perform this task fully, and you may THEN come sit beside me. Do you understand, little slut?

Yes, sir.

- Good. Now, I won't change the mode again. Yet. Understand that it is not at full intensity. This could become a lot harder for you if you do not complete this.

I understand, sir.

- And I must remind you, once again, because I can see you working so very hard to control yourself, that you may call yellow or red at any time. Yes?

Yes, sir.

- Alright. So..... Your task, what will earn you the privilege of enjoying the sensation between your legs with, perhaps, a few less eyes on you, is this: Call the bartender back over to you, your young man you'd so love to have pulling your hair. You will explain to him what is going on - that you are my slut, that you must do my bidding, and that HE will get to choose the next task for you to perform. You will head to the bathroom again. Once there, you will either remove your panties AND the vibrator which is being held in place by them, OR you will remove your bra. Whatever his choice, he may then join me in the booth while we wait for your return. For proof of task complete, you will give him whichever item of clothing he has requested you to remove.... You have three minutes before the intensity increases. Three minutes before you may not be able to contain your whimpers. Those other two wolves in the room are beginning to notice you, too.

You are silent at the bar. Breathing. Considering. I fear I may have gone to far, that you will call red any moment.

- Two minutes remain.

You take a sip.

You look at me in the mirror, obscured by shadows....

And call the bartender to you.

As you speak with him, you place the fingers of your left hand on his wrist. He looks over your shoulder to where I am sitting. Smiles as he says something to you. You show him my message on your phone. His smile fades as he realizes this is serious. He looks you over once again - the slow controlled breathing, the open shirt and exposed skin, speaks again. You nod. And then it happens: a very small grin appears, just at the side of his mouth. He looks straight into your eyes. A full thirty seconds pass. He says a few words to you. You nod, down the remaining sips of your drink, and you glide past me to the restroom.

The bartender speaks softly to the remaining two customers. He quickly prints up two receipts and pushes them across the bar. As they sign their receipts, he pours three bourbons and brings them to my booth.

He sits.

We exchange names.

I lay out the parameters - a conversation I record on my phone. There will be no touching unless explicitly allowed. No marks. No penetration on his end. But he can enjoy the show as a willing volunteer. Enjoy the touch of your skin.

As he is agreeing to this, you return.

You hold out your hand and relinquish your bra to the bartender, who lays it beside him. Neither of us can remove our eyes from your chest - your breasts now very clearly unburdened, held up solely by the knot in the fabric, barely contained by the fabric. Your nipples are visibly hard beneath the thin cotton layer.

"Good girl." I stand up to usher you into the booth. "Now, sit down, slut."

You slide in and I follow. You are in between us. And we now not only see the beads of sweat appearing on your neck or the short quick breaths as you try to control yourself. We also hear the vibrator pulsing in your cunt.

--------------

I reach up to your neck and slowly trace the beads of sweat with my fingers. My index finger outlines your lips. Slowly. Sensuously. Your eyes are locked on mine. Your breath grows shallow. The vibrator continues its rhythmic pulse. My finger pushes just inside your lips and you wrap your tongue around it, savoring the saltiness.

I push a second finger inside your mouth, and you suck. Your eyes close, so you do not see me reach down to your right breast. You whimper as I squeeze your nipple through the fabric. Your eyes pop open, and you look at me, silently pleading for more. I nod to the bartender who has been watching all of this, rapt. Understanding my queue, he reaches out towards your other breast. You look to him and he hesitates for a moment.

"Go on," I say. "She will say yellow if she needs you to pause, red if she needs you to stop. She's not saying anything right now. So she wants you to. Isn't that right, slut?"

I squeeze your nipple, harder, and you nod your head as you whimper again. "Yes, sir."

The young man looks you deep in the eyes. A warm and mischievous grin spreads across his face. You smile in return. Only then does he reach forward and squeeze your nipple. He is gentle about it, yet your senses skyrocket. You squirm in your seat, and your breath goes ragged as you moan.

He and I take turns squeezing. The juices in your pussy increase, and begin to leak out past the vibrator still engorging you. You look over to me again, then back to the bartender, and as you are about to shut your eyes and fully enjoy, you catch sight of the two men still at the bar. They are staring at the scene we are creating, jaws agape, eyes locked on your hard nipples being squeezed through the shirt, on the exposed and naked cleavage, barely covered by the fabric, on the wanton submission of a slut.

I catch sight of the two men. "Ah. It seems we have an audience. Slut, do you want these men to watch you submit to us?" I stop squeezing your nipple and bring my hand to your neck, lightly teasing with my fingernails. "To be taken? Stripped?" My fingers trail upward to the back of your neck. "Teased? Spanked?" I grab hold of your hair and pull. "Fucked?"

You gasp, enjoying the pain. Your eyes are locked on the two men, considering. You've never submitted in front of anyone before, much less had someone watch you fucking. But I can see the thoughts racing behind your wide eyes, feel your pulse quickening beneath your skin. Before you speak, I already know what you will say.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, what?" I pull your hair again. You grimace and gasp.

"Yes, sir, I want them to see me get stripped and spanked and fucked."

I release the hold on your hair and gently trace your cheek. "Good girl." I look to the bartender. "It would appear it's time to lock the doors. Business is closed for the night?"

He nods and rises. He moves off to lock the doors, and as I clear things from the long table in front of us, moving them to another table nearby, I speak to our two new friends

"You may watch but not touch unless directed, is that understood?" They nod. "Also, your cell phones. Place them on the check-in desk; there will be not pictures or video." I watch as they remove their phones and place them on the desk. They return with the bartender and resume their perches on the barstools, their elbows resting on the bar behind them. The bartender slides back in beside you.

"Alright, slut. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. From here on, there will be no hesitation, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yellow and red are always on the table."


"Yes, sir."

"But you may not hesitate. Hesitations will bring swift punishment. Do you understand?"


"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good girl."

"Alright. Well, these three gentlemen and I would love to see those gorgeous breasts of yours. Remove your shirt."

You take in a slow deep breath, readying yourself to begin. You reach up to your button.

"No, slut. You did not hear. I said no hesitations. Stand up."

You are shaken for a split second, but as I push the table forward you stand quickly.

"Good girl. Hands at your side."

You obey, and I immediately, roughly undo the knot and final button on your shirt, pull the shirt over your shoulders, and tear it off of you. Your breasts are heaving from your quick breathing, your nipples hard from the pinching. Which I roughly do again. The bartender joins in.

"Do you understand now, slut."

"Yes, sir! Yes, sir."

"Good." I bend you over the table and lift up your skirt. Your panties barely cover the smooth curves of your ass. I spank you once. Twice. Hard. Each stroke making you wince in pleasure and pain. "How many, slut? How many do you deserve for not following my clear instructions?"

"Four more, sir?"

I deliver two more hard slaps to each cheek, the skin turning pink from the attention.

"Stand up, slut."

You do so, quickly, aching to please.

"Lift up your skirt in the front so these men can see your toy."

You look at the men on the barstool as you reach down and pull up the fabric, exposing your underwear with the lump of the vibrator inside, still pulsing away. I reach down, pull your panties to the side, and remove the vibrator which released with a sucking pop. I finger your slit.

"Oooh, slut. You are soaking wet."


"Yes, sir."

I quickly undo the buttons on your skirt and let it drop to the ground.

"I don't think our friends can see how wet though. Show them."

I sit you down, and sit back to watch.

You know exactly what is expected, and your fingers are soon inside your pussy. Your legs are spread wide, but you feel some comfort from the table blocking the view. The table cannot block the sopping wet sounds coming from your pussy as you moan and whimper.

"Show us."

You bring your fingers up into the light. They glisten from your fluids. I pull your hand to me and suck on one of them, the sweet flavor coating my tongue. I push your hand towards the bartender who looks you in the eyes as he sucks on the other finger.

"Such a good girl. Would you like a reward?"


"Yes, sir."

"And what reward does my slut want?"

"The flogger, sir."

"The flogger?"

"Yes, sir."

I grin and bring your lips to mine.

You try to return the kiss but I pull back slightly. Your lips are open, wanting.

"You deserve a flogging?"

I tease your lips again, barely touching yours before pulling back. I can hear the begging deep within your whispered, "Yes, sir."

"And why is that?"

I stand and pull you up with me. I catch the bartender's eye and motion towards your dripping pussy. He looks hesitant, unsure if he is allowed to. I grab hold of your hair and pull tight. You whimper.

"I said why do you deserve a flogging?"

"Because I'm a good slut."

I turn your head as I pull tighter. You whimper again as you look at the bartender.

"You're a good slut?"

"Yes."


"Really?" I pull tighter as I spank your behind.

"Yes!" You plead. And then your eyes go wide as you realize your mistake. Yes, sir! Yes, sir!"

"Oh, my little slut. You want to be good, but you aren't yet. And you will be punished further for that indiscretion do you understand?"

Your chest is rising and falling in short, open-mouthed breaths.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl. Now, tell the bartender you want two fingers inside of you."

Without a moment's hesitations you say to him, "I want your fingers inside of me."

"While he pulls your hair tightly."

"While you pull my hair tightly."

"But first he'll push you onto the table and spread your legs, your ass and pussy exposed to the men at the bar."

"But first...." I spank your ass, three or four times quickly. Your voice rises and quickens with each spank as you beg, ".... Push me onto the table... and spread my legs, my ass.... and pussy exposed!..... to the men at the bar!!!"

He looks at you for a moment longer, then up to me. I nod.

He looks at you and you say, "Please, sir."

And that is all he needs.

He grabs hold of your hair just as I have, hard and close to the scalp so as not to cause damage. As you whimper, he grabs one of your wrists, pushes it behind you onto your ass, and manhandles you around the table. He lowers you down, your ass facing the bar.

I lower my face and kiss your lips. "Yellow or red?"

"No, sir."

"You want to be a good slut?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then spread your legs wide."

You spread your legs, and immediately are filled with two of the bartender's fingers as your soaking cunt responds.

You let out a moan as I kiss you fully. Our tongues wrap around one another. Intense, warm, penetrating.

I stop the kiss and grab hold of your hair. Over your moan of pleasure I say, "Pull your fingers out." The bartender complies, your body moving towards his fingers, desperate for more. "Now, slut, I'm going to let go of your hair. You will leave your hands on the table and keep your legs spread, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

I glide slowly to the other side of the table, pulling something from a bag on a nearby chair. It's long and thin. A shudder wracks your body, so I'm almost certain you know what is coming. And as I circle around behind you, a sharp smack accompanies a stinging sensation on your right ass cheek, and you now know for sure it is the crop.

I glide the leather tip of the crop along your supple skin. Smack. Pull it to the other ass cheek. And smack. Each strike soft, enough to sting but not to mark. I tease the tip along your inner thighs, across your pink, wet pussy lips. And bring it down on your behind again. Then six quick strokes, alternating side to side. Your breath is heaving, your white ass cheeks turning red.

I set the crop down and run my warm hands along your behind, kneading the tingling skin as you sink into the sensation. I motion to the bartender and he takes his turn, his strong hands manipulating your soft, warm skin.

I move over to the same bag I pulled the crop from and reach inside. As I am searching for what I want, you look over your shoulder and see the two men at the bar have opened their flies and begun stroking their cocks. No one has ever watched you like this before, and you feel your nipples harden, your pussy grow wetter, at the thought of such exposure.

You hear the sound of clinking chain and look back towards me. From the bag emerges a set of leather bondage cuffs. Your breath catches; you had not expected this.

I motion to the bartender and he removes his hands from your ass.

"You like those men watching you be punished, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

The question catches you by surprise, and you have to think.

I smack your ass hard with a my bare hand and you cry out.

"Why?"

The smack was a shock, making it even harder to think.

I smack your other cheek again. Harder. You groan.

"Why?"

You try to form words but can't.

I drop the cuffs on the table, grab your hair tight, and turn your head so you can watch the two men, their hard cocks responding to the rubbing, to your punishment.

"Why do you like those men watching you be spanked?" Smack - another spank. "Watching you be punished?" Smack, smack - two more. "Watching you be bent over and penetrated?" Smack, smack, smack, smack!

You grunt through a clutch of quick, ragged breaths, "Because I'm a fucking slut, sir!" You struggle to gain control of your breathing and your voice turns to a sultry murmur. "Sluts... get themselves... into these positions... because we love it, sir."

I massage the burning, reddening skin of your backside.

"Very good, slut." I pick the cuffs back up off the table. "Hands behind your back."

You look to the cuffs again, hesitating, and I wonder if I am taking things too far. I decide to push. You will call out the colors if needed.

"Oh, slut. My sweet, little, disobeying slut."

I move in front of you. And quickly bind your wrists into the cuffs.

"I'm sorry, sir. I won't...."

"I know you won't. When will you learn. Now stand up."

You stand. Your knees shaking - almost imperceptible, but I can tell.

I look to the bartender. "Lay her on the table and hold her hands over her head."

He spins you around, lifts you up by your ass and sets you down roughly. He grabs hold of the chain between the cuffs, spins you lengthwise on the table, lays you down, and stretches your arms over your head.

"Knees up. Feet on the table. Spread your thighs."

You do so quickly.

I run my hand up along an inner thigh, slowly towards your throbbing pussy lips, so wet, sopping. In my other hand appears the crop. I begin running it slowly up your other thigh, across your cunt, so softly, gently. I tap your lips with it and you shudder. Twice more I bring it down, a bit harder, and your thighs come together.

"Oh, no you don't, slut. This is your punishment. Raise your feet upwards."

----------------

You raise your legs into the air, and I push them back towards your shoulders. A quick look and the bartender knows what I want; he grabs hold of your ankles and holds them, spreading your legs open for the crop.

I use two fingers to separate your dripping pussy lips, exposing your clit.

"How many do you deserve?"

"Ten, sir."

"Yes, s-AAAH!" The first slap catches you unexpectedly, light but loud, upon your clit. You breathe out slowly, controlling. Breathe in. "One."

The second crack is still soft, but envelops the open lips of your cunt. "Two."

Three more blows from the crop. You count them out as quickly as you can. Your labia pulse and expand with each breath.

You take a deep breath in, and as I aim number six and seven at your clit once again, eight and nine on your vulva, all a bit harder than before, you breathe out in one long breath, trying to count through the pain and pleasure. But you can't reach ten.

"Yellow. Yellow!" You say.

I stop. Lean forward, placing one hand on your pounding chest. I nod to the bartender who released your legs. "Thank you for telling me. You've more than served your punishment for that indiscretion." I gently move the strands of hair stuck to your forehead with your sweat. "Tell me, what to do next. Are you at red?"

"No, sir."

"Okay. We'll pause for just a bit."

Your breathing slows a bit. Your heartbeat too.

But a quick glance reveals your pussy as it still throbs visibly, puffy and pink.

"Tell me slut. What will help you? What do you want?"

My hand begins to slowly, gently rub the sopping wetness between your legs. It massages your inner thighs as well, then returns to cup the warmth of your sex. You moan in pleasure.

"Thank you, sir. That feels good."

"No, no, no. Tell us. Your choice while we pause for a minute. What do you need?" You look into my eyes, unsure. "You are on yellow. This is your choice. What do you need?"

"If I may, sir, I would love to have my pussy licked."

I smile. "An excellent choice slut. Something to soothe the sting. But - careful, my slut. You will not come. Not yet. Not until I allow you."

"I understand, sir."

I look to the bartender. "Care to help this slut relieve some pain?"

He grins, then looks down into your eyes. He leans down and kisses you - a gesture you return quite happily. He replaces his tongue and lips with the two fingers he'd impaled you with, and you suck at the smoky flavor as he moves around to bring his tongue to your other greedy lips. I sense the skill he has - delicate, soft, exploring - because you respond in turn, pushing your hips closer to his face with a deep moan of pleasure. You continue to whimper as his tongue lightly flicks your clit, then relaxes into a full palate as it winds gently around your labia, then pulls back to allow just his lips to touch like a feather to your labia and pull slowly back. Your head turns to the side, eyes closed in bliss.

I begin to gently tease your nipples. Already tender from their punishment, I rub lightly with my fingertips, occasionally squeezing just a bit. As I do this, and as the bartender keeps switching up his technique, eager to find as many buttons as he can, your moaning and gasping and "Ohmygod"s begin to grow in volume. Your hips begin to rock in earnest, pulsing your cunt towards his lips.

"Careful, my slut."

But just then, he places a finger inside you, beckoning in time with your motions, and you cannot help yourself. He triggers a rise in your volume, a violent staccato in your hips that quickens. "Ohmygod!" You cry out. And your cries turn unintelligible as his tongue keeps lapping at your clit and wave after wave of a powerful orgasm rocks you on the table. Finally unable to take anymore you sit up and push the bartenders face away from your pussy. Your breathing is ragged, your voice deep. "Holy fuck." Your body relaxes onto the table as you smile. And then....

You open your eyes and see me, squatting next to the table, my face inches from yours, smiling. I stroke your hair. "Did you enjoy that, slut?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm so glad." I look to the bartender, smiling at your from between your thighs. I chuckle. "He seems to know his way around your pussy."

"Yes, sir. That.... Whew, that felt very good, sir."

"I could tell." I continue to stroke your hair, and you close your eyes.

"So good, sir."

"Your pussy lips still stinging?"

"No, sir."

"Good. That's good." I grab hold of your hair, stand, and raise you quickly into a sitting position. Your eyes open in shock and you meet my angry stare. You yelp as I smack one of your breasts. "But!" Smack. "You!" Smack. "Disobeyed!" Smack! "My direct order!"

Your nipple and aureola begin to swell and redden as you realize what you've done.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to cum! I'm sorry, sir! I'm sorry!!"

I squeeze the reddening nipple hard and you cry out. I let go, turn your face to mine, and kiss hard. "Yes. You will be."

The bartender scuttles to the side as I yank you off of the table and onto your feet and spank your ass three times hard.

"Hands on your head." You comply immediately. "Spread your legs. And don't move."

To the bartender I say, "Turn the table." Which he does, angling it perpendicular to the back of the booth. From my bag I grab a blindfold and approach you. I spank you again. "Put your arms down, slut." Your arms snap to your side, and I place the blindfold on you. "Arms back up. Grab your hair." You do, and my hand attacks your other breast, five times hard. You grit your teeth, gasping. "Don't move, do you understand?" You nod quickly.

I look to the two gentlemen with their cocks in their hands. "Gentlemen, if you care to help, bring two chairs over this way." They both stand, quickly remove the rest of their clothing, grab two chairs, and slide them over near us. I circle you slowly.

"My little slut. My cock-hungry slut. My disobedient little cunt."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir, what?"

"I'm a disobedient cunt, sir."

"Who deserves a severe punishment."

"Who deserves a severe punishment, yes, sir."

I look to the two customers. "Spank her. Where she stands. But remember, no marks."

They come behind you, eyeing your gorgeous body covered in sweat, your pussy lips extended and puffy, your nipples and areolae a dark reddish brown, your ass red. They each begin to touch and feel your skin.

"I said punish her gentlemen. Spank her ass."

And they each begin alternating, bringing their hands down on your already-stinging ass. You grip harder to your hair, the muscles in your arms tensing as you take the punishment, breathing through clenched teeth.

"Yellow?"

"No, sir!"

"Red?"

"No, sir!"

"Does my little fucking whore deserve to be punished?"

"Yes, sir!"

"How?"

"I want...." A particularly sharp smack makes you cry out. "Aah!"

"How??"

"I deserve to be fucked - aah! - by - aah! - by everyone, sir!"

I raise my hand, and the two men stop their assault. I approach her, place my hand on her ass, and gently rub all over. The kneading sensations are heightened by the stinging. Her moans of pleasure are punctuated by quick breaths in and out through her nose.

"By everyone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Lie down on the table." I spank you once and you cry out again. "Now, cunt."

You step to the table. I lift you and sit you onto it. I grab hold of your shackled hands, still gripping your hair, and pull them up, then back, laying you prone on the table. I separate the cuff from one hand, bring your wrists to the corners above your head, and attach the free cuff to the table leg below. From the bag I pull two more sets of cuffs and toss them to the two customers.

"Slide those chairs over so her feet rest on them. Then cuff her to the table legs."

Your breathing quickens as they follow their orders and I dig into the bag for the final set of cuffs. I finish securing you spread eagle to the table and begin running my hands all over your helpless body.

"Join me, gentlemen. This little slut loves to be handled."

And just like that, there are eight hands on your tingling, reddened flesh - kneading, pulling, massaging, pinching. The deep moan that escapes your body resonates.

"Red or yellow?"

"No, sir. No. I deserve to be fucked. I disappointed you, sir."

"You didn't just disappoint me, slut. You disobeyed and came without permission."

"Yes, sir."

I grab your hair and squeeze a nipple. You whimper.

"And now, we are all going to fuck your wet cunt."

"Yes, sir."

"Take turns pounding into you."

"Yes, sir. I want the punishment, sir."

I clamp a hand on your mouth, stick two fingers roughly inside you.

"Stop speaking right now." I jack my fingers in and out of you. You grunt. "I don't care what you want. This is not about your wants. This is about you needing a lesson in obeying. Do you understand, you stupid slut? Nod your head if you understand." You nod, your eyes closed, my fingers filling you, pounding you. "Good. Now, you will not come until you are given permission. And.... You will only speak now for two reasons: If you need red or yellow or if you are asked a direct question."

I pull my sopping fingers out and slap your pussy lips. "Do you understand, slut?" You whimper and nod. "Do you really?" I smack your pussy lips once more, and you cry out through my fingers as you nod again, the breaths through your nose quick and punctuated.

I remove my hand from your mouth, and you suck air into your lungs. I run my hand, covered in your sweet juices, up your torso. Spreading the smell of your pulsing cunt onto your now sweat-covered nakedness.

I reach into my bag and pull out a handful of condoms, toss them onto the table beside you.

"Gentlemen, nobody fucks her without a condom." Each of them begins to quickly unwrap and put a condom on. "Again, no marks. Red or yellow means stop or pause immediately.... Otherwise... teach this cock-hungry whore to obey." I lean down and whisper in your ear. "And don't you dare come, whore."

And as you nod again, the taller of the two customers steps forward and sinks his cock deep into your sopping pussy.

You gasp.

And as he finds his rhythm, the other customer begins kissing and kneading your nipples. The bartender grabs your hair and turns your head to him as he leans down and kisses you, stifling your whimpers with his tongue.

And I? I grab hold of the crop and begin running it down the side of your body. Teasing you. Stroking your skin. Running it along your clit. Smacking your thigh, your mound, your breast - not hard. Just enough to tease you, add to your sensory explosion.

"Remember, bitch. You WILL NOT cum. Not yet. Not until I say."

The bartender is still gripping your hair tightly, nibbling on your lip with teeth and tongue. But I can see the slightest nod of acquiescence.

The customer deep inside you, unable to contain himself for long, begins moaning loudly, spanking the side of your ass. "Fuck, yes!" he cries, and unleashes his load. You close your eyes, concentrating, pushing against all the sensations so as not to reach a climax of your own. He pulls out and disposes of the condom, steps back to watch, keeping himself hard with slow strokes of his cock.

His friend quickly steps around to your wet, puffy nether lips and plunges his own cock between them, driving needfully into your gaping hole. His cock size is average like that of his friend's, but he fucks you much harder after finding you fully lubricated. Your eyes open wide at the sudden pounding, the bestial thrusting making it nearly impossible to mitigate your body's reactions. You grunt and whimper through the kisses of the bartender.

The man fucking you grabs tightly to your hips, and thrusts deeper and harder, his guttural sounds deep and throaty. Your breathing picks up speed as you moan loudly - then quell your voice and close your eyes again, focusing, timing your breath as slow and long as you can.

"That's a good, little cunt. Keep control of your reactions. If you think this lesson is hard, if you cum before I say you will learn what true punishment can feel like."

The bartender breaks off from kissing you, quickly undoes his pants, and steps back to strip. Your eyes go wide at the site of his cock, large, firm, and strong like his hands. He steps forward, grabs your hair roughly once again, and as you cry out your mouth is instantly filled with his cock. Your moan is one of intense pleasure, and your tongue begins wrapping around his shaft, your jaw wide and relaxing. I lightly slap each nipple with the paddle, and as you moan again he begins to rock, in, out, picking up speed to match the man between your legs.

Your long, slow, moans grow deeper, the cocks filling each end of you. I worry that you may cum again, but without warning, the man fucking your pussy lets out a roaring moan, cums hard inside of you, and pulls out with a "Fuck yes, this slut is so fucking wet!"

The bartender releases the hold on your hair and pulls his dick from your mouth. Saliva and precum drip from your lips.

"You love getting filled with cock, don't you slut?"

"Yes, sir."

"I was afraid of that. Hardly seems like punishment. You need something more, slut?"

I squeeze a tit in one hand and slap your nipple with my other.

"Ahh! Yes, sir, I need more punishment."

"You need to bent over this table. Spanked?" Slap.

"Unff. Yes please, sir."

"Filled with this man's large cock?" Slap.

"Mmm. Yes, sir."

"While these two men gag you with their dicks?" Slap, slap, slap.

"Argh! Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Please, sir!"

"Such a little whore. Gentlemen, help me."

In no time, we have uncoupled you from the table and moved the chairs away.

"Stand up, slut!"

We haul you up, turn the table, and roughly bend you over it, then cuff you again. This time however, your legs and arms are spread further to reach the table legs, and your head hangs over the other side as your pussy is stretched wide open."

The two customers move near your head, the bartender behind you, but I hold up a hand and they wait. I tap your ass with the crop twice. Not expecting it, you yelp and grimace, then breathe through your teeth as I insert three fingers roughly inside you and run them around inside your dripping cunt.

"Yellow or red?"

Smack.

"No, sir."

"Are you sure, slut?"

Smack!

"Ah! Yes, sir."

"Why?" Smack. "Why??" Smack!

"Ah!! Because I'm a fucking slut, sir." Your voice is filled with desperation and need. "I deserve to be punished for not obeying you. And I want it - I want it so bad I want the cocks in my pussy and mouth because I'm a cock-hungry little slut and we get ourselves into these positions because we love it!"

I rub my hand along her reddened ass. "You want this punishment?" The bartender joins me: cupping and massaging your ass with one hand while applying a condom with the other. Your ass is pushing upwards, straining against the cuffs around your ankles as your vaginal lips expand and contract with their need.

You whisper through the mix of sensations. "Yes, sir. Please punish me, sir."

I grab you by the hair and assault your mouth with a fiery kiss. "Very well, slut." I let go of your head, lower my hand, and the three men begin their assault.

The two customers take turns holding your head and thrusting their dicks inside your mouth. They are gentle in their speed, but not in their insistence. As one cock reaches deep it holds there for seconds before pulling out, and as you gag and spit, the next cock enters.

Meanwhile, the bartender is massaging your ass in between slaps. They aren't hard, but your ass is already aflame. His cock, every inch of its length and girth, is burying deep inside you with every forward pound. And each time it does, you let out a guttural moan which is either muffled by the cock filling your throat or punctuated by your ragged breaths while the cocks trade out.

All the while, my crop flicks your skin - feet, thighs, ass, arms.

It is a relentless punishment of your body and senses.

And as it stretches on for minutes -

As each cock in your mouth enjoys moving quickly and deeply now, causing a rhythmic, sloppy gagging sound to escape you -

As your cunt is occasionally left to sit wide open, dripping, as the bartender's cock teases your hole -

As your neck and jaw grow weak from the abuse -

As I reach under and pinch your nipples, knead them with the sweat from your glistening body -

As the bartender squeezes your ass as he pounds back into you again -

Your whimpers -

Your screams -

Your grunts and moans -

Grow longer and louder.

"Don't you cum, slut. Don't you dare fucking cum."

You close your eyes, concentrating hard, desperate to contain yourself.

One man cums deep in your throat. As he pulls out, your lips drip with his juices, and the other man quickly pushes in. As you are forced to gobble his cock, the bartender's moans increase and he, too, cums hard, slamming inside of you like an animal. And then you are slammed once again from the other side, the second customer's semen pulses deep into your throat as his cock holds still and your face turns a reddish purple. He pulls out and you simultaneously suck in air and cough out spit.

I grab hold of your hair and lift your sagging head. "Well, cunt? Is your lesson learned?"

"Yes, sir. My lesson is learned, sir."

"How can I be certain, slut?"

"Because, sir, I did not cum this time. I held out, sir."

I smile and brush sweaty strands of hair out of her face. "Veeeery good, my slut. And.... do you.... want to cum?"

"Oh, yes, please, sir."

"Very well."

At a nod, the two customers undo your cuffs, releasing your wrists. The bartender releases your ankles and helps you stand. And within moments, you are lowered onto me as I lie naked on the floor.

"Easy now, gentlemen. This slut has learned her lesson. Treat her tenderly."

And as you begin to rock back and forth on my rigid cock, filled deep and wide with the pleasure, you eagerly take the bartender's shaft in your mouth, sucking him deep and all around. The two customers stroke all the reddened parts of your skin, soothing and exhilarating at the same time.

Your moans turn first to quiet breaths. Then you begin to whisper "oh, fuck" over and over.

"Not yet, my slut."

My cock increases in girth in response to your sounds, and you begin to moan loudly.

"Not yet, my slut."

"Please, sir. Please."

My cock pulses as you beg, and your pelvis begins to pulse.

"Not yet, my slut!"

Your breath becomes quick, in and out through the nose.

"Oh, my god. Oh, fuck. Please, sir. Please. I wanna come. I wanna..."

"Now, slut. Now you may come."

Your pussy begins to rock wildly as you lose control. "Oh fuuuuuuuuuccckk," you scream. "Aaahh! Oh, my god, oh, fuck." You vibrate and spasm uncontrollably.

The bartender can't hold back and he fills your mouth with cum which you have just enough awareness to swallow greedily. I, in turn, groan and scream in pleasure as I shoot my load deep inside you, my pulsing cock rocking you through another series of pleasure spasms.

You collapse onto me, and I wrap my arms around you, sweat smooth and wet.

I whisper in your ear, "I love you."

And before you hug me in return, you smile and reply, in a ragged whisper, "I love you."