WHEN TIMES ARE TOUGH — YOU DO WHAT YOU CAN
Paying Their Debits With Her Blindfolded and Helpless Body
[WARNING — THIS IS A ZATANNA “XTRA” DARK DUB-CON STORY! — YOU HAVE BEEN OFFICIALLY WARNED!]
Guiding me by my naked shoulders, Greg walks me into the building, down two halls, and into what sounds like a smaller room, based on the sounds. He startles me by kissing me on the cheek without a warning.
“I’m so sorry about that, Amber. Next time, I’ll warn you. You just looked like you needed a kiss.”
I reply, “I did, Greg, and thank you. I’m just very nervous about this. Not being able to see while also being bound and at the hands of a stranger. Are you sure there aren’t any better options?”
“Not if we want to continue our lifestyle. This is the only way, Amber. I promise to stay right in the hallway the whole time. If you need me, yell. See you in fifteen minutes.”
Being blindfolded and trying to keep things light, I comment, “And I guess I won’t be seeing you in fifteen minutes, Greg.”
“See, there’s that sense of humor I love and married.”
Kissing me on the cheek a second time, I’m startled, once again, by his lack of warning.
“I’m sorry. I promise next time to warn you.”
Just then, a raspy woman’s voice says, “Can you two hurry up already? I’m on my lunch break and still want time to eat.”
Greg heads into the hallway, closing the door behind him. I shiver a little from both the cold breeze from the hallway and having zero idea what’s about to happen.
The woman right in front of me says, “Listen, girl. Others in this building may want to whip or fuck you, but not me. It’s been a long time, and I only want you to sit on my lap while we make out. Hope that works for you.”
Relieved, I reply, “Yes, I would like that. Can I ask your name?”
“No! Of course, you can’t ask my name. Why do you think you’re blindfolded?”
“Sorry, I was just trying to be polite to you.”
“The most polite thing you can do is sit that fine ass of yours on my lap, turn your head far enough to your right, and enjoy a half hour of girl-on-girl lip action.”
For the next fifteen minutes, I struggled blindly to make out with this unknown older woman with a raspy voice. It wasn’t the fact I couldn’t see her, or even that I was wearing my sexiest of black lace panty and bra set for a stranger, that caused me to struggle. Her ashtray breath and taste put me constantly on the edge of gagging.
Hearing Greg come in to announce, “Time’s up.” Couldn’t have come any sooner.
Greg asks the woman, “So we’re all good here?”
“Paid in full.” Replies Miss Raspy.
The second we’re in the hall, and the door closes behind us, I say urgently, “You have any gum? Please! Tell me you have some gum!”
“Only the piece I’m chewing.”
“Sold! Give it to me!”
“We could… Do that kiss gum swap thing like they did on Bones.”
“Trust me, Greg, you don’t want to do that with me right now.”
He guides me, still blindfolded, giving me his ABC-Gum into the next room.
Greg questions, “This is a half hour? Right?”
Whomever the woman was standing there, dressed in leather, must have nodded because no words were spoken. Yet I heard Greg leave.
Blindfolded, you may wonder how I knew of the leather or that this mystery person is a woman. It’s the smells and sounds of her leather that I couldn’t ignore, along with her Agent Provocateur perfume, which smells of female power.
She simply says, “Open.”
But I’m unsure if she means my thighs, mouth, or? Getting more excited by her smell, I’m hoping she means my thighs. Then, something hard is pushed against my mouth, giving me my answer.
As soon as I open my mouth, it’s pushed across my lips with a warning, “Don’t drop it.”
I bite down, taking the item’s total weight, and by moving my head a little, I can feel its length. It’s a riding crop or cane, and I don’t need to be told what happens if I drop it.
Her leather glove-covered hands slide from my shoulders to my leather-bound wrists, sending shivers of excitement through my body. God, I wish I could see my mystery mistress to submit to her both physically and visually.
The surprise touch of her leather fingertips touching my cleavage causes me to gasp and almost lose her tool of punishment from between my teeth. My body continues to shiver and shake as I wait for what comes next.
“Spread them.”
She didn’t need to tell me twice. Quickly, I widen my stance, and even quicker, her hand glides up between my thighs, brushing the inside of each. What I expected to be a slow and soft touching of my pussy, becomes a fast slap and hard grab of my wet and warm spot.
This time, I gasped out loud, causing her weapon to drop. It never hits the ground, meaning she was ready and snagged it as it fell.
I try to apologize, “I’m sorry. You caught me off guard.”
“So are you saying, Slave, that you dropping my cane was my fault?”
Oh God! It’s a cane. I was hoping it was a crop.”
“No, Mistress. I’m sorry. It was my fault. I was bad.”
She grabs the chain between my wrists and pulls me until the front of my thighs feels a desk’s cold metal edge. She continues to pull until I’m forced to bend over. I hear the click by my wrist chain as its locked to the handle of a drawer on the opposite side.
There is no warm-up or warning before the cane makes the first painful contact. {SMACK!}
I jerk and yelp, bringing more sharp pains even quicker to my ass. {SMACK!} {SMACK!} {SMACK!}
“Mistress! I’m sorry!”
A single finger finds and pushes hard on my moistened nub, bringing me to an instant and intense orgasm. Greg comes in and comments, “Times up.”
Mid orgasm, I snakingly reply, “Can’t I stay longer… to pre-pay for next month?”
My mystery Mistress replies, “Paid in full. Do you mind sending in the next couple on your way out, Greg?”
“No problem at all.”
As I’m pulled into the hallway, I can’t stop myself from yelling, “Fuck me, Greg! Please fuck me! I need you to fuck me now!”
He holds his hand over my mouth and quickly says, “We’re in a public place, Amber. You can’t be yelling things like that.”
“But it’s perfectly okay for you to be parading me around in my underwear, wrists bound and blindfolded?”
“According to the rules posted on the entrance, yes. It is perfectly fine. And for your information, you’re only one of a half dozen or more other bound guys or girls I’ve seen so far.”
As we enter the next room, Greg quietly says, “Last one, Amber.”
Once inside, Greg asks, “How long?”
A man in the room replies, “We’ll be using her for an hour, so it’s a good time if you want to have lunch.”
I question, “We’ll? How many people are in here?”
Greg needs to answer my question. He only says, “See you in an hour, Amber.”
Before the door closes, four of five pairs of hands are all over my flesh. They quickly removed my bra and panties before carrying me to another cold metal desk. My wrists and arms are stretched towards each desk corner as my legs are spread and bound apart.
The man kneeling over my chest grabs my hair and sinks his cock into my mouth. Another cock is slapped by my hand, while a third is finding a home inside my pussy. There is no need for a gag because all I can do is mumble as he quickly unloads into the back of my throat.
A fourth cock is in my other hand, just as the first squirts its hot semen across my forearm and bicep. The collection of grunts echoing in this room sounds like an Olympic tug-o-war match going on as more hot cum splatters my body in the most random of places.
These guys can’t possibly be reloading this quickly, leaving me to believe I’m surrounded by an Australian Football Team. As soon as my front side is dripping warm semen off every part, I’m unbound and flipped face down, limiting their options to a single hole.
At least I have one generous guy, with quite the large hands, finding my g-spot and clitoris. Unselfishly bringing me to orgasm after orgasm, even as I’m sure sweaty balls are slapping against the back of his hand.
I’m cumming so fucking hard. Whatever else is going on right now doesn’t matter. There are so many cum puddles on this desk that if I weren’t bound to it, I’d be sliding right off.
Initially, I didn’t hear Greg come in to announce the time being up due to the constant grunts, but also all the cum that found its way into my hair and ears. Once, he raised his voice and said, “Enough fucking my wife now, guys! Time is up!”
Laying face down and bound, I can feel my fresh coat of frosting dripping downwards off every part of my flesh. I warn Greg, “Careful you don’t slip.”
The last guy leaving unhappily says, “Paid in full, party pooper.”
Still dripping, Greg carefully guides me into what I think is a shower until he pulls a chain, and my body is blasted with hot, soapy water from every direction simultaneously.
“What the fuck is this?”
Greg replies, “The sign said to use in case of chemical spills. Hopefully, they won’t mind.”
I for one didn’t mind. Those jets shooting upwards brought me to one last and very intense orgasm.
Tired as fuck from all my struggling and multiple orgasms, I just want to go home and sleep. I ask Greg, “Are we done now?”
“Yes, we can go home.”
“I’m still curious, Greg, why’d I have to be taken like that three times in three different rooms?”
Greg replies, “I don’t want to be the: ‘I told you so’ guy, but if you would have listened to me about bundling our phone, internet, and cable, we would have had only one combined bill to pay.”
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