Free Bound - Volume 1 (A BDSM Erotic Short) by Sabrina Sexton

My hands are tied behind my back. Master has tied them tightly with woven hemp. It's very abrasive and will cut my skin if I move too much, no doubt why he chose that particular rope. The rope on my wrists is attached to one at my ankles, pulling my body completely straight. It is impossible to hunch, or even relax, so taut the muscles stretched, my shoulders pulled back, my chest pushed out.
    The floor of the men's room is hard against my knees and I'm uncomfortable. Master has prepared me for this. He has told me I will wait here for two hours, two whole hours before he returns. Two hours of helplessness. Even if nothing else occurs, kneeling in this position for two hours will take its toll. A tear falls down my cheek as I imagine what will happen when the bar opens. I glance down at the sign around my neck, a raggedy piece of cardboard with big blocky letters written with a sharpie.
    DICK
    SUCKER
    I look cheap, trashy, 'perfect for the dive bar my buddy owns' Master had said in explanation of today's punishment.
    “ You've been far too lofty lately, enjoying your status as my pet. It’s time to bring you down a few notches,” he’d said.
    “ Please Master,” I had begged when the full import of the punishment dawned on me. “Please don't leave me in there by myself.”
    “ Why not, pet?”
    “ Anything could happen, Master. Please don't leave me to their mercy. Please don't humiliate me this way. Anyone could come in.” I'd said.
    “ Exactly,” Master had said. “And you, my little cum slut, will be there to service them if they desire.”
    “ I can’t,” I had said. “Please don’t make me.”
    “ You will bear it pet,” Master had said. “You will bear it, or your punishment will be severe, something that matches my disappointment, should you fail me in this.”
    The sound of the juke box fills the air and I snap out of the memory, trepidation slithering over me like snakes now that the bar has opened. Another tear falls as I think of my sorry state, alone, bound, crying in the corner of a men's room on my knees, waiting. I try to think positively. Perhaps no one will come. Could it possibly remain empty from nine until eleven? Is it unreasonable to hope for such a thing on a Thursday night? Yes. Unreasonable. Completely fucking unreasonable.
    The door opens, the sound of the music growing louder for just a moment before it's once again muffled. The sound of footsteps sends a chill down my spine. They come nearer, stopping eventually in front of me.
    “Billy told me there was a surprise in here,” a man’s voice says. I glance up, recognizing the bartender. He must not have seen me come in earlier with my Master.
    “ Yes,” I say, unable, for the life of me, to think of anything else.
    “ Guess it's my lucky night,” the man unzips his pants and pulls his cock out, the dark red head growing before my eyes.
    I open my mouth obediently, dismissing the thought that this is a stranger, that I have no idea where his cock has been, whether he's showered today, whether he's clean. Master wanted to take me down a few pegs and I feel it completely as the guy shoves his cock deep in my throat, not even a warning thrust. I gag, tears coming to my eyes as he grabs my head and pushes deep. I take it, trying to swallow past my gag reflex, humbled.
    “ Oh yeah,” he says. “You’re a good little cock sucker aren't you?”
    With my mouth full, there's nothing really I can say, and despite this activity usually being one of my favorites, I'm embarrassed to be talked to this way, used this way, by someone I neither know nor trust.
    “AREN'T YOU?!” he yells.
    I moan, hoping that will be enough as the man pulls my hair, hard, using it to guide my mouth up and down his dick. My pussy creams, despite my humiliation, despite the fact that I'm crying. I hate myself a little, for that, for being so weak. I don't want to like this. I don't want to enjoy it. I’m not enjoying it. Definitely not enjoying it.