This story is a fantasy. It contains elements of domination, humiliation, verbal abuse, bondage, and smoking. There's not any sex, so if that's what you're looking for, go read another story. The hard-working women of Hooters would never do anything like this to a customer. Even if they might enjoy the fantasy.
* * * * *
My head felt groggy. I had trouble opening my eyes. I shook my head a couple of times to try and clear my mind. I felt a waft of air across my legs, and realized I was naked. I attempted to rub my legs with my hands, and accepted that I was bound securely to a straight-backed chair.
A couple of minutes passed before I could see clearly I was in Serina's living room. I could hear Serina talking in the kitchen, but I couldn't tell who was with her.
I thought back to how I first met Serina. Several months ago, a Hooters restaurant opened up about a mile from where I worked. Once a week, weather permitting, I would walk to Hooters and have lunch. It was nice to get away from the office for an hour and a half, and the walk helped me to feel better.
The first couple of months I had a new waitress every week. It seemed like Hooters had trouble keeping waitresses. Then one day, Serina was my waitress. She was a cute, petite woman with shoulder length brunette hair. She was a little undersized in the chest, but she presented her cleavage several times by leaning over when putting drinks and plates on the table. She made up for her shortcomings with a winning smile and excellent service. I was happy and left her a nice tip.
I was surprised to see Serina the next week, and the next. I was impressed with her excellent service, and got to know her a little. I found out that she liked Notre Dame football, partying with her co-workers, and that she could be a wild woman. I overheard her telling two guys at another table that she helped her girlfriend break into the girlfriend's old boyfriend's apartment to get some of her things. Serina climbed up a trellis and opened the patio door to get in. She let her girlfriend in the front door, and helped her carry out her things. I smiled thinking about Serina breaking into an apartment.
One day I decided to tell the Hooters manager about Serina's excellent service. I found him as I was leaving and asked him for a form where I could leave my comments. He thanked me for my verbal comments and replied that I could go to the web site and write a letter of recommendation. This made sense, so I left.
Later that evening, I looked all over the Hooters web site, and I couldn't find any place to commend a waitress. Frustrated, I decided to write a letter myself. I framed one copy of the letter and had another to give to the manager.
The next time I went to Hooters for lunch, I brought the letters with me. I gave a copy to the manager and gave the framed copy to Serina. I could tell she was embarrassed, but she thanked me and put the framed letter away.
I was surprised when Serina called me at home a couple of days later. My name and address were on the stationery, but she had to call directory assistance to get my number. She called to thank me for writing the letter, and invite me to have dinner with her. I accepted her invitation and made plans to meet her in a couple of days after her shift ended.
On the day of our dinner, I hung around downtown after work and did some sightseeing while I waited for Serina to finish her shift. I met her at Hooters, and we took the Metro to her place. She had a nice apartment on the third floor of an old brownstone about four blocks from the stop. I sat in the living room and waited while she showered and changed.
We took the Metro to this nice Italian restaurant a couple of stops away, and had a nice time. Serina wanted to know all about me, and asked me questions most of the evening. I was flattered.
After dinner, Serina surprised me by inviting me back to her apartment. It was getting late, and I wasn't expecting the evening to continue. Curious, I agreed and went with her back to her apartment. Once inside, she mixed a couple of drinks I didn't recognize. I almost choked on my drink when she told me they were called Sex on the Grass.
Up to this point, I thought we were having a nice friendly time. I wondered if Serina was seducing me. I laughed to myself. I had to be at least twenty years older than her. There was no way that she would want sex with me, although, I allowed myself the pleasure of thinking about how much fun it would be to have sex with her. I was mentally promising myself that I would make sure she had an orgasm or two when I felt the room spinning.
Serina helped me over to the sofa. I sat with my head between my legs for a couple of minutes, but I wasn't feeling any better. The last thing I remember was her saying how strong the drink was, and she thought I might not be used to that strong a drink.
I was fully aware now. I struggled, but the ropes were too tight. I could clearly hear Serina's voice now.
"Thanks for your help. Damn, it was hard to get him out of his clothes and tie him to the chair. I wonder how much longer before the Ketamine wears off."
I heard a voice I didn't recognize.
"I hope you didn't put too much in his drink. We'd have a hard time getting rid of the body."
I heard the women laugh.
"I don't think I used that much. He ought to be recovering soon."
I heard another voice I didn't recognize. She had a German accent.
"Are you sure you want to do this Serina? He knows where you live. What if he goes to the police?"
Serina laughed. "Like they're going to believe him? All we have to do is deny everything. We can claim he knows us from Hooters. If he insists, I can accuse him of stalking me since he knows where I live."
I shivered. It sounded like she'd thought this out. I realized she was right; I couldn't go to the police. I wondered what they planned to do to me?
"Why don't we go out and check on him?"
"Good idea," Serina replied. "We can slap him a few times if he hasn't woken up yet."
I thought about pretending to be unconscious, but I figured I'd just get slapped. I was stunned when three women walked into the room wearing nothing but panties.
Sonja looked down at me and smiled. "He's awake."
Sonja was my waitress once. She's a black woman with straight black collar length hair, and a few more curves on her body than Serina. I hadn't seen that many topless black woman, and Sonja was the prettiest black woman I'd ever seen topless. Her nipples were chocolate brown and stiff. I wondered what her pussy looked like.
I didn't recognize the Scandinavian blonde. She was a few inches taller than Serina and Sonja, and she had breasts large enough to have cleavage topless. Her nipples were as big as my little finger, and I thought how nice it would feel to suck on them. She was holding a yardstick in her right hand.
Serina smiled. "That's not all that's awake."
Sonja laughed. "Yeah, look how hard he is."
The blonde smacked my cock with the yardstick. I jerked as much as the bounds would allow, which wasn't much.
The blonde laughed. "Ya, boobs do that to a guy."
I wondered what they'd planned to do to me. They looked down at me and I looked up at them for what seemed like several minutes.
Serina broke the silence. "I suppose you're wondering why I drugged you and we tied you up."
I cleared my throat. "Now that you mention it, yes, I'm wondering."
Serina smiled. "I'll bet you haven't thought much about our being topless, have you?"
I wanted to answer Serina honestly, but I was tied up, and didn't want to find out how she'd react. Lots of times while eating lunch I'd wondered what she looked like naked. I knew she wore a push-up bra at work, but I was surprised at how nice her breasts looked. She had small areolas, about the size of a quarter, and cute petite nipples.
Serina interrupted my thoughts. "You sure like to stare at tits, don't you?"
The blonde smacked my cock hard with the yardstick a few times. It stung and I could feel my cock twitching after she stopped.
Smiling, Serina covered my eyes with her hand. "I'll bet you can't tell us what color panties Amalia's wearing. When you guess wrong, she'll smack your cock with the yardstick."
Oh, her name's Amalia, I thought. I racked my brain trying to remember, but Serina was right; I'd been staring at her boobs. I felt the yardstick hit my cock.
I heard Serina laugh. "I knew we'd win the bet. C'mon, guess."
