Nothing like falling asleep in the wrong place to get you into trouble. You'd think I'd know this after doing it a couple of times . . .
I walk to work. It's only ten blocks. Good exercise, and I have to admit I like the looks I get from men on the street, especially when I'm dressed to party after work. I have a good figure, and my 40DDs were firm and bouncy, even in a bra. I worked out, and that had helped keep my waist trim and my legs tight. I did have a round butt, but I'd had no complaints.
I work in an artistic environment, and they don't mind a little extra flesh. So when I'm going clubbing, I spruce up. This day I had on a short, flippy little skirt, scoop-necked blouse and sheer duster. My normal thigh highs tended to play peekaboo with the bottom of the skirt, so I had switched to a garter belt and hose.
I wear sneakers to walk in, then change into my heels at work. I'd chosen a special pair today, comfy for dancing, with straps that wound around my ankles and up my calf. I was ready to party.
Then...disappointment. My party pal, Jeanie, backed out on me, so I decided to work late so I could catch up on stuff. My mind still on the job, I left the office around nine, forgetting the sneakers in my desk drawer.
I headed out, realizing by the time I reached the elevator that my sneakers were still in the office, but it was too late to go back. Part of the security in our building is that the doors lock automatically at 6pm. So here I was at nine, stuck in my stilettos.
Well, I do dance in them, so I thought I could make the walk with no problem. I got on the elevator.
Within just a few minutes on the street, I knew I wouldn't make it home without stopping. Not because of the heels . . . because of the cold! A front had moved through after dark, and now my party clothes were starting to torture me. I hadn't gone three blocks before I was shivering, my nipples standing out like marbles beneath my shirt.
I ducked into an art movie theater to get warm, thinking I'd call for a cab. But a movie I'd been wanting to see was on, so I bought a ticket and some popcorn and went in to watch it.
I should have called the cab.
I settled into an aisle seat on the front row . . . and promptly went to sleep.
I woke up to the feel of fingers stroking my thigh. I jumped, but hands grabbed my arms, yanking them upward. Four hands, two on each arm. I felt a handcuff circle one wrist and snap shut, and as they held my hands straight up, the second cuffs clicked shut.
I screamed, and tried to fight back as a collar was slid around my throat and fastened. Then they forced my hands down, locking the cuffs to the back of the collar.
Effective position. It secured my hands, and if I struggled, I'd choke myself. It also arched my shoulders, pulling my tits upward.
Those four hands pressed me down in the seat as a light flashed on in front, blinding me. I screamed again, cursing wildly. A voice behind the light laughed.
"Scream all you want, slut. Everyone's gone home but us. The doors are locked. It's almost 1am. No one around to hear."
I tried to kick out toward the light, but he stepped nimbly out of my way, and I heard the quiet snip of a switchblade, which he showed in the light. "The more you struggle, the more you'll get hurt."
One of the hands let go of my shoulder and grabbed my hair, burying his hand in a thick clump at the nape of my neck and jerking backwards. I yelped, knowing now I was in real trouble. I just didn't realize how much.
"Hold this," he commanded, and passed the flashlight to his right. "Keep it in her eyes."
So that makes four. My stomach tightened. At least four.
Moving forward, he pulled out the bottom of my blouse and slit it from hem to neckline, showing me that the blade was razor sharp. I flinched as he cut the straps on my bra and peeled the cups down, exposing my breasts.
He chuckled evilly. "Yes, indeed, those are delicious." He pulled a red marker from his pocket and wrote across my chest S L U T. "Know what that spells."
I nodded.
"Say it!" he screamed.
"Slut!"
Calmer, he cupped one of my tits, bracing it as he wrote W H O R E over the mound. "Say it."
"Whore," I whispered.
"Good." Over the other breast he wrote C U N T. "Say it."
I barely got out it. "Cunt."
"Louder."
I cleared my throat. "Cunt."
"All three."
The heat in my face burned like a fever from the humiliation. "Slut. Whore. Cunt."
"Again. Louder."
"Slut. Whore. Cunt."
"Louder!"
"Slut! Whore! Cunt." My throat felt dry, and my stomach quivered.
"So you are a . . ."
I hesitated, and his hand came down on my right tit with a slap that echoed around the theater. I screamed, and he hit me again. "Say what you are! Scream it!"
"I am a slut!"
He slapped my left tit. "And?"
"I am a whore!"
His palm blistered my face. "And?"
"I am a cunt!"
By now, they were all laughing. Not four. Five. Damn.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Now that we have established your role in life, we'll see how good you are at it. Gentlemen, secure her legs, please."
Hands latched onto my ankles, forcing my legs apart, as wide as the seat would allow. He knelt in front of me, finally moving into enough light that I could see his face. Handsome and lean, with a wicked, determined look in his dark eyes. He bent his head and began to lick, then suck, then bite my nipples, alternating between them.
The shifts from the soft pressure of his tongue, to the firm pull of his sucking, to the light pain of his bites shot a fire of arousal through my chest and belly, humiliating me further. "Please, stop this," I begged.
Without warning, his hand gripped me between my legs. He pressed hard with his palm, rubbing me.
"No!"
He sucked hard on one nipple and slid two fingers into my pussy, up and down the swelling folds of flesh. He released my breast. "Your mouth says no, but you have the slickest, juiciest cunt I've felt in a long time. I am so going to enjoy taking you." He paused. "So are they."
He stood and backed away. "Y'all ready?" There were murmurs of assent from around me, and he nodded to one of the men. "Sit on the flat step. The rest of you get her up."
The steps leading down in the seating banks alternated short steps with long flat ones where the seats were. One of the guys, now naked, sat on the step, his erection looking like a rock-hard pole in the bright beam of the flashlight. The others lifted me body, legs and under my arms, and carried me to him.
The ring leader ripped my thong away, and they bent my knees and eased me down. The seated man spread my pussy and guided his cock as they did. I screamed as I sank down on him, landing on my knees with a thud. He grabbed my ass and began to through, biting one nipple hard.
