Taken

[Mastrovenice]

I pulled Steel along behind me, like a naughty pet. She walked quickly to keep up and tried to hide behind me as cars passed by. A few slowed to look at her, their drivers or passengers pointing, smiling, jeering. She was a gorgeous sight: short leather skirt and tight tee shirt and boots, collared, leashed and cuffed. Her beautiful hair and tight body a feast for the eyes and certain to make any man’s cock twitch just a bit. I was proud of my property and Dani had taken great care to train Steel as I had trained her. The vigorous use we put her through had toned her muscles, and Dani’s strict diet kept her in super-model shape.

We crossed the gravel parking lot, past a line of motorcycles and trucks, a few hot rods and beaters and the occasional Caddy. The place looked like it was filling up for the afternoon happy hour. A banner hung across one side of the building read: “Exotic Dancers – No Cover!” I smiled, recalling the last time I had been inside. The ‘exotic’ dancer that day had been forty pounds overweight with track marks crawling up the inside of her arm. Not that the biker and redneck clientele cared much. I recall her eagerly going down on a line of guys in the back hall near the bathroom, and politely declined a freebie from her as she drunkenly threw her arms around me at the bar.

I opened the door and stepped into the darkened space, the sounds of country music and the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke enveloping us. Steel glanced around nervously as we entered then quickly looked to the floor as heads turned and eyes focused on us. She was nervous and embarrassed to be seen in public dressed and cuffed as she was. Steel imagined the music stopped, like some cheesy Western film, when we crossed the threshold. Catcalls rang out and a few guys stood up to get a better look at her flesh. Steel’s cheeks turned a bright red. She had always been terrified of being singled out in a crowd, and she hoped this would turn out to be just a quick stop for a beer.

The group inside was straight from central casting: Overweight biker dudes in jeans and leather vests, a few with their old ladies dutifully camping beside them. A few grimy meth heads, most likely here to sell or score, some dirt farmers escaping the hot afternoon sun, and a handful of businessmen in their inexpensive suits. An off-duty cop sat near the door drinking his free beer and pumping quarters into a poker game. I eyed them all as I pulled Steel past and went to an open space at the bar where two stools were vacant. Sitting down, I hailed the bartender a hot MILFy blonde named Tracy, dressed in short shorts and a leather bustier and covered in tattoos. She knew me well and I was friendly with the owners, a nice couple who attended my ‘parties’ on occasion.

Steel knew better than to sit, so she stood behind me, eyes down, trying her hardest to become invisible. She shuffled a bit, moving in closer to me as a few man adjusted their stools to get a better view of her. One man came and stood uncomfortably close behind her. “That your girl?” Tracy said as she set a cold one down on the bar. “Can I get her anything?” “Water’s fine” I said, and Tracy scurried off to fetch a cold plastic bottle from the cooler. I turned to steel and studied her. “On your knees, slut” I barked. Steel cringed at the order but obeyed instantly, kneeling on the filthy floor behind me. I tied her leash to my barstool and grabbed her by her hair, turning her face up. “Open your mouth slut, and keep it open” I opened the water bottle and slowly poured the cool liquid into her open mouth. Steel drank but couldn’t keep up and soon had water streaming down her chin and soaking her white tee shirt, her nipples hardening underneath the wet cotton. I put the bottle back on the bar and turned away from her. A few more men crowded around, joking and laughing at her. The cell phone cameras came out. “That’s quite a trained slut you got there” Tracy said with a wink as she went about her business.

Just then the music blared and a cheap spotlight illuminated a stripper pole on a raised stage off to one side. Someone on a mic called out “Lets give a big hand to the wonderful and talented Britney!” The overweight stripper moved gracelessly out into the light, her cheap lingerie hiding nothing as she took position at the pole and started bumping and grinding. Cheers went up, and applause.

Steel snuck a glance across the room at the stage, her mouth still open. She could feel the edge of her skirt riding high on her ass, and the wet shirt clinging to her breasts. I reached around and clenched my hand her hair, and brought her head to my knees. I pulled a wide, black rubber plug from my pocket and pushed it into her open mouth and kissed her forehead. The show had begun.