Under Control

Nathan and I had been shopping at the mall for about two hours when his patience starting wearing out. We were looking for gifts for both of our families, but he was clearly bored and antsy and, well, a little bit annoying. Right until he saddled up behind me as I leaned over a display of sweaters. His large hands gripped my waist, then glided down over my hips, grinding slightly – and inappropriately – against my ass.

"Nate," I hissed, batting a hand at him. And then I felt the swell of his penis rub into me, through both our jeans, and I blushed. "Jesus, Nate –"

He whipped one hand into my hair, gripping it close to my scalp, and yanked me back against him. He pressed his face to where his fingers twisted in my hair just over my ear, and his lips brushed against my cheek. "I'm going to fuck you. Now."

I glanced around, frantic, but this particular department was heavily clogged with displays of clothing, and no one could see us unless they came close. Probably not, anyway. My breath hitched in my throat. I liked the manhandling, and if we were at home, I would be melting at the firmness in his voice and his uncompromising grip . . . but we weren't at home. "Look, let me just look in a few more stores, and then we're out of here, I promise," I said, stiffly, my neck arched backwards against him. "And we can do whatever you want."

"I said now," he reminded me, then released me. I spun quickly, my rear end against the sweater display. "I told you weeks ago . . . I want to fuck you in a public restroom."

"Yes, but –"

"Now," he said simply. "Do you have anything else to say?"

What he meant was, did I need to use the safe word? Because we had one. But I tried, desperately, to not have to use it. I liked our games, and I loved feeling out of control. He had warned me that this was something he wanted, and I had confessed that public sex had always terrified me. The idea thrilled me, sure, but there was so much possible humiliation. And the possibility of getting in trouble. I was, publically speaking, a good girl. I did what I was supposed to do, I followed the rules. If it was left up to me, the terror wouldalwaysoutweigh the thrill.

But, unless I wanted to utter the dreaded safe word, it was not currently up to me.

He led me to a men's restroom in the back corner of the department store. He walked in first, and once the coast was clear, he shoved the door open, and I stepped inside. I'd somehow been expecting a men's restroom to be something that belonged at a truck stop despite its location in a nice mall, and I was pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness. That seemed positive, despite the row of urinals.

"The stall," Nate hissed. I pushed open the handicapped stall door, and we both stepped inside. He grabbed my purse and set it on the handicap bar. Not sanitary, but I was relieved it wasn't the floor. "Get on your knees."

I dragged my teeth across my lower lip and let out a nervous breath. "Nate, are you sure –"

"You had your chance to get out of this, Cadence," Nate replied. "Knees. Don't make me tell you a third time."

"Did you lock the door?" I couldn't help squeaking out. I didn't think he did, and I could feel panic and arousal both strumming in my stomach. Nate grabbed my hair again, roughly pulling me against him, and bit my ear lobe.

"You made me ask again," he said, but he didn't sound disappointed. His teeth scraped over my skin, and I shivered. His hand skimmed over my summery dress, then hooked on the neckline, catching the cups of my bra and baring my breasts, leaving them perched on the taut material. His fingers clenched around my nipples, tugging sharply downward, and I gasped. "Knees. Now. You'll be punished for that."

It was on the tip of my tongue to request he at least lock the stall door, but the mention of punishment sent a scorching punch of desire through my system. I didn't want to be punished, not here, but a good, hard spanking was delicious. I sank to my knees, pushing the thin cotton of my dress underneath me so my skin wasn't touching the bathroom floor. Nate noticed and smirked, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just lifted his shirt slightly, exposing his belt and zipper. My hands made quick work of these, and in moments, I eased out his thick cock.

As usual, just looking at him made my pulse quicken. I lifted it gently and slid my tongue along the hot underside, flattening my tongue as I reached the tip, then slowly engulfing the silk-soft head in my mouth. I heard his sharp exhale as the first moment of heat set in, and I started to lean back to return to licking him, but Nate had a different idea. He fisted his hand in my hair and pushed me forward, his cock filling my mouth. I made a muffled noise, not protest, just surprise, and quickly breathed in through my nose. His cock pushed forward until it hit my throat, and I fought back my gag reflex, breathing slowly. He pulled back slightly, giving me a moment to relax, then pushed in again.

The second time I was ready, taking him in nearly all the way. There was always the last inch or so that I couldn't quite capture. He loosened his grip as I instinctively followed the familiar dance. I gazed up at him, feeling the first real glimmer of submissiveness: my knees curled beneath me on the bathroom floor, my breasts displayed for him over my dress, his dick filling my senses, and his hand controlling my motions. I could feel myself getting wet.

Nate pumped into my mouth, meeting my eyes with the slightest quirk of a smile playing at his mouth. "Your mouth is made for this," he said huskily. He closed his eyes, letting me please him for another minute, then tugged my hair, separating our skin. "Get up, Cadence. On the toilet."

"What?" I squeaked.

"Well, take off your panties first," he amended. "Then on the toilet. On your knees. Facing the wall."

Gross. It looked clean enough, but I knew it had to be disgusting. I reached beneath my dress at my hips, only exposing a little of my legs as I removed my panties and tucked them into my purse. He lifted an eyebrow. "The longer you make this take, the more likely someone walks in on us," he reminded me. My breath quickened, and, shaking, I knelt on the toilet as he'd requested. It was smooth and slightly curved, and my legs wobbled, out of bad balance or fear, I'm not sure. "Put your hands on the wall," he said.

I lifted my palms to the wall and drew in a shaky breath. My flip-flops, hanging tenuously from my toes, finally fell off. Nate kicked them out of the way. "Maybe we should stop," I whispered, my nerves flooding back now that we weren't touching.

"Chicken shit," he muttered, but I could hear the smile in his voice. My dress bunched upward, exposing me to the cool, stale air of the bathroom. It tightened as he pulled it together so that he could hold the fabric in one hand. I could feel the fingertips of his other hand tapping my inner thighs, encouraging me to widen my stance. I gave a hiccupy little gulp. He gave a soft chuckle, his fingers dipping between my legs and coming away slick. "You don't feel so chicken shit here."

"There's something wrong with me," I muttered, but I couldn't argue that I was turned on. He did this to me, rattled me. I wanted to hide, to argue, but I also wanted to see what would happen. Feel how it would feel. Do something . . . naughty. Then immediately apologize.

He laughed, then skimmed his hands up my body and yanked me back against him. I wavered, but he held me tight. "Dress off. It's getting in the way."

I obeyed, crossing my arms in front of me and peeling it off. He tossed it behind him, in the direction of my purse. I hoped it caught on something, but I couldn't turn enough to find out. "Bra too," he said. It was already skewed uncomfortably across my chest, and I quickly unclasped it. It was tossed the way of my dress, leaving me naked and terrified and unbelievably hot.

His big, strong hands roamed over my body, eventually cupping my breasts and squeezing. Hard. I yelped. He released them but began toying with the nipples, circling them slowly, pinching and tugging, swirling over them. I moaned, then bit it back. "You said – you said you wanted to fuck me," I said, my breath coming in shameful little pants. "Just do it already! Someone is going to come in any second, Nate."

"All in good time," he crooned. "First, I promised you punishment."

"Not here," I said, a little frantic. "You –"

"Where I say," he countered. "Hands on the wall again."

I gave a sad little mewl, frustrated and conflicted. He couldn't do this. Someone was going to walk in, someone would catch us, he was making this take forever . . . but it wasn't up to me. It wasn't something I could control. I was just . . . his.

He stepped back from me, leaving me feeling more naked than ever in his absence. I could feel my body trembling, my nipples pebbling, the coolness where my moisture had touched my thighs.

I heard the rustling of fabric, the soft metallic brush of his belt clasp being tugged through. His belt? Seriously? What happened to a playful hand spanking? "Nate, I don't think –"

"Shut up," he said sternly, then the belt hit the soft, giving flesh of my backside, and I yelped again. "I'd suggest being quieter, if you don't want an audience."

"Noooo, no, I don't . . ." I held my breath. The next hit was only his hand. Still hard, still stinging, but not as badly as the thick leather belt. The next few minutes were a blur of his hand and that fucking belt, my eyes closed and my teeth gnashing my bottom lip, trying not to cry out. I was mostly successful. By the time he finally stopped, my bottom cheeks both felt like they were burning, and I was breathing hard, moments away from a sob or scream. Then his hand slid between my cheeks and eased inside my cunt, the wetness unmistakable. I finally cried out at this touch, my hips jerking.

"You'll know better next time," Nate whispered to me, pressing up behind me. His hot cock pressed against my hot skin, and I didn't know if it felt more pleasurable or painful. I wanted him. Oh, so badly. "Won't you, Cadence? Won't you just obey next time?"

"Yes," I panted. "Yes, yes . . ."

"You're so wet," he continued, his words feathering against my ear. "And you took that spanking so well. You were so good, baby."

"Uh huh," I managed as his fingers found my clit and circled. I didn't care what hurt. I felt myself in that bizarre submissive mindset, that sort of empty and fulfilled sort of space, where I wanted to please him and I fell sort of quiet and away from myself. I was afraid, but I wasn't afraid. I knew this was what he wanted, and I wanted it too.

He drew my wetness back to my behind, his fingertips pressing against my asshole, then returning to gather more. Slowly, he slid a finger inside my ass, and I moaned, pushing back against him, wanting more, wanting anything, needing to come.

He chuckled at my eagerness. "What do you want?"

"You," I breathed. "Please, please . . ."

"What do you want me to do, Cadence?"

"Fuck me," I begged. "Fuck me please, now, please." My hips were churning, longing for more, and he took his finger out of me. His cock moved between my thighs, sliding in the slickness, the tip rubbing against my clit and making me jolt. He grasped my hips and in one, swift motion, pushed inside my cunt. I cried out.

Nate kept one long-fingered hand wrapped around my hip and thigh while the other played with my clit, fingering and fucking me, my moan catching in my throat as my hips matched his thrusts. He felt so long and thick as he moved in and out of me. I wanted all of him, all of him, inside me, where anyone could see, and I didn't care, I didn't give a fuck, they could all watch.

The door opened.

I sucked in a breath. Nate's hips still moved. I still wanted to moan, but my heart pounded as I heard the footsteps across the tile. As I heard a zipper ease down, Nate swiped a finger across my clit. "Ohh!" I clapped a hand across my own mouth as Nate chuckled. I hated him. I hated him and this was so humiliating and I loved him. My hips wriggled slightly, desperate for the friction.

"What –" The voice squeaked, then a cough, and, "What's going on in there?"

Nate started urgently fingering me as he rotated his cock inside me, and my body spasmed. I knew I was close, but I couldn't come like this . . . "Come and find out," Nate replied, and I froze.

He hadn't locked it. He hadn't locked the door or the stall, and now a stranger was coming in, and I had been spanked and was naked and this was so humiliating. I was so torn. I wanted to run, and I didn't want to move, and I never wanted this to end. The stall creaked open, and there was this hush. The man must just be staring at us. I couldn't really look, with my hands back on the wall – and they had to stay on the wall now, firmly, with Nate pushing into me so hard.

"You ever had a blow job?" Nate asked.

"Uh, once or twice," the stranger said. He sounded young. A fucking kid. Just staring at me, seeing everything. At least Nate had all his clothes on still. And his cock was in me. The kid was seeing everything I had. I shivered, my nipples tightening.

"Stand over there," Nate said. The guy stepped into my view. He was maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, with short reddish-brown hair and glasses, and so skinny. He wore a name tag for the store. Andrew.

"Uh," Andrew said. "You okay?"

I sputtered a sort of laugh but got out, "Yes."

"Suck his dick, baby," Nate said, now fucking me slowly. Andrew looked like he wasn't sure if he should go along with this for another second or two, then he was shoving his pants down and tugging out his cock. It was surprisingly big, and he wrapped his fist around it, directing it toward my mouth.

My nerves were calming already; the worst thing I could see happening had happened, and Nate had taken control of that too. I was safe, under his power, and I had work to do.

I lowered my head, and Andrew scooted closer. Finally, the head brushed my lips, then pushed inside, and though it strained my neck a little, I began to suck.

Nate paused. "Andrew, that's not going to work." Slowly, they rotated me, so that just my kneecaps were on the left side of the toilet. One of my arms rested on the back of the toilet, and Andrew stood in front of me, my other hand gripping his hip as I was bent nearly entirely onto my hands and knees. It was uncomfortable and awkward. I felt mortified, kneeling on a fucking toilet so that I could be fucked in both ends. What kind of girl would let two men do this to her? Shove their cocks inside her in a men's bathroom . . . it must have been a shameful sight, me entirely naked between the two clothed men, my body shaking with the effort to stabilize and wobbling with each thrust. They finally found their rhythm, and Nate's fingers smartly found my clit again. Nate's thick cock pulled out of me as Andrew's drew in, and I barely could breathe, I was so close to coming, I couldn't think of anything but the humiliation of being used like this, in this filthy place, to be so completely defiled . . .

I moaned around Andrew's cock, my body spasming. Nate's fingers kept moving, swiftly, swiftly, while their cocks moved at a dizzying speed. I quaked, the toilet clattered. Andrew's body bumped roughly against the stall behind him as he pulled out and sprayed his cum across my face. Nate kept pounding behind me, riding me through my orgasm.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh, God!" I was nearly crying as he kept it up, one orgasm dissolving into another as I knelt there, cum dripping down my face as Andrew watched us. It was so dirty . . . Nate's fingers slid away and gripped my hips. He slammed against the ass he had just spanked, sending little lightning bolts of pain and desire through me with each hit, his balls hitting against my stickiness as he finally came inside me.

Andrew shoved his dick back in his pants and backed out of the stall. "Uh, thanks," he said, nervously. "Sorry about the . . . uh . . . your face."

Nate snorted through his heavy exhale. I glanced up at him, feeling my boyfriend's cock shrivel inside me, the wetness feeling like a mess between my thighs, and knowing I had this random guy's cum dripping down my cheek. "No, Andrew," I said with a slow smile. "Thank you."