Compromised

Eventually, belatedly, I managed to get my voice. And with that came bravado. "What about you? Weren't you spying too?" I managed to ask.

She looked directly at me and sneered. "You think you can cast your perversions on me? I saw what was going on out there in the pool and I know what I came in here to do."

She threw something at my feet and I looked down in surprise. It was a pair of handcuffs.

"What... what are those for?" I asked.

The lifeguard smiled. "I have a proposition for you. You have a choice. You can take a chance. If you can pick those up and put them on, then you'll experience something that you might spend the rest of your life remembering and fantasising about..."

"Or?" I asked.

And suddenly, she was moving. Without warning, she crossed the room towards me, with hands outstretched. One of them grabbed my cock and the other grabbed my hair and then I was in motion too. Her own momentum was carrying me – backwards and off-balance – into the changing room and towards the exit. Unable to do anything but stumble rapidly backward, I could do nothing to stop her and felt a panic overwhelm me as I realised what was going to happen.

"Stop! Stop! I'll put them on!" I said, hurriedly.

"You!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Pick those up and bring them here now."

The swimmer grabbed the cuffs and scurried over, then held them out to the lifeguard hesitantly.

"Put them on him!" the lifeguard snapped.

She grabbed one of my wrists and closed the cuff round it. I decided to cooperate and put my other wrist behind my back, so she could lock the other cuff in place.

The lifeguard let go of my hair, but kept hold of my cock, then pushed me backwards towards a bench and made me sit down.

"You stay there and don't move," she warned. "Have fun. Enjoy the show."

She straightened up and turned towards the swimmer. "You," she said. "Come here."

The swimmer walked towards her nervously. "Wh... what do you want?" she asked.

It was the first time she had spoken, I suddenly realised. Her voice was nervous and wary, but perhaps didn't hold as much fear or tension as it could have. I looked at her breasts and saw that her nipples were proud and prominent through the fabric of her swimming costume. The changing room was warm, so I felt sure that this had to be due to something other than a lack of temperature. And I still had an erection. Was that ever going to go away? I had to acknowledge that despite the circumstances and the humiliation that we were both experiencing, there must be something else going on as well. It seemed that we were both very definitely turned on by the lifeguard's actions.

"What's your name?" the lifeguard asked.

"Anne."

"Come here, Anne," the lifeguard told her. "And do as you're told, without asking stupid questions."

Anne moved forward, hesitantly. The lifeguard took her by the shoulders, turned her to face me, grabbed the straps of her swimsuit and pulled them over her shoulders and down her body. She gasped and covered up her breasts as soon as her arms were free, but she wasn't quick enough to stop me from seeing a flawless tan covering her entire upper body. She was blushing furiously.

The lifeguard swept her costume down her legs and then stood up and prodded her in the back. She got the message and she stepped forward, obediently. Meekly. Her eyes met mine and I looked away shamefully for a moment, but the lifeguard shouted at me to look at her. I looked back. The lifeguard grabbed her wrists and pulled them down to her sides displaying her to me. I drank in the sight of her totally naked body. The tan definitely covered her whole body. And there was nothing... not a thing... about her to diminish my first impressions of her. She was simply stunning. Her flat stomach, her slightly smallish, pert breasts, the small, neatly trimmed shape of her wiry pubic hair... My cock twitched visibly and her frightened eyes flickered towards it.

The lifeguard reached round and roughly groped her right breast. I watched, expecting some sort of protest, but it didn't come – instead, the swimmer closed her eyes and sighed. She was enjoying it! I continued to watch, as the lifeguard's fingertip brushed across one of her nipples, while the other hand slid down her stomach toward her pussy, then paused on her abdomen.

At that point I could swear that I could practically hear Anne purring. But, it seemed, the lifeguard had other things on her mind – teasing being uppermost. I heard the swimmer moan aloud, as the lifeguard's hand moved again, only for her fingertips to brush across the swimmer's pussy, without seeking a way inside.

"Both of you... on your knees, right here, side by side," she barked.

We hurried to comply. I felt Anne's warm body against mine as we dropped to the hard floor and my cock pulsed in response to the pressure. I moved clumsily, because of the cuffs, but managed with little difficulty.

The lifeguard paced back and forth a couple of times, and let us stew as we watched her.

"What am I going to do with you both?" she said.

I felt Anne subtly leaning into me and I wondered whether she was seeking comfort or sexual contact. Going by the renewed pulsing from my still rock solid cock, I was in no doubt about my own motivations for responding to her contact by echoing it and leaning into her. I could smell her, now – the chlorine of the swimming pool being gradually edged aside by her own, natural, musky smell. I had to forcibly prevent myself from sighing.

Suddenly, the lifeguard seemed to come to a decision and ordered us to our feet, again. I stumbled slightly, and Anne caught my arm and steadied me. I still swayed, and she swung round to grab my other arm, and for the briefest of moments, I was staring straight into her eyes and reading all the emotions in there that were surely reflected in mine. Tension, fear - yeah, both of those were definitely there – but all too clearly, I could see a powerful, simmering lust as well.

"Well?" barked the lifeguard and we were jerked back to the fuller awareness of our environment. She flushed, as we both became aware that the tip of my cock was pressing into her stomach and her breasts were rising and falling less than an inch from my chest. One half pace forward would have closed that gap, pushing my cock to point upwards and be snug against her belly, while her breasts... All I wanted was for those breasts to be pressed against my chest.

We didn't close the gap, though. We looked round at the lifeguard. She had unlocked a side door and was standing beside it, waiting. Through it, we could see the city street. We stared dumbly for a moment, and she gestured impatiently. Her meaning was clear – we were to step outside.

We didn't move. "There are people out there," I said.

"Name?" she barked.

"A – Alan," I answerd.

She stepped toward me, grabbed my balls and squeezed them. Not hard – just enough to get my undivided attention and to let me know that serious pain was an option and one that she was very prepared to use. However, any impact to the groinal area provokes an immediate response in any man – there'll be gasping, groaning and hands cupping the sensitive parts long before it's known whether there was a direct hit. That's why you see so many men getting up again with a sheepish expression, as they realise that – luckily – the testicles had escaped untouched and unscathed. Well, I couldn't do any cupping, but the other responses all manifested themselves. My cock deflated for the first time in an hour, my knees buckled and I folded round her fist. As I dropped to my knees, she anticipated my movement and dropped with me, never letting go.

"Alan, I am well aware that there are people out there, but you and Anne are going to step outside anyway. You will be seen, but if you are quick and don't argue any more, nobody is going to have a chance to do anything other than point and enjoy the show. We are going to my rooms and then we are going to continue this discussion in private. Understood?"

"Yes," I croaked.

She let me go and stood back. I got to my feet slowly and satisfied myself that no damage had been done. Then I walked towards the door. By this point, my sense of direction had kicked in enough to suggest – tentatively – that this was most likely one of the back doors to the club. I couldn't figure out why it was in the male changing room, but perhaps this was due to the vagaries of the building's layout. The fact that it was being used for a purpose that was different from the one it was originally designed for must have arbitrarily resulted in this inconsiderate location.

I hesitated briefly, as I got to it. But as usual, my own bravado kept me going. I had enough time to psyche myself up by now and I decided that if I just projected an image of self-confidence, then any witnesses would be too stunned to be able to figure out how to react before we'd all moved on. I took a deep breath, then stepped outside. Almost immediately, I heard some jeering and – responding to that aggressive noise, my confidence crumbled. I frantically glanced round in the direction the noise was coming from. A crowd of youths were walking away, in the vague direction of Clerk Street. Incredibly, they hadn't even seen me – they were just in high spirits, on their way somewhere else.

Unsure of where to go, now that I was in the fresh air, I waited for the others to join me. Unsurprisingly, it was Anne who stepped out next. She hurried right up to me, then looked in the same direction that I was looking. She was pale already, but she went white when she saw the last of the youths disappearing round the corner. Finally, the lifeguard stepped out. She took her time in shutting the side door with an audible click, testing it to make sure it had locked securely, then calmly fishing in her pocket for something. It seemed to take ages for her to find what she was looking for, but finally she produced a set of keys and started walking purposefully towards Clerk Street.

I started to follow her without question, but Anne hesitated and rather than abandon her, I walked back to rejoin her. The lifeguard moved a further half dozen paces or so, before she realised that we weren't following her. She stopped and looked back. "If you two don't start doing as you're told, it's going to go all the worse for you when we get to my place," she said. She waited. Anne and I looked quickly at each other, but didn't move. The lifeguard scrutinised us for a few moments, while she waited for a response. There was something speculative in her expression and I wondered if she was debating how best to force the issue. But then she smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "Alternatively, I could just walk away and leave you here," she said.

"What?" I blustered. "You wouldn't do that. What's going to happen to your job once we've explained ourselves?"

"Forget my job, Alan," the lifeguard said. She started walking back towards me again. "That's not even in the equation." She stopped right in front of me, then leaned forward. Suddenly her voice was lower, conspiratorial. "I don't think you really understand your situation. If I walk away now and leave you here, then you're going to be left out in the cold and helpless until either someone finds you or you manage to do something about your situation. You can try to implicate me if you like, but I guarantee you that whatever happens, however it plays out at the end of it all, I'll still be here and you'll have gone through a lot of grief, a lot of ridicule and a lot more humiliation than you've already experienced so far. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Are you saying we're not going to be humiliated anyway?" I asked.

Again, with that wicked smile. "You come with me, Alan," she said. "And you will be humiliated and embarrassed and you will experience an ordeal that might push you to the very edge... but I can guarantee that you're going to have some fun, too. So what's it going to be?"

Neither Anne nor I responded. The lifeguard smiled again, once more... then turned and started walking away. And that was when her name changed. From that point on, I could not think of her as anything other than "the Bitch".

I started to follow her. I hurried to catch up, then when I was right at her back, I turned to look at Anne. I wasn't surprised at all to learn that she was still standing where the Bitch and I had both left her and I stopped walking. Now, I was torn between two people – one who was abandoning us and one who was torn with indecision.

I couldn't abandon Anne. It just wasn't in my nature. So while our salvation continued to walk away, I made a decision and started walking back to Anne.

I put as much urgency into my voice as I could manage. "We need to go with her," I said.

Anne nodded and – reluctantly – started walking towards me. I waited until she had caught up to me and then turned and we both started walking after the Bitch. Just as she turned a corner and started heading back to Clerk Street.

Now, the street we were currently on was hardly a back alley – but it was quiet and for the moment at least, it was deserted. The street that we were about to turn onto was a narrow, residential, tree-lined street. It was poorly lit though, so it seemed likely that we'd get right along it without being seen by anyone. If nobody was going home, going out or looking out their window. And if nobody was using it as a shortcut.

Our luck was not with us.

We hurried round the corner and nearly walked into a trio of girls who had clearly been out drinking. Do I need to point out that they were astonished? Or that as soon as they recovered from that initial reaction, that they were delighted? Perhaps not. There were hoots, squeals and ribald comments. Predictable stuff, for the most part.

Anne came up short, her hands crossed protectively over her chest, but I refused to stop moving and forced her hand. She moved faster, caught up to me again and we pushed our way through the girls, together.

One of them grabbed my cock as we passed. "Doesn't look like the cold bothers you too much, darlin'," she cackled and the others squealed and hooted some more.

I didn't flinch. I made sure that Anne was still by my side and kept moving, pulling my cock free from the girl's fingers as I did.

Just ahead of us, the Bitch had stopped. She was looking back at us; presumably making sure that we were getting through safely. Satisfied, she turned away again and disappeared round the next corner. It came as no surprise at all to see that she was headed back to the main entrance to the cinema.

"Drop your hands," I said to Anne.

"Wh... what?"

"Stop hiding yourself. Act like there's nothing wrong."

I was surprised when she did as I suggested. We followed the Bitch round the corner. And then we were back on Clerk Street. By this time, it seemed that Anne was responding to my suggestion and to my outward show of confidence. She kept her hands by her side, raised her head defiantly and even thrust her chest out slightly. I'm not sure how effective my own air of calm was, but suddenly she seemed poised and relaxed. I was impressed.

At this time on a weekday evening, Clerk Street was quiet, but cars were still moving up and down the street and people were still out and about. Across the road, a group of people were leaving a pub and here and there were isolated individuals, or friends walking together, or lovers holding hands. I wasn't surprised to see the occasional look of astonishment on a lot of faces, but I was surprised to see – here and there – a complete lack of reaction to the sudden appearance of nudity in their midst. A young couple didn't even break stride. They continued to walk towards us and carried on walking as if there was nothing strange going on at all. As if they saw this kind of thing every day.

All in all, it was very surreal.

The Bitch was at the main entrance to the cinema by the time we caught up to her. She tapped on the glass of one of the doors and waited while someone came to unlock it and let us in. There didn't seem to be any hurry at all. No sense of urgency. The cashier just strolled out from behind the counter and walked sedately towards us, fished out a key from among the many she had on her ring and unlocked the door. By this time, half a dozen people had walked past us and one woman even paused, tapped me on the shoulder and asked directions to a sushi bar.

There was definitely a perverse part of me that – despite the fear – was enjoying myself by now. Ignoring my nudity and the cuffs I was wearing, I turned round and spoke to the woman directly.

"I only know of one, and it's a fair distance away, but if you don't mind a walk, just keep going that way." I said, indicating to the right with a jerk of my head. "Go right down there until you get to Hamilton Bridge. Cross the bridge, turn left at the big statue and turn right. It's right at the beginning of Rose Street."

"Thanks," she said. "Is it any good?"

"I don't know. I've never been inside. Looks nice, though. I might go sometime, when I think I've got more money than I really need."

She looked like she wanted to say something more. Maybe ask a question that she couldn't quite figure out how to phrase. The moment dragged out, while I wished the cashier would hurry up and open the door. Anne, the Bitch and I were all standing on marble steps now and while my feet had already been cold from the pavement, it was now starting to feel like frostbite was setting in. I smiled blandly back at the lady until she thanked me and gave up. Then, just as she turned away, a group of youths walked past from the other direction.

One of them had seen enough of my profile to figure out why my hands were behind my back. "Why are you wearing cuffs, you freak?" he shouted.

It was Anne who answered, this time. Before I could formulate a response, she said "Of course he's wearing cuffs. Would you rather he was naked?"

The youth who had spoken swung round, clearly ready to respond, but his friends had evidently been impressed with Anne's ready answer. Shouting out with laughter, they grabbed his shoulders and kept moving. "That tellt you, ye fanny!" one of them said loudly.

Finally, though, the cashier opened the door and stepped back. The Bitch swept through without a word and strode towards the staircase, while Anne and I followed. She unhooked one side of the velvet rope and dropped it to the ground, then walked up the stairs. Again, Anne and I followed. The staircase curved round to the right, and before we went round the corner, I glanced back down and saw the cashier scurrying forward to grab and replace the rope.

Halfway up the stairs, we came to the part that – in the original cinema – had been the pub.

The doors to the pub were different. It took me a moment to figure out what had changed, but I got it just as the Bitch swung them open and strode inside. Curtains had been added to the inner side, so that it was no longer possible to just see right through and into the pub. Privacy had been added.

It was no surprise at all to learn one of the reasons for this. The other reason was – quite simply – jaw dropping. But I'll get to that in a minute.

The more mundane of the two reasons for the added privacy was simple. The huge room beyond the doors had been transformed from a pub into a large, open-plan residence. Another of the rumours had been proven correct and we were now – presumably – inside the Bitch's own home. Along the wall to the right, the original bar was still in place, but its function was completely different now. It appeared to have been transformed into a kitchen. To the left, above the main door that we had stood at just a few minutes previously, there was a similar set of glass doors that led out onto a balcony that overlooked Clerk Street. Just before those doors was a huge, four-poster bed, complete with curtains. The curtains were all closed.