In The Bushes Of Tompkins Square Park

I lay there, naked, exposed, alone, and restrained. I worried about all the rough and weird people from the chess corner. I worried about men whose language I didn't even speak having their way with me. Earlier when we walked in, I had seen some immigrants from Africa who had recently shown up at a shelter. They spoke a foreign African language and acted very out of place, very skinny and tall man with rushed, big white eyes. They lingered in the park for hours because they didn't seem to have jobs or know what to do.

Probably, half an hour had passed with nothing happening. The tension had worn off. I was simply lying naked in a well-hidden place. People passed nearby. Nobody seemed to notice or know about me. There was a loud punk concert going on nearby. The noise also made me feel more hidden. Yet there was a mix of boredom and unspeakable tension. Part of my mind was sure that nobody would find me and that people would be too polite. Yet then I'd hear a sound and get startled out of my bones until I realized that it was simply a squirrel jumping from the tree into the bush.

Then it happened. The sound of plants breaking was heavier. I knew that a person was coming close. The person was really close but didn't seem to notice me. I heard a zipper. Then I heard the stream of piss angrily sprinkling the bush branches. The stream was strong. The homeless tend to have these very strong streams. It was definitely one of these people who cared so little to fit into society to not even walk to the nearby restroom. Then there was the pause in the pissing sound. I knew that I had been spotted. I knew that he was looking at me. The stream continued. The steps left hurried like he was going to tell his pals.

The voices at the chess square grew a bit louder, I heard the word "puta" called out loudly. My discoverer seemed to argue vehemently for his point while the others wanted to dismiss him. Then they walked over. The five of them were pretty close. They looked me over. They were the kind of panhandlers who walked around the subway asking for a dollar. They didn't seem scared by me. They felt at ease. They always felt at ease asking for money. They were used to not giving a fuck. One of them started pulling on my ropes. When he felt how firm they were, he said something that sounded like he was sure I wasn't going to go anywhere.

They left. I was by myself for a while. A young college couple that looked like punks living in the street came by to look at me. They had a demeanor like they were told about me and were curious to find out if it was true. He looked straight at my pussy to inspect how well-shaven it was. She hit him on the arm for staring too much. They walked away. I had the sense that word spread about the naked woman in the bushes.

I don't know how to paint it out for you. All the characters that I described in the beginning came out to watch at me and entertain themselves. Mostly, they dove through the bushes to see but stayed at a polite distance. Someone dared taking a look at the condom brands and remarked that they included XL size. I can't really recall all the vivid details, but I felt so helpless and also relaxed as people came to watch me. I think the relaxed came from me being unable to do anything about it. It simply happened that they'd look me up and down, see me naked, and walk away.

A gray-haired retired handyman with stubby fingers squeezed my nipples to try them out. A pink-haired punk girl with a black mini-skirt and over-the-knee black leather boots took out a sharpy and wrote on my belly: "So proud of your courage, unknown girl!" The more people seemed to talk out in the park about me, the more people came with very lusty eyes.

After a couple of hours, black African immigrants came, unfamiliar with local customs, they quickly pulled down their pants. Their bodies were skinny and tall. Their penises were pencil-like and long. The brushed their penises to make them grow harder. They seemed rushed, like they quickly wanted to get it going on. They took a last look around before they seemed to make their decision to plunge down on me.

That moment, my Owner broke through the push. He quickly cut the ropes with safety shears. He threw what he could grab into the gym bag. Then he wrapped me in my trench coat without even putting it on. He threw my whole body over his right shoulder and quickly carried me away. He had wanted to let me have a taste and to feel like it was real without ever getting me in harm's way. I hugged my arms to his body as he carried me down the streets through the light of dusk.