Laundry Day

'Laundry Day', she sighed wishing the tax refund had cleared last week and the washer was fixed. She hated going to the laundromat, not only cause she had to get dressed and actually leave the house, but also because the laundromat was horrid. The smell of stale smoke still permeated the place despite the ban on smoking in public almost twenty years ago. 'How does a stench linger for that long'. It wasn't just the smell though, it was the judgment. There were two types of people there, either the lifers, the ones that didn't have their own washer and probably never would. They looked at her like she was some lost stuck up bitch, ok, so they were right, but they didn't have to give her the constant glares of jealousy and contempt.

The other types were the stuck up bitches that went to pick up their laundry from the service, the ones that could afford to have some one else wash the stains out of their panties for them. And then there was Dia, somewhere in between the two. Unaccepted by those that waited on their laundry, and looked down on by the laundry service people.

She went back to the getting dressed part of the trip and decided if it was going to be a miserable trip, it would be minimal effort on her part, she admired herself in the mirror for a moment, she looked hot, but no surprise, she always looked hot, 130 lbs, 5'10 and D cups were spectacular of course, but what set her apart was her long lustrous, deep purple hair, her pride and joy. Her nipples were hard, it almost seemed like a shame to cover her nudity.

'Minimal effort' she said to herself and slid into a white hoodie. She checked her ass making sure it was covered, barely, but enough, as long as she didn't bend over too much.

She arrived and carried the first basket in, lingerie. As expected, the normal dregs were there, checking her out as they always did, she could feel their eyes crawling over her. She looked at one, probably around seventy, unshaven wearing the typical uniform of the disenfranchised, jeans and a Steelers jacket, 'Go Steelers' she said to him hopefully.

'Mmmm' was all he said, making no effort to hide his gaze as his eyes traveled up and down her body.

And there it was, the first tinge of excitement, the humiliation of putting on a show for these lifers. Almost as if summoned from beyond a pair of her panties fell from the basket on to the floor.

They both looked at the panties, of course they were sexy white lace ones, nothing mundane every touched her pussy. They looked at each other and he leered, 'you dropped something there sweetie. '

'No shit' she thought as she answered sweetly, "oh thank you Sir.." she blinked, 'Sir, where the hell did that come from Dia' she asked herself. Decision time, she could squat down, knowing that the hoodie would rise up exposing her pussy to him, she could bend over, showing her ass to anyone behind her, of she could kneel on the disgusting floor in front of this man. 'In for a penny, in for a pound', a quick glance over her shoulder revealed the attendant, a dour middle aged woman already looking at her with disdain, just looking for an excuse to boot her out. She spun and bent over to pick them up. She felt her hoodie rise up and knew he was getting a look at everything she had. Her night job as a stripper kicked in and she wiggled her ass at him before retrieving them. She felt her face turn red as she stood back up, she was getting turned on.

"Mmmm" was all he said.

"Mmmm?" she asked him, a sultry drawl to the wordless exchange.

"Mmmm indeed Slut," the attendant added crisply from behind her causing her to jump in surprise and dump the entire basket of laundry on to the floor.

"Shit" Dia muttered while the Steelers fan started to grin.

"Slut," the attendant repeated, "coming in here, trying to give poor Harold a heart attack."

"I don't mind."

"Shush Harold," she looked at Dia, "why do you even have a basket of underwear, you sure as hell aren't wearing any right now. Are you?"

Dia turned red and avoided the woman's gaze, "I'll just pick-"

"I asked you a question young lady," the attendant interrupted her with a fierce intensity that made Dia's stomach flutter.

Dia looked at the woman and felt her pussy dampen and her face flush.

The woman made a point to loudly sniff the air, "no need to answer," the woman laughed at her. "Since you're all hell bent on showing yourself off, why don't you just give me the hoodie." It wasn't a question.

Dia bit her lip and nodded, she only gave a quick glance to the side to confirm that the other lifers in the laundromat were all staring intently at the exchange. The multitude of eyes only made her wetter. She grabbed the bottom of the sweatshirt and lifted it up slowly, first her pussy, the little purple ring in her clit shining in the artificial light. Next came her tummy, flat and firm. The hem of the hoodie caught her boobs for a second lifting them up before it released letting them bounce them back in to place. Her dark aureoles accentuated the matching purple nipple rings dangling from each of the nubs.

"I'll wash that for you," the horrid woman ordered holding her hand out. Dia nodded and handed the hoodie to her and watched in a mixture of terror and lust as the woman dumped it in a nearby washer and immediately turned the unit on, drenching the only clothes she had that were suitable to be worn in public. "Harold, I think Miss Purple here needs to show a little more restraint, don't you?"

Harold didn't know where this was going but he knew am opportunity was in front of him, "Mmmm" he nodded.

"Why don't you grab the belt from that little silk robe of hers and tie her hands behind her."

"How is this happening, this is the kind of stuff you read about on Literotica?"

"Hunny, you entered fantasy land the second you stepped out the door in your little hoodie and sneakers. Matter of fact, why don't you slip those off too and complete the look for me?"

Wordlessly Dia stepped out of her sneakers her feet touching the gritty floor for the first time, the cool uneven linoleum oddly contributing to her humiliation. Harold grabbed the robe and practically tore the belt out of it, securing one end of it around her crossed wrists. In a brief flash on inspiration he knotted the free end around her neck.

"Now," the woman continued, "I think you have some laundry to wash," she pointed towards the front of the store, "there's one up there that's open, why don't you fill it up. Harold?" she turned, "every the purple princess here gets down on her knees she's gonna have to get her pretty little cheek on the ground to pick her dirty panties up," the woman looked at Dia, "with her mouth," she said indirectly giving Dia another order. "I want you to smack her every time, ass, pussy, use your imagination Harold."

Dia breathed deep, she knew she was going to do it, she hadn't stopped them so far, they knew she wasn't going to now. Naked, bound, exposed and so utterly turned on, she let her arousal take control. She slid on to her knees and spread her legs wide. She bent over and felt herself open as her cheek hit the ground. She gasped as Harold landed his first swat directly on her pussy, a loud, wet splat echoing in the room causing her to gasp. Wantonly she reached her tongue out to pull the first pair of panties into her mouth reveling in the debauchery of her lewd show.

She stood back up and walked over to the washer that the woman had showed her, her own eyes downcast as she avoided the gazes of the leering lifers. Her nipples were painfully hard as she bent over to drop the panties into the washing machine. On the third trip she realized if she bent over far enough, she could graze her nipples against the cool metal of the washer. By the fifth trip, she was grinding those nipples against the gritty floor every time she bent over to grab yet another pair of her panties with her teeth. By the fifteenth trip her ass was red, her nipples clothes pinned, and she had cum twice from Harold's slaps on her unprotected pussy.

Dia looked at the attendant after she dropped the last pair of underwear into the washer. "Well look at you, aren't you a good girl." Dia came again, just from her words. "I think Harold here wants to fuck you, do you want Harold to fuck you?"

"Yes please," Dia begged.

...

Later that night as Dia lay in her bed frigging herself to yet another orgasm, her pussy raw from her ministrations, she channeled the moment when Harold grabbed the makeshift leash connecting her neck to her wrists. She remembered how wet she was when he entered her. She relived cleaning her juices mingled with his cum from his softening cock.... And God did she cum when she remembered the three baskets of laundry still unwashed in the back of her car.