Monique's Needs

Mike picked up the stun gun from the floor and brought it into contact with the metal of the but plug. He waited as his orgasm built. He moaned. There was fear. He assumed the latex of the condom would shield him from most of the shock, but he could only imagine what would happen to Monique's body. Would she thrash? Would her pussy lock down on him from the shock? Would she wet herself? He really didn't know and he doubted that the company that manufactured the stun gun had bothered to test the effect on an inserted but plug.

He groaned as his orgasm began to pour waves of sticky ejaculate into the reservoir of the condom. Mike pushed the button and an angry crackle of electricity connected with the but plug.

As Monique felt him stiffen, suddenly there was an incredible sensation. Her ass exploded with fiery pain and her muscles from her thighs to her stomach all cramped and tightened at once, a spasm that hit at the same time as her orgasm. Monique screamed with both pleasure and pain, frozen into immobility, feeling like a red hot poker had been shoved up her ass at the same time that her pussy clenched tightly around the ribbed condom. Her body trembled, she thrashed like a fish on a line, and she could feel the orgasm fight with the pain and cramps, a heady mix. Unbeknownst to her, her pussy was squirting all over him, moisture splattering from her, a mix of the most intense come she had ever had and a slight loss of bladder control.

When the spark ignited Mike felt a slight tingle at the base of his cock but the sensation was nothing compared to the unnatural clenching of Monique's pussy around his member. His orgasm intensified and he kept the button on the stun gun depressed until his orgasm had poured out of him. He depressed the button and became aware of the unusual wetness puddling on the floor.

When it finally finished she could only dangle limply, covered in perspiration, still impaled on his softening cock, shaking like a leaf.

"Wh... what...?" she managed to force out of her drooling mouth.

Mike took a moment, breathing hard. His cock softened. He pushed Monique off of his lap, lowering her with something approaching care. With her hands behind her back, she could not protect her face as she moved forward. Mike leveraged her so that she landed ass up and breasts resting in the puddle left by her climax. Mike didn't bother to hold the base of the condom as he manoeuvred Monique and the condom, slipping easily from his cock, was left inside of the helpless woman.

Monique collapsed to the floor, groaning, feeling spent, as her head hit the cool tiles. Behind her she could see Mike stand up and start to dress again.

"Not bad," he said. "You certainly know how to work that black ass." He crouched down and tapped the stun gun on the jewel of the but plug. "I didn't know what to expect," he said, "but I think we just found your new favourite dildo," Mike chuckled as he pushed the shaft-shaped stun gun into Monique's gaping cunt. He considered pushing the button to watch what would happen, but he opted to let Monique experiment on her own. She whimpered and tensed as she felt him place the barrel of the stun baton into her wet and drooling pussy, expecting to be shocked again, but he let her be, and she relaxed once more.

Mike reached down to collect his tie but found it damp and decided to leave it. "I'm going to go back out, have a couple drinks, and head home with the guys," he said. "I think you should stay here for a couple hours and think about what just happened and what a mess you have made of yourself." He unbuckled his belt from around Monique's arms and threaded it through the loops of his dress pants. She sighed with blessed relief as her shoulders were allowed to move back into place. She wearily moved her hands down until her palms were resting flat on the floor, still lying there with her ass in the air, feeling pins and needles as the circulation returned to her arms.

"Mike..." she groaned, before he left. "Thank you. We should... do this again." A conventional enough way of ending a 'date', but from the undignified position she lay in, it felt unbearably stupid and ridiculous to say it. Still, Monique had found the experience so powerfully erotic that she was desperate to do it again, and so far Mike appeared to be the only man she had ever met willing to go as far as she needed him to, and she wasn't about to let him go without letting him know that.

She sighed as he exited the bathroom stall without replying. She didn't know how long she would have until the old restroom attendant started allowing people back in - would he allow her a few minutes to make a dignified exit? Still, she needed a while to collect herself. She toppled over on her side, and looked down at her purple breasts still bulging from the taut ties, the weals from Mike's belt still dark and angry on them. She fumbled for the knots, grunting with the effort, finally managing to loosen them and letting out an "aaaahhhhh" of pain as the blood began to flow back into her tormented orbs. With the wet ties loosened, she reached behind herself and tugged the slick, used condom from her pussy. Bringing it up to her face, she upended it over her mouth, and let Mike's warm sperm dribble into her mouth, making sure that she took every drop before swallowing it, enjoying as always the creamy taste, with that little acrid hint of bleach. She was tempted to reach behind herself and shock herself again with the stun gun, but decided that maybe she had had enough for one evening, and settled for removing it from its sticky home.

She sat up in the stall and looked down at herself. She was a mess - her breasts were covered with drool, her stockings were covered in runs and wet with her own emissions. She unclipped them and rolled them down her legs, taking her shoes off then putting them back on again once her stockings were removed. Outside she collected her discarded bra and panties, and rolled them and the stockings into a ball, and used them as a makeshift towel to wipe herself down. She stank of sweat and sex, but there wasn't much she could do about that. She rolled her skirt back down her now bare legs and smoothed it down - it hadn't come off too badly, and she retrieved the blouse from where it lay by the toilet. It had a couple of damp patches on that she grimaced at, but she slipped it back on and buttoned it up over her now bare breasts. She flushed the condom down the toilet.

She picked up her phone, keys and other items from the floor, but no longer had a bag to put them in. There was a little clear plastic bag that had been in her handbag - the kind they give you at airports for liquid items - which had to make do as a carryall. Then she staggered wearily out to the sinks and washed herself as best she could, drying herself and her blouse under the hand dryer. The mirror showed her face was a complete mess, and she had to wash off the smeared and running makeup and reapply lipstick. Her bra, panties and stockings she left in the trash. She felt utterly used, and utterly content as she finally left the restroom and headed for the back door. It was time to go home.