Pleasuring a Woman

The bar closed early tonight, public custom giving way to a private party; Eve's role had changed little though: the bartender still needed to serve the drinks no matter who to or why. It was going to change pretty soon though; Mark had had that look in his eyes all evening. Eve did her best to swallow both excitement and resentment as she waited.

Then it happened.

"Party time!" Mark hollered. "Drag your ass out here, babe."

Eve sighed at his tone, but the eager looks on the guys' faces made her tingle. She wasn't sure if it was excitement or shame. No matter. Shame excited her anyway.

Eve took it slow sliding out from behind the bar. It was their first sustained glimpse of the barely-there skirt she was wearing. While the volume of revealed skin under the faded denim skirt was a perfect distraction, the shortness also afforded her the freedom of high vicious kicks.

She sashayed to the center of the dance-floor, the crowd surrounding her as she passed. Her muscles tensed, her breath brief and shallow. Hormones flooded her blood. Fight or flight. If they all jumped her at once, she'd have no chance, but they never did. But that wasn't the plan.

Mark pointed to the man in the front row. "Want to do her first? Break the ice?" he offered, grinning.

Eve didn't recognize the dude Mark pointed at. Maybe he was a new friend, maybe Mark's loser friends just blurred into each other. In any case, the guy nodded, taking two steps forward, closing the gap. He gripped her ponytail with one hand, putting the free hand on her shoulder to muscle her down to her knees.

Eve sailed with his quick moves until she was almost on her knees. Then she twisted, whipping her hair out of his grip, freeing her shoulder at the same time. In the moment of surprise, she slapped his arm away, chopped a kick into the side of his leg. Then a sweep of his astonished ankles and he was flat on his face. Her knee went to the small of his back, and he was trapped on his beer gut.

The rest of the assembled men laughed. None of them could take her, at least not alone. At least not if they didn't want to be publicly humiliated.

Mark never got tired of showing them that. Eve didn't either, if she was honest. And his friends didn't either; their moment of humiliation made hers all the sweeter for them. That was the best part. Mark liked showing off his girlfriend's fighting skills before making her helpless and vulnerable.

Eve was raising her arms in victory to the crowd when she felt Mark's hardness behind her. "Time to adjust the odds, make it fairer," he declared.

He twisted her arms behind her. In one practiced motion, cuffs shackled her wrists and elbows. The crowd clapped. Yanking her hair, he forced her down to her knees. As the crowd erupted with cheers and catcalls, he crouched down with a third pair of cuffs biting into her ankles. Finally, a steel chain connected ankles to wrists.

No more fighting.

The crowd closed in, some freeing their cocks, some sliding down their pants, others merely opening their flies. Mark gripped Eve by her elbow and hair, pivoting her knees to face the nearest dude.

She split her lips, allowing him to slide his length into her. His hand griped her earlobes, and he began to pump her head back and forth. He reached her throat, making the most of the opportunity to fuck her mouth. She kept up with the rhythm - sucking, licking, twirling. In no time at all, he climaxed. As he shuddered, he pulled out quickly, leaving a stream of cum from her tongue to her chin. She swallowed what she could in the seconds before Mark forcibly yanked her hair and pushed her face inches to the next guy.

"Show the cunt her fucking place," someone in the crowd yelled out in a sing-song Southern accent as the second man placed both hands behind her neck.

"Yeah, let's hear that again when it's your motherfucking cock between my teeth," Eve retorted.

The rest of the men laughed, at both of them. She was about to add another line but was gagged by the new cock.

The routine was easy to settle into. Each man waited patiently for his turn, eager to dominate her mouth and mark her with his personal cum.

None of them lasted long in the face of her oral skill. She was shackled on her knees, helpless to rise or fight, casually dragged on her restrained knees, shoved around, skirt hiked up, helpless to provide strategic coverage to her pussy or ass.

Time slowed down. She lost count. Images flooded her vision. Yet her sole thought was that these proud cocks were singularly ruled by the empire of her lips and tongue.

No wonder they crowned her the ultimate slut.

Some of them pulled out before they came. She consoled herself by displaying a crooked smile, filled with thoughts of their weak control. But they were obsessed with maximum humiliation, spreading sticky seeds on her blonde hair, twisted face, torn blouse. Some even shoot them like projectiles to reach her micro skirt and toned thighs. In the end, she was soaked with cum, as soaked as the suburban grass would be soaked with the sprinkler.

The heated urgency in her pulsing groin was impossible to ignore.

The party was over soon. One by one the guys all left, thanking Mark for letting them have fun with his slut.