The Bar

Panting as I'm so scared and excited, I begin to stare forward, knowing that the men can see me now. They probably noticed the moment I started walking over to this chair. I know this because in the corner of my vision I see all stopping and looking at me.

As I sit here, I can feel my excitement build and build. It's reaching an embarrassing level where I fear it's about to show by dripping off the chair. Never have I wanted to touch myself as I do now. To let both hands wander all over my body, touching, groping, squeezing and even slapping as wanted.

Suddenly a flash goes off, causing me to turn and look towards it. It's from beyond the pool table, where one of the men is taking pictures of me. Seeing this, the oddest moment of my life happens...I cum.

I hadn't felt the orgasm building inside of me, the way it was zooming upward, but now I do. With that last piece of humiliation, it is unleashed, making powerful waves of pleasure move over me. Each one forces its way over me, making me feel that I'm enjoying this. Forcing it down my throat so to speak. And like the few times that I've truly orgasmed, I can't hide it.

My eyes close as wave after wave moves over me. It makes me squirm and jerk in my chair, but with my legs up on the arms, it makes me feel trapped, which makes my orgasm even more intense. Moans come out of me, loud ones, which no doubt captures everyone's attention. There'll be no way of pretending that a naked, helpless woman isn't in this corner, nor that she's orgasming.

I'm not sure how long my orgasm lasts as it sends my drunken mind into outer space for a bit. All I see is white as powerful waves of joy move over me, wanting me to be fucked hard and forcefully. To be taken and put on a stage in front of the world, where they can see the new me.

When the orgasm fades, I find myself sweating and still in the chair, the entire bar looking at me. My embarrassment and humiliation is so extreme, but something about it is comforting. Like I am finally admitting that I like such feelings. That I am enjoying this.

Panting, I look at the bartender, expecting her to tell me I can go now, but her attention isn't on me. Instead, she's talking to some patron of this dive bar. It's a middle aged man with his back to me wearing a blue work shirt, the type that has your name on it. He is clearly asking her a question to which she is sternly looking at him.

The bartender then motions to me and does a sarcastic, "have at it" move. The man looks back at me and then smiles wide before turning back to the bartender. He then slaps the bar, where I think he left money on the bar.

The middle aged man turns and begins walking towards me, sending my fear and arousal through the roof. My body tenses again, even if I just came, where I'm scared of what he's about to do. A man is coming towards me like this, where I feel I can't move. That I'm stuck like this and he could do whatever he wants.

Only, the guy stops about six feet from me. He's close enough I can see the whites of his eyes, but far enough away that I can't read the name on his shirt due to how dim it is. Whomever he is, he takes out his cell phone and aims it at me.

I give him a "please, don't" look when he does this, but it's already too late. A flash goes off from his cell, letting everyone know he's just taken a picture. And lucky for him, I was looking right at him when he did, making sure that my face was captured.

Humiliated even more, I lower my head as he continues to take his pictures. I make sure to stay in the same pose, my legs over the chair legs, my pussy nice and open and on display. Not to mention how I still stick my tits out by arching my back. I do this all for whomever this man is, ruining my self-respect for him because of a stern woman.

"She the entertainment or something?" A large man asks very loudly. I turn to see a man walk up to the bar as he enters the bar, not having any clue about what's happening. He's looking at me as well, but asks his question to the bartender as he walks up to her.

"Nope. Just a dumb cunt that needs to learn a lesson," the bartender answers in her no-nonsense manner while stacking beer glasses on a shelf.

"So, she's just supposed to sit there? Not a whore to fuck or anything?" The new man asks as the bartender fixes him a beer. His eyes are directly on me as the other man continues to take picture after picture of me like this. By now he has to have at least twenty of them.

"This ain't the Best Whorehouse in Texas, Bud. She's just taking her punishment like she should. Now you can look at the dumb bitch, but don't be trying to do anything more," the bartender tells him in her stern manner.

Hearing this shocks me a bit. For a moment I was about to freak out, thinking she was literally going to sell me for sex. Now I see she isn't. That on some level she is looking out for me, even if it is on some perverse, evil level. It makes me feel somewhat better knowing she isn't going to let me get gangraped and beaten.

"Damn. Wouldn't mind a piece of that. I'll happily pay for it, too," the large man states after getting his beer. He turns and faces me, enjoying the show that I'm putting on by just sitting here.

My attention is so focused on the new guy that I didn't notice another man has moved up and is taking pictures as well. He stands somewhat behind the first guy, who is now examining his pictures. I guess the pics are good because he turns around while smiling to walk back to his part of the bar. The new picture taker only takes a few pictures before walking away, making it seem like he didn't want to be the only one doing it.

"Hipster bitch, come here," the bartender calls out several minutes later. Still feeling drunk and in a daze, I timidly remove my feet from the arms of the chair, where they feel tingly. I'm not sure if my legs feel asleep or if the tingles of my womanhood have spread down. In any case, it takes me a moment, but I do stand up, my naked body still feeling so helpless as I put my hands behind my back.

Standing in the corner where everyone still looks at me, I come to realize yet another truth. I don't feel like myself at all. I feel, well, I dunno. It's hard to explain, but I don't feel like who I am. I feel, new, unchained and in a way, free.

I have no clue what is about to happen, or if anything more is going to happen...and I don't care. In a weird way, I don't care what happens at all. If the entire bar holds me down and fucks me, or if I'm told to get out. All I do care about...is doing what I'm told by the bartender.

"Come on, hurry up," the bartender tells me, motioning for me as if I'm taking too long. I then notice that she's cleared a space on the bar. The top of the bar was covered with bar stuffs, like the glass jars where you put your tips, napkin holders, stacks of coasters and more, but now she's cleared a chunk of the bar so there's nothing there.

"Come on, come on," the bartender states annoyed as she stands behind the cleared out section. I keep walking towards her, feeling how unsteady I am due to being so drunk.

"Put this between your tits and hold it," the bartender tells me after pouring a shot of tequila.

Confused, I look at the glass for a moment, my drunk brain not understanding. Does she mean pour it over my breasts? That's...different. Or wait, she said hold it. Hold it between my tits.

Lowering my hand I grab the shot glass, half tempted to shoot it. But, doing as I'm told I bring it towards my chest. This puts me in yet another daze as doing this makes the situation feel so real again. Where I have to use my left hand to grab my left boob and pull it to the side so I can place the shot glass between my tits.

Staring at my exposed breasts, I then use both hands to push my tits together. This keeps the shot glass in place, but also almost swallows the glass as my breasts are so large. Needless to say, it's a weird feeling to feel the hard shot glass pressed there.

"Pay first, Asshole," the bartender orders in her stern mother tone as a man hurriedly comes around to my side of the bar. The young man is very excited, like he doesn't want to miss out, but he does stop at the sound of the bartender's voice. He then quickly pulls out a bill and slaps it down on the bar as if his life depends on how fast he does it. I don't think he even looked at what bill it is.

"Keep holding that shot for him to take," the bartender orders, where our eyes meet. She gives me a stern look as well, warning me not to disobey. That I'm to let this man do...something.

I let out a loud gasp as the man lunges at me. Yet I'm so drunk and surprised that I don't do anything but tense up when he does. My eyes close and I press my tits together even harder as I jerk.

A deep and powerful humiliation moves over me, going downward to settle between my legs at the feeling of what he does. It feels so strong and powerful I'm surprised my womanhood isn't dripping nonstop. For the asshole redneck is burying his face in my cleavage. His entire face is pressed against my breasts, where he shakes it back and forth comically, motorboating me.

Embarrassed and humiliated, I stand as I am, letting him do this. I then look at the bartender, thinking she would do or say something, but she just shrugs and takes the money the man put on the counter. She walks off as the man continues to shake his face back and forth in my cleavage. There's no attempt to get the shot at all. Instead, I feel his open mouth moving around, his tongue licking all over.

"I can't get it...." The man laughs, as if saying the reason why he's taking so long. I then let out a loud, high pitched yelp when he grabs my bare ass with both hands. He grabs hold of my ass cheeks, squeezing as he does while burying his face against my breasts even harder. And as he does, my hands feel trapped to keep pushing my tits together as he slobbers all over them.

"Ah ha!" the man laughs and steps back, finally pulling the shot glass from my cleavage. His head shoots back where he takes all of the tequila without the use of his hands. Only, he's still grabbing my ass as he does this, his body practically pressed against mine.

He stands there for a moment, pressed against me while swallowing the tequila as it must be pooling in his mouth. Then I feel him let go of my ass, his hands trailing over my bare skin. They move around to my hips slowly and softly, clearly trying not to get caught with what he's trying to do. With the attention on his trying to swallow all the liquor, the bartender won't see his hands or where they are about to touch.

I gasp and then moan as his right hand moves all the way around and moves between my legs. His fingers move upward, where they press against my pussy for the briefest of moments before he pulls away. They scrape over my womanhood, no doubt feeling how wet I am before letting go.

Looking happier than what should be possible, the man uses his hand to take the shot glass out of his mouth and place it back on the bar. He then smiles a very perverted but happy smile to the bartender.

"You know, you disgust me," the bartender tells him as he walks off, but it's in a friendly manner. Like it is true, but she doesn't mind. The guy laughs at this, showing he doesn't take it in any negative manner.

As the man walks off, I look down at my bare chest to see his slobber all over my cleavage. I'm still pushing my tits together, which makes them look even larger. For some reason, my nipples seem even harder than they were, to the point it's almost painful. I wish that someone, anyone would come over and pinch them, maybe even pull them some.

Looking towards the bartender, I see she's preparing some drink, so her attention isn't on me. Still in my sexual daze, I just stand here, waiting to be told by her what to do. I don't even bother to let go of my tits, finding I sort of like the embarrassment of pushing them together.

Another man approaches the bar now, a very short man. He looks at me when he does, but then gives his attention to the bartender as she fixes whatever drink. The man then leans in and says something to her, speaking extremely soft so I can't hear.

"Come on, that's stupid," the bartender tells the new man. The new man only laughs as if to say he knows it is stupid. But he looks hopeful at the bartender as he makes the 'money' motion with his fingers, acting like her word is law in this place. It's somewhat surprising to see as she's the only other woman here, yet all the guys know she is in charge.

With a sigh, the bartender rolls her eyes. She then does a motion with her hand that clearly means for him to pay her. At this the man becomes very giddy. His giddiness is accented by the fact he is so short. In fact, I think I'm taller than he is, not that there's anything wrong with being short.

"Get over here Hipster Bitch," the bartender tells me after the man puts many bills in her hand. She takes a moment to thumb though the bills, checking how much he gave her. Whatever the amount, it seems to be enough.

Swaying, I walk up to the bar again, still holding my tits. I try to stay emotionless, otherwise I think I would betray how I feel at the moment. How every tiny movement of my bared body makes me hotter. How I can't believe so many strangers are looking at me.

"Sit," the bartender says, only she pats the empty section of the bar.

I look at her, not fully understanding what she means. She pats the hard wood of the bar again, making it seem like I'm to hop up on the actual bar. Gasping once I figure this, I look at her a bit shocked. She just nods with a smirk as if knowing how embarrassing this is going to be.

My heart pounding, I turn around and put my back to the bar. Not believing I am doing this, I use my hands to lift my entire body up and onto the bar. My bare bottom makes contact with the bar once I sit, where I feel even more humiliated than I believe possible.

"Alright, spread those legs. Yeah, put one on each barstool. Then put your hands on your head," the bartender tells me, directing me the way she wants me to sit.

Moving slow, I do as she says, lifting my right foot to the barstool on my right. Then, with a red face I put my left foot on the barstool to my left so my legs are nice and spread again. Unable to help it, I look down to see my exposed womanhood, out and helpless again.

"Here," the bartender says, and when I turn to look at her, she lifts a bottle towards my lips. It's a tequila bottle, complete with the metal sippy thing at the end. As it gets closer to my face, I lift both hands and place them on top of my head.

The bartender doesn't put the bottle to my lips, which is what I thought she was doing. Instead she holds it several inches in front of me. I then see the short man move in front of me. He smiles a wide, knowing smile, as if he knows something I don't.

Shame and humiliation flood into me as I watch as his eyes drift downward, to between my legs. There I see him stare at my pussy, to which I can't do anything to stop him. His head even tilts in one direction as he looks at it, almost like he's judging me. It's enough to make me want to press my legs together. Either that or force his head between my legs and make him start to please me.

"Sit up straight. And you, get in position. You better catch it all. I don't want to have to mop the fucking floor because of your dumb ass," the bartender scolds the man, who finally looks away from my womanhood. His eyes turn to look at the bartender, where he gives a sort of "don't worry" motion.

I do as I'm told and sit up straight, my chest being pushed out as if offering my tits to this stranger. That's when the man kneels and I think he really is about to start pleasing my pussy. Not expecting this, I tense up more as his head moves closer and closer to my pussy.

The bartender then pours the tequila, where it lands on my left breast, right in the middle of my boob. The tequila pours out, running down my breast where it drips off. Under me the man kneels with his mouth wide open, trying to catch the tequila falling off my boob. He fails horribly, with the booze going all over his face, not that he minds. He laughs and gets as much as he can, moving his mouth closer and closer to my tit as he tries.

The bartender switches to my right tit after a little bit and the man happily moves over. She switches every ten seconds or so, coating my tits in tequila. Letting it drip down onto the man. The man eagerly catches as much as he can while I sit with my hands on my head.

Again the humiliation makes me want to orgasm again. To be treated like an object on display instead of a respected woman is just so intoxicating. Especially when I feel drops of the tequila drip down and end up between my legs. Where I feel it so close to my womanhood, where it basically begs the man to lick.

The humiliation makes me so insanely aroused that I don't scream or even hit the guy when he moves further and further up until his mouth is on my right nipple. A moan comes out of me as the man sucks on my hard nipple, his tongue flicking over it hard as the bartender keeps pouring. His tongue wagging then turns into him sucking my tit, making me think of a hungry baby.

"Hey!" the bartender protests upon seeing him sucking my nipple, hitting the man with the tequila bottle. Granted, she doesn't hit hard, but it's hard enough that the man stops. At this he laughs and wipes his face as he stands up, proud of himself.

The man walks away, leaving me aching with arousal as I continue to stick my now wet tits out. He moves back to his friends a conquering hero, while I'm left here, covered in booze and wanting so bad for more. For him to at least suck my other nipple.

"Alright, Hipster bitch, you can get down. I think you have learned your lesson," the bartender says after a moment. I turn my head to look at her, my body so hot I wonder if the tequila will turn to stream.

"If I do anymore, something bad may happen to-" the bartender says with some hint of sympathy, but then a man interrupts by saying "Hey."

The bartender and I both turn to look at the owner of the voice, which is from a father large man on the other end of the bar. This man, who towers over the bartender, waves an empty beer bottle as if to say he wants another. His eyes then calmly look me over as I sit on top of the bar.

"Hey, want another?" The bartender asks as she walks to him. Left alone, I slowly climb down off the bar, both excited and deeply heartbroken that this experience is ending. That the bartender isn't going to do more. I guess I don't blame her, at least in a way. If it goes much further, who knows what might happen.

Now standing, I look at my naked body. I don't think I've ever looked sexier. My body is wet from the pouring booze, making it look somehow sexier. I see my skin seem to glow and reflect the dim lights in this bar, where I still can't believe I'm naked. Naked...in public.

"I dunno, that's...well, that's..." the bartender tells the new man as they seem to be talking about something. Hearing the bartender's concerned tone makes me look at her, to which she looks back at me sheepishly.

"It's going too far. I mean, I could really get in trouble," I overhear the bartender say and I know it's regarding something about me. A thin wave of fear moves over me at the sound of it. For if it worries her, then it can't be good.

"You serious? That...that could pay the bills for a long while," the bartender says, her tone going low and deep while she talks to the guy. The man doesn't really respond to this, but looks down at her with his own intensity.

"I...I..." I hear the bartender say, showing she is really considering whatever he has proposed. I take this chance to look around the bar, where everyone is still looking at the same thing I am. Everyone seems focused on the bartender and the new guy, as if wanting to see what happens.