Tuesday

You wait a moment and see if he'll acknowledge you.

The machine clicks and rattles as it spews out a long white strip of paper for him. He doesn't look in your direction.

You shuffle your feet, embarrassed. He was just violently intimate with you. Now it's like you don't exist.

You feel a flush run down your body. This is humiliating.

He glances in your direction then points over to the corner.

'Bathrooms over there. Get moving. I'm locking up in fifteen minutes.'

That takes the wind out of you. You stare at him as he continues to ignore you and do his count. Hurt, you turn towards the bathroom and walk in the door of the ladies room.

It's dingy and dark in here and you wish you'd put on your shoes first because the floor is a little sticky. You wander over to the mirror and look into it over the greyish sink.

Your face is puffy and flushed and shiny from where his seed splashed across your skin. You feel disgusting just looking at it. Abruptly you turn the water on and splash searing liquid across your face and try to scrub away this humiliation.

You can't believe he did this to you. Tied you up, stripped you naked, played with you and gagged you and used your mouth with...

You feel queasy for a moment. Your tummy does a little flip flop as you recall the last hour of violation and shame. You try and suppress the feeling, but you can't.

Are you angry that he used you so brutally?

Or are you angry that he stopped?

You look in the mirror at the pale, confused and aching girl in the mirror. She looks straight back at you with no compromise. Her eyes still look hungry, so very, very hungry.

'Are you done washing up?'

You jump, startled at the sudden words. Padraic leans against the door that he somehow silently opened as you tried to process what happened. His bored look has returned, and you hate him just a little bit right now.

You glare at him for a moment and then snap at him.

'Can I get a little privacy?' You say fiercely and then turn back to the mirror.

You hear a dry laugh, and then he walks towards you and slides behind you in the tiny bathroom. His hand casually slips into the long dark swath of your hair and twists it around until your feel it yank on your scalp hard and you're pulled back against him with a little squeal. His other free hand slips around you and yanks down the lacy black cup of your bra. Tough, calloused fingers seize your suddenly hard nipple and twist and pull it up until you stand on your tip toes.

He twists the nipple hard until you emit a little animal squeak. Any resistance or anger drains out of you, replaced with fear and searing adrenaline that snaps you out of your befuddlement.

Christ he's mean. Actually, he's more than mean, he's vicious. He hurts you casually and just brooks no resistance from you.

And as you stand on your tip toes and emit frightened little animal sounds you realize that you're even more aroused than before.

This is so wrong. This is beyond wrong. No person should want this.

But as he holds you there, wobbling on your toes, you glance at the mirror again. The tiny little girl grimacing in pain looks back at you. But the hunger is gone from her eyes now. It's been driven away by lust.

'Still feel like mouthing off?' He says casually.

'No... no sir!' You whimper to him.

Abruptly he releases your nipple and hair and you collapse forward onto the counter clutching at your now throbbing nipple.

You lay there for a moment, and then you feel him unzip his pants again.

'Spread.' He orders you. You look up at him in the mirror and his eyes are hard.

You swallow and then spread your legs open. You feel his manhood nudge against you and then he pushes inside you. You're so aroused by his manhandling of you that he's deep inside you in just seconds.

You gasp like a fish as he impales you. He's thick and a little longer than average.

The counter is surprisingly cold on your cheek as you lay there and feel him penetrate you deeply and with little concern for you. Your fingers tremble on the counter in front of your face. His hand grips your hair again and he yanks you back up against him so that your back is pressed into his chest and you have to stand on your tip toes again to accommodate the difference in height between you.

'I'm gonna fuck you now. Don't you dare fucking come. Got it?'

He has to be kidding. He's insane! You're impaled on him, aching with need, processing humiliation after humiliation and the after effects of harsh restraint and he wants you not to have an orgasm?!

You look into the mirror at his hard face and harder eyes and you know that he's not joking.

'Yes sir.' You say in a tiny little voice.

He presses your face back onto the grimy counter next to the sink. His hand grips your hair and holds you in place. His member starts pounding into you relentlessly.

You feel the explosion building in you. You fight it. You don't know what he'll do to you if you disobey him but you're certain that he'll make you regret it. You sink your teeth into your lip and bite down hard. You twist your own nipple, you buck and try and keep him from directly stimulating your own clitoris.

Eight, long, hard, sweaty, exhausting and painful minutes pass. Finally you feel him tense up and you feel a warm sensation inside you.

You tremble as you realize that for the first time in years, someone other than your husband just came inside you. As you lie on the counter and pant you get the taste of copper on your tongue. Apparently you've bitten your own lip so hard that you're bleeding a little.

He slides out of you and you're thankful. Not that he's finished, but that he's going to stop stimulating you. You nearly failed him a couple of times and only vicious twists on your now incredibly sensitive nipples kept that at bay.

'Clean me off girl.' He growls.

You groan and then pull yourself up off the counter. It takes more effort than you expect and you feel weak in the knees. You slowly crouch down until you're face is level with his pelvis and his member is resting against your cheek.

You look up at this ruthless, cruel bastard with wide, awestruck eyes. He doesn't give one fuck about your needs or wants. He just takes from you. He takes and punishes and violates and shames you.

Where has he been? Why did it take you this long to find him?

'Get to it girl.' He snarls at you.

You hesitate for a moment, and then you open your mouth and take his still mostly erect penis inside your mouth. You taste your own passion mixed with his seed and you carefully run your tongue up and down the thick, hot shaft of flesh.

It only takes a few moments to lick him clean, but you make sure that you do a good job. This vicious man intimidates you, and you're certain that he's just looking for an excuse to do other more cruel things to you.

'Enough.' He says gruffly and he slips his member back inside his faded blue jeans. You look up at him with trepidation and slowly rise to a standing position. The back of your hand wipes away saliva and small drops of semen that he smeared across your face yet again.

'What are you doing?' He says with a growl.

You look away, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. His hand grabs your chin and forces you to look him in his greyish blue eyes. He stares you down hard and you finally break and ask what you did wrong.

He points at the floor. While you were cleaning him with your tongue, a small pool of his semen dripped out of you to make a couple of tiny puddles on the floor. You look down at them in confusion and then he crushes you with three little words.

'Lick. It. Up.' He snarls.

You cringe and try to shrink inside yourself. This can't be happening. He can't really want you to lick his semen off a dirty floor.

He sees your horrified hesitation and then says the words that make you realize that whoever this sadist is, he owns you now.

'Don't make me ask you twice girl.' He threatens you.

You nod obediently, and only the lone tear that trickles down your cheek reveals your revulsion. You drop to your knees, press your face to the floor and you begin lapping up warm semen mixed with your own moisture from the dirty bathroom floor.

And as you do so, you are intensely aware of how your own body betrays you by becoming beyond aroused. Your insides are so slick that you're afraid you might start to drip.

The floor is gritty and cold and disgusting. The little pools of semen are bitter and thick and hard to lick up. You think this can't possibly be any more degrading until he kneels down in front of you and takes a couple of pictures with his cellphone of you cleaning semen off his bathroom floor with your tongue.

When you're finished, you're so appalled that you can't even stand up. You just press your forehead to the filthy floor and try not to let him see you cry.

Nothing you have ever done has been this disgusting or shameful or degrading. He's completely obliterated every shred of self respect you have.

'You can come and see me in the lounge when you finish blubbering.' He says casually. The door drifts shut behind him and you're left alone in the dirty bathroom with the surprisingly clean small section of floor.

You don't understand why you can't resist him. Every time he speaks to you, you feel mesmerized. You can feel his reckless arrogance radiating from him and his words carry a tone of absolute authority that you can't help but to submit to. And you know now that when he was sizing you up earlier and he started playing with you he was watching you and your body react and you told him as plainly as writing specific instructions what your weak points were and how he could bend you to his will.

And worst of all, on some level you're thrilled about this. You feel exhausted and degraded and disgusting, but that driving, intense hunger has vanished.

Now you just want sleep.

But he wants to see you. And he wants to lock up. So you force yourself to stop crying, wipe away your tears and slip into your clothes. You check the mirror quickly and wipe away some streaks of grime from your unorthodox floor cleaning method.

Finally, you flip your hair over your shoulder and head back out into the lounge.

He's sitting at a lone table in middle of the room. His long legs are stretched out and he's watching a TV again with another glass of black beer next to him. The bag with your handcuffs and the new vibrator sit on the table waiting for you.

That would have been incredibly embarrassing a few hours ago. Now it barely registers.

Another leather satchel sits next to the plastic bag. You don't know why it's there. A small shot glass filled with clear liquid sits next to both bags.

You approach the table. He looks up at you and gestures at the chair beside him.

'Sit.' He instructs you. You do.

'Drink this.' He orders you. You look down at the shot glass and back at him.

'What is it?'

'It's Peppermint schnapps. I thought you might have a bad taste in your mouth.'

You look down at the table then pick up the glass and toss down the strong and intensely flavoured liquid. It burns on the way down and you shudder, but it does take the foul taste of the bathroom floor out of your mouth.

'I close on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Pick one and that's your night.'

'What do you mean?' You don't know what he wants.

He turns and looks at you with annoyance. You flush involuntarily.

'You just spent two hours getting defiled by me. You didn't scream or run away or try to call the police. You just took it. Clearly I have something you want. I'm moderately interested in playing with you and training you. Pick your day.'

'How do you know I'll come back?' You ask him.

He rolls his eyes and gives you that look again. He knows you're coming back and so do you.

'Tuesday. I... I can come on Tuesdays.' You say quietly.

'Be here at 11 pm. We'll start when I'm ready to start. Make sure you have an excuse for your husband while you're slutting around with me.'

'But how...?' You stammer. He's done incredibly degrading things to you but you've barely talked to him at all about anything.

He leans forward and taps your wedding ring. You blush and feel like an idiot.

'The bag has stuff that you'll need for next week. I recommend you use that equipment. Start with the little pink one and when you come back next week you should have the fat black one inserted.'

You peek inside the bag. A small pink, a medium blue and a large back anal plug sit in the bag along with a bag of lube and a couple of disposable enema kits.

'But... I never... I mean I... I don't...' you stammer as you look at the deeply intimidating toys.

'You've never taken it in the ass girl?' He asks calmly.

'No. No I never have.' You say in a tiny voice.

'Well then, next week will be a brand new experience for you then.'

You look into the bag again and then look back at him in terror.

'I don't think I can use... these. Sir.' You plead with him.

'You don't have to use any of them.' He says with a shrug. 'But next week I am going to strap you down over something and fuck you in your asshole. And you are going to lick me clean when I finish. So it's up to you as to how painful and disgusting that will be.'

You shudder. God he's cruel.

'Oh, and you don't masturbate any more. You don't have any orgasms but the ones that I allow you to have.' He says calmly.

'What?' You squeak. That was the only way you could get through tonight, the thought that as soon as you were out of range you could relieve yourself. Now he's just told you that you aren't allowed to do that anymore.

'But...' You protest and he cuts you off.

'Yeah, I know. I can't watch you twenty four hours a day. Do you think I'll be able to tell if you're lying to me though?'

Your mouth opens and closes. He seems to see right through you.

'What about my husband?'

'He can fuck you in any hole he chooses. You just aren't allowed to come then either. Oh and don't think you'll be cutting him off either. You're to give him as much sex as he wants as often as he wants it.'

'You... you can't... I can't...' Your brain won't even function right now. The thought of not climaxing as your husband makes love to you is maddening.

'You. I. We... shut up girl. You came to me. You clearly need what I have and these are the rules. Break them at your peril.'

You stare at him in horror. He's figured you out. He knows what you need and how badly you need to have it and he's using it to completely fuck with your mind. His sadism is pure and unrelenting. You're afraid of the things he's going to do to you, but you're even more afraid of making him angry now that you've found him.

He points at the door. You look at the glass pane and then back at Padraic.

'Get out girl. It's 2 am. I'm going to bed now.'

'Yes sir.' You say meekly. And you rise to your feet and walk with him to the doorway. He hands you both of the bags on the table and walks you outside.

You look at you car, then at him. You feel like you should do something.

You turn to him to say good night but he cuts you off.

'Open your mouth.' You hesitate for a second and then do what he tells you.

Padraic produces the soggy, slimy panties that he obviously plucked from his floor and stuffed into his pocket. You whimper quietly as he jams the disgusting and cold cloth into your mouth and causes you to gag.

'The next time you leave a pair of disgusting, wet panties on my floor, I'm gonna shove them into a different hole, and I'll shove them in really deep. Got it girl?'

You nod your head.

'Good. Go the fuck home. Leave that in your mouth until you pull into your driveway. Don't be late next Tuesday or you will regret it.'

You nod your head. The wet panties that he reinserted into your mouth make speech impossible now.

'Good. Now go home. I'm going to bed now.'

And he turns and walks through the door. You watch him lock it and then he walks back into the darkness of the bar and disappears.

You stand in the doorway for a moment, still too shell-shocked by everything that happened.

A while later, you're almost all the way home, running on autopilot as you get home on instinct and memory as you try and process everything that happened tonight and the ways that your life just changed. Your sensible sedan cruises into the driveway and you step outside the car and immediately pluck out the wet, gross underwear that he jammed into your mouth tonight and hurl it into the darkness.

You shudder. He's going to be hard to deal with. He makes little things into cruel torments. He doesn't hesitate to degrade or violate you and he's clearly able to read your body language and interpret what you want, don't want and are terrified of.

It's unfortunate that you're officially deeply obsessed with him now.

You sigh and wander into the house. Your gym bag gets dumped out into the laundry room and after a moments reflection you pull off all your other clothes and throw them into the washing machine. You hardly wore them but you keep remembering everything he did to you and they seem filthy.

You feel filthy. You quietly walk to the bathroom, flip on the water to a degree south of scalding and proceed to scrub yourself raw and pink. Finally, you slip out of the glass booth filled with steam and hot spray. You wrap a towel around yourself and slip into the bedroom where your husband lays sprawled in the bed, the sheets akimbo around him.

You slip the towel off and try to slip into bed naked without waking him. You were gone a long time and you feel incredibly guilty about what you just did.

You're just starting to settle when he stretches, rolls over and then half opens his sleepy eyes.

'Hey baby.' He says with a groggy smile. 'You were gone a while.'

'Sorry sweetie. I got carried away on the bike and then went and got a coffee. Just too wound up to come home.' You whisper the little lie to him.

'No biggie. I was just a little worried.' He mumbles groggily.

'Sorry baby. I should have called.' You murmur.

'Hey, if you're all wound up, we could, you know...'

You groan to yourself. The last thing you want to do right now is have another penis inside you when you can't come to a climax.

You start to scramble for an excuse or a reason to beg him off until tomorrow. Then to your horror, you remember what he told you.

'You just aren't allowed to come then either. Oh and don't think you'll be cutting him off either. You're to give him as much sex as he wants as often as he wants it.'

'Sure sweetie, I'd love to!' You say with your jaw clenched. You hope he'll take the hint.

He doesn't.

After a few minutes of foreplay and gentle loving kisses, he climbs on top of you and you spread your legs to accommodate him.

'Wow, you're really turned on!' He says as he slips inside you. He grins a huge smile at you.

You smile back and hope he'll be quick.

He's not.

He's still sleepy but he's good and hard and eager for your touch. You groan and try not to enjoy it but he knows you too well. He nibbles and kisses just the right areas and moves his hips in the way that he knows you love.

It's agony. You bite on your lip and push the palms of your hands into your eyes and you try to spread yourself wider than normal so you make less contact with him. None of it helps. He adores you and he loves having sex with you and he wants you to climax.

You run out of tricks. Your lip is raw and your head aches and your nipples throb from all the pain you've inflicted on yourself to fight it off. And he's still on top of you, thrusting away and determined to see you come.

You play your last card.

'Please baby, please finish. I can't take any more...'

His lips find your neck, pushing you even closer to the brink. Those same lips trail down your neck, kiss the skin over your collarbones, work down to your now hyper stimulated breasts. His lips encircle your nipple and then he slowly, deliberately drags his teeth over your nipple.