Crystal kept fingering herself, and John made a point to drive slowly so that people passing by could get a good look. Crystal noticed them and couldn't stop masturbating, despite the unbearable humiliation. And yet, she was getting hotter and hotter. Was the humilation actually turning her on? Could that be?
"YES, IT IS," she saw in black letters on the dashboard, answering her unspoken question.
Crystal got closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm, breathing heavily. John rolled down her window so people could hear. But as her tension grew, he said, "Don't cum yet."
She couldn't help but obey. But he hadn't told her to stop finger-fucking herself! So she kept it up, getting hotter and hotter, grunting as she held her orgasm in, bucking her hips up and down on her seat, nearly screaming. But ever obedient.
"Hold it in, whore. I want you ready when we get to work."
After several minutes, John pulled up in front of the community center. Several members of a local gang were hanging out outside. John got out of the car and waved to them. Some waved back. Then he came around to the other side, opened the door and yanked Crystal's leash, so she fell out unceremoniously. He led her to the front of the building, and her sparsely clad white body caught the interest of the multiple black men out front.
"Whoa, John," said one of the gangsters, "what's this?"
"Well boys, I told you I'd take care of you while working here."
"Shit, bro," said another member, who reached out and lifted Crystal's skirt. Naturally, her legs were open, as she was incapable of closing them. The boy slid a finger inside her. She whimpered.
"Bitch is soaking wet," he said.
With that, all the gang members gathered around her. She braced herself and, still on all fours, looked at the ground as she felt what little clothes she had on quickly come off. She saw words in black form on the pavement. "REMEMBER WHAT YOUR OWNER SAID ABOUT CUMMING, CUNT," it read. "NOT YET." |