Her first conscious thought was, I'm awake. She hadn't opened her eyes just yet, but was aware of sounds and that she was cold. The second conscious thought was that she had a Blacksmith using the inside of her head as an anvil and was hitting a particularly hard piece of metal with a four-pound lump hammer.
She groaned and cursed red wine. She always got a hangover after drinking red wine and reminded herself of the often-made promise to stick to the voddy.
April then realised that she was naked. Not an unusual condition in the mornings, but along with her nakedness was a realisation that she wasn't in her own bed. In fact, she wasn't in a bed, but on the floor with some kind of fur rug under her. She unlocked her eyelids and was immediately sorry she did. The Blacksmith really began to go at the anvil inside her cranium. She closed her eyes again and groaned once more. But, not before they registered that she was in fact, lying on a sheepskin rug, face down with her wrists tied together and attached to a radiator tail.
To most people, this would have given rise to panic, but April was almost used to waking in strange situations in strange places after a night of debauchery. Her life style dictated that she would often get into what might be construed, as tricky positions. She had to give these one nighter's up. One of these days, she would really find herself in trouble.
Time to run a system diagnostic she thought. April wiggled her toes and was pleased to feel that they were all there and not restricted. Legs were in a similar condition, brilliant, so far so good. Her inner thighs were sticky and wet. Nothing new there then, must have been one hell of a night, because she was also aware of a pool of wetness under her pelvic bone. She had either pissed herself or her partner of last night had left his semen to trickle from her body and coagulate below her. Her check of the rest of her body found no damage and seemed to be fully functional.
She heard a door whisper open and the heavy tread of bare male feet approach.
"You're awake then". His voice rasped in her ear like a file rubbing over soft cheese.
"Umm". Surely he didn't expect her to be able to articulate coherent words so soon after waking into a situation as this did he?
Suddenly, white lightening raced up her spine as her brain registered the unexpected lash of a whip across her buttocks.
"Whadthefuck!!! Jessuzzzz!!! whadthefuck was that for?" She screamed into the fur of the rug.
"Just your morning wake up call, thought I would bring you all the way into the rest of the world. Good morning. Long day in front of you"
A cold wet nose made her flinch as it nudged against her tailbone. Then a warm tongue lapped at her crack, but could not get too far because she clenched her muscles tight in confusion and as a protective defence mechanism.
"Better open your legs, unless of course, you want another wake up call." His voice sounded calm, reassuring, but at the same time, commanding, leaving her no illusions about his sincerity.
"What the fuck is going on?" Her confused synapses screamed at her to do something, she was hardly awake and they were being abused.
"It's only Max cleaning up."
"Max! Who and what the fuck is Max." But, she already knew.
"Max is your lover from last night. God you two were terrific." He conversationally informed her. Had she really fucked a dog? She also knew the answer to that one, but had no recollection of the event. Had she been that drunk last night?
"I need to pee." Obediently, she had opened her legs and the dog was washing her, but the only effect was to make her need to vent her bladder. "God my head hurts."
"Probably the GBH, it gets some people like that. If you want to piss, do so. Max won't mind in the slightest." His conversational tone did little to calm her.
"What the fuck is GBH and can you stop that dog from doing that? I need to get up and go to the toilet."
"... Otherwise known as date rape drug. It renders the taker bereft of will and makes them totally compliant." He ignored the rest of her question.
Her bladder let go involuntarily and a gush of urine flooded from her. April was genuinely getting worried at her predicament. Sure she had been in some amazing scrapes before, but this one was a little too far even for her adventurous spirit. The dog lapped at her labia and cleaned her up. April whimpered and decided that pleading might help her.
"Please, I don't know your name, let me go eh? I promise I won't tell anyone, I mean, how could I? I don't know who you are or where I am. Just let me go and we can forget all about it, put it down to experience, what do you say?"
"April," His calm voice whispered into her ear while the dog continued to lick her sex. "I promise you that nothing will harm you here. If, at the end of the day, you want to go and never see us again, that will be okay with me, but, you will be here for the day and you will get screwed until we are both satisfied. So, why not just relax and enjoy the experience?" He sounded so matter of fact and she was certain that he meant every word, but it still did little to assuage her fears.
"Now, why don't you kneel up and allow Max to clean up properly?"
April, thinking that she had better just go with the flow, struggled to get her knees under her. It wasn't made any easier with a tongue lapping at her sex and her hands restricted by the ties to the radiator pipe. At last she managed to get into a kneeling position with her head down, which gave Max an unobstructed angle to her. His tongue hit home and licked straight over her clit, producing a shiver. The feel of the slightly rough surface of the dog's tongue was starting to work its magic. April could never resist a tongue doing its thing, her resolve always melted at this point and this time was going to be no exception. A familiar heat began to build up in her groin. If this dog didn't stop his tonguing and soon, she would come hard. Max seemed to sense her increasing excitement, because his ministrations went up a gear and he licked faster and longer, travelling from her clit, over her pussy lips and up to her puckered anus.
April gasped and tried to breath through the fur of the rug where she was pressing her face down in an effort not to let her body release. She clenched her buttocks together thinking it might help in controlling the urge to climax, but it was to no avail. The heat had built to a crescendo and then suddenly boiled over in a wave of pure pleasure. She soaked the dog's nose with her secretions and a crashing climax coursed through her.
Max was lifted away from her. She heard him being dragged across the floor and the door shut. Her captor returned and whispered into her ear once more.
"Wasn't so bad was it? I'll bring you some water and towels so you can clean yourself up. Want some breakfast?" Without waiting for an answer, he left her prostrate on the floor.
The time gave April the opportunity to think. She tried to recall last night's events, but most of it was a blur. A vivid memory of locking the office door seemed like a good starting point from which to work. Joe, the barman at her local watering hole had nodded his recognition of her entrance. She remembered her usual Vodka and orange and she remembered talking to Lynne who was in the same business of selling cosmetics to department stores. They worked for rival companies, but always got along very well.
April remembered going to 'Flamingos'; a nightclub that she frequented as a devoted parishioner goes to church. Every Saturday night would find her propping the bar while she scoped the influx of likely short-term partners. April had no interest in anything-long term. A few days and the guy would get on her tits. Why they always descended into demanding little boys left April at a loss. She had lost count of the times some sad bastard professed undying love for her only to never call again when she threw them out. So much for love, it sucked.
Picking up guys at the club had become a frequent thing. Her natural good looks and slim body worked to full advantage in the testosterone charged atmosphere of the club. It had led to some wild nights and some pretty hairy moments. Several times, her training in martial arts had come to the rescue. Her Mom was to thank for that.
Last night hadn't been any different as far as she could remember. The usual parade of spotty faced louts, leering at her and making suggestive insinuations. But nobody special came to mind. April couldn't remember leaving the club though. A snatch of conversation in the ladies was the last thing she could remember from last night. An over made up bimbo's face swam into her minds eye and something about borrowing lipstick. April never used the stuff. She sold it and knew what went into making it. But, after that, she had no recollection.
The door opening again interrupted her thoughts. From the corner of her eye, she could see bare feet approaching her. She was still kneeling in the same position.
"You may get up now April. I'll let out a little of the chain so you can feed and wash your self." A ceramic bowl was placed on the floor by her head and a towel slipped off his hair-covered arm. April, smothered a shudder, she hated hairy men. She felt him release some of the chain that was attached to her wristbands and the radiator pipe.
"Thanks. What do I call you?"
.... There is more of this story ...