Chapter 6

Except for my normal housework the only thing I had to do the next day was shop for a slutty dress. Not as easy as it might sound. I don’t even know where to go to shop for the kind of dress Tommy ordered me to buy.

After everyone left for work and school I got ready and drove to the mall. Both Victoria’s Secret and Fredericks of Hollywood have stores there. I went to see what kind of secret Victoria is keeping first. I sometimes buy underwear and sleepwear there. This will be the first time I ever shopped at either store for outerwear.

I was surprised to find that some of the clothes they’re offering are quite nice. And most of them are pretty sexy. I saw quite a few outfits I know Craig would enjoy seeing me in. But I know they aren’t slutty enough to satisfy Tommy.

I tried Fredericks next. The clothing on display there is much sluttier. I was still looking through the racks for just the right dress when my cell phone rang. It was Tommy. When I told him where I was he laughed and exclaimed, “Not likely! You aren’t going to find anything at the mall!”

He gave me the name and address of a store and told me to go there and ask for Rick. I’ve never even heard of the street before. I had to ask him how to get there.

I left the mall and drove to a large, fairly new building on the east side of town. On one side of the building is a store that, judging by the display in the window, sells lingerie, leather goods like chaps and motorcycle jackets, and an assortment of clothing only a hooker or a stripper would wear.

On the other side of the building is a biker bar. Each side has its own entrance. But just inside there’s a large double door connecting the two businesses. I stepped inside and looked around nervously. The first thing I noticed was the strong, sexy smell of leather.

The bar next door seems to be doing a brisk business even though it’s still early. A lot of noise is filtering in through the double doors connecting the two businesses. Loud, jarring music and louder conversations.

It was immediately obvious to me and no doubt to the few other customers in the store that I don’t belong here. I almost turned around and went back to the mall. This place intimidates me. Were it not for the fact that Tommy sent me here I’d have left as soon as I stepped inside and realized how out of place I am. But before I could turn and leave a very large man approached me and asked, “Are you Reggie?”

I nodded. He’s expecting me! That’s comforting ... I think.

He looked me over and said, “I’m Rick. Tommie told me you was coming. Follow me.”

As we made our way through racks of leather to a large display of slutty dresses and equally slutty skirts and tops I tried to ignore the curious looks from the other customers, all of whom are dressed like typical bikers and have a hard look about them that does nothing to ease my discomfort.

Rick already seemed to know what he’s looking for and where to find it. We stopped by a clothing rack and Rick asked me my size. He already knew which items he’s going to select for me. As soon as I told him my sizes he went through the racks quickly. He selected three obviously predetermined dresses in my size. Or at least the labels said they’re my size. They’re tiny! When I held them up I thought they look like they might fit a preteen.

Rick pointed to a door and invited me to try them on. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

I really don’t want to. But it doesn’t seem like I have a say in the matter.

There are half a dozen changing rooms against the wall between the store and the bar next door. Strangely, they are raised about four feet above floor level. I have to climb half a dozen steps to reach one of them. Clothing in hand I climbed up to the small landing and opened the door to the changing room. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was preoccupied trying to imagine how I’m going to look in these tiny outfits.

I wasn’t expecting to find anything but a changing room on the other side of the door. But I took one step inside and came to a sudden stop. I think my heart stopped for a moment. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! The far wall of the small booth, the entire wall it shares with the bar next door, is constructed totally of glass! From floor to ceiling, wall to wall, it’s a solid sheet of glass! Now I really, REALLY don’t want to try the dresses on!

I looked through the glass and saw at least a dozen stereotypical leather and denim clad bikers, all looking back at me! A couple of them noticed me entering the booth. They got up and came over to the glass. The changing room is raised about four feet from floor level on the bar side, too. It’s going to be just like I’m a stripper on a stage!

The men who approached the glass to get a closer look announced my presence to the others in the bar. The other men, and a few women, are all turning to watch me now. They’re all either glaring or grinning lasciviously at my obvious dismay. They’re waiting for me to undress and try on the three dresses Rick selected for me. I stood there far too long, frozen in place as I stared out at the bar in shock. I almost left. I desperately want to leave. But I have a feeling if I do leave, assuming Rick would let me leave and considering his tone when he ordered me to go into the booth and try on his selections I’m not confident he’d let me just walk out of here, it will somehow turn into an excuse for Tommy to have sex with my daughter.

I already know it’s inevitable. It’s going to happen someday. He’ll see to it that it’s unavoidable. I know it won’t be very long before I give him some excuse, or he manufactures the excuse he needs. But I’m determined that if it does happen it won’t be because of anything I knowingly do, or don’t do. Not if it’s within my power to prevent it.

I told myself that this, undressing in a glass walled booth for the amusement of a group of sleazy bikers, this is the sort of thing I signed on for when I agreed to the terms of Tommy’s offer. I agreed to do anything he ordered me to do. Surrendering to the inevitability of this outrageous situation I finally hung the dresses I’m carrying on a large hook and began to undress.

I turned away from the bar. I know it won’t matter. I won’t be able to hide much of my exposed flesh from them in this little glass cage. I’m so totally aware of all those people watching me get undressed I almost can’t breathe. But at least I can’t see their lust bloated faces as I undress. I’m reminded of sitting in that bar with Tommy and being undressed in front of all those men. But this is scarier. The men on the other side of the glass are scarier. And Tommy isn’t here to protect me ... not that he would.

I removed my blouse and turned to hang it on a hook. I saw then that it really doesn’t matter if I turn away and try to protect as much of my private parts from their prying eyes as possible. My eyes were drawn to movement on the big screen television against the back wall over the bar. There had been a ball game on when I entered the booth. Now it’s receiving a transmission from several cameras placed around the booth I’m in to show my body from every conceivable angle. There are four different views of me on the split screen being displayed nearly life size on the huge television.

I’m horrified. How can I not be?! I’m standing here in only my skirt and panties. My breasts are already exposed because Tommy told me I can no longer wear a bra. I’m mortified, and yet I’m just as excited as I was when Tommy undressed me in that redneck bar two days ago!

It’s possible I’m even more scared now without Tommy here to protect me, not that he’s apt to provide a lot of protection. I reminded myself that coming here was his idea. He no doubt had exactly this scenario in mind for me.

I’m alone, half naked and on display to the patrons of a biker bar. I’m an attractive woman who obviously doesn’t belong here and I’m putting on a strip show. None of the men who are gathered around and obviously enjoying the show could possibly look at me and think I’m doing this of my own free will. The fact that I’m doing something like this against my will, at least to my mind, makes me even more vulnerable. This isn’t good. There’s no telling how far these primitive looking bikers are willing to take this.

I finally came to my senses and realized that standing here worrying about it is just prolonging the agony. I removed my skirt and tried on the first of the three dresses. There isn’t much to the tiny little thing. It consists of a tiny skirt and a top that’s nothing more than two sheer scarves that rise up from the waist, just barely covering my breasts and fastening behind my neck. My bikini tops cover more of my body than this dress!

To make matters worse, the skirt is so short my panties peek out from under the hem in back. There’s a six-inch gap between the narrow strips of sheer material which rise up from my waist to cover my breasts, more or less. With the top fastened behind my neck I lowered my arms and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I hate what I see. I’m looking at far too much of me. But I know it’s exactly the sort of outfit Tommy has in mind for me.

I stripped it off and quickly pulled the next dress on, trying hard to ignore the growing number of large, hairy men gathering in front of the glass to stare at my body. The next dress I put on is styled after a pair of coveralls. The bib top fits very loosely. By design I’m unable to adjust it enough to take up all the slack. It billows out instead of clinging to my breasts, never really covering them. I’m so self conscious about having my breasts exposed this way I hardly noticed the skirt is at least as short as the first dress I tried on.

I kind of like the dress, though. It would be cute on a teenager with a nice top under it. I feel reasonably certain, however, that wearing it in public without a top under it could get me arrested. I turned to the side and looked in the mirror. I’m able to see between the bib top and my breasts all the way through to the other side. The entire side of my breast is on view, including my very erect nipple!

I have one more dress to try on and I can get the hell out of here. I quickly removed the slutty dress I’m trying on for the amusement of the still growing audience in the bar next door and tried to figure out how to wear the last one. It looks like a collection of strips of cloth which have been shredded by the sharp claws of some large beast. It’s not much more than a small collection of scraps of cloth with large, revealing patches of skin on display in between! Or at least there will be a lot of skin on display once I figure out how to put it on.

I stood there in my panties and held it up, trying very hard but failing to ignore my audience staring up at me from the other side of the glass wall separating us. I was just about to give up on the strange garment in my hand. I had no idea how to wear the third dress, if it really is a dress. I hung it up and started to reach for the clothes I wore in when the door to the booth opened.

Rick stood there smiling confidently as though he has every right to open the door and look at my nearly naked body. He looked me over closely for a moment and said, “It looks like you need some help.”

I looked past him and saw the other customers in the clothing store side of the building staring at another big screen television. And there I am on another screen, nearly naked and big as life. Just like in the bar on the other side of the glass wall there were four different angles on the split screen showing me in all my glory.

Rick entered the booth, leaving the door wide open. I tried to tell myself it doesn’t really matter. I have no modesty left to preserve. Everyone in the building has already seen almost all of me. One of the cameras even looks up from floor level giving everyone a very clear look between my legs. But no matter what I try to tell myself it does matter. It’s humiliating as hell to be on public display this way ... and yes, damn it! That excites me!

I stood there in only my panties while he removed the collection of narrow straps from the hangar and said, “You’re going to have to take those off.”

Yes, of course I am. As though in a mindless trance I skimmed my panties off with shaking fingers and placed them on the hook in front of me. Rick came closer. He ordered me to hold out my arms and he selected two of the many holes in the dress to stick my arms through.

It seemed a bit incongruous to be helped into a dress by a big, hairy biker. But I have the distinct impression he has offered this service to his female customers in the past. He doesn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable. But that’s fine. He needn’t feel uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable enough for both of us.

He worked the narrow straps up my arms and over my shoulders. He turned me around to face the glass and all the people watching from the bar. He fastened the strips of cloth behind me somehow and then turned me around again. He arranged some of the strips so that if I’m careful and don’t make any sudden moves the material will cover my nipples and my slit, but only just barely.

When he was finished he smirked at me and said, “I ain’t seen this on a broad before. I like it!”

It doesn’t surprise me that he likes it. I’m only surprised he hasn’t seen anyone wearing it before. How the hell did he figure out how I’m supposed to put it on?! I’ve got it on now and I still don’t know if I could put it on without help.

He looked me over and made me turn in a circle very slowly. He stopped me when I was facing away from him, looking out at all the people in the bar and watching myself on the large television on the back wall. My freshly shaved pubic area is plainly visible on the televisions. It looks red and swollen. It looks like the sex organ of a highly aroused woman. I suppose that’s because it is.

He said with a smirk in his voice, “Just one more thing and we’re done.”

He unfastened the dress, if I can call this thing a dress, slid it back down off of my shoulders and down my arms. I watched him on the television in the bar. The look of lust on his face scares the hell out of me ... and turns me on like crazy!

He hung the dress from a hook without taking his eyes off my naked body. I’m not certain I’ll be able to figure out how to put it on again but for the moment that’s the least of my worries. I see the intent on his face. My shopping experience is not yet complete.

He bent me over and pushed me forward until I was forced to support myself with my hands against the glass. I watched us on the television in the bar as he stared down at my ass with a huge grin on his face and slowly unzipped his pants. I heard cheers coming from the bar as he pulled out his large, hard cock.

I’m not even surprised. I’m not surprised this is happening and I’m not surprised by the reaction of the people in the bar next door. I’m only surprised that I’m submitting so passively to what can only be called a rape, a very public rape.

He adjusted my position and easily worked his cock into my incredibly wet pussy. I couldn’t look down at the faces of all the people watching me getting fucked. Instead, I watched us perform on television while he reached around and gripped one of my breasts in each hand. He clamped down on them and began to fuck me violently.

You might think I’d be devastated by this outrageous public rape. But god!! It feels so damn good! It’s just what my body needs at that moment. Rick has a nice fat cock and I can’t deny I’m extremely turned on at the moment. After all the public humiliation I’ve just experienced I can’t help but be excited. I even enjoy watching from so many angles on the big screen television as he fucks me! It’s as if I’m watching a dirty movie starring me.

The movie became even more obscene when Rick’s hand released my tits and gripped my hips instead. My tits began to swing wildly in response to the violent fucking. It hurt a little. But it felt good, too. And I couldn’t help but find my image on the television even more erotic as my tits began to sway wildly in time with each brutal thrust of Rick’s cock.

As much as I was embarrassed by the gaze of the crowd of rough looking men and women looking on from the other side of the glass I still felt my eyes drawn to their excited faces from time to time. I would immediately look back up at the television on the far wall, but not before basking for a few seconds in all that lust.

In the back of my mind, I’m wondering if it’s going to be just Rick or if all those men who are watching and who obviously want me will also get a turn. I fear it will come to that. But even so I can’t help being excited by the prospect.

There was a short moment of lucidity when it occurred to me that this isn’t right. This isn’t one of the two days each week I promised to serve Tommy. But I’d be lying if I said I’m upset. I’m really not. I probably will be later when sanity returns. But for now, I’m enjoying this erotic experience far too much to worry about anything but my rapidly approaching orgasm.

I continued to watch myself getting fucked on television and now, as the level of lust I’m experiencing increased dramatically, I began to look down and scan the faces of the men in the crowd, looking them right in the eyes as though I’m incapable of feeling shame. The lust-filled, predatory expressions on their faces only served to increase my own excitement. You’d think no happily married mother of two in her right mind would react the way I’m responding to this incredible situation. But for me this is a wet dream come true.

I guess it’s obvious the part about being in my right mind doesn’t really apply to me. Not at this moment and now that I think about it, not on severable notable and lust filled moments over the past week.

I enjoyed several incredible orgasms and I didn’t even try to hide them from my leering and cheering audience. I had slipped into my newly discovered slut mode more deeply than ever before. And all the time Rick was fucking me I wondered about all those men on the other side of the glass. My lust crazed mind pictured all the hard cocks in all those tight jeans. There are a lot of them. More than a dozen. More like two dozen. But I want them. In that moment when I was thinking with my pussy I wanted them all!

I want them. But at the same time, I don’t. I know I can’t handle all those large, rough looking men. I had all I could take when I spent most of yesterday taking care of Tommy, TT and Randall.

I felt another big orgasm building but just before it hit, Rick slammed into me one last time and swore loudly as he emptied his balls in my not quite satisfied pussy. I whined wordlessly in disappointment when he slowly pulled his cock out of my tingling, very needy, and very unsatisfied pussy.

Ricky snarled, “Don’t fucking move!”

I watched on the television on the back wall of the bar as he backed away, wiped his slime covered cock and his huge balls on my blouse and left the room while stuffing his cock back in his pants. I’m still highly aroused. So even though I wasn’t happy about it when another strange man entered the booth behind me and proceeded to rape me from behind, I wasn’t all that upset either.

I came again very quickly, almost as soon as this new man slammed his cock into me. And then I came again before he reached orgasm. He’s large and violent and to him I’m nothing but a hot, juicy, very available cunt. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. He, too, used my already soiled blouse to wipe his cock clean before putting it away and stepping out of the booth.

I wasn’t alone for long. As soon as he cleared the door another man entered, his large, hard cock already sticking out of his pants and preceding him into the booth by an impressive distance.

He sat down on the small bench. Without a word he grabbed my arm and forced me to my knees in front of him. I’m not sure I can explain what was going through my mind right at that moment. I’m still scared. I still don’t think I can satisfy all those men. But I don’t care. I want them to take me. I want them all to use me. I want to be raped over and over and over.

I got my wish.

It went on and on long past the time I could take it, and much longer past the time I could enjoy it. I stopped having orgasms by the time the fourth or fifth man had raped me, if this can truly be called a rape. That’s what I want to call it though I never once asked them to stop, to let me go.

But whether I want them or not the men kept coming. A few of them wanted blowjobs but most of them fucked me. Sometimes one of them fucked me while I was sucking the cock of another. But most of them fucked me with my face pressed up against the glass so I could see the amusement on the faces of the men and the occasional woman who are watching me get gangbanged into insensibility.

I entered the store before eleven in the morning. I probably wasn’t raped for the first time until a little before noon. I can’t even guess how many men fucked my pussy or my mouth before they finally let me leave at three o’clock. Logic dictates that the number of men who used me must have been at least two dozen because that’s about how many I saw through the glass when it started. But I have no idea how many men came into the bar and decided they want to play, too. I have no idea how many men may have gone decided they wanted seconds. The only thing I know for certain is that I hurt all over and I don’t know if I can walk.

When I was finally allowed to put my own clothes back on I discovered my panties were missing. I wasn’t surprised. Someone has a souvenir.

My blouse is nasty. It’s sticky and is getting stiff as the earliest deposits have dried. It’s covered with the juices wiped from all the cocks and balls, souvenirs of all those rapes. Every man who fucked me used my blouse to clean his cock and balls and several of them used it to wipe the mess from my pussy before they fucked me.

I stepped into my skirt. I shuddered violently in disgust as I reluctantly put my sticky blouse on and staggered out of the booth and down the short flight of stairs. It wasn’t until that moment I remembered the outfits I tried on. I struggled back up the stairs, fighting back the tears. It feels like my entire body is one large bruise. But most of the pain is centered in my tits and my lower abdomen. I feel like I’ve been punched more than like I’ve been fucked. My ass hurts, too. More than a few of the men couldn’t resist probing my back passage with their fat fingers but thankfully none of them fucked me there. Compared to the pain in my tits and pussy the pain in my ass is negligible.

People, mostly men but a few women are browsing through the racks of slutty clothing as I stood looking around for a restroom. They looked at me with a strange combination of amusement and scorn as I stood looking around for someplace I can clean up. My pussy is sore but not numb. I’m fully aware of the streams of cooling semen running down both my legs all the way to my ankles.

I didn’t see a restroom so I made my way to the counter to ask Rick where it is. He informed me that I’d have to use the lady’s restroom in the bar but he doesn’t recommend it unless I want more action. Then, to add insult to injury he made me pay for the three dresses I tried on four hours ago.

He saw how unhappy I am with having to pay for the clothes after what I just went through. He glared at me and snarled, “Just be glad I ain’t charging you rent on the fitting room you tied up all damned afternoon, cunt. I would have been really pissed if my decent customers needed to use that room.”

Prick! But he’s a very large, very ugly man. I kept my mouth shut. I paid for the dresses, I guess the strange collection of straps I tried on last is a dress. I tried to ignore his amused laughter as I grabbed the bag and carried my new clothes out to my car. I put them in the trunk and got a blanket out to sit on. I got in and started my car but I didn’t leave right away. I sat there for a few minutes, letting the air conditioner cool me down and trying to cool down on the inside, too.

As I sat there I took a personal inventory. I’m exhausted but apparently unhurt, though I’m very sore. I know the mild pain I’m experiencing will quickly fade. A nice hot bath will probably resolve all my aches and pains. I’m pissed because Tommy did this to me on a day which isn’t supposed to be his to control me. I’m also unhappy because my kids are already home from school and will most likely see me like this when I get home.

I drove toward home in a daze. The strong odor of fresh cum in the car is almost overpowering. I opened the windows a couple of inches but I couldn’t get the smell out of the car. Of course, I can’t. Not only is my blouse stiff with drying semen but I’m covered with the stuff from the waist down, not to mention the few odd trails of it drying in streaks across my face, neck and chest! I can’t actually feel it draining out of me but I can feel the blanket under me becoming damp with it.

I was only halfway home when my cell phone rang. I pushed the button on the steering wheel to answer the phone and groaned when I heard Tommy’s voice.

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming at him. I really want to tell the son of a bitch off. But I can’t help thinking that’s the reaction he’s hoping for. I heard the infuriating mirth in his voice when he said, “Rick called me. He tells me you got carried away but you had a good time. I hope you’re fully recovered by tomorrow.”

The son of a bitch is baiting me and I know it. When I didn’t take the bait he said, “I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning. Don’t get dressed. I’ll decide which dress you wear when I get there.”

When I still didn’t respond he snarled, “Are you listening to me, bitch?!”

I sighed and answered, “Yes, sir. I heard you. You didn’t ask me a question!”

He hung up without another word. I pulled into my garage about ten minutes later and shut the engine off. I dread going inside. I don’t want my kids to see me like this.

I forced myself to calm down. I couldn’t suppress a groan of pain when I climbed out of the car. I’m stiff and I hurt all over. My pussy is sore from all the rough fucking. So is my stomach. The rest of my body hurts from all the rough groping and pinching and pulling. As a group it must be said those bikers were not very considerate lovers.

I retrieved the three dresses I was forced to buy from the trunk of the car and entered the house. I took the blanket I was sitting on with me. It will have to be washed ... or tossed.

I entered quietly but it was immediately obvious I don’t have to worry about my children seeing me. Looking out through the patio doors I see Piper. She’s bent over a table out by the pool. Trey is fucking her violently from behind.

I stopped for a moment to watch. I know the proper reaction, the reaction of any parent, any mother to what I’m seeing should have been horror. I didn’t feel that. Instead, I’m aware of being very curious.

I would have reacted differently on Monday. I would have charged out through the patio doors screaming at the top of my lungs. I can’t understand how one strange, dangerous man can change me so much in such a short time.

I will admit to experiencing a nagging doubt, a twinge in the back of my mind. I suppose deep down I know how wrong this is and I’m worried about my children. But I told myself that for the next six months until my debt to Tommy is paid this is best for them. This will make it possible for all of us to survive Tommy. This will make it possible for my children to handle seeing me come home in my present condition and I have to hope it will make it possible for Piper to cope with the inevitable rape by the dangerous man I let into our lives.

The kids are using a table away from the house, out in the open. I know Randall isn’t home. But his son is. I wonder if they’re purposely doing what they’re doing out where he can see them if he’s watching. And there are other neighbors around who might be able to see them as well.

I smiled when I decided they most likely didn’t choose that table by accident. They probably want to be watched, or at least it’s likely Piper enjoys being watched. I don’t know if Trey has loosened up that much yet. I’m pretty sure that’s what Piper was thinking when they chose that table on which to fuck because that’s probably what I’d have been thinking about if I were out there in my daughter’s place.

The very real possibility I was being watched was in the back of my mind all day yesterday when Tommy, TT and Randall were fucking me out there. I wondered all afternoon if any of my other neighbors might notice. I worried about it at first. But as the day went on and I was subjected to one humiliating sex act after another the idea that someone might be watching turned me on more and more.

I stood in the kitchen watching my son fuck my daughter for a couple of minutes. I couldn’t see much. I had time to admire his perfect butt as he pounded his sister from behind. I couldn’t see much of her, just a glimpse from the side of her breasts moving back and forth under her. I know from my own experience that when they move around that violently it can be painful. But she didn’t seem to mind.