Frustration and Ownership.

The door chimed and a woman in a near-shredded black tee and ripped jeans came in. Her D-cups were barely restrained and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Her auburn curls fell halfway down her back and she smacked her bright green lips. She immediately took a cell phone out of her back pocket and trained the camera on Zia.

Zia's arousal was getting worse with time, not better, and this woman's eyes on her weren't helping. When the woman's finger reached through her ripped shirt and started teasing her nipple, Zia could feel herself dripping. Finally she gasped out, "Fuck me; please!"

The woman watched and licked her lips, but made no move to touch Zia. Instead the woman's free hand reached through a gap in the worn denim and started massaging her own clit. "Oh, yeah! Beg me like you mean it!"

"Please! Please! Fuck me! I'm so horny I could die!"

The woman started thrusting her hips. "Where do you want me to put my tongue? Your hard little nipples? Your throbbing clit? Right up your snatch?"

"ANY OF THEM! Just fuck me NOW!"

The woman watched and played with herself, driving Zia to tears of frustration. She wriggled and thrust her hips in hope of any kind of release.

The woman in jeans came with an extremely loud moan. Zia could see her cum soaking the inside of her jeans.

"May I help you?" Ann was once again resplendent in her sky-blue dress and tight corset. Zia noticed that the corset didn't really shape her figure, it just looked like it did. Which just made Zia hornier.

"I'd like a set of ben-wa balls," the woman in jeans leered and jerked a thumb toward Zia, "and her if she's for sale."

"She is not." Ann held up the twin silver balls for inspection, then named a price. The woman in jeans paid for her merchandise and took it, blew a kiss to Zia, and walked out.

Once the woman was gone, Ann knelt down and unfastened the shackles on Zia's feet, then stood and released her hands.

"Your punishment is over, Zia. You may go."

"What about my clothes?"

"I doubt you'll be needing them; the effects of the ointment last several hours, and your home is only eight blocks away. Here is your apartment key. I believe what comes next is called the 'walk of shame,' though I truly hope you see it as more of an opportunity."

Zia grabbed the key and ran out the door. Ann looked after her and whispered. "Until we meet again; welcome to my collection of toys."