Messy Miley

Mark ordered a beer, and after he got it, he walked down and sat next to Miley. "Fuckin' podunk nowheresville," she muttered.

"Just be glad we are inside and not having to walk miles," said Mark. "Shouldn't be much longer."

The bartender came down and put two shots of tequila, a salt shaker, and two lime wedges on the bar in front of Miley and Mark. "From the boys down the bar," he said glumly and walked off

Mark and Miley looked down the bar and saw the three men smiling and nodding. Mark and Miley took the shot glasses and saluted the men before doing their shots. Miley chased the tequila and lime by slamming her draft.

A few minutes later, Miley's head started to nod.

"You OK?" asked Mark.

"I feel REALLY drunk," said Miley. She almost fell off of her bar stool but caught herself on the rail. She had trouble keeping her head up.

Mark put a hand on her shoulder. Miley's head rose up and down, and her eyes rolled back. She fell back, and Mark caught her before she fell off the bar stool. He lay her head on the bar. Miley muttered incoherently and drooled.

Mark looked up. The bartender and the three patrons were now standing right behind him. "What did you do to her?!" he demanded.

"Shut the fuck up, boy!" said one of the men. He grabbed Mark by the throat and held him against the bar. "Take her to the bathroom."

"Leave her alone!" Mark said before the man tightened his grip on his throat.

"What we do to her may be up to you, boy!" said the man. He let go of Mark's throat. He reached under his vest and pulled out a gun. "You understand, you do as we say, dontcha boy?"

"Yes," Mark muttered staring at the gun.

After a minute, the man motioned Mark to the restrooms. Mark walked to the men's room and opened the door. There was a stall, and sink and two urinals. Miley was seated on the floor between the urinals and her wrists were tied to the urinals. Her clothes were still on. Her mouth hung open, and her head was barely lifting and falling. A line of drool ran down her chin.

The bartender looked up at Mark. "We don't wanna **** this fine piece of ass," he said, "but if you don't play along, we will." He nodded at one of the men who took a video camera out from behind his back and turned it on. He aimed it at Miley. "Piss on her face, boy," said the bartender.