Nothing happens, but pressure builds.

Tara would have gotten bored if not for the steady stream of passers-by to bear witness to her situation. She would have gotten cold except that every set of eyes that found her set her skin on fire. Why did so many of them have to be White men? Under the influence of her own rule, they were all attracted to her, but as long as she stayed outside of the cafe, they had no real right to touch her. Jim had been brazen, but he possessed the notebook. He had every right to be.

Tara had no concept of the passage of time as she stood, waiting like a loyal bitch. She knew why she felt compelled to obey Jim's orders, but she didn't know Sandra's story. The other woman was definitely a horny one. Guys, mostly White, of course, came and went from the cafe. They eyed the two girls hungrily. Some of them tried to talk them into stepping inside with them, and Sandra seemed ready to go in with them at one point. Tara had to intervene, then, telling her that Jim would be coming right back. Sometimes the men inside would knock on the glass and beckon them. Once, a trio of them even had their dicks out and pressed against the glass. Saliva pooled in Tara's mouth as she eyed the meat in the window like it was some kind of butcher shop. But there were at least eight White men in that cafe, and she might never walk again after going through that.

A few times, she'd grow so aroused, standing there, that she would experimentally touch herself, and each time she was startled by how incredibly sensitive her body was. It hadn't been like that yesterday, had it? No, it was definitely new. It felt like it should be too much to handle, but somehow she knew she could. It was just really intense.

Sandra, for her part, did eventually break down and start masturbating right there on the sidewalk. When someone started filming her, it only seemed to encourage her. When she came, Tara was shocked at how powerful it seemed. And it took her at least a minute to calm down afterwards, at which point she just kind of sat there with a grin on her face, legs splayed wide. A little puddle formed beneath her. Tara felt so much second-hand embarrassment for her that she nearly came, herself.

The guys in the cafe hooted and hollered and pounded the glass at Sandra's shameless display. Tara knew that the humiliation felt good. She felt it, herself. Jim must have done that, too. The very thought of being so desperately horny that she'd break down and pleasure herself like an animal was almost too delicious to ignore. She wanted it, but she knew Jim wanted her to want it, and somehow she found the strength to resist.

More time passed, and Tara grew comfortable in her discomfort and embarrassment. It became manageable. Men entered and left, all of them very interested in her and Sandra, who eventually did stand up again. Eventually, though, a new problem presented itself. Tara needed to pee.

Once she became aware of it, she couldn't think of anything else. Maybe this was part of Jim's plan, to put her in this position, knowing she wouldn't dare slip into the cafe to relieve herself. Knowing she couldn't hold it forever. God damn that man. If she had to piss herself on the sidewalk, she'd die of shame.

At one point, while Tara was struggling to think about anything other than her bladder, a young Indian woman approached the cafe. She stopped just outside, chewing her lip in contemplation, doing her best to ignore Tara and Sandra. She was pretty. A bit curvier than Tara, and probably no older. Likely a university student. "You feel it, too, don't you?" Tara said.

The woman looked at her, and she had the look of desperation in her eyes. "Yeah... I want it. Want to feel... all of it. It would be so easy. To just walk through that door and let them have me. White men." She shuddered. "Why do I feel like this? Fuck. Do I even care? Why do I fight it?"

Before Tara could even formulate an answer, the girl pulled open the door and walked inside.

The inside of that cafe became a scene out of a low budget porno. The girl's clothes were lost almost instantly, and before long it was mostly just a bunch of White cocks and asses to be seen, with flashes of brown flesh visible as bodies shifted. Too many men for just one girl, they mostly stood around watching and stroking themselves. It really wasn't overwhelming to watch. That is, until she caught a glimpse of the girl's face.

The woman was in the grips of an ecstasy Tara couldn't even imagine. She was a tight brown plaything, being devoured by White cocks, White hands, and White lips. Her cries of overwhelming pleasure could be heard plainly through the glass, whenever her mouth was free, that is. Tara gulped, knowing how easy it would be to join her. She had to stop Sandra again, if not for the act that Sandra was her best friend, she'd have given up on trying to help her. But it was her fault she was in this situation in the first place. Keeping Sandra out of that cafe was the least she could do. Another glimpse of the mystery Indian girl, now covered in sweat and spit and cum tested Tara's resolve. She wanted to be that woman. It was so unfair. This had been her fantasy from the beginning. Why shouldn't she just surrender to it?

But she knew this world wasn't quite right. And as long as Jim had the notebook, it would likely only get worse. So with a sigh, she tore her eyes away from the window and looked back out into the street. That's when she saw a White-Indian couple on the far side of the street. The Indian girl was completely naked, and she was walking on a leash being held by the White man. Tara growled in frustration. No fair!

More men entered and left, and every time the door opened, the two naked girls outside could hear and smell everything going on in there. Tara's bladder actually helped keep her from losing her mind with arousal, it was probably the only thing holding her together.

'Where the hell is Jim, anyway?' She danced a little from foot to foot, beginning to seriously consider the option of peeing right there on the sidewalk. If he didn't come back soon, she'd... she'd... just have to wait, she realized. His notebook could find her anywhere, and as much as she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of coming back to her waiting obediently, she really didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting to see her come crawling back to him.