Used and Abused To the Approval of the Crowd

If I was being honest with myself, there was an under-current of anger underneath my horniness, anger that rose and brought tension to my neck and shoulders as I drove. I still felt as though Ria had, to some extent, led me on; however traditional her upbringing, it seemed implausible for her to imagine that in the era of porn sites and hook-up apps a man wouldn't reasonably expect that sexual fulfillment would be part of a romantic relationship. And now she had **** a promise of marriage out of me before we even really knew if we were sexually compatible.

And I had made that promise. I owned that. But the six months of celibacy that had brought the pressure to bear? That was Ria's.

...All right, then. If she still wanted to marry me when the night was over, I would follow through on that promise, but she would have to fulfill hers, first.

She had said she would do anything that I wanted. She had, in fact, specifically said "I want to be punished."

So I would punish her. I would use her. I would hurt her. I would humiliate her. I would make her show me just how much she was willing to sacrifice, to keep me in her life. I would push her boundaries, and probably break them, and see if she still reached out for me when all was said and done.

So I pulled the car over, and got out my phone, and dug out my credit card. I didn't have a lot of time, so I might have to cut some corners, possibly ones that would threaten Ria's safety. But the mood that I was in, that just made it all the more intoxicating.

When I got home, Ria was on the couch in the living room, dozing lightly, still dressed in the "french maid" lingerie that had helped provoke my hasty promise. A half-full glass of wine sat on the end table; I wondered how much of the bottle Ria had consumed. How much it might have led to her own hasty promise. Going to the closet, I drew a trench coat off of a hanger before returning to where Ria slept.

Leaning over her, I prodded her none too gently on the shoulder.

Her eyes opened. She smiled, stretching, looking at me, and I became very aware of how the movement of her shoulders lifted her breasts in the lingerie. But something in my face made that smile freeze, then slip away, as I overshadowed her. I dropped the coat across her lap.

"Put this on," I ordered. "We're going out."

She licked her lips nervously, trying to rekindle her smile. "Um, all right... But, are you sure you don't want to go to the bedroom, instead? I mean..."

She was breathing quickly; I could tell that even suggesting we might go to the bedroom made her nervous. But something about my manner made her even more so. Which was smarter than she knew.

"You said you would do 'anything I want', Ria. Put on the coat, and let's go."

"...All right. If you want to go out, we'll go out. Give me five minutes to get changed, and-"

"If you don't stop fucking around, you're going to get slapped. I told you exactly what to do, and I meant it. Put the coat on, and get in the goddamned car!"

Her eyes went wide; her lip quivered. I never talked to her like this. I could only imagine what was going through her mind as she wrapped the coat around her barely-clad body, doing up all the buttons and tying the belt like the thin layer of cloth was a security blanket.

We didn't exchange a word as we walked to the car.

Through the drive, I could see her trying and failing to work up the nerve to ask questions. Lights from outside bloomed and flashed across her face as she bit her lip, as her fingers twined in her hair. Her hands fidgeted in her lap; she would meet my eyes sidelong, or in the rear-view mirror, and then look away.

I let her marinate in her tension, much as she had allowed me to stew in mine. Her combination of unease and obedience were making me think eagerly on what she would do, what she would be made to do, and I took slow breaths to keep my mind on the road.

We parked on the street. It was a shabby part of town, loud and flashy in a way that serves to conceal people who are conducting illicit business and illicit relationships. The dance club on the street level was playing a bass-heavy pounding electronica piece; I took Ria by the elbow and let her around the side to the alley, bare bricks and graffiti, then down the side staircase to an unmarked door re-enforced with iron bars.

The pit of the staircase smelled like cigarette smoke and urine. I knocked twice, paused, knocked twice more.

The music that came out when the door was opened clashed with the music from the club above, but it was every bit as loud and nerve-jabbing.

The man who had opened the door had a shaved head, multiple piercings, and wore no shirt beneath the open leather jacket. He took us in quickly, his grey eyes lingering a bit longer on Ria before they snapped over to meet mine.

"Dan, yes? Man of the hour. Come on in... Everyone's waiting."

I noticed Ria looking back as the door closed behind us. I was looking ahead as we proceeded down a short hall.

This was what could be procured in an hour with the right contacts and a healthy bank balance. Not bad.

The lights in the room flickered red, blue, and purple, making everyone in the space look unearthly. There had to be a couple hundred in that space, and they packed it pretty tight. The man who had greeted us at the door didn't look the least out of place, here- there was a lot of leather, a lot of tight spandex and vinyl and rubber. More women than I would have expected, given the request I had sent out, but the ones who had put in an appearance definitely looked like they were entirely on board with what was supposed to go on tonight.

There was a bar along the back wall, doing a healthy business, but my eyes were on the raised stage. A DJ was pumping out the noise on one side of the stage before a black velvet curtain, though few people seemed to be trying to dance. Mostly people seemed to be having the kind of conversations they do when there's loud music playing and you can only hear every other word, and no one really gives a fuck.

The conversations died away around us as our doorman began to press toward the stage. People got out of our way as best they could. I could feel Ria's pulse hammering in her wrist as my hand tightened around it, leading her on.

A tall step brought him onto the stage, and I followed, releasing Ria's wrist as I did so. I turned around and bent to take her up. Her eyes met mine, and her face was drawn with fear. For a moment, I thought she might try to flee back into the crowd.

Then she approached. My hands went beneath her shoulders, and I lifted her onto the stage like she weighed nothing more than a doll. My own pulse was pounding, now, and my cock was a steel bar in my pants. The people closest to the stage applauded as I brought her up, and there were some coarse remarks directed at Ria.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

The crowd immediately quieted, and there was open laughter. Our doorman pulled at the thin microphone taped to his jaw as his voice sounded out over the speakers. The DJ killed the music.

"Hey, gang, you know why we're here tonight. The delectable Ria, here, has promised our man Dan that she will do 'anything he wants' for the next twelve hours."

Hooting, now, and more laughter and clapping. Then the crowd began to stomp- stomp- stomp- stomp- stomp. The doorman- now apparently our MC- grinned broadly, raising his hands in a "keep it down" gesture, and the stomping faded.

"Dan?" Ria whispered, her voice strangled.

Moving behind her, I grabbed her shoulders, turning her roughly around to face the crowd. Her body went rigid as I tugged open the coat's belt.

"Well, we're here to make sure she keeps that promise. And to watch... And maybe, some of you, if you're very, very good... participate...?"

Fuck it. Grabbing the coat by the lapels, I wrenched it open, tearing several of the buttons as I pulled down, pulled it from her body, showed her off in her precious French Maid lingerie to that baying, hungry crowd.

Ria screamed, but it was drowned out as the crowd roared. The curtain opened behind us, revealing a table... And the 'X' of a St. Andrews' Cross... And a stocks... And a great assortment of whips, restraints, paddles, floggers, dildos, and things I was certain that poor Ria would have difficulty even conceiving of how they were used.

Her useless scream faded as I reached around her, one hand tight on her jaw, one cupping her lace-enclosed breast, squeezing hard.

"Anything... I... want..." I snarled into her ear.

Her warm body shuddered against mine as my cock pressed against her ass through my pants.