A Detour

Maria looked at Lois, who laid in the stall, eyes half-closed, one hand on her midsection as though she could still feel the eggs. "Wait right here."

The barmaid returned in a minute with white towel tucked under her arm, and a plastic bag. She loaded the enema gear into the bucket, and then placed Lois' discarded clothes into the bag.

Lois was feeling very relaxed as Maria helped her out of her shirt. Her bra unclasped and came away—a black satin number, just enough support to give Lois some cleavage. Her breasts hung free on her chest, healthy handfuls with pointed nips that hung proudly, just that touch of sag to give them fullness. Maria didn't turn away, but admired Lois impassively. Lois felt self-conscious at her nudity, but wasn't scared...until Maria brought out the tape-gun.

It was some sort of broad, white masking tape. The barmaid ran a few loops around the reporter's wrists, nonchalantly, and then another couple of loops around he elbows, to bring her harms together in front of her. Lois considered struggling, but the heat of the eggs dissolving in her stomach almost left her in a daze. It was like she was watching herself from afar as Maria taped her ankles and knees together, then picked the nude reporter up and slung her over her shoulder, ass in the air.

Maria took through a maintenance door in the bathroom—which, drunk as she was, she noticed was newer and sturdier than the rest of the fixtures, and had a biometric keypad. The barmaid laid her palm flat against the electronic rectangle next to the door, and the bolts unlocked with a heavy thunk.

They traveled along a back corridor; doors led off to offices, storage closets, a breakroom...and Maria suddenly stepped sideways, into the breakroom, through a locker room, and through another maintenance door. They traveled in darkness for a while, and Lois smelled dampness, moist earth, and a hint of ozone...then there was light...that revealed bare concrete walls, a mattress that rested on the floor, and a number of grow lamps above a few marijuana plants.

Maria laid Lois down on, ass up, face against the mattress, which smelled of sex and weed. The barmaid leaned down and ran her tongue around the pink rim of flesh around the plug in Lois' ass. The reporter shivered.

"The big man can have you in a little while baby...I can't hold him off for long...but I thought you might like a little detour. Have a little fun. What do you think about that?"

Lois could feel the warmth and light of the growlamps on her skin. The heat from the eggs in her stomach grew in response, but somehow her head felt...clearer. Even the alcoholic haze was fading. She tried to give Maria a sultry smile as she waggled her ass.

"Sure." the reporter said. "What do you have in mind?"