Sadie gets in trouble while helping Louis

My Friday Night Date Night stream is almost prophetic. My audience continues to push me toward dating the obvious stand in for Louis, but unlike Obey/Command Me! where the choices are fairly straightforward, Dream Sugar Daddy II is convoluted and has a lot of options and distractions. This night in particular they’ve triggered a secondary storyline with a second ‘sugar daddy’ vying for my character’s attentions. And except for him being of obvious Asian origin, he looks a lot like Marley. Big, tall, broad-shouldered. Of course, I can’t exactly tell my audience that I’m going out on a date with Louis tomorrow for his car shoot and car show, and I certainly can’t tell them I’ve agreed to start getting more physical with Marley but seeing the parallels in the game keeps making me smile and blush all the same.

After I’m done with the Stream, Sarah pulls me into her room for a sexy romp. Between lying on my back with my hands tied to her headboard and having her ride my tongue and mouth, and lying on my belly, my arms tied behind my back, while she guides my mouth up and down her strap on dildo, Sarah makes sure I’m sexually frustrated, confused, and less than satisfied when I go to bed.

In the morning, I ask Sarah to let me out of the cage so that I won’t have to limit my poses with Louis. Sarah is fine with it after I show her the daisy dukes I plan on wearing. They’d have been perfect with a torn crop top, but as I still want to hide away my tatted belly, I pair it with a tank top that I can tuck in and still shows off a large portion of the cleavage my strapless bra provides. After I’m showered and into my clip, I slip into my clothes and add a shirt that Daisy Duke could easily have worn in the show. But where she normally wore a black and red checkered shirt, mine is pink and white and tied off at my belly. It’ll still leave my legs and ass as the main show.

When I hear the rumble of the approaching V8, I realize there’s a clear distinction between Louis’, Marley’s, and Sarah’s cars. Sarah’s Mustang, while it looks like a pony or muscle car, just has the weak little V6 that sounds like any other car. All show, no go. Marley’s Mercedes sounds smooth, powerful, and perfectly balanced. But Louis’ 79 Corvette has a deep burbly rumble that’s somehow more satisfying than Marley’s, even though it likely has a quarter of the horsepower.

I rush out with my bag of camera equipment and meet Louis, marveling at how well he’s shined up his car. He thanks me again for helping and even notices the Dukes of Hazzard look I was going for. It only takes him a few minutes to drive us over to his photo shoot location, behind some big church. The parking lot is quiet, empty, and surrounded by a beautiful, wooded lot. The fallen and unraked leaves will make a beautiful backdrop for the car, as will the rising sun.

I let Louis take the lead on setting up the camera as it’s his show, but I make sure to add my two cents on how best to frame the car and me in it. When we’re ready I watch as Louis stumbles over his own feet while trying to describe what he’d like me to do. He’d already told me he wanted me to be a ‘car babe’ and I agreed knowing full well what that would entail, but it seems that now that we’re in front of each other he can’t quite get the words out how he’d like me to pose all sexy and sultry. After watching him struggle for a good minute and a half I finally let him off the hook by posing in a very revealing fashion. I take the sponge I’d seen in the trunk and posed as if washing the front fender of the Corvette. Of course, ‘washing’ only in the way you’d see a busty, leggy, scantily clad woman wash a car in a calendar. My back is arched pushing my ass to round out my tight shorts pointing toward the camera and pushing my hanging breasts tight against their tank top.

After we get several of me ‘washing’ the car, bending far more forward than is necessary, we move on to several classic ‘girl leaning against car’ poses. Next up is an interior set showing off the beautiful blue interior complimented by my bright sparkly blue nails. When we get a few more poses, showing off me as much as the car, Louis says he has everything he needs. But before he packs up, I give him a sly smile and suggest one more pose.

Admittedly this is the pose I was thinking about when asking Sarah about the cage. Having me sit on the edge of the hood, legs spread wide, hands on my knees, leaning forward with as sexy of a smile as I can imagine, ends up being the photo of the day. And there’s no way I could have done it with the bulge of the cage under my denim short shorts.

After packing everything up Louis drives us over to a copy shop that opened early just for him in order to print out several of the photos. While we wait for the poster sized image as well as the 4x6s to hand out to fans, I have Louis send me digital copies of the images and use them to set up social media posts that I’ll post throughout the day. I make sure the last one of the evening is me sitting on the hood of the car with the tagline “(You Drive Me) Crazy” and back it up with the classic Britney Spears song.

The car show itself is a little more low key than I thought it’d be. It’s set up in a corner of the mall parking lot and has about two dozen cars. There’s a wide range of cars here from a rusty 1976 Honda Accord to a pristine DeLorean. Louis’ Corvette is in between those extremes as it’s clearly a collector car that’s in good condition but it’s nowhere near perfect.

I help set up the poster and a table for Louis to sit at while he talks to some of the other car owners. I even take time to look over the poster Louis has of the transformation. From its humble busted up beginnings to its current repaired state and even several drawings indicating what he plans on doing next.

There are several prizes available at the car show but it’s clear that Louis isn’t going to win any of them. The ‘Vette isn’t as rare as other sports cars at the show, nor is it restored as fully as some. It’s not as powerful nor as custom. But that doesn’t seem to bother Louis one little bit. He seems genuinely appreciative to just talk to the people looking at his car and telling them about it.

As he goes over the restoration process for the fourth time, I head over to get us some drinks at a food truck that is set up nearby. I hate thinking that I might be getting more attention than Louis’ car, but several people find me in line and have me sign their photos of Louis’ Corvette.

After handing the photo and Sharpie back to the man who’s probably old enough to be my own dad, I put on my best Princess Babydoll smile where it immediately freezes on my face. Strolling down the row of cars without a seeming care in the world is Todd. I only stand still for a moment before pushing past my fan and rushing behind the food truck. Mentally I start making out a path that will get me back to Louis and start debating internally if I’ll tell Louis that I have to leave on my own or if I’ll ask him to leave with me.

A moment later I peek around the corner of the food truck and let out a long sigh of relief. I see Todd meeting up with a group of his friends and making a bee line toward the mall. Just as they slip into the doors near the Bed Bath & Barn I hear behind me a teasing voice “Damn babe, that ass is just begging to be smacked!”

I turn around, readying myself to give this obvious jerk a tongue lashing… and not the type he’s seeking… but hold up short as I see he’s not alone. The guy is younger than I took him to be by his voice. Either a freshman at college or maybe even a high school senior. He’s wearing a Green Bay Packers hat and a football varsity jacket from a local high school. For all intents and purposes, he looks like a fine young man, but that appearance stops at his eyes. While the rest of his face is smiling, his eyes just look cruel. His friends don’t come across any friendlier, with one wearing a silly-looking black trench coat and the other wearing a Packers hoody.

I try my best to relax my shoulders and put on a smile. Maybe he’s just a young fan and doesn’t know how to properly treat women. Giving him the benefit of the doubt I step forward, my voice already going into my well-practiced teasing tone. “Hiya guys! I’m afraid my ass is off limits, but I’d be happy to sign one of the car photos if you’d like!”

While varsity jacket guy steps closer his hoody wearing buddy walks around behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I see that he’s turned back toward me but is clearly blocking my way out. And as we’re behind the food truck, we’re now out of view of the crowd. We’re all but alone.

My thoughts are interrupted as my fears are confirmed when I feel varsity jacket guy’s hand grip my shoulder. I snap my head back to look at him so fast that one of my ponytails actually brushes over his face. As his other hand lands on my hip he sneers and says “Nah sugar, we’re not lookin for your autograph.”

It’s one thing to have my digital audience type out teasing and inappropriate comments while I stream. It’s part of the show and I fully admit that I encourage it as while they might be disgusting, those are the same audience members that tip and pay most often. But experiencing something like that in real life, with three young men treating me like a sexualized piece of meat, is beyond disorienting. I feel my heart start beating faster and faster as my mind whirls and I try to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Initially, when I try to step backward, varsity jacket guy’s hands grip tighter on my shoulder and hip. It’s only momentary but it’s clear he’s strong enough to stop me from moving freely. When he relaxes and lets me back up I only have a brief moment of freedom as I back right up into his trench coat wearing buddy. Trench coat guy’s hands grip my arms, just above my elbows, and pulls me tight up against him. Tight enough that I can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against the curve of my ass.

With my heart feeling like its trying to beat its way straight out of my chest I turn to look over my shoulder at trench coat. Just as he comes into view, he leans forward enough to meet me, pressing his lips against mine. I let out a little disapproving whine and turn my way out of the **** kiss just in time for varsity jacket to release my shoulder and grip my chin. He steps close making me a Sadie sandwich between their bodies, my breasts pressed against varsity jacket, my ass pressed against trench coat. Varsity jacket’s voice drops any semblance of playfulness or niceness when he says “Hey, don’t be a tease bitch. You don’t dress like this and not wanna play.”

I’m again denied the ability to respond as he leans further forward, kissing me. I can feel trench coat actually grind against me as he lets out a low cruel chuckle right at my ear while I’m being molested by his friend. Worse, he seems intent on making this kiss more than a peck on the lips as I feel his tongue slide over my plump pink lips. It may have been instinct or habit to open my mouth and let his tongue French its way in but I had absolutely no intention of being a passenger in this ****.

I waited just a moment for varsity jacket to relax into the kiss before I opened my eyes and bit down onto his tongue. Seeing his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets was almost worth the price of that defiance. His muffled cry clearly carried his pain and surprise until I tasted his blood and opened my mouth, letting him go. As he stepped back I turned back toward his friend. I’m sure the bit of blood running down my chin added weight to my words. “You’d better let go of…”

Unfortunately, varsity jacket didn’t take my bite as the end of our interaction like I’d hoped. I felt him step back forward and again grab my shoulder. “You’ll pay for that whore!”

When I turned back to face him I saw his hand swinging through the air with just enough time to thank God that it was open instead of clenched into a fist. Even with the mercy though, he still smacked my face hard. As in, seeing stars blooming in front of my eyes, hard. As in, hearing a ringing in my ears, hard. As in, falling limp against trench coat, hard.