Bill interpreted the pained expression on her face as concern about driving an SUV. “Don’t worry about that, darling. It might be an SUV, but it handles better than most mid-sized American sedans. This is a Lexus, after all. I give you my personal guarantee that, when you drive it, you’ll think you’re dreaming.”
“I’d like to see that for myself.” Her asshole had been stretched so wide for so long that her only dream was to finally pop the plug out and letting her sphincter relax back to its normal petite size.
“Well, certainly. I wouldn’t expect you to buy a car before you’ve given it a proper workout. If you just let me borrow your driver’s license, I’ll arrange a vehicle for you to test drive as soon as possible.”
“Thank-you. I’d appreciate that.” He could not possibly guess how much she would appreciate a test drive. She opened her little pink purse and drew out her driver’s license. That was the only reason that she had brought a purse and that was the only thing inside. She had brought no money or credit cards to ensure that she had no way to chicken out and avoid the long walk home by calling a cab.
“If you’d like to take a seat,” he gestured to a black fake-leather and chrome bench by the back wall, “I’ll have a test vehicle brought around. It may take a few minutes, so make yourself comfortable.”
There were already a couple of other people sitting on the bench waiting for their own test drives, but there was ample room left for her.
It did not matter in the least. All the room on all the benches in the world would be insufficient to make her comfortable. Being able to take her weight off her feet meant only that she would have to rest her weight on her bruised and aching butt, as well as forcing the dildo and anal plug deeper into the most sensitive parts of her anatomy.
As she took her seat, she pulled the hem of the short dress down as far as possible, stretching the top tight against her burning nipples, and pressed her knees hard together, the better to hide the apparatus locked through her crotch and across her bald mons pubis.
She ignored the other people on the bench and they pretended to ignore her. But she was acutely aware that the men on either side were staring at her long, naked legs with hooded eyes. She toyed with the idea of short-circuiting her penalty by giving one of these men a blowjob in the nearest restroom – they were obviously interested – and then leaving directly. But she dared not. If Craig were watching the lot and did not see her in a car with a salesman, then she would not have satisfied the penalty and he could keep her locked out of her house until she returned on Monday and accomplished exactly what her instructions had specified. And there was no way she would get a test drive if she had one of these men’s jism smeared across her face. Her only option was to wait until she could satisfy the entire penalty properly.
The dealership was busy, everyone wanted to try out one of the vehicles, so she had to wait on the bench for more than three-quarters of an hour before her salesman returned. It was almost five-thirty – she had been suffering continuously for six hours – when he finally came back, saying, “I’m sorry that took so long, but we’re really hopping today. Everyone wants to drive a Lexus, you know. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your new ride.”
His pathetic attempt to sound cool fell cold on Leslie’s ears. She forced herself to stand back up on her pink stilettos and hobble after him to the lot.
The salesman insisted on holding the car door open for her, a phony display of false gallantry that gave him his best opportunity to ogle her tits and legs. When she had to step up into the driver’s seat, she knew that her hem hiked up past her crotch, giving the man a clear view of black leather and hairless skin. Undoubtedly, he did not understand that he was seeing a chastity belt over double-stuffed womanhood; instead, he undoubtedly thought that she was wearing some kind of kinky leather thong. She hoped that the sight made him horny because she wanted him to be the horniest salesman in the city.
As soon as he entered the car on the passenger side, he launched into his standard pre-test-drive spiel – another tedious ten minute lecture about all the RX’s comfort features and options. He was largely repeating information that he had already given her in the show room, but this time he could point to the actual levers and knobs. For the most part, he delivered this spiel to her tits instead of her face. While he talked, he stared at the erect nipples pressing hard against the thin pink double knit wool, not realizing that they were being pushed out by the safety pins piercing through fresh, raw wounds at their base. His eyes delved deep into the dark fleshy crevasse where her widely separated, braless breasts pushed the deep-scooped neckline away from her sternum. She wondered if he could catch a silver glint of stainless steel chain down there. He studied the choreography of her tits as they thrust and flexed against the fabric of her bodice with every breath she took.
During the entire spiel, his eyes never met hers once.
No one had ogled her tits so openly for so long since she had been trapped in high school history class in the seat next to Dirty Jimmy Gibson for an entire semester, but, now, Leslie did not care so much. Every part of her was aching in pain, aching to get this humiliation over with, aching to get home again. All she could do was to wait for him to wind up his speech and hand over the keys. That was her entire focus. Getting those keys in her hand.
It seemed like hours before he finally said, “So, let’s go for a spin.” He finally raised his gaze to her face and dangled a key on a string in front of her.
“Thank-you,” she said, taking the proffered key and sliding it into the ignition. The warm engine turned over easily and caught instantly. When she reached up to adjust the rear view mirror, she felt his eyes ogling her tits from a new perspective. Outside the car, it had been from the front, during his spiel, from the top, and now he was treated to a side view where her tit was almost popping out of the sleeveless hole. Every angle gave him new joy.
She followed his instructions as he directed her off the lot, down the street, and through the suburbs. He kept talking about the soft ride but she kept feeling the dildo bang against her the top of her cunt and the anal plug bounce in her ass every time the car hit the slightest bump. She had never before been so aware of the impact of road conditions on an automobile’s suspension. After a few minutes, she took the initiative. “I want to try parking,” she said, and turned into an industrial park.
“Of course,” he replied, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. No one had ever taken a test vehicle down this particular road before and he was not happy about any deviation from his comfortable routine.
She ignored him. She was in the driver’s seat so she was in control. She was always in control. In her own perverse way, she had been in control all day long. That was the point of her penalties – to exert control even over herself in ways that she would not like. Self-abuse is the ultimate expression of the true control freak.
She parked at the far side of an empty parking lot. It was late Saturday afternoon; there were no other cars in sight.
As soon as she was parked, she killed the engine, turned to the salesman, and said, “I want to give you a blowjob.” She felt her cheeks burn hot with shame as the words passed her lips.
“What?” The man’s eyes flew wide open.
She reached across and gave his prick a gentle caress through his pants. “Right here, right now. I have to find out if this vehicle is roomy enough for a girl like me to practice her profession. I want to take your dick out of your pants and lick and suck you until you come all over my face.”
“You’re out of your mind,” he stuttered. “No. No way. Take me back right now.”
It was not the reaction that she had expected.
“It’s okay. It’ll feel great and no one will ever know. It’s just a private thing between you and me. I want to take you into my mouth. My nice, soft, sloppy-wet mouth.” She could feel that he was hard. Why was he not pulling his dick out of his pants in eager enthusiasm?
“You’ll
get the leather seats all wet. This is a new car.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“No. I don’t do this. I don’t pay for sex.”
“Have I asked you for money? I don’t want your money. I want to make you happy. And I want to give this car a proper test. That’s all.”
“Do you think I’ll give you some kind of special deal? Is that it? You think that I’ll take thousands of dollars off the price of this car if you give me oral sex?”
“No. I’m not asking you for anything. I’m offering my services for free. I just want to make you feel good.” She gave him another little squeeze through the gabardine.
“I’m married.”
“That’s okay. I’m not asking you to divorce your wife. This will help your marriage. You never have to see me again and you’ll have a new fantasy to think about when you are with her. How often does she give you nice blow jobs?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She fumbled for his zipper. “Please. Just let me do this and then we can go our separate ways. Please.”
“No.”
“I’m begging you.” She felt her eyes welling up with tears of pain and frustration. “I need this. Please let me do it for you.” She could not believe that she had to beg a middle-aged, bald, pot-bellied, badly groomed car salesman to let her suck his dick. This was more humiliation than she had bargained for. “I really want you. Really.”
A sly look came into the man’s eyes. “Really?”
“God, yes. More than you can guess.”
“Well, then, maybe we can work out a deal, here.” He was sounding like a car salesman again.
“Whatever you want.” She suddenly feared that he would ask her for money. How much would a gigolo expect a woman to pay for sex? Any amount was too much because her purse was empty. If she promised him money, she would have to stiff him. There was a certain poetic justice to that idea – stiffing a stiffie.
But he wasn’t going to let her off so cheaply. “If I let you give me a blowjob–”
“And come on my face.”
“And come on your face, then you have to buy this car.”
“Buy this car?”
“Not exactly this car. A fully loaded Lexus RX in the color of your choice.”
“Buy a car?” she repeated stupidly. She was stunned.
“That’s right. That’s what I do. I sell cars. And this is what you do. You give blowjobs. So you do what you do and let me do what I do. You give me a blowjob and I sell you a car. That’s fair.”
That’s a fifty thousand dollar blowjob, she thought. That’s a damned expensive piece of cock. But every part of her was aching, from her feet to her ass to her nipples. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “Let me get you out and get to work.” She reached for his belt.
“Not so fast. We have to go back to the lot and sign the papers first.”
“Blowjob first, papers later,” she insisted. She feared that he might not hold up his end of the deal once she had signed a sales agreement. Even in the depths of agony, she knew to keep her wits about her. She wasn’t born yesterday. And she was not about to trust a car salesman.
He looked at her face, long and hard. She looked back with equal determination, the steel in her gaze clearly communicating that he was not going to sell a car until after he received his blowjob. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Hell. Why not? But not here. You do it back in the office after I’ve prepared the paperwork.”
She saw a sly glint in his eye despite the bland tone in his voice. He planned some kind of treachery; she would have to keep her wits about her. Which was difficult after so many hours of torture.
She pulled out of the parking space and drove directly back to the car lot. He did not bother telling her anything else about the car; she had agreed to purchase it so, as far he was concerned, he had closed the sale. Saying anything more would be a waste of breath.
She suffered miserably for another half hour, sitting in a chair in front of his desk, answering questions while he filled out form after form. She had to choose the color of the vehicle – silver – and the options – all of them – and he had to check the spelling of her name against her driver’s license before returning it to her.
Finally, there was nothing left to be done but scrawl her signature in the space provided. “Time to give you your pleasure,” was her only response, ignoring the pen he offered. “Where should we do it?” They were in an open cubicle, visible to everyone who walked by. If she had to, she would crawl under his desk but she hoped that he had a more private venue in mind. Business hours were ending, but there were still a couple of customers negotiating deals as well as all the salesmen roaming around, tidying up after a full day’s work. Sucking this man off would be humiliating enough without having to provide a show for his colleagues. “The lady’s washroom, perhaps?”
“Let’s go to the private meeting room.” She could tell by the gleam in his eye that his treachery, whatever he planned, was drawing closer. But she still could not figure out what he might be plotting. He stood and led her down a short hallway to a small room that contained a table and four chairs. When he stood aside to let her walk through the door first, her back was turned to him for a few moments. He gestured to one of the other salesman, waving frantically and pointing to the manager’s office next door.
The other salesman nodded, understanding his signal.
Inside the room, Leslie was getting straight to business. As soon as he stepped inside, she pushed the table against the closed door, the better to discourage people from barging in, then pulled one of the chairs into the empty space that she had cleared. “Come on, mister,” she beckoned, then, when he was moving too slowly, pulled him into place by his belt. As soon as he was standing in front of the chair, she dropped to her knees and unbuckled his belt. It took a minute of fumbling to work the buckle and he had to unbutton his waistband by himself because his belly put too much pressure on the buttons for her to manage without his assistance.
When his trousers and boxers were pulled down to his knees, she pushed him firmly into the chair, then bent her head over his half-erect cock, shoving her nose into his thin nest of graying pubic hair, and began working him, first licking him fully erect, then wrapping her lips around his head and sucking greedily. He tasted stale and musky, but not as bad as she had feared.
As she worked on him, she stared at his thin, gray pubic hair and thought ruefully that he sported more fur than she did on her newly waxed crotch.
She had to work on him for only a minute before his hips began bucking against the chair, thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. Once fully aroused, he grabbed her head by her hair on both sides of her scalp so that she could no longer pull back and began fucking her mouth in earnest. She wanted to gag when he hit the back of her throat, but she carried on like a trooper.
As she choked under his abuse, she would bet a considerable amount of money that the man’s wife never volunteered for this kind of treatment. Blowjobs would be a rare treat for this guy.
Kneeling with her ass stuck out over her heels, her head bouncing around from his increasingly vigorous strokes, the anal plug was stretching her in new, more uncomfortable ways while the dildo was ramming itself hard and painfully against her deepest recesses. Her pain was increasing exponentially as the seconds crept by.
Mercifully, once he began fucking her hard, he came quickly.
As soon as she felt his cock begin to pulse, she yanked her head back out of his hands, losing a few hairs, and waited for him to spray her face.
There was no spray. He dribbled.
She had to get his dribble on her face to earn the keys to her house back from Craig. She howled in frustration, scooped the drops of thick cum from the head of his prick with her finger and smeared it across her cheeks herself. That task was done.
Score one more triumph for Leslie.
But he wasn’t done; he was still pumping out more dribble. He grabbed the back of her
head and pushed her mouth down over his cock again. “Lick me clean, whore. Finish the deal.”
She licked him clean and swallowed the remainder of his cum. A deal was a deal.
When she looked up at him, he grinned down at her and said, “Now I’m sure that you’re going to sign those papers, pay the deposit, and buy that car. You know why?”
“Why?” she asked, having every intention of welching on the deal now that she had what she needed. As far as she was concerned, she’d given him more than enough charity already.
“Because your performance has been watched and recorded in living color.” He laughed. “There’s a camera hidden in that air vent behind you and, by now, the manager’s office is full of salesmen watching your every move.” He waved and she heard a muffled chorus of cheers echoing through the wall.
Another woman’s first reaction would be to twist around and try to find the camera, but Leslie felt such a wave of humiliation that she merely dropped her head in shame.
The salesman looked at the top of her head and laughed at her embarrassment. “I guarantee that, as soon as those guys saw what was happening, they popped a disk in the recorder. If you don’t sign those papers then I’ll be uploading a little movie onto the Internet and the whole world will be seeing how well you suck cock, Miss Leslie Holden. And I also know that you’re not a real whore at all. I don’t know why you went through with this charade, but you don’t suck cock well enough to earn a living at it. Besides, my assistant ran a quick check on you while we were preparing the paperwork. If you don’t want all your friends see your amateur Internet porn star performance, then you’ll sign anything I say.”
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, mostly from accumulated pain and exhaustion but also with the knowledge that her punishment was far from over. “You moron,” she replied, flatly. “I’m not in trouble. You are. If they didn’t put a disk in until they saw me dropping your pants then my face isn’t on that recording. I’ve had my back to the camera throughout. The only face on that got recorded is yours. If you don’t get to that disk and destroy it before your buddies hide it from you, then copies will be circulating around this office for years and years.” Bill’s face fell in shock as the truth of her words penetrated his slow mind. She pressed her point, “It’ll be only a matter of time until your wife sees it, either by accident or more likely sent by a malicious coworker. That Marion looks like just the bitch to do you at the first opportunity. If your wife doesn’t throw you out immediately, then she’ll be damn sure to make the rest of your life a living hell. Run Bill run. Run fast or you’ll be suffering for a long, long time. Have a miserable life, asshole.”
A Lady Pays Her Penalties Page 10