And for you.
Table Cloth
Don smoothed out the table cloth, making sure it reached the floor. No one in the room could see beneath the table, and that was just as well. He’d been sitting at his table since the club opened, and he’d be there until it closed. That was the only way to be sure, the only way to keep his secret.
The glass next to his hand was never empty, and the staff was very attentive, but even they didn’t know. They didn’t comment on the fact that he never even got up to go to the bathroom, or that he was so meticulous with the cloth; they didn’t notice the occasional looks of relief or joy on his face. Or if they did, they never said a word about it. He doubted they knew, though; she had excellent hearing, and whenever someone came near the table, she would stop, even if it meant just kneeling there with her lips wrapped around his cock.
Don didn’t stand when the two men sat down across from him. He shook their hands as they introduced themselves, but forgot their names as fast as he heard them. His mind was elsewhere, and she was making it very hard for him to stay focused. A soft, warm tongue, all the energy of youth, and all the desperation that a locked chastity belt and a week of teasing can provide made for quite a bit of distraction.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, long years of practice keeping his breath steady and not betraying the mouth under the table. “I take it you’re here about the ad.”
“Is it true?”
Don nodded. “Do you have references?” The men each handed him a piece of paper, names of people who vouched for them and results of simple medical tests. Everything looked to be in order, perfectly safe for the thing under the table.
He gestured for the men to move in closer, then tapped twice on the top of the table. He slipped his hand under the table and dried his cock off, but didn’t put it away.
The man on the left jerked in surprise when his fly was lowered, then bit his lip as she went to work. He laughed a little. “I can’t,” he breathed, “can’t believe it’s true.”
“The evidence is right there,” Don said, smiling. “My sweet little puppy, my baby girl getting used like the filthy whore she is.” He leaned forward somewhat conspiratorially. One of the men leaned forward to hear him, but the other was already lost to the world around him and wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. “Do you realize,” he said, his voice a stage whisper, “that she hasn’t even seen his face. She hasn’t seen yours either. She didn’t hear your names, and she is going to have absolutely no idea who you are.” He smiled at the man. “And yet she’s servicing your friend here, and will service you after she swallows his cum. Then you two will go about your days, and she will never know whose cocks she sucked. And since you can’t see her, you won’t know either. There’ll be no way for her to ever find out.”
The man shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he said. “I can’t believe she’s really doing it.”
Don shrugged. “It’s her choice. She can tap out any time. I would never force her to do this. She’s just a wanton slut with a craving for cum and less dignity or self-control than your average puppy.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“Of course,” Don said. “She goes home with me.”
“But she’s sucking some other guy’s cock.”
Don smiled. “Exactly. Some random guy.”
“What if she prefers him to you?”
“What if she does? She won’t know who he is.”
The other man bit back a moan, but was drawing attention to himself. Don slapped his hand down on the table, making the plates jump. The man suddenly came back to himself, looking first disappointed and then surprised and then embarrassed. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Sorry,” he said.
“No problem,” Don smiled at the man’s embarrassment, and his keen ears heard a second zipper coming undone. The man he had been talking to before coughed and fought to not let his eyes roll back in his skull.
“Is she going to finish?”
Don shrugged. “Probably,” he said. “She does have hands too.”
The man jerked in his seat. Then he smiled. “Yes, she does,” he said, his voice cracking. He took a deep and shaky breath to compose himself, wiped his hand down his face, and looked at Don. “So, um,” his jaw tightened for a moment as he tried to resist her practiced touch. “What about her, you know,” he made a lewd miming gesture, one that wasn’t hard to parse.
“There’s a band of steel around her waist,” Don said. “Then another band that goes between her legs. She’s all locked up and plugged in, I’m afraid.”
The man nodded, took a sharp breath, and smiled. “I just thought I’d ask,” he said. “No offense.”
Don smiled again. “None taken. Why should I be offended that you wanted to fuck her cunt hole? She knows she’s nothing but property; why not treat her that way?”
“So why did you lock her up then?”
Don shrugged. “Partly to remind her that she belongs to me. Partly to keep her excited and aroused. Partly to make sure the only pleasure she can feel is the pleasure she provides for other people. For strangers.”
“Wow.”
“And then, of course, there’s the other reason.”
“Which is?”
Don’s smile was as soaked with mischief as, judging by the man’s sudden jolt and gasp, his girl’s face was probably soaked in cum. “Because I can.” He said. “It amused me.”
“So, um, out of curiosity,” the man reached beneath the table. Don heard him zipping up, and he sat straighter, putting his hands on the table and twining his fingers together. “Has anyone else been here today?”
“Today? Oh, you guys are somewhere around nine or ten. I don’t really recall. Yesterday was a bit slow, but it was a weekday, so that’s to be expected.”
The man laughed and shook his head. “Holy shit,” he said. “How often do you do this?”
Don smiled but didn’t answer. Let the man think it was an everyday occurrence. Let HER think that it might become one. Let her imagine for a while the prospect of spending her days under the table, sucking strange cock, swallowing strange cum, used like a cheap sex toy. He heard the soft sound of her moan, and knew that the timing wasn’t coincidence.
“And what do you get out of this?” the man asked. “You didn’t ask for money or anything.”
Don chuckled. “She’s not a hooker,” he said. “When I call her a filthy whore, I don’t mean it literally. She’s my girl, my puppy, and I love her. I wouldn’t just sell that pretty mouth of hers.”
“No, you give it away.” The man said. “To strangers.”
Don shrugged again. “Strangers with references,” he said. “Strangers that I know are safe. She trusts her daddy to keep her safe, to make sure she can indulge in these wanton and unquenchable debaucheries without having to worry about getting arrested, diseased, or worse.”
“Yeah, sure,” the guy said, not wanting to suggest that Don wasn’t being careful. “Are you getting a kickback from the doctor or something?”
“What do you mean?”
“The tests,” he said. “It was like I was going into a germ warfare lab. Or coming out of one.”
“Can’t be too careful.”
The second man was clenching his fist, looking like he wanted to bang it down on the table. He was sweating, but staying quiet. Doing what he was supposed to do.
“But what do you get out of it?” the first man asked.
“Joy,” he said. “Plus, in between when people stop by,” he took a sip of his drink as the second man started catching his breath and reaching under the table to zip himself up.
“In between when people come by,” Don said again, tapping his fingers on the table, “What do you think she’s doing? Resting?”
He winked at them as her warm mouth wrapped itself back around him.
The two men got up and shook his hand again. “Forgive me if I don’t stand up,” he said.
They laughed.
And under the table, so did she.
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