We meet up in the afternoon at some seedy motel along an old highway where Daddy has already rented a room on the bottom floor about in the middle of the building. When we get inside, Daddy props the door open, smirking at my obvious confusion. He takes me by the shoulders and maneuvers me so that I am still well within the room but easily seen by any passers-by, though there are few. Then orders me to strip. I look at him with little girl eyes, nearly tearing up but it has no effect and he again tells me to take off my clothes.
I fumble hesitantly with the fasten on my jeans, trying to stretch time. I eventually unzip them, sliding them down and stepping out. Looking to Daddy to see if I really must keep going. He simply nods.
Finally, completely unclothed, I am intensely aware of my vulnerability. Daddy lets me stand there a minute or two to soak in that feeling, watching me tremble with emotion.
As he walks to the door, I expect he is giving me a reminder of his control but will now close the door and have his way with me as I thought was planned for this meeting. I was wrong. Instead, he leans out and calls to someone who apparently had been waiting for a signal. As this stranger approaches Daddy, I see an exchange of a few bills and I hear him say something about having called a couple friends. Daddy replies that as long as they have the cash there shouldn't be a problem.
He waves the bills in my face as I try to stand still in the position assigned earlier, "Do you know what this is for, puppy?"
I have an idea, but don't wish to guess so I just lower my eyes and shake my head.
"I think you know. Mark here just gave me fifty bucks to own you for part of the evening. He owns you as much as I do now and you will give him anything you would give me. When his friends get here and give me my cash, they will own you, too. Understand?"
Mark circles me once then suddenly grabs my hair, jerking downwards so that I drop to my knees. Holding my hair so that I can't move away, he slaps me across the face, delighting in my stunned expression. My eyes a bit wet with tears, but my cunt growing even more wet, not knowing what will come next.
"Aaaw, poor little girl. Did that make you cry? What a worthless little bitch you are."
He lets go of my hair long enough to remove his pants and turn me to the side so the outside world can watch as he plunges his cock straight down my throat, grabbing my hair again and holding my head still as I gag and struggle to breathe.
"Now you have a reason to cry, slut."
And I do, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. He finally lets go and I suck in several deep breaths, coughing and sputtering yet wishing for more. I've just barely caught my breath when he obliges, putting a finger in my mouth to forcibly open my jaw as wide as possible before thrusting his cock into my throat again, this time fucking my face hard and fast. I use my lips, tongue and throat to squeeze him and milk him like the slut I've always wanted to be. It isn't long before it pays off and just before he begins to cum, Daddy reminds me that I'm not to swallow without permission.
Daddy nods to two guys at the door and I can't help but blush as I wonder if they are the friends or just happened to wander by and stop to watch. It becomes quickly obvious that they are Mark's friends when they hand over a few bills. One whispers something in Daddy's ear.
I shudder a bit at the evil grin that passes over Daddy's face. He glances to me in time to see the worried expression and the grin turns to a smirk of satisfaction.
After chatting with the guys for a few minutes, he turns and orders me to open my mouth. Seeing that I've behaved myself, Daddy allows me to swallow before nodding to the whisperer, introducing him as Dean.
I hear a jingling sound as he strolls towards me, motioning me to sit up on my heels and I can see that he has something which looks like chain in his hand. Standing in front of me, he shows me that it is chain; a choke chain, in fact. He slides it over my head and tugs on the dangling end to show me how it works. Cold and hard on my throat, it tightens a bit, making me stretch up with it. In his hand he also carried a chain leash with a leather handle which he hooks into the ring on the end of the choke chain.
"Now this is what a proper bitch should wear. Let's see if you can be a proper bitch."
He gives a quick, hard pull on the leash, making me gasp and jerk forward onto my hands.
Pulling on the lead so that I follow behind on hands and knees, he heads toward the open door. I try to resist, not wanting to be taken outside naked and crawling but the chain digs into my throat and he doesn't stop to see why I hesitate. The concrete scrapes at my knees as we step out onto the sidewalk. I curl a bit into myself in modesty as I look about to see if anyone is around. Fortunately, there doesn't appear to be anyone but the cars passing by on the highway, likely too quick to get a good view.
The sidewalk leads out into the strip of a parking lot for the motel where there are a few cars parked. Just in front of the door to the room we were in is parked a large sedan. He makes sure to lead me far enough down the sidewalk so that it does not obstruct my view of the road. Or perhaps it's vice versa.
"Sit up, bitch." Tugging upwards on the chain so that I have little choice but to obey but modestly covering myself as best I can with my hands. He slaps them down using the leather handle on the chain. "What are you doing, slut? You have no modesty. You aren't allowed it. Keep yourself visible."
The other guys have come out to watch but stand against the wall so as not to give me any shelter from my humiliation.
In one very sudden movement, my leash-holder grabs my hair, lifting me to my feet, and shoves me towards the sedan so that I fall forward onto the hood, bent over it, legs spread explicitly. The alarm sounds on the car and I can hear keys rattling behind me as one of the guys shuts it off.
I know I probably shouldn't move from this position, but I want to see if the alarm drew attention so I lift my head slightly and begin to turn back to check when I feel his hand grasp the chain just above my collar and tug. Hard. Instinctively my hands move to my throat and try to grasp at the chain cutting off my air but he swats them away. After five or ten seconds, he loosens the chain so I can get a good breath. "Now, remember that when you start trying to think for yourself."