I can't tell you how many times I've jerked off to this one.

Four men sit at a small card table. One is my owner, and the three others are friends he can win a great deal of money from. They are gentlemen, drinking whiskey, smoking cigars, sleeves of their button-up shirts rolled up and ties loosened. It is Friday, they have all been paid, and they all seek to win or lose some of it tonight.
I am kneeling on a pillow on the floor next to my owner, silent. I wear a collar around my neck and a chain hangs from the collar. I notice it every time I move, and the slightly sound of the links moving against each other is not something he wants to hear, meaning I stay as frozen as I can. He strokes my head periodically, and I resist the impulse to lean into his hand. It is an absent-minded gesture, and if he hear the clinking, he will notice the affection that the curling of his fingers around my ears feels like. Now and then he lets his hand drop over my face and I kiss his thumb, his palm, the tips of his fingers, knowing how this makes him smile. Other than those small tightening of my lips, forming a kiss and then melting away, I am a statue. I am on my knees, and he has let me sit on my feet and I know what this means. This means he doesn't want me to squirm, to request comfort. I wait.
And in those moments where the drinks are empty, or someone is hungry, I come alive. He tightens his hand over my chain and tugs me up a little. I nod and ask each man if he would like a refill. They are all polite, saying 'thank you' or 'no thank you' in response. I walk off to refill each glass, returning and passing them out, walking slowly around the table and attending to the needs of each player. Once everyone's needs are met, I walk back next to my owner, standing beside him. For my good service, he takes my chin and pulls my face down to meet him, kissing me on the lips. This makes me smile.
I wear a small dress, my ass peeking out from underneath the hem. I have cuffs on my hands, waiting for use like a gun in the first act of a play. My feet are bare, and I am required to walk only on my toes as I serve them. I wobble sometimes, but steady myself each time.
"What was my request, other than your devoted service, while you are at this table?" He says, his lips inches from mine and wet from my tongue.
"To remain wet, Sir."
"Good girl, stand and spread your legs."
I do, my back going straight and sucking in my breath a little as I open my legs, still balanced on my toes. His fingers do not even pretend to tease my inner thighs, as they simply seek to answer: have I done my job?
To his delight and mine, I am still wet, my clit is still swollen. His fingers slowly rub and press over my clit, making my strained thighs tremble. I bite my lip, letting a quiet moan pour out of my mouth.
"Good girl." He stops, pulling the chain for me to bend, and shoving his fingers in my mouth to clean. I suck them eagerly. He pulls his fingers from my lips and kisses me once more. He turns back to the game, pointing to the pillow.
I sit back down, leaning on his leg and chair.
I drift off in my mind, waiting for my cue to move again. I float, trying to remain poised and quiet as I serve.
I hear them laugh and my ears click back to the conversation. "That's fair." He looks down to me, lifting my head, his hand on my chin, pointing across the table with his other hand to a friend in a blue, striped tie. "He's having a bit of a rough game. Go make his night a little better." I nod, standing. He grabs my chain and I stumble a step back. "Crawl."
I get down on my hands and knees, crawling around the table and then underneath, opening his pants. I pull out his cock and begin to stroke it, slowly moving my hand up and down the shaft. I squeeze softly and feel him shift towards me.
I open my mouth and place my lips around his head, licking the slit and just wetting his cock with my mouth. He hear him groan, and can't imagine this will actually improve him game. I wonder if my owner is simply trying to end the game while he is doing well. I continue to lower my mouth, sliding down and lifting back up. Each time I bob on his cock I bring him deeper into my mouth. His hands find the back of my head and squeeze. He has already folded this hand. I smile at my owner's ingenuity. He must have a good hand.
I suck, my hands moving to his balls, teasing them and pulling the skin. He moves up towards my mouth and I suck eagerly, lost in his cock until I hear my owner's voice, and his hands pull the chips into his pile.
"Turn, lets watch her." I lean up a little, but he holds my head down on his cock. He shifts in his chair and my mouth does not leave his cock as he shifts and I shuffle over on my knees. I hear them comment on what a good girl he has, and I know he is swollen with pride. Among other things.
My owner stands, walking over and pulling my hair back. I suck, letting him thrust softly into my mouth. "Let him use your mouth, but your lips are mine."
He pulls his cock out of my mouth and I kneel, opening my mouth as wide as I can and sticking out my tongue. He comes back, rubbing the tip of his cock on my tongue, stroking his cock into my mouth. I hold my arms behind my back, trying to look up at him from my knees. Spit drips from my mouth, making a bee-line for the floor in front of my knees.
My owner holds my hair, keeping my face steady while his friend slaps his cock on my outstretched tongue. My owner nods to another one of his friends to come over. They whisper, and he leaves and returns with a roll of tape. They roughly fold my arms behind me, hands holding elbows, and tape my forearms together, letting me know that there will be nothing but misery when they pull the tape off. Spit continues to drip off my tongue as precum begins to drip onto it.
They stand me up, and I lift to my toes. My owner hands my leash off to one of his other friends. "Be my guest," he says.
His friend leads me a few steps and they gather the glasses, coated in icy water and still full of ice and place them in either hand. My short fingers struggle to hold multiple glasses.
They pull down my dress to just under my breasts, pulling on the nipples until they are rigid and just beginning to get tender. They begin to slap my tits and I whimper, making them each smile to himself. They smack each over and over, my nipples becoming more and more sensitive. Red hand prints begin to appear on my skin and I watch one of his friends walk behind me. The fingers of one hand trail over my hip while the other raises and comes down in a pop. I jerk forward, gripping the glasses as tight as I can. I barely stumbling towards the other one slapping my breasts back and forth and his fingers hit my breast bone, making me gasp.
They continue to strike, ignoring the other and giving me no rhythm to brace for. I am simply holding my breath. One hand comes down hard on my ass, one cheek and then the other. I watch as his third friend walks behind me and in a full wallop two hands come down on my ass. I stumble completely forward, falling off my toes for the first time that night and letting the glasses slip from my hands.
Everyone stops and all I can hear is my breath. Tears well in my eyes and I want to beg forgiveness of my owner. I have failed him. He tried to show was a perfect girl I was and I have failed him. I am devastated.
They speak but I can barely make out what they say. My mind is reeling.
"Lay down on your back." I do. They move slowly, walking around me. Two kneel beside me, each grabbing a leg. They are such kind men, they push back my legs, spreading them. My pussy is exposed, opened for them.
"Beautiful" says the one in the blue tie.
"You have a lovely girl, here," says another wearing glasses.
I can feel ice and cold whiskey on my back. My owner nods to the one in the red tie, who comes to the front. He taps one of the men holding my legs back and I sense they have a plan for me. I watch as the one in the red tie unzips his hands and pulls out his cock. He strokes it a few times before sliding it inside my pussy with a groan.
"Excellent little cunt you have here."
My owner takes his thumb and begins to work my clit, pulling and teasing it. I arch, still laying on my folded arms, and writhe against the two men fucking me so effortlessly right now. And then I feel it.
The tip of a thin, relentless cane begins to come down on the bottoms of my feet. This will teach me to fall off of my toes. I wiggle and struggle but they hold me steady as the red tie's cock continues to thrust inside me, pushing all the way in and pulling out.
"Would you like to try her?" He nods to the gentleman in the glasses, who has yet to put his cock anywhere near me.
The caning is rendering my feet numb. I try to restrain myself from flexing my foot, leaving each pointed with the soles up and read for my discipline. It will be days before I can walk comfortably as I feel white heat moving towards numbness.
He nods, thanking my owner for his generosity. The man with the red tie continues to fuck me, thrusting harder and faster until he is satisfied with his sampling of my pussy. He places his cock back in his pants and they exchange places.
The man with the red tie has a thicker cock, and does not bother to stroke himself before thrusting deeply inside me. I cry out, fighting so hard they almost let go of my legs. My arms feel as if they are about to fall out of their sockets, strained behind my back.
He fucks me harder than the other one, but my owner's fingers on my clit are relentless. I squirm harder, fighting to pull back. My pussy feel so tender I want to explode, but all I can do is scream and whimper and cry out.
"Would you like her to cum on your cock?" The gentleman with the glasses nods, thanking my owner again. My owner turns back to me and stops the caning of my feet, where the skin is threatening to split open. "Show them how good of a girl you are."
I nod, eyes squeezed shut, black mascara tears beginning to run down my cheeks.
The man's thick cock slows, pushing in and out in a more quiet, languid manner. My owner's fingers move harder on my clit, flicking back and forth as I drip onto the floor underneath me.
They work slowly, building faster, pushing harder, thrusting deep into my cunt. My cries and screams turn to moans, gasps. I begin to beg, pleading with them not to stop. Each focuses on his part, but each work in tandem. Fingers and mouths graze my thighs, leaving lines and gaps of electricity in their wake.
Each plays his part perfectly, and then together. Each deep thrust is matched with the whir on my clit. I am moaning and they are relentless. I fight, I struggle, but I beg to cum.
"No. Wait."
I nod, struggling as hard as I can. This is the largest fight I have hand to undertake in years.
"Please, please, Sir. Please, I can't wait." I cry out more and he looks at me, his face serene, his fingers destroying my clit.
"Did you try to be a good girl tonight?"
I nod, tears welling in my eyes.
"Did you try your hardest?"
I nod harder, squeezing my eyes, black tears spilling out on either side.
"Are you going to cum hard for me?"
I nod, opening my eyes, pushing back against the man's cock, against my owner's fingers, against my own body which aches to cum. I stare him in the eyes, letting him know of my sincerity, my desperation.
"Then cum for me."
I nod and close my eyes, screaming, bucking wildly. They hold my legs tighter, pinning them back as a writhe and struggle. I watch them flex, taking all of them just to hold me down. I cum so hard I fear I may black out, every ounce of tension exploding out of me in a long, sustained, painful orgasm.
I collapse on the floor and they mill about, wiping their brows and exchanging chips for real money. They all make small talk for a few more minutes and collect their things, which I have laid out so nicely on the bed.
My owner lifts me and I am dazed as scissors take off the black tape, and my arms are rubbed back to feeling. He helps me stand and undress, and I move immediately to the tub, where I welcome the steaming hot water which is unleashed onto me. I soak. I sit. I breathe.
He does not speak. He simply pushes my hair back behind my ears and kisses the top of my head. Water runs over me, washing me blank again.
I am a mess. I am lost. I am bliss.

I apparently have something on the brain.

We've been drinking since... brunch? I match her drink for drink, like I always do. One by one friends trickle out and go back to their lives until we are the only ones left to stay and drink. There's nothing like being tipsy in the late afternoon. There may be nothing more beautiful than a swollen orange sun lilting through a tall glass of cold beer. Especially when you're with someone who makes you wet.
She's got solid, broad shoulders and wears a button up shirt well. Long, jet black, grab-able hair. If she were wearing a loosened tie I wouldn't be able to hold back. It's her hands, though, that I want most. They're strong, and just rough enough to where I can imagine them on my nipples.
I feel it every time her leg presses against mine under the table. I feel it push against my thigh. I feel it in my nipples, which straighten and tighten and swell. I feel it tingle in my clit, beginning to ache from the day and the alcohol. I feel it in my cunt, which starts to pulse and soak my panties.
Her hands have become more courageous as the day has worn on. They casually run over my forearm, my back, and have finally begun brushing my legs, leaving trails of heat and then simply cold and lacking.
Black ink crisscrosses her tan forearms. They flex when she reaches for her glass, and the patterns curve slightly more. It's fucking gorgeous.
"Lets play pool."
I'm shit at pool. She nods her head to the table, and walks ahead of me, pulling quarters out of her pocket. The pools table's in a back room, and I follow her, watching her strong and unapologetic gait. We tuck away in the room, placing tall glasses on the side of the table. She racks and I watch, holding a cue. I watch every move she makes, and while my eyes are locked on her arms, hips, ass, and legs, I barely notice her turn around to watch me watch her. She watches my lips purse, watches my chest swell. She watches me suck softly on my bottom lip, letting it pop out wet and red. She watches as I notice her, and she watches me blush.
"Break." I finally say, my voice soft and blushing.
"Whatever you like, Princess."
She smiled and bends, breaking the balls with a huge clack, and they ricochet. Every time it is my turn, I make sure to bend for her, letting my ass shift and sway. I arch my back, sit on the edge of the table as she shoots, wait until she is watching me to move. She knows what I'm doing, and she doesn't stop me.
I bend over, and I finally feel her hand on the small of my back. I smile, returning to the pressure against her hand. She presses harder, and I press back. She finally pushes with all her weight and I collapse down on the table with a thump. I turn my head but she grabs my hair and puts it back in its place.
"Look forward."
I nod.
"Take the cue and hold your arms straight out, but don't let them touch the table."
I do as she says, holding my breath. Her hand disappears from my back and I take a large breath, which she immediate spanks hard out of me.
I reel from the pressure and pain, the searing sting on my ass, the slam of my hips into the table.
"Don't lower your arms."
I hold them onto an inch or two from the table, but perfectly straight out. She spanks me again, and I suck in a breath this time. Her hand comes down again on my ass, hard. I am still wearing a skirt, so she doesn't bother warming me up. She simply begins to come down hard on my ass in rhythmic blows.
"If you can take ten more in silence you can lower your arms."
I nod and she begins slowly. Each one is powerful and I ache to whimper. I bite my lip and breathe quickly through my nose, trying to hold back my voice. Three, four, five smacks and I am aching.
After the fifth she pulls down my tights, lifting my skirt without hesitation. I am bare-assed for her and whoever comes into the back room of the bar. I squeeze my eyes tight, and when I open them all I see are multi-colored balls on endless, soft green. I want to lay my head down but I hold myself up, the pool cue shaking but not dropping. Six and my breathing is ragged. Seven and I am trembling. Eight and I am shaking. Nine and I let out the smallest, most regrettable chirp in the back of my throat. She stops. I breathe, wanting to cry. The muscles in my arms are aching and tense.
"Start at one. No noise."
I want to cry out, I want to beg, but mostly i want to put the cue down. I breathe through the first several, my mind floating as I feel endorphins flood my body. I know I can get through this and be a good girl for her.
Five and I am visibly trembling. She walks around the table and I am desperate for the reprieve. With this moment, I breath a little easier.
She removes the cue from my hands and I do not let them fall. I am nervous. She picks up the eight ball and the cue ball and places on in either hand. Their weight is almost too much; I almost begin to cry.
She walks back around slowly.
"Six."
Each blow makes my hands jerks a little, but I do not touch the table.
"Do you hate me?"
I nod, my face tight, my breath held.
"Breathe." I do, quietly. I cannot give her the satisfaction of making me drop these balls. She got a single noise, and I am not going to give her another.
"Good girl." I smile, but only on one side. She spanks me harder, and I gasp, tightening my mouth. The burn is turning to numbness and with each bare-handed spank, I expend I am turning redder, more swollen.
"Your ass is white hot, Princess." I smirk again, snorting out a little breath of laughter.
Seven. I am resilient. With the end in sight, I tighten my grip on the balls.
Eight. I can taste relief.
"You can drop your arms on ten." I nod.
Nine and my legs have begun to shake. My knees are tightening and bracing against the table. I want the last one so much I now ache in a new way.
As soon as I feel the tenth blow I drop the balls and her hand begins to fly down, pounding over and over and over again on my ass. I cry out, and try to turn away, fighting to get out from underneath her as she wraps am arm over my waist and holds me against the table. I begin to curse at her, wriggling hard, trying to fight back as blow after blow after aching blow comes down on my bare ass. I turn enough to spit directly at her, which only makes her lean up and smack me in the face.
With her arm free I finally turn over onto my back and her hand comes down once hard on my cunt. I scream out just as she plunges her fingers deeply into my pussy. I tighten around her fingers against my will, crying out again as she proceed to thrust hard.
I lean up on my arms and she pushes me back down, her thumb nail running rough over my soaked cunt. I try and push her off, but my arms are so weak from holding them up I can barely make her notice I have touched her. I collapse back instead.
I push my hips against her hand, and she takes her other hand to push down on my pelvis, pinning me to the table. She is not even going to let me fuck her back.
This is not about me.
She climbs onto the table and sits on my waist, straddling, holding my upper body down. Her fingers pound my cunt, which is not dripping down onto the green felt of the table. My tights are around my thighs, holding my thighs together.
I push against her hands but all I can do it take. All I can do is tighten around her and curl my toes and struggle not to cum in her hand.
She pushes in a third finger and I am stretched, crying out and arching up as far as her body will let me. I push down against her hand as much as I can. I want more.
She works my clit hard, mercilessly. Her nails scrape over it, finding the spot that makes me whimper and hold my breath and focusing on it. She wants me to cum for her. All I am allowed to do is perform as told.
I struggle not to. I fight hard, trying to let my mind wander, trying to steady my breath but she is unrelenting. I don't want to cum for her. Not here.
I have little choice in the matter and I scream. I cum hard on her fingers, tensing, gripping. Her hand lets go of my pelvis and I push hard on her hand, my muscles clenched so tight I fear what I'm about to feel.
She climbs off of me and takes her hand, covered in my cum, and wipes it across my cheek. I can feel it coat my cheek, and my mouth tightens, my eyes narrow.
"Don't wash your face until you get home tonight. They should see what a slut you are."