Discovery Avenue

Drug Whore Party - Part 7

Three thirty in the morning. Another text from Anna he'd managed to read before his restraint, please come home I am worried about you! xxx. Peter had no response. He'd been tied to a wooden chair in a warm room which consisted of fabric booths and a bunch of half naked women prancing around drinking shots. They were sniffing cocaine, long lines either off the edge of the private bar, or off the edge of another woman's ass. The Scotsman, now mild mannered, was joined with two in another booth, sucking on their nipples whilst sniffing lines from their breasts and licking it like a lollipop. He hadn't been told what was going to happen, only that if he tried to escape they'd kill him. He believed it. He had to believe that, because he was still drunk and if he messed around now he might not make it home to Anna. 

A small and miserable party with drunk, drugged up whores. Blonde, brunette, red head, but mainly blondes filled the room. They had been pampering each other, some heavy petting to Peter's disgust. The Scotsman, tit filled mouth, coke filled nostril kept him quiet. Jung and Glen had gone into a room marked as private entry and had not returned. Peter wondered what they had done with the pistol, and if the police would be coming to look for him. A few times since arriving, to his nauseated dismay, a few girls had tried to lure him in to taking drugs. He'd refused, even though they had sat on his lap naked, and offered him a "wild ride". He was sure it would be wild, when he attempts to get free and escape. Such a simple evening, to go and get drunk and now sat, sore assed, rope bound to a wooden chair in a degrading room. 

The furniture looked expensive though, and the bar was small enough to pass for a high end living room. But, the presence of restrooms for men and women told him that it was a bar, most likely private he assumed. He also surprised himself being able to think so clearly. He had a thought, if he played along and decided to take some drugs, it might give him the clarity and energy he needed to get out of there. Distract the Scotsman, or keep him distracted, get one of the girls to untie him and then make for the nearest exit. 'Drug whore,' he mumbled to himself. A blonde bombshell, early twenties with pink knickers walked past and laughed at him. In her hand a big bottle of unopened champagne. She sat in the booth with now drunk scotsman, and cracked open the bottle. The women around the table screamed and cheered as their exposed breasts were covered in alcohol. One brunette with huge knockers started bouncing around, and Peter wanted to have a feel. But he couldn't get distracted himself, no. 

'I want some now,' he called out. The scotsman flipped him off without even looking but the girls looked interested. A few wandered over to his lonely chair in the corner. Two blondes and a brunette. No older than thirty he thought. Their faces red from the flushing and their breasts bearing pebble beads of sweat. 

'Which one you want babe?' the brunette had a European accent, probably eastern. He actually preferred her, her face was more symmetrical and her eyes dark from mascara. Not that it mattered, but he could see her vagina through her see - through white panties, v-shaped. 

'You,' he said, projecting a fatigued confidence which would wear off rapidly. The two blondes gathered around the brunette and the pair each took their turn to snog her face off, like a sick farewell, as if Peter were about to take her virginity or something. They finished their lesbian display and found the cocaine on the bar again. 

'Do you want a line in me?' she flirted, fluttering her eyes, beginning to rub his shoulders and caress his head and neck, letting him feel the full flesh of her breasts. The perky nipples tickling his ear as they brushed over them. 

He had to be imaginative to get out of this nightmare. 'Can we go somewhere a bit more private?' He tried to focus but his head throbbed and disorientated him. He couldn't move his hands. She looked to the scot who was looking the other way. When she turned back, her hazel eyes enticed him. Temptation has already got the better of me tonight, he thought.

'Babe, you want to go into a private room?' her voice drawing out each syllable with a sensual moan. He could feel himself getting hard, and he really didn't want to. She then began to touch around his legs, and he was stiff. The young woman found his groin, feeling his erection, she proceeded to then slowly dance onto his lap. God no, no, no!

'Yes, private room,' he moaned. He really didn't want her to ride him like this. Anna was all he could think of, what on earth would she think, what would he think if he let himself be seduced by a coke whore. She jumped up, ass jiggling as she did so.

'Fine, follow me.' That must have been a joke because he was tied so tight he couldn't even scratch his own wrist, and his hands were tied together behind his back. 'I am kidding babe, you stay there,' sexually spoken, seducing. She ran her finger over his lips, leaned in and kissed his forehead. He watched as she approached the scot, and gestured toward him. The night could not get any weirder. 

All the women including the scot froze as Glen came stumbling through the private entry door into the main lounge area. He panted and shouted, 'get out now.' Peter struggled and the girls screamed. It was chaos as they all ran for the exit, and Peter caught in the middle, knocked to the floor attached to the chair. Two minutes later and they were gone. The scot was like an invisible monster, vanished without Peter noticing. 

Then he heard the sirens, and then he heard the police shouting...