Settling Debts

June didn't know what she was going to do, and when she didn't know what to do she did what she knew best. Drinking, clubbing and spending what she had on having fun to forget. The plaid miniskirt barely hugged the swell of her bottom, and she had to remember to not bend over too far lest she give anyone behind her a fair view of just how far between her pale cheeks her thong was worn. The tank top, if it could even be called that, as it was more a top to cover her bra, the bit of pink lace peeking over the top of the black tank, below it showing inches and inches of her smooth belly. The five inch heels completed the outfit, which could only be described as making her look like a raunchy slut. But that was the idea after all, because she wanted, hell, needed to get laid tonight.

That afternoon at the bank she'd ended up walking out shaken, still not understanding everything she'd been told by the loan officer. But even a girl as simple as her could understand terms like, default, foreclosure, lien abandonment and criminal charges. It wasn't her fault that Robert had lost his job and was being brought up for embezzlement, and it was certainly not her fault that the bastard had taken off to Mexico with one of the girls from the secretary pool, along with everything that he and June had in their accounts, including the 500k home loan they had taken out, a loan in his and her name. June didn't understand much of any of it, but there was one thing in particular that bothered her. How could the bank sell her foreclosed debt to someone? Was that even legal?

But she wasn't a complicated girl; spoiled, a little dumb and poorly educated, but complicated she was not. It was so much easier when she was young and fresh out of high school. Big tits, apple-bottom ass and legs to heaven and avalon. She'd learned that careful balance between being a whore, and being a cock tease, enough to land herself a husband who had a bright future with an investment firm and liked having a 'dumb but pretty' wife at home, as he had told her on many ocassions. Why he didn't even mind her elaborate spending or the sleeping around she did, after all, he was at the office so much, and sure he was probably banging a woman at work, so that made it alright.

She hadn't cried though, no, that wasn't like her, she'd save those feelings and bottle them up, and then show them other ways, like petty bitching, or taking it out on friends and family. She had a rich husband, a big house and could do whatever she wanted, when she wanted. So that was happiness, right? Only now she's walking the dance floor of a nightclub, easily four or five years older than most of the girls in here, wondering if she's still got enough looks to get by, and trying to get enough alcohol in her to forget that she's got her husbands debts sitting, like a sword, waiting to drop on her.

By about one am she'd already been into the men's bathroom twice, and behind the bar once. She'd sucked off a couple of frat boys, who then, laughingly, tossed a couple of twentys on her. At least the bartender only gave her free drinks for the rest of the night. She wasn't quite sure what she was more ashamed of, that she was being used, that she took the money, or that there was still a part of her that liked it, but wanted to cry. But a little gin to wash out the taste in her mouth, and a little makeup from her compact, and she was yet again back out on the floor, looking for a man with a cock longer than her middle finger, who, maybe, after giving him some head would take her home, just so she didn't have to go back to sleep in her car for the night. But she was angry, sad, confused and well along to getting herself drunk.

So when she felt someone grab her wrist, walking through the crowd, her first reaction was to snap around and slap the offending person. Only as she struck out, June found that her wrist was grabbed in midair, seized by a man in front of her, dressed in a sleek black suit, far too high class to fit in here. June blinked, and he smiled.

"Well that's one way to say hello." His voice was deep and mellow, reminding her of the way that cowboys talked in the old western movies. The man brought her wrists together, pulling them in front of her. "Come and drink with me, you need it." Then he simply takes her, holding both her wrists between the fingers of his right hand, guiding her along with him like an unruly child, not a doubt of expectation of her total compliance in his tone.

June went along, meekly, if only because she was a girl who knew money and power when she saw it, and perhaps, only a little, it sent a shiver down her spine to have a man grab her and take her, even for something as mundane as a drink. The man took her to a table off to the side, one that only had a single chair at it, which he sat down in. Of course she looked around, a little confused as to where she was supposed to sit, before she thought that she had the idea. Moving, she tried to slide into his lap, doing her usual sex bunny act, since that's obviously why he'd pick her out from amongst all these other girls.

What June did not expect was to be rudely pulled away from his lap even as she was sitting, causing her to stumble and flail just a little to catch herself from tipping on her heels. When she opened her mouth to protest, he yanked on her arm, pulling her upper body down, so she was kind of bending at the knees.

"No. You don't get to sit there." his eyes, a dark brown, were piercing as he looked into her own blue eyes. "You can kneel on the floor." He glances down, then back to her face.

She couldn't quite believe it, he was asking her to get on the floor? In public like this? That would be humiliating, everyone could see her. But, she reminded herself that she needed this, and so she settled herself down, kneeling with her feet tucked under her, sort of leaning onto her thigh to rest there, wondering quietly what this guy's power trip was.

"I don't..." She began, only to have him reach over and snap his fingers not inches from her face.

"No. You don't speak until spoken to." His voice was a command, something that some part of her slut-self recognized, and then promptly shut up. Obviously he'd chosen her, and he had the power to reject her or keep her in his company, and she had no power at all.

Glancing up as one of the waitresses comes over to take his order, the college aged woman glancing down at June, though her face showed more contempt than pity. The man ordered himself a whiskey neat, then glanced at June, before smirking.

"She's had enough for tonight, so instead, bring out a bowl of water." Of course the waitress opened her voice to protest, hardly one to be cowed by his expensive clothing or attitude. At least she was going to protest, until a fifty-spot was slipped onto her serving tray. The click of her teeth as her jaw shut was almost audible over the music, as she turned and walked off to the bar.

June was left to only wonder, dumbly, what in the world he'd want a bowl of water for, as she sat there looking up at him. The man reached down and touched his finger to the bridge of her nose, and pushed down, causing her to turn her face downwards.

"You'll need to learn a good bit, obviously. First things then, you don't sit in my presence, you look down until I've told you otherwise, and you'll remember your place." His voice wasn't cruel, or sarcastic, or anything else, he was just stating a fact as simple as day for her to understand. And while maybe it was the drinks, or her desperation, but something in her wanted to do as he said.

June only nodded meekly, and then sat there, wondering exactly what she was supposed to do, he hadn't even asked her name! This was so wrong, she was feeling humiliated and ashamed because she could hear people talking, not even bothering to whisper, about her sitting there like a little bitch on the floor. He just sat there, quietly looking out over the dance floor, his eyes following the curve and wiggle of girl's bodies out there, as if viewing an interesting picture, or worse, looking at a meat market. How could he just ignore her like this! And why did it bother her so much, why couldn't she just get up and walk out of here? But June felt too much terror, and even a bit of thrill, to even try to get up.

The waitress came back with the drink, and a small metal bowl of cold water, setting them both down on the table. Now maybe the waitress was in on the joke, or maybe she had a bit of the spice in her own life, but when she stood there for a few seconds too long, June knew something was up. But she never expected the man to take the bowl, and set it down on the floor in front of her.

"There you go, something to help you with the hangover you're going to have." Then he picked up his drink, having into it as he now watched her, expectantly.

Oh god, he didn't really expect her to...oh no, he did, she could see that in his eyes now. She was shaking a little, scared, the man, and now the waitress too, watching her as she looked at him, then the bowl, then back to him, as if pleading, before silently reaching to pick it up. Which earned her another snap from his fingers, and a sharp reprisal from him.

"No, you bend down and drink it like a bitch." Ok, that was the last straw for June, she wasn't going to put up with this anymore.

"I'm not a bitch! And you can't treat me like this, I don't even know you!" Feeling angry, she tried to get up, only to have him reach out and grab her hair in a fist, pulling her head back, forcing her to look at his face.

"You've sucked three cocks tonight, for money and free drinks no less." He says the words as if they are vile, something to be held over her head and used against her. "You, are a little bitch, and you'll be treated like one..." Then standing up, he releases her hair, taking a moment to brush his hands together, as if wiping something unclean from them, before he simply walks off, leaving her on the floor, shaking and lip trembling. Only she wasn't sure if it was because she was angry, or because she was so aroused right now that it scared her.

It took almost a minute for her to get her feet under her, even with the waitress standing not far away, a knowing a wicked smirk on her face, watching the ruined bitch get up off the floor, stumbling a little in her heels, before June could rush to the door, and out into the street. She'd never been treated like that before, certainly Robert was rough, but he'd always given her whatever she wanted, and men, men always fawned over her, used her sure, but they never turned their back on her.

She was so startled and shaken, she didn't even hear the van door open, and was taken by complete surprise when a black bag was pulled over her head, someone yanking hard on it, making her fall off balance, backwards, into a pair of arms, no, make that two pairs of arms. A couple of men from the feel of it, strong as hell, dragging her backwards, her screams muffled in the thick bag, as June, the slut in the miniskirt and heels, with liquor and cum in her tummy, and wadded twentys in her bra, was dragged off the street and into a van, which unknown to her, would take her away from all these problems, and into a life unlike anything she'd ever known before.