I split and drove. I just felt the burning need to run away from home. The road calls me like I am some sort of wandering vagabond. I have tried but I can’t shake it.
I stopped in some middle of nowhere Virginia town and danced in their titty bar. Everyone was very friendly, there was a jukebox, no deejay, the stage was a little small but it was nice to have a change of scenery. It was a juice bar so I assumed that everyone who was there was there to got dances, and I was right. I met a really sweet dancer who tried to convince me to bring her along to NOLA with me.
Then out of nowhere a blog reading fan walked in, spotted me in my blond wig and came to give me all his money, adoration, and submission. It was really cute the way he just sat there sliding me money. “Do you have to continue on to New Orleans?” he asked with a twangy Virgina drawl. “Yeah sugar I need to be there by Tuesday, but if you keep passing me money like this I will come back just to visit you” I told him.
When the end of the night came I told my new money boy to meet me at the gas station. When we finally were able to locate a truck stop that was open he filled my tank and I filled his. I took him around back to where the trucks were parked. “Get on your knees” I told him. He didn’t question my order he just dropped. I lifted my skirt and shot all the piss I had been holding onto all night into his mouth. I drenched him. I wanted to tease him, make it last as long as possible, but I had to piss so bad that I just shot it everywhere. He was soaked. Completely drenched. His hair and shirt, even his pants were soaked. He got it up the nose and down the throat. He got it in his ears.
“See you next time” I said as I walked away leaving him there on his knees in a truck parking area out behind some random truck stop. I hopped in my car and headed down the road.
By the time I got to Chattanooga I was exhausted. I got a room and took a nap. A reader called on niteflirt and it turned out that he was about an hour away. He wanted to book a four hour public humiliation session. “Alright but we do the whole thing my way” I told him. “Yes ma’am, of course” he sputtered. “Is there anything I can’t do to you, anywhere we can’t go, are you important around here, will people recognize you?” I asked. “No, I am no one special” he spat out.
I met him at the bar across the street from my hotel. I ordered a double shot of whisky and a bottle of water. I gave him the whisky and I drank the water. “Give me your keys, your phone, your wallet, and my money” I demanded in a slightly raised tone. He proceeded to fork over the things. A few people at the bar noticed. “Get up and spin around so I can take a look at you. Do a little dance for me” he did a pathetic little pirouette. After two more drinks we got in his car. I handcuffed him under his legs and drove to the three strip clubs in Chattanooga Tennessee.
Once I saw them I was kind of relieved that I didn’t have to dance in these clubs. They were all kind of small and dark. Touching was not allowed. But when we got to the Puss and Boots is seemed to be a little more lenient and a lot seedier. We sat down and immediately two dancers came over. I told them that this cow was my bitch. They had no idea how to respond. I opened his wallet and gave them both a $20, handed him a piece of plastic and told him to find the ATM machine. Get as much as you can. He came back with a measly $200. “I’m sorry that was all the machine would let me have” he mumbled.
What the hell is with ATM machines limiting your amount in strip clubs. That is such nonsense, and it is bad for business.
At the same time, almost in harmony, the two dancers who approached us, Cindy and Carly ( I think), asked us if we wanted a lap dance. “Yes” I said. They took us to this little ghetto chair set up and began dancing. “Is there a champagne room here?” I asked. “Yes, sort of” said the dancer. “If we went there would you piss all over my bitch?” “Oh, what?” She seemed totally confused. “Really, you want me to pee on him” “yeah,” I said “and your friend too” “I’ll have to ask her” she said. “Obviously, go talk about it and if you are game come tell us how much”
In a few minutes they returned and said that for an extra $200 each they would piss on my cow. “Do you take visa?” I asked digging through his wallet. “I’ll see if the bartender can run it for us”
In what seemed like way too long to process a credit card we were all in the ‘private, VIP room.’ “So how do you want us to do this?” Cindy asked. “Fat boy, lay on the floor” I told him. He looked concerned. The floor was clearly somewhat sticky. It was a run down little dive, clearly some extras had gone on at this club. “Take your shirt off unless you want to be wet” I told him. He looked at me and looked at the floor. “I would like to be wet ma’am” he asserted. “Suit yourself just get down on the ground.” He laid down and I had the two dancers stand over him, pull their panties aside and aim for his face.
“Oh I can’t” one of them giggled. “I can” said the other, letting a very timid stream come drip drip dripping out. It went right into his gaping mouth. The first one let the stream fly when she saw that. She sprayed his face, and then giggled a little more, turning away. After they emptied their bladders on this cow I decided I would too. I stood over him and drenched him. I got him soaking wet. These sweet strippers were new to this but I had to pee. My toilet boy guzzled and chugged, spattering on my piss as it just kept coming out of me.
“You said you wanted to be wet” I told him. “Can one of you go get some paper towels?”I asked. In moments there was a roll of paper town. “Mop up this mess, bitch” I told him. “Then shove the nasty wad of paper down your pants. Don’t miss any. I don’t want someone to come in here and slip because of you.”
Once he had the wad of totally discusting paper down his pants we thanked our pissing strippers with a big tip, went back to the stage and watched some dancers. “Do you think you can pole dance?” I asked him. “No, ma’am. I’m not a very good dancer.
We sat there in silence until his wallet was empty. We got back in his car, I handcuffed him again but this time he was soaked with piss and had a filthy wad in his pants. “Stroke your dick while I drive” I told him. “But I’m” he started to mutter. “Ah, ah, ah! Figure it out. I want you to have an orgasm before we get back to where we started.” He started poking at it, all hunched over. I turned the music up and told him to tell me when he was coming.
While John Denver sang out the bitch said “I’m coming, I’m coming” like he was running late for a train. I turned the music down and pulled over to watch. He jerked and contorted banging his head on the dash a few times. It was delightful.
Though I wasn’t sure that I was not going to make him get out and ask directions I managed to find my way back to the shitty hotel and the bar across the street. I uncuffed him and gave him his phone and wallet. “Your keys are in the ignition” I said as I walked off into the distance.
After a hot shower and another nap I noticed that an old client of mine emailed me about an overnight just south of Birmingham. I just beat him silly, had a glass of wine, and put him to bed so I could tell you about my adventures.
There were a couple of road side piss stops that did not involve anywhere near as much interaction. Just a couple stops at the gas station, use the human toilet boy bathroom, head on down the motorway. Sexy, quick, and dirty.
I should be in NOLA tomorrow afternoon. Meet me in the quarter for a drink.