He did wish she would stop slapping him
He cries out through the “panty gag” that fills his mouth.
“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” she pants, grinding herself down against his pubic bone.
He tries to moan, but all that comes out is a muffled burble.
She pushes herself up and then slams back down forcing his cock deep inside her.
He grunts again
Slap! Slap! Slap!
He wants to put his arm up and stop her, but there is no give in the ropes that hold them down.
She starts to grind herself in earnest, matching the deep thump of the club’s music, pulsing the air even here in the lady’s room.
Thump, thump, thump.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” she pants as she starts to climb to her final climax.
He lets out one long moan, almost a sigh. Pain or pleasure? He can’t tell any more.
She grabs his shoulders and grinds herself hard against him.
“Oh, shit,” he tires to say, but all that emerges is an incoherent moan.
She pulls him tight, grinding hard against him and forcing his cock deep inside herself. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She screams in his ear.
He tries to turn his head, but there is nowhere for him to go.
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” she finally shudders to a halt, her arms and legs squeezing her cunt tight into his crotch.
“Oh, No!” incoherently bubbles through the sodden cotton that fills his mouth. He rolls his eyes up as his raw cock and aching balls dry spasm.
She collapses on top of him, her whole body a dead weight pushing his naked flesh onto the toilet seat and against the pipes that bruise his back.
Everything is still for a moment. Just ragged breathing and pulsing baseline.
He is just glad that she has stopped rutting. And stopped slapping his face.
Slowly she pushes herself upright. A contented glow on her face. She pats the side of his face, gently. But he still winces at her touch.
She pulls herself off him, stumbling slightly as her legs regain their strength.
He looks down at his lap. The tight rubber band at the base of his cock is making it swell bright purple. And the even tighter band around his scrotum is making his balls ache and stopping them from cuming.
Through a fog of fatigue he once again wondered if it was healthy to have his cock and balls bound so tightly for so long. Surly his circulation was being cut off. Surly there was going to be some damage. What if he never came again?
“Admiring yourself?” the woman laughs.
He looks up. Which one was she again? How many had there been? His eyes close for a moment.
Slap! Slap! Slap! “No sleeping on the job!”
“Ugh!” his face really hurt. Why did they all want to slap him?
She steps back, smoothing down her skirt.
“You just wait there,” her blond hair is tossed all over her head. “My friend will join you in a moment,” she smiles as she pulls open the bolt and squeezes passed the cubical door.
For a moment he catches a glance of himself in the bathroom mirror. A slumped figure in the dark shadows at the back of the last cubicle.
Then a dark haired girl in a thin, tight dress steps in front of him.
She smiles as she squeezes the cubical door closed and slides the bolt home.
He moans as she reaches under her skirt to pull down her panties.
His new job as washroom attendant at the Lesbos Palace was not turning out to be quite what he had expected.