Her Master's Slut

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Casey’s Lounge was a hide-hole for cheaters. It was dark enough to squelch candlelight, vacant at noon except for the bartender, and smelled like bleach and burnt cigars. Pictures of undressed women and hard bodied men decorated the walls, and the bathroom door identification signs read, “Sir” and “Slut”. Even though she had dressed like a lady, Robin suspected the barman knew a slut when he saw one.

In shadow, Shawn lounged at a rear booth. He had a lecherous grin on his face, his eyes spewed fire like an omnificent landlord collecting rent, and arriving at his table, Robin prattled like a middle age virgin. ”I’m sorry Shawn,” she said. “This is a mistake. I should go.”

Shawn expected the vacillation, however. He snaked her onto the seat beside him. “Hey Charlie,” he yelled across the worn out gray linoleum, “two Budweiser’s.”

Robin fidgeted; the soft hair at her neck’s back stiffened as she absent-mindedly twirled her hair into circles, her index finger shook. “I hate beer,” she squeaked.

”Relax—baby, today you don’t.” From above his red and black checkered flannel shirt, he drew a smirk that made her wet, and reaching beneath the table, he gripped her stocking encased knee with a callused hand that made her squirm. “What’s your first name Mrs. Miranda?”

She could lie but her resolve was deficient, and Charlie had arrived with the Buds and Shawn’s piercing expression carbon copied her fathers’ when he was alive and angry.

”Robin,” she squeaked, her voice in chaos and her n*****s punching up the fabric of her blue silk blouse like two traitorous prairie dogs.

“Fine, Robin,” he said, voice hard and unyielding. “From now on I’ll call you Slut. You are a slut aren’t you, Robin?” He crossed eyes with the barman who slid beers across the table. “Robin’s a slut, right Charlie.”

“Whatever you say, Shawn…”

“Two more Buds and a couple burgers…”

Robin’s mouth gaped as Shawn squeezed a hand between her thighs and petted her p***y. “Take a pull, slut.” He passed her a Bud bottle. “I live in the apartment on the second floor.”