The bar closed early tonight, public custom giving way to a private party; Eve's role had changed little though: the bartender still needed to serve the drinks no matter who to or why. It was going to change pretty soon though; Mark had had that look in his eyes all evening. Eve did her best to swallow both excitement and resentment as she waited.
Then it happened.
"Party time!" Mark hollered. "Drag your ass out here, babe."
Eve sighed at his tone, but the eager looks on the guys' faces made her tingle. She wasn't sure if it was excitement or shame. No matter. Shame excited her anyway.
Eve took it slow sliding out from behind the bar. It was their first sustained glimpse of the barely-there skirt she was wearing. While the volume of revealed skin under the faded denim skirt was a perfect distraction, the shortness also afforded her the freedom of high vicious kicks.
She sashayed to the center of the dance-floor, the crowd surrounding her as she passed. Her muscles tensed, her breath brief and shallow. Hormones flooded her blood. Fight or flight. If they all jumped her at once, she'd have no chance, but they never did. But that wasn't the plan.
Mark pointed to the man in the front row. "Want to do her first? Break the ice?" he offered, grinning.
Eve didn't recognize the dude Mark pointed at. Maybe he was a new friend, maybe Mark's loser friends just blurred into each other. In any case, the guy nodded, taking two steps forward, closing the gap. He gripped her ponytail with one hand, putting the free hand on her shoulder to muscle her down to her knees.
Eve sailed with his quick moves until she was almost on her knees. Then she twisted, whipping her hair out of his grip, freeing her shoulder at the same time. In the moment of surprise, she slapped his arm away, chopped a kick into the side of his leg. Then a sweep of his astonished ankles and he was flat on his face. Her knee went to the small of his back, and he was trapped on his beer gut.
The rest of the assembled men laughed. None of them could take her, at least not alone. At least not if they didn't want to be publicly humiliated.
Mark never got tired of showing them that. Eve didn't either, if she was honest. And his friends didn't either; their moment of humiliation made hers all the sweeter for them. That was the best part. Mark liked showing off his girlfriend's fighting skills before making her helpless and vulnerable.
Eve was raising her arms in victory to the crowd when she felt Mark's hardness behind her. "Time to adjust the odds, make it fairer," he declared.
He twisted her arms behind her. In one practiced motion, cuffs shackled her wrists and elbows. The crowd clapped. Yanking her hair, he forced her down to her knees. As the crowd erupted with cheers and catcalls, he crouched down with a third pair of cuffs biting into her ankles. Finally, a steel chain connected ankles to wrists.
