The Box

Just another glorious clear skies day, warm sunshine dancing off the face. Passersby criss-crossing each other’s paths, strangers nonetheless.

The oddity for the moment was this medium-sized cardboard box on a stand, right near the trashcan and ashtrays. It was brown, a tad worn out, held together with tape. I knew what was inside, and a smirk appeared on my face.

She was inside that cardboard box, wrists bound to each ankle, folded into the box like the fuck toy she was. Her lips were held apart by a ring gag, and holes in the box exposed her ass and mouth to the public. A trail of saliva had escaped from her lips and stained the cardboard.

On the box, it was made clear:

Fuck this — goes by the minute — max 30!

There was a vulgarly cut coin slot on the top of the box. It was a public fuck station.

Passersby started taking notice and some fingered the wet pussy sticking out of the box. Others grew bolder and finger fucked her ass. The moans from within the box grew louder.

Soon, people started to use the box. Some thumbed the asshole while using the pussy. On the other side, another fucked the gaping mouth, while enjoying a cigarette. Coins aplenty were deposited, though some left hastily, without paying. It was a reverse Glory Hole, in all its glory.

Cars pulled up and drivers used the public amenity to cum, before driving off. The social experiment was going well, until a cop had to be bribed with the box. He left happy.

By dusk, the box was covered with cum and saliva. It could be so easily torn apart if force was applied. Yet the slut stayed inside, obediently. Finally satisfied by her effort to serve as a public fuck station, I strolled forward from the shadows of the alley, where I had been observing, and took the end of the leash. I walked into the sunset with her, both of us glowing in the orange-gold light.

In the chilly wind of dusk, the box remained, ready to be of purpose the next day.