The Licorice Kidnapping

I had sat down comfortably at the table and enjoyed a moment alone before the plug plopped inside me from behind. I had not started to explore the controls, at the time the shot I ordered had arrived at my table. I had downed the Chili shot in one go, as custom had it. You don’t break tradition, and the sweet bite of the hot Chili is to die for.

Just a moment after I downed the shot, I thought I sensed a hint of wet along the rim of the plug, but thought nothing of it. Maybe I should have?

With my mouth full of syrup, I am effectively mute, as I can’t part my lips or make as much as a hint of a sign as to what I felt at the time. Siting alone in a pub like the Gang Green is begging for it.