Author's Note: I've included the kinks at the start of each chapter so if you don't like it, don't read it. You should however be able to skip to any chapter you want without the need to follow the entire plot. If you happen to be an artist and want to contribute any illustrations based on my stories, PM me! (I'd love to see that...)

Chapter 01: Office Bitch
Tags: No sex (yet)

Megan sighed as she looked at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. For almost five years she had worked at Chem-Silon, a major conglomerate dealing in pharmaceuticals, and was finally close to calling it quits, her eyes moving from the files and folders to the job postings she was secretly flicking through on her phone. It wasn't the work itself that was bad, it was just the sheer amount of it. More importantly, it was the fact that she had the boss from hell. Just as she was beginning to wonder about her career options, she heard her manager's familiar voice buzz loudly out of a nearby phone system.

"Jennifer!!!"

Jennifer Thomas was sitting at her desk just outside the office and practically jumped out of her skin at the summons. The poor bespectacled kid was fresh out of college and in her first role as a Personal Assistant in one of the biggest companies this side of the country. Megan couldn't help but feel bad for her. Three weeks on the job and she had already been reduced to a nervous wreck.

"Yes, Miss Coy?" Jennifer responded, immediately jumping out of her seat and hurrying through the door. Megan watched it close behind her and admitted to herself that things could always be worse.

Stephanie Coy was anything but her namesake. Brash and outgoing, she was only in her late twenties but had somehow found a way to slide through the gaps into middle management. The fact that she was a failed actress may have had something to do with her ability to manipulate people but she still created drama wherever she went. On top of that, she was beautiful...and she knew it. In fact, her looks had carried her half the distance.

She was a natural blonde but had for years dyed her shoulder-length hair a deep burgundy red, matching her fiery temper. Her skin was creamy white and just a few tiny freckles dotted the bridge of her petite, upturned nose. Her stunning eyes were a steel blue and both her cheeks and jaw line were pronounced, accentuated by her constant strict expression. She was slim too but her hips were wide and her legs were a little thicker than they could have been, owing to years of dance classes. Another failed ambition. That day, she was wearing a designer business suit, her skirt neatly clinching her trim waist and her white blouse hugging her pert B-cup breasts. Stephanie sat at her desk firing daggers at her P.A.

"Is this latté skinny?!" she asked Jennifer, already knowing the answer.

Jennifer winced, realizing her mistake. "N-no, Miss Coy. I'm so sorry, I..."

"Do you expect me to drink a full fat latté? Did you not pay attention during your training?"

"No...I mean yes, Miss Coy, but I'll get you another one right now."

"No, you won't Jennifer. I can't have incompetent nitwits like you in my department. Lord knows I've suffered enough of them. You've crossed the line this time."

Jennifer's mouth dropped. "But...but..."

"Get your things and have security escort you out. I hope you're happy. I now have to spend part of the day trying to find a replacement." Stephanie pointed to the door, tossing the cup of coffee into the waste basket with just the same amount of care that she'd fired Jennifer.

The young girl hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. From outside the office, Megan saw Jennifer emerge, shaking like a leaf and suddenly bursting into tears as she ran to the restroom. Forgetting her own troubles, she got up and hurried after her, hoping the kid wasn't going to have to go into therapy. Not that she'd be surprised.

By the time she got back to her desk, Megan had managed to comfort Jennifer just enough to make sure the girl wouldn't throw herself out the nearest window and could compose herself to where she could pile her things into a cardboard box and leave the building, which she did with streaming eyes and many sympathetic glances.

"Great..." Megan muttered under her breath as she saw the new pile of folders waiting for her on her desk with a post-it note on top that simply read:

'Jennifer's files. Sort these.'

A please or thank you would have been nice, she thought to herself as she sat down. Her phone immediately rang. Now what?

"I forgot to mention," said Stephanie on the other end of the line. "I need you to advertize the P.A. post and compile resumés for the position by the end of the week. Give me six good ones. Have them send in photos...Oh! And men only this time. You know, just to see if that makes a difference."

She hung up the phone without another word. Megan sighed again. The faster she found the bitch another victim, the sooner she could at least get back to her own work.

"Nope," said Stephanie nonchalantly, leaning back in her executive seat and throwing the resumé in the waste basket. She had barely looked at the credentials but had instead peered at the image provided with the paperwork before making up her mind. "Sounds like an idiot. Who else?"

Megan stood on the other side of the desk, folder in hand. She pulled another shortlisted candidate from the pile and handed it to her boss. A second later, Stephanie huffed and looked at Megan with disbelief.

"...What?" Megan asked.

"Are you kidding? How do you even pronounce this guy's name? I can't have people like this doing my typing if they probably don't even speak good English."

Megan peered down at the African-American man's picture and profile information. "But he was born and raised in New York."

Stephanie crumpled the file into a ball.

"I have a lot of important data to take care of. I'm not going to trust it with these types of...I mean...He's not qualified."

Wow. Megan raised an eyebrow and pushed another resumé her way.

Stephanie glanced at the photo. "Now this looks interesting..."

David didn't have much experience behind him for the position. In fact, his resumé had been left on her desk with a note attached to consider him for the role, signed by Alison Fayre, the regional director herself. Megan assumed he was a relative or friend and she simply shrugged, happy that Alison had had the grace to leave the decision in her hands and not simply force her to shortlist him. Or worse, award him the position outright. Alison wasn't that type of boss. In many ways, she was the opposite of Stephanie. For that reason alone, Megan happily added David's paperwork to her pile.

As it turned out, he was just as good looking as in his photo. Dark hair, cheekbones to die for and a bright smile. He looked like the typical all-American boy. Plus, he was tall and fit. Muscular but not too bulky. When he first came into the office, even Megan found herself wondering dreamily what sport he played in high school. Baseball maybe? Wrestling? She shook herself out of her distraction and showed him to the waiting area for his interview. All in all, he was in Stephanie's office longer than Megan expected but when they came out, Stephanie's giggling, flirty manner told her everything she needed to know. Of course David would get the job. Her boss had a major crush on him and quite frankly, her overt efforts at playful banter were embarrassing.

Around David, Stephanie was a different person and not just because she was obviously spending a lot more time in the mornings doing her hair and makeup. She was smiley and peppy, not the sour grump everyone else knew her to be. Then again, when David wasn't around, her more familiar traits returned. Megan tried not to resent David for that. After all, it wasn't his fault that the bitch was just trying to get into his pants. But it wasn't like he didn't recognize it. He worked casually at his own pace and Stephanie never complained to him once about his performance like she had with Jennifer or any of the other ousted assistants. Other perfectly good candidates had lost out on the job and although David was a nice guy, Megan felt yet another pang of distrust for the system.

After two weeks of him on the job, Stephanie decided she couldn't wait any longer and approached David's desk, perching seductively on the edge. Her short pencil skirt edged up her thigh a little too easily, revealing more of her leg than was normally appropriate.

"How's everything going, David?"

"Good, thanks. Anything you need me to do?"

"Just stick with the spreadsheets for now. You're doing a really fantastic job. I'm so lucky we found you."

David shrugged, looking a little shy. His pearly whites couldn't remain hidden and Stephanie bit her lip, thinking just how true that statement was. "Sure, Steph. I'll have them done by midday."

"Oh, just whenever they're ready, I'm not in a hurry," she winked and tossed her hair back from her shoulder, running a hand through her burgundy locks. "Listen, David. Since you're new here and we haven't really had a chance to get to know each other, I was thinking we should grab dinner tomorrow night after work. You know, to make sure we're on the same wavelength. After all, a personal assistant should understand the person, that's what I always say."

His eyes lit up and he flashed another cute grin. "That sounds good. I'd like that."

Stephanie could barely contain her excitement but played it cool, leaning over the desk a little more to reach for a pencil. "Great, I'll book us a table at a place down the street. I go there all the time, you'll love it!" She jotted down the note, just to give herself more time to linger near him.

Megan could see them from her own desk and rolled her eyes at the obvious breach of professionalism taking place in front of her. She watched as Stephanie giggled and twirled her hair, throwing more compliments his way and contemplated the idea of letting Alison know, maybe dropping an anonymous tip somehow. It took about a second for her to decide it wouldn't do a damn thing. Stephanie had everyone she needed wrapped around her finger and she knew it. Megan just hoped David wouldn't be taken in by it all.

When Megan got home that evening, she did what she always did: kicked off her shoes and fed Tabitha, her adorable pet cat. It was only when she was about to go run herself a hot bath that she noticed the answering machine blinking. That didn't happen much these days and when she pressed the Play button, she assumed it would be a sales person or someone equally uninteresting.

"Megan. If you value justice, be at the pier by Gino's diner this evening. Seven thirty."

It was a female voice and that was all it said. No name. No explanation. The message cut out and gave Megan the option to replay it. She did, trying to make out who it could be. Another listen still yielded no better clues.

Megan stood silently in her apartment wondering what to do. She was excited by the prospect of a little mystery suddenly in her life but also nervous. Was this a trick? Some sort of scam to get her to the pier? Maybe out of the apartment so some organized criminal gang could rob it while she was away?...Megan cycled through a series of paranoid thoughts. Tabitha circled around Megan's legs.

"What do YOU think, Tabs? Should I stay or should I go?"

The cat purred. Megan put her shoes back on and locked the front door behind her.

There was a cool breeze coming off the ocean and Megan enjoyed watching the waves as she waited for the mystery caller. At seven thirty exactly, she turned around to see a woman in a raincoat and horn-rimmed glasses. Her face was familiar and as she approached, Stephanie was surprised to recognize her.

"Alison?"

"I was worried you wouldn't come, Megan. Sorry for being cryptic."

"I don't understand. Is everything ok?"

"You hungry?" Alison gestured to the diner.

The women ordered dinner on Alison's tab. While they waited for their food, Megan eyed the director suspiciously, wondering why the hell her boss's boss was paying for her meal. Megan knew Alison was probably a lesbian. The bleached cropped hairstyle and the fact that she always wore pants suits had at least told her she was not particularly feminine. But the meeting didn't seem like Alison had any strange romantic intentions. Besides, what was that she'd said about justice?

"Megan, have you ever heard of Project Seahorse?" Alison asked, stirring her coffee.

"I don't think so. You mean something to do with Chem-Silon?"

"Seahorse was a government experiment. About thirty years ago, the secret service was undertaking research to find conclusive ways to brainwash human beings. Control their behavior through a combination of drugs, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, the works."

"That sounds terrible. Can they do that?"

"It wasn't entirely successful. Those they tested on over the years were prone to mental breakdowns, physical deterioration...and worse. While they refined their methods and were making valuable progress, the project was canned after ten years. I don't know the full reasons other than it was seen as a risk. Funny how the government can choose when it wants to be ethical."

"So...why are you telling me this?"

"When Seahorse was no longer funded, some of those who had been working on it decided that all that time and effort couldn't just go to waste. They continued the research privately, developing not only chemical substances to reorient human self-control but full retraining packages that actually improved more and more on the subjects as the years went on. What those scientists realized was that the research could also be used for good, to undo damage caused by disease, torture, injury or even simple bad parenting. Of course, there was also the understanding by some that a great deal of money could be made in unlocking the user manual to human behavior. In fact, Chem-Silon built itself up on the back of a number of Seahorse products, including our range of anti-psychotics..."

The food came and Alison went quiet, waiting for the waitress to leave them in private again. Megan picked up her fork, prodding her lasagna. "So Chem-Silon owes its capital to secret government experiments about mind control?...Alison, I'm a little confused. I still don't understand what this has to do with...justice?"

Sighing, Alison cut into her food, dissecting her steak into tiny pieces. "I'll cut to the chase. After years of experimenting, those scientists got a breakthrough. Now the process is believed to be next to flawless. No one knows about it other than the key shareholders and a select handful of investors. And you."

"Ok..." Megan replied, still baffled by this bizarre history lesson. "And I'm meant to do what with this information?"

"Nothing. Just to know that I trust you with it and to prove that you can trust me."

"I see. I think."

"I need you to trust me, Megan. Because I have big plans for you and I want to be straight up. Before you go any further up the ladder at the company, I want you to feel that you knew everything about us."

Megan chewed slowly on her dinner, piecing the puzzle together, bit by bit. This was sounding promising, even if a little weird. Maybe it wasn't time to hang up her hat at Chem-Silon after all. Maybe there was hope to step into a different department or even one of the offices in Europe. Anything to get away from Stephanie Coy...

Alison spent the rest of the meal elaborating on what she meant, telling Megan that she had seen how intelligent and hard-working she was but fearing that the young woman was getting fed up with getting no respect and no responsibility. Amid her compliments, Alison continued to jump back to explaining more on the company's history and the strange secrets of Project Seahorse, which Megan felt honored to be let in on. This was real conspiracy theory stuff and just like her chocolate dessert, she ate it up.

Afterwards, they walked to the nearby city park at Alison's request. The older woman had been checking her watch and wanted them to hurry along so they could see something. When asked what, Alison would only say "Before you go to sleep tonight, you'll understand everything."

Intrigued, Megan followed her colleague to a grassy verge, where they looked out over the rolling lawns as the sun dropped lower in the sky. An ice cream salesman was still doing a good trade because of the heat that day. A couple of young men, maybe even boys, were resting from their run by his truck.

That's when Megan saw her. Stephanie Coy came bounding along the path, running at a comfortable pace in a dark green tracksuit with her pet Labrador beside her. Alison leaned against a tree, shielding herself a little more from view.

"Every Thursday around this same time," Alison smiled. "Humans are such creatures of habit, aren't they?"

The women watched as Stephanie stopped in front of the truck, bending over to tie her shoes. The young guys saw her and nudged each other, checking her out. One of them called out "Nice dog" and Stephanie grinned at them, rubbing the mutt's head.

"Isn't he just the cutest?" Stephanie laughed, slyly checking the guys out from the corner of her eye as they came nearer. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

"Want an ice cream?" one of the guys asked.

"Sweet of you to ask! Thanks, dude."

The man eagerly threw money at the ice cream man as his friend made small talk. Stephanie was flirting as always, reveling in her stone-cold fox attractiveness. When the kid gave her the ice cream she took one lick and then, smirking, let her dog take a huge bite out of it. The guys watched in dismay as Stephanie tossed the cone to the ground and laughed. "Nice try, boys, but I'm way out of your league. But thanks for the ice cream! Come on, Moxie!"

She raced off again, leading her slobbering canine sidekick with her. The guys stood dumbfounded and sheepish. "Fuckin' bitch," one of them muttered, flipping the bird to her back, but by then, Stephanie was disappearing down the path.

Alison turned to Megan, who was simply shaking her head with disdain for her manager. "Look familiar?"

"She's the worst, Alison. I see it day in and day out. I know it's not my place to say but I can't stand her."

"Why ever not?"

"Really? She's manipulative. A bully. She must have fired ten perfectly good people since I've known her." Megan cleared her throat, surprising herself about how open she was being. Maybe it was the evening air or the fact that she had been told she was being groomed for promotion, but she felt a little giddy in Alison's company. Free to say what she wanted without any ramifications.

"And if there was real justice in the world. What then? What would happen to her?"

"I don't know. I guess she would be punished in some way. Made to feel the sort of thing she makes everyone else feel all the time. Only a thousand times more and until the end of the world!" Megan laughed at her sudden honesty but Alison just quietly nodded, obviously in agreement.

"Dearie, don't worry. I'm well aware of the trouble Stephanie Coy has caused and far more than even you know. Her transgressions run deep. Not just in this company but throughout her whole life. Some people are beyond forgiveness and even then, they'd never ask for it."

"You're going to have to explain this more to me."

"I will, in time. All I wanted to know is how you felt about her. It seems to me Miss Coy is way overdue for an attitude adjustment."

Megan thought for a long moment, knowing Alison was referring to Seahorse. "Whatever it is, Alison, you have my full backing."

The older woman gave her a wink and they watched the sun dip towards the horizon.

"Come on in. Don't be nervous."

David followed Stephanie out of the elevator and onto their office floor. It was dark inside and strange to see it so empty. He was wearing a button-down and slacks, matching the more casual look she had gone for in a cocktail dress that was probably more revealing than he'd imagined she'd wear. Hardly professional attire, but then, it had already become obvious that this wasn't really a business dinner. Even if Stephanie had said she'd put it all on the company expenses.

The manageress flicked on a couple of low lights to make it easier to see and they immediately found themselves drawn to the windows, where the city was a blanket of orange lights.

"Wow, nice view," David mused.

So he's not the best at conversation and he's a little dim, Stephanie thought to herself. Whatever. I'm not after him for his mind.

"Yeah, it IS a great view! You want a drink?" Stephanie waved the bottle of wine at him, bought from the restaurant before they left. The meal had been good and David had been left in no doubt that his boss had expensive tastes. Already a little buzzed from the first bottle they'd had at dinner, she winked at him and knew she was probably going to get lucky tonight. Finally.

"I'll get us some glasses," David said, flashing her his pearly whites and strolling off to the kitchen to rummage through the closets.

He came back a while later and insisted on doing the honors. They toasted their new 'working relationship' and sat together on a couple of office chairs, still staring out over the midnight landscape.

"So, David...tell me a little more about your life outside of work. What do you do for fun?"

"Gee, I guess I try to keep myself busy. I work out, play baseball, swim, cycle..."

Yowsa, no wonder he has such a great bod! Stephanie took a deep breath, trying to stay calm but also trying to picture what he looked like under his shirt and khakis.

"...I like rowing, I run a lot..."

"Oh! Me too! I go down to the park almost every evening. We should definitely go running together."

"Uh, sure. We can do that."

"I mean I'm not obsessive but I keep in shape, you know. That and dancing. I've been dancing since I was a kid. Pretty intense."

"Oh yeah?" David had noticed her shapely figure. Not that he could avoid it with the way she kept draping herself over his desk.

"Yeah, contemporary dance, you know. To go with my acting." Stephanie said, casually, happy to keep the conversation to her favorite topic: herself.

"Acting?"

"Oh, sure. I'm an actress, really. Working here is just a side thing to keep me going until I get my break."

"Wow, I had no idea. That sounds cool."

"Oh, you know, it's nothing. I do theater here and there. Musicals mainly, because I'm naturally a singer too. I love musicals, don't you?"

"Uh-huh...So you're trying to do it professionally?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I'm between agents right now. But yeah, that's the plan. I just need the right producer to see me perform, that's really all it takes. I haven't decided yet whether I'd just do Broadway for a while or go straight to film. It's a tough decision, especially for someone like me who wants to nurture their craft and be taken seriously as an artist, you know? Plus, because I'm trained in so many areas, I wouldn't want to waste my talent on just anything."

"Uh...I guess." David took a sip of his wine and watched her intently in the moonlight. She smiled, flicked at her hair and curled her legs up on the chair, subtly revealing her thighs. He tried not to look, concentrating on the window. "I sure hope we don't get caught drinking in here. It probably violates company policy or something."

"Oh, don't be silly. I'm in charge, remember? Besides, I drink in here all the time when I need to work late."

"What about Alison?"

"Alison? Fuck her. That stupid old dyke wouldn't dare challenge me." Stephanie pressed her fingers to her lips and giggled. "Oops. Don't tell anyone else I said that. Guess the wine is going to my head a little..."

David tipped his drink back and watched her follow his example. Apparently she wasn't that concerned with pacing herself.

"So, David...what do you think of me as a boss?"

"Oh, well...you're...uh...you're great. I like you a lot. And I'm really happy to be working here."

"What if I said I like you too?" Stephanie rolled her chair nearer to him and he could see her eyes glazing just a tiny bit. "I think a guy like you could really go far in this company. But you'd need to really prove you want to be here. Do you want to be here, David?"

"Yeah, of course. What do I need to do to prove it?"

"I'll help you. Let's just loosen up. Jeez, it's always so uptight around here. Let's just do something crazy...like, I dunno...like let our hair down." She span around in the chair and put her hand on his knee to steady herself. But she left it lingering there and he didn't try to movie it away. Peering up at him with the most seductive flutter of her eyelids she could manage, she read his attraction to her like a book. "Let's just do it."

"Do it?"

"David, I'm a woman and you're a man. Let's stop with the games."

"Ok."

"So how about we fucking live life on the edge. Let's do it. I know! Let's do it on Alison's desk!"

Stephanie stood up and staggered to keep her balance. The alcohol really seemed to be having an effect on her now and she wasn't in the mood to play anymore.

"Steph, are you sure? We could get in trouble."

"Come on! I'm your boss! What I tell you to do..."

Whoa...stood up to fast...

Her words trailed off and her eyes half-closed as though she had suddenly forgotten where she was. She shifted on her feet, halfway to grabbing David by his collars and marching him to the office to have her way with him. But the lights in the office seemed to be getting dimmer and the room was beginning to spin.

"...What I...tell you to do...you do...you...do...ooohh...."

It all happened so quickly. The wine glass fell to the carpet. David stood up and grasped her in his arms as she slumped into unconsciousness. He had to admit to himself that he was somewhat disappointed he had to administer the drug before he'd had the chance to even bone her but those had been the orders. Still, a free meal and a bag of cash was a decent trade.

He dragged her limp frame to down the corridor and back into the elevator, pressing the button for the basement car park, where the van would be waiting.


Chapter 2: Welcome to the House
Tags: FF, lezdom, humiliation, mind control

Madame Prunella Snyde lived in an old Georgian mansion on top of a hill in one of the city's most expensive neighbourhoods. The house sat off the beaten path, meaning most people didn't drive nearby the place unless they were on their way to see her. Aside to the mansion, Prunella owned a nightclub on the outskirts of the city and a number of other establishments. She was wealthy. She was powerful. She was an enigma.

No one knew where she had come from or what her background had been. Certainly, no one knew how she had managed to acquire the estate which used to belong to one of the richest families in the area until the last generation had passed away some years ago. However, no one complained. Prunella was generous to the local community, often writing checks to help local development efforts, church repairs, school field trips and numerous fundraising drives. But she mostly kept to herself. And not without good reason.

Those in her inner circle had an idea how she made her money. In fact all of them were the reasons she continued to enjoy such a lavish lifestyle, paying her a great deal of money for favors and services that only she could provide. Those people were themselves powerful and so, her influence endured.

It was in a corner of the estate on the East Wing that the room was to be found, though it didn't appear on the blue prints. Set underground, the room was practically a bunker, stretching across almost an acre and only accessible through a series of tunnels from the main house. That was where they took their subject.

Three weeks was the timeframe they needed but they worked quickly. They had the space to set up everything required, from the lab equipment to the holding chair. The subject was kept mostly in the chair, strapped in tight and kept topped up with the concoctions that would keep her asleep when they needed and in a hazy state of consciousness at other times. The projector screen in front of the chair flashed continuously with images and words while the audio tape played on loop, Prunella's voice repeating in clipped, authoritative tones. Their subject stared into the screen, not acknowledging anything, just absorbing.

Days passed. The levels of responsiveness seemed to match their initial research and encouraging reports came out every evening. Occasionally, Prunella would check in, wanting to observe their techniques and fascinated by the science behind it all, though she only understood bits and pieces. Throughout, the subject seemed to remain in a permanent state of vegetation.

Then came the day they told her the procedure was finished and that everything had gone to plan. Now it was just a case of finding out if it worked as well as they hoped. And Prunella Snyde was happy to be the person in charge of that test. Either way, the law wouldn't touch her.

The anticipation was over. The room was dismantled. The money transferred. Silence assured.

"Wakey wakey."

Stephanie awoke. The world was blurry at first. Unknown. She didn't know where she was and couldn't remember how she'd got there. The voice wasn't one she recognized. Slowly, the room came into focus as what seemed to be a decadent ballroom ceiling. She tried to move her hands to wipe her eyes but found that she couldn't. Panicking suddenly, she tried to stand and just as before, discovered herself to be immobile.

"Where am I?" she croaked. "Hello? Who's there?"

She looked around and found she was lying on the floor on her side. Her hands were tied behind her and her ankles were bound together. It didn't take much longer for her to begin to recognize this as being a very bad thing.

What the fuck? she thought to herself.

"Good morning." The voice was a woman's. It had an English accent and had a breathy, seductive quality to it that oozed confidence. "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your new life."

"Where the fuck am I?"

Stephanie raised her head towards the mysterious woman standing next to her. She was middle-aged but slim and attractive. Stephanie could make out blonde hair, dark eyes under sharp arching eyebrows and thick blood red lips. She was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jodhpurs and knee-high riding boots, accompanied by a velvet black riding jacket.

What is this? A riding school? What am I doing here?

She tried to move again, pulling hard on her wrists to try to break the silk rope wrapping her hands together.

"Hey! Let me go! What the hell is this?!"

"I am Madame Prunella Snyde..." said the English woman, stepping closer, her hands on her hips and her visage bearing down on her with an amused smirk. "...and you are in my fabulous home. Lucky you to have been granted such a privilege."

Prunella who? Is this a prank?

Stephanie tried to think back to where she was before the world had gone fuzzy. She remembered going to work and then dolling herself up for a night out. With...David!...The restaurant....Going back to the office with him and looking out at the city. But then...what?...

"I don't know what this is but you better tell me right now or I'm calling the cops," Stephanie growled. If she was bothered by the threat, the older woman didn't show it. Stephanie struggled against the bonds again.

"Oh, do stop struggling like that," the woman said. "It's so unseemly."

Stephanie felt herself suddenly relax but didn't know why. Was it something the woman had said? Or was her body just exhausted?

"...I...fine! But you better let me go right fucking now! My dad's a Freemason. He knows powerful people. You messed with the wrong woman!"

"And do stop yelling," the woman replied. "Let's have a civil conversation, shall we?"

Hell no! I'm gonna scream the roof down! Stephanie decided.

Only she couldn't. She opened her mouth and tried but it was as though something in her had just been switched off.

What the hell? What's going on?!

"Excellent," Snyde said. "It worked like a charm! I'm so very pleased." The woman crouched down next to Stephanie and the young woman could see that 'Madame Prunella Snyde' had probably once been a deeply beautiful woman and yet was still holding onto her looks thanks to collagen injections and a possible face lift. Her age was hard to guess. Forty?...Fifty?...Her botoxed lips smiled from ear to ear. "I suppose I should tell you what the rules are. You are now my slave. You will obey my every order, no matter what. And you will only refer to me as Miss, Madame, My Queen or Mistress...Is that understood?"

Like hell it is, lady! Go fuck yourse...

"Yes, Madame."

Stephanie blinked. Had she really just said that? She wanted to struggle again but her body wasn't responding to anything she wanted to do.

Have I been drugged? Is this a dream? That must be it. This must be a really lucid bad dream and I'm going to wake up any second now...

"Wonderful!" Prunella Snyde said, wringing her long nail varnished fingers. "Now for the final test."

She reached for the bonds behind Stephanie and untied them carefully. The girl didn't struggle, remaining still and quiet as before. Once released, the hands remained still and Snyde nodded to herself, impressed by the lack of reaction.

Hit her! Stephanie yelled in her mind. Smack this bitch hard and get the hell out of here!

But again, she could do nothing. Weirdly, her arms stayed down and she felt her legs being untied too. In the same way, they seemed paralyzed. The urge to run was overwhelming but for reasons unknown to her, she was helpless to act, as if she was just watching a video image of herself.

"I don't understand, Miss," Stephanie said, her voice panicked. "How are you doing this?"

"It would be too complex for me to explain and frankly, you don't need to know. Now stand up and let me take a look at you."

Stephanie felt her limbs come to life and for a moment she thought she was free. But again, she didn't attack. She didn't run. She stood up slowly and just remained there, peering about the large luxurious room. She felt dizzy. And confused. And scared. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The mysterious woman stared back at her, looking her up and down. Stephanie felt so vulnerable.

This isn't real! This is just a bad dream! This isn't real!

"I said I wanted to take a good look at you," said Snyde, "and those clothes really aren't appropriate for you anymore."

Stephanie looked down at herself and found she was wearing the same cocktail dress she had worn that night with David. Where was he? What had happened that night?

"Remove the dress," Snyde said matter-of-factly.

What?!

She felt her hands reach back behind her and unzip the garment.

NO! NO! NO! What are you doing?!

Then, unhooking the straps from her shoulders, she let the dress drop to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but the carefully selected underwear she had chosen that evening.

Oh fuck! Why can't I stop myself?!

Snyde stood back, admiring Stephanie's body. The sexy lingerie suited her and accentuated her figure. Her breasts were on the small side but were pressed upward by the lace black bra. Her waist was slim and her hips curved out invitingly. Her skin was just as white and smooth as she had hoped. Delicious prey, Snyde thought to herself. The girl tried to cover herself with her hands, pressing an arm against her chest and an awkward hand between her legs.

"No use in modesty anymore, slut. Keep your hands behind you."

Despite herself, Stephanie obeyed. She never usually let anyone see her body outside of the bedroom and she couldn't believe her lack of will power allowing such a personal infringement. Her heart beat faster, wondering how far this embarrassment would go.

Abruptly, Madame Snyde turned to the door and yelled out. "Nina! I need you here!" In seconds, one of the doors swung open and another woman entered. The first thing Stephanie thought when she saw the twenty-something year old was that she was beautiful. Almost too beautiful. With her tanned skin and striking features, she possessed Kardashian-like looks that could have made her a model. Her dark brown hair was immaculately groomed, falling in waves around her neck and shoulders. Her dark chocolate eyes glinted under the light of a chandelier as she strode towards them on a pair of long athletic legs. The second thing Stephanie thought was that, like her, the woman was dressed only in underwear and a pair of stiletto shoes. The expensive looking designer lingerie barely covered her large perfectly round breasts but revealed her hard flat abs and almost everything else. As she neared them, Stephanie could see her curvy backside, clad in just a thong. She found it hard to take her eyes off her, but immediately began to feel uneasy.

I don't like where this is going...

The raven-haired beauty stopped next to Snyde, put her hands behind her back, set her feet at shoulder-width apart and raised her head up, simply saying "Yes, my queen," in a smooth, well practiced manner. In fact, unlike Stephanie, Nina's compliance was one of will. She wanted to be here. It was obvious.

Once a fresh-faced lawyer working in San Diego, Nina had always been a woman in control. Hard-working and from proud Greek-Italian stock, she had the world at her feet by the time she was twenty four. But something had been missing from her life. A deep void that was always unfilled. She was unexcited by the men she dated or the parties she attended or even the luxurious things she bought every week, from the latest gadgets to the sportiest cars. And in her soul, she knew she needed something else.

Whatever it was, Nina had begun to find solace in things she found on the internet, being able to live a different life to the one in her respected and stifled community of snobs and bores. She stumbled upon porn videos and realized she could get off in seconds by looking at things that involved dominance and submission. The thought of giving herself over to someone was like an awakening, a second birth. She desperately wanted to indulge in this world for real but knew there was no way she could do so without jeopardizing her up-market lifestyle.

Soon, it became an obsession and it was all she could think about. Her work began to suffer and her nights were spent fantasizing in front of her laptop. She found herself signing up to live cam sites where she could anonymously interact with other people who had their own fantasies about control. That was when she found the website of Madame Prunella Snyde and the idea of money dominance. It was one thing to be ordered to do something but quite another to have that person be a woman. Nina wasn't a lesbian and had never entertained those kind of thoughts but the sheer kinkiness of it lit a fire inside her. With trepidation, she input her credit card details.

For months, Prunella Snyde appeared on Nina's screen, communicating with her one-to-one and helping her to embrace her fantasies. Nina began to gift money to the woman whenever she asked for it. And Nina had lots of money to give. She had become a "cash cow" to an older woman and the degrading nature of the exchange gave her many nights of furious masturbatory sessions. It was an entrance into a brand new world.

Snyde had been intrigued. Not many women signed up for her online services and soon she managed to order Nina to take the next step, having her email pictures and information about herself. Every time Nina pushed the envelope a little more, blending the real world with her secret life, she felt elated and utterly horny. It wasn't long before she was sending explicit images to her and having Snyde text her demands for money during the day. Sometimes, she would text her with orders to perform erotic acts, like masturbate in her office or dress provocatively. Nina loved it. And still, she wanted more.

Snyde gave her more. She told the young woman that if she wanted it, plans could be made to accommodate her into her life more deeply than ever. Nina wouldn't have to follow the career she no longer wanted. She wouldn't have to act as if she was interested in dull people or drab events. She wouldn't have to settle down and marry and have kids and pretend to be happy. Madame Prunella Snyde threw Nina a lifeline to be her personal house slave if she was willing to give up everything else.

One year after their first video exchange, Nina sold her home and almost all of her possessions in the most liberating day of her life. She cashed in, wired the money to one of Snyde's protected accounts and arrived at the house on the hill without even so much as a suitcase. All she had was a pledge. A pledge to serve her mistress. And Snyde too agreed to provide everything she needed. Food, shelter, warmth, love...and 24-7 dominance. Kneeling naked on the floor on her first day, Nina had cried tears of joy. The void was filled.

"This is Stephanie, my new house slave," Snyde said to Nina.

House slave?! You can't be serious!

Stephanie's heart stopped. She wanted to protest but Nina simply looked over her half-naked form with mild curiosity and perhaps a hint of resentment.

"While she's here, she'll be taking over some of the household duties. Is that clear?"

Nina nodded. "Yes, mistress, of course."

"Good. I want you two to get along, so it's probably about time you got used to each other. Go to her and introduce yourself."

The swarthy bombshell knew what that meant and strutted towards Stephanie with enthusiasm. Then, she pressed her hands on Stephanie's waist and leaned in, kissing her on the lips. Stephanie began to recoil.

"No, kiss her back," came the order.

Unwilling but unable to stop herself, Stephanie immediately put her own hands on Nina's toned body and closed her eyes, her mouth pressing against Nina's lips. The kiss was wet. Forceful.

YYYUUUUCK! WHY CAN'T I STOP THIS?

After Nina pulled away, Stephanie shivered. Snyde stroked her chin, smiling softly.

WHAT AM I DOING?! This can't be real...

"Stephanie, have you ever kissed a woman before?"

"No, miss."

"Well I think you'll do just fine from now on. Nina...help her lie down."

Nina took Stephanie by the hands and returned her to the rug, resting her on her back and bearing down on her.

"This is gross," Stephanie said quietly. "Please. I'm not a fucking dyke. Please get off me."

"No complaining anymore, Stephanie. You're to do what I tell you without objection. Nina, why don't you turn around the other way..."

Nina's eyes flashed and with cat-like grace she turned, swinging one leg over Stephanie's head until she was straddling her in the sixty-nine position. Her bulbous ass was only inches from the redhead's face, which wore an expression of horror at the fact that she was somehow being made to engage in a tryst with another woman.

"If you're to serve me properly, I'm afraid you simply must learn how to eat pussy. Now stop teasing each other like a couple of flowering teenagers and start licking each other out."

PLEASE, NO!

Stephanie felt Nina's breath between her legs and then the sudden wet warmth of her tongue snaking out and pressing against the thin fabric of her panties. She raised her own head and felt herself reach out with her tongue and do the same to the olive skin around the woman's under carriage. Simultaneously, both women pulled their partner' underwear to the side and began to explore each other's private areas with their mouths. Stephanie's mind recoiled but her body betrayed her, forcing her face into the musky depths of Nina's snatch.

Oh my god! I can't believe I'm doing this! This isn't a bad dream! I'm actually fucking doing this!

Stephanie's first taste of a woman was curious. Metallic. Like olive oil and iron.

Snyde chuckled as she watched the women submit to her commands, one through the overwhelming need to please and degrade herself, the other through a permeating mind-washing inability to do anything but. The gorgeous girls sucked and licked on the floor like two starving lionesses. The Madame reached down to her own crotch, feeling herself excited by the spectacle and the thought of what this new slave meant to her grand scheme. She watched for several minutes, fingering herself, working her way to an excitement that made her breathing heavy.

Stephanie was breathing heavily too. Shocking her own sensibilities, she was working her tongue inside Nina like someone with experience. As their Sapphic routine went on, the humiliation of her actions seemed to stoke a deep arousal in her. The tingling sensation spread from her loins through her nerve endings and the tips of her fingers and toes. It was as if the more she thought about what she was doing, the more turned on she was getting and she couldn't understand why.

Eventually, Snyde commanded them to stop and ordered Nina off. Stephanie gasped for breath, frowning with pained confusion at what she had just done.

"On your knees, Stephanie, in front of me," Snyde snapped and as Stephanie crawled to the position, she added, "This is a position you'll soon get used to. My slaves kneel and bow before me if I so much as point to the floor."

Quaking with fear, Stephanie stared up at the woman, anxious about what was next. Nina too knelt on the floor, watching from a few feet away as the Madame tugged her jodhpurs down and revealed her own naked and aroused cunt lips which featured a slightly sagging labia but an otherwise well manicured strip of dark bleached blonde hair. Stephanie's face was just inches away from it and she could feel the heat coming off her.

Fuck! This is torture!

"Now that you've had some practice, I want you to worship the woman who owns you. Kiss and lick me to orgasm, slave. NOW!"

Stephanie lurched forwards, puckering her lips and planting a kiss on the older woman's box, feeling the hair tickle her nose as she went to work. Snyde grabbed the back of her head with one hand and leaned back a little, giving the once proud woman more room to debase herself at her feet.

Prunella Snyde moaned as she felt the tongue flick her clit and run up and down the length of her thick pussy lips. She then snapped her fingers at Nina, requesting something that Stephanie couldn't hear with the woman's thighs pressed so tightly against her head. Not that it took her long to discover.

Snyde took the cat o' nine tails from her veteran house slave and lengthened out the knotted leather whips with the other hand.

"To serve me is to also know punishment. For your protests earlier, you're to feel my whip."

Stephanie's eyes grew wide as she took this information in and with barely seconds to prepare herself, felt the sudden sting of the leather against her back. She flinched and moaned at the strike but didn't stop licking.

"Ugh! I hate having to teach the most simple of things. Thank me each time I whip you, you fucking slut!"

Stephanie stopped and leaned her head back to look Snyde in the eye, her own crystal blue pools peering up with silent pleas of mercy and her cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

"Thank you, my queen."

"Did I tell you to stop licking?!"

"No, madame," Stephanie mumbled, quickly moving her head back between the woman's legs.

WHACK!

"OW! Thank you, my queen!" Stephanie called out, her words muffled as her face remained stuffed in the confines of Snyde's body.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Each time, Stephanie thanked the woman for whipping her. The occasional bite of the knots on her back and ass made her buck each time and the pain, like the humiliation, sent strange signals of pleasure through her body like electric currents. Each time, it spurred her to keep licking and each time she felt her own pussy tingle with an alien need to be touched and rubbed and satisfied.

What's happening to me?...

Soon, Snyde was rocking her hips with abandon, moaning loudly and forcing Stephanie's face further into her.

"Yes! YES! YES! YES! THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! RIGHT THERE! OH FUUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!"

Snyde hit her peak and throwing her head back, began to cum against Stephanie's face as she rolled her pussy hard onto her mouth, trembling from her boots to the tips of her hair as the pleasure coursed through her. The young woman could taste the flow of juices seep over her tongue and penetrate her nostrils. She felt disgusted by the orgasm, refusing to believe she had just brought a woman off by orally servicing her against her will.

The domme relaxed, taking a step back and hoisting up her pants.

"You're good at that already," she said. "I can tell you're going to fit right in. Nina, bring the paperwork."

Nina strode off again and returned with several sheets of paper and a clipboard. Stephanie eyed them with worry.

"Do you know why you're here?" Snyde asked.

"No, miss," replied Stephanie, eyes tearing up.

"Oh but I think you do. Deep down, I think you always knew this was waiting for you in some way." Snyde placed the papers on the floor in front of the shivering girl. "So we're going to start by putting right some of the things you've done wrong. And although it will take a very long time to get there, we're going to take it one step at a time. To begin, this is the deed to your apartment and a number of other contracts and forms that will release everything you own to me. Everything, including access to your financial accounts."

Stephanie stared down at them. No way would I sign these!

"I wouldn't worry. Your home has already been cleared out and I have all of your stupid things under lock and key. So really, this is just a formality." A pen clattered onto the floor next to the paperwork. "Sign them."

Before she knew it, the pen was in her hands and as she pressed it to the first dotted line, Stephanie began to sob.

"No crying! Not anymore, bitch, not in this house."

The tears stopped and the pen danced over the paper, one by one, legally entitling this stranger to everything in her life. From the edge of the rug, Nina watched, smiling to herself as she remembered her own day of liberation. When she was finished, Stephanie placed the pen down and knelt back on her heels.

"Tell me what you are," sneered the Madame.

"I'm...I'm your slave, mistress."

"That's right. You're my lowly, pathetic, whore slave and you live to please me. Isn't that right?"

Stephanie's mind swirled and she felt for a moment like she was about to faint.

"Yes, miss...I'm your lowly pathetic whore slave. I live to please you."

"Very good! Then let's get moving."

Snyde reached down to the girl's head and grabbed a fistful of the dark red hair, tugging it harshly.

"We have much to do today. Now crawl!"

The Madame yanked her forward, forcing Stephanie to drop to her hands, and then strolled towards the door. The will to cry hadn't left her but the ability to weep over her predicament was locked inside, much like her own body now in bondage at the whim of a terrifying woman. As Prunella Snyde strutted out of the large lavish room, Stephanie Coy, once so superior and arrogant, scuttled behind her on all fours like a pet animal, stripped to her underwear and on her way to an inevitable world of total enslavement.


Chapter 3: Maid to Serve
Tags: FF, lezdom, humiliation, mind control, exhibitionism, masturbation

"I just love what you've done with the place, Pru," Alison chirruped, admiring the lavish furnishings and settling onto a chaise longue in Prunella Snyde's study. "So classic and yet still fresh and modern."

Her old friend and confidante sat opposite her in an antique armchair, her long legs crossed gracefully. Alison and Prunella had known each other for years ever since Alison had first come to the nightclub.

"How kind of you to say," said the lady of the manor, "but I hope you haven't come here to admire my home."

Alison chuckled. "Of course not. I'm very intrigued by the reports. Is it true? Did it work as we'd hoped?"

Snyde rested back in the chair, cool as ever. "I could tell you it had...but then what good would that do? Why don't I just show you instead?"

Alison's hairs rose on the back of her neck. After decades of tireless top secret research, she was about to find out if her passion project had been worth it all. Her friend had been chosen to help because of her wealth and power, helping to fund the program when government backing dried up. Of course she had her own incentives but Alison was more than happy to let her enjoy the benefits of the results if they had any. Although nervous, the way Prunella looked decidedly composed was a positive indication...

"Slave! Tea, now!" the English woman barked at the door.

Alison expected Nina to arrive, that dazzling brunette Pru kept around the house to fulfill her needs. The Chem-Silon CEO had always been a little envious that her friend had convinced such a beautiful young woman as her personal slave, not that she wanted one herself. Far too crazy a thing for her. Besides, in her line of work she was barely ever at home. She heard the sound of heels clip-clopping on the wooden floor towards the room.

Only it wasn't Nina. The face was familiar though...all too familiar. Alison stared in amazement, her jaw hanging open, as her former employee entered the room.

Stephanie was dressed in a French maid outfit, consisting of an extremely short black dress that puffed out at her waist and pushed her breasts up until they were almost tumbling out of the low cut neckline. The hem was decorated with white ruffles and a small white apron. She wore it with a pair of black stilettos, forcing her to totter across the floor on three inch heels that led up to a pair of thigh-high sheer black stockings. The dress left nothing to the imagination and as she came nearer, Alison could see Stephanie's panties, a deliberately revealing pair of see-through white ruffled knickers. The outfit was completed with a lace headband and she shuffled across the room carrying a silver tray with a steaming teapot and two cups.

Alison?! What the hell's she doing here?

The 'maid' spotted her former boss straight away and Alison thought she saw her blush as she approached. Even so, the young woman didn't hesitate. She walked directly up to Prunella, placed her hands behind her back and spoke in a clear voice.

"You called for me, my queen."

Snyde glanced at her guest, who was still agape at the situation. "I present to you a complete success," she beamed. Alison blinked in astonishment but soon composed herself. She remained silent, letting the scene unfold.

The Madame turned to the maid and waved her hand. "Well don't just stand there like a retard! Pour the tea!"

Stephanie flinched and set the tray down on the coffee table, carefully pouring a cup for each of them into the fine bone china. Alison watched her closely, studying her face for any signs of the haughtiness she remembered. She gazed over the woman's figure, noticing her cleavage and bare shoulders and the strong legs extending from beneath the mini-dress.

Is she in on this? thought Stephanie. Was this her idea?

"Here you are, ma'am." The servant handed Alison her cup and saucer first, not making eye contact. Alison wondered if she had even recognized her. Stephanie then handed Prunella her cup and returned to her attentive stance.

"Kneel!" commanded Snyde.

To Alison's astonishment, Stephanie Coy dropped to her knees on the Persian rug and waited patiently with her head held high towards her superior. Snyde raised an eyebrow, asking her friend for her thoughts.

"Well..." Alison began, her voice a little dry. She took a long gulp of the tea. "...Is she completely compliant?"

"One hundred per cent! She reacts to my voice just as we designed and while I see that she is still mentally individual and resistant, it seems to have no effect on preventing her from following my orders. I've yet to find something she won't do. I could probably tell her to go play hopscotch on the interstate and she'd be bouncing around out there like a drooling moron. Stephanie, cigarette!"

To prove her point, Stephanie reached into her apron pocket and produced a Virginia Slim and a lighter. She rose quickly, helping her mistress apply the cigarette to an old-fashioned holder and then carefully lighting the end. Snyde inhaled deeply then blew the first puff of smoke directly into Stephanie's face before ordering her back to her knees. Alison stroked her chin, still in awe.

"Fascinating...And she has no problems with the, uh...physical aspects of her role?"

"Darling, you mean the sex games?" Alison grinned. "She's practically in the sisterhood now!"

"And...does she remember me?"

"Oh, of course! Her memory is mostly intact except for some of that day she arrived here. I've no idea what dosage was in the drink..."

The drink...? Stephanie tried to recall her last day as a free woman. That's right! I had a drink. A glass of...wine?

"...Believe me, you'd be amazed at the memories she's kept in that pretty little head of hers."

"Really? You mean if you ask her to tell you something she'll just tell you the truth?" Alison continued, leaning forward.

"Don't believe me?" Snyde purred, extending her cigarette. Stephanie automatically tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide as her mistress dabbed the cigarette over her, sending a drop of cinders onto her tongue. Alison watched in wonder as the girl gulped the ash down, grimacing slightly at the taste before being ordered to get up and stand in front of them where they could get a good look at her. "Slut, tell us...how many men have you slept with?"

Stephanie glanced down momentarily, then locked eyes on her owner. "Eight, miss."

"Hmm...that could be a lie," Alison mused.

"I admit, I was skeptical at first too. Such a low number for a pretty little tart like her. And yet...she seems to be telling the truth. For now, at least...I think I may be able to help add to that tally." The girl fidgeted ever so slightly, clearly uncomfortable at the suggestion.

"Before you came here..." Alison said abruptly, "...Had you ever slept with a woman?"

Stephanie turned to her old manager, knowing the manners expected of her now that a guest was in the house, knowing she was to treat her with the same obedience. "Not until I came here, Miss Fayre."

The older women looked at each other and shrugged.

"You see?" said Snyde, "An uptight little wench until I got my claws into her. This is fun! Keep going!"

Alison intended to. "What's your favorite part of your body?"

"My face, ma'am."

"Still so vain..." Snyde observed, taking another drag.

"And your least favorite part?"

Don't tell them!

"My breasts."

This got their attention. A slow smile spread across Prunella's face.

"Why don't you like your breasts?" Alison pressed.

"They're...too small."

The women laughed, turning their attention to the soft mounds rising and falling beneath the silky garment.

"True," the lady of the manor said. "They could be bigger. Maybe one day we'll see to that...Ooh! Let me have a go!...Hmm...What's something about yourself that you would never want to admit to anyone?" The question was vague but after a moment to think the girl lifted the lid.

"I...I'm kind of racist, miss."

No, I'm not. Well..only a little...Isn't everyone?

"You are?! In what way?"

"Well, I really just don't like black people. I feel like they're below me." The admission made Stephanie cringe as she came out with it.

"Tut tut! How horribly old world of you, Miss Coy," Snyde said, shaking her head. Alison was past the point of astonishment and was now eager to play.

"Tell us..." the CEO began, a twinkle of mischief behind her gold-rimmed spectacles, "...Before you came to this house, what was your most embarrassing moment?"

Don't tell them! Don't you dare! But as soon as the memory popped into her head, her voice began to articulate it.

"Once when I was sixteen, my parents went out for a drive while I stayed home on my own. When they left, I lay down on the living room couch and put my headphones on..." The women were leaning forward, ears pricked and eyes dancing with anticipation. "...And then I started to feel really turned on. Only they'd forgotten something and came back...but because of the music, I didn't hear the car pull up. So when they came back in...they walked in on me masturbating."

The women burst out laughing. Stephanie's face had gone bright red at the horrifying teenage memory. The memory of opening her eyes and seeing her shocked father boiling with rage in the middle of her most intimate moment. She'd been grounded for a month but the embarrassment of it all had been punishment enough. Now she was reliving that same feeling.

"That is priceless!" Snyde clapped with childish excitement. "What else can we ask?"

"I have one," Alison replied, suddenly serious. "When you worked at Chem-Silon, did you ever steal from the business?"

Oh fuck. She knows.

"Yes, ma'am."

"How? And how much?"

"I was skimming money off the books, writing false invoices. I don't know the exact amount...Tens of thousands over the years."

Alison took her glasses off, rubbing the lenses. Of course she had known something was wrong but she had never completely known where the inconsistencies were coming from. She scolded herself for being so easily fooled and for allowing a woman like Stephanie Coy to ever take advantage of her livelihood. Prunella could tell that this had hit a nerve and decided to switch it up.

"Alison, you knew this bitch was trouble. Let's teach her a lesson." The Madame opened a table drawer by her side and pulled out a thin flesh colored vibrator. It was a striking object, about seven inches in length and hard plastic. Stephanie felt a chill run down her spine. "Take this, slut."

She couldn't refuse. Stephanie grasped the toy and returned to her spot on the hardwood floor.

"Well don't act like you don't know what to do with it. Turn it on and start rubbing it over your panties. Go on! Get on your knees and give us a show."

Alison snapped her specs back on, already cheerier, and watched as Stephanie twisted the base of the object so that it began to hum. The young woman slid to the floor, spreading her knees and raising the hem of her skirt so they could watch as she pressed the buzzing device over the front of her ruffled knickers. She moved the plastic phallus up and down, gliding it over her clit and against her lips. Already, she seemed to be aroused, moaning softly at the feel of its small yet intense power.

They watched her prod and stroke her pussy through the fabric as they drank their tea and shared gossip, ignoring Stephanie for minutes at a time while they chatted like a normal pair of middle-aged women just catching up on old times. Throughout, the stunning red-haired maid performed in front of them for their pleasure. And for hers. She hated herself at what she was doing but the physical hammer blows of passion were demolishing all her cares.

Soon, Stephanie was whimpering loudly and bucking forcefully against the toy. Her cunt was dripping wet and the thin mesh material of her panties had become translucent, exposing her puffed up pussy lips.

"P-please may I cum, mistress," Stephanie breathed, remembering her training well.

Snyde dabbed out her cigarette and frowned at the girl. "Of course not! Now stop what you're doing and stand to attention!"

With a mix of both reluctance and relief, Stephanie stopped playing with herself and stood, knees trembling.

"Lift your skirt."

Stephanie obeyed, raising the hem again for the women to see her dampness. Her panties were soaked through.

"How disgusting! Look at you! Getting wet and dirty in front of our guest! Have you no manners? You'll have to make it up to Miss Fayre by showing her one of your tricks."

Snyde instructed Stephanie to lower the sodden lingerie, which she did, her face reddening again as she tugged the panties down to her ankles. A crooked finger then beckoned Stephanie to approach her mistress again and the girl shuffled forward, trying not to trip over on her undergarments.

"Cigarette, now."

Stephanie hurriedly produced another from her apron and set the end alight. This time, Snyde dispensed with the holder and clasped it between her fingers.

"Now," Snyde continued, "turn around and grab your ankles so we can get a good look at that cute little bottom."

The slavegirl lowered her eyes in shame and proceeded with the instruction, her skirt rising as she bent over, flashing the women her well-rounded milky derriere. Alison admired the sight, admitting to herself that without the attitude, Stephanie Coy was in fact a very attractive woman, particularly with her nude rear end presented like a delicious main course at a free banquet. She watched as Snyde slapped her hand against the woman's right buttock, causing both Stephanie and Alison to wince.

"Thank you, miss," Stephanie breathed. "May I please have another?"

She was rewarded with another hard smack, this time on her left cheek. Her ass jiggled with the blow as Snyde admonished her for being "such a naughty girl."

"Thank you, miss. May I please have another?"

The open handed spankings continued, switching from cheek to cheek each time until the maid's white globes had turned a deep shade of pink. Finally, the Madame took one quick puff of the cigarette and then pressed the filter against Stephanie's exposed asshole.

"Open up and accept it," the Madame commanded, pushing gently on the stick as the young woman relaxed her muscles, eventually allowing the filter to sink inside her. "That's it. Just like we practiced. Don't let it fall out..."

The cigarette stood on end, protruding comically from Stephanie's back passage. Snyde rubbed her hands together in gleeful approval.

"Miss Fayre knows all too well how long you've had people blowing smoke up your arse. Show her how you've learnt to do it for yourself."

Confused, Alison watched as Stephanie's face strained as if in deep concentration. After a few long seconds, the cigarette twitched once...then twice...and then with a final tensing of her muscles, the woman managed to squeeze enough to make a momentary orange glow and a small wisp of smoke rise up.

Alison began to laugh like she hadn't in years, applauding the show and wanting to see more.

"Anything for my dear friend," Snyde giggled. "Whore, I want you to go back to your spot over there and resume playing with your plastic cock. But stay nice and bent over and do NOT let that cigarette drop. Only when the cigarette burns out are you allowed to orgasm."

Stephanie took in the instructions and very carefully waddled a few paces forward to the middle of the room, her ass pointing lewdly at the ceiling as she went. The hum of the dildo returned and she reached between her legs to tickle her clit.

Again, the women watched as the young servant humiliated herself in front of them, plunging the toy inside her cunt and moaning with every thrust.

"She's quite flexible," observed Alison.

"Oh, yes. Years of dance lessons has primed her body for much of what I need her to do. Quite the little performer was Miss Coy. Acting too."

"Really?"

"Well, she fancied herself as something of an undiscovered talent apparently. A sad little dream that will never be and probably never would have been. Still, in a way, she's got her wish. I can get her to perform on center stage every day! In fact, as of next week, she'll be starting work at the club. It just so happens I had an opening that needed to be filled and, well, how often do you get the chance to hire a dancer who'll work for free?"

Loud moans were now accompanying the chatter of the women as Stephanie's pussy yearned for release. She could feel waves of ecstasy quaking through her, stemming directly from her loins and threatening to unbalance the cigarette, which by this time was dropping long pieces of ash onto the hardwood floor.

"Listen, Alison. I know you've always been a tad green-eyed about Nina. Well, if you want...and because you've been such a wonderful friend and really the only reason this is all possible...what I'm saying is, if you'd like to take this one home with you, I'll give her to you."

Alison went silent, staring at the masturbating beauty only feet away. She was admittedly very turned on by the display and the thought of having her own sex slave was an amazing prospect. But...

"No. Thanks all the same, Pru, but it's just not me. After all, we had a plan and I'm too connected if they ever came looking for her. So, no. You keep her and you do whatever you want to do. I'm just happy that my research has obviously got me the results I wanted."

That was something of an understatement. The young woman's panting sounds of pleasure were becoming a distraction. One week ago, no one who knew Stephanie Coy would ever have believed it was possible to have her in this position, demeaning herself like a cheap prostitute.

Oh...god...this feels so...fucking...

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!"

The thrusts were hard and fast and a drop of wetness fell from Stephanie's snatch. She was so close. Just when she thought she might be about to disappear into a psychosis of sexual energy, the end of the cigarette butt turned to powder and Stephanie yelped as the heat touched her skin. Immediately, her body sprang up and her buttocks clenched, squashing the filter and extinguishing the last of the flame. Then, with a shrill cry, her cunt spasmed, squirting onto the floor and sending shockwaves through her nerve endings. She came loudly. The older women simply sat and watched her lose control.

Breathless, Stephanie turned back around, awaiting further orders. Always craving more.

"You've made a mess of the floor, you silly bitch," sneered the Madame. "Go and get a rag to wipe this up and then bring us more tea. If you miss a spot, you'll be over my knee. Well?! Get moving!"

Stephanie exchanged a short glance with Alison, her familiar blue eyes expressing the deep internal shame and fear that she couldn't verbalize. As she shuffled to the door, her sopping panties still hanging limp from her ankles, she wondered how long this torment would last and what she would have to do to make it stop.

If it ever would.

Things didn't become any clearer to Stephanie in the days that followed her reawakening. Instead, she found herself further conforming to her new life as a servant to Prunella Snyde. And in her service, the days were a never ending series of labor and degradation.

On the first day in her new role, the former branch manager of Chem-Silon was informed that her main duties involved keeping the huge mansion spotless at all times. To initiate her, the Madame threw all of Stephanie's clothes onto a bonfire and burned them in front of her in a symbolic gesture, declaring that she would from that point on be provided with a new wardrobe based on her duties. She was to be at her mistress's beck and call at all times and she was to do all she could to provide the woman with comfort and contentment.

That pleasure began first thing in the morning. Stephanie slept naked on a large bean cushion inside a cage at the foot of Snyde's magnificent four-poster bed. The bedroom was a luxurious and spacious chamber furnished in the same classic Georgian fittings as the rest of the house. At seven thirty, the timed release light on the cage door would flick to green and the electronic buzz would rouse her to her first duty of waking her mistress...not with a quiet whisper in the ear but by climbing under the woman's sheets and orally pleasuring her. Snyde would stir and allow herself to reach her first orgasm of the day before kicking the young woman out of the bed and ordering her to draw a bath.

Once in the bathroom, Snyde would have Stephanie kneel, still naked, in front of the toilet as the Madame sat down and relieved herself. Stephanie was to then clean her mistress of any residue with her tongue, lapping at her lower parts in what was her most crushing ordeal to date.

The older woman would then bathe in the large indoor hot tub, taking her time to cleanse herself of the night by having Stephanie kneel by the side of the tub and scrub her with a sponge, making sure she got at every part and obviously enjoying every minute. Stephanie of course didn't enjoy it at all and felt particularly demeaned at having to shave the Madame's legs and armpits, gently taking a razor to her soapy skin. How she wished it was a bigger blade and that she could somehow recover her senses.

After her bath, Madame Snyde would want breakfast, which would by this time be already on the grill as Nina busied herself in the enormous kitchen, wearing nothing but a chef's apron. Even so, Stephanie still had duties to perform. Snyde had declared that she could not have her new slave getting out of shape, so Stephanie's daily exercise would commence while the mistress ate her eggs and croissants and read the morning newspaper. Still nude, Stephanie would be made to go through a series of exercises there in the kitchen in front of her, an embarrassing routine that included jumping jacks, squats, sit ups and deep stretches. All the while, Snyde sipped her coffee and intermittently instructed the once conceited woman to "jump higher" or to "stretch further".

To complete her routine, Nina would then remove the apron and join Stephanie, presenting the Madame with not one but a pair of gorgeous naked women standing before her. Nina's job was to teach Stephanie how to dance. Not the type of dance moves that she had once learned at her studio classes downtown, but ten very specific moves that were more suited to a strip club. Each day, Nina would teach two or three of these and Stephanie would have to do her very best to copy the moves.

There was punishment set aside for both of them if Stephanie failed to perform the moves properly or forgot how the sequences went. On one occasion, they were made to run around the estate in just a pair of sneakers and on what just happened to be a cold day. On another occasion, Snyde simple pulled her chair out and ordered them one after the other to bend over her knee and submit to a bare-handed spanking.

It was only after her morning exercise that Stephanie was allowed to eat breakfast, on her hands and knees and from a plate set on the floor. Then she was allowed to shower, though even this was no relaxing indulgence as Snyde watched her from outside the glass panel and timed her to make sure she spent no longer than three minutes under the hot spray. Finally, she was to dry herself and apply her makeup, which the Madame preferred to remain natural-looking to "maintain her girlish charm" as she put it. Then the chores would begin.

Unsurprisingly, Stephanie's main attire during her cleaning duties was her French maid outfit, a ridiculous ensemble that she wore begrudgingly. Stephanie had felt deeply uncomfortable when she first wore the outfit but still bewildered by her situation, she went to work as instructed, experiencing her first few days in a puzzled haze.

Her duties varied from dusting and polishing to scrubbing the floors and anything else she was told to. Nina, who had been on maid duties for a long time, remained the Madame's chef, chauffeur and gardener. On most sunny days, she was to be found crouching in the grounds outside the house, wearing only a pair of gloves to protect her hands and pulling weeds or mowing the lawns. Stephanie wondered what had made such a stunningly attractive woman choose a life like this. Was it Stockholm syndrome? Would she, like Nina, somehow learn to love being a slave?

And not just a house-slave either. Because first and foremost, Stephanie was also a sex slave. That had been drilled into her from day one. She was to make her body available at any time the Madame demanded, no matter what task she was already involved in. Often this would come in the evening when, after bathing her mistress for a second time, she would be made to clean herself in the used bath water, shaving her legs and privates and her underarms smooth, then coming to bed, naked and ready.

Snyde took great delight in breaking her in, training her first hand in the skills and techniques of lesbian sex. Stephanie did the hard work, working her tongue around the woman's ageing yet exquisite body, massaging her into a state of extreme arousal. She became used to the smell and taste and feel of the fleshy pink pussy of her mistress and much of her time was spent with her head between the Madame's legs, perfecting the motions and swirls that made the woman cry out in pleasure.

Nothing was off limits when it came to using Stephanie's body for Snyde's pleasure. When she had had enough of receiving oral stimulation or scissoring the young woman into a frenzy, she would bring out the toys. Lubes. Cuffs. Plugs. Vibrators. Ice cubes. She would explore the edges of Stephanie's physical abilities, bending her into various accessible positions. Then she would don one of her many harnesses complete with a menacing strap-on dildo. Given no means to protest, Stephanie could only submit as the plastic phallus explored her once private holes, stretching her out in ways she had never experienced before.

She was no longer her own person. She was a play thing, her mind reduced to constant capitulation. Her conscience cried out silently every day and night, begging for freedom, pleading to return to her normal existence and promising whatever power was out there that she would change her ways. But no one could hear her and her body played the part of someone else.

It won't last long, she told herself. They couldn't possibly get away with this for much longer. Someone will come looking for me. They have to...

Little did she know, this new way of life was only the beginning.


Chapter 4: Becoming a Cuckquean
Tags: MF, FF, lezdom, cuckquean, humiliation

"Slave, get in here now!"

Prunella Snyde stood in her spacious bedroom, wrapped in a plush white bath towel. Stephanie hurried in, leaving the faucets open to fill the hot tub for a few more minutes. She dropped to her knees in front of the woman, smoothing down her maid's skirt and raising her head to attention.

"My queen. How may I serve you?"

"Are you blind? I'm ready to bathe. Is the tub ready?"

"Almost, mistress."

"Well I hope it will be for your sake. I can't run late tonight. I have a date."

A date? Who the fuck would want to date this horrid woman? I hope they know what they're letting themselves in for.

"Yes, miss. You won't be late."

"Good. Because he's quite a catch and I'm looking forward to dinner."

He? Stephanie thought. Until now she'd thought she was a lesbian. Maybe the old witch just doesn't care what she can get. Maybe she's just a fucking pervert...

"Take this," Snyde barked, pulling the towel away and dropping it over Stephanie's head. The slavegirl folded it quickly and followed her mistress into the luxurious bathroom, shutting off the water and testing it for temperature. It was very warm but not scalding and frothy mountains of white bubbles floated over the surface. Just as she liked it.

As Snyde bathed and Stephanie helped to shave her long slim legs and scrub her shoulders, the domme talked more about her excitement at the night ahead of her.

"He's incredibly handsome and charming. I honestly can't wait to sink my nails into him. Don't forget to make sure the place is tidy while I'm out being wined and dined."

Wait a minute...she's leaving me here? For real?...This could be it! This could be my chance to escape!

Snyde stepped out of the hot tub, her fair golden skin glistening with sweet smelling oils. Stephanie draped the towel around her, gently drying her body and contemplating her break for freedom. Could she do it? Would being left alone give her the time she would need to figure out a way to flee?

The Madame strolled back into the bedroom and sat naked on the bench in front of her dresser, snapping open her makeup purse. "I'm wearing the red Louboutins tonight. Make sure they're spotless."

The sub retrieved the glamorous peep toed leather pumps and laid them on the floor with a fresh cloth. Then she knelt, polishing the woman's shoes, while the lady of the manor applied her eyeliner, still prattling on about her date. "Of course, he's a little younger than I am but that's how I like them," she chuckled to herself. "I bet he can fuck like a stallion."

Soon, the older woman was ready to dress and she had Stephanie sort through her wardrobe, fetching different outfits that could match her shoes. The redhead wanted to scream. From managing an important branch of an international conglomerate to dressing a woman like a common servant. Somehow it never got easier.

Snyde also took great care to pick out her underwear, needlessly reminding Stephanie that she expected her date to see her in it and wanting to look as seductive as possible. She chose a sophisticated black lace combination with sheer stockings, new items she'd picked up in a boutique earlier that week. Stephanie helped her into them, peeling the stockings carefully up her legs and adjusting her bra straps.

Over these she slipped on a striking red cocktail dress. As her slavegirl zipped her up, she admired herself in the full length mirror. Even Stephanie had to admit she looked stunning, at least ten years younger and going in and out in all the right places.

As Snyde snapped on a pair of silver earrings and Stephanie knelt before her, fitting her into the designer shoes, the Madame looked down sternly. "Now here's what you're to do. I want this place tidy, understand? While I'm gone, make sure everything is neat for when I bring my date home. I want candles lit and champagne on ice ready in this room as soon as you hear the car arrive."

"Yes, miss."

Look on the bright side. If this chump is spending the night, at least I won't have to sleep with her.

"Oh and just so you know, today happens to be your birthday..."

What? Really? How long have I been here? Stephanie tried to calculate the time but the Madame's words demanded her attention.

"...And as it's your birthday, it's only right that you get a treat isn't it?"

"Uhh...yes, my queen?" she replied, wary of what was coming.

"Yes! Of course it is! So if you finish all of your duties you can rest for a while. Feel free to relax in the study and read your book. But ONLY if you've tidied every room in the house."

Stephanie sighed, wondering if that was even possible in the few hours she would have to complete the task. Still, it was a small mercy and even if she could complain, she wouldn't have. Even if the study wasn't the most comfortable room in the house. And even though her assigned reading was The Story of O, deliberately chosen to remind her of her place.

"Oh, how could I forget! I also got you a little gift! Ex-citing!" Snyde clapped her hands enthusiastically and grabbed the paper bag from her side table. "Ready to see what it is?...Ta-daaa!" Stephanie's heart sank as she pulled out the present. It was a dog collar. Pink leather with small silver studs and a metal O-ring on one side. "Isn't it just darling?...Well?!"

"Yes, miss. Thank you, miss. It's wonderful."

Snyde dropped the collar onto the floor in front of her and giggled to herself. "One more thing. When I return, I want you to be waiting here in this room, kneeling down over in that corner with your face to the wall. And you're not to be wearing anything except your lovely gift. Is that clear?"

The girl's heart sank even lower. She wasn't going to be allowed off this night either and dread filled her as she wondered what the woman had planned. She looked sadly down at the strip of leather. "Yes, my queen."

"Good. Now I must be leaving. NINA! CAR!"

Nina was already at the foot of the grand staircase, waiting to drive her beloved mistress to her night on the town in her personal Bentley. The buxom slave was dressed for the part, wearing a tailored grey chauffeur's outfit, complete with a more feminine pencil skirt and a peaked cap. She eagerly followed the Madame out to the garage as Stephanie watched them leave. Escape was impossible. She'd been given orders and she had to complete them. The need to clean the mansion pulled at her like an overpowering magnetic force.

Oh well. At least I have a few hours of peace to do it in. And if I hurry, some light reading may even be...fun?

Better to lie to herself, she decided, than to remind herself she had no choice in the matter. With a feather duster in hand, she set about fulfilling her orders, wondering if it really was her birthday already.

It was close to midnight by the time she heard tires coming up the long gravel pathway. The car stopped at the front of the house, doors closed and footsteps approached the front door.

She waited and listened as they entered, giggling and whispering to each other, though their words were drowned by the distance and the walls between them. They lingered for a while in the reception area, her Loubutins clacking against the hardwood floor. Then their sounds became louder. They were climbing the stairs. He was ready to spend the night. Stephanie wondered whether Snyde would bring him to a different room, one of the other luscious boudoirs. Maybe she intended to make her wait all night...

But the door clicked open and the candle flames dotted around the room waved gently as it closed. Stephanie's hair rose on her neck. She couldn't see her mistress but she could hear her come in. And she could hear her date walking in with her.

"Make yourself at home," came the familiar husky feminine English voice.

"Thanks, I'll do that. Nice place." A man's voice. Deep and cheerful. Stephanie thought it sounded familiar but remained frozen, facing the wall. "Hey is..."

He stopped, abruptly. He'd finally noticed her. Stephanie stayed still, breathing heavily, hoping the stranger might bolt for the door or better yet, call the police. But the seconds passed and he did nothing. She could feel his eyes staring into her naked back. She could feel them wandering down, drinking in the sight of her exposed backside.

Snyde's heels went to the sofa. "What, you didn't believe me when I said I could make her do that? It wasn't a joke. You deserve to share in this."

"You weren't kidding, were you?" the man said in awe. Stephanie could swear she'd heard that voice before. But where?...

"Sit down, sweetheart. Get comfortable." The sofa rustled and the man let out a deep sigh. "Slave, crawl over here."

Stephanie took a deep breath and finally turned, crawling towards the couple on the couch. As she did, she looked up and saw Madame Snyde's handsome date.

DAVID! Oh my god! No! NO!

She inched closer, one hand in front of the other, slinking across the carpet. Her eyes dropped and she wished more than anything that it was a trick of the light and that it wasn't him. It couldn't be. He couldn't see her like this. Except the closer she got, the more it became clear.

David smiled, his dark hair pushed back from his forehead and his strong features just as she remembered them. He watched her crawl nearer and Snyde placed a hand on his knee.

How could he do this? Is he being controlled too? This can't be right!

As Stephanie tried to comprehend this latest twist, the Madame edged closer to her new man. "What do you think?"

"Amazing. I like the collar! Perfect for a bitch like her."

Stephanie cringed. She stopped a few feet in front of them and kneeled back. Realization fell on her like a lead weight.

Of course. The night in the office. It all makes sense now. He was in on it. He was always in on it. How could I have been such an idiot?

She tried to remember what had happened that night. It was the last memory she had and all that came to mind was looking out at the lights of the city and drinking...

"Champagne!" Snyde snapped. "Now!"

Stephanie rose to her feet, displaying her entire body to them. Then she grasped the freshly popped bottle from the metal bucket and poured two flutes. Handing them one each, they didn't thank her but instead waited for her to sink back to her knees and raised a toast to each other.

"To a wonderful evening," Snyde said, clinking his glass.

"The best is yet to come," said David, swigging the fizzy beverage. One of Snyde's long fingers played with his hair, then stroked circles on his chest.

I can't believe this. How could he do this to me?

Prunella placed her glass on the coffee table and stood up. He watched her as she did, his eyes grazing her curves as she reached out a hand to him. Together, they glared down at the once powerful and confident Stephanie Coy, now a stripped servant waiting at their feet for her next order. Snyde then turned to him and kissed him, deep and passionately. He kissed her back, swirling his tongue in her mouth and letting his hands trail down her back and below her waist. How Stephanie had longed to be the one to kiss him like that. Their display of affection hit her like a knife in the heart.

"Take my dress off," Snyde said, pulling her lips away. David moved to unzip her but she stopped him. "Not you. Her." She motioned to Stephanie. The redhead rose again, unzipping the dress she had helped put on earlier and allowing it to slide down to the floor, revealing the expensive lingerie. David's mouth opened, aroused as much by her body as by the sight of her being undressed by a beautiful naked woman. Stephanie folded the dress neatly and placed it on an armchair before returning to her spot on the carpet, hanging her head.

"Keep watching us, slut. Don't look away." The Madame's hands then moved to David's shirt and unbuttoned it slowly until she could pull it back, revealing his muscular chest. Stephanie had daydreamed of his bare torso in the past but that image was now being desecrated by the long slender fingers caressing his skin, moving down to his hips as they kissed again.

David kicked off his shoes and instinctively, Stephanie reached out, placing them neatly together. He laughed and Snyde grinned with him, pleased that he was there to witness her obedience. Within moments, she was unbuckling him, sliding his pants down. He kicked those off too and again, Stephanie picked them up, folding them, doing her part as their little helper. The bulge in David's shorts was evident and the older woman eagerly pressed her hand against it while he held her in his strong arms. Her bra came free and he dropped it to the floor carelessly to join the other clothes in the pile.

Snyde took his hand again and began to lead him to the large four poster bed, glancing in Stephanie's direction only to order her to follow. The young slavegirl padded across the floor after them, her face a picture of horror.

Please let me go! Don't make me watch! I can't take this!

Leaning back on the sheets, David pulled Prunella up on top of him, where she leaned down and tasted his mouth again. His hands slipped under the waistband of her black thong and slid them down around her thighs. Snyde removed them gracefully and kicked them towards Stephanie.

"Put them in your mouth...That's it. Just hold them there." Stephanie bit down on the sheer fabric and watched as he gripped her mistress's waist, pulling her towards him again and feeling her toned body moving on top of his. The domme ran her tongue down his chest and over his rippled abdomen, until she reached his shorts and decided he didn't them. As she yanked them down, his cock sprang free, thick and long, just as Stephanie had pictured it while sitting alone in her office.

Snyde locked her stare on the redhead as she let her breath tease the engorged prick inches from her face. Then with an exaggerated hunger, she pressed the full length of her tongue against it from base to tip. David shuddered at the warmth of her mouth and Stephanie shuddered because of the excruciating denial the woman had forced upon her. The Madame then grasped the cock, the same cock Stephanie had once believed would be hers. Smiling malevolently, she wrapped her lips around it, never taking her eyes off the naked girl by the bed. The woman's mouth sucked hard, the sides of her cheeks caving in each time she pulled her head back and sounds of pleasure emanating from both Prunella and David.

"Mmmm! MMMmm!" Snyde moaned, pulling the shaft out to see it twitch in her hand. "It's so big and hard! And it tastes soooo good in my mouth! Mmmmmm...."

The Madame was an expert. David had never had a blowjob feel so good and he clutched the sides of the mattress to keep himself from thrashing about, groaning loudly as the soft lips pumped up and down his shaft. Stephanie wanted to look away but she couldn't. The visual torture of her worst enemy, the woman who had ruined her life, now helping herself to the man she had once obsessed about was too much. The crystal blue eyes radiated misery. But still they watched.

Snyde eventually pulled away, leaving all eight or nine inches of David's stiff member coated in her saliva. The blonde then swung one long leg over his hips, straddling him and pressing her pussy onto his privates. David grabbed her by her enviable waist and helped her maneuver her weight.

Close your eyes! Please oh please...Just close them...

Instead of merciful darkness, Stephanie watched as her mistress guided him gently, easing herself inch by inch between her legs. With a loud cry, Snyde felt him slide inside her, pushing her walls apart.

"Oh fuck yeah..." the Madame breathed. David moved inside, pushing his pelvis up from the bed and burying himself to the hilt. In response, Snyde began to rock back and forth, sliding up his pole and sinking back down. "Oh yeah...Oh yeah...Oh my god...You're so fucking big..."

The couple made love, thrusting in unison, eliciting moans every time he went deeper inside her. Stephanie remained rooted to her spot, a subject to their erotic display. The older woman's back curving and her hips rolling as she bounced on top of his throbbing cock, making sure her slavegirl was in no doubt about how much pleasure she was having.

"Oh, baby! Yes! Yes! Yes! YESSSS! YESSS!" Snyde yelled, giving the springs a workout. David reached up and groped her large fake breasts, which barely moved as she rode him. He was clearly enjoying getting his hands full, feeling their exquisite bulbous shape. Snyde was happy to let him touch her wherever he wanted, throwing her head back and reveling in her conquest.

After some time, Snyde pushed herself up and David's cock slid out. He was visibly disappointed for a moment until he realized she was just changing positions and wanted him to follow her lead. Moving sideways across the bed, the woman moved to all fours, her face directly opposite Stephanie's. Looking at her slavegirl with a sadistic pout, she thrust her ass up and spoke in a seductive tone.

"Do me from behind, big boy," she sighed. "And you, bitch...play with your pussy. I want you to finger yourself while you watch the man of your dreams give me all the pleasure he'll never give you. But no cumming!"

David jumped into action, moving between her legs and lustily squeezing her firm buttocks. Her pussy was still slackened from his first round and he used his fingers to rub the edges, teasing her and opening her dripping pink tunnel. From this angle, he could look down on her naked back and just a few feet beyond, he could see his former colleague still kneeling on the floor, a thong hanging from her mouth and her own gorgeous milky white body displayed for him like a peep show act. He watched as Stephanie brought one hand in front of her and began to rapidly caress her clit. His cock almost hurt at how hard it made him and his purple head ached to return to the older woman's warm hole. Not one to ignore his own needs, he pressed home, spearing Prunella's cunt hard.

"OOooohhh! Shhhiiittttt!" Snyde moaned as he started to bang her doggy style. He was in control now and he wanted her to know it, his hands gripping her sides and practically lifting her off the mattress as he increased his speed.

Snyde bucked and moaned, once again keeping her eyes locked on Stephanie as much as she could. The shamed expression of the pretty red-haired bitch made her juices flow and she began to scream with each thrust. They fucked like animals. The bed creaked with their combined force and the candles flickered, casting their shadow across the wall like a pair of raging beasts. All throughout, Stephanie frigged her pussy, digging two fingers inside her slit, pumping them in and out.

"Look at you," Snyde laughed at the woman. "You pervert! Wanking yourself off as he's fucking me with his big cock! UHHHN! UHHHNN!" The thrusts grew even harder as Snyde writhed and shook. "Do you wish it was you? Do you wish it was your pussy he was fucking? He'd never fuck a pig like you in your wildest dreams! UHHNN! UHHHNNN! You're not worthy of his cock! UHHHNN! UHHNNNN! Oh yeah!...You're pathetic! You're a pathetic little worm! OH YES! YEEEEESSSSS!"

Snyde began to quake, hitting her climax in a fit of screams and judders. Her eyes rolled back and David groaned too, feeling the sides of her twat squeeze around him as she came. Stephanie's face was bright red and her own body was quivering with the sheer depth of her humiliating situation. Her fingers were slamming fast and hard into her sloppy cunt, leaving her lips plump and a drizzle of juice running down the sides of her pale thighs.

As the Madame gasped for breath, she pulled away from her man and lay back on the bed, guiding him on top of her and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Come closer, slut," she sneered at Stephanie. "Here!" She pointed to the very edge of the mattress and the girl reluctantly shuffled forward until she was touching the bed, staring up at them with a worried look. David sank back into her without protest and Snyde's sensitive box felt on fire at his touch.

"I said closer, bitch! You want to taste him? Put that pretty mouth of yours to good use and tongue his balls while he fucks me!"

Not like this...I can't bear it...

The black thong dropped to the carpet. David grinned as he suddenly felt Stephanie's tongue pressing against the back of his scrotum. He continued to rock in and out of Snyde's softened pussy and gritted his teeth as the sensation of two women servicing him at once sent shivers of delight through him.

Stephanie kept licking at the tightened sack as a new cloud of shame washed over her. Her mouth was being used like a cheap toy to their love making. She could feel the strength of every thrust he pushed into the woman and smell the arousal radiating off their hot skin. As David's ass humped inches from her face, Stephanie continued to masturbate, not receiving any order to let her stop. She had never felt so used.

"Fuck...yeah..." David moaned, his balls straining for release. "Ohhhh fuuuck..."

"Let me ride you, baby." Snyde slowed him down, withdrawing his cock suddenly and pushing him back. David was on the edge but allowed her to swap positions, giving him a chance to cool down and relax his limbs. The domme then turned away from him and lowered herself back onto his cock reverse-cowgirl style, her open cunt a hair away from her slave's face as it sank back onto the thick shaft. She leaned back, her hands planted against the bed as David wrapped his palms around her swollen tits and let her piston herself on top of him.

"Keep licking! You wanted his cock, didn't you? Then fluff it for me!"

The redhead leaned back in and did as she was told, flicking her tongue around the base of his dick as Snyde athletically pounded up and down, impaling herself on him. She could taste her mistress's familiar juices glazing it with every bounce and could see every detail of his pulsating prick embedding itself inside her.

"UHN! UHN! UHN! That's it, slut! UHN! UHN! UHN! UHN! See how a real woman does it! UHHHNN!"

I can't believe this is happening to me...

David couldn't see what was happening but he sure could feel it. The ferocious pussy and the wet eager tongue both working his cock at once was enough to push him back to his peak in just a minute.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh shit! I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking cum!"

"Do it, baby! Give it to me! Squirt your cum all over my pussy!" Snyde thrust hard against him until she felt his body go rigid. As soon as he did, she pushed off him, leaving his concrete hard dick resting against her warm twat. "Watch him give me what's mine!" she yelled at her sub.

The younger woman looked up just in time to see his veiny member quiver and explode, firing the first thick wad of cream high into the air and over the Madame's belly, before following with a series of hard spurts over her neatly trimmed bush. David roared as he climaxed, his deep howl practically shaking the walls.

Snyde let him finish off, allowing the last few drips to frost her labia. Satisfied that he was done, she lay back on the bed next to him, stroking his chest playfully. David breathed heavily, his muscles coated in perspiration. His lover giggled and looked down at Stephanie with a contrasting look of disgust. "Seeing as how you're so desperate for his cum, I bet you'd like to taste it now, wouldn't you?"

NO!

"...Yes, miss," Stephanie mumbled, feebly.

"I can't hear you!"

"Yes. Yes, mistress. Please may I taste his cum?"

"Don't miss a single drop."

As a further agonizing indignity, Stephanie pressed her face towards the woman's greasy snatch and began to lick, tasting the salty goop on her tongue. She lapped at it like a puppy, slurping every centimeter. David and Prunella watched and laughed at her pitiable cleanup operation, then kissed each other again, long and hard, still in awe of each other's sexual prowess.

With amusement, Snyde suddenly noticed that Stephanie was still rubbing her own pussy and commanded her to stop, which the girl did, almost as disappointed as she was relieved. Despite her desire to escape this situation, her body had now been surrendered to her base needs and the urge to cum was a powerful itch crying out to be scratched. "Still horny, hm? Well we'll see what we can do about that. David, would you like another drink?"

"I could definitely use something cold right about now."

"Help yourself to more champagne. I'm just going to grab something from the dresser. Be a dear and take the bitch with you."

Beaming, David rolled off the bed, his drooping cock still thick between his legs. As he walked to the sofa, stretching his tired limbs, he grabbed Stephanie by her luscious burgundy locks and made her crawl alongside him, picking up the champagne bottle on his way. Still naked and sweaty, he pulled the fleece throw over the cushion and sat down on it, spreading his legs out and making Stephanie wait on all fours in front of him, eye level with his worked out privates. He glugged from the neck of the bottle. "Ahhh! Refreshing."

"Now that's a perfect position," Snyde grinned, adjusting the harness now strapped around her waist. David looked at the flesh-colored dildo protruding from the blonde's crotch and nodded slowly, his mouth stretching from ear to ear. Snyde approached Stephanie from behind and kneeled behind her, tickling the tip of her toy to the slavegirl's damp slit. "Look into his eyes while I fuck you."

The cold rubber pushed her lips apart and Stephanie welcomed it inside, needing to finish herself off no matter what. She moaned lightly as Snyde began to buck against her, demeaning the young woman in front of her former crush.

"Fuck yourself on it," Snyde ordered, stopping her rhythmic motion. "I'm not going to do it for you."

Stephanie cringed and began to bounce her desperate cunt along the length of the shaft, her moans increasing as she was handed the small freedom to go at her own pace. Not wanting to spend long in this embarrassing position, she humped the dildo hastily, her butt jiggling against her owner's hips. Snyde blew David a kiss and played with her own tits, teasing him with this impromptu sex show. His cock began to stir again, twitching back to life while he downed another mouthful from the bottle.

"Oh!...Oh!...Oh!... Yeah...yeah....Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!..." All through Stephanie's soft exasperated cries, she kept her clear blue eyes on David, pleading silently to stop the madness and help her. But he was hard again and the sight of the bitch getting put in her place was a miracle to behold.

It didn't take long for Stephanie to reach her edge. The plastic phallus was sliding in and out with ease and her walls were overly sensitive to its touch.

"Please may I cum, miss?...PLEASE!?"

"Awww, the little slut's begging," Snyde said, "I tell you what...I'll count down from five and you can cum on zero, but not before then. Understand?"

"YES! YES, MISS!" she cried out, wanting to speed things up.

"Five," Snyde began, winking at David, who was now gently touching himself.




"...Ohhh! Mmmmmm!..." Stephanie was willing her to hurry.

"Four."

"...Oooooohhhh..."

"Three."

"...AAAAAHhhhhhh..."

"Two."

Please please please please...

"One and a half."

"OHHHH!" Stephanie screamed in frustration. Snyde and David laughed.

"One and a quarter."

"Oh, please, miss! I need to cum! Please let me cum! I'll do anything!!"

"Well of course you will!" the Madame grinned, slapping her hand against Stephanie's frantically bouncing ass. "Now...where was I?...Hmmmm...oh, yes...ZERO."

"OOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUCCCCKKKK! FUUUCCCKKK! FUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK!"

Stephanie's body trembled and spasmed. A powder keg exploded within her and all of her muscles seized up at once. The world turned into an array of stars and the faint sound of their laughter was drowned in a deep well of hormones, flooding to her head and raising goosebumps on her neck. Her high soon began to return to earth again and her arms collapsed, leaving her bent over on the floor, her ass still poised in the air and skewered with the mistress's strap-on.

"What a bad girl she is. How she craves for humiliation..." Snyde extracted herself from the slippery opening and began to unfasten the harness around her.

"I can't believe she ever thought I'd want to sleep with her. Wanna go for round two?" David asked, feeling suddenly refreshed and in need of his own gratification.

Snyde eyed his cock hungrily and took him by the hand. "Slave, go to your bed and stay silent. We'll need breakfast at Nine AM sharp tomorrow morning. See that it's here."

Stephanie watched as they kissed and fondled each other, their arousal fuelled again. Obedient to the last, she crawled shakily into the cage and propped herself onto the large cushion. On the way back to the bed, Snyde kicked the cage door shut with a clang and the electronic lock winked from green to red, trapping the slave behind the metal bars for the next several hours until the timed release would beep to inform her that she was to bring them juice and croissants. "Happy birthday," the Madame said sarcastically.

From her pen, she could hear them. Their constant soft moans. The rhythmic slaps of their bodies moving against each other. The quiet creak of the bed springs. Everything she had thought she'd possessed had been stripped away from her. Stephanie felt like crying but she had been told from the start that she was not allowed to weep. Instead, she curled up in a ball and tried to shut them out. Yet all night, the echoes of their mocking voices swam around in her head and her dreams were haunted by their cruelty.

Chapter 5: Ladies' Night
Tags: lezdom, humiliation, spank, exhibitionism

Every night at The Meat Market was ladies' night.

The club on the edge of town was once a large warehouse but had been converted into the city's premier lesbian bar. Its popularity was no surprise. Featuring great beats, cheap drinks and heavy security, the bar was such an attraction that women drove for miles to get through the door. Best of all, the bar was fully licensed as a strip club and offered half naked girls at all times, from cages above the dance floor to the waitresses serving the drinks. It was a Mecca of female-on-female lust and everyone had the mysterious Prunella Snyde to thank for setting it up.

For her part, Snyde could often be seen in the club, observing through the one-way glass of her VIP suite and sometimes coming out to announce new promotions. On that particular Saturday night, she was rumored to be somewhere in the building.

The limo rolled up to the gate and one of the bouncers opened the door, relaying a message on his headset to inform whoever was on the other end that the car had arrived. Alison stepped out first, looking up at the large industrial building and thinking it always reminded her of an abattoir. Probably how it got its name, she thought.

Behind her, her colleagues emerged, already confused and excited by the chauffeur driven ride and the all expenses paid night out that had so far seen them treated to a magnificent meal at one of the fanciest restaurants in town.

Megan was with them, several weeks into her new role as Chem-Silon's branch manager and already making a positive difference to the quarterly outlook. Dressed elegantly, she walked arm-in-arm with Jennifer, the recently re-employed member of the team who was now an assistant P.A. to Alison herself. Not only had the girl been given a pay rise and a formal apology from the company, she had been assured that Stephanie Coy would not be returning. Jennifer felt much better about the position and unlike her previous experience, was finally getting the respect she had wanted. Megan knew the feeling. They giggled as they stepped out of the limo, curious about their surroundings.

Along with them were Derek and Trent, the mid-level sales and marketing team leaders who had also once suffered the wrath of the former office bitch from hell. Now, with new pay packets and a new boss, they were already feeling better about their lives. All that paled in comparison to the discovery outside the car door.

Looking up at sign above the steel door and along the row of women lining up to get in, Derek put two and two together. "Err...Alison? I think you, er, you've brought us to a lesbian bar."

"Yes, I know," Alison replied chirpily, smoothing her new outfit and walking towards the entrance. The men looked at each other, completely bewildered. Jennifer hesitated too, her apple pie sensibilities leaving her suddenly apprehensive to go inside.

"But, I think what he means," Trent interjected, "is that...er, well, it's a lesbian bar."

"Yeah," Derek continued. "We're not even going to be allowed in...Are we?"

"Of course you are. We're all on the list." Proving her point, the CEO shook hands with the burly bouncer, who then stood aside, holding the door open for them without any delay. "Will you just trust me?"

Still puzzled, the group exchanged silent glances. Finally, Megan tugged Jennifer on the arm and pressed them forward. "Come on, Alison knows what she's doing."

Jennifer nervously went along with her, leaving the boys behind them. Then, with a final look of puzzlement, Derek and Trent turned to the door, realized at the same time that this was probably an opportunity they wouldn't get again and bounded for the entrance.

Inside, their senses were assaulted by flashing lights and a loud rhythmic bass. Alison seemed unfazed by it all and allowed the bouncer to lead them to their booth, reserved just for them. The group slid into the leather seats and Derek and Trent looked over to the dance floor where several attractive women were writhing around in cages suspended from the ceiling and wearing barely anything to cover their hard toned bodies. Megan and Jennifer laughed as they watched their male colleagues' eyes practically pop out of their heads and then high five each other.

The bouncer told them a waitress would be with them in a moment to take their drinks order and then lurched away.

"This is unreal!" Derek said above the noise.

"Nope, it's real alright!" Alison said, eyeing the cocktail menu. "Order whatever you want."

As the team scoured the drinks, their waitress approached. Megan looked up and in seconds, her face dropped in disbelief. Just as Alison had felt two weeks ago, she thought she might need someone to pinch her. She peered closer to make sure she wasn't hallucinating and then nudged Jennifer in the arm.

"Ow! What is..." Jennifer tailed off, seeing the waitress standing by the table.

"Welcome to The Meat Market. Are you ready to order your drinks?" The woman wasn't just drawing stares from the table. Other women passing by found their gaze wandering over her because all she was dressed in was a thong, a pair of plastic pumps and a pair of nipple tassels, leaving her pert breasts openly swinging behind the notepad and pencil poised in her hands.

But that wasn't the only thing that had made Megan and Jennifer gawk. Even Derek and Trent were now staring open-mouthed and speechless. The waitress had a familiar face. Too familiar. One they'd hoped to avoid but had never imagined would appear in a place like this.

Patiently, Stephanie waited for them to respond, trying not to make eye contact with any of her former employees. She looked sullen and ashamed. Alison was first to break the silence.

"Five cosmos," she said quickly, flipping the menu closed. Stephanie jotted the order down and then retreated to the bar.

"What...the...fuuuuck?" Trent croaked.

"Well, I guess you know what the surprise was now!" Alison said. "Isn't it nice that she found gainful employment so quickly?"

"You can't be serious..." Derek said, his face breaking into an ear-to-ear grin. "This is unreal!"

The men shared another high five, still doubting their own eyes. Megan shook her head in wonder, laughing with them. She looked over at Jennifer, who was visibly shaking and still clearly upset by the memory of working for Stephanie Coy. "Hey, it's ok."

Jennifer just nodded, staring off into the swirling lights of the club.

After a few minutes, Stephanie returned with a tray and five cosmopolitans with lemon wedges. They said nothing as they watched her serve each one to them. Trent's head leaned to the side, gawping at her near naked body.

"Thank you," Stephanie said, her once sharp tone now replaced with soft compliance. "Everything tonight is on the house. If you need anything else this evening, please just let me know."

Just as she turned to hurry back to the bar, Jennifer stood up. "Yes! There is something!" she called out. Megan saw the girl's hands ball up at her sides and for an anxious moment wondered if she'd gone crazy and had a fleeting vision of being thrown out of the club for starting a fight.

Stephanie turned back, clearly unnerved by Jennifer's tone. "Yes, ma'am?"

Jennifer slid out of the booth and picked up the cocktail, squaring up to her former boss. Then, without warning, she tossed the contents into Stephanie's face.

"Oh fuck!" Megan said, rising to stop her. But Alison reached out and took Megan by the wrist. Seeing the relaxed smile on Alison's face, Megan lowered herself back in the seat, remembering their conversation about trust.

"This glass is dirty," Jennifer said evenly. "Get me another one."

Stephanie stood motionless for a moment, the alcohol dripping off her chin. "Of course, ma'am. I'm so sorry. I'll get you a replacement right away." Slowly, she picked up a napkin and dropped to the ground, wiping up the spillage as quickly as she could. Jennifer didn't take her eyes off her but was now astonished that the woman had reacted so submissively. She remained there, surprised by her own actions as much as Stephanie's as the red-haired bitch scurried away in her slutty outfit.

Megan and whooped loudly, applauding Jennifer for standing up for herself. Not that she was any closer to understanding what was happening.

"There's probably a few things I need to fill you in on," Alison said to Megan, raising her glass to toast their night out and giving her a wink. The group returned the toast and Megan took a long gulp of her drink.

Whatever Alison had done, she seemed to have managed to turn the world upside down.

Stephanie proved to be a popular addition to the staff at the club. Tending bar and serving drinks in her indiscreet uniform always guaranteed a lot of attention from the patrons. She found that just like in regular bars, she had to put up with wandering eyes and constant leers, not to mention the frequent pinches to her butt and whispered propositions whenever she walked through the room. She was one of the few heterosexual women in the place but she had just as much experience attending to other women's needs as most of the lesbian staff or customers.

At around 10 o'clock, another female staff member would relieve her of her bar duties, marking the beginning of her other job function. All those years of dance practice and dreams of starring in musicals...she never thought it would all just lead to dancing in a cage in a seedy dyke bar. But dance in the cage she did, stripped to just her thong, oiled up and forced to entertain a mass of sweating, horny women on the dance floor a few feet below her. She put Nina's tuition to use, spinning, writhing and bending her body in a seductive display of pure sexual energy.

Then there were the private dances. For a few bucks, anyone could have a one-to-one session in one of the VIP rooms. To be made to perform her sexual routine while being ogled and fondled by a tipsy lesbian made her feel so cheap. Having dollar bills snapped into the waistband of her thong and knowing she wouldn't even be getting the money at the end of the night just added insult to injury.

One patron in particular would always watch Stephanie's erotic routine with great interest. Bernie...or "Big" Bernie...was a mountain of a woman. Grossly overweight with thick arms covered in tattoos, she sported a close-cropped haircut and never ventured into the club in anything but jeans and a stained wife-beater. She had been infatuated with the new starter since the first day the redhead had appeared in the club and she hadn't been afraid to let her know. Every time she was in, she would pay through the nose for a private dance, unraveling a wad of bills in her sweaty palms and sitting mesmerized in her seat as the dancer gyrated in front of her. Stephanie would try not to actually touch the disgusting woman during the routine but now and then, Bernie's wayward hands would deny her any choice.

That night, Stephanie had looked down midway through her routine and to her horror, saw Bernie standing beneath her, a cup of beer in one hand the other crudely stuffed down the front of her pants, touching herself while she watched. Stephanie tried to put it to the back of her mind and when her hour was up, she hurried out of the cage to get to the dressing room as soon as she could.

A thick hand grabbed her arm as she tried to flee.

"You can run, rabbit, but you ain't gonna hide," Bernie's menacing southern accent threatened, speaking directly into her ear, her stale beer breath only inches from her face. "I know you want me."

Stephanie took one glance at the greasy bulldyke and saw her wriggling her horrible tongue in her direction, then took off through the crowd as quick as she could.

Alison had wondered all night where her friend was. She couldn't imagine that the very night Prunella had given her and her work friends VIP access to the club was one of the few nights she wasn't there herself. Just as she was beginning to think she should send her a text, the music ground to a halt and the whole club went dark.

A second later, spotlights hit the stage area and the sound of a shrill bell sounded through the speakers. The women on the dance floor went wild. Madame Prunella Snyde, club owner, philanthropist and enigma, appeared under the bright lights to rapturous applause. Alison stood up to join them. Oh, how she envied her sometimes...

The striking blonde femme fatale was dressed in a blouse that showed off her ample chest and a figure-hugging black pencil skirt that held seductively to her slender waist. Her long legs were accentuated with seamed stockings and on the end of her nose sat dark-rimmed glasses, giving her a stern and official look. More overtly, she grasped a long cane in her hands, further emphasizing the appearance of a headmistress.

"Students, settle down!" she said into the microphone, her authoritative British accent booming over the noise. The patrons hushed, falling into silence save for some nervous laughter and a few drunken whoops. "I hope you're all enjoying your recess. But class is now in session and we have a lot to learn today!"

More whoops and hollers from the crowd as they inched forward.

"Unfortunately, some of my class has been VERY naughty this week," she continued, "So naughty that I have no choice but to bring them in for detention..." she flexed the rod and the crowd again went into a frenzy. "Would you like me to bring out the culprits?"

A cheer went up with cries of 'Bring them out! Bring them out!'

The lights swirled and span around the club and music kicked in. Then the spotlight fell again and three women emerged from the side of the stage, strutting to the beat. Each of them were dressed in exaggerated schoolgirl outfits. Their white shirts were tied at a knot at the waist and left halfway open, exposing their midriffs and letting thin school ties fall loose between their cleavage. Their tartan miniskirts were so short, they revealed every inch of their legs, adorned with white cotton knee high socks and teetering on polished black pumps. Each of them had their hair tied up in bunches and as they emerged, the audience discovered the trio were a healthy mix: a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.

The blonde in the front of the pack was a dancer at the club called Heather. She wasn't a lesbian but she enjoyed working at the bar. The money was great and it felt a lot safer than most of the strip clubs she'd worked at after moving to the city on her own. Plus, now and again she could make more dough doing one of these performances and it wasn't as if she didn't get thrill out of them now and then. Heather came on as the 'wild' one, sucking a lollipop suggestively and playing it up to the crowd.

Alison recognized the brunette. Nina's tall, busty frame and high cheekbones were every bit as eye-catching under the hot lights. She was popular with the customers too, though not many of them knew about her day-today life. Nina flirted with the onlookers at the side of the stage as she walked by, pretending to be the 'bitchy' one, an untouchable tease who knew she could have everyone eating out of her hand...or whatever else she presented them.

Tailing the group at the back, the last 'schoolgirl' to walk on was the 'shy' one. Not just for the benefit of the roleplay but in a very real sense. Stephanie had so far only been subjected to the dance cage and had yet to take to the stage until that night. Though she didn't hesitate to line up with the other two women, her face betrayed her dour apprehensiveness about her predicament as she looked over the sea of rabid drunk patrons eyeing her up in her slutty outfit like a piece of meat. Alison and the Chem-Silon workers were excited to see her involved in what was already proving to be a degrading routine.

"Ok, girls!" Snyde called out sternly, cutting the music off. "You all know why you've been kept back today but I don't think our lovely audience is as well informed." She unhooked the microphone and walked towards Heather, who was pretending not to care about the telling off. "You, girl! What have you been doing this week to warrant your detention?"

Heather tossed the lollipop on the floor like a brat and huffed at having to answer a question.

"I got caught in the girl's locker room...making out with a cheerleader!" Heather declared, winking at the crowd. They ate it up. Cheers erupted and Snyde shook her head in mock disapproval. The headmistress moved to the next young woman.

"And what about you, young lady?" she asked, pushing the mic out. Nina arched a single dark eyebrow and pursed her lips, defiantly. Her voice was as smooth and as sexy as ever.

"I was caught in the boy's locker room...sucking off the captain of the football team." The crowd's reaction was mixed with howls and jeers, riling the women who wanted her for themselves. Snyde stuck her tongue in her cheek and moved to the final girl.

"And you, girl? Tell my audience what transgression you're guilty of."

Stephanie blinked into the dazzling lights and leaned into the mic. "I was caught in the boy's locker room too, miss...sucking off the entire football team."

Snyde feigned an aghast look as laughter and boos drowned out all other noise. The reaction of the clubgoers suggested they disapproved of her imaginary dalliance with men rather than of women. Cries of 'Pu-nish them! Pu-nish them!' rippled from one end of the building to the other.

"I think I'd better!" said Snyde, taking back the mic. "Ok, ladies! You heard them. Assume the position!"

The women turned away from the audience in unison and lifted up the backs of their skirts, revealing a line up of tight-fitting white cotton underwear. The chants changed to 'Panties down! Panties down!"

"What's that?" Snyde asked them, teasing their patience. Stirring up the noise, she finally nodded, relenting to the will of the people. "Who am I to say no to you?...Girls, drop those knickers!"

Stephanie bit her lip. Although reluctant, she joined the other two performers in hooking their fingers into their waistbands, tugging their panties down and hoisting their skirts back up, exposing their bare asses to the horde. The place erupted again. Camera flashes peppered the stage like glitter. The Madame raised a hand to calm the commotion.

"I need THREE volunteers to assist me! Let me see those hands raised!" Snyde said, causing a rush to the front of the stage and walking up and down to find some willing participants. Stephanie couldn't see what was happening behind her but already she was preparing for the worst. About a minute later, the lucky 'students' were chosen and waiting on stage to help administer the punishment. The club owner's voice oozed through the speakers.

"First up, we'll start with little miss bratty over here," Snyde said, ushering one of the patrons towards Heather. "My flogger of choice is the classic hairbrush! Here you are, ma'am. Give her ten of your best!"

Heather felt the sudden slap of the flat side of a wooden brush on her right buttock and yelped in surprise. The woman delivering her punishment didn't have much of an arm and she knew she could take the discomfort. She saw the mic pushed under her nose and was ordered to count each blow.

"One, miss!" THWAP "Two, miss!" THWAP "Three, miss!" THWAP...

After ten counts, Heather was spun around to face the crowd. Instead of her earlier rebellious demeanor, she rubbed her ass and cowered to Snyde, letting everyone know she was very sorry. She was every inch the professional.

The Madame moved on to Nina, handing contestant number two the instrument for her sentence and holding a finger to her lips so that the crowd didn't give the game away. Nina waited patiently for the blow and when it came, her delectable round butt tensed hard in response. The lash of the Madame's own bamboo cane stung like a hornet.

"One, miss!" SSSWIP "Two, miss!" SSSWIP "Three, miss!....

The woman with the cane was scared of the power in her hands and, worried about causing any lasting damage, only whipped the cane half-heartedly. Still, the sensation was a familiar one to Nina and the ten strokes were enough to excite her masochistic tendencies. Turning around to face her punisher, she cast her eyes down in the same sheepish manner as Heather, apologizing for her infraction.

Finally, Snyde moved on to Stephanie, who was fast becoming her greatest conquest. With only one infernal tool left, she closed her eyes, praying it wouldn't be too cruel. But she could hear the crowd foaming to teach her a lesson and soon they were chanting 'Twen-ty! Twen-ty! Twen-ty!' Bracing herself, she heard her mistress give the signal to begin...

...and reeled at the sudden impact.

THWACK! "OW! One, miss!" THWACK "Oooh! Two, miss!"...

The broad leather paddle made contact with both cheeks at once and made an immense sound as it struck them. Unlike Nina's genteel pairing, Stephanie's tormentor had no interest in holding much back.

THWACK "Eight, miss!" THWACK "Nine, miss!" THWACK "Uuuh! Ten, miss!"

But happy to curry favor with her loyal customers, Snyde waved the woman on to complete ten more of her finest. The paddle again caused the slavegirl to grimace and her white ass to turn a rosy shade.

THWACK "Nineteen, miss! THWACK "Twenty, miss!...Sorry, miss! Sorry! Mercy!" Stephanie pleaded, yanking her underwear up and clutching her cheeks at the first opportunity. Before the Madame allowed her to turn around, she clutched the collar of Stephanie's shirt and raised the mic to her own lips.

"What do you think, ladies?! Who do you think wins tonight's game?" Snyde asked, generating a ripple of votes from the dance floor, mostly pointing to lucky number three. "Sounds like a win for number three and her paddle of justice! And tonight just so happens to include a very special prize!...The winner gets to take their girl home this weekend for another twenty four hours of detention! Congratulations!"

WHAT? She's lending me out??

Stephanie's eyes bugged, but not as much as they did when she finally got to see who she would be going home with. Big Bernie grinned and raised her flabby arms in victory. Before Stephanie could fully process her situation, Snyde gripped her by her school tie and handed it to Bernie, whose chunky fingers held tight, pulling Stephanie towards her.

"Ah told you ya couldn't ruuun!" Bernie said. "We gonna have all sorts a fun together now!"

Snyde leaned into Stephanie's trembling face. "Do anything she asks you. You will obey her like you do me until you return to the house."

The young woman heard herself accepting her mistress's orders and then felt a tug on her neck, half choking her as Bernie dragged her off the stage in a hurry to get home, parading her trophy through the envious throng.

Megan watched as her former boss was towed unceremoniously to the door. I guess karma really does exist, she thought to herself, turning to say the same thing to Jennifer. Only Jennifer wasn't with her. The young girl was on the dance floor, cheering along with the crowd, practically drunk on happiness.

Chapter 6: Like a Redhead to a Bull
Tags: FFF+, lezdom, humiliation, cunnilingus, analingus, w/s

Bernie's home was no more than an old trailer hidden away in a clearing in the woods. The obese redneck pulled her catch from her pickup truck and led her up a dusty trail under the cover of night. Up in the trees, crows cawed, piercing the silence.

Through the creaking door, Stephanie observed a rundown living space, complete with peeling linoleum, a filthy kitchen area and discarded fast food packaging littering the floor. Further in, a dirty mattress sat on a pull out bed and Bernie sat her heavy frame down on it, eliciting squeaks from the long suffering springs. She pulled Stephanie in front of her and looked her up and down with a lascivious glare.

"Yyyyep! Yer one fine piece a pussy, aintcha?" she said, practically drooling. "Turn around for mama."

Stephanie turned slowly in a circle, fearing that any sudden movement could lead to her being mauled like a pitbull's dinner. The woman on the bed didn't attack. Instead, her belly made a low gurgling sound and she belched loudly.

"Mmm-mm! And you been playing hard to git, huh? Teasing me all them nights...How bout you take off the shirt?"

Stephanie let her hands grip the knot at her waist and pulled it loose. Bernie stared in awe as the soft mounds of flesh fell free and the small pink nipples stood proudly out, promising so much.

"More," Bernie mumbled, "gimme those panties."

The tighty-whiteys came down for the second time of the evening and Stephanie stepped out of them, offering them over to her temporary owner. Bernie snatched them hungrily and held them up to her nose, inhaling deeply.

"You smell goooood! But you been such a little tease. Git here!" With a sudden strong tug, the bulldyke pulled Stephanie towards her and threw her over her lap. Her skirt rose up and she felt the spongy hand rain down several smacks on her ass. Squirming against this light beating, Stephanie felt the spanks turn to caresses as Bernie pawed and squeezed her delicate behind, murmuring quietly to herself. The big woman couldn't believe she finally had the girl in her grasp. The skirt was roughly unpinned and thrown haphazardly across the room, leaving Stephanie in just her socks and shoes. Then, the burgundy-haired temptress felt herself being pushed to the floor.

"Help mama get her pants down!" Bernie said, breathlessly, shucking her boots off.

Stephanie grimaced but obeyed, fiddling with the buttons and helping the wheezing giant to shuffle awkwardly out of her jeans. The woman's enormous legs kicked free and she stretched her tired feet contentedly.

"Start with ma feet, ya little slut. Show me what you'll do fer me."

Ew, ew, ew, ew...

Bernie's thick toes were horrible enough to look at but Stephanie sank her face to the ground and experienced the immense displeasure of pressing them to her mouth, kissing and sucking on each one as Bernie watched her naked body bowing down in service. The slavegirl took her time, massaging and licking the swollen heels and hardened skin until Bernie seemed happy enough to scoot back on the bed and order Stephanie to get up on the mattress with her.

Somewhat relieved, the young woman clambered on, only to find Bernie struggling to yank her sweat stained wife-beater off. Helping her to undress, Stephanie was rewarded...if that could even be the case...with the sight of two mountainous flabby breasts hanging halfway down her huge gut. It was a terrible sight to behold but she couldn't make herself look away. It was only when Bernie laid back did Stephanie realize the woman was pulling off her underwear: a pair of men's boxers. When she finally managed to wriggle free, her cavernous pussy peered out from under the shade of several rolls of fat.

"Well don't just sit there! Get me goin'! Do yer thing!" Bernie said, pointing to her furry crotch.

Oh fuck my life!

Her glossy red hair descended into the depths of the dark and wiry undergrowth. The first thing she noticed was the stench. Bernie didn't wash much. Maybe even couldn't thanks to her weight. Her quivering plump pussy was already oozing with excitement and Stephanie had to breathe through her mouth as she explored Bernie's secret places. For her part, Bernie giggled and moaned, clutching the bed sheet while the beautiful young woman ate her out like she hadn't been eaten out in years.

The trailer rocked as Bernie jolted and thrashed about, her flabby thighs sometimes pressing against the sides of Stephanie's head, making the girl feel like she was going to be crushed.

"Yeeeeah, that's it, lover! That's it right there! Make me cum! Make mama cuuuuummmm!"

Foul smelling juice flowed onto Stephanie's lips, making her cry out in horror. But Bernie didn't care. She was having the time of her life.

"There's more where that came from!" the large woman exclaimed, taking a minute to rest and seeing the ceiling spin in circles above her. "Let's get you comfy."

Bernie rolled off and Stephanie found herself being flipped onto the mattress on her back. Methodically, Bernie opened a bedside drawer and picked out a number of items while her prisoner waited, still dazed from her revolting oral adventure. Bernie pulled Stephanie's legs apart wide and tied both of her ankles to the rusted metal bedposts. Then, she lifted Stephanie's arms above her head, binding them together with a cord and tying them firmly to the railing above her. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't have escaped. Bernie just felt better about the idea of keeping her in place for her next indulgence.

"There you go...just how I like it." The bed groaned as Bernie climbed on and for an anxious second, Stephanie thought she might have the breath squeezed out of her as Bernie clambered on top, dropping her belly against Stephanie's and leaning down to smother her with her enormous tits.

Following the intimidating commands of the massive woman, the slavegirl kissed and suckled at the large nipples, delighting them with her tongue and making them hard. The pendulous breasts bounced off her face as Bernie tittered and wriggled about, her gross weight grinding against the infinitely more appealing body beneath her.

Bernie sat up with a start. "Say, is you hungry? Cos I'm starving!"

The woman rustled about on the floor, finding a bucket of fried chicken she'd had most of at lunch and pulling out a drumstick coated in grease. Bernie teased her bound captive, waving the food in front of her. Stephanie's eyes followed it as it moved from her line of sight and down between her legs. She felt its moist oily skin tickling her exposed cunt, making her shudder. Pleased with the reaction, Bernie went a step further, mashing the chicken leg against her lips, leaving a greasy residue on her smooth skin. The ravenous woman then took a big bite from the drumstick, chewing noisily and sighing with pleasure. Stephanie didn't know what got the beast off more...food or sex. The sounds she made were all the same.

"Don't like chicken, huh? Naw...but I know what you like. You're more of a salad girl, ainthcha?"

It was then that Bernie decided to climb back on top, only this time, she turned her back and threw one of her huge legs over Stephanie's chest until she was straddling her. All Stephanie could see was Bernie's fat ass just inches from her face. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of it, the colossal cheeks wobbling before her like two half-deflated beach balls. Bernie peered back over her shoulder, grinning wildly. "You wanna toss my salad?"

Stephanie wanted to protest with her entire being but her physical ability to refuse her mistress or her wishes had long defeated every ounce of resistance in her and she heard herself stutter: "Y-yes, Miss Bernie."

"Oh, you do, huh? I don't give it up that easy...beg me. Beg to lick mama's ass."

"P-please, mama. Please may I lick your ass?"

"You can do better than that! BEG!" The great white ass shook from side to side.

"Oh, please let me lick your ass, Miss Bernie! I live to please you! Please let me taste your butt! I beg you! Please!"

"Reach for it!" Bernie bellowed, inching closer.

Stephanie's neck strained, her head trying to make up the distance and her tongue protruding to flail at the air between. "Pleeeease! I want to lick your ass!!"

"Well, since you asked nicely..." Bernie backed up, using one hand to spread her dimpled cheeks apart and pushing her crack directly over Stephanie's shocked face. Taking a quick breath, the redhead found herself consumed by the portly flesh, her nose pressed against the disgusting puckered hole.

"Sniff it first!" Bernie yelled.

She did as commanded, breathing in the funky aroma. Then she wriggled herself up the crevasse, planting her mouth around Bernie's asshole.

"Yeeeah!" Bernie cried out, her head flying back, her eyes rolling. "Tongue fuck it! French kiss my shithole!"

The soft wet tongue mashed against Bernie's rectum. Stephanie went to work like a desperate whore, rimming the hole to make it wet before stiffening her tongue to push inside and spreading the walls of Bernie's back passage.

Bernie squealed, pumping her hips to keep the momentum going, shaking the trailer with powerful shudders. She took another bite of the chicken leg, grease trickling down her chins. Could life get any better, she wondered?

Humiliated and suffering, Stephanie's body translated her emotions into inverse chemical releases, firing her synapses with unwanted elation. Her own clitoris rose from its hood and Bernie looked down at the fruits of her midnight devotee hungrily. She slobbered on Stephanie's twat, pressing her head down to lap at it.

As the grotesque sixty-nine continued, Bernie's gut gurgled loudly again. "Hee-ew! Musta been all them beers I had at the club..." she said between mouthfuls of fresh first-rate pussy. Once more, her belly rumbled, long and ominous. Bernie stopped suddenly, raising her head. "Aw, hell! You better lock those lips tight, little girl. I'm about to blow you a hershey's kiss..."

Stephanie let out a stifled shriek but had no way of fleeing what was about to come. Bernie groaned and released the tension building inside her. The trailer stopped rocking, only to filled with the sound of a long muffled fart, sending Stephanie's trapped body into spasms of desperate squirms.

Life for Bernie couldn't be better but for Stephanie, she had definitely just hit her lowest point. So far. The night went on and on, and despite her hefty size, Bernie showed a lot of stamina, abusing her prisoner's confined body in all sorts of ways until she passed out in a snoring heap on top of it.

By the time the sun had come up and songbirds were tweeting outside, Stephanie had barely slept but she was exhausted. Still tied to the bed, her arms and legs felt stiff. It was a small mercy that Bernie had to go to put in a shift that morning on a construction site.

"Now don't you be trying to go anywhere, lover," the woman said lightheartedly, tying her boots. "I'm gonna be back in a few hours for football practice and then you and me are gonna surprise the girls." She picked up Stephanie's discarded panties and with a wink, shoved them into her pocket to take with her. "Gonna keep hold a these to remind me of our makin' love last night. Oh wait! You probably want mine too!"

Stephanie squirmed as Bernie picked up her own wretched boxers and stuffed them ruthlessly into Stephanie's mouth.

"Don't want you calling out, neither, just in case. That should help! See you soon, princess!"

With that, Bernie stepped out of the door, taking one last look at the beautiful nude woman spread-eagled on her bed and shut it behind her. The sound of a metal padlock reverberated within the walls and her heavy footsteps disappeared up the path.

The Bulls were the meanest football team in the Female State League.

They were State Champions four years running and had made an impact on the regional and national leagues, tearing through most of their opposition like paper. Most of the players were big, butch women, either toned muscle or a lot of excess weight. They spent their days working on construction sites, in garages or as security guards and then taking their frustrations to the field every Sunday for practice or to destroy another team. Their name was appropriate too. An in-joke, if you will. Nearly all of them were homosexual and those that weren't were probably borderline.

That Sunday, around twenty of the squad clamored into the locker room, fresh off the field. Shouting and cussing, the women trading jokes and good-natured insults, congratulating each other on a good session. As they threw off their pads and helmets, Bernie sat down on a bench, watching them filter in like a pack of...well, bulls.

"Yo, Bernie. What you smilin' at?" asked Jantel, a toned, muscular receiver with short dreads. "You look like you high."

Bernie chuckled to herself and some of the other players broke off their conversations to look over at her, wondering what the big woman was doing.

"I love my sisters!" Bernie yelled, wiping her hand over her scalp.

"Ah, don't be such a girl!" Jantel replied.

"No, I mean it. And cos I love you all so much, I took the pleasure of getting you all a little surprise."

That got more attention and the women standing nearby looked at each other questioningly as they pulled off their muddy uniforms. Without another word, Bernie grinned and nodded toward the communal shower room.

Jantel looked over. Nothing seemed different. "A surprise? In the shower room?"

Bernie just smiled back and Jantel immediately threw her towel around her and walked through to the back of the locker room. Two of the others followed behind, curious.

Jantel was the first to enter, muttering under her breath that this better not be some lame prank. As she did, she stopped, slowly taking in the scene and wondering whether her eyes were tricking her. Then she screamed. An ear-piercing scream that instantly shut the room down into silence. The squad looked at each other, then ran to find out what had happened.

"What the hell is it?" one of the women asked.

Jantel staggered out of the shower room, hand clasped to her mouth and trying to catch her breath. The two players who had followed behind her cautiously poked their heads inside, their imaginations running wild.

It hadn't been a scream of horror. It had been one of amazement. Both women gazed inside the white tiled room and saw Bernie's surprise waiting for them.

Stephanie Coy was sitting alone on the floor, her hands tied above her to one of the shower levers and naked as the day she was born. Her pretty blue eyes stared up at them in fear.

"What the...fuck?" one of the players said quietly, not sure she if she was awake or dreaming.

"Holy shit, Bernie!" Jantel shrieked, her face lighting up, "I love you too, girl!"

The other players, all in various states of undress, raced for the entrance, eager to be clued in. They all reacted in much the same way when they laid eyes on the attractive redhead, gazing back at them like a deer caught in headlights. Some of them ventured inside and soon, the entire squad was squeezing into the room, forming a ring around Stephanie and asking Bernie a hundred questions.

"She's all ours to play with," Bernie explained. "I won a competition and she's mine til the end of the day."

"Hey, I recognize her! It's the new girl from the Market," said one, peering closely.

"Wait, we get to do WHATEVER we want with her?" asked another.

"Whatever we want," Bernie confirmed. "How d'ya think I spent last night?"

The women fell about themselves, laughing and high-fiving and slapping Bernie on the back. But it wasn't long before their attention turned directly onto Stephanie and their expressions indicated they were ready to make the most of this gift. Bernie untied her hands and grabbed a clump of her hair with her sausage-like fingers.

"Come on, don't be shy," she said, dragging Stephanie forward on her hands and knees. A few of the women reached down, prodding and stroking Stephanie's back. Soon, more of them were stepping, feeling every inch of her body, squeezing her ass and grabbing her face roughly to see how she looked.

"Damn, this pretty white bitch turned up at the wrong fuckin' locker room," Jantel laughed, groping one of Stephanie's tits. Another woman went straight for her uncovered cunt, running her fingers between the folds and causing her teammates to crack up. The girl didn't protest. Game on.

A tall, chubby woman with a tattoo across her chest threw off her towel and came forward. Grabbing the girl by the head with both hands, the woman began grinding her pussy onto Stephanie's face, telling her to put out. Everyone watched in awe as she did, lapping thirstily at the puffy lips assaulting her nose.

"Shit, she's givin' it up!" one of them cried out. "Go for it, Irene! Ride that bitch's face!"

Irene didn't need the encouragement but found herself being spurred on as her clit was stimulated. Some of the women had brought their camera phones in, documenting the rising depravity. It wasn't long before Irene was pushed aside and other women were taking their turns on Stephanie's face or straddling her back, making her carry their weight while she struggled to keep up with their sexual demands.

"Hey!" Bernie called out, overseeing the action. "She's a natural ass licker! Trust me!"

The women laughed and crowded around, wanting to experiment. Stephanie was penned in, imprisoned by a circle of lusty bullies now turning their asses to her. Bernie guided her to each one, demonstrating the extent of the subservience on offer by making her kiss their cheeks.

"Clean it!" Irene demanded.

Stephanie buried her face in Irene's crack and ran her tongue from bottom to top and back, removing a layer of dank sweat, lapping and worshipping at the altar of her fat rump. Everyone demanded the same treatment. And true to form, she fulfilled their wishes.

"Bring her out to the lockers, there's more space!"

Four of the women picked her up, one limb each, carrying her out of the shower room like a prized pig. Then they passed her around from one to the next as they stripped off the last of their uniforms or towels, making it easier for the girl to explore their bodies. Naturally, it wasn't a pleasant experience. Many of them were brutish and overweight and all of them were keen to have Stephanie taste the remnants of their last hour on the field. She went from woman to woman, licking any part of their bodies presented to her. It became a game to see how far she would go. Musky pussies. Sweaty feet. Clammy armpits. Stephanie went through them all, not even slowing down. She couldn't, of course. But the Bulls had no way of knowing that and they wanted to keep testing.

After one beefy woman sat her on her knee and played with her tits like she was testing fruit in a supermarket, Stephanie found herself hurled back on the floor on her hands and knees, staring up at the team quarterback. Denise was their star player and she was confidently sitting on a bench, her legs spread open leaving no mystery about what she wanted. The redhead stuck her neck out and began to pleasure her.

During the act, Jantel came up behind Stephanie with a mop and proceeded to stick the handle between the girl's legs with the encouragement of her teammates. The thin aluminum pole slid inside, making her moan loudly between the quarterback's thighs.

"You know what?..." Jantel said, noticing the wetness of Stephanie's box and the gentle way she was willingly rocking back and forth against the handle. "...I think she's enjoying it!...Hey, Denise, bet she cums before you."

Denise flipped her a middle finger and then pressed Stephanie's face harder into her stale pussy, making her work harder. Both women began pounding their hips and Jantel fucked Stephanie with the mop as if she was churning butter, hammering it in and out at lightning speed.

After several minutes of action, Stephanie began to tense up, feeling herself reaching the point of climax. But just like her fast reactions on the field, Denise was getting there too. The mob yelled approval, taking bets on who would make it first.

Finally, Denise gritted her teeth and clamped her legs around Stephanie's head, breaking the girl's rhythm. Stephanie whined in frustration as Jantel lost her grip and the stick slid out, only for Denise to suddenly orgasm, humping the pretty face in front of her until the sensation passed.

"Shit," Jantel said, shoving Stephanie over with her foot. Denise raised her arm in triumph and then took a swig from a bottle of water. She turned the bottle over, dumping what was left onto Stephanie's head.

They weren't through with the slavegirl yet. More horny lesbians stepped forward to have their way with her and soon, she was slung over a bench with her legs above her head, being molested from both ends. One woman sat on her face and another positioned herself so that she could grind her snatch against Stephanie's. Throughout, greedy fingers and hands and mouths danced across her body, finding her most sensitive parts.

Then Stephanie was on the wet floor again, being made to "chase pussy" as the women called it. They stood around her, making her eat one of them out, then when Bernie yelled "CHANGE!" Stephanie had to crawl as fast as she could to a perform the act on another woman. Adding to the fun, some of the players twisted up wet towels and began whipping Stephanie's ass as she scrambled from one cunt to the next.

When that game ran its course, someone picked up the mop again and had two of the girls pin Stephanie's hands down. The squad wanted to keep pushing her limits and as they held her down, a chant echoed through the tiled walls of the complex.

"Up the ass! Up the ass! Up the ass!"

Stephanie felt the pole sinking into her asshole. The degrading assault made her pussy tingle and her nipples harden and she was soon begging to cum. Fortunately, the women were happy to help her along the way by frigging her clit and slapping her face, turning her into a raving sex-crazed puppet.

She came with a loud gasp, spraying on the floor to the sounds of her tormentors congratulating each other. Only then, when everyone had had their fill, did they make her crawl back into the shower room.

The twenty-strong squad stood around her again, glaring down on her tired naked form. Her eyes darted around them, seemingly pleading for mercy. But like Jantel had said, if she wanted mercy, she had come to the wrong locker room.

Whispers ran around the circle, players shielding their mouths and telling each other something in their friends' ears, eliciting giggles and raucous hollering. Soon, the circle had closed in tight, making Stephanie feel almost claustrophobic. There was no escape, no shred of light between their wide bodies and thick legs.

"Keep your chin up, girl," Bernie said in a low menacing tone. "We want to see your purdy face."

Then, the women pulled back on their crotches, spreading their lips. Stephanie thought they were demanding another round of cunnilingus but as she pushed her head forward to begin, the reality hit her.

Huh?...OH!...EW! EW!

She had tasted urine before thanks to being made to cleanse the Madame's snatch after visiting the toilet, but she had never had anyone relive themselves directly onto her. Her mouth had been open, ready to service, and the first jet splattered over her lips, startling her with its sudden salty warmth. The stream flew around in a haphazard pattern, covering her from head to toe. More streams followed as the other women let loose, dousing her in their golden nectar.

"Drink up, bitch! Every drop!"

Stephanie knelt in middle of the room while they hosed her, doing her best to catch as much of the piss as she could. The acrid taste and smell surrounded her at every turn. Most of the streams hit her body, soaking her tits and thighs, leaving her skin glimmering with dampness. She could feel each surge raining on her body like tiny warm fingers, seeping into her pores, each one reminding her of the filthy whore she had become.

When the cascades trickled out, she found herself pressing her lips to the wet floor, slurping up the stale liquid like a thirsty dog. Bernie's rough hand grabbed her by the back of the head and dragged her face across the tiles, mopping it up with her hair.

The women laughed as Stephanie was then sat back against the wall where they'd found her, Bernie tying her hands again to the shower lever.

"You did good, girlie. But you sure do reek!"

The shower above her came on and she felt the merciful spray of warm water washing away the pee, matting her hair down. Amused, the others showered too, praising Bernie for giving them the time of their lives. Gradually they left the room to change and Stephanie, left alone under the shower, could hear their voices echoing around the building, talking about her in crude ways and singing their team song as loudly as they could.

Bernie was the last to leave. Still smiling, she rolled the dripping slavegirl up in a blanket and dropped her in the back of her pickup. The large woman had never felt so loved by her sisters and she wondered if she could negotiate another rental from the enigmatic Madame Snyde, salivating at the prospect of another depraved weekend. If everyone on the team pitched in, maybe they could come to an agreement, she thought. The truck turned left at the gate, in the direction of the old house on the hill.


Chapter 7: Heel, Bitch
Tags: MF, mdom, dance, blowjob, anal, pet play, humiliation, exhibitionism, mind control

She stepped out of the limo, her black stilettos touching down on the driveway before the car pulled away quietly. Behind the wheel, Nina glanced into the rearview mirror just once to see the new girl approaching the door to the house, a modern building with a neatly trimmed lawn and palm trees lining the path. The sun was just setting over the rooftops of this affluent neighborhood. Nina smiled to herself, lowered the chauffeur's cap and turned off the street for the intersection.

The man who answered the door was around 40. He was slender, very well dressed in a casual silk shirt and pressed slacks and he sported a thin moustache.

"Mister Paulin?" Stephanie said.

"Yes. Please come in."

His voice had the faint hint of a European accent. He politely showed her through to his home, which was immaculate and newly decorated with luxury furniture. Ambient lighting from designer lamps gave the place an air of warm sophistication. She placed her clutch bag on one of the polished tables and soaked in her surroundings.

"I have expensive tastes," he said, noticing her intrigued glances. "Would you like a drink?"

"Um...yes, please."

He disappeared into the kitchen and she heard him pop a cork. Moments later, he returned with two glasses of fizzing champagne. She thanked him as she took one and glanced out the window at the light fading outside. He talked to her for a while about his home and the things he had bought recently and where he'd got them. For the most part, she listened and nodded, not interrupting but occasionally pressing him for more details, which he happily gave. He talked comfortably as though this wasn't the first time they'd met. If she was less comfortable, she didn't show it.

"May I say," he said, standing closer to her, "you look absolutely beautiful. I'm very pleased."

He wasn't wrong. Stephanie had dressed to the height of elegance. Her thick burgundy hair was pinned up, leaving just a few curls rolling around the sides of her face, which was neatly made-up with eye shadow and natural-looking powder. Her sophisticated midnight blue gown was a slinky classic number that held perfectly to her frame and thanks to a slit up the side of one leg, gave just the glimpse of skin beneath. She wore it with a dark feather boa and matching silk elbow gloves and of course, a diamond necklace with matching earrings.

"Thank you, Mister Paulin."

She took another sip and he pressed a finger to the bottom of the glass, encouraging her to take another mouthful before he gently took it from her.

"I understand you've come prepared?" he said.

"Yes..."

He walked over to an armchair and sat down. Relaxed, he waited for her to move. In the shadows, a tiny red light blinked behind his chair and the glint of a camera lens reflected in the lamplight. It was time.

She opened up the clutch to take the iPod out and plugged it into the top of the line stereo system nearby. Lining up the track, she made sure the speakers were around a medium level, then pressed play. With a deep breath, she walked to the center of the room, standing before him on his imported Nepalese rug. He said nothing and did nothing. Nothing but wait. And watch.

The speakers hummed and the sound of violins began to play. Her hands moved to her waist and she ran them slowly down her thighs. Then the violins switched to a rhythmic beat and a male voice broke out in a gangster rap over the top.

'Girl you workin with some ass yeah, you bad yeah


Make a nigga spend his cash yeah, his last yeah'

Stephanie moved to the rhythm, swaying her hips and running her hands back up her waist. She turned as she danced, her stomach curving in seductively and her head turning from side to side, writhing in the beat.

'Got money I can flash yeah, and trash yeah


I'ma Big Tymer nigga yeah, pull the trigger yeah


A playa hata flipper yeah, grave filla yeah'

She whipped the boa off and let it fall to the floor, revealing her fair shoulders. Still twisting her body, she then slipped one of the shoulder straps down. Then the other. Her dress stayed up with the help of her arm pressed casually across her chest. He watched as she continued to perform her exaggerated movements, coiling her torso in circles.

'You claimin you want a picture, that ain't shit yeah

The nigga with the money yeah, don't act funny yeah'

Then she let the dress slip, down to her ribcage where it hung loose. But her hands cupped her breasts, protecting her modesty for the time being. She twirled and shuffled until the gown fell further to her navel, her toned abdomen coming into focus. Then she raised her arms up above her, letting her small white globes fall free, their pert pink nipples standing on end, moving with the beat.

Paulin stirred, shifting subtly in his chair and taking a short sip from his glass. Stephanie turned, letting him gaze on her alabaster back as she rocked her hips, then she turned back to him and the dress fell all the way to the floor, leaving her in a black T-string thong, cut so petite that he could see the shaven edges of her crotch.

The redhead used her gloved hands to roam her own body, kneading her tits and caressing her neck before sliding one hand between her legs and gently stroking her intimate area. Biting her lip, she began to move more forcefully, crouching low and then straightening up, making her hips work hard as they popped from one side to the other. Then she bit on the index finger of one of the gloves, peeling it off clean and tossing it to the side. The other one followed and flew across the room. She didn't seem to care where it landed and nor did he.

Her fingers then slid into the waistband of the thong, pulling it away from her skin and teasing it down before letting it snap back into place. Paulin breathed heavily, still waiting. She took the waistband again and pulled upwards, pressing it into the fold of her pussy lips, making him know just how thin the piece of fabric was. Then she turned her back to him again, showing him the thong riding up the crack of her ass. She circled her hips a few times and bent over, sliding the thong down with her. When it hit the floor, she clasped it in her fingers and turned to face him, giving him an unhindered view of her hairless slit.

'Make a nigga wanna grab that, autograph that


I'm sweatin in the drawers yeah, hard and long yeah'

She held the thong in her teeth as she grinded her body for him, only her high-heeled shoes and high-end jewelry keeping her from full nudity. She then took the fabric and swung it between her legs, pulling it back and forth, flossing her cunt shamelessly. She threw the thong to him and he caught it with a tight fist, holding it to his face for a second. Damp, he thought.

The girl continued to work it like a pro, dropping to her haunches and spreading her knees, flashing him her pink hole. Her hand moved between her legs again, openly rubbing her clit as she threw her head back and writhed to the music. She leaned back and spread her legs out straight, sinking her fingers inside her, giving him a taste of what it would be like.

Then she stood up, turning again and squatting lewdly. She bounced her ass up and down, twerking her cheeks. Paulin adjusted himself again, moving his own hand to his crotch and gently massaging his growing manhood.

'Girl, you looks good, won't you back that azz up


You'se a fine motherfucker, won't you back that azz up


Call me Big Daddy when you back that azz up


Ho, who is you playin wit? Back that azz up'

Stephanie dropped to her knees on the soft rug and pushed her butt out further, grinding her belly down to the floor and back up. Her ass cheeks wiggled from side to side and she reached back, spreading them apart and running a finger along the crack. She looked around, locking her eyes again on his. The tip of the finger toyed with her winking asshole, circling it slowly. Her eyelids fluttered. Then the finger sunk inside, little by little, until she was in up to the knuckle, moving it in and out. She finger fucked her ass for a while as he watched and stroked the length of his stone hard cock. When she finally withdrew it, she slipped it very deliberately into her mouth, sucking on it hard. He almost blew his load right there in his Armani slacks but...somehow...he hung on.

As the song came to a close, Stephanie stood up and walked back to the table. She removed her diamond necklace and dropped it into the clutch bag, then pulled out the pink dog collar given to her by her mistress. She fastened it snugly around her neck where the jewelry had been. Lowering herself once more to her hands and knees, the chain on the front of the collar dragged on the carpet as she very slowly crawled across the room to where Paulin sat.

"I'm your obedient fuck pet, master. Yours to command," she said, kneeling at his feet and holding the leash out in offering.

Paulin took it, winding the chain around his knuckles. "Kiss my feet."

Stephanie bent her head to his loafers and did as he ordered, demonstrating her submissiveness. He admired her naked body as she bowed before him and peppered his feet with kisses. His erection was visible beneath his pants and so he stood, tugging on the leash as he walked to an adjacent bedroom with the girl crawling behind him.

The shoes, along with the silk shirt and slacks, were discarded quickly. Paulin was desperate to have her now. He had waited long enough.

"Sit," he said, testing her compliance. She raised her head up, resting back on her knees, her hands folding behind her back. Impressive. "Lick."

She pressed her face to his silk boxers, feeling his hardness beneath the fabric. Her mouth explored its shape and she gingerly licked at the underwear, tantalizing the engorged meat hidden behind the thin material.

Pleased, he finally lowered the boxers, allowing his cock to jump free. It was an average size but Stephanie suddenly realized that this was the first real penis presented to her since the start of her servitude. Unlike the Madame's plastic toys and strap-ons, the one in front of her was throbbing and alive. It had been weeks, maybe months, since she'd had a male lover, and her momentary service to David barely counted. She had dreamed of escaping the bonds of forced lesbianism for so long but she never thought it would happen like this. Paulin jerked the chain and she pressed her tongue to it.

Her wet mouth felt good on his skin and his dick twitched as she lapped the underside of it from base to tip and back again. He tasted sweet and smelled faintly of cologne. It was a small mercy that he was at least clean on the outside. She prodded and probed his rigid manhood, kissing and lapping at it fervently, getting herself slowly used to its flavor.

Paulin lifted his cock up, giving her access to his balls, which were clearly tightening. She nuzzled on them as he began to stroke himself. The taste was muskier. Still, she could only do what pleased him and her mouth sucked at the wrinkled sack, sucking each nut into her mouth on its own and then devouring both at once. He seemed to enjoy tea-bagging her and his strokes quickened.

Tugging on the leash, he then shuffled a few inches further forward, standing over her so that her head was pushed back. The collar strained at her neck and she let herself slip further underneath him until her nose was pressed into his dark pubic hair and her tongue was licking his taint.

"You will come to learn that this is your rightful place," he said softly, still pumping his prick with one hand. The sight of her beautiful blue eyes looking up made him start to ache and he decided he was done being gentle. He grabbed the back of her head with his other hand, holding her face firmly into his under carriage until she gasped for air. Then he did it again, rubbing his balls aggressively over her carefully beautified face, until he stepped back and rammed his cock into her open mouth.

Stephanie sucked like she had trained to suck, hands-free with long, deep mouthfuls, taking the full six inches into her throat and back. Her gaze remained fixed up at him like a good little servant and he groaned with pleasure as he pounded his hips against her bobbing head. He fucked her face like it was a warm desperate pussy, giving no thought to her chokes and splutters and making her eyes water with his constant slamming. Saliva coated every inch of it, dripping in a ribbon to the floor as she gurgled and moaned.

Suddenly he pulled away, leaving a thread of spit hanging from the tip of his cock to her mouth. He balled his fist around the chain, twisted the collar around her neck and pulling her harshly over to the bed, making her scramble up onto the Egyptian cotton spread. He followed her onto the mattress, keeping her at the end of the leash on all fours. With a short tug of the chain, she lifted her head back and arched her back, pointing her ass out invitingly.

His stiff cock pressed roughly against her pussy lips and she gasped as he used the tip to open her quickly and push his way in. Her cunt trembled as she felt him slide deep within her, juddering with unwanted excitement at the careless audacity with which he was making her his slut. Utterly helpless, she spread her legs apart and let him fuck her like a whore. Paulin pulled on the chain and drove into her over and over, grunting like a wild man and pawing her naked body with his free hand. He smacked her ass and pulled the chain back hard, making her yelp between her short, heavy moans.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Yes! Yes! YES! UH! UH! UH! UH! UH!..."

His hand came down on her backside again. "No talking! You're nothing but a dog. Bark like a dog!"

The collar felt tight around her throat and her brow creased, not wanting to be brought down another level. But she had to obey.

"ARF! ARF! RUFF!" she cried out, submitting to his humiliating order. Her head turned to the side to ease the pressure on her neck and she saw herself in his vanity mirror. Her cheeks blushed as she watched him hammering her from behind, her ass bouncing back and forth while she continued to bark for him like a bitch in heat. It was like having an outer body experience. But the shame was as real as anything.

Paulin slid out and noticed how wet she was between her legs. His rod was slick and he was feeling less and less friction on her cunt walls. With a smirk, he got up on his feet and squatted behind her, aiming the purple head of his cock at her other vulnerable opening. She squirmed as he pushed heavily against her tiny brown eye. The natural lubrication of her juices worked against her, making it easier for him to squeeze inside and soon he had eased his head past her tight muscles. He pushed harder, ignoring her whimpering sounds. Finally, he was balls deep inside her butt, gliding in and out at a steady rhythm and enjoying the taut grip her anal passage had around his dick.

Stephanie whined. Until that point, no man had ever entered her there. She had never let them, having always refused to give up her anal virginity in the proud notion that it was somehow beneath her. Of course, she had always experimented on herself in playful ways. And of course, her secret sanctity had been destroyed within 24 hours of waking up in Madame Snyde's house. But this was the first man to ever do it. She had always wondered if she would ever give in, maybe to a long-term boyfriend or husband. She never could have imagined it like this. Being fucked on the end of a leash by a perverted stranger.

"ARF! ARF! ARRRRFFFF!"

His cock felt like a hot spear prying her apart and the dull pain was resonating through her body in intense bursts of sexual stimulation, popping through every cell of her being like fireworks. Her mind floated away into a twisted paradise and she thought she could see stars. For a few seconds her senses went into an ecstatic overload, releasing her from fear and anxiety and dropping her into a pool of pure pleasure. Her body shook and writhed as she climaxed.

Paulin bellowed, feeling her asshole tighten even more around his straining prick. Quickly, he pulled out and finished himself off with his free hand. Stephanie felt the warm splashes land on her back and dribble over her buttocks. He had reduced her to just a cum mat, there to keep his sheets clean, and the indignity of her evening made her close her eyes and drop her head onto the mattress.

She could have stayed there but Paulin didn't let her. After thoroughly draining his balls, he pulled her again by her leash and guided her face back to his dripping cock.

"Clean it," he snarled, thrusting it into her mouth once more. Stephanie used her tongue to cleanse him of her own juices and grimaced as she did so, tasting the unmistakable tang of her own ass.

Finally, he made her lie face down on the carpet next to the bed. Then he tied the end of the leash to one of the bed posts.

"You sleep here," he said. "Don't let the cum drip onto my carpet, whore, or in future I'll make you sleep in the yard."

She spread out, lying still on her front. She stayed there for the night until his sperm dried on her skin. After a few hours, she curled up into a ball while he slept with a smile on his face on the comfortable king sized bed. She was his obedient fuck pet. His to command. And as a result of his deal with his old friend Madame Snyde, she was to remain that way for the next four weeks.

Things didn't get any easier during her stay with Paulin. Like Madame Snyde, the man seemed intent on humiliating her as much as possible and spending those weeks acting as his pet was somehow even worse than being Snyde's maid.

Stephanie was treated like a dog. Instead of walking, she was only permitted to crawl. Instead of talking, she was only permitted to bark. She remained naked at all times except for the infernal pink collar. Paulin took great pleasure in making her perform tricks for his amusement and seemed especially pleased to make her beg for both her needs and his.

Food and water was served to her in a dog dish which she had to consume without the use of her hands, crouching on the floor while he dined at the table, occasionally dropping scraps his into her bowl. The food was at least tasty and nutritious but that didn't stop him from sometimes threatening to switch her diet for real dog food, laughing at his own suggestion as he plucked delicacies from a silver fork.

Several times a day he would take her on her leash for "walkies" in his back yard, making her crawl behind him as he took in the air and admired his plants. Just like an animal, Stephanie would be made to do her business on the lawn under his watchful eye. Already feeling totally dehumanized, she would then be made to clean herself by dragging her ass along the grass. When she required more thorough cleaning, he took out the hose and showered her with cold water. Sometimes he would do this just to punish her.

And punishment was always a possibility. Although she went to every length to obey him, he would sometimes decide that she had committed some minor infraction. Dripping water on the floor. Not begging "enthusiastically enough". It didn't matter to him what it was, he would always find something to exploit. These transgressions were dealt with in various ways but most common was having her ass beaten with a rolled up newspaper until she was yelping with soreness and begging his forgiveness by licking his feet submissively.

On the end of his leash, she was available to pleasure at all times and Paulin made full use every day of her mouth, pussy and ass. Her holes were his to dip into whenever he wished. She became used to his cock. Its feel. Its smell. Its taste. He was the alpha male and she was his bitch. The wrench of the collar on her throat became second nature, guiding her to undertake any position he wanted.

While confined to the floors of his house, she noticed several mini camera lenses half hidden throughout the rooms. Whether he was paranoid about security, distrusting of her obedience or simply intent on capturing her actions on film, Stephanie not only felt subjugated but also under constant surveillance.

Of course, there were times when Paulin wanted to go out to meet friends or business acquaintances and instead of leaving her chained to his bedpost, he would sometimes have her join him. Naturally, he couldn't take her out naked and on all fours, so these were the only times when she was granted permission to return to her more human sensibilities. He ordered the finest clothes in her size, making sure she looked every inch the gorgeous woman he felt would suit his image. Her collar was replaced with a discreet silver choker, symbolic of her role. And in public, she would only speak when asked to, addressing him as "sweetie" or "darling" or whatever other affectionate nickname a trophy girlfriend may have for her sugar daddy.

Not that his efforts to embarrass her stopped when they went out. Even in her fashionable and well-groomed get-up, she would be the subject of torment for his warped sense of humor.

At a restaurant, he would decide on her courses and order for her. Then throughout the meal he would make her do subtle, almost undetectable acts, from stroking his cock with her foot under the table or fingering herself while the waiter discussed the specials.

One time, he spotted a man at another table staring at her and decided to have some fun, whispering into her ear the rules of his little game of the moment. When the other man got up to go to the men's room, Stephanie left the table and slipped in after him. Less than five minutes later, Stephanie returned to the table and Paulin was amused to see the man emerge from the restroom a minute later looking disheveled. As the stranger slipped back into his seat, taking a large glug of wine, Paulin turned to Stephanie and simply told her to "show me." Her mouth opened and she showed him the pool of fresh cum balancing on her tongue. Satisfied with the evidence, he allowed her to swallow.

Then there was the time he took her to the beach. For this adventure, she left her summer dress in the car and wandered out onto the sand in just her swimsuit. The twist was that the swimsuit was a sling thong bikini, consisting of merely a single thin piece of fabric that looped from her shoulders, down over her nipples, under her crotch and extended back up between buttocks. It left almost nothing to the imagination and the entire beach seemed to double take as she walked by.

As instructed, Stephanie found a group of young guys playing frisbee to join in with and her body left them salivating. Some of the men had to literally leave the game and go into the water for a while or sit in the sand and cover themselves with a towel. Everyone in the vicinity was staring at her. Families with children hurried them away while old men lingered.

For once, Stephanie would have had a fun day out in the sun if it wasn't for the embarrassingly slutty swimsuit. When she asked for help applying sunscreen, there was a race of eager helpers all vying to lather her up. The lucky ones took their time, making sure they got every inch of her bare skin. As for Paulin, he watched from a nearby beach bar, sharing cocktails with two attractive women and listening to people spread the word of the "desperate bimbo" flaunting herself in the surf. Stephanie received many indecent propositions that afternoon and took home a faint all-body tan line to remind her of the day.

After four weeks, there came the day that Paulin presented her with a brand new gown and told her to dress. But they weren't to be going out that night. He was to have company. It had been too long since his last dinner party.

The guests arrived at 7 PM. When Stephanie opened the door for them, she greeted them politely but without a smile. Her cold demeanor was respectful. Demure. And her elegance dazzled them as much as her bright pearl earrings. Her red crystal dust evening dress was stunning and she walked with the grace of a runway model as she led them into the house.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please follow me."

The two couples who had arrived for dinner were the cream of high society. One graying man in his fifties was a property magnate and his somewhat plain looking wife was the speaker of the city council. Joining them was a media baron, a refined white-haired man with a partner in tow forty years his junior. She was a twenty year old blonde he had met at a gala, beautiful but a little dim. Still, like the other women, she was dressed lavishly, matching the men in their hand tailored suits.

"Ah! My friends! Thank you so much for coming!" Paulin exclaimed, ever the gracious host.

"Delighted to be here," said the gray haired man, handing Paulin a small gift. "A fine place you have."

Stephanie took their coats and then, when they were seated, poured the merlot for everyone. Paulin and the guests were soon seated and chatting about their respective lives. The property man had a new home in the hills that Paulin simply must come and visit soon. The city councilor was dealing with all manner of new laws and meetings. The media owner had a new yacht being delivered in just a week's time and couldn't wait to get out on the ocean. His girlfriend was looking forward to letting him drive while she sunbathed on the deck. Throughout, Stephanie sat on the end of a sofa, listening silently and nodding at their gratuitous boasts. She was reminded of her first day at the house and that feeling of what was to come behind the artificial formalities. Thirty minutes in, Stephanie stood up.

"Would you excuse me for a moment? I must go and change."

"Change?" The white-haired man asked, smiling at her. "But my dear, you look perfect as you are. There's no need..."

Paulin held up his hand. "No that's ok. Dinner will be ready soon and she will prefer to be in something more comfortable. Go ahead, Stephanie."

She sauntered away into a bedroom down the hall. Perplexed, the guests went back to their conversation, letting the wine loosen them up. Meanwhile, Stephanie was to return as soon as she could and in the bedroom, placed herself in front of the vanity mirror and slipped out of her new dress. She was ready in under three minutes.

The people in the living room were in the middle of discussing where best to vacation in the spring when they heard a tinkling sound. They stopped and turned to the hall entrance as Stephanie emerged and then fell silent at what they saw. She returned on all fours, crawling across the carpet as she had become used to these past few weeks. The dress was gone and all she had left of her stylish outfit were her black thigh-high stockings and pumps, exposing her naked body to the room. Her luxurious jewelry had been once again replaced with the pink dog collar and two tiny silver bells clipped to her dangling nipples, the source of the jingling. Most noticeable of all was the addition of a tail, a black rubber imitation curving up from behind her and waving from side to side as she crept across the rug towards them.

"Ah! Here she is," Paulin said casually.

Not content with humiliating her in private, he had arranged for an audience. They watched quietly as the scene unfolded but Stephanie soon noticed that they did not react in shock, only curiosity. Clearly, they had been prepared for this sort of entertainment and had perhaps even taken part in one of his debauched evenings in the past. The only exception was the blonde woman, who sat with her eyes transfixed, almost spilling her wine.

"ARF!"

Paulin stood and pulled out the familiar leash from his blazer pocket, hooking it to the front of the collar. "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope none of you are allergic to dogs."

Stephanie's face flushed with embarrassment. The councilwoman nodded, and relaxed smiles were already creeping across the men's faces. The blonde hesitated, then laughed nervously, not knowing what to expect.

"Sit," he said. Stephanie reared back on her knees and sat obediently with her back straight and her chest out. "Isn't she adorable with her little bells?"

His red-haired 'pet' then shook her breasts to demonstrate. The guests approved, grinning now at the game he was playing with her and gladly taking part.

"Present," he commanded, tugging the leash. Stephanie dropped again to her hands and turned in a half circle. Her face lowered to the carpet and she raised her ass in the air, spreading her legs. The four strangers could see that the tail had been plugged into her ass. Underneath it, her pink pussy lips quivered enticingly. "Who's a good girl?"

Still blushing deeply, Stephanie wiggled her butt in response, making the tail wag. The blonde almost spat out her drink and the others did a bad job of suppressing their laughter. They couldn't believe Paulin had been able to acquire such a subservient plaything for their entertainment.

"Walk," he continued, holding the chain firmly in his fist as Stephanie began to crawl. He led her around the outside of the rug, exhibiting his control with the simplest of words. The smooth curves of her bare body were exciting the men, who were now wringing their hands in satisfaction, immensely admiring the display.

"Heel." They stopped in the middle of the rug and Paulin reached back into his blazer, this time retrieving a small rubber dildo. Holding it out in front of him at chest height, his eyes flashed wickedly. "You want your bone, princess? Beg!"

"RUFF! RUFF!"

Stephanie raised herself to a squatting position and curled her hands out in front of her in a typical 'begging' pose. Then she strained her neck up, reaching for the dildo with her mouth and letting her tongue loll out. She panted like an animal, pleading for him to let her have it, to let her taste it just for a moment. He refused to lower his arm, instead watching her with amusement as she hopped about on her haunches, debasing herself for a plastic cock. The guests were also thoroughly pleased. Both men had their legs crossed, hiding their own stiffening pricks.

Paulin dropped the chain and tossed the dildo across the room. As it landed on the floor, Stephanie was already scrambling across the carpet to get to it, clamping her teeth into it and hurrying back to give the toy to her master. Again he flicked it across the room, making her play fetch, watching as she stuck her delicious ass out each time she secured the phallus in her mouth.

"She's very obedient," said the property magnate, loosening his tie. "Did she take long to train?"

"Not at all," Paulin replied. "She came to me fully disciplined and all I had to do was make a few rules. If you're interested, I may be able to put you in touch with her regular owner." The gray-haired man stroked his chin, agreeing that he may be interested, a notion that his wife seemed to support.

"Is she housebroken?" asked the media tycoon, nudging his date gently with a smile and watching Stephanie drop the dildo back into Paulin's waiting palm.

"Of course. She'll scratch at the door when she needs to be let out."

"What about fleas?"

Paulin laughed. "No fleas. She can be VERY dirty but I always make sure she gets hosed down...in a manner of speaking."

"I like her shiny hair," said the blonde, now eager to involve herself. "It's pretty."

"Well, I make sure she eats well. You know...a diet rich in protein." He grinned, placing the dildo back in his pocket. "Speaking of which, are you all hungry? I do believe dinner is ready to be served." The guests headed for the dining room and Paulin glared at his pet, making sure she waited for them to lead before she crawled into the room to join them.

There were only five places prepared. Naturally, Stephanie was not to dine at the table, as she never had been, but rather she remained without a sound on the floor as they enjoyed their fine cuisine and patiently waited for the odd scrap of food to be dropped to the hardwood, which she would wolf down with enthusiasm until every morsel and smear disappeared. Despite her unusual presence, the conversation at the table turned back to normal, ignoring her almost completely. The sun went down and the wine followed, creating a relaxed mood among the social highflyers.

When desert came, Paulin poured the last of the second bottle of merlot into the glass of the gray-haired man, who was tipsy and recounting a joke he'd overheard at the country club.

"All out?" asked the man, interrupting his story and peering at the empty bottle like it had just insulted him.

"Not at all," Paulin replied, grabbing another bottle from the rack. "But perhaps something else as well to help it along?" He snapped open a wooden box and passed it around. The three men lit up a Cuban cigar each while the women declined, content instead to tuck into their crème brulee.

"Yes, this should do the trick," said the property man, inhaling the smoke.

"Indeed, but that's not what I was referring to..." Paulin glanced down at Stephanie. "Bitch, relax my friend."

She crawled under the table, needing no further explanation. The gray-haired man coughed suddenly, feeling hands on his pants and his flies being undone. He looked over at Paulin with a delighted look about him and the host winked back. Then he felt her mouth on his flaccid cock, her warm wet tongue lapping at it impatiently. The man's wife smirked, not needing to look under the table to see what was happening but content to let it proceed all the same.

He hardened quickly, growing in the girl's mouth as she seemed to savor the taste of him with the same appreciation he afforded the cigar. He struggled to return his attention to his story but this latest development was distracting. "And so he said...ahem...he said you have to play the ball where it lies...and then the other...the other player...he...oh...oh...ahhhh....ahhhh...."

Stephanie sucked him hard, pounding her head up and down on his now firm appendage as it strained through the opening in his pants. His eyes rolled back and he was reduced to breathing heavily. The story ended abruptly and they never did he hear the ending. What they heard instead was the sound of slurping over their stilted conversation for the next few minutes until with a sudden shiver, the man emptied his balls into Stephanie's mouth. She kept her lips wrapped around his cock until he finished, catching every spurt of his cum in her throat and guzzling it down. Her own very special dessert.

"Perhaps I could interest you as well, my dear?" Paulin said, turning to the young blonde woman.

"Oh! No...I don't...well..." she stammered.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Live a little." Her old lover gave her a reassuring look and puffed a ring of smoke.

"Well...ok? I guess? Like, sure."

Stephanie heard the discussion and turned around, pressing her hands gently on the woman's thighs. The young woman spread her knees slowly and soon felt the soft tip of the redhead slave's tongue circling her clit through her panties. Like the last participant, it wasn't long before she was moaning quietly in her own little world as the conversation continued without her, punctured every once in a while by a high-pitched sigh of pleasure from deep within the woman's throat. Stephanie pried the panties to the side and licked like a thirsty puppy. It wasn't long before the woman shuddered, grabbing the tablecloth, letting herself be taken over the edge.

Both the media man and the councilwoman sampled the added delicacy on offer that night, making Stephanie work her mouth hard to properly unwind them. The older woman took longer to finish off, but once she did, she felt like she had achieved another step to freedom from beneath the table and did all she could to bring the other man off as fast as possible. In under two minutes, she took his load in her mouth as before, swallowing without complaint.

Left tasting a bitter combination not unlike salt and lemonade, Stephanie remembered her own dog and how he would beg for scraps. She remembered her old apartment...her old life. But that life seemed so far away now. Like a speck of light disappearing at the end of a long dark tunnel that only grew longer. That old life was now beginning to feel like a wonderful dream, one she'd had before she woke up in this real world...

Paulin patted her on the head, picking up the leash with an unforgiving gleam in his eye. "Good girl. But the night is still young and our guests deserve some entertainment after their meal."

"Arf!" Stephanie responded automatically, wagging her rubber tail as raucous laughter rang in her ears.

Returning to the living room for a night cap, the group of privileged men and women reclined on the sofas, half dazed from the rich meal and their exclusive final course. Stephanie sat on the rug before them, allowing the councilwoman to pet her head and stroke her burgundy locks while they waited for Paulin. The man of the hour had asked them to enjoy themselves as he went to fetch something from the summer house. A surprise, he said. For everyone.

When he slid back the glass door, a hush fell through the room. They all heard it. The sound of a bark. But not of Stephanie's womanly imitation. A real bark.

His footsteps were followed by a hard scratching sound and then the soft pitter-patter of the animal's paws. Stephanie looked around and came face-to-face with an old friend.

MOXIE! Oh my god! It's you!...I never thought I'd...Wait...what...?

The Labrador barked again, straining at the leash by which Paulin held him and panting in glee. He had straightened up in Stephanie's direction, his ears raised and his gaze fixed on rejoining his former owner. Stephanie's joy at seeing her beloved pooch was slowly disappearing as she contemplated how and why the vindictive pervert had her dog in his possession. She remained still. Waiting. Pushing bad thoughts to the back of her mind.

Look on the bright side. Moxie's safe. You thought he was gone forever but he's here and he's safe. He's been well looked after. Don't think about anything else...

Paulin smiled as the dog scrabbled around, thrilled to see so many people after a lonely evening on its own. "Easy, boy!"

"Another one?" said the man with gray hair. "Anyone would think you were running a pound!" They all laughed and watched Paulin calm the dog by stroking his chocolate brown fur tenderly.

More gentle than he's ever been with me, thought Stephanie, only to immediately feel foolish for having that strange pang of envy.

"My new mutt..." Paulin said, his voice despondent. "He's a little sad."

"Sad?!" asked the blonde, genuinely concerned. "Why?"

"Well...he's been outside all day and he doesn't get much of a chance to go to the park or chase the mailman or play with the other dogs in the neighborhood. "

"Oh," said the young woman, her expression turning to pity.

"I suppose the real problem is that he's lonely. After all, he's in the peak of his fitness, he should be out in the fields, rolling around, doing...whatever it is dogs do..." Paulin looked up suddenly, raising a finger in the air. "But wait! I know! Yes! Of course! I know what would make my new dog a happy dog!" The guests were on the edges of their seats, wondering where this bizarre train of thought was leading. "It's so simple, really! Why he just needs what any of us need when we're lonely! He needs...companionship! He needs...He needs a mate!"

He swiveled to look at Stephanie, staring into her fearful blue eyes. Like the blonde, her expression had turned to pity too, only hers was self pity. The two couples looked at each other as realization dawned for them in unison.

You can't be serious.

Paulin pointed to the middle of the rug, commanding her to crawl to it. She moved, cautious but obedient.

He can't be serious. He can't be!

The ever gracious host brought the dog around to face her at eye level and Moxie began to lick her lovingly on the nose.

"Oh look! A perfect match. I knew they'd hit it off." Paulin raised titters from his friends, enjoying the show. Then he crouched, whispering into Stephanie's ear. Whatever he said to her made her grimace and the guests shuffled anxiously in their seats. The redhead dropped low to the floor and began to root around underneath the dog's legs, making him scramble around, until she found the furry shaft beneath. With one hand, she grasped it firmly, controlling the Labrador and settling him into place. Her fingers squeezed and caressed, moving further back to do the same to the beast's fuzzy scrotum. Moxie let out an inquisitive whimper, wondering what was happening. But soon it became clear. A red-purple head began to extend from his fur like a fresh lipstick.

Still grimacing, the strangers watched as the slavegirl shimmied along the rug on her belly and looked directly at the dog's slender cock. Then, with a deep breath, she clamped her lips around it and began to give the animal a sensual blowjob.

"No way!" the blonde shrieked. "Oh my god! She's actually doing it!"

The others said nothing. Not moving, they peered down on the debauchery, pleased with themselves that they held the power to make another human being degrade herself to such extremes. The beautiful, naked young woman sucked the dog's slimy cock like she was desperate for it while Moxie flitted from side to side, aroused but full of adrenaline and eager to take charge.

After a minute, Paulin dragged the dog away and wandered over to sit in one of his suede armchairs, still holding onto Moxie's leash. He paused for a moment, running his fingers over his moustache. "Present."

The distress on Stephanie's pretty face was evident as she spread her knees out and lowered her head to the floor, laying her cheek against the soft fibers. All eyes were on her. Fascinated. Impatient.

Paulin bent down and unhooked the leash from Moxie's collar. Almost immediately, the dog bounded across the room towards the other 'pet', licking her again and circling her in frenzied excitement. But then it stopped, wagging its tail as it sniffed. Curious, it began to sniff at her warm open snatch. Stephanie could feel the animal's breath on her bare thighs and gritted her teeth. It lapped at her pussy, tasting her juices, and then with a bark, it clambered up on its front legs, scratching and pulling at her stockings as it tried to climb.

Moxie found his way up, his engorged penis now flopping between his hind legs. Leaning against her and pushing her tail back, the dog mounted her as he would an average neighborhood bitch. His limp cock prodded and pounded aimlessly behind her until eventually it found its way home. Stephanie's fingers tightened against the rug and she let out a moan as her formerly loyal pet sank his animal prick inside her. It felt not unlike a human penis, except thin and oily, and the dog's heavy panting and aggressive humping was distinctly beastly. She had to support the dog's weight on her back as it fucked her like one of its own.

"Go on, boy! That's it!" Paulin called out. "Give your lover what she needs!"

The host and his friends gasped and laughed as the dog had its way with the girl. She moaned and grunted beneath the assault, her stunning body reduced to an object for the mutt's pleasure. Moxie humped away unconcerned, dominating his new mate for several minutes. She felt his cock growing inside her, the base of it engorged and heavy against her vaginal walls. Then she felt one of his hind legs fumble over her back. As it did, they became entangled at the rear, pressed together end to end.

Paulin clapped. "How romantic! It's like they were meant for each other."

The dog continued to scrabble about at a frantic rate, its tongue lolling from its mouth in an expression of happy fulfillment. Stephanie groaned as she felt the dog's furry backside against her own and the greasy appendage joining them together, the unfathomable debasement carved heavily into her features. Eventually, her eyes opened wide and she let out a gasp.

EEEEW! NO, MOXIE! NO!

Moments later, she felt the cock throb and a surge of liquid fill her insides. The guests sensed the result and cheered.

"And there it is!" the host said, happily. "I wonder if we should expect puppies."

Stephanie's reddened face was a picture of distress. The revolting feeling of the animal's lukewarm semen sloshing inside her was devastating. Finished with his conquest, Moxie moved to part with her but the thick knot of his cock was still swollen and he couldn't disengage. The two lovers pulled unsuccessfully, only to spring back against each other.

"Look! She doesn't want to let go. What a slut!" Paulin chuckled and the guests seemed hugely entertained to watch beast and woman struggle to free themselves.

With their uncontrollable laughter ringing in her ears, Stephanie's head sank back to the floor, shamed beyond imagination and feeling like no amount of showers would ever make her feel clean again. It was to be the last time she saw Moxie. Paulin eventually led him back to the yard and his happy barks disappeared into the distance. Other than the welcome feeling of the water hose both on her body and in her body, she couldn't remember much after that evening until her time with Paulin ended the following day. For once, the decadent inner sanctum of the old house on the hill felt comforting and safe. If only for a short time.


Chapter 8: Ghetto Slut
Tags: MMMF, mdom, interracial, group, blowjob, anal, dirty talk, prostitution

Police sirens wailed in the distance. The row of brownstone houses were dilapidated. Boarded up windows. Trash cans spilling onto the pavement. Graffiti everywhere. The limousine didn't belong in this neighborhood and so it pulled away quickly, leaving Stephanie standing alone outside the rundown address. Sunken eyes glared at her from across the street, wondering who she was and where she got that expensive looking fur coat. Stephanie didn't stick around to tell them.

The inside of the building was just as neglected but the door was open and so Stephanie entered. The sound of her heels on the rotting floorboards reverberated along the corridors as she took the stairs up to reach apartment 6B. Nervously, she knocked on the door.

A large black man answered it, taking one look at her and then standing aside to let her through. The man followed behind her, his body blocking the route back, until they reached the living room. Marijuana smoke wafted about her and empty malt liquor bottles were scattered on the floor. Two other men were waiting inside, splayed on a sofa in basketball jerseys and baggy jeans.

"Who the fuck are you?" said one of the men, his deep voice dripping with menace. Stephanie was uneasy but cleared her throat, remembering what she was meant to say.

"Did you boys order a half-price whore?" she said, forcing a smile.

To her horror, he reached into his pants and pulled out a revolver. He leaned forward and without a word placed it on the coffee table in front of him, the end of the barrel pointing directly at her.

Oh god. Please don't kill me.

"You damn right we did," the man replied.

Just do what he says and it'll be ok...

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her coat open and let it drop to the floor. Other than her pumps, she had come with nothing else and the men gazed at the stark naked white woman standing before them, offering herself like a prime steak to a pack of wolves. Slowly, their scowls turned to smiles.

"Not bad," observed the man with the gun, apparently the leader among them. "Jamal, you got everything you need, dog?"

"Sure, Tyrone," said the large man who had opened the door, picking up a handheld camcorder from a card table and flipping open the display screen. All three men closed in around her, hungrily staring at her soft pale flesh. The man in charge was the first to touch her, pinching one of the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it gently and letting it snap back. Stephanie gulped.

"You wanna be here, honkey ass bitch, you gotta prove you got game," he said, undoing his belt. The other men grinned and followed his lead, while their boss put his hand on the top of Stephanie's head and pushed her onto her knees. In seconds, three large black cocks flopped out around her, inches from her face. She had never even seen one before and she hesitated, astounded by their size.

"You ever suck a black dick before?" he said, as if reading her mind. Then he lifted his up and let it fall onto her face. He turned his hips from side to side, making it slap against her cheeks.

"No, sir," she replied, meekly.

"Sir?...I like that!" he said with a chuckle. "Now get to work."

She didn't need to be told what to do. Instead, she wrapped her hand around it and stroked it gently. It felt like she was holding a python, its muscular body growing in her palm and its head rising slowly. The more she stroked, the harder it became. By the time the humungous thing was pointing at her as if ready to strike, she kissed it on the tip and looked up at its owner with terrified eyes. The dark faces glowered down threateningly. She raised the cock up and flattened her tongue on its base, licking it from bottom to top.

After wetting it as much as she could, she gripped the firm shaft and opened her mouth as wide as possible, blowing him hard. Tyrone grunted, happy with the feel of her moves and he pushed forward, making the head of his cock press against the back of her throat as she moved up and down its entire length. His short curly pubes tickled her nose, letting her know when to pull back again. Soon, her head was bobbing back and forth in long quick movements.

Knowing she couldn't disappoint, she then used her free hands to seek out the other two cocks, stroking them into full arousal as she continued to suck, at one point gagging a little and having to catch her breath before sliding it back deep in her mouth. Then she switched, moving to pleasure one of the other men with her mouth and jerk off the other two like a trained professional. Each man felt her soft lips around his manhood and each felt her thin fingers rubbing against them.

"Don't forget the balls," one of the men snarled, though she was too preoccupied to tell who. Immediately, she stopped sucking and sank further down, consuming the gang member's nuts and rolling them around in her mouth hungrily. Her pretty blue eyes looked up innocently at him from either side of his engorged black member while she gobbled his sweet hanging fruit.

"Let's move this to the other room," Tyrone said, grasping Stephanie by the hair and making her scramble on her hands and knees to keep up. The room next door was sparse and just as dirty looking. A large unmade bed sat against the wall and a dry erase marker board stood in one corner, marked with several female names and numbers.

Tyrone pulled Stephanie up onto the bed and pulled his shirt off, revealing a rippling muscular torso. One of the other men followed suit, stripping his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor, while the man with the camera hung back, capturing the scene. The girl sat watching them, their powerful bodies promising to have their way with her.

After kicking off his pants, Tyrone fumbled in the pocket and retrieved his gun. Stephanie eyed it warily.

"Let's get a look at that little white pussy," he growled at her. "Open your legs."

Stephanie leaned back on the mattress and spread her legs out wide, inviting them to gaze at her shaven pink hole. The men seemed pleased with it, nodding to each other, reviewing her on her appearance.

"Yeah, that's nice and tight. Keep it open like that." Tyrone edged closer, reaching out to touch it. He wasn't surprised to find that it was trembling. Fear? Anticipation? Maybe both. He was surprised however to find that it was wet. His fingers prodded and massaged her opening and he was impressed with how willing she seemed. Then he raised the gun and pointed it directly between her legs.

Don't!

Stephanie shut her eyes and felt the cold tip of the barrel push her labia apart. The smooth metal inched inside her, sliding past her walls.

OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

Stephanie's heart hammered in her chest and a bead of sweat broke out on her forehead as the gun sank deeper into her. Tyrone began to work it in and out, watching her features contort and her body tense up as he fucked her with the weapon.

Why is he doing this? I'm doing whatever he wants!!

"Listen good, bitch. You do whatever I say and you won't get hurt. But you ever try to cross me and I'll stick this gun up your prissy white cunt and that's the last thing you'll ever see. You understand?"

Stephanie's eyes were wide open and her voice had gone up an octave. "Yes, sir! Of course! I'll do anything you want!"

Pleased, Tyrone slid the barrel out and placed the gun down on the nightstand, much to the young woman's relief. Then he climbed onto the bed next to her and pulled her on top of him. Her legs straddled his waist and she could feel his enormous cock press against her pussy.

"Tell me what you want," he sneered.

"I want to be fucked, sir."

"Then get on it, bitch. And show me how much you want it!"

She sprang to action, raising herself up and guiding him towards her entrance. Despite being wet, she felt tight as he entered and his snake-like appendage began to stretch her walls out as she lowered herself onto him. She moved slowly and carefully, trying to accommodate him without pain but Tyrone was impatient and he grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her down. His dick squeezed inside her, filling her to the hilt and she cried out in alarm.

"Aaaahhhh!"

The other men watched with delight as their friend stuffed this pretty white girl in front of them. She moved her hips against him, grinding his cock, making him loosen her up so that it wouldn't be so uncomfortable.

I can't believe I'm actually having sex with a black man. This is so disgusting! Stephanie thought to herself, momentarily forgetting her other recent experiences.

"Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Tyrone grabbed her waist and helped her bounce on his balls, working up to a steady rhythm that filled the room with the sound of constant slapping. Stephanie had never fitted a cock this big inside her and despite her fear and revulsion, her pussy continued to respond in pleasure, slicking the shaft with her juices.

"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard with your big black cock!"

Jamal zoomed in with the camera, getting the finer detail of the interracial performance. Tyrone's hands moved to Stephanie's ass and spread her cheeks apart, exposing her holes lewdly while he pounded into the nearest one, grunting and groaning as the soft friction raised him to the heights of excitement.

"Yo, Darryl! You want in on this?" Tyrone called out.

The third man was already rubbing himself to full mast and edging closer to the bed. Stephanie looked over her shoulder, seeing his beefy form hovering near.

"I've left the back door open for you, baby," she said as seductively as she could.

Darryl got on the bed, standing behind her and grabbing her ass to line himself up. Stephanie was still grappling with Tyrone's cock when she felt Darryl's pressing hard against her asshole. She gritted her teeth, wondering how she was going to fit two of them in her when she was only just managing one. Darryl seemed to think brute force was the best solution, slowly pushing his way inside centimeter by centimeter. Her ass eventually opened for him, allowing him to squeeze into her like he was fitting himself into an undersized glove.

"OHHHH FUUUUCCCKKK!" Stephanie cried out, "Yes! Stuff my holes! Use me like the whore I am!"

They intended to. Jamal's camera roamed around, recording the white girl getting double stuffed and begging for more. She was bucking wildly against both men, her delicate milky frame contrasting with their big dark bodies sandwiching her from both sides. Together, they fucked at the same fast and relentless pace.

"UHN! UHN! UHN! UHN! YES! YES! YES!" Stephanie was screaming. "That feels so good!"

Inside, Stephanie felt like she was being broken open, as if she'd never been fucked before until that moment. The two massive lengths of meat sawing her holes in unison were sending chemicals racing from her brain to her toes, raising her desires with every heavy thrust. Their cocks were practically touching each other through the thin walls of her insides and she could feel her pussy dribbling juice like it had sprung a leak.

Jamal was clearly excited by the action and decided it was time to get involved. He picked up one of the dry markers and moved to the other side of the bed, where the viewfinder of his camera captured the woman's face, moaning loudly, as well as Tyrone's, concentrating hard as he kept the momentum going from his position on the mattress. She saw him approaching, his lens waving directly at her and for a moment, he thought he saw a flash of deep shame in her crystal blue eyes.

"We like to tag new hos so they know what they are," Jamal grinned, clamping the pen lid in his teeth, popping it off and spitting it on the floor. "Look at the camera so the folks at home can see."

Stephanie held her head as still as she could as the gang member began to press the pen to her forehead. When he was done, he told her to look down and show Tyrone. The leader of the gang let out a deep, unpleasant laugh and nodded in approval.

"She sure is!" said Tyrone.

"Hey, let me have that," Darryl said, still squatting behind Stephanie and building up a sweat. Jamal passed him the marker and he began to trace it over her buttocks, chuckling to himself.

"Yo, man, be careful with that," Tyrone said, looking up to see Jamal stepping in closer, his hard cock sticking out above his field of vision.

Stephanie instinctively opened her mouth, accepting the third penis in the only hole she had left. Jamal gently rocked back and forth. Her tongue felt amazing. So soft, wet and willing. She let it protrude out and tickle the underside of his dick while she drew her cheeks in, making him groan loudly.

"Look at the camera," Jamal said. He filmed her eyelids fluttering up at him, as his cock stretched the side of her cheek. Tyrone grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard, making her body rock with an unbelievable mix of pleasure, pain and humiliation. Her nerve endings buzzed with electric desire. The gangbang made her feel like an animal, a wild deer being taken down by starving predators. And the darkness in her wanted it. She wanted their claws and their teeth. She wanted to be stripped and used.

Stephanie shook, letting the cock leave her mouth. "OHHHH MYYYY GODDDD!! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Yeah," Tyrone said, "Say hi to your daddy! Tell him his daughter's a black man's fucktoy now!"

She looked into the lens. "Hi daddy...Your daughter's a black man's fucktoy..." She swallowed the dick again, resuming her exaggerated sucking, desperately impaling herself on the three invading organs.

Jamal was having his mind blown as well as his cock. The camera shook and he realized he needed to finish before the others. He relaxed, letting the sensation overwhelm him and grabbing the back of the girl's head to speed her up. Soon, he was ready to blow and he pulled her off him, switching his grip so he could continue jerking himself off.

"Yeah, baby! Cum in my mouth! Make me taste that black jizz!" Stephanie's tongue lolled out of her mouth and she waited for him to finish himself. Jamal growled and directed the head of his prick to her open jaw. The first stream missed completely, spurting a long stream of hot cum across her face, but then he realigned, coating her tastebuds with more bursts of his seed. She let it pool on the tip of her tongue and then she swallowed it back, showing the camera it had disappeared like a filthy magic trick.

His legs were weak, but Jamal recovered himself in time to stumble back and catch the intense look on Darryl's face.

"Oh shit! I'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

"Do it! Shoot that nigger cum up my ass!"

Stephanie suddenly panicked, wondering if her unexpected use of the racial epithet was a bad move, but in the next second, she felt the throbbing cock in her rectum explode. Hot cum hosed her bowels and Darryl moaned loudly, his fingers gripping her ass cheeks hard as he finished inside her. Then he too pulled out, leaving Tyrone the last survivor.

Tyrone looked around, seeing his buddies had moved away. He bounded his hips even harder, giving the young woman the final hammer blows left in his body. She responded, launching herself up and down as hard as her exhausted legs could manage and grinding herself against him, feeling the intensity in her twat spiraling off the meter.

"Ffffuuuuckkk!" he cried.

With a roar that rattled the windows, Tyrone finally came, adding his fluids to the inner walls of Stephanie's body. Her pussy flooded with his ball slime, warming her belly and the shame of it made her cum with him. She writhed and trembled, every orifice in her body now leaking black cum.

Tyrone let himself enjoy every second of it and then, pleased with the fact that he'd lasted longest and had made the bitch cream, pushed her off him and let her fall on her ass onto the floor, coated in sweat and gasping for breath.

"Dayyum! They weren't kidding. This ho's a pro." Tyrone got to his feet, his softening cock still hanging from him like a spent horse. He snatched the pen up and moved to the marker board. "What's yo' name, bitch?"

"Stephanie, sir. Stephanie Coy."

"That's a real pretty little white girl name," he smiled, his white teeth sparkling in the light spilling in through the blinds. Then he wrote 'Stephanie' on the board along with the other names.

Jamal nodded, happy with the session and turned the camera off. "So whaddya think, T? How much you wanna charge?"

Tyrone turned back to the board and wrote a number next to her name. Jamal's face dropped.

"What? Is that a joke? Two dollars? Two fuckin' dollars a pop?"

"Have to," Tyrone muttered, "that was the deal. White bitch I spoke with made it clear."

"But T!" Darryl said, wiping his brow with his t-shirt. "A piece of ass like that could make us money, nigga. I'm talking big stack! You felt it yourself. She's prime shit!"

"No!" Tyrone yelled, making them freeze and remember the gun in his pocket. "The deal stands. If we do this right, there's a chance we get business later. Serious shit. Besides...we own her ass for a month. Between tricks, she'll be ours to use on tap, you get me? You think paper's better than pussy?"

The men thought for a moment. They had to admit, she was the best they'd had in a long time. Women like her didn't fall into their lap every day, not like that. Jamal shrugged.

"Maybe...you're right. I guess that would sorta make up for it. Yeah...that maybe wouldn't be so bad."

Darryl agreed, breaking out in a smile and looking at the girl on the floor, staring up at them anxiously. Even after being destroyed by the three of them, she was still fine as hell.

"Then it's settled. Let's get a 40, I need to call LaQuisha," Tyrone muttered, buckling his pants and nudging Stephanie with his foot. "Bitch, get yo ass up and get us somethin' to cool off."

The men wandered back into the living room and found a seat, stretching out to relax as Stephanie scrambled to her feet and headed for the kitchen. Tyrone punched in a text on his cell phone but looked up when he heard Jamal laughing. His friend was pointing at the woman, who was walking to the fridge, still naked, her gloriously sexy curves on full display. Then he saw the words scribbled in big letters on the top of her ass: 'BLACK COCK HOLE'. An arrow was drawn down to her crack, pointing to the opening Darryl had just defiled. Stephanie heard them chuckling and tried not to think about what they'd written on her, but when she got to the kitchen, a mirrored cabinet showed her face, still smeared with cum, and the ink emblazoned on her forehead that she reinterpreted the right way round to read...'CUM DUMP'.

Stephanie watched herself turn red. She took three bottles of malt liquor from the fridge and returned to the living room, handing each man their drink like a grateful servant. Tyrone snapped the cap off and took a refreshing swig.

"Please may I clean my face, sir?" Stephanie asked softly, hoping he would be only happy to have her looking her best.

"Shut up, bitch. Get on your hands and knees down here." Tyrone pointed to the carpet in front of his chair. She dropped down and he pulled her hair to reposition her to face sideways. Then he leaned back in his armchair and put his feet across her back, using her as a piece of human furniture. "Now you stay there while we chill. The sooner you know your place, the better."

The men chuckled and Tyrone took another sip on his bottle, feeling pretty happy with his deal.

LaQuisha, a short woman sporting a weave and knock-off Gucci threads, arrived thirty minutes later. When she barreled into the apartment, talking animatedly more to herself than to the big man who opened the door, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and pulled back her sunglasses.

"What the hell?" she shrieked, seeing Tyrone with his feet up on the naked white girl. "...Oh ma lord!"

"Hey, LaQuisha," Tyrone said pulling out his wallet. "Meet Stephanie, my new ho. As you can see, she needs a new outfit so I can put her to work tonight. Take her and take this and get her into somethin' nice, understan'?"

LaQuisha hurried over and snatched up the roll of twenties. "Yes, T," she said sweetly, giggling at the sight of the pretty girl on the floor. "You so bad."

"Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll give you some a that when you get back."

LaQuisha stuffed the roll in her pocket and looked Stephanie up and down as Tyrone finally let the disgraced woman up off the carpet, seeing the nearly dried cum stuck to her face and the crude words scrawled above her brow. Jamal roughly threw the fur coat at her and LaQuisha grabbed the girl by the wrist, hurrying her out and making her scramble to conceal herself. They went out to the parking lot where LaQuisha bundled her into her car.

The ride through the neighborhood only helped to confirm Stephanie's misgivings. The streets were neglected and crime-ridden, with not a single white face in sight. Throughout the journey, LaQuisha talked incessantly in her annoying high-pitched tone, telling her what she should expect, where to go and where to avoid and why she shouldn't dare to disobey Tyrone. Stephanie couldn't get a word out the entire way and instead decided to sit tight until they got to wherever it was they were going. They soon parked up on a corner, outside a clothing store and LaQuisha practically pulled Stephanie out of her seat and into the building, almost as if she was afraid to be seen with her. Then again, maybe she was just eager to get back to the apartment and claim her expenses.

The store was empty except for rack upon rack of colorful and cheap clothing. One woman at the counter waved LaQuisha through and Stephanie found herself being led down a stairway into a darker basement floor. Unlike the relatively normal clothing upstairs, the designs tucked away downstairs were notably wilder and trashier. Miniskirts and bodices hung next to boxes of fake jewelry, fake nails, weaves and plastic handbags. Marijuana pipes and bongs filled the shelves next to tacky ornaments and novelty lighters. Then there were the other items that reminded Stephanie worryingly of her mistress's 'special' closets. Dildos, PVC outfits, lingerie and other cheap sex aids lined one of the walls, giving the place a seedy atmosphere of forbidden temptation.

Another woman at the counter saw LaQuisha descend the steps and called out to her. "Hey, girl! What brings you over these parts?...And who that with you?" The store owner heard the second set of footsteps and watched with curiosity as her friend was followed inside by the beautiful red-haired white woman, clutching a thick fur coat around herself for protection.

"Denise! I'm on an errand. For Tyrone." LaQuisha didn't need to say anymore than that. She shoved Stephanie forward for her friend to inspect. Denise peered at the girl as she stumbled closer and immediately noticed the writing on her forehead. Stephanie looked down at the floor.

Great. Yet another person to see me like this.

"Oh shit!" Denise suddenly burst into laughter. "No wonder you in a hurry. Don't worry, I think we can find something that'll work."

LaQuisha steered Stephanie into a small changing room and told her to wait in there while they picked her out something to wear. Stephanie could hear them from inside the stall, joking and tittering among themselves as they walked the aisles, grabbing items off the hooks and debating whether they would suit her.

"Ok, bitch," LaQuisha's voice sang out as she pulled the curtain back. "Gimme your coat. Hurry it up!" Stephanie reluctantly shrugged off the garment and handed it over, only to have a number of items shoved into her hand. "Put these on and come out to show us when you ready. We just guessed your size so if anything's not right...well...tough shit, pretty girl. Now like I said, hurry the fuck up."

Stephanie's heart sank as she looked at the coat-hangers in her hand but despite the garish and sleazy selections, she at least now had something to cover her nudity. Unstrapping her shoes, she began to sort through the items.

Denise and LaQuisha were waiting outside impatiently and as Stephanie emerged, they stopped chatting and turned to admire their special sense of fashion. She had replaced her black pumps with a pair of black ankle boots. Her ivory legs were encased in fishnet stockings that traveled up to a pair of skintight leopard print booty shorts, so snug they left her displaying a very noticeable camel toe. Meanwhile, her upper body was adorned with a slinky top, complete with a plunging neckline that more than hinted at her lacey push-up bra underneath. Completing the look, she wore a pair of large gold hoop earrings. All in all, she looked like stereotypical white trash. The girls slapped a high-five.

As it turned out, Tyrone was also happy with the result and skimmed off two of the twenty dollar bills for LaQuisha to spend on her usual diet of soda, weed and bling. He had already picked out a street corner for Stephanie to work her first night and she was allowed to shower and primp herself with heavy makeup before she began her first shift. All she was given was a small clutch bag to store her earnings and a few essential items.

"Now remember the rules, bitch," he snarled at her as they drove over to the spot. "Use the cell phone to message me after every job. Use the rubbers. And don't show your white ass back at the crib until at least 3AM and you got at least thirty bucks with you."

"Yes, sir."

He dropped her off just as the sun was going down. Stephanie did the math. Fifteen jobs within the next five hours. The car pulled away and she was alone under the glow of the streetlamp.

The neighborhood was even more unwelcoming in the darkness. She felt like eyes were watching her from the alleyways and car windows wherever she walked. Memories of stories she had heard of hookers going missing off the streets or found bloodied and beaten at the hands of some psychopathic curb crawler cycled through her head. Other prostitutes caked in makeup hung out nearby, giving her evil looks as she wobbled along the sidewalk in her high heeled boots.

"Yeah, you better keep walking, Miss Thang!" one of the sleazily dressed women yelled from across the street. "This is OUR patch!"

She didn't look at them. Instead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to put the dangers to the back of her mind.

Just treat it like a game. Like a movie. You're the lead actress in the remake of Pretty Woman. Yeah, that's it...One of these guys may even be a rich banker who'll save you from all this. Yeah, it's just a movie...show 'em what you can do.

It didn't take long for a car to roll up alongside her and slow to a halt. The window wound down and the young man behind the wheel caught her eye. Evidently, he liked what he saw. "Hey, baby. Lookin' good. You havin' a good night?"

"Sure am," Stephanie replied, approaching the vehicle and leaning seductively inside. "How about you, sweetie?"

At least he's ok looking, she thought, peering at his youthful features emerging from the shadows.

"Not bad. How much?"

"Two bucks, honey."

The crawler frowned for a moment. Then he laughed. "Right! Sure! Hey I may look young and I may be from outta town but I ain't no dummy."

"No, really...it's two bucks. That's it."

"What is? Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Two bucks for whatever your pleasure. Two bucks a pop."

He stared at her, confused, massaging the stubble on his jaw. He looked at her cleavage and at her stunning facial features. "You a cop? Is that it?"

"No, I'm not a cop. I just...I need the money, ok?"

The man nodded slowly and Stephanie realized that he was assuming she was a drug addict down on her luck.

Whatever. If it gets this over with more quickly, they can think whatever they want.

The door locks sprang up. "Get in."

They drove down a side street and parked up behind a tattoo parlor, all the while the guy glanced at her legs and shifted nervously in his seat. She was fairly sure he wasn't going to be her Richard Gere. Sitting in the dark, he pulled out two crumpled dollar bills and placed them on the dashboard, waiting for her to make the first move. Stephanie took them and dropped them in her purse.

"Ok...so what do you want?"

"I want you to sit on my lap and fuck me," he responded matter-of-factly.

"That's it?" she asked, surprised, but then quickly wondered why she'd said that out loud. The man just nodded and she could tell he seemed anxious to hurry things up. The low price had unnerved him and he probably still thought this was some sort of sting. To put an end to his fears, she tugged her shorts down, pulling her knees up to wriggle them off in the cramped confines of the passenger seat. He watched her take them off and calmly unzipped his pants, lowering them to his thighs. Stephanie could see that he was already at half mast and reached down, stroking him gently. "It's ok. I'm gonna fuck you hard like a good little whore and make sure I earn every cent of those two measly dollars."

Let's get this over with. I just know Tyrone will make me work all night if I don't meet his target.

Her words perked the man up and his shoulders relaxed. Soon, he was standing to attention enough for her to roll a condom onto him. A small mercy, not just because she wouldn't have to risk catching something from sordid strangers but because she wouldn't have to provide her own lubrication. She quickly straddled him and sat on his cock, wasting no time on foreplay. This had to happen quickly.

Well jeez, for two bucks, what does he expect?

He sighed as his prick slid inside her and she bounced on it as hard as she could to keep things moving. The front of the car began to squeak and rock but there was no one else in the alley to witness the scene.

Just a role in a movie...he's just an actor...I'm going to win an Oscar for this...

"Oh yeah, baby! Stuff my fucking cunt! That feels so good!" Stephanie kept the dirty talk going as she humped him wildly, hoping she could see her first john off quickly and not have to think about it for long. The touch of his hands gripping her ass as she fucked him was a good sign, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. She pulled her top open, shoving her breasts in his face. Another smart tactic.

It seemed to work. The man's face went from grin to grimace in a couple of minutes and he pulled her closer into him. She felt his cock twitch and his gasps suggested he was shooting his load into the rubber.

Thank fuck for that.

As soon as the man lay back in his seat, Stephanie hopped off and grabbed her shorts, opening the door so she could kick her legs out and give her more room to put them back on.

"Thanks!" the man said, pulling the condom off carefully. "That was nuts. You really know how to get a guy off."

"Yeah, don't mention it."

"What, no small talk?"

"Look, you got what you wanted. Can I go now?"

He paused for a second, pulling his pants up and checking the rearview to make sure they were alone. "Sure, bitch. Enjoy your coke habit." Stephanie suddenly felt a hand on her back and saw the ground coming towards her. She fell to the concrete paving, her shorts still tangled around her knees as the door slammed behind her and the car squealed off onto the street. Her purse flew out of the window before the vehicle disappeared forever, leaving her belongings strewn across the alley.

She was relieved to find she wasn't hurt. The only damage was to her pride as she quickly pulled the booty shorts up before having to scramble around in the gutter to retrieve her belongings. She found the sad dollar bills and opened them out.

All that just for this...

Stephanie sighed, put the money back in her purse and dusted herself off. One down, fourteen to go. She sent a text to Tyrone, the only number in the cell phone, to tell him just that.

She had barely been back on the main street when another car's headlights washed over her and the wheels slowed to a stop a few paces ahead. She decided it was better if she just smiled and kept her attitude in check this time. The last guy had been an average creep but in a place like this, he was probably one of the nicer ones. She sauntered to the window and leaned in, bending at the waist to show off her toned legs in case they needed a little more encouragement.

"Hey, sugar. Feeling lonely?"

The man behind the wheel was Hispanic, with a moustache and thinning hair. His eyes widened as he saw how unexpectedly pretty the girl was and immediately reached over to open the door. Stephanie climbed in and they began to drive, her heart racing even more than the last time. She had no idea who he was or where she was going and she knew she'd feel this same anxiety every time she got into a car.

"So, where are we going?"

"Motel a few blocks down," he replied in a heavy accent.

"Ok, sure. What do you wanna do?"

"Depends. How much?"

"Two dollars a time."

The car almost skidded to a halt and the man looked at her with the same stunned and wary look that the last guy had shown. This was never going to be easy to explain.

"Are you fucking with me?!"

"No, sir," Stephanie instantly jumped on the defensive, realizing she would need to be as polite and friendly as possible in case the guy thought she was mocking him. "Honestly, it's just two bucks. Any hole you like, any kink you have. I'm...I'm on discount."

He drove a while longer without saying anything and Stephanie hoped he wouldn't push her out of the car while it was moving. The neon lights of the motel blinked up ahead and a rundown sign announced there were vacancies available. She waited in the lot while he spoke with the receptionist and he came back not long after with a key to one of the dank rooms. Inside, the peeling walls and aged furniture were worse than she had expected.

The man put the latch on the door and then pulled out his wallet. Carefully, he pulled out six crisp dollar notes and waved them in the air with a smile. By the pleasure on his face, she knew what he was after without even having to ask. She watched him feed the slot by the rickety bed a handful of quarters, making the bed begin to vibrate, before sitting down on it and winking at her. The greedy pervert then stuffed two of the bills down the front of his pants.

"First two dollars. You want it, bitch? Come get it."

She earned her money that night. Sucking and riding him hard and letting him take her in all three of her holes, even letting him discard the condom when he was close so he could finish himself off over her face. The man enjoyed his time immensely and he promised to come back to see her again soon. He just couldn't believe he had been given the best sex of his life for next to nothing.

And he wasn't the last. Stephanie's first night on the job saw her go through no less than a dozen men. Some of the men who scouted her fled when they heard the low price, thinking they were being stung. But the ones that took the risk had their dreams fulfilled. She went down on them in their cars, in alleyways, in dilapidated bedrooms and in the same squalid motel. She fucked them like a true professional, moaning in all the right places as they railed her in backseats, against walls and on rusty beds. She let them use all of her holes without complaint until each one was sore and swollen and reeking of rubber and lubrication. Her skin was clammy with sweat and the remnants of their seed. Worst of all was the feeling on the inside. The ever present and powerful feeling of degradation. She wondered, even if she were to one day escape her enslavement, how she would ever be able to move on. To live a normal life again. To ever think of herself as anything other than a whore.

By 3AM, her orifices felt loose and tender. She was exhausted but she had made the required amount and sent a message to request a pick up. When Tyrone came by, he snatched the money off her without a word. On the way back to the apartment, he told she would be allowed to shower and sleep as a reward for a job well done. First though, he said they had to eat. Stopping by a drive-thru restaurant, he ordered a large meal for them both, telling the intercom to serve up cheeseburgers, wings, fries and diet cokes. To Stephanie's horror, almost her entire earnings for the night landed in the hands of the cashier, replaced with greasy fast food. She told herself it was better than nothing. In fact, a warm meal, a shower and a rest would feel like heaven at that point.

As it turned out, Tyrone had a system. Stephanie was to spend alternating nights on the street and in his apartment, putting her talents to use as he saw fit. Compared to the draining ritual of having to pleasure a multitude of men, she preferred being at the 'crib', even though Tyrone was a bully and always seemed to be on the verge of violence, keeping his gun nearby at all times. When she stayed with him, she would be used as a plaything and a maid, not unlike her regular life with Madame Snyde. Yet Tyrone inspired a different sort of fear, one that was brutal and masculine. He enjoyed ordering her to debase herself for him and his friends and she wondered if even Snyde had bitten off more than she could chew by dealing with him. If they wanted to keep her as their own, what was to stop them?

Meanwhile, the relative freedom of the streets was still just as dangerous as it was the first night and the more time she spent on them, the more her soul seemed to disappear. Her valuable Caucasian body and beautiful features were gold dust in this neighborhood and finding men to pay her for sex was never difficult. Stephanie became an expert in giving back alley blowjobs, squatting in filthy passages and working her mouth on customer after lucky customer. She amused them with her willingness to please and they found they could make her do anything to see to that end. Private strip shows. Spit roasts. Foot jobs. Rimjobs. Stephanie was their go-to girl, whatever the kink. And all for just two George Washingtons. Unless of course they wanted to pay with nickels and dimes. That was fine too.

As word spread of her discount rates, more people showed up looking for her and several customers became regulars. All of them got to indulge in the delights of her own dark alleyways until the small hours of the morning when she would walk with a limp back to the corner and wait for Tyrone to swing by in his Cadillac. The other hookers hated her even more as she started eating into their business and she soon became a pariah within the working-girl community. While she didn't experience any real trouble with the men, more than once she was threatened with a knife by another prostitute, sending her running back to the safety of her own patch.

It was one of those very nights when she was halfway through her shift that things took a different turn. A car pulled up on the curb and Stephanie sensed an easy catch. Strutting up to the window as usual, she peered inside and batted her heavy eyelids. "What's happening, tonight, babe? Looking for some fun?"

"Maybe," the stranger replied. "What sort of fun can I get around here?"

"Well, stick with me and I can help. How about I get in?"

"How much?" he asked, casual but obviously keeping his cards to his chest.

"Two bucks, whatever hole you want."

"Is that so?" he said, strangely unfazed by the price.

"Uh-huh. You can fuck me 'til your dick bursts and you choose where it ends up. In me or on me. Let's hurry it up though, ok? Can I get in?" She was worried the chick with the knife would be looking for her, still angry that Stephanie's last john had supposedly been snatched out of her hands.

The man took a long look at her and reached into his glove box.

Bingo. Another one down. At this rate, I should be wrapped up here in maybe an hour or two...

Only the man hadn't reached for his cash. Glinting in his outstretched hand was a gold police shield. Vice Squad. Stephanie's heart skipped.

"Sure you can get in, but let me give you a hand." He stepped out of the car and before she knew it, he had his hands on her arms, pulling them back behind her and slapping on the cuffs. The cold metal was a familiar feeling but the person putting her in them this time was much more officious and professional. "You must be new around here. I'm Detective Horowitz and I'll be your designated driver to jail this evening."

The officer informed her of her rights but Stephanie barely took any of it in, thinking instead about the reality of her situation. She was being arrested. A criminal record. And not just for anything. For prostitution. Wondering how she was ever going to live the disgrace down, it suddenly dawned on her as she rode in the back of the cop's car that she was safer in that moment than she had been in months. In fact it only just dawned on her that she wasn't really responsible for her crime. That she was still under the influence of whatever Prunella Snyde had done to her mind.

I'm the victim. I'm the victim! I've been kidnapped! I'm being made to do this!

Her panic turned into relief. For the first time she could remember, a glint of hope had appeared. She just needed to let them know what had happened and they would save her. They were the police, for christ's sake.

Except Stephanie was still bound to her instructions not to ask for help from anyone, not to try to escape and not to tell anyone about Snyde or the house...or anything. If she couldn't tell them what was happening, could she find a loophole in her orders to let them in on the secret? Could she drop enough hints to let them know she needed to be checked out for mind altering substances? Maybe even enough to let them know where to look for her? Surely the police would be able to figure out that something was wrong.

At the county lockup, Stephanie went through the uncomfortable process of being booked. Her fingerprints were taken and then her purse, cell phone, condoms and money, sealed in an envelope and stowed away. She was ordered into a holding room where a female officer waved a metal detector over her and found nothing. However word had travelled that she had been charging ridiculously low prices for her trade and Horowitz suspected she was holding drugs.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to strip down to search you," the inspecting officer said, jotting notes on her clipboard. Stephanie sighed and began to peel her tawdry outfit off, dropping each item into a plastic container until she stood buck naked, holding herself in a thin effort to protect her modesty. "Now hands up against the wall, please. Feet wide apart."

She turned and positioned herself as instructed, leaving herself open to examination. The snap of rubber gloves made her flinch. Soon the policewoman's hands were on her, running up and down her body from outside to in. As the woman cupped her breasts, lifting them to feel the underside, Stephanie could feel the officer's crotch grazing her ass and an involuntary shudder of excitement trickled through her in response.

Now is NOT the time!

The inspection continued and the hands patted the inside of her thighs. "Relax for me," the officer said flatly. Then two fingers parted her trembling labia and slowly worked their way inside her tunnel, prodding at her walls and pushing as deep as they could. Stephanie breathed out heavily, feeling the arousal stir in her. The fingers stopped moving for a second as the officer hesitated, noticing the unusual reaction. The combination of embarrassment and intrusion was making Stephanie wet and she tried to take her mind off it, staring ahead into the wall.

When the fingers found nothing, they slid out, now glazed with a slight coating of juice. Stephanie's cunt contracted, not wanting them to leave. Then she felt the cool wetness on her other exposed orifice as the officer began to probe her ass, firm but gentle at the same time. Her sphincter relaxed and one finger slipped inside more easily than it should have, burrowing in past the knuckle. She could feel it rotating inside her like someone trying to get the last few scoops of ice cream from a tub without a spoon, but the finger found no contraband.

When she was deemed ready, she was allowed to put her clothes back on. She was lined up against a blank wall and her mugshot was taken, her image looking decidedly self-conscious. There would be no doubt it was her for anyone who wanted to access her file. With that over with, she was led down a corridor and into the holding cell area. A buzzer sounded as the gate drew back and she was shoved inside a cell that already held five other women. All of them looked at her with amusement or contempt. Three of them were prostitutes she had already had the displeasure of coming across and the other two were obviously repeat offenders, both half drunk or high on god knows what. This wasn't a good place to be but the metallic clang of the bars closing behind her promised to keep her there for the night. Nervous, Stephanie crept to a corner and turned to face the bars, not making eye contact with anyone and hoping they would just ignore her.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" said a husky voice behind her. Stephanie sighed.

Here we go. Why talk to me? What could I possibly have that you'd want?

She ignored the voice, pretending that she didn't know the question was meant for her. But the other woman came nearer. "White bitch, I'm talking to you."

Stephanie turned to see a tall black hooker looming angrily over her and she pressed herself closer to the bars like a cornered rabbit. "I...I don't want any trouble. I'm just in the same position as you."

The other women laughed, beginning to wonder just how much fun they could have with her. Stephanie could hear them moving closer, one of them drumming her nails along the bars menacingly. She looked out at the corridor and decided it was time to try to strike a plea. "Officers! Officers! Please, I need to speak with someone. This is all a misunderstanding!"

The black hooker placed a hand on her hair, dragging her fingers through it and clasping onto the burgundy locks. "You scared, cunt? Well you should be. The ladies and I don't take kindly to new whores on the block looking down their noses at the rest of us."

"I...I wasn't looking down my nose...OFFICERS!! I need to speak with you!!"

"Well you won't have to worry about that much longer. Not if we break your nose."

A wicked laughter broke out and Stephanie felt a hand grab her from behind by the neck, squeezing just enough to prevent her from yelling."

"Hey! What's the racket?!" grumbled a barrel-chested cop, wading down to the cell. The women broke away, returning to their benches and leaving Stephanie white as a sheet.

"Officer! Thank god! I need you to listen to me. I need to get out of here and speak with you. Please. It's really, REALLY important."

The cop shook his head, exasperated. "Look, if you can't do the time..."

"PLEASE! Really, you're going to want to hear what I have to say. But I need to go somewhere private first!"

He looked into her twinkling blue eyes, seemingly on the verge of tears. Then his gaze drifted down her body and he let out a sigh. "I'm not an impatient man but as you're not going anywhere anyway, I may as well hear you out just this once."

The buzzer sounded again and to the annoyance of the rest of the women, Stephanie stepped out of the cell. The freedom felt incredible. She felt like she had escaped the clutches of hell, if only for a while. And best of all, her nose was still in its perfectly positioned place.

This is it! They're going to listen to you! Now you just have to figure out how to get them to help...

Stephanie sat in the cold interview room on a steel chair, on the other side of a steel table from two steely-eyed officers. The guard who had let her out had "O'Donnell" on his name badge. The other, a no-nonsense looking guy, had one that read "Stevens".

"So what is it you wanted to tell us that's so important?" asked O'Donnell with barely veiled sarcasm.

Stephanie looked at the table for a moment, trying to work out a strategy. She couldn't tell them what had happened to her. That was against the clear instructions of Prunella Snyde. Likewise, she couldn't mention Snyde or anyone else involved, including Tyrone and his gang.

What can I allow myself to say? What can I hint at that won't violate the rules?

"Well?" Stevens snapped, folding his arms.

"I need...I want you to know that...I need to leave the jail. I have to make money..."

No! Don't say that! Stay focused, dammit!

"Yeah, tell us something we don't know," O'Donnell rolled his eyes.

"I...need you to assist me. In getting out. So that...that..."

That's it? That's all you can do...?

The officers stared at her for a while waiting for more but none came. She had reached the limit of her ability to communicate her inner desire and something else...a darkness...a creeping shadow...was emerging from the back of her brain and pulling her attempts to free herself back into the well of hopelessness along with it. It knew what she was trying to do and it was resisting. Her own mind was smothering the last vestiges of her will power. The cops then looked at each other, questioningly. Stevens was the first to smile and O'Donnell followed suit, nodding his head.

"Ok, hun," Stevens said, sliding off his perch on the table. "We get it. You want out. Bad. And we can help you, right?"

Stephanie nodded. YEAH! That's it! You can do this!

"Alright, maybe we can. But before we do, are you going to help us?"

She nodded again, slowly this time. What does he mean? Tell him more? I would if I could...

O'Donnell got up and walked to the door, rattling his keys as he locked it shut. The sound made Stephanie feel like she back in the holding cell all of a sudden. Tiny distant warning bells began to go off in her head.

"Tell me," Stevens continued. "Just what exactly will you do to help us before we help you?" He cocked his head, gazing overtly at her legs.

"Anything you want," she replied. "I'll...oh..."

Shit...SHIT! OH NO! she thought as it dawned on her just what the lawman was getting at. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for the penny to drop all the way.

They were bent cops and they didn't care about breaking the rules if they got something out of it. She was trapped in the room just like anywhere else. Stephanie began to wrestle with her thoughts again. This was a problem...but it didn't have to be the end.

Ok...They want me to 'help' them. If I do, they'll help me in return. They'll hear me out. Give me time to get to grips with how to escape. What if...could I? Could I go through with this? Could this be the way to do it?

O'Donnell cleared his throat, sidling next to Stephanie and waiting for a response.

What choice do I have? Maybe this is the key...

The irony wasn't lost on her. Using her recently developed skills learned in slavery to break out of the very bonds of slavery. Fucking to escape a life of being fucked.

"Anything," she said quietly. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."

"And no telling tales?" O'Donnell asked, hands on hips.

"I won't tell anyone about it."

Stevens shrugged. Who would believe a strung out whore like her anyway. He unbuckled his holster and belt and slung it over another chair. O'Donnell did the same, telling her to stand up. The officers leaned back on the table as she instinctively removed her top for the second time since her arrest and the eighth or ninth since her shift had begun. At this rate, she wondered why she even bothered to dress at all. As her bra came off, her small pink nipples pointed out, responding to both the cool air and the anticipation of being used again. This time by two men. Two men who in that moment had all the power in the world. The cops whistled and gawked as she cupped her boobs, pressing and squeezing them, showing the men just how hot and ready she was.

Don't forget...if you can do this right, you can be home free.

She moved closer and let their hands replace hers. Together, they massaged her breasts greedily, tweaking her nipples and watching her for her reaction. If they expected her to back down, they were in for a surprise, even when Stevens leaned in and licked at the small soft globe in his palm, running his tongue up her neck and along her cheek.

Then she dropped down on her haunches, eye-level with the waistbands of their uniform blue pants. Her fingers unzipped them both at the same time and soon she had them wrapped around a pair of growing dicks. The men left her to demonstrate her skills on them, watching her from above as she first licked and sucked on O'Donnell's meat, then switching to Stevens to make him as hard as he could possibly be. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her lips delighted them as her tongue danced up and down their shafts with expert precision. Soon, she was squatting between two very stiff cocks owned by two very firm policemen.

They picked her up under her arms and bent her over the table, the cold surface pressing against her nipples. Her butt provided an interesting view, the bottom of her cheeks on show beneath the sleazy pair of shorts. Not that they stayed on for long. She felt them being tugged down, leaving the chilled air to tickle her exposed private areas as they groped the goods on offer, pinging her stockings playfully and pinching her moist cunt lips.

"Don't forget to strap up, buddy," she heard O'Donnell mumble. "Who knows what a loose whore like this is carrying." O'Donnell then pulled her arms out to each corner of the table as his colleague shoved his knee between her thighs, telling her to spread them. Stevens was getting first dibs. She could hear him tearing a wrapper open and rolling on a skin.

"Damn, you're a fine piece of ass," he muttered. "Horowitz said you were pushing this out for two dollars a ride...you must really be gagging for it." The length of his cock slapped against her crack and slid down until the tip was level with her pussy. He burrowed it in inch by inch, noticing her dampness. "I was right! She's wetter than a slip 'n' slide!"

To prove it, he sank all the way in, making Stephanie moan loudly, her body now just as eager to have them inside her. Her fingers gripped the edges of the table as he rocked in and out, while O'Donnell observed, keeping a grip on her wrists. Not wanting to miss out on the action, he released her for a few moments, fumbling around out of view. As she grunted with each rough thrust, she felt more cold metal on her wrists. O'Donnell slapped a handcuff on each one, fastening her arms to the table legs and leaving her utterly defensive to the assault.

"Uh...uh...uh...uh...uh..." Stephanie's moans couldn't be heard beyond the thick breezeblock walls but O'Donnell still wanted to make sure she didn't make too much noise. With a fistful of her hair in his hand, he waved his dick in her face and let her take the initiative, trapping it in her mouth like a fish to bait. Spit-roasted between them, her grunts of pleasure and surprise grew louder still, but muffled by the mouthful of cock, there was no opportunity to protest now. "NNGG...NNGG...NNGG...NNGG...NNGG..."

This had better work.

The soft pink lips at both ends of her body opened wide for the police officer's dicks, both ends leaving trails of slick fluids dripping onto the floor. The men didn't seem to care which end they had, they were both fucking their respective warm wet hole with the same abandon, using her like she was just a piece of meat with a useful orifice at each end. After all, there was no reason to think she was anything more than that. She was a prostitute now, plain and simple. A low-rate harlot who gave it up for the price of a cheese sandwich.

"NNGGG...fffuu....nnnnggg....mmmm...mmmm...." Stephanie's slobbering whines continued as they see-sawed into her. When one pulled out, the other pushed in. Her clit rubbed against the metal surface of the table and her pussy yearned for more.

The men swapped ends with O'Donnell slipping on a fresh rubber, not wanting to take the risk of picking up some sort of infection. Stevens yanked his off, happy to continue the rest of the way without the same concern now that he was inside her drooling mouth. The officers were even rougher with her now, physically pulling her head and hips both ways to increase their pleasure. Stevens pushed as far as he could until he heard her gag and slid out again, chuckling at her willingness to be used. "Fuck, lady," he laughed, "You just can't get enough, can you?"

His colleague was working hard too, leaning heavily into her as he slammed her twat, making her hips buck and her ass ripple with each shockwave. Now that he was all in for the ride, his beefy hands slapped and squeezed at her buttocks. It wasn't long before Stephanie felt a cool object squashing against her asshole, something wide and rounded, pressing heavier with every second. She relaxed and let it enter, grimacing as the double intrusion pinned her to the table.

"Take it, bitch, you know you want it!"

O'Donnell rammed six or seven inches of his nightstick up her ass without much resistance and was surprised at how loose she was. Her butt swallowed the fiberglass baton as eagerly as her mouth and pussy were for their rigid dicks. As they speared her in every hole, Stevens raised his palm and the two officers high-fived each other. Sometimes being a cop had its perks.

"MMMmm...nnnggg! NNNNGGGH! NNNGHHH! NNNGHHH!!"

Just as she was reaching her limits, O'Donnell grunted, pushing his weight hard against her. His pace sped up and she felt his cock jerk as he mumbled incoherently. Stevens saw his partner was busting his load and looked at his watch. Pulling out of her, he dangled the tip of his rod over her nose and began to rapidly pump his cock in his hand.

"Yes!" Stephanie yelled. "Give it to me, officer!" The first stream hit her in the eye, obscuring her vision of the rest of his baby batter firing aimlessly over her face. It trickled down her cheeks, as she gasped for breath.

Finally! It's over!

The officers both made sure they cleaned up properly. They disposed of the condoms and wiped her down with an alcohol rub as she remained stretched out across the table, even making her gargle and spit from a hip flask of vodka to wash out their remnants. You could never be too careful.

Stephanie was finally released from the handcuffs and given her clothes back. O'Donnell wiped his brow and pushed the chair towards her. "Sit tight, we'll be back in just a while."

"Are you going to help me?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he muttered, shutting the door behind them and leaving her alone in the interview room. Her hopes lifted the tiniest bit more. When they returned a few minutes later, they were all smiles and professionalism.

"Okay, Miss Coy," Stevens said, swinging a set of keys from his finger. "We pulled a few strings. You're free to go."

"I'm what?"

"Free to go. You're being let off with a warning, first offense and all. You're welcome."

"But I...I need your help. I need to get out...I-"

"What are you deaf? We're letting you out, you lucky slut. Now get the fuck outta here and stop wasting our time. I'm sure all those dicks aren't gonna suck themselves." The cops chuckled and guided her out the door, practically frog-marching her to the exit.

This isn't what I meant! Why can't I tell them what I need??!!

Before she could think of any other way to try to appeal to them, the boys in blue shoved her out onto the stone steps of the station entrance and wandered off to get on with their duties, whistling happily over their abuse of power. Stephanie stood motionless, realizing she had just allowed herself to be fucked by two men for no other reason than to spend the night whoring herself on the streets instead of in jail. Hugging herself to ward off the cool night air, she spun around as she heard the honking of a Cadillac parked outside. Tyrone's scowling face glared back from the driver's seat, beckoning her over.

"You done got yourself busted, ya stupid bitch," he grumbled as she climbed into the car.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm really, really sorry."

"Shut up, ho. You lucky I didn't have to pay for yo' sorry ass to get out. That bein' the case, I bet you d'int make all your dough, huh?"

Shit. He's right.

"N-no, sir. But I have at least half...see?" She rifled through her purse and pulled out the thin wad of notes amounting to just sixteen dollars for the entire night's takings. Tyrone snatched it out of her hand and looked at her with a burning rage.

"None a my bitches come back short changing' me. You gonna work twice as hard on your next shift to make it up, ya hear? But now I gotta teach you a lesson. You'll see what happens to stupid ass hos who can't keep they ass on the streets."

He pulled away and drove her in silence for several blocks. The morning light was coming up over the buildings as they pulled into an empty lot behind a pawnshop. Tyrone got out first and told her to follow him, leading her down a long narrow alley. Stephanie felt her blood run cold, wondering if this was the last morning she'd ever see. She wanted to will her legs to move. To run.

Passing trashcans and graffiti covered walls, they stopped at an overflowing dumpster. Tyrone looked down at a pile of cardboard and discarded clothes and smiled. "Just where I thought you'd be," he said giving the pile a couple of short kicks.

The cardboard groaned. Rather, something underneath it groaned. The bundle of garbage moved and rustled until finally the man sleeping underneath rolled over and peered out in confusion from his makeshift bed.

"Hey...who's that?" the hobo croaked, his bloodshot eyes swiveling around. "Can't a guy sleep in peace out here?"

"Wake up, man. It's Tyrone. Remember? The one who gave you that fifth of vodka in exchange for glassin' that dude last year."

The homeless man sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Say what? Man, I don't know no Tyrone. You say you got vodka? Spare a guy a drop, huh? Just something to wake me up." His memory was no good but his thirst for alcohol seemed just as strong. His face was covered with dirt and his ragged clothes hung off him like a scarecrow. He held out a blackened palm, already begging for a handout.

"I ain't got no vodka, but I do got something better if you want it."

The man's eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly. "Crack? Crystal? Whatever you're giving away, I'll take it."

Tyrone stuck his thumb out at Stephanie. "I want you to meet someone. Fred, this is Stephanie. Stephanie, meet Fish-Head Fred."

The hobo pulled himself uneasily to his feet and steadied himself against the wall. "Pleased to make your acquaint..." His greeting was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, ending with him spitting a wad of tarry slime onto the floor.

Stephanie grimaced and nervously waved a hand. "Uh...hi?"

"Say, Fred," said Tyrone. "How long it been since you had any pussy?" The girl beside him flinched and sucked in a sharp breath of air.

Oh, no fucking way! This better be a joke!

"Wha?" Fred replied. "Haha...now that's a luxury ol' Fred ain't had in a long time."

"Well, what do you think of Stephanie? She cute ain't she?"

Fred leered at her, looking her up and down. His eyes bugged as he saw what she was wearing and thy lingered on her bare legs. Then he smiled with a mouthful of yellow teeth. "Hoo-ey! Yeah, she's a hot little mama. Heh heh! But...shit..."

"What is it, man? You don't wanna piece a this ass?" Tyrone took Stephanie by the wrist and made her turn around for him, showing Fred the goods.

No, he doesn't. Please say no.

"...Man, look at me. I ain't got money for no whores."

"Well, how much you got?"

The man picked up a styrofoam cup and sadly peered inside at the handful of meager pennies. "Uh...two...three cents."

"Well, shit!! It just so happens that today we're doin' a very special offer! It's all the fun you need for just three cents!"

Stephanie hugged herself, anxious to not go through with this. "Sir, please, I'm REALLY sorry I messed up. I won't do it again. I'll work twice as har..."

"SHUT UP!" Tyrone snapped. "Whaddya think, Fred?"

"You're pulling my leg," said the down-and-out, sadly. "It's not nice to make fun of ol' Fred."

"Oh I ain't playin' witcha. Go ahead, bitch. Show him I ain't playin'."

The redhead's face fell and she stepped forward slowly, feeling herself being pulled in by the need to obey him but wanting nothing more than anything to escape into the streets and rid herself of this nightmare. As she moved closer, she could smell the heavy scent of booze mixed with dirt and body odor. Fred watched her cautiously as she inched nearer and finally sank to her haunches. He gasped and clenched his fists as she reached out to grab his grimy pants, squashing the foam cup in his grip.

Fred was left frozen on the spot as his pants came down. Stephanie stared at the filthy pair of briefs a few inches in front of her, stained, full of holes and stinking of stale urine. But these too she had to remove and down they came. Underneath, a clump of dark bushy hair and a droopy set of dick and balls gave off their own unearthly aroma. As his cock swang free, she gazed in horror, noticing he had some sort of rash.

"Now you know why they call him Fish-Head Fred!" Tyrone laughed. Reluctant but knowing there was no turning back, she reached into her purse for a condom, only for her pimp to grab the bag from her hands. "Nuh-uh."

Defeated yet again, Stephanie turned back to the wretched genitals and wrinkled her nose as she pressed her face near to them, fighting the urge to scream. Feeling the foul pubes on her skin, she gently kissed the dick before wrapping her lips around it and massaging it with her tongue. Trying to be a professional, she pushed the worst thoughts out of her mind and tried not to think too hard about how long it had been since the hobo had last washed. Months, at least. Maybe years?

Fred shuddered and let out a surprised yelp as he felt the beautiful woman start sucking him off. His cock was already hardening and the sensation was like a hit of the crackpipe. He had almost forgotten what a blowjob from a hooker felt like. Amazing. Incredible. At least twice as good as finding a day old cheeseburger in the trash. He drooled and mumbled as Stephanie fluffed him to full hardness.

She was having less of a picnic. The stench of his body made her gag a few times and she came close to throwing up. All things considered, it was one of the more disgusting things she'd had to endure. And that was saying a lot.

Fred began to relax. He smiled again and gave Tyrone a thumb up as he started to thrust his hips. "Uh yeeeah...that's nice...that's real nice...ohhh...ohhh...you know how to do it, baby...YAACCK AACK HAAACKKK!"

His moans and grunts were interspersed with heavy coughs. Then, when the coughing subsided, he would laugh and remember where he was, spitting out a ball of phlegm and letting the girl continue to arouse his long neglected little friend. This was a real treat. His hangover was disappearing in a cloud of pleasure and like a bottle of hard liquor, he didn't want to stop until he'd drained the whole thing.

Stephanie choked and spluttered too. The stiff and stinking shaft was slamming into her throat at will and the awful scratching of his furry groin on her face was hard to bear even without the smell. She gagged and thought for a second she was about to throw up.

Anticipating that poor old Fred wouldn't last too long, Tyrone told Stephanie to ride him. "After all, he payin' you three whole cents, bitch. You don't wanna short change the man."

Guiding the hobo back onto his bed of garbage, she helped him lay down and unenthusiastically removed her own shorts, sliding them down her ivory legs and letting Tyrone take hold of them for her like a bargaining chip until she saw to her end of the wager. Fred salivated at the sight of her tight pussy and practically wailed as she crawled on top of him, planting her knees either side and lowering herself onto the disgusting pole.

It took a few prods to find her opening but when he did, she sank down on him easily. Her cunt closed around his cock and despite her revulsion at the filthy appendage inside her, she rode him bareback like the cheap whore she had become, rolling her hips and bouncing up and down.

"OH! Yeah! Yeah! Give ol' Fred that sweet honey pot!" Fred was gnashing his teeth in delight and planted his grimy hands on her ass while she fucked him.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah!" Stephanie moaned as she felt him drilling inside her. "Give it to me, baby!"

Tyrone rubbed his hands together, pleased with the power he had over the white girl. He was surprised to find that he was even getting hard watching. Her ass cheeks slapping together and her pale twat beneath getting stretched open was something he never grew tired of seeing. Not that he had any intention of joining in on this one. No way. "Good thing you got a shaved pussy or you'd be catching them crabs right now!" he called out.

She glanced back at him in alarm, hoping he was just trying to scare her.

Is this what I've been reduced to? Having sex with a hobo in a pile of garbage for three cents? When will this end?

Fortunately, it was not to be much longer. Fred started to make pained noises and his moans became high-pitched like the cries of a dying animal.

"Take it on your face!" Tyrone blurted out, looking to the ends of the alley to make sure they were still alone.

Her pussy slid off him quickly, not wanting to be in contact with the vile dick another moment longer. Just as quickly, Stephanie bent her head down again towards it, tugging at it wildly. Fred squealed and his mouth twisted into a silent scream, until finally, he released his load. She was only centimeters away as it erupted, sending streams of foul-smelling jizz over her horrified face.

"NuuuuhhhhHHHH!" Fred cried out, gripping tightly to two handfuls of newspaper and watching himself ejaculate on the girl's pretty features.

"Day-um, Fred! You needed that, huh?" Tyrone said, keeping his distance. The hobo said nothing, only panting and coughing in the wake of his orgasm. "Now you know, bitch. Now you know not to upset me. Clean yo'self up and let's go. You got work to do."

Stephanie stood up and reached for her shorts, only to have Tyrone throw them across the alleyway, making her have to hobble off half-naked to rummage for them in the gutter.

Fish-Head Fred curled up against the wall and watched them leave. He still couldn't believe it. It was the first stroke of luck he'd had since he found that pot of glue in the dumpster. But this was even better. Getting to tap a hot piece of ass like that...it was a dream come true. Maybe it WAS a dream, he suddenly thought. Maybe he was having another bad spell and none of this was real.

He looked down into his cup of change and saw three shiny pennies staring back up at him. After all that, the black guy had forgotten to take his money.

"Yee-hoo! Today's my lucky day!!"


Chapter 9: Pretty in Pink
Tags: MF, lezdom, group, blowjob, anal, exhibitionism, humiliation, w/s, abdl

The party was getting into full swing.

Around twenty five guests filled the majestic upper floor function room and everyone was having a great time. Many of them had come with a partner and they stood in various circles or reclined on one of the several Georgian period sofas in the center of the room, chatting sociably and quaffing their drinks from crystal glasses. All of them donned venetian masks with their black tie attire, disguising their true identities despite quite a few of them having known each other for years. For most, this wasn't their first trip to the mansion on the hill. The guests knew how lucky they were to be invited into the inner circle and the private parties only came around once every six months. They intended to make the most of it.

Only two people in the room were without masks. One was Madame Snyde herself, beautified and dressed in an eye-catching red ball gown. As the host, everyone showered her in thanks and well wishes as she glided around the room, soaking up their admiration with a glass of wine in hand. The other was Nina. The gorgeous slavegirl was stationed at the mini bar in the corner of the room, serving drinks and occasionally carrying a tray of them out to make sure no one ever had an empty glass.

Not only was Nina without a mask, she was also without much clothing at all, instead carrying out her duties in only a black garter belt, classic sheer stockings and a pair of shiny red pumps. She looked incredible and she didn't need the leers of every man in the room for her to know it. But stare at her they did and even some of the women did too, with many of them gathering near the bar to get a close up view of her heavy breasts, bare and swaying above the polished wood. Her deep brown hair was tied up, leaving her caramel shoulders uncovered and her long dark eyelashes fluttered at each partygoer as they told her what they wanted, most making no effort to unglue their eyes from her chest.

Whenever Nina left the confines of the bar to ferry drinks around the room, conversation stalled as everyone turned to watch her and her shamelessly exposed pussy and ass, round and bulbous and utterly tempting. Nina didn't mind. In fact, she fully embraced every moment, feeling the eyes on her naked body and the genuine sense of excitement rising in her pelvis as she was regarded as a piece of meat on display for their entertainment. She never wanted it to end.

The only person in the room who made Nina uncomfortable was the tall man in the gray cape. He had attended these parties before and something about his presence always seemed to unnerve her. His glassy eyes bore into her from under his elaborate devil mask as he leaned on the bar and demanded a whiskey, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

As the alcohol settled in and stirred the room to a loud buzz, Prunella Snyde decided it was time to begin the evening's entertainment. Tapping a long blood red fingernail to her glass, the conversation fell to a hushed murmur and the sea of masks turned their attention to her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends of old and new, thank you so much for coming to this season's bi-annual Party on the Hill!"

The guests applauded and raised their glasses to her.

"Thank you, thank you. It's so good to have you all here and I'm particularly looking forward to getting to know our newbies. However, that will have to wait until later. As many of you know, I have added a new member to my harem and tonight, you get to meet her...NINA!" Snyde clicked her fingers. "...Bring in the new slut!"

Nina leaped to attention and disappeared out of a door at the back of the room. The murmur rose up again in the room as anticipation gripped the revelers. This was what they were really here to see. A number of blue lights emerged above the rows of heads as some of them held up cell phone cameras. One chubby man shuffled to the front of the crowd with a state-of-the-art video camera, prepared to record the show in high definition. Finally, Nina returned, striding proudly forward and holding a leash in her hand. The crowd "oohed" and "aahed" at the sight.

The woman on the end of the leash followed behind Nina, walking a lot less proudly and obviously intimidated by the amount of people in the room. The young red-haired woman was dressed in a babyish satin pink skirt and matching ballet top, contrasting completely with the rest of the sophisticated apparel of everyone around her. The dress hugged her body and puffed out around her waist in ruffles of white lace. They admired her bare white legs. Her feet were clad in a pair of white cotton ankle socks that frilled over the tops of a pair of matching pink pumps, mixing provocative sexual appeal with her otherwise girlish outfit. Her hair too had been adorned with fuchsia ribbons, holding her hair in two burgundy bunches. The crowd gazed at her exquisite youthful beauty as they parted to let the women through and the man with the camcorder followed them with his lens.

There's so MANY of them...

As they reached the middle of the room, Nina undid the collar around Stephanie's neck and retreated to the Madame's side, standing with her hands behind her back to await any further orders. Snyde raised a hand to her new recruit.

"Everyone, meet Stephanie. Doesn't she look cute?"

The party agreed with loud approval, circling the woman and straining to get a good view.

"So sweet in her little skirt! Go on, give us a turn. Show everyone how pretty you are."

Stephanie gulped, the expressionless masks surrounding her like ghosts. Slowly, she turned around, feeling acutely self-conscious. The strangers watched her every move.

"What does everyone think?" Snyde asked the mob. "Do you like her little outfit?"

"No!" a male voice shouted from near the back, already a little tipsy. "Show us your tits!"

A mutter of agreement rose up, nervous and excited.

"Ok, ok!" the Madame smiled. "After all, I wouldn't be a very good host if I didn't give you what you wanted. Stephanie, take off the top."

The girl pulled the bottom of her top up, stretching it over her head and discarding it onto the floor, leaving Stephanie standing half naked in front of the room. As they had suspected, she wasn't wearing a bra, treating them to the first glimpse of her soft milky breasts. At her mistress's command, she again turned in a circle so that everyone could see her.

"Awww!" cried out one of the women in mock sympathy. "She has such little boobies!"

Stephanie blushed and the crowd burst into laughter.

"Ha! There's barely anything there!" the woman's husband exclaimed. "Does she wear a training bra?!"

More loud guffaws rang out as Stephanie was subjected to a string of derisive comments about her lack of big curves. Back when she was at high school, she had been on the other side of this very same situation, leading a mob of people to bully the unpopular girls in her class and mocking their looks from the sidelines. She never thought she would one day end up like them.

"Oh, I do hate to have my guests feel let down," Snyde said sarcastically. "Stephanie, how dare you disappoint them!...Why don't you apologize for having such tiny little titties?"

"I'm sorry for having such tiny little titties," she said meekly, her face contorting in dismay.

"Louder!"

"I'm sorry for having such tiny little titties!"

"They can't hear you in the back!"

"I'M SORRY FOR HAVING SUCH TINY LITTLE TITTIES!!!"

Again the room erupted with laughter. All of the guests were lapping up the woman's humiliation and seemed eager to keep cranking up the heat. Still, no one was more eager than Snyde herself.

"Yes, as well you should be. Nina! Come forward and show the room what a real woman's tits look like."

The exotic babe stepped into the center ring and pushed up her already fulsome breasts, eliciting a cheer. Snyde took Stephanie by the arm and stood her next to the more experienced slavegirl, then walked behind Nina and reached up underneath her breasts, groping them softly.

"You see? This is what a pair of tits looks like. Big and bouncy and ready to fuck a hard prick." Snyde pressed Nina's globes together, demonstrating how that debauched activity might look. Then she let them drop and stepped behind Stephanie, again reaching up and pawing the goods.

"But these...I mean, what are these even meant to be?..." the domme pinched both of Stephanie's nipples hard and tugged them, making their owner squirm. "...these are pathetic!" She slapped them roughly before taking a step back. "Worship Nina's breasts. Show them how much you wish you were half the woman she is."

The redhead turned to her counterpart and cupped the heavy mounds of flesh, using her hands to knead and caress them. Nina was clearly enjoying this development and Stephanie could have sworn the girl's eyes flashed at her with smug contentment. Trying not to think about it too much, she leaned down, kissing the skin as she knew she must, pressing her mouth around the soft curves and circling the dark areola with her tongue. She switched from one side to the other, smothering herself in the valley of her bosom. The sapphic display geared the crowd up even more and they moved in closer, like sharks smelling blood.

"Take off the skirt!" cried out a voice from somewhere in the room.

Snyde shrugged, happy with their enthusiasm, and separated the women. "Do it."

The skirt came down. This time, she had at least been allowed to maintain a sliver of modesty by wearing a pair of panties. Unfortunately, like the dress, they were as equally pink and prissy, laced with frills and tight fitting enough to ride up the crevasses they were designed to hide. A tiny bow above her crotch rounded off the look.

"Oooh!" one of the women snickered. "What pretty panties she's wearing! But does the carpet match the drapes?"

"I shouldn't think so. She's completely hairless down there." replied Snyde.

"Show us!" screamed a voice.

"Yeah, show us!" came another.

Any chance she'll let me off this time?...

The Madame dipped a finger at Stephanie's crotch, ordering her to lower them just a few inches so that she could prove her point. They fell to her creamy thighs and, sure enough, the guests were provided a perfect view of a gleaming bald cunt. Camera lights flashed as a few of the people captured the girl's nudity on their phones. The ordeal was beginning to arouse Stephanie against her will. She wanted to resist but she knew better by now. Nothing could stop her body from giving itself to an experience like this, especially not one of such intense public disgrace. She wondered if the dozens of eyes glaring at her pussy would be able to notice its excitement.

"I think everyone can see that you're not such a goody two shoes," said Snyde. "You're really a very bad girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, miss," Stephanie replied.

"And what do bad girls like to do?"

"...Get fucked, miss?"

"Indeed they do! And where do bad girls like you like to get fucked?"

"...erm...In...In the ass, miss."

"You hear that everyone? She likes to get fucked in the arse!" Snyde beamed, encouraging more whoops from her friends. "You've been doing a lot of that recently, haven't you?"

"Yes, miss."

"But, my! I don't think everyone has seen your ass yet! Why don't you go and show each of my guests your tight little butthole, one by one? Ask them if they've seen it. Because they really should!"

"Yes, mistress."

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie approached a nearby group of people who were all clearly very amused at the performance. She turned, bending over and reaching back to spread her cheeks wide apart, revealing her winking anus. Looking over her shoulder, she posed the question with an embarrassed look on her face.

"Have you seen my tight little butthole?" she asked them.

The guests laughed, nodding to confirm that, yes, they certainly have. Stephanie then moved to the next group of people and the next, spreading her ass and asking the same humiliating question only to receive laughter and derision every time. Some of the guests made sneering responses, commenting that it "isn't that tight" or suggesting they loosen it up for her. One woman was sent into such a fit of giggles by the girl's routine that she almost spat out her drink. Stephanie ended up giving everyone in the crowd a firsthand inspection of her asshole until Snyde finally let her return to the middle of the room.

"Now kneel before my dear friends," her mistress commanded. "That's it...and on all fours. Lift those hips."

The lady in red glared down at her bowing subject. As the girl felt the soft fibers of the Persian rug sink between her fingers, she didn't see the woman point a remote control towards the back of the room where a wardrobe folded back to reveal a huge widescreen TV.

"I'm not sure my guests believe you yet, so it's probably best I show them what a dirty girl you are."

The audience didn't need any more baiting but they whooped cheerfully at the suggestion. Suddenly, a woman's voice could be heard crying out above the noise.

'I want you to fill me with black cock!'

Stephanie recognized the voice but it took a few seconds to realize who it belonged to. From the floor, she couldn't see much beyond the people immediately in front of her, who were now turning to see what was happening on the screen.

"Make some room, people. Let her see," Snyde called out to them. The sea parted and even before the TV came into focus, Stephanie knew what everyone else could see...herself, naked and sandwiched between two muscular black men. Her face reddened as the guests watched the homemade tape, clearly amused by the sight of the young woman on screen moaning like a whore.

"Now we know what she likes!" the mistress said, turning a sneer to Stephanie. "Does that turn you on? I want you to show us...Keep watching the screen. Stick a hand between your legs and start wanking. That's it! Get yourself off to your own porno."

It was an exquisitely embarrassing situation. Stephanie obediently parted her lips and began to tickle her twat, masturbating publically as her time with Tyrone and his gang played out in front of her. The partygoers were now split between two erotic displays: watching the woman pleasure herself on the floor or watching her getting double-stuffed on the flatscreen. By the time third man entered the frame and positioned himself in front of her face, the guests were feeling hot and playful themselves.

Several of the couples had begun to kiss and pet each other. One woman was openly stroking her man's rod beneath his trousers, loosening him up for some fun.

Madame Snyde took a sip from her glass and then nodded to her expert slave. "Nina, go and choose a willing participant and show them how you work that luscious whore mouth of yours."

The brunette went into action, moving seductively around the circle as the guests either implored her to give them her attention or timidly giggled, not wanting to be the first to get involved in the frolics. Nina stopped at one of the sofas, where a man sat confidently, his legs spread apart. She tested him, stroking his thighs and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. Having found her first lucky contestant, she sank to her knees and hurriedly unzipped his pants, pulling out an already thickening cock. Without hesitation, she gave it a long lick from base to tip and then consumed it in one, rapidly working it up to full attention with her warm mouth. The other men watched enviously but enjoyed the sight none the less.

On the floor, Stephanie was still frigging her clit and her engorged pussy lips were glistening. Her mistress had reminded her that there was to be no orgasm. Instead, she groaned in frustration, her fingers plunging deeper inside her while the sounds of her loud grunts continued to blast from the TV speakers. The video went on recounting her disgraceful time as Tyrone's prostitute.

'Jizz in my mouth!!'

She wished the ground would swallow her up as the audience erupted in applause as the video recounted her disgrace, each man pumping his seed into her simultaneously.

"That's enough, slut. Come here," the mistress said sharply. Breathless and horny, Stephanie felt her hair being pulled by her mistress's cruel hand and crawled towards a couch, where Snyde had found a man in a bird-like mask, his long crooked beak almost hiding the wide grin beneath. She took him more tenderly by the hand and guided him to his feet. "Here. This gentleman is a good friend. I don't expect him to be disappointed."

Stephanie fidgeted, her eyes darting to the grandfather clock. She hadn't been to the bathroom in four hours and the weight of her bladder was making her feel uncomfortable. In the past week, Madame Snyde had invented a new rule, restricting Stephanie's bathroom breaks to only four times a day: 10 AM, 1.30 AM, 5 PM and 9 PM. Anything other than these times was off limits without special dispensation. Now that it was approaching 9 o'clock, she wanted to make sure she didn't get embedded in an uncomfortable situation, especially in front of so many people. She decided she may as well try to seize a moment of respite before her next act.

"I promise I won't disappoint, miss, but may I please go to the bathroom first?" she asked, nervously.

Snyde looked up at the clock too. "It's only 8.45. Why would I allow such a thing?"

"I really need to go, my queen. And if you would be so generous as to let me, it would help me to...perform...to the best of my abilities."

"The answer is no! Now get over here and put your mouth to good use and only then will I consider letting you take a break."

Knowing she had to bite the bullet and try to ignore her personal needs, Stephanie quickly positioned herself in front of him on her knees, fumbling for his belt buckle. Eager to begin, he helped her loosen his pants until they dropped to his ankles, unleashing a large cock that needed no preparation. His 8 inches were already rock hard and Stephanie clasped it in her hand, looking up at him with her stunning blue eyes.

"Please may I suck on your lollipop, sir?" she asked, putting on an innocent voice.

"Fuck yeah," the man grunted, gripping one of her bunches in each hand and pressing her face against his groin. Needing no further approval, she opened her mouth and let him thrust inside. Stephanie bobbed her head back and forth, building a steady rhythm and feeling the head of his cock hit the back of her throat whenever he felt like he wanted more.

Meanwhile Nina had moved to the floor, lying on her back as she entertained a man and a woman at the same time. The man she had been sucking off earlier had now moved on top of her, fucking her tits just as Snyde had recommended. As he did, he passionately kissed his partner, a middle aged woman who herself had hiked up her dress and was now boldly straddling Nina's face, feeling the magic of her tongue on her female parts.

Stephanie's recipient was now forcefully fucking her face but before he could blow his load, Snyde gently placed her hand on his shoulder and yanked the slave's head back. A long string of drool hung from her lip as she coughed from the vigor of his assault.

"Not too soon, old chap," said the Madame "Surely you want to test out that arse of hers?"

He agreed that he did and Snyde was happy to oblige him, pulling Stephanie towards a couch and making her crawl up until she was kneeling on the cushion and bent over invitingly, her panties still hanging loose around her thighs and her head pushed down on the seat. The older woman spun around, finding the man with the video camera and making sure he was close enough to get a good angle.

"Would you like your little bottom fucked, Stephanie?" she asked, speaking loudly so the camera would pick her up.

"Yes, miss." The lens zoomed in on the nervous crystal blue eyes.

"Well you'd better ask him politely!"

"Please, sir," Stephanie begged, parting her cheeks again. "Please will you fuck my bottom?"

"I suppose I better!" laughed the bird man, stepping forward and planting one foot up on the cushion and giving the camera a good view as he pushed his slick penis against her ass. Just as she'd said, it was still tight. But a few increasingly hard shoves and thrusts enabled him to penetrate her before long.

Stephanie gasped as she felt him break through her ring, squeezing his thick veiny cock up her back passage. Cheers went up as he planted himself inside her until his balls were firmly pressed against her pussy. Slowly, he began to glide in and out, quickening his pace gradually as her forbidden hole accepted him. Very soon, the camera was filming the man plowing hard into her, a relentless tempo accompanied by the sounds of slapping and moaning from both participants. The others urged the man on, amazed by how much she could take.

Eventually, she was as loose for him as she could be and he tested the limits of her muscles, occasionally pulling all the way out and leaving her asshole gaping open, before plunging back inside. He grabbed her bunches like handlebars, pulling her back onto him and she responded by fucking him back. Feeling his legs getting tired, the man then withdrew and pulled her up off the couch, switching places so that he could sit down and she could do the hard work.

She did this to his liking, letting his strong hands twirl her around to face the mob and making her straddle him cowgirl style. With legs spread and both feet up on the cushion, the video camera had unimpeded access to her open cunt, which seemed to be crying out for its own visitor. But that would have to wait. Stephanie leaned back, propping her hands behind her and sitting down carefully on his dick until he impaled her again. Like a veteran pornstar, she bounced her butt up and down, fucking her own ass with his engorged member.

Within minutes, he was ready to climax. Rather than empty himself inside her, he instead pushed her forward, making her arms shoot out and steady herself by planting her hands on the floor. He sat up, rubbing his cock energetically as her open asshole quivered in front of him and with a howl he shot his load on and around the reddened opening. More cheers. More humiliation.

"Not so tight or little now, is it?" chuckled the Madame, eyeing her freshly iced ring.

"No, miss," Stephanie admitted, her voice shaking.

"Right then...who's next?!"

The evening wore on.

By now, both slavegirls had been put through an exhausting series of sexual encounters, performing for the audience like puppets. Nina had demonstrated her full range of experience, eagerly sucking and fucking whoever was put in front of her and experiencing no less than three wonderful orgasms throughout. Her body was covered in a thin coat of perspiration and other bodily fluids but she didn't seem to want to stop.

Stephanie on the other hand was suffering silently at the whim of the people, her body craving more but her mind wanting to fling herself from one of the large classic windows into the darkness beyond. Despite pleasuring a number of strangers that night, she had only been permitted to cum once. But even that single release had felt like a sudden oasis of unimaginable rapture, transcending her away from the reality of her situation and for a few blissful seconds sending her to a heavenly place.

Another man finished himself on her face, spraying her features with streams of gloopy cream. As he relaxed, staggering back to zip himself up, Stephanie decided she should try to seize the moment and use her allocated break for the evening.

"May I please use the bathroom now, miss?" she asked Madame Snyde, her chin dripping cum.

Snyde glanced up at the clock, the hands reading 10.00. She took a silk handkerchief and wiped Stephanie's dry face before peering down at it. "Ten o'clock. Looks like you missed your slot," the domme said, her eyes twinkling with malice.

Wait...what?!

Stephanie's heart stopped. Was she joking? She couldn't possibly be expected to wait until tomorrow morning...

And then it all made sense. Of course she didn't. She wanted to test her limits in front of a room full of people or watch her fail, all in another game to extend her suffering into new levels of humiliation. Already, Stephanie's bloated bladder was aching, holding five hours of liquids inside.

You can do this. Just hold on!

"Stand up," Snyde commanded. "I'll let you take a short break but you're not leaving this room until all of my guests have had their fill. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, miss."

"Perhaps you could wait over there near the bar while we all take a few minutes. I think everyone needs their drinks refreshed anyway." The flame-haired slave stood up on her sore legs. Her need to pee was distracting but she knew she needed to concentrate. As she began to make her way to a space on the hardwood floor, Snyde grabbed her wrist. "Not like that, slut. Have some decorum and put your knickers on," she said, tossing the underwear to her.

Stephanie pulled the girlish pink panties back on and slinked through the crowd, who followed behind, gathering around her in a new circle. She stood patiently before them as Nina returned to the bar, taking more drinks orders.

You can do it. These people won't be here all night...will they?

But looking around the room, no one seemed even close to wanting to leave. And the clock seemed to move so slowly. How much longer could she last? An hour? Two hours? It seemed impossible...

Stephanie's heart pounded hard in her chest. When the guests received a new drink at the bar, they returned to watch her, chatting among themselves in hushed tones. She needed to use the restroom. She needed to use it right now. Prunella Snyde swanned by, checking that her guests were happy.

"Please..." she muttered, her voice strained. "PLEASE..."

"What's that?" Snyde said casually, pretending not to hear.

You can't do this to me...

"Please, miss. I beg you. Please let me use the bathroom. I'll only be a minute..."

"Oh for heaven's sake! No more complaining! I don't want to hear another peep from you." The Madame opened her hand, revealing something small inside of it. "Fortunately, I have just the thing to help. Open your mouth."

The young woman saw her mistress's hand reach for her face and popped the baby's pacifier between her lips. Stephanie cringed with embarrassment as the guests pointed and laughed at her. The plastic nipple prevented her from speaking but the Madame's orders had already prevented her from even trying to ask for permission again.

Looking decidedly ridiculous, Stephanie fidgeted on the spot and watched in quiet horror as the man with the camera emerged from the crowd and pointed his lens at her, forever capturing her shameful state of affairs. She wished he would go before it got any worse but deep down she knew it was about to. Her pussy tingled, desperate to relieve itself of the weight inside her and in response she began to shift from side to side, moving her feet up and down in an attempt to trick her body into forgetting about her problem.

COME ON! Stay focused!

For a while this seemed to help but as the minutes passed, the impromptu dance was becoming less and less effective. Stephanie then shifted her tactic, hoping to stem the sensation in her lower body. Her hands edged from her sides to the front of her and her fingers pressed in under crotch.

You don't need to go. You don't need to go. You don't need to go.

Again, this seemed to help for a while but still, the clock ticked. More and more guests were now watching Stephanie with interest, amused by her obvious need to pee and her inability to disobey the order to stay where she was. Worse still, they all slurped at straws and tinkled ice in their glasses, only adding to her torment.

Just breath. Deep breaths. Don't think about!

But she couldn't ignore it. The feeling inside her was all consuming. She could see the door at the side of the room and wished beyond anything else that she could just run to it and escape. The daydream didn't help either. Instead, a pang of discomfort made her clamp her hands harder to her crotch. Desperate, she pressed her knees together as hard as she could, her toes turning inwards.

Fuck, fuck ,fuck...

Prunella Snyde smirked, watching her with as much interest as everyone else from the sidelines. She too wondered how long this game would last. Stephanie was half squatting now, putting as much pressure as she could against the building pressure inside her. More minutes passed.

Fffuuuuckkk....pleeeaseeee....

She whined from behind the pacifier, face contorted in anguish. Her body was rocking on the spot and the crowd inched back slightly, sensing something was about to give. Her pelvic walls were squeezed as tight as possible.

Oh fuck...no, please...not like this...not in front of all these people...

But it was no use. In a final whine of defeat, the dam finally gave way. The first thing Stephanie felt was the warmth, running between her fingers and along the inside of her panties. Then the force of the leak picked up and the trickle became a flood. She heard the sound of liquid drumming against the wooden floor and then streams of it sliding down the insides of her legs. It gushed out of her and the sudden intense relief of the pressure felt like an orgasm, treating her to a few seconds of euphoric freedom.

Not that it lasted long. After the initial release, the urine just kept flowing like it would never stop and Stephanie was left standing in the middle of the room, wetting herself in front of an audience for the best part of a minute. The piss soaked into her socks and pooled on the floor around her. It crept up her panties, turning the fabric translucent and making it cling to her curves. Finally, as the torrent began to peter out, Stephanie grimaced with shame. The guests were in hysterics, amazed that a grown woman had just disgraced herself in front of them.

"Oh dear!" Madame Snyde purred, looking down at the puddle as Stephanie's face turned a deep shade of crimson. "Peeing your panties like a little girl? You should be ashamed of yourself. And just look at the mess you've made of my floor!"

Nina supplied Stephanie with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaning spray and Snyde ordered Stephanie to clean up, forcing her onto all fours to stretch out her embarrassment. Still dripping wet, the once proud woman mopped up her own pee, its acrid smell invading her nostrils as she worked her way through sheet after sheet of the paper.

"Nina! Get over here and bring the case!"

Case?...What now?

Stephanie finished her humbling task and watched as Nina spread out a mat over the polished wooden surface.

"Well, if you can't be trusted to act like a big girl, we'll just have to treat you otherwise," the Madame grinned, goading more laughter from the audience.

With that, Nina helped Stephanie lie back on the mat and proceeded to remove the sodden panties. She felt utterly degraded as she realized what was coming. For her part, Nina's haughty expression seemed to have vanished and Stephanie wondered for a moment whether part of her fellow slavegirl was jealous of the attention she had received over the evening. But loyal as ever, Nina made no objection. Instead, she pushed Stephanie's legs up and ran a baby wipe over her wet area, cleansing her skin and sending inappropriate tingles through Stephanie's cunt. Despite all the suffering, her body was still aroused.

Nina then dusted the woman's private parts with talcum powder and for the final indignity, laid out an adult-sized diaper underneath her. Stephanie winced as she felt the padded garment being wrapped around her and taped down.

The humiliation was excruciating. With a final smack of her hand against Stephanie's freshly diapered butt, Snyde ordered her new slavegirl to serve her punishment in the corner of the room and invited her guests to continue their fun.

"Anyone for another drink?"

The tall thin man in the gray cloak and horned devil mask clinked his glass to Prunella Syde's.

"My congratulations, Prunella. I have to say I'm very impressed with the level of submissiveness in your new catch. It was just as you'd said."

Throughout the evening, he had been the only guest to not partake in some way in the evening's physical festivities, choosing instead to observe quietly from the margins.

"Thank you, old friend. So what do you think? Do you wish to find a place for her for a few weeks?"

He thought for a moment, swirling the whiskey in his tumbler.

"I think that goes without saying...although I have one reservation."

"And what would that be?"

"Well," he said, the sides of his mouth curling up, "she does have such little breasts. Usually my clientele prefer a bit more to hold onto."

"Say no more. I'm sure we can arrange to fix that. When would be a good time to visit your office?"

"Give me a month or two. I need time to prepare. In fact, I may even start tonight. As always, it's been a pleasure."

The man rose, setting his glass down and taking her hand in his to peck a gentle kiss on her knuckle. Then he headed for the exit. He glanced back just once at the room before he left, seeing Stephanie in the corner, sucking the cock of yet another perverted stranger.

Yes, he thought to himself. She'll do just fine.

In the weeks that followed, Stephanie was forced into a punishing new routine. Not satisfied with simply restricting her bathroom breaks, Madame Snyde insisted that she work her way back up to the privilege of being allowed to use a toilet. Her new game was the ultimate combination of control and humiliation.

Stephanie began at Level One, which put her in diapers at all times. The rest of her outfit was matched to this style, frequently involving a bib, a pacifier and any number of other infant accessories the Madame had picked out for her. For three full days, she was banned from any other option but to make use of the diaper and although she was not limited to relieving herself at only four times a day, the excruciating shame of soiling herself and having to be changed like a baby kept her from being careless when it came to her basic needs.

After those three days, she would be automatically upgraded to Level Two. This is when the test really kicked in. The diapers were put away and exchanged for 'big girl' underwear, usually a small pair of the most girlish panties the Madame could find. But the concession came with its own drawbacks. The four times a day restriction of twice before noon and twice after was reinstated and Stephanie would have to suffer through her daily chores with at least part of her concentration constantly dedicated to where the hands on the clock were pointed. When those times came, Stephanie would have to ask permission from her domme and if granted, she would then race to fetch a plastic child's potty, taking it to Snyde and using it to relieve herself in front of the older woman's watchful gaze. Once done, she would have to clean the potty out herself and resume her duties until the next embarrassing session. However, failing to hold out until her dedicated time would see her bumped back down to Level One and the process would start again.

If she could last three days without incident, she would be upgraded to Level Three, she would once again be allowed to use the regular toilet, along with wearing her normal outfits and even granted one extra daily release time of her choosing. Despite these new freedoms, she was still bound to requesting permission to go and would still have to relieve herself in full view of her mistress as a constant reminder of her lowly place. And still, should she fail to keep to her schedule, she could be cruelly bumped back down all the way to Level One.

In the weeks that followed the party, Stephanie failed to get to Level Three a total of five times. The terrible feeling of having to start the trial from scratch hurt her a little more on each occasion. The first time she actually reached Level Three, she thought she was home free and that the worst had to be over. But out of sheer sadistic enjoyment, Snyde soon spent an evening making Stephanie drink pints of water, until it became too much for her to retain and she wet herself while serving the domme her late night cup of earl gray. To her dismay, Stephanie was ordered to clean herself up and fetch the diaper bag, demoting her back to at least another six days of harrowing indignity.

More than a month had passed when Madame Snyde brought new guests to the house. The two couples were all in their twenties and good looking, decked out in designer clothes, whitened teeth and natural golden tans. The men were slightly older, Stephanie noticed as she served them drinks, while the women were stunning. They were all in the movie industry but exactly what that meant, Stephanie didn't know. Based on some of the discussion she had been able to hear, Snyde was helping to fund some project of theirs and Stephanie gathered that the men were producers and their partners apparently actresses doing their best to get their big break.

In another life, that could have been me. It SHOULD have been me. I could have been rich and famous and adored. Instead of...this...

"Girl! Tea! Now!" Snyde snapped, shaking the slavegirl out of her daydream and summoning her near. The young people eyed her awkwardly, familiar with Madame Snyde's private life but still a little unnerved by the casualness with which the older woman flaunted her love of domination. Even more peculiar to them was the odd but strangely sexy getup the young woman had on. Tiny pink panties, shiny black shoes, frilly lace socks and a bib around her collar, leaving her otherwise nude. They ignored her for the most part, going on with their conversation as Stephanie poured each of them a new cup, shuffling papers and folders around the mahogany coffee table. Her hands shook as she tipped the teapot and her legs seemed to be pressing tightly together.

"Be careful, Stephanie. Don't drip anything on these documents," Snyde said, noticing the girl's discomfort.

"Excuse me, miss. May I..." Stephanie hesitated, not wanting to ask in front of the guests. But the urge was intense and she couldn't miss her time. She was far too close to promotion to miss out now even though she knew what it would mean. "...May I please use the potty?"

The guests went quiet and one of the men spluttered, almost choking on his tea. Snyde looked at the clock and shrugged. "Very well. Be quick!"

Stephanie placed the teapot carefully back on the tray and hurried as quickly as she could on her heels towards the door. When she returned, she had the potty in her hands, ready to go. Without a second thought, she placed it on the ground in front of her mistress.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Snyde said, "if you need any further proof of the power I hold, pay attention. Slave, you may proceed."

Stephanie tugged her panties down to her ankles and quickly sat down on the plastic seat, her adult ass barely fitting over the pan and spilling over the sides. A second later, there came the hard drumming sound of her piss hitting the side of the bowl and Stephanie's face simultaneously turned to deep relief and severe shame.

"Oh my gawd!" one of the women laughed. "She's actually doing it! That's so...pathetic!" The others chuckled nervously, in awe of the authority this woman had placed over the girl.

"As you can see, my money and influence is not an issue. But I am not one to be played games with. This woman once made the mistake of wronging people close to me. I expect any investment I make in your business to be based on full trust. I keep my word and I expect my business partners to do the same, no exceptions."

The young men nodded, still half distracted by Stephanie's self-debasement.

"Holy fuck," the other woman muttered, seeing Stephanie biting her lip. "I hope that's all she's doing..."

But they didn't know how the game worked. There was no time for modesty. A vulgar slapping sound hit the bottom of the plastic basin.

"EEWW!" cried the woman, placing her hand to her face.

"Perhaps we'd better take this into the other room," Snyde said, standing and pointing the way to the study as the smell began to reach them. The men and women sprang up and rushed for the door, grabbing the documents. "Quickly, quickly."

As they left the room, Stephanie remained fixed to the potty, oblivious to the commotion and absorbed by her own minuscule moment of liberation.

Yes! Level Three! I made it to Level Three again! I knew I could do it!


Chapter 10: Bring Out the Gimp
Tags: MMMF+, mdom, BDSM, blowjob, anal, body modification

[Please note that this chapter has been edited to meet GaggedUtopia's submission standards. The uncensored version can be found online elsewhere]

The last thing she remembered was arriving at the clinic.

The white building was clean, welcoming and obviously well funded. Stephanie had been taken there before to get checked out after her month of being Tyrone's most popular street walker, making sure all of physical activity and dozens of sexual partners hadn't caused her any lasting problems. Luckily, she had been given the 'all clear' that time, assessed by a tall, sinister man who seemed to know Prunella Snyde well and had a knowing look about him as he made his inspection. Stephanie assumed they were there again for another round with the creepy doctor. She was only half right.

Inside the building, she waited in a comfortable lounge with Snyde sitting next to her, flipping through a copy of Vanity Fair. The mistress allowed her to accept a drink from the duty nurse while they waited. And then things got blurry. For the second time in her life, Stephanie's world went black and time disappeared.

Moments flashed by. Memories. Words. Sounds. Light through the windows.

When she came out of her daze, she recognized the familiar surroundings of Madame Snyde's mansion and immediately wished she had never woken up. Her body felt paralyzed and yet she ached.

What happened? Was I hurt? Are they helping me?

Then she slept again. A long sleep. Deep and filled with dreams of flying free and shrinking to the size of an ant and growing again until her head touched the clouds. Psychedelic colors burst around her and for a while, everything was wonderful.

She was still groggy when she came out of it. A little over a week had passed, Snyde told her, cradling her face in her hands and slowly helping her to stand. Something was different, Stephanie knew. Despite the soreness in her legs and the dizzy circles still weaving inside her brain, she could sense the difference.

And then she saw herself, placed in front of the mirror, with Madame Snyde's terrifying yet beautiful presence standing behind her and whispering in her ear. "Welcome back, my dear."

Stephanie's reflection stared back in a bemused haze, wearing a hospital gown open at the front. Snyde gently reached around her waist and parted the gown, revealing to her a body she almost didn't recognize.

Is this still a dream?

"What do you think?" Snyde asked, her malevolent smile sliding across her face. "Much better, wouldn't you say?"

Stephanie looked down at her new breasts. From a B-cup to a Double D. Perfectly and unnaturally round. Pert and firm. Creamy spheres softly defying gravity when she moved. They were still tender and the mistress stroked them lightly, soothing them with her long lustful fingers.

Oh my god...

She had always wanted bigger breasts but not like this. Like this, she had the look of a plastic porn star. Her body had been manipulated like her mind had been. Nothing belonged to her. She was a model, a doll, a toy built to please others. The world began to spin again and sleep returned like a vampire's kiss.

Darkness. Stillness. And silence apart from the sound of shallow breathing.

Then footsteps. Distant at first but louder with each step. Boots on wood. Coming closer.

Can't move.

Closer still. Then nothing for a few seconds. Until a sudden grinding sound like metal on metal, followed by a loud clunk and finally two more snaps and more creaking wood.

LIGHT!

...Too much light! Washing over everything. Trying to move again. But it's no use.

The man locked the door behind him and descended the staircase, rubbing his hands with anticipation. The large crate had been sitting in the corner for the past hour and as he approached, he saw the note pinned to the top of it, picked it up and read it again.

'Have fun! With love, Prunella.'

He smiled and let it fall to the floor. Turning the key in the big padlock until it dropped from the box with a thud, he then pulled back the locking hinges and finally lifted the lid open with both hands, pushing it back until it fell heavily against the wall.

Perfect, he thought to himself, peering inside. The figure struggled as the light hit her, wriggling like a worm. But the bonds kept her mostly restrained. He was glad to see that she had already been prepared and he could dispense with much of the hard work. He reached both arms inside and although he wasn't a large man, he had a lot of power in his wiry limbs, hooking them around her and lifting her up until she was standing.

Truly perfect. The woman was taller than he remembered thanks to the ballet boots, a pair of long black latex contraptions that stood her on 7 inch heels and encased her legs all the way up to the top of her thighs. Her waist was encased with a matching latex corset that cinched in her waist slightly and ended below her breasts, which were left entirely exposed. As her arms were pulled back and bound behind her in a tightly belted leather sleeve, her chest had no choice but to be pushed out prominently. There was equally nothing between the boots and the corset, displaying her most private areas and her oh-so-delicate milky white skin.

Her crystal blue eyes squinted back at him, still adjusting to the light. It was all he could see of her face as it too had been covered in latex in the form of a skin-tight black mask that left openings for the eyes, two tiny ones for the nostrils and one for the mouth. Not that the last one mattered. Her soft pink lips were stretched open wide and clamped around a bright red rubber ball gag.

One final hole in the mask was right on the top to allow her thick burgundy hair to run through, tied into a high ponytail. It gave her the appearance of a show horse. But that was not the animal he had in mind for her to play.

I know you, she suddenly realized. The...doctor.

He stared at her jutting breasts for a moment, admiring his own work and running a finger gently around the areola of one of the enhanced globes. Yes, good work. Well constructed...She flinched at his touch. He liked that. His finger moved upwards, wiping away a thin thread of drool that was hanging from the bottom of the gag and licking it from his nail. She tasted just like he had imagined. Like fear.

The final adornment was the familiar pink collar around her neck. He unwrapped a chain leash from his pocket and hooked the end to the front ring, then guided her out of the box. She was careful not to fall as she stepped over the side but her boots made balance difficult and she moved like a newborn deer. But again, that was not the animal he had in mind for her.

She could see she was in some sort of basement, wooden beams holding up the ceiling and only artificial light coming from bare bulbs above them. As he walked her through to another room, the blue eyes darted about, taking in her surroundings. The smell of sawdust. And rubber. Not just the rubber from her own outfit but also from rubber flooring. And something else...medicinal? It was only then that she began to notice the items in the room. The bars and hooks. The chains. Whips. Cuffs. Wheeled trays full of strange instruments and toys. A metal stand with some sort of rubber bottle and hose hanging from it. The eyes widened.

He walked her to an old barrel in the middle of the room, placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her over it until her stomach pressed against the oak, bending her at the waist. She felt him crouch down behind her and pull her feet apart to strap her ankles to the floor, immobilizing her legs. Then he appeared in front of her, pulling the leash down and bending her even more forward. Her neck strained as he yanked her head down and hooked the other end of the leash to a ring in the floor.

Unable to move, the position forced her trembling ass into the air and left her openings completely vulnerable. The man ran his hands over her buttocks, squeezing them. Then she heard the sound of his buckle being undone, his zipper opening and his pants lowering. He grinned to himself and pointed a remote control to a stereo system sitting in the corner of the room. A female voice burst out from the speakers.

'Destination unknown, known, known, known known...'

Then the beat kicked in. A strange dance beat accompanied by an eerie saxophone. The music surrounded them as his hands returned to her ass. She felt his already hard manhood press against her crack and slide down along it until its tip was resting against her anus.

"Open wide!" he shouted above the noise.

With a forceful shove, he began to penetrate her dry. The sudden pain made her scream behind the rubber ball but she could barely be heard.

"Yeah, I like it when they scream," said the man as he squeezed further inside. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him until the base of his cock was pressed against her skin. Then he began to pump his hips, in and out, loosening her hole with each unforgiving thrust.

'...I left my job, my boss, my car and my home

I'm leaving for a destination I still don't know

Somewhere nobody must have duties at home

And if you like this, you can follow me, so let's go...'

He sodomized her to the rhythm of the music. The mix of the pain and the wailing instruments and the bizarre environment made her wonder for a moment if she was hallucinating. But the physical sensation of his cock pounding into her ass soon snapped her out of any delusions. She grunted heavily each time he drove into her.

"No! That's not the sound a pig makes when it gets fucked. I wanna hear you SQUEAL! Squeal, piggy, Squeal!!"

The smack of his palm against her ass cheek convinced her that he wasn't going to ask again and she cried out from under the gag in her best imitation of a hog, a high-pitched shriek emanating from the back of her throat.

"EEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The squeals made him thrust harder and faster and she could feel his dick grow a little more. It was barely any comfort that at around 5 inches, his cock wasn't particularly big, at least not compared to some of the men she'd been accommodating recently. He still seemed to know exactly how to use it. After a while, he was sliding in and out with ease, allowing himself to pull all the way out a few times to watch her reddened asshole gape open and then slowly shrink half-closed before he plunged back inside.

Eventually, he pulled out and relaxed and she thought he might have exhausted himself. He shuffled around in front of her and she strained her neck to look up at him. The scared eyes tracked the man's movements as he tore open a condom packet, letting her watch as he discarded the wrapper on the floor and rolled the latex sheath over his erect prick. She breathed slightly easier. At least he didn't want to cum inside her. Another miniscule mercy.

But then the man grinned his sinister smile, his yellow teeth glinting under the light of a hanging bulb. He reached for another item from the tray in front of her and picked up a small red bottle. Twisting the green cap off and sprinkling a few drops of crimson liquid onto the tip of his shaft. She could just make out the label on the bottle as he placed it back on the tray...

NO! NO, NOT THAT!

She tried to thrash but the binds made it impossible. His cock pressed against her weakened asshole again and plowed forward. At first, it felt no different. Then, seconds later, the slow burn of the hot sauce rose from her sphincter and right through her anal tract as his shaft hammered in and out. As he continued to butt-fuck her, she allowed herself to cry out again, only this time her farm animal squeals were even louder. Almost real.

"EEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The stinging sensation was unbearable. Her body quivered and spasmed as the pain took hold as if her insides were on fire. Still he fucked her, relentless and uncaring. Her eyes rolled back and her buttocks tensed. The feeling of her rear muscles squeezing around his dick quickly took him to the edge. He growled with pleasure as her anal walls milked him, making him shoot jets of cum into the tip of the sheath.

He leaned over her, resting and breathing heavily against her neck. Feeling her body still jerking, he withdrew and, taking just a moment to compose himself and buckle his pants, went to fetch the steel medical stand. The sound of its wheels squeaked as they rolled across the floor.

"What's the matter, slut? Can't stand the heat?...Well that's ok. I have just the solution."

He lowered the long plastic tube down and inserted the cold nozzle into her back passage, making sure it was in firmly. Then he twisted several levers along the length of the hose, allowing the liquid inside the upturned bottle to flow through.

Stephanie instantly felt the milk rush into her, flooding through her bowels. It immediately began to soothe her as it diluted the devilish pepper sauce. For a few wonderful seconds, the pain subsided and her body relaxed in relief. However the moment was short-lived and soon she began to feel the liquid growing heavy inside her and a dull ache begin to take its place.

Sensing her discomfort, the man checked the quantity left in the bag and finally twisted the lever shut.

"Don't you dare let a single drop out."

She wouldn't. God knows what the punishment for that would be. Carefully, he removed the nozzle. Her ass obediently tightened as best it could, preventing any of the milk from leaking out. Satisfied, he stripped a length of duct tape off a fresh roll and pressed it over her orifice.

His hands were soon on her again, this time removing the leash from the ring in the floor and unthreading the sleeve that had kept her arms bound behind her. Slowly, he pulled her back to a standing position. The movement made her ache, her body not used to being kept in such awkward positions. As she straightened up, the milk sloshed in her belly, which was now slightly bloated.

Her shoulders, back and arms also ached and creaked as the sleeve came away. He pushed her arms forward to help her readjust, then raised them above her head. The moment of relief passed as she felt straps hanging from the ceiling being tightened around her wrists, stretching her up. Her feet were still held to the floor and she was soon returned to a state of helplessness.

Stephanie needed no introduction to the next item on his list. The sting of the cat o' nine tails was a familiar one and always reminded her of first day in the possession of Prunella Snyde. He swung the whip hard against her body, targeting her tits.

"NNNGGGG!!!!"

The leather knots bit into her skin as his swung them against her. Her nipples had become hard and he took great pleasure in making contact with them, forcing her to let out a muffled shriek each time. Again and again he whipped her naked breasts, making them bounce from side to side, until they were soon crisscrossed with multiple pink lines.

The lashings then moved to the exposed flesh of her lower body. Almost worse than the shock of the tails was the waiting. She tensed her whole body each time he drew his arm back and he would wait a few seconds before swinging, sending waves of pain and pleasure through her. He lashed the skin between her open thighs and worked his way up to her bald cunt, which was now extremely sensitive. He circled around her, returning to her breasts for a while and then focused his energy on her quivering buttocks. Again and again came the whistle of the whip until they too bore the marks of his sadistic game.

When he decided her screams were beginning to diminish and her acceptance of the whip was starting to reveal itself, the man threw it to the floor and instead took two sling harnesses from the wall, hanging both in front of her from more clamps built into the ceiling and unclasping her ankles. He was not a big man but he was unexpectedly strong and had no trouble in lifting her up, pushing both legs through each of the loops. Her stomach strained with the movement but when she was eventually hoisted horizontally, gravity helped her keep control of the liquid inside.

Tightening the slings to the height he wanted, she was left swinging from the beams, her knees drawn up and wide apart as far as they would go. With a sudden harsh tug of the tape affixed to her asshole, he pulled it away, causing her to jolt. Somehow she recovered her senses quickly enough to clamp down and prevent herself from releasing the milk. Her private holes were as exposed as they could possibly be and her body was curved so far inwards she could smell her own juices flowing just inches away from her nostrils. The eyes swiveled about again, wondering what was next...

The man reached into his pocket and retrieved something that looked like a bullet, an egg-shaped metal device. Placing it directly onto her pink clitoris, he took another length of duct tape and pressed this over the device, firmly securing the cold metal gadget. He caressed her again and grinned wickedly before taking what looked like a remote control. A single flick of his thumb made the toy whir to life, humming gently and instantly releasing endorphins through her veins.

She murmured from behind the gag. The buzz of the metal arousing her more with every minute. It was shaming to her to feel so turned on while being abused by this stranger but her body always betrayed her mind and would never allow logic to overpower the waves of pleasure cascading through her nerves.

He pressed the remote a second time and the hum grew louder. She writhed suddenly, feeling it vibrate faster, making her clit expand as much as it could beneath the tape. Her pussy swelled, beads of fluid forming on her lips.

"Don't you dare cum," he warned her abruptly.

The blue eyes opened and flickered around, panicking. How long could she keep herself calm enough? She was about to find out. His thumb twitched again and the buzz grew louder still.

Murmurs turned to moans as Stephanie did her best to keep her body under control. The tiny device of pleasure had now become one of torment. Rhythmic bursts of gratification surged through her nerve endings and as each moment passed, she felt less and less able to hold out. Her eyes tightened to try to focus. But he pressed the button again and the gadget pulsated harder.

She squealed as the movement went up another notch and he repeated his warning. Eyebrows crinkled under her mask. The waves of bliss were relentless and wanted her to submit to them. Every muscle in her body tensed. After a few minutes, his thumb moved again.

Now she was whining loudly and shaking desperately in her bonds. Juice trickled from her pussy like a leaky faucet. She couldn't last much longer.

"NNNNGGHH! NGGGHHHH!!!!" her stifled voice pleaded, begging him to stop. But once more, he pushed the button.

Top speed. The device sounded like it was about to take off. Her legs bucked and she swang wildly. But her resistance was useless. It was all too much.

She let out a long moan and with a sudden spasm, her pussy burst open like a broken dam. It sprayed hard onto the floor as she was overcome by the intense orgasm. The powerful release pushed her over the edge and her asshole gave out too, ejecting an arc of dirty milk at the same time, showering the rubber floor. The seconds of extreme relief were like paradise, only to be slowly replaced with a sense of doom as she realized she had shamefully lost all control. She whimpered in defeat as she watched herself continue to let go, ejaculating pathetically out of both holes.

"Oh dear. Look what a mess you've made," the man smirked, finally switching off the bullet. "That will mean a punishment."

He took her down one leg at a time and methodically untied her wrists. She felt like she'd been emptied, flushed out. He picked up the arm sleeve again, securing her back into it, tightening every strap. Then the leash hooked onto her collar again and she was walked back into the side room and told to get back in the box.

"I'll be down in a few hours to feed you. Until then...get used to the dark."

The lid closed once more, drowning out the light and banging shut. Footsteps. Creaking floorboards. Darkness. Still. And then only the sound her heavy breathing.

Being fed in the basement of the man known only to her as "the Doctor" meant having to eat sloppy pureed food from a bowl on the floor or suck a blended concoction through a straw. As food went, it tasted ok and her tormentor told her that it was highly nutritious so she wasn't allowed to skip out on any meals. Her other basic needs were filled by the use of a bucket in the corner of the room. Once in a while he would take her to a shower unit somewhere outside in a closed off building away from any prying eyes and spray her down with cold water. To follow, she would be doused in some sort of antibacterial powder and hosed again before being returned to her box.

In between seeing to her fundamental health and survival, she was his to do as he pleased and often that meant nothing more than being flogged, spanked or fucked. To say he was light on conversation was an understatement. Instead, his only words to her were commands or ridicule, reinforcing her place as his personal sex doll.

A week into her captivity in the Doctor's lair, Stephanie finally felt so numb and inhuman, she barely registered any emotion at being strung up again, her hands chained above her head and her legs spread out by a metal bar clamped between her ankles. But she watched. He made her watch. The surgical tray he kept topped with goodies sat directly in front of her and she watched him pull a pair of rubber gloves on and prep a pincer like device with a bottle of antiseptic. Fear in her eyes told him she was alert and ready as he rolled his thumb and finger around her left breast, making her nipple protrude.

He took hold of it, tugging it towards him, making her gasp underneath the ballgag. She could only watch as he smothered it with alcohol and then teased the ends of the needled claws to it. He hadn't told her not to scream and when she did, it was muffled by the gag and the walls and the barren land around the building. No one could hear her except the Doctor and he enjoyed the music of her futile wailing. Each nipple was pierced through and inserted into the holes were a pair of small metal hoops.

Smiling at the decorations, he then wiped the pinchers again and crouched to observe her shaking womanhood. She looked down beyond her swaying tits and whined into the gag, begging for mercy. That only worked to do the opposite. He masturbated her gently for a while with his fingertips, overwhelming the panic and pain. Soon, he had her precious clitoris pinched between his fingers and moments later, her distorted screams reverberated again along the wooden beams above them. A third hoop adorned her most sensitive spot.

Stephanie's head dropped and she slipped in and out of consciousness as he swabbed the pincers once more. He realized it would be easier for both of them this way and he took her ponytail in his hand, using it to lean her head back and hold her in place. She could vaguely feel a tickle. The metal instrument was pressing into her nostrils, gripping her septum. She awoke in another spark of white pain only to disappear into abyss again. The fourth and final ring dangled from her nose.

The Doctor cleaned the piercings and left her to sleep for a few minutes until he could numb the areas as much as possible with anesthetic cream. Then he half woke her again with a few slaps to her face and body, stirring her back into cold reality. He wasn't done yet. His pincers were placed back on the tray and he exchanged it for a charged needle. The smooth skin below her navel was the perfect start. He set to work, switching the device on and pressing it onto her flesh. Stephanie stirred again, uncomfortable but accepting something far from the sensation she had just experienced. He traced his hand carefully as an artist would, looping and shading. Throughout the process, she felt like she was hallucinating again, the combination of numbness, soreness and endless vibration playing havoc with her senses.

At some point, he disappeared from view and she felt the needle again dragging over her skin, this time in small motions over her left buttock. It didn't hurt as much this time, maybe because it was a less sensitive area or maybe because she was getting used to the pain. Her mind sprinted through dark winding corridors and into vast tunnels, trying to escape. How adorable, he thought, as her ass tensed and flexed in response to his calligraphy. How satisfying that her pure snow white skin should be branded by his hand. The Madame would be delighted.

When he was done, he made no effort to move her but instead left her to swing from her bonds and contemplate her new modifications and the horrifying possibilities of the days ahead.

What has he done to me?...What has he DONE TO ME?!


Chapter 11: Little Piggy Goes to Market
Tags: lezdom, cunnilingus, humiliation, exhibitionism, spank, orgasm denial, dirty talk, mind control, female orgasm

Prunella was extremely happy with Stephanie's new look. She felt the piercings and tattoos "really brought out the sex slave in her". Even so, she was not as contented as the Doctor, who was so grateful that when he returned the girl at the end of the month that he also sent along a huge bouquet of flowers, a gold bracelet and a new gilded-handled riding crop. It was the horsewhip in particular that Snyde had held up with delight. It wasn't every day that her admirers knew how to buy for her.

Stroking her new gift and admiring the flex in its hard leather tongue, she sat astride a chair in her grand living room. It was mid afternoon and as she had nowhere else to be that day, she wore only a full length silk robe. Of course, as always, she kept her hair tied in a neat bun and her face made up perfectly. One could still be glamorous if not going out.

A laptop sat open on a small table next to her. Its built-in camera was on and it framed the room almost as Snyde saw it, in clear high-definition.

"Hang it nicely," Snyde said through her ruby lips.

Stephanie hung her maid outfit on a hanger on her wardrobe. Her mistress wanted to see her new decorations again in all their glory and so the young woman had stripped down until she was fully nude.

"Come here. Present."

The sub knelt on the floor, spread her knees, raised her chin up, pushed her breasts out and clasped her hands behind her head. She was breathing heavily. Not just because she was anticipating another session of sexual service but because for the last six days, she had been kept on the edge of orgasm. Snyde had discovered just how reactive her new clit piercing made her to the electro wand and had put it to the test, always denying her the climax she so craved. After a hundred and forty hours of being taken to the peak only to be refused at the last moment, her body felt constantly sensitive. The slightest touch was sending her into deep throws of desire. But still she waited, given no clue as to whether today would be the day or not.

"Look how lovely your new fat titties are," Snyde giggled. "Two big boobs for one little boob! Shake them for me."

The silicone breasts bounced and wobbled from side to side as Stephanie performed for her mistress. The hoop piercings in her nipples teased her just the tiniest bit but it was more than enough to make each pink teat stand to attention.

"Good. Display."

Resting her hands back on the floor, Stephanie leaned back to expose her pussy. When she was balanced, she used one hand to spread her lips apart, stretching herself as wide as she could. Like her nipples, her clitoris was already hard and alert, lifting the metal ring into the air.

"Owned..." Snyde mused, reading the word emblazoned across her sub's waist. "Indeed you are, now and forever more." The mature blonde held the riding crop out and gently stroked the tip of the leather swat against the piercing.

Stephanie shivered, her eyes closing momentarily, feeling the silent hum of vibrations reverberate through her most sensitive zone and radiate through her entire core. She let out a gasp and her breath quickened.

"That's a good girl. Open as wide as you can. Little sluts like you need to keep their holes open and ready." The riding crop traced a line around the edges of her labia, along the inside of her thighs and back again to her clit. Stephanie's mouth hung open as felt the ripples of ecstasy widen within her.

"Please, Mommy," Stephanie breathed, using the new term Madame Snyde had given her to further deepen her humiliation. "Please let me cum today."

"Oh, such an eager little whore!" Snyde laughed in delight. "Are you feeling just a tad sensitive, hm?"

"Yes, Mommy." Her voice was trembling. The crop was still circling her pussy and she didn't know how much more she could take.

"Such a horny little thing you are. And oh dear! Your pussy is soooo wet."

Stephanie couldn't see from the angle she was positioned in but she could definitely feel it. The dampness between her legs had been there all week, ever since the first session in which the Madame had brought her to the edge, only to send her back to her cleaning duties without release. Beads of coital fluid were seeping onto her fingers and Snyde spent a while admiring the deeper shade of pink she had turned the girl's cunt through constant stimulus.

"I bet you'd do anything to be able to cum right now."

"Mm-hm..." Stephanie's eyelids flickered.

"Tell me how much you want it."

"Oh, I want it so badly, Mommy. I'll do absolutely anything you want...please...please..."

"Tell me what you would do to for me."

"Anything, my queen. I'll worship you. I'll lick your pussy all night long..."

"Oh, you'd do that anyway and you know it," Snyde scoffed, slapping the end of the crop against the metal ring and making her sub jump. "Talk dirty to me. Tell me all the disgusting things a fuck pig like you wants to get herself off."

Stephanie frowned, already shamed by the order. By now, she was used to begging. Used to the degrading position of requesting her own abuse and always knowing she would get it. But today it was no longer an empty request. She couldn't guarantee that she would be given what her body was so desperately hungry for. She needed to convince. She needed to plead.

"I want to finger myself...I want to sink my fingers deep inside my hot wet pussy... Please, mistress...I need to cum...Pleeeease let me cum..."

"No! You're not convincing me. I want to hear the dirtiest fucking things you've ever said. Now BEG for it!"

"Please! I'm so horny...I need to be fucked...I need my fingers inside my dirty wet cunt...I'll do anything...Anything..."

"Try harder," Snyde said, looking at her fingernails with casual disinterest.

Stephanie's heart was pounding. The crop was circling her nipples now, dancing along her body and reminding her that she was just a toy to be played with. "My cunt is so wet...Please let me masturbate for you, Mommy...I'll do it right now if you let me...I'll cum for you...I'll squirt for you...I'll stuff my fingers inside my pussy and frig myself like a filthy whore if you just let me...Please just let me..."

"Better. But keep going and we'll see. What will you do for me?"

"I'll do ANYTHING! Anything you want!...I'll stick my tongue in your beautiful pussy...and I'll lick you until you cum all over my face..."

"Like I said, what else is new?" The crop swatted at the quivering lips again.

"No, please, Mommy!" The sub's desperation was tangible now, the fear of being denied for another night wasn't worth contemplating. "I'll suck on your tits and...I'll eat your asshole...I'll show you what a good slut I can be...Please...PLEASE!..."

"A good little slut? Tell me what else you are."

"I'm a dirty filthy whore...I'm a fuck pig...Your pathetic pussy eating...butt licking...FUCK PIG...yours to use...yours to do whatever you want with..."

Stephanie's body had gone rigid. She was so tense with anticipation and pent up desire that she was shaking. The Madame retracted the crop and stuck one foot out, letting her big toe flick at the engorged clit a few times. Immediately, the redhead spasmed and shook, fighting the urge to give in with everything she had. Her clitoris felt like one giant nerve, connected to every cell of her body, verging on a meltdown. "OOOOooohhhhh...."

"How much do you want to be fucked?" The manicured digit worked its way between the lips and prodded at the slippery pink inner walls. Instinctively, Stephanie's fingers spread herself even wider and pushed against the toe, so frantic was she for relief. Snyde chuckled and withdrew a little, teasingly, making her whine again. "Tell me!"

"I want to be fucked so badly, Mommy...Please fuck my dirty cunt...I want you inside me...I need you to fuck me..."

Snyde's foot pressed forward again, sinking the tip of her big toe back into the girl. It felt slimy and warm and even with that tiny part of her, she could feel her slave's heart pounding through her body. A few short pokes and Stephanie was writhing again.

"I'm a dirty fuck pig...a filthy fucking slut...I'll fuck anything..."

Her hips bucked and Snyde laughed again, removing her toe and dragging out a thin trail of juice along with it. "NO! PLEASE!" Stephanie moaned.

"Don't get carried away. I'm still not convinced you want to cum. Present down."

Stephanie sprang forward and hastily flipped herself over onto her hands and knees. Her legs spread out wide and she pressed her face to the floor, raising her ass up and arching her back deep to give her mistress an unshielded view of her deprived holes. There was no longer any shame in her actions, just pure, unadulterated desperation.

"That's better," the older woman said, using the crop to trace the vulgar words tattooed over each smooth white buttock. "How many cocks have you had in these holes?"

"So many, Mommy...lost count...just so many big hard cocks in my dirty holes...Please let me cum...Pleeease may I, Mommy?..."

"Maybe if you tell me how you want to be fucked." Snyde was enjoying herself and tickled the crop on the metal ring again, making the sub dig her fingers hard into the carpet.

"I want to be fucked like a bitch...mmm...I need to be bent over and made to take a big, fat meat stick in my hot wet twat...Pull my hair...Gag me with cock...oh yeah...I want to have all my holes stuffed with hard dicks..."

"My, my," the Madame tittered, striking the crop firmly against the left cheek. From this angle, Snyde could see how red Stephanie's pussy had become. "You're literally dripping!"

"Yes! I'm wet for you!"

"Hmm. What a dirty girl you are."

"Oh, I AM a dirty girl!...I'm sooo dirty and I need to be fucked soooo bad!...My cunt is aching for cock...I want it everywhere...in my mouth and up my ass...I'm a cum guzzling whore..."

"Up your ass, you say?"

Another strike of the crop sent shivers up Stephanie's curved spine. She was rocking back and forth now, humping an invisible partner. "Oh YES!...I'm an ass whore...A dirty fucking ass slut...I want to be fucked up my fart hole..."

"Oh, how shameful!"

"Please, Mommy! PLEASE! Please fuck me! Please LET ME CUM!"

Breathing heavily herself, Snyde was satisfied with just how far the young woman was going to persuade her. Not that she was anyone near done playing with her toy just yet. "You're a naughty girl, aren't you? Perhaps you need to be spanked."

"Yes, Mommy! I'm such a naughty girl! Please spank me, Mommy! Teach me a lesson!" Stephanie's ass wriggled and pushed out further in offering.

"Hmm...I think I'd prefer to watch you do it. Go on. Spank yourself for me. Spank your little bottom."

The slavegirl propped herself up and looked back with an expression of pained embarrassment. Her face was bright red and Snyde knew she was a broken woman. Despite her unending humiliation, Stephanie proceeded to smack her ass. She wasn't gentle either. Her hand came down hard, knowing just how much punishment would be expected. Over and over she slapped at her naked white buttocks. "I'm a naughty girl! I'm a naughty dirty girl!"

Snyde laughed, watching the redhead demean herself on the floor for her amusement. She let her keep going for some time and delighted as the cheeks gradually turned a dark shade of pink. Without even thinking about it, Snyde had let her own legs spread apart and was fondling herself delicately beneath the silk robe. Warm and wet enough to want more, she decided it was time to have her own gratification. "That's enough. You begged to eat my pussy. Well fucking do it."

The young woman shuffled around as quickly as she could and practically rammed her face between her mistress's thighs, gobbling and lapping at the exposed snatch that was by now all too familiar to her.

"Oh yes..." Snyde breathed, closing her eyes and letting the soft eager tongue dance around her lips. "Oh yes...yes...mmmm....mmmmm....mmmm...."

Stephanie was moaning too. Feeling the heat coming off her owner's crotch reminded of her own needs banging on the door to be let out. How she wished she could just slip her fingers between her legs and, with just a few short thrusts, bring herself off in what could be the most intense orgasm she would ever have. But she couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to, she still had no control over her body. And when Mistress said no playing with herself, that was the final word. Instead, Stephanie lost herself in the musk of the mature domme's beaver, licking and slurping with insatiable hunger.

"Oh yes...Yes...Yes...YES!...YES!...YES!..."

Snyde's long legs wrapped around the girl's head, pulling her in closer, almost smothering her. Her hips bucked and her eyelids fluttered as she threw her head back and let herself enjoy the experience to its fullest.

"Yes! That's it! That's it! Fucking lick me out!...Oh yes!..." The clamping thighs suddenly released and Snyde's hand pushed against Stephanie's bobbing head, sending her backwards. "Watch me finger myself to orgasm."

Sure enough, Stephanie stared ahead with tangible frustration as the Madame masturbated openly in front of her, making sure she could see every knuckle plunging inside her loosened cunt. Her exaggerated moans of pleasure were as loud as they were calculated. Using both hands, one to frig her G-spot and the other to rub on her clit at lightning speed, Snyde went all in. Her mouth hung open and her eyes rolled back. Then, the only sound was an intense release of air, something like a growl from the back of the domme's throat, before a shudder ran through her and her hands stopped moving. There was a quiet moment of stillness as the mistress breathed out and held herself for a moment. Her orgasm was strong and free flowing, built on a wave of sadistic actions.

"Taste."

Opening her mouth and leaning forward to reach her outstretched hand, Stephanie tasted the tang of her owner's nectar, sucking on the fingers like a little girl being allowed to lick the frosting spoon clean.

"You still want to cum too?"

"Y..yes...pleeeasssse..." came the exasperated response.

"Stand up."

She leaped to her feet, hoping this would be the moment she had longed for. The Madame pulled her towards her and pushed a knee between her legs, forcing her to half-stand half-squat on her thigh. Snyde ran a teasing finger around the areola and over the diamond hard nipples, loving the way she could make the girl's expression change from giddiness to anguish in a split second.

"Put your hands on your tits and play with them."

Stephanie's finger replaced her mistress's as she cupped her bulbous breasts.

"When I say hump, you will be permitted to grind on my leg. But when I say stop, you are to stop immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Hump."

Not wanting to spare any time, the slavegirl began to rub herself on the goddess's smooth tanned thigh, humping her like a horny stripper. She moaned out loud as her pelvis rocked rapidly back and forth.

"Stop."

"OOOOoooooohhhh..." Stephanie whined. She had been given barely any time and yet she felt as though a few more thrusts could have sent her over the edge. Snyde grinned, letting the seconds tick by.

"Hump."

Again, Stephanie began to grind, her hands pressing hard into her tit flesh and her slender hips rolling hard. She felt so degraded being made to perform like this but she craved it from the depths of her soul. She was like an animal in heat, greedy and unabashed.

"Stop."

Another pleading whine. Snyde chuckled and flexed the riding crop, delighting in her new game. Over and over the commands alternated, only ever giving Stephanie a few seconds of pleasure and then denying her climax.

"Hump....Stop....Hump....Stop...."

Ultimately, it was only making things worse for Stephanie, ramping up her desperation to another level. The Madame's leg was already smeared with juice and it began to run down the sides of her thigh. Still, Snyde was determined not to let her go too far. It was just too fun to end things now. Of course there were still so many ways to play the teasing game.

"Enough," the domme commanded. "Get off me and turn around."

The girl reluctantly moved away, leaving a very obvious smattering of wetness behind her. Turning to face the wall, she looked down to see Snyde's foot once again reaching out beneath her, heel resting on the floor and glossy red nails glistening like tiny mirrors.

"When I say down, you will crouch down and fuck my big toe. When I say up, you stand back up. Not difficult. And no use of your hands, they are to remain on your tits." Snyde leaned back in her chair, getting herself comfortable. "Down."

Stephanie inched her feet apart and dropped down, squatting lewdly to let the toe sink into her opening. Just the tip of the digit caused a wave of ecstasy to wash through her, but before she could enjoy any more, she heard the command to rise.

"Ohhh!..." the young woman's pleading only made Snyde more determined to keep going.

"Down."

Squatting again. Bouncing her ass up and down once, twice, three times...

"Up."

"Please...PLEASE...."

"Down."

Dropping as low as she could, wedging the toe inside her. Bouncing. Bouncing. Her pussy on fire.

"Up."

Stephanie was whimpering loudly now, sounding like she was about to burst into tears if she couldn't get off soon.

"Awww...so pathetic," Snyde sneered, watching the girl trembling before her. "Down."

The game went on and on and never did the Madame allow more than just a few short thrusts before ruining the girl's pleasure. Stephanie went up and down like a yo-yo, feeling the strain on her legs and back. Her thigh muscles began to burn and still...still...she was no closer to scratching her powerful itch.

"PLEASE, MOMMY! PLEASE LET ME CUM!"

"Oh dear! This is really hard for you, isn't it?"

"YES! I NEED IT! I NEED IT!"

"How appropriate your branding is! You really are a total fuck pig."

"YES, MOMMY! I'M A TOTAL FUCK PIG!" Her voice was shaking like the rest of her body.

"Then get back down on all fours. I have something that's perfect for you."

The Madame watched Stephanie sink back to the floor and then rang a small silver bell. Moments after the gentle tinkling subsided, Nina entered the room, dressed in her usual revealing lingerie. Her beauty was mind-blowing but the mistress knew that her veteran slave would always be there to play with when she needed her. For today, Nina was merely a servant and, true to form, she had arrived with a package.

Nina handed the small paper bag over with a respectful bow of her head and shot Stephanie a quick glance. Even with the flame-haired slavegirl left red-faced and trembling in discomfort on the floor, Nina was stricken with envy. It had been some weeks since she had been put through the sweet ordeal of orgasm denial and longed to be the center of attention again.

Snyde took the bag and peered inside. Another treat procured during her latest shopping spree. Stephanie prepared herself for the worst but what emerged wasn't at all what she expected. Her cheeks burned again as the Madame produced the rubber pig nose, a lifelike snout with an elastic band attached. When her mistress pulled the band over Stephanie's head and positioned it over her real pointed, freckled nose, another strong surge of shame flooded through her.

"How perfect! That's much better. My friend told me how much you squealed for him." Snyde clapped her hands and stood back to admire the subtle transformation. "Fuck Pig, follow me. Nina, bring the laptop."

Stephanie crawled behind the domme as they left the room, traversed the long hallway and descended the staircase. All the while, Nina obediently carried the computer, carefully directing the webcam to capture the journey. When they reached the expansive reception room on the ground floor, Nina kneeled and kept the laptop steady at the request of her owner, balancing it on her outstretched palms.

"Good, stay there," Snyde said, placing her hands on her hips. "Now then, Fuck Pig, go to the bottom stair and lie back against it with your shoulders on the floor." She moved Stephanie into position, guiding her so that she was almost upside down, resting her weight on her neck and raising her legs up onto the steps. Then, Snyde took both of her ankles and pulled them forward so that Stephanie was bent all the way over with her feet outstretched above her head. Her neglected holes were pointed to the ceiling and the uncomfortable pose meant breathing was more difficult. "Keep your legs straight out and don't move from that position."

The older woman stroked her crop along the length of the girl's exposed pussy and down her curved torso. How lucky that this pretty little slave was so flexible. It certainly made for more interesting games. A quick swipe of the leather tongue on her already sore ass cheeks and Snyde stepped away, leaving Stephanie awkwardly displaying herself.

"Little pig, little pig..." Snyde sang in a mocking tone. "You want to cum, little pig?"

"Yes, Mommy!"

"Nuh-uh-uh. Little fuck pigs don't talk. Let mistress hear you oink."

Stephanie fidgeted in distress, still so horny. Still so eager to please. She sucked in air through the back of her throat and snorted like a hog, somehow making the crude noise still sound like a plea. Snyde found it difficult not to laugh.

"Ok, piggy. Seeing as how you've been such a pathetic whimpering little slut, I'm going to give you what you so badly want. Or rather, you're going to give it to you. Stick your fingers in your pussy and start frigging yourself."

The young woman's body seemed to freeze, tensing with impatience. A hand shot up over her thigh and doing all she could to maintain her posture, she plunged it forcefully into her twat. Her movements were violent and relentless with almost her entire hand disappearing inside her with every thrust.

"PLEASE MAY I CUM, MOMMY?!!" she cried out again, her voice strangled.

"What was that, piggy?"

The slavegirl remembered her role and snorted loudly, again and again, her farmyard grunts echoing through the mansion.

"Cum for me!" Snyde yelled. "Cum all over yourself!"

Stephanie's hand darted in and out in a blur until finally she screamed. Her pussy erupted like a geyser, sending hot squirt arcing high into the air and falling back down directly onto her spluttering face. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaahhhhh!!!!"

Her vision blurred and all she could see was rippling white light as if she was seeing the world from beneath the ocean. Cold fire ripped through her nerve endings. The gush kept going and going, soaking her hair and her comical rubber snout and pooling on the floor around her. It was like she was a champagne bottle, shaken up and opened with a bang. And she didn't want it to end. She wanted to empty her entire body. A week of tension released in seconds. Her whole frame, still bent in half, spasmed wildly.

Eventually, the outpouring of girl cum subsided, trickling down her belly as her muscles relaxed. She was drenched. Her own fluids saturated her skin and stung her eyes. Then the world came crashing back into focus and a brief moment of clarity reminded her just how low she had fallen. Her dripping face glowed with the indignity of it all and the spine-chilling sounds of a cackling laugh somewhere nearby gave her goosebumps.

"What a fucking whore!" the Madame laughed, applauding her sub. "Get over here now and show me what a mess you've made."

Almost collapsing in a heap as she flopped onto her side, Stephanie found a few ounces of strength to pick herself up and crawl dizzily across the slippery hardwood floor. Snyde waited until she was a foot away from the laptop before pressing a button to end the recording. Saved and stored. Nina, still balancing the computer in her arms, had watched the whole scenario with casual, yet jealous, amusement.

"That will make such a wonderful edition to your website," said Snyde, "And I imagine it should attract quite a few new members."

The Madame had hosted a chain of personal porn sites for some time. Most successful had been her site dedicated to Nina, showcasing the gorgeous woman's talents as another way to inflict her sadistic control over her. Nina loved it, constantly tormented and turned on when wondering if anyone who had once known her in her past life had yet stumbled upon it.

Of course, Stephanie's arrival had demanded a brand new site and over the months, just like Nina, the new slave's humiliation had been documented on film and all of the footage had been uploaded onto the internet for anyone to access for just twenty dollars a month. Everything she had been through was there, collected and categorized. Dozens and dozens of movies. Hundreds of photos. Stephanie stared at the screen as Snyde brought the site up and scrolled through the pages, showing her exactly how her degradation was being broadcast to thousands of customers all over the world. The young woman gawped open mouthed, seeing an end to any illusions she had ever held onto of one day restoring her reputation.

"That being said, it wouldn't be fair on the world to keep everything to ourselves...which is why I've taken the time to create a few free accounts. Perhaps you'd like to send them out, my little pet? Would you like that?"

No...god no...

Stephanie nodded her head slowly.

"Yes, I think that would be very polite. In fact, I think there's a lot of people who would love to access your site on a complimentary membership pass but I've made the effort to whittle it down...you know...so as not to give too much custom away." The Madame poked the mousepad and brought up a spreadsheet listing over twenty names. Stephanie began to read them and for a second time that afternoon, her hair stood on end.

This can't be possible...how could she have...?...

Names of people from her past. Some she remembered all too well, other she had thought she'd forgotten until then. Ex boyfriends. Guys she had dumped since high school. Other guys she had rejected on the spot, scoffing as she told them she was out of their league. And female names too. Girls she had bullied, picked on, befriended and discarded. Women and men she had fired over the years for nothing but the smallest of infractions, merely to satisfy her own sense of power. Anyone she had wronged was on the list. Jennifer Thomas. Alison Fayre. Names that felt like distant voices from another world. But here they were. And each name corresponded to an email address, a username and a password.

You can't! You can't do this to me!

The list went on down the page until Stephanie read the last name and her breath caught in her throat. Jessica Coy.

Mom...? NO!

"I'm afraid you're going to be here for a while. Each name will receive an email from you today. A personal email from your own personal account, inviting them to VIP access. But that's not all. Each email will also be a confession. You're to write each person here a groveling apology, begging forgiveness for anything you did to them. You're going to write these letters of contrition individually and with full specifics so that there is no doubt they are coming from you. There will be no crying for help or details about your predicament. Only your heartfelt apology and the offer of free access to your website to show them how sincere you are..." Snyde watched the subtle prick of tears form in those crystal blue eyes. "...except the last name. That's just there so your dear sweet mother can know just how much a filthy fucking pornslut her daughter has become! Tell her yourself. I'm off to top up my tan but I'll be back in a couple of hours. I expect all emails to have been sent by then. Understand?"

"...Y...yes...Mommy..."

Snyde stood up and with a ruby red smile, left both her slavegirls kneeling on the floor. Nina held the laptop open, suffering silently as her legs ached against the hard floor. As for Stephanie, her fingers began to nervously type while her naked body, still doused and dripping, trembled with anxiety.

'Dear Matt, I know it's been a while but I just needed to get in touch with you...'

There was almost no light in the room. Several separated glass viewing booths formed a semi-circle, looking out onto the empty center of the chamber, each of them lit inside by just the faintest of lamps to help the occupants find their seats. The viewers waited silently inside the booths as if waiting to watch a private stage show. They relaxed into comfortable armchairs, some of them lighting cigarettes, adding to the room an eerie wall of smoke. Tea had been made ready for them, served in fine bone china.

Prunella Snyde sat behind one of the windows, entirely comfortable and watching her guests with quiet curiosity. There were three groups of men here. All of them wealthy. All of them keen not to be noticed. But all of them unbothered by the law, knowing the right amount of money and influence could empower them to do anything. Snyde couldn't help but admire that philosophy. She jabbed a finger at the tea set in front of her.

By her side, Nina instantly went into action. Having been reinstated as the house maid, she was no longer stripped to her underwear but instead donned the short French maid outfit that had more recently been the standard uniform of her fellow slavegirl. Pleased to be back in her place at the Madame's side, she poured tea into a cup and then took a step back into the shadows, standing to attention in case she was called upon again.

Putting a headset on, the Madame spoke calmly into the microphone. "It looks like everyone's ready. Begin."

Nina flipped a switch and the dark chamber in front of the windows lit up, spotlights casting a golden hue on the empty space. The men remained still, anticipation hanging in the air.

Slowly and nervously, the red-haired woman with the beautiful body stepped into the light. The contrast of her ivory skin on the pitch black surroundings made her stand out like a silhouette in reverse. She was nude, save for a pair of stripper heels and the rubber pig snout that the mistress now made her wear almost constantly, reminding her of her status. Her true worth however was about to be discovered.

Stephanie edged to the middle of the floor and stood as straight as she could, her hands clasped behind her head. She couldn't see behind the two-way mirrors and her own naked reflection stared back at her from four different angles. She could see how different her body looked since her days of freedom. Her breasts, surgically expanded. Her pussy shaved and waxed to a smooth finish. The small metal piercings adorning her nipples and clitoris, twinkling under the spotlights. And of course the tattoos. Those simple permanent brandings, designed to debase her forever.

The groups of men peered intently from within their enclosures. In one, a team of white men in dark suits waited for the response of their man in charge, a hard-faced Eastern European with his own tattoos emblazoned across his neck and knuckles. He puffed his cigarette and calmly pressed the button under his index finger.

A display screen in front of Snyde blinked. The opening bid. $300,000. She looked up at the mobster's booth and saw his sharp features staring out at the girl, emotionless.

"Turn in a circle." The Madame's voice came through a speaker inside the dark room and Stephanie obeyed, turning a full 360 degrees.

In the booth next to the mobsters, a group of African men gawped at the woman on display. Most of them were in black fatigues but the big man in charge was in green combat gear and a beret. His cold white eyes hungered to have her and he thumped the button.

$500,000. Snyde ran her finger around the lip of her tea cup. "Open."

Stephanie responded to the order like a first language, dropping one hand down and using her fingers to spread her pussy lips apart as she bent at the knees, exposing herself as wide as she could.

In the third booth, the Arab men observed the girl's pink snatch with obvious amusement and the sheik at the button pushed the bid further up, only for the man with the tattoos to counter immediately.

Snyde's display screen began to ping with fresh bids as the trio battled it out for the right to take the woman into their possession. The lights jumped back and forth and the total pot escalated to over a million and a half. The Madame was happy but knew they could always use more encouragement. "Present up," she said.

The slavegirl sank to the floor and turned to show the mirrored windows her subservient holes in their full glory, giving them a visual taste of what they could expect to have at their disposal at all times if they won the auction. Her soft cheeks were deliciously round and would prove a worthy view, while the crude brandings across them were further proof that she would submit fully and without question to any act. Again the bids rose.

Eventually the volley of offers from the Eastern European mobsters died down and the stern looking man at the button shook his head ever so slightly to indicate to his loyal brutes that the price was now too high. Not that he couldn't afford it, he was merely operating under orders on behalf of his captain. It would have been nice to have a healthy slave that wasn't high on smack or unconscious half the time but it wasn't as if white sluts were hard to come by in his part of the world.

The same couldn't be said for the others. White women were regarded with a higher value and the bidding bounced back and forth a few more times. Surprisingly, it was not the sheik who dealt the final bid, despite being by and large the wealthiest man in the room. He simply felt he could get something even prettier and less spoiled for what he was prepared to pay this time. After all, he may have been rich but he wasn't reckless.

Realizing he was the final bidder, the African militant clapped his hands and motioned for one of his men to bring the briefcase forward. Together, they counted out several thick bricks of cash and tossed them into the sack provided before dispensing with the payment in a metal drawer located in the window. Nina was already on her way over on the other side of the screen and fetched the sack to return to her mistress. No gratuities. No taxes. No administrative costs. Just a couple million dollars, crisp and unmarked.

With the auction over, the groups left the booths and made their way out of the building towards the front driveway, where a series of armored cars awaited them. The Africans proceeded to the rear of the building where their own transport was ready to whisk them off as soon as they claimed their purchase.

Stephanie found herself being fitted with her dog collar and a number of additional ropes threaded through the piercings on her nipples and clit, forming a web of leashes all tugging at the front of her body. As Nina applied them, Stephanie could see that her fellow slavegirl had a smugness about her, a twinkle in her eye that indicated she knew something Stephanie didn't. She was right of course. Nina knew that Stephanie's time at the house had come to an end and that she herself was to finally return to her role as the only fulltime slave to Prunella Snyde. She had dreamed of this moment for a long time. No more sharing. No more waiting. Snyde's attention would be all on her and the thought of it was already making her wet.

Nina took the ends of the leads and marched Stephanie out of the chamber, deliberately tugging a little too hard and making the other woman have to pick up the pace to prevent her sensitive parts from suffering the consequences. They walked along a corridor until they came to a pair of large double doors leading outside onto a huge stretch of grass. Snyde was waiting for them and the African men stood ready, wanting to enact the trade quickly.

Stephanie squinted as the daylight washed over her and the breeze ruffled her hair. Confused, she looked at the contingent of dark faces and wondered where she was being taken to this time. Little did she know, her ticket was one-way.

"A pleasure doing business with you," Snyde said to the man in the beret.

"Thank you, dear lady," he replied in his heavy accent. "We must be leaving. Our boat is waiting off the shore and our journey is a long one." He smiled warmly and the Madame nodded in agreement.

"Well then, piggy," she said, turning to Stephanie. "You've made me quite a neat little nest egg today. Such a shame that this is where we part ways but that was always the agreement. Can't have you hanging around for too long just in case anyone ever does come snooping."

What is she...? Part ways? I'm leaving? I'm finally leaving?!

Stephanie's hope fluttered momentarily until she peered up at the dangerous looking men nearby and the helicopter parked in the field behind them.

"Don't worry," the English woman continued, her all-too-familiar voice dripping with poisoned honey. "Look at it this way. You'll be seeing more of the world. And I hear the Congo is lovely this time of year."

The color drained from Stephanie's face as Nina handed the chains to the mean-looking thug and as he led her away with the group, she failed to verbalize her distress, merely glancing back as she wobbled across the grass. Her face was a picture of panic.

Snyde and Nina stood at the door, watching the naked woman being loaded into the helicopter and a blanket thrown over her head. They both wondered if that would be the last they or anyone in the civilized world ever saw of her.

"Such a shame I couldn't keep her for longer. And just when I had her completely broken." Snyde sighed and turned to Nina, who seemed to be wearing the faintest of smiles. "Still, at least I have you. I'll always have you, won't I? Now let's you and I get back home and you can give me a full body massage."

Nina shuddered with joy as her owner's hand ran up her thigh. "Yes, mistress."

The rotor blades turned, raising the chopper off the field and into the clear blue sky.

It was a beautiful morning when Jessica Coy rose early. She decided to make herself an espresso before taking the dog for a walk into town where they could both enjoy the sun. Her husband had been out all night with his friends, drinking and discussing history or literature or whatever it was he did at those secret social gatherings of his. He wouldn't be up for hours, which was good news for Jessica. All the more time to enjoy her own thoughts before the inevitable grocery shopping, cleaning and other weekend chores.

As she threw on some clothes and looked out her window, she wondered if her daughter was having much success taking on her new challenging career. Becoming a screen actress was a notoriously difficult business to break into and she hoped that wherever she was, she wasn't letting her work get in the way of enjoying herself. Jessica received the occasional phone call from Stephanie but there was always something strange about the way she sounded, like she was tired and in a hurry. Kind of like she was just going through the motions and not really thinking about it. But that was what actresses do, Jessica supposed. Always reading off some sort of script.

The coffee steamed in the kitchen as she flipped open her laptop. Probably enough time to check her emails before her walk. Her inbox popped open and a new message blinked unread at the top of the page. Stephanie! What a nice surprise...

Jessica clicked open the email and smiled as she began to read her daughter's correspondence.

'Dear Mom, sorry it's been a while but I wanted to write to let you know that I finally made it in the movies. In fact I want you to be one of the first to see me in action...'