Author's Note: This story is designed to make sense on its own, but it's one of a series of stories I have written about Theo's BDSM Slave Service. All the others have been published on Literotica. If you like this one and want to read about more of Theo's slaves, some of whom are mentioned in passing here, head on over to Literotica and look me up.

You'll also find a few more recent stories about loving, consensual bondage that I've been writing to take a break from Theo.


I'm Jess. You've met me before, especially in some of Stephanie's stories. Now I get to tell one of my own.

I'm a tallish but not towering black woman with medium-dark skin and hair that falls naturally in a spray of black curls around my shoulders. I pride myself on being fit and staying fit, taking advantage of Theo's on-site gym at every opportunity. This helps keep my C-cup breasts from sagging and gives me good muscle definition without making me look like an over-muscled body builder.

I'm 33, but I was 25 when Theo first "recruited" - AKA kidnapped - me. That's in the age range Theo prefers: not just technically legal, but mature enough to, in his words, "not make me feel like a pedophile." Not that legality has a lot to do with it, since everything Theo does in letting clients tie up and rape totally non-consensual slaves is hugely illegal. I guess even human traffickers have lines they won't cross.

Oh yes, and I have the dubious distinction of being Theo's very first sex slave. That's why I have the number 1 tattooed just above my left breast. Theo introduced the tattooed numbers when he got up to about sixteen slaves: it's helpful if a client wants to ask for a particular slave on a repeat visit, since we don't always get the chance to introduce ourselves by name.

Theo's operation is now a slick and well-oiled slave-based BSDM brothel with twenty-five slaves that evidently make him a pretty good amount of money - it should, considering that clients pay $2000 for an hour and a half to do almost anything they want to us, including things that no professional sex worker would ever consent to. In a bit, I'll tell you about a particularly interesting day at this well-oiled machine. But first, I'll tell you how it looked when he started, and I unwillingly joined him.

I had been living in Hamilton for about three years, working as a graphic designer for a small company. I enjoyed my work, and the four other members of the team were smart and easy to get along with. I could take the subway home, but on fine Spring days when the weather has begun to warm, I usually preferred to walk. My condo was only about twenty minutes away from work, and the walk helped me settle and centre myself after an intense day of making and defending design decisions.

My route took me by some open areas, which I found especially therapeutic. On this particular Friday, I was walking by such an area, trying to be mindful and present as I walked, paying attention to the way my body moved with each step, how the pavement felt under my feet, the way the wind felt on my skin, and letting go of all the things that had occupied my mind at work. I noticed a large and powerfully-built man with swarthy skin and brown hair and beard round a corner and walk toward me. As he approached, he automatically moved further to his side of the sidewalk to give me room to pass, as did I. He nodded pleasantly to me as we passed each other and we both passed a large black van that was parked by the curb.

Just as he passed, he suddenly whirled around, and before I could react, he had a wide panel gag over my mouth and was cinching it behind my head. It was made of soft rubber and clung tightly to my skin, and I found that I couldn't open my lips behind it. I screamed, of course, but it all had to come out my nose and didn't sound very effectual.

When I reached up to scrabble at the gag with my fingers, he grabbed both my wrists and twisted them behind my back. I felt metal handcuffs ratcheting closed around them, pinning my arms behind my back. I struggled violently and tried to kick him, but he was ready for that, and turned sideways to me so I couldn't kick him in the groin. He got one arm across my throat from behind and grabbed his wrist with his other hand, pinning my neck as if in a vice. I struggled for a while, but he was just as strong as he looked, and I felt myself blacking out. He seemed to know what he was doing with the chokehold: he didn't do it until I passed out completely, just until I was too far gone to resist.

The side door of the van was open. It had been closed when I started to walk by it; probably he pushed the open button on the key fob just before he whipped the gag over my face. Once I was past being able to put up an effective resistance, he backed me up to it and shoved me through it hard so I landed on my back on the carpeted floor. There were two leather straps attached to the floor, and I was groggy enough that I couldn't resist when he cinched one around each ankle, pinning me to the carpet. Another went over my chest just below my breasts to keep me flat on my back, the handcuffs digging uncomfortably into me.

Once he made sure I was secure, he checked a camera, evidently to make sure no-one would catch a glimpse of a bound, struggling woman when he opened the door. When he was sure the area was vacant, he stepped out and went forward to the cab, leaving me alone in the windowless back of the van.

If you've been following these stories, you may find this routine familiar. It's the way Theo acquired Serena, or Slave Fourteen as he calls her. In talking to other women in Theo's "employ," I discovered that he has a variety of ways to acquire new slaves. A few he grabs off the street, but that only works when the victim likes to walk regularly on a route that includes some areas that are relatively deserted. He always surveils his prey for weeks or months, looking for patterns and regular habits that would present an opportunity.

When an opportunity for a blatant daylight grab doesn't offer itself, he has lots of other ways. Some women are conned into walking right into his trap - Theo can be extremely engaging and can inspire trust in women who would normally be too smart to fall for a confidence trick. Some he manages to get to date him so he can drive them to a restaurant and, of course, never arrive. A few, like Stephanie and Anabelle, he buys from slave traders, although he prefers to do the kidnapping himself. And he's not too proud to give up on a promising target when there is no opportunity for a safe recruitment. He hasn't gotten away with his game for eight years by being hasty or careless.

But back to the story.

We drove for what seemed like hours, some of it evidently on highways and some stop-and-go through built-up areas. As I laid there uncomfortably, I tried to make out what was going on. This was too carefully planned and executed to be a casual grab-and-rape. Ransom? As a junior employee, I didn't have much money, nor did my family. Mistaken identity? Did he think I had a rich boyfriend, or was affiliated with a powerful drug cartel? The truth turned out to be too fantastic for me to have guessed it until Theo told me.

By the time we stopped for good, I was no longer even sure which province I was in, let alone which city. Theo slid the van door open, unfastened the straps that were holding me to the floor, and removed the gag, but left the handcuffs on. I swung my legs over the doorsill and awkwardly stepped out into what appeared to be an underground garage.

Theo inspected my wrists, which were chafed and raw from my struggles with the handcuffs. "Damn," he said ruefully. "I'll have to refine my recruitment technique. I don't like my slaves to be marked up."

The word "slave" was my first clue as to what this was actually about. I wanted to say, "What the fuck is going on," but decided that I would be better off keeping my mouth shut for a while.

We walked through a heavy door, down a corridor, and through another door into a large room. It looked like a comfortable lounging area, with couches, chairs and coffee tables. A large television sat against one wall. Through a doorway I could see what appeared to be a dining room. The place was big enough for quite a few people, but it seemed to be deserted.

"I'm going to take those handcuffs off now," said Theo. "You can try to run if you like, but there's really nowhere to go. None of the outside doors will open for you. And if you try to overpower me, be aware that my staff are watching the cameras closely." He gestured to several small hemispherical blisters on the ceiling. "If they see anything they don't think I can handle, in about three seconds you'll get a visit from several tough security staff with weapons."

He took the handcuffs off and gestured to a door at one end of the room. "There's a bathroom there if you want. It's been a long drive." I had been too terrified to notice that I needed to pee, but I noticed now, and took him up on the offer. Of course the bathroom had no windows, and nothing I could use as a weapon. And the door didn't lock.

Theo waited patiently for me to finish up and come out. He was sitting in an armchair, and gestured to another one opposite it. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll explain what's going on.

"I'm Theo. I've invested a lot of money in setting this place up as a brothel of sorts, aimed at men who want the kind of services that no ordinary sex worker will provide. They want to tie women up, maybe hurt them or maybe not, and fuck them any way they like. These are guys who aren't content with the willing BDSM partners they can pick up at bondage parties and such. They want to know that what they have in their hands is a genuine, non-consensual sex slave. I figure I'll give them about an hour and a half to do whatever they like to you. My only rule is that they can't do anything that will really damage you or leave long-term marks. You have to be in good shape for the next client."

I digested this, my mind reeling. Was he actually serious? I found it hard to believe, but why else would he have such an elaborate setup? I was on the verge of panic, but I grabbed it in both hands and forced it back down.

"As you can see, I'm set up for lots of slaves, but you have the honour of being my first. Don't worry, you'll have company very soon. I have my eye on a couple of other women who'll make good slaves. But you're Slave One, and that's what I'll be calling you from now on. I know you have a name, but I don't like to get too personal with my property.

"Let's go on a little tour." He stood up, and I did too. I wanted to run, but I was sure he wasn't kidding about the outside doors, so why bother? I was pretty sure he wasn't kidding about the cameras and security people either. I hadn't known Theo for more than a few hours, but I was rapidly getting the impression that he didn't mess around. But I'd keep watching and learning until I found a way to get out of there.

Theo showed me into a large, totally empty space, with only a couple of straight chairs for furniture. "This is going to be the showroom. Once I get more slaves, they'll be displayed here for clients to take their pick. I haven't quite decided how best to display them, but it doesn't matter until I get some more company for you and have some choices for clients to make." I was more aghast the more I heard from Theo about his plans, but for now I just filed the information with everything else this monster was telling me.

"Clients will come one at a time through that door, pick their favourite, and take them off through that door. Let's take a look at one of the entertainment suites, shall we?"

We entered a hallway with a number of doors leading off both sides - I think I counted twelve, but I'm not sure. Theo put his hand on the handle of the first one, labelled "1." "I only have three set up so far, but as you can see, I'm ready for expansion."

He opened the door and we walked in. I've always thought of "Her jaw dropped in shock" as just an expression, but now I realized that it really happens. By the time I had taken in what I was looking at, I was in total shock and my mouth was hanging open. I've dabbled a bit in consensual BDSM, although I've found it doesn't do a lot for me, and I've also watched some BDSM porn, which does more for me because of the fantasy element. But I had never seen anything remotely like this. There was a bed with straps and what looked like attachment points, a chair rigged out the same, a Saint Ambrose cross, chains hanging from pullies overhead, rings and brackets all over the floor and one wall, and shelves holding the most astonishing array of BDSM equipment I had ever imagined. I won't even try to list off all the gags, plugs, dildoes, floggers, restraints, and pieces of equipment whose function I couldn't even guess in my numbed state. Now, eight years later, I'm intimately familiar with all of them, but then, I just sort of went blank at the sight.

Theo let me stand there totally gobsmacked for a minute, and then said, "OK, let's get down to business. Until I get the showroom operating, you'll meet clients in here. I'll show you the submissive position I want you to greet them in. Take off your clothes."

As if I wasn't gobsmacked enough, that totally did it. "Are you fucking serious? You want to show me what!"

"You heard me. Take them off before I have to rip them off."

"That's about enough. You can keep me here, but you can't make me do what you want just by ordering me. You can shove that idea firmly up your ass and give it a sharp twist sideways."

Theo gave a slight sigh. "I was afraid of that." He looked up at the camera in the ceiling. "Jake, I could use a little help here."

In seconds, another man burst in. He was even bigger and more powerful-looking than Theo, and packed a baseball bat in one hand. "We have one here who needs to be shown the punishment cell. Hold her for me, will you?"

Jake grabbed my wrists in a vice-like grip and held them over my head. With one powerful pull, Theo tore my shirt open and ripped it down both sides so he could pull it right off. He yanked my bra up over my head, and Jake changed his grip as it came up to my wrists so Theo could get rid of that too. He held me right up off the floor so Theo could yank off my shoes, pants and panties, leaving me totally naked. Then, one on each side, they marched me down the corridor to another hallway with rooms off the sides. When Theo opened the door to one of them, I saw that there was nothing inside. Just a concrete wall with four short chains with metal shackles at the ends. Jake held me against the wall and Theo fastened the shackles on my wrists and ankles, pinning me in an uncomfortable spread-eagle.

"This is where slaves end up who don't follow the rules. And Rule One is that you obey anything a client, a staff member, or I tell you to do. No. Questions. Asked.

"This is a first infraction, so I will just leave you to hang here a while. But I want to show you what else I can do if you really piss me off." He got down a box from a shelf. Attached to it by wires were two metal dildoes. He shoved one roughly up my pussy and the other in my ass. Since he hadn't bothered with lube, they hurt like bloody hell, and I screamed.

Theo cinched a strap around my waist. Another narrow strap ran through the ends of the dildoes, and Theo hooked it in front and behind to the waist strap. He pulled it painfully tight so it disappeared in my pussy and asscrack, driving the dildoes all the way in and holding them there. Then he turned a dial on the box.

Instantly, a blast of electricity ran through me between the dildoes. I screamed again, and thrashed uselessly against the shackles. Theo only left it on for what was probably about ten seconds, although it felt like an hour. Then he turned it off.

"That was just a quick demo. Imagine that running off and on for two minutes or more at a time, for hours or maybe days. I want to be nice to you, and I'll look after you well, but only if you work with me unconditionally."

He undid the straps and pulled the dildoes out, wound up the wires neatly and put the device back on the shelf. Then he walked out and shut the door behind him.

There was a bit of light in the cell through the air grille in the door, so at least I wasn't in total darkness. I had no way to judge time, but Theo must have left me there for at least twelve hours. After a while I was so tired I started dozing off hanging in my shackles, but after a few minutes, the pain in my wrists would wake me up. I tried to hold my gradually escalating need for another pee, but eventually my bladder gave way and I felt a stream of warm piss running down my legs.

Finally, Jake and Theo opened the door, released the shackles, and grabbed me as I fell. Jake picked me up and carried me through the empty common room to another room full of individual cubicles with beds. Theo pulled down the sheets on one and Jake dumped me into it. I felt myself slipping away almost instantly. The last thing I remember was Theo saying, "When you wake up, I'll get you something to eat, show you the showers, and we'll try this again."

So that was what we did. After a meal and a hot shower to get the dried piss off my legs, Theo and I - me still naked - walked through the empty showroom to Entertainment Suite 1.

Theo pulled out his phone and showed me a picture, obviously from a porn site, of a naked woman kneeling, knees well apart to show some shaved pussy and hands behind her head to push her large breasts forward. "When a client comes in, I want you to receive him in exactly that position. He'll tell you what to do from there." I reluctantly imitated the humiliating position and looked up at him. "No. Eyes down, but don't bow your head. I want him to be able to check out your pretty face.

"I'll be your first customer. Lie on your back." Theo took some leather cuffs from a shelf. "I almost never use metal," he said matter-of-factly. "The punishment cell is an exception because it's supposed to hurt. But normally I don't like to leave slaves all marked up for the next customer." He buckled the cuffs around my wrists and clipped the other ends to two rings on the floor so that my arms were pinned in a spread-eagle position. "Now pull your legs up as far as you possibly can." I wanted to resist, but, remembering the electric dildoes, did what he said, putting my asshole and shaved pussy on obscene display. Theo inspected both closely, running his fingers between my lower lips and rubbing my asshole. "I love black pussy. It has so much more character than the pale white kind."

Then he got down another set of cuffs with short chains attached to them and attached my ankles, still pulled up almost to my shoulders, to two more floor rings over my head. "Once I know how flexible you are, I might consider chaining your ankles together behind your head. But I don't want to do that until I know I won't be risking a dislocated hip or something."

Theo walked over to another shelf and took down a large butt plug in what looked like blue silicone. There was a huge pump bottle on a night-table beside the bed, and he pumped some lube into his hand and rubbed it first all over the plug, and then around and in my asshole. "I have rules for clients as well as for slaves. One of them is that anything that goes in you has to be thoroughly lubed. I can't afford to have a slave off work with torn-up holes."

With that, he pressed the tip of the plug against my asshole, and began to turn it and push gently but very, very firmly. My sphincter automatically clenched up, which made the plug hurt at first, and I had to fight back a scream. But as it went in further and further, my hole opened up and it slid in more easily. When it got to the narrow snapback just before the safety flange, my sphincter clamped down and sealed it snugly in my rectal cavity.

"One of my personal rules for myself is that any hole that I'm not using at the moment should be plugged until I'm ready for it. One more to go." He selected a wide panel gag, somewhat like the one he used to capture me, but this one had a large ball built into it. "Ball gags are kind of cool because you can see that a woman has something stuffed in her mouth, but as restraints they're a joke. You can sort of talk or scream around them if you want to. But not this baby." He shoved the ball behind my teeth to hold my tongue firmly against the floor of my mouth and buckled the gag behind my head. I tried experimentally to make a sound, and sure enough, nothing came out except a feeble "Mmmph" through my nose.

He stood back and admired the way he had packaged me up, ass-plugged, panel gagged and cuffed in pretzel position with my pussy still on full display. "At this point, some clients might want to work you over for a while with a paddle or a flogger, add nipple clamps or do other painful things. But pain isn't really my personal idiom. I just like tying women up and fucking them."

With that, he unceremoniously stripped off his clothes. I couldn't help but admire his finely toned body, flat abdomen with well-defined 6-pack, and perfect, tight-looking ass. I had no sexual interest in him whatsoever, but I still like admiring good beefcake. And I was glad to see that his cock, already hard, was large but not the kind of firelog you sometimes see in porn videos.

He got another handful of lube and ran it around and inside my dry vagina. He played with my pussy lips and clit for a while and then slid two fingers in me, curling them slightly to stimulate my G-spot. While I wasn't exactly warming to the idea of involuntary sex with my kidnapper, I started to lube up a bit anyway, likely my pussy's way of protecting itself against what it knew was coming, ready or not.

Once he finished the warmup, he was ready to get down to business. He pulled his fingers out and began easing his cock in, centimetre by centimetre, until it bottomed out against my cervix. Once he had figured out how deep he could go, he kept it back a little so my cervix didn't get a painful pounding. Quite the gentleman, for a rapist.

Regardless, he could still fit all but the last couple of centimetres of his big cock inside me. He began thrusting, gently at first, pulling his cock almost all the way out before plunging it back. He began muttering, partly to me and partly to himself, "Oh, baby, that's one wonderful tight cunt you have there. And that plug in your ass makes it even tighter. It's been a while since I've had any; this is going to be so good!"

I hadn't had any for a while either, and I had to admit that it felt good to have some thick cock in me for a change. However, my terror and disgust fought with any trace of rising orgasm, and won - not to mention that my legs were beginning to ache badly from being restrained over my shoulders. None of this was calculated to bring on a rush of pleasure, no matter what you read in porn stories. Maybe if I had chosen this, but not under these circumstances.

Theo started to pound harder, still keeping back just enough that he didn't bottom out against my cervix but becoming increasingly urgent in his thrusting. Finally he drove his cock all the way in, held it, shuddered, and pumped load after load of warm cum all the way into me.

He laid on top of me for a minute, recovering from his exertions, and then pulled out, letting a little trickle of cum run down from my pussy into my asscrack and around the end of the plug. He took a cloth from a stack on the night table and wiped me up, then took another and did the same for himself.

"Most clients will probably just walk off and leave you like this, but Jake or I will be keeping an eye on things, and will come in to release you from whatever restraints they've left you in." He reached up and unfastened the cuffs around my ankles, and I gratefully let my legs down and stretched my aching knees and hips. Then he undid my wrists. "We're done," he said. "You can look after the rest." He watched as I awkwardly unbuckled the gag strap behind my head, then pried the ball out from between my teeth. I eased the plug out of my ass and stood there with the goopy devices, not knowing if I should just drop them on the floor or what. I really didn't want to piss Theo off again.

He pointed to a bin marked "Wash and Disinfect." "Used restraints go in there, if a client gives you the chance to dispose of them yourself." Numbly, I dropped the gag and the butt plug in the bin.

Theo walked me back to what I was beginning to realise were the slave quarters. I wondered if I was going to be spending all my time naked, but Theo showed me that the drawers in the sleeping cubicle held a neat stack of pyjama-like outfits, socks, and panties. No bras, although Theo later realized that this was an invitation to droopy breasts and started kitting us out with well-fitted and highly supportive undergarments.

My next few days started to fit into a pattern, marked by a daily session in which I presented myself as required, in a slave pose on the floor of the entertainment suite, and was variously tied up, suspended, flogged, and raped by Theo's clients in whatever holes they fancied.

As Theo had promised, two more women joined me shortly. First Tiffany, a blond white woman who had fallen victim to Theo's "date" con, and then Belle, a petite young woman with a gorgeous head of brunette curls and cute little breasts and narrow hips. She had been snatched off the street much the way I had been. They both looked just as terrified as I had been, and still to a large extent was.

Now Theo had enough slaves to make his showroom effective. He started out by displaying all three of us naked, posing in the same submissive slave position that he had been demanding of me. Then one day he announced, "I've been assuming that clients would prefer to see you unrestrained, so they can restrain you any way they want after they've selected you. But an informal survey of clients shows that they think it would be really sexy to choose from a lineup of women who are already bound and gagged. Even if they have their own tastes in bondage, they still enjoy the idea of unwrapping their Christmas present themselves."

He demonstrated on me first. He buckled a pair of wide neoprene cuffs onto my wrists behind my back. Then he buckled a medium sized spreader bar between my ankles, showing off some pussy between my thighs. Finally he said, "Somehow a bound woman isn't complete without some kind of gag." He cut a strip of wide microfoam tape and spread it over my mouth, sealing it shut.

"I think my clients will appreciate the way the outline of your lips shows through that tape. As you've discovered, they'll have a wide assortment of gags to choose from if they want to change things up."

So that's how we stood, bound, gagged and spread, while the evening's three clients came in one by one, inspected and sometimes handled us in turn, and led us off to whatever fate they had in store for us. I had thought that having to kneel with my legs spread and my hands behind my head to show off every intimate part I had was about as humiliating as it could get, but I was wrong. Standing completely helpless like that while men squeezed our boobs and ran their fingers through our pussy lips - that was as humiliating as it could get.

Wrong again. After a couple of weeks, we filed into the showroom as usual and stopped, not sure for a minute what we were looking at. In a line stood three steel poles with their upper ends formed into fat steel dildoes. Theo said, "I was watching some porn the other day, looking for inspiration, and just look what inspired me." He shooed us all into our usual line and applied the cuffs, tape and spreaders, except that this time we were astride the dildo poles, which were short enough for us to straddle. Not for long, though.

I was first up for Theo's new experiment in fuckmeat presentation. He rubbed a generous portion of lube over the dildo-shaped end of the pole, and some more into my pussy. Then he revealed that the pole telescoped. He pulled it up until the tip was pressing against my pussy, spread my lips apart, and guided it all the way into my vagina. He worked it gently but firmly up until he was satisfied that it could go no further, and then took a hex key and locked it in place.

I had seen this occasionally in porn videos, often titled something like "One Bar Prison." The point was supposed to be that, once you were so firmly impaled - spreader bar or not - you couldn't get yourself off unless you could levitate. Theo said, "This is an experiment. See if you can get off that thing."

We all squirmed and leaned sideways and back, trying to get the poles out of our snatches. I rolled forward into the balls of my bare feet and got as high on tiptoes as I could, and felt the dildo pulling frustratingly close to the outer end of my vaginal canal, but not quite far enough to get free. I settled back down as far as I could, ignoring the discomfort of forcing the dildo so far up my vagina, and then lunged upward as hard as I could, using the small bit of flex I could muster in my knees and all the rotation I could get out of my feet.

I'm sure the dildo didn't make an audible "pop" when it came out, but it came out of my lubed hole so suddenly that it seemed it should have made a pop. I had put so much into the half-jump that my momentum carried me forward, and of course with my wrists bound and my legs forced apart, I couldn't do anything to save myself from an embarrassing and painful pratfall. The best I could do was to twist so I fell half on my back instead of full on my face, and ended up rolled back with my feet in the air and my pussy on lewd display once again.

Theo came over and looked thoughtful. "Now I see why the girls in the porn shoots always wear stilettos. You need to take all the tiptoe potential out of them before you lock the dildo in place."

"Do you have to be so fucking clinical about this?" I thought, although of course I couldn't say it as I lay splayed out on my back with a big strip of tape over my mouth.

So that's how we have been displayed ever since, wearing ridiculously high red stilettos that afford zero tiptoe room. Clients seem to like it - as soon as they come through the door and get a load of the line of bound, gagged and impaled women, I can almost always see a huge bulge in their pants as their cocks try to force their way out. When they make a choice, Theo hands them the hex key to unlock the pole and slide the dildo out, and then they can march us off to slide in whatever appliances and body parts they choose when they get us to a suite.

More women quickly appeared. Stephanie, whom Theo had bought from slavers in appalling condition. Rachel, whom Theo had conned with a fake model photo shoot, a con he learned from how the slavers captured Stephanie. Grace, another snatched off the street. And so on, until he levelled off at twenty-five, which seems to just nicely satisfy demand and suit his perverted business plan.

So that gets us up to now. And, as promised, here's a variant on the usual bind, flog, fuck sequence that defines most of our working days.

One morning a few months ago, Theo called all of us to an unusual meeting in the common room. Once we were all settled in, he got straight to the point.

"I have a very interesting premium session coming up this afternoon. How many of you have played paintball at least a few times and consider yourselves reasonably good at it?"

A few hands went up right away. I could see other women hesitating, no doubt wondering whether they fit the description of "reasonably good at it," and also what "very interesting" was going to mean. I considered a minute, then put up my hand. I had played paintball from time to time before Theo captured me, and I had quite enjoyed it. I was good at the stealth component, and had gotten quite accurate with a paintball gun. All in all, seven hands went up.

Once Theo had given everyone lots of time to consider, he dismissed the others and kept us seven back for further briefing.

"You people will start the afternoon shift. The clients will be here at about 1:00, so I'll get you set up on your poles by about a quarter to. The clients will pick three of you for what I think will be a very interesting session that they've paid a huge premium for. You'll find out the details if you're chosen."

This had me really intrigued. "Clients," plural, for a start. We have occasionally had multiple clients for group sex before, but it's fairly rare. And I wondered how paintball would work into this. Theo wasn't saying any more, so I would just have to wait and see what happened if I was chosen.

Sure enough, we were all staked out and waiting by 1:00. Three clients came in together, all young guys dressed in typical paintball overalls. As usual, they went up and down the line of women, eyeing us closely and sometimes feeling breasts, bums and whatever other parts they felt like feeling up. One of them, a big blonde guy who seemed to be the de facto leader of the group, stopped in front of me and announced, "This one looks as though she could give us a good game. I'll pick her."

The other two picked Anabelle and Alice. I noticed that they tended to pick the taller, more athletic, and fuller breasted women. Assuming that we were going to end up as a paintball team, I was sorry that Rasheed and Serena hadn't put their hands up at the beginning. They would have made formidable paintballers, but I guess they didn't have the experience needed.

The three clients, whom I assumed were going to be our opponents, slid the dildoes out of us, removed the spreader bars, and got us in a row, still handcuffed and tape gagged. The other four women stayed behind, no doubt to be fortified by a few more women to entertain other clients on the rest of the afternoon shift.

Theo and Jake joined the group. I guess Theo had assigned other staff members to manage the rest of the shift. We started walking down a corridor, but it wasn't the one that led to the entertainment suites. It was the one that led to the parking garage. This was getting downright weird, but I was looking forward to anything that would break the monotony of our usual routine.

Theo told us to kick off our stilettos, which was a relief. In the garage, Theo led the group to the usual full-sized van with no windows in the back. Once we had struggled in - not easy with our hands bound - we realized that Theo had added two long benches, one on each side of the van. We sat in a row on one, and the clients sat on the other, facing us. Theo and Jake sat on a third bench facing back, keeping a close eye on all six of us.

As the van rolled off, I eyed the clients facing us. They looked uncomfortable, almost squirming in their seats as they faced a line of naked women whom they could see but not touch. The bulges in their crotches were visible even through the shapeless paintball overalls.

I was deeply enjoying their discomfort. It's not often that we get to torment someone else for a change. Every so often I shifted position, making my breasts jiggle slightly and ramping up the clients' discomfort another notch.

Finally Theo took pity. "OK guys, it's going to be a long ride. Why don't you unzip and let these lovely ladies take care of that for you?" All three unzipped the flies on their overalls and pulled out rock-hard cocks that looked as though they were quivering with anticipation. Theo peeled the tape off our mouths and made a "Get to it" gesture.

We didn't need to ask what we were supposed to do. I got off the bench and kneeled in front of the guy sitting opposite me, the blond guy who had picked me initially. I took the end of his cock in my mouth and started to run my tongue over the tip, licking his hole and working my lips around the head. He leaned back and closed his eyes in obvious contentment, holding the back of my head and working his cock gradually further in until it was going down my throat.

We've all had lots of practice controlling our gag reflexes. The row of three women, still in our neoprene handcuffs, throat-fucked the clients opposite with (feigned) enthusiasm, breasts dangling and jiggling in our kneeling positions. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jake and Theo watching closely, no doubt making sure the clients pulled back and let us come up for air frequently.

When my guy pulled back to let me breathe, I massaged his cockhead with my lips and tongue to keep his building orgasm going. Down my throat it went, until my lips kissed his balls, and then back out for another breath. I tightened my throat on him to give him a good cock massage and hurry up this chore I was having to perform. Finally I was rewarded by a gush of warm cum in my mouth, which I swallowed rather than letting it run messily down my chin and onto my chest.

I licked the last spurts of cum from the end of his cock and settled back on my bench. The other clients finished a minute or two later, and settled back onto their bench with looks of contentment. I was a bit disappointed; I had been enjoying watching their unrelieved lust and obvious discomfort, and their smiles as they put away their cocks and zipped back up weren't nearly as entertaining.

Finally the van stopped and I felt it backing up. Once the driver had parked it to his satisfaction, Theo got us to stand up as well as we could given the limited headroom. He re-taped our mouths and slipped blindfolds over our eyes. I could feel a long coat being draped over my shoulders.

"OK," said Theo. "You are going to be outside for a few seconds. I've checked the cameras and the area looks deserted, but just in case someone sees you from a distance, I don't want your condition to be obvious. That's why I've picked tape and blindfolds that roughly match your skin tones." Before Theo had put the blindfold on, I saw that it, and the tape, even had lips and eyes printed on them. They wouldn't fool anyone for a second seen up close. but to someone who just happened to glimpse us from a hundred metres away, we would just be three women walking with our boyfriends.

I felt a hand grip my arm firmly, just above the elbow - likely my blond guy - and I was led out the rear door of the van, along a metal gangplank and onto the concrete of what I guessed was a loading dock. I shivered slightly as the cool air hit my mostly-naked skin, but I enjoyed it, since it had been eight years since I had felt outside air. I inhaled the fresh air through my nose deeply and gratefully.

My mind raced. I was outside for the first time since I had been captured. I was closer to the possibility of escape than I had ever been. Could I break away from the grip on my arm and run for it?

I put the idea out of my mind. I was bound, gagged and blindfolded, and I had no clue where I was. I couldn't scream for help, and if I ran, I would only furnish more cruel amusement as I bashed headlong into some obstacle or other. And it hadn't escaped my notice that Jake had brought along his usual baseball bat. Giving up on this impossible escape plan, I just let myself be marched helplessly into what sounded like a huge indoor space.

I felt the coat being removed from my shoulders. The tape was peeled off my lips and the blindfold pulled off, and I couldn't believe what I saw. It was a gigantic indoor paintball course, complete with huge fake rocks big enough to hide behind, ruined walls and buildings, gullies and ravines, and what I assumed were probably plastic, but very realistic, trees and bushes. It looked pretty much like any well-designed paintball course I've ever been on, but I had never seen one indoors.

I wondered whether we were just going to be turned loose to be hunted down like the women in the "Hunting for Bambi" hoax videos of a few years ago. But Theo had specifically asked for women who were reasonably good at paintball, so I figured that this would be some kind of real game. At least I hoped so.

Theo waved his hand at the course. "This course was built a few years ago by a guy who thought he'd make a killing doing indoor paintball in the winter when the other courses were covered in snow and shut down. It did pretty well, but not well enough to service the debt he'd racked up to build it. Been closed and in receivership for over a year. I rented it from the receiver for today. There's nobody else here but us.

"Don't get any ideas about taking off. You'll notice that there are no windows, and the doors are as solidly locked as the ones back at my place. And there are cameras here, just like there. Tony, the driver, is sitting in the control booth right now, keeping an eye on things. The cameras were to watch for safety violations, but they are also good for keeping track of every move you make. And remember the punishment cells if you're tempted to do anything foolish. I'm trying to see if this sort of thing will work, and if you try to fuck it up for me, I think that's an electrified cunt kind of offense."

The three clients had fancy paintball masks decorated with various images. The guy who seemed to be leader had his painted up like a grinning skull. Another had flames all over his, and the third looked like a dinosaur head with huge teeth. Theo undid our wrists from behind our backs - although he left the cuffs in place, just not joined any more -- and handed us generic masks, the kind you would get in the sporting goods section of Wal-Mart or Canadian Tire. They weren't fancy, but they would protect our eyes and faces. I guessed the rest of our naked bodies would be fair game.

"Here's the rules. You each get forty rounds, no more. If you run out, you're out of the game, so I'd use full automatic sparingly if at all. You're out if you get tagged anywhere on your body except your mask - head shots don't count. If you're out, you sit on the bench until the game is over. The team with the last person still in the game is the winner.

"If the ladies win, you get to go back to quarters and carry on with your day. If the guys win, you all get to restrain and fuck the women absolutely any way you like.

"Final rule - no point-blank shots on naked skin. Nothing from less than three metres. I don't want my property covered in paintball bruises. The women can fire from any range they please, since their targets will be wearing heavy overalls. Besides, you won't cost me anything if you go home with bruises. Questions?"

Nobody had any, so Theo passed out paintball guns. The guys had brought their own, and Theo had brought some for us as well. I looked at mine - I didn't recognize the brand, but it looked like a really good piece of equipment. I suspected that it would be very accurate as long as I aimed it accurately.

"Women start over there. Men over there. Wait for my signal to start the game."

We took up our start positions on opposite sides of the field, barely able to see each other through the obstacles and fake vegetation. Once we were lined up, Theo shouted, "Game on!"

We hadn't had a chance to agree on a strategy, but without having to say anything, we split up. Alice broke right, Anabelle broke left, and I ran straight up the middle, sheltering in a replica ruined house and carefully peeking out from the edges of the window. I saw a mask behind a tree, but I didn't see any part of his body, so I held my fire rather than waste ammunition on a pointless mask shot.

I kept close watch on the tree, and sure enough, Firehead stepped out from behind it to scan for opponents. I took aim and fired off three shots, but the range was pretty extreme and all of them missed. All I did was give away my position. A couple of rounds came through the window and splattered on the wall behind me as Firehead returned fire. I needed to change position before he or either of the other guys got close enough to make their shots count.

I waited a few seconds, bent low, and sprinted from the house toward a huge fake rock. I realized one probable reason why the guys had chosen full-breasted women - my breasts dangled and bounced as I ran bent over. I hoped Firehead would be too distracted by them to take good aim. I heard several pops as he tried to intercept me, but I was quick enough that he couldn't get a good bead on me, and I made it to the rock without getting tagged.

I could see Anabelle crouching behind a low wall about ten metres to my left. From my position I could see Dinohead working his way along the other side of the same wall, but I was flattened against my rock and he didn't notice me. I think he was pretty sure Anabelle was on the other side of the wall and he was moving slowly and carefully to surprise her. I pulled back a little so there was no chance of him seeing me and signalled to Anabelle that he was there and coming close to the end. She nodded and quietly laid totally prone on the ground with only the front section of her body raised enough to keep her gun levelled at the space that Dinohead would step into once he came around the wall.

In a few seconds, he stepped around the wall with his gun raised, evidently expecting to see a naked sitting duck. It took him a half second to realize that she was on the ground, not standing to make an obliging target, and by the time he lowered his aim it was too late. She snapped off three quick shots that hit him twice in the belly and once in the crotch.

I don't know if she was intentionally going for his balls, but whether she intended it or not, the reaction was very satisfying. He let off one wild shot, dropped his gun, and clutched his crotch. The shot clipped Anabelle in the shoulder, causing a big splash of green paint on her white skin, but it didn't count since he had been tagged first. Theo, who had been watching, pointed at him and made a baseball-style "out" signal, then at Anabelle and made a "safe" signal.

I felt a rush of exhilaration at my team having drawn first blood. I couldn't remember the last time I had genuinely had fun doing something, as opposed to just passing the time.

Once he could walk again, Dinohead went sheepishly to the men's bench and Anabelle got back to her feet behind the wall. Knowing that her position was now compromised, she risked a sprint toward a cluster of fake bushes that would allow her to take up a new position. Unfortunately, Firehead had been able to work himself a lot closer by this time and was watching from behind an old car that had been towed there to act as an obstacle. He evidently expected her to make a break for it and was ready, risking ammo on a burst of automatic fire that sent a hail of rounds in her direction. One connected with her hip, splashing it with green paint, and another hit the side of her breast, causing her to clutch it in pain. Theo made the "out" sign, and Anabelle lowered her gun, removed her mask, and walked to the women's bench, still clutching her green-spattered breast.

When she got there and sat, Jake came over and refastened her wrists behind her. We all still wore our ankle cuffs, minus the spreader, and Jake fastened her ankles together as well. Obviously he didn't want to have to take time away from his assistant-referee duties to keep watch on deactivated players.

We were now two on two. Anabelle, still splattered with green, watched from the sidelines. She could see Alice crawling along the bottom of a little gully, trying to get a clean shot at Firehead. I wondered what had happened to Skullface, whom I hadn't seen since the beginning of the game. He seemed to be the most patient and skilled paintballer of the three, disappearing into the gaming field like a ghost.

Anabelle saw him first, sitting barely visible in a tree and watching for Alice to show herself. She yelled, "Alice! In the tree!" and Alice, alerted, was able to fire off a few shots in his direction. She didn't hit him, but he was forced to pull back out of sight and abandon his attempt to get in a sniper-shot at Alice.

Jake walked over to Anabelle, looking disgusted. "I guess we didn't say that deactivated players aren't allowed to kibitz, but let's make sure it doesn't happen again." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a panel gag with integrated stuffer, which he shoved in Anabelle's mouth before fastening the gag behind her head. That was the end of that.

I returned my attention to Firehead. I knew roughly where he had been the last time I saw him, and I hoped that if I just stayed quiet behind the rock, he'd eventually come looking for me or Alice and give himself away.

Alice was still commando-crawling down the bottom of the gully. Firehead must have known where she was by now, and I saw him sprint toward the gully, gun raised. I fired off a volley at him, but he was too fast for me to take good aim, and none of my shots connected. He surprised Alice at the end of the gully. She rolled quickly onto her back and fired, but she was too late. She had already taken a splash of green paint full in the middle of her chest and another a few centimetres over, right on the nipple.

One of her shots connected, but she knew that she had been tagged first. She pulled herself up, clutching her breast the way Anabelle had done, and made her way to the bench. Jake fastened her wrist and ankle restraints, and having learned from Anabelle, gagged her. He didn't have another stuff gag, but he wadded a cloth in her mouth and covered it with multiple strips of tape.

I stayed quiet behind my rock, knowing it was down to me now. I waited patiently, pretty sure that Firehead knew where the shots had come from and would eventually come looking for me. Sure enough, in a few minutes I heard the crunch of boots on the other side of the rock. He was coming around the rock to my right, and I held my gun at the ready, waiting for him to show.

I saw the tip of a gun barrel appear around the rock. I stayed totally still and held my breath. Then I saw an arm, then a shoulder. Now! I let loose a quick volley of six or seven shots, and two connected, splashing his arm with yellow paint. Jake made the "out" sign.

Just as I was congratulating myself, I felt the sharp sting of a paintball right on my asscheek. Fuck. I whirled around, and sure enough, there was Skullface, materialized from wherever he had been hiding. As I faced him, he peppered me with four more shots on my chest and abdomen. That's totally against the rules of any paintball game I was familiar with: once you're out, you're not a legal target any more. I guess he felt he had nothing to lose by having a little fun. If he hadn't been wearing a mask, I'm sure I would have seen a shit-eating grin on his face.

I took off my mask and joined the others on the losers' bench. Jake and Theo didn't bother to tie me up, since they could now give me their full attention. The other clients walked over from their bench, masks removed, and looked at the paint-spattered trio of naked women.

"Good game, ladies," said Skullface, no longer skull-faced. Addressing me, he added, "You've got a lot of balls the way you waited so patiently for Steve to blunder around the corner."

"OK Chance," Theo said to Skullface. "Your team won, and you were the last man standing, so you get first pick. Which of these lovely ladies would you like, and what would you like to do to her?"

"I still like the looks of her," he said, pointing at me. Theo handed him a satchel, which I guessed would contain a subset of the bondage equipment that graced the entertainment suits. Chance/Skullface led me back to the rock that had provided my cover for the last part of the game, and backed me up to it. It was tall and roughly cylindrical, with nearly vertical sides at the base. He reached into the bag and removed a skein of neatly coiled rope, unwound it, and tied a neat hitch onto the D-ring on my left wrist cuff. He walked around behind the rock, uncoiling rope as he went, and reappeared on my right. He fed the rope through the D-ring on my right wrist and used it like a pulley, pulling the rope through it to take up slack until I was tightly pinned spread-eagled against the rock. Then he cut off the long trailing end with a pair of surgical scissors from the bag and tied it off.

He did the same with my ankles, cinching them tight enough that my legs were spread widely apart to show part of my pussy between them. He reached into a pocket and brought out a marker that I hoped was washable and drew a neat circle around each breast. He wrote "3" inside each circle. Then he drew another circle around each nipple, just at the edge of the areola, and wrote "5" beside it - he couldn't write directly on my areolas because they were too dark for marker to show. Finally he drew a small triangle around the pussy-lips that protruded between my legs and wrote "10."

Oh fuck, I said to myself. This is going to hurt.

Anabelle and Alice, still bound and gagged, watched helplessly from the sidelines. Theo came over and paced off a distance from the rock. "OK guys. If you are going to use my slave for target practice, let's make sure it's sporting, and also from far enough away that you won't bruise her up any more than you have already. That's about ten metres, which should try your marksmanship and make sure that the rounds have lost some velocity." He picked up my mask from where I had left it on the bench and put it back over my face.

Chance said to Steve, "OK, you're first. Five shots each. Mask shots are zero, any other skin is one unless you can hit one of the numbered target areas. High score gets first pick of the cunts."

Steve changed magazines to get a different colour of ammo from the green that was still splattered all over the front of my body. He stood where Theo had indicated, brought his gun to his shoulder, aimed carefully, and fired a round. I think he was aiming for a breast, but the shot went wide and tagged my shoulder with red. "One," counted Chance.

Steve tried again, and this time he connected with my left breast, just at the inner edge of the circle Chance had drawn. I yelped - the range was long enough that it didn't hurt too badly, but it still really stung. "Three. Your total's four."

A third shot came in too low, missing my breast and hitting me just above the belly-button. "Total of five. You'll have to do better than that."

Steve aimed his gun a little lower and hesitated. I could hear him thinking, do I risk my last two rounds on a high-scoring twat-shot? Or play it safe and keep going for the tits?

Evidently he decided that he was too far behind on points not to take a risk. He aimed right for my exposed pussy and squeezed the trigger. A splash of red hit the rock just below the target. Zero.

He took a deep, steadying breath and aimed again. Pow! A direct hit on my spread pussy. My lips took most of the impact, but my clit, only partially protected by them, still felt the blow. My whole crotch erupted in searing pain. I screamed, and I could see Anabelle and Alice wince behind their gags. I could feel my lips starting to swell and get puffy from the impact.

Chance clapped him on the shoulder. "Nicely done. Fifteen's your total. Think you can beat that, Ty?"

Ty, aka Dinohead, stepped up. Theo held up a hand. "Take five. Let her pussy settle down a bit after that last shot." Theo walked up, parted my pussy lips with his fingers, and inspected. "No damage. Just wait a minute until she stops hurting."

I wasn't quite sure whether to be glad of the break or sorry I wasn't getting it over with sooner. I decided to be glad of the break, since I didn't have much choice anyway. My shoulders were starting to hurt from being pulled against the rock, but that was bearable compared to the fire in my crotch.

After a minute or two, Ty got his turn. He hadn't been the most able paintballer as Dinohead, and as Ty, he wasn't very accurate. His first shot went over my left shoulder and made a purple splash on the rock behind me. He corrected a bit to the right, but not downwards, and the next shot hit me on the side of my mask, splashing purple over part of my visor.

As far as I was concerned, this was going very well so far, but he obviously didn't think so. He swore, lowered his gun for a minute to regroup, then aimed a third shot. This was apparently designed as a tit-shot, but it hit me right in the centre of the chest between my breasts even though they were, frankly, a pretty big target. On the fourth he got lucky, hitting me right on the areola. He missed my nipple, thank God, but the purple splash was well within the circle that Chance had marked "five."

"Total of six," said Chance unnecessarily.

Ty, now hopelessly in the hole, decided to take the same calculated risk on a twat-shot that would put him ahead by one if he could make it. I could see him take a deep breath, hold it, and squeeze the trigger.

Purple splashed across my abdomen just above the line that Chance had drawn around my pussy. I yelped at the sting, but it was nothing compared to what I would have felt if he had connected with his target.

Ty tossed his gun on the ground in disgust. Now Chance stepped up. I had grudgingly admired his stealth work as Skullface, but he had spent so much time being stealthy that I hadn't had a chance to check out his marksmanship. I watched through the half of my visor that I could still see out of.

His marksmanship turned out to be as good as his other paintball talents. His gun popped, and my left nipple erupted in pain as orange paint splashed across it and covered up Ty's purple. Another pop and my right nipple joined it. Jesus, this guy was good. He had obviously spent a lot of money on an excellent gun, and had the eye and arm to use it.

Fearfully, I watched as he readjusted his aim back to my left breast. I involuntarily shut my eyes and clenched my teeth, waiting for a repeat blow to my still-stinging nipple. I got lucky - he hit my breast just above the five-zone. He didn't seem fazed by having to settle for a slightly lower score; he just adjusted his aim and went for my right boob again. Another pop, and a sharp blow to my right areola, not right on the nipple, but still on some pretty tender skin.

Fuck. He still had one shot to go, and I had a pretty good idea where it would end up. He had already won at eighteen, but he wasn't going to miss his final sadistic target practice. Sure enough, he adjusted his aim down, took a second to steady himself, and let loose his final round.

Pow. Orange spread over Steve's red, right on my already-abused lips and clit. I had been trying not to give any of them the satisfaction of hearing me scream any more than I could manage, but this time I gave up and let out a full-bore howl of pain.

Chance put down his gun, the shit-eating grin covering his face once again. Theo came over and inspected me again, and again finding no significant damage beyond flaming but temporary pain. He removed my paint-spattered mask and said, "OK Chance. You're obviously the winner of this contest so you get first pick again. Who do you want and where do you want her?"

Chance didn't hesitate. He pointed at me and said, "Her. It was a lot of work tying her to that rock, so I think I'll fuck her just exactly as she is. She made an excellent target; now I want to see if she makes excellent fuckmeat."

I watched Ty and Steve walk off with Alice and Anabelle, still cuffed and gagged. I could see Ty push Anabelle to the ground on her belly; he unclipped her wrists and fastened them to her ankles so she was folded up with her ass in the air. From the way he explored her asshole with his fingers, I knew what sort of treatment she was going to get.

Chance walked over to me with a cloth and wiped the worst of the paint off, although I was still a rainbow of colour. When he started to wipe my pussy, I nearly screamed again. It was still incredibly sore, and the prospect of having a cock up it was terrifying. Watching Ty in the distance pounding Anabelle in the ass, I made up my mind. I don't much care for anal sex, especially the rough sort of anal sex we usually get from clients, and if I have to take a cock in me, I'd normally rather it go in a hole that's made for the job. But this was different.

I knew he wouldn't spare my cunt just because I asked him sweetly, so I tried another tactic. "Look, Chance, my pussy is such a mess. You'll end up with a rainbow cock that'll take you a week to clean up. Why don't you fuck me in the ass instead?"

He looked me in the eye and said, "You know, sister, that's a damn good idea. I haven't fucked a rosebud for a while, so maybe it's time to try the tightest hole you've got." He untied the rope from my ankle cuffs, and I hoped maybe he was going to let me down and tie me up some other way on the ground, maybe the way Anabelle was restrained.

To my horror, he opened the satchel and retrieved another, longer piece of rope. He tied it around my left ankle ring, flung it up over the top of the rock, and threaded it through the ring on my right ankle. As before, he used it like a pulley, slowly cranking both ankles in the air in front of me until my feet were roughly level with my shoulders. He tied off the rope, leaving me in pretzel position with my pussy and asshole open for his pleasure.

I'm pretty flexible, and I been pretzelled more times than I like to think about (including during Theo's introduction to his entertainment suite), but I've always been on my back on a bed or a floor, not upright and pressed into a fake plaster rock. I winced as most of my body weight came down on my wrists, and was glad that Theo insisted on wide and flexible restraints to reduce damage. I was also glad that the plaster rock was smoother than a real one, but it was still digging punishingly into my back.

Chance dug a small bottle of lube out of his pocket and ran a generous fingerful around and in my sphincter. He shucked off his overalls, revealing that he was commando underneath, and put some more lube on his stiff cock. While he was getting my bottom half prepped, he spent some time enjoying the top half, sucking my nipples and pinching them between his lips so he could stretch them out and release them, letting them snap back to their normal size and shape. Theo's rules were very clear: no teeth on nipples. But his lips felt like little vices on my nipples, which hadn't quite recovered from their role as paintball targets. His face ended up smeared with various colours, but he didn't seem to mind. A turn in a hot shower would fix that up.

He stood back and took a long look at my folded-up body. I guess he was inspired by the way my pussy was exposed and pulled half-open, because he thought of another prelude to fucking me in the ass. He picked up his paintball gun and slowly forced the end of the barrel between my pussy lips, ending up with it pressed right against the opening of my vagina. He pressed a little harder, turning the gun back and forth slightly as if he were going to force it into me as far as it would go. In its current state, my pussy would have hated anything up it, but as the gun barrel was definitely not dildo-shaped, it was as painful as hell.

Jake and Theo were occupied supervising what Ty and Steve were doing to Alice and Anabelle, so they didn't see what was going on. Thank God I wasn't gagged. Theo was closest, so I bellowed "Theo" at the top of my lungs. Theo whirled around, saw what Chance was doing, sprinted over and kicked the gun out of his hand.

"You asshole," he yelled as Chance nursed his hand. "I don't know if you were really going to shove that thing up her and pull the trigger, or were just messing with her head, but I don't care. Do you know how long she'd be laid up if she took a paintball up her cunt at that range? Or how much it would cost me in lost business? Try something like that again and you'll be walking home with your undrained balls hanging between your legs, without your deposit."

Theo took a breath. "Now get back to the fucking you paid for. Within the rules."

Chance inspected his hand and decided that the kick hadn't done any serious damage, so he followed Theo's instructions and got back to fucking me. He seemed to have some anger issues to work out, because he gave my nipples a vicious twist and then jammed three fingers roughly up my anal canal. He worked them in and out a couple of times, hard, and burning pain erupted around my sphincter and shot up inside me. Then he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the end of his cock.

Thank God for all the anal training I do every morning. His cock wasn't as thick as the thickest of the training dildos, but the rough way he forced it up made even my well-trained sphincter try to clench in protest. Of course, that only made the pain worse, so I tried to get out in front of it and make my asshole relax and accept it. Eventually it did, and he shifted from forcing his cock past my sphincter to running it in and out rhythmically. He pulled it back until it was almost out, waited a second with my sphincter clenched around his cock-head, and then rammed it balls-deep, over and over with gradually escalating speed.

As I said, I am not a particular fan of anal sex. However, I had to admit that, once the initial burn subsided and I could feel my G-spot being massaged via my rectum rather than my vagina, it felt kind of good. It was certainly a nice change from having my tender bits shot at, anyway. I focussed on the erotic feelings because they distracted me from the pain in my wrists, my back, and my shot-up pussy.

My mind went completely to the well-lubed friction in my rectum and the pleasant feelings in my G-spot, completely blocking out the above-mentioned pain sites. I forced my breathing to relax, my inhales and exhales coming in rhythm to Chance's thrusting, my body working with his to extract some distracting pleasure from what was otherwise a really unpleasant experience. Gradually the pleasant feelings shifted from just distractions to erotic sensations in their own right, and I let my gradually building orgasm take over. I felt my nipples, which had finally stopped smarting, slowly hardening as the little waves of pleasure radiated up from my rectum and G-spot and began resolving themselves into larger waves of orgasmic sensation. Finally, I let the wave of orgasm break over me, surrendering myself to the reactions of my body. It wasn't the biggest orgasm I've ever had by a long way, but the excitement of the game and the anal stimulation I was receiving combined to give me a welcome sexual release.

Chance stopped at the end of a thrust, his cock buried in me to the hilt, and released a gush of warm cum deep inside me. It wasn't as much as his first ejaculation in the van, but he had done a pretty good job of recharging all the same.

After he pulled out, I hung there for a minute, oozing cum and shit from my asshole and panting as my body came down from its orgasm. Jake came over with a towel and wiped me up, then released my legs and helped me let them gently down. He untied my hands and stood ready to grab me if I fell after being restrained in such an awkward position, but I stayed upright and was able to walk shakily to the bench.

Alice and Anabelle joined me, also looking a bit shaky. Once the guys had zipped themselves back into their overalls and everything was collected, Janke removed the gags from Alice and Anabelle and rigged up the three of us in the skin-matched tape gags and blindfolds that we had come in with. Our wrist cuffs were connected once more and we were marched back outside, into the van, and to our bench. Jake removed the blindfolds, but left the tape in place.

Once more we were sitting, bound, gagged and naked, opposite our respective clients. Having had their rocks off twice today already, they didn't look as uncomfortable and they had on the way in, to our disappointment, but they still looked longingly at our naked and rainbow-coloured bodies. To rub it in, I jiggled my breasts at Chance, who was again opposite me. The stare that resulted made me feel empowered in a weird way. I was technically helpless, but I could still exert a bizarre sort of control over his mind. A place in my head told me loudly to quit while I was ahead, but I had set off on a slippery slope, and kept going. I rotated my shoulders, making my breasts sway from side to side instead of jiggling up and down. I let me knees drift apart slightly, giving him a glimpse of multi-coloured pussy.

He reached down, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock once more. Oh fuck. It was pretty soft, but I could see it starting to grow. I had had no idea he could have anything left in the tank that soon after having had his balls drained twice in a row.

Jessica, you idiot, said the voice in my head, the one that I should have listened to five minutes ago.

Chance leaned forward, peeled the tape off my mouth, grabbed me behind the head, and forced me to my knees in front of him, just like he had done on the way in. Pretty soon I had a mouthful of semi-hard cock, tasting and smelling faintly of shit from its recent trip up my ass.

I had had quite enough forced sex for one day, but I figured that the sooner I could give him what he wanted, the sooner I could get his cock out of my mouth, so I ran my tongue back and forth across his hole and worked my lips around his glans. It stiffened more and more, and soon I had his cock at the back of my mouth and was beginning to let it slip down my throat. Rather than waiting for him to start face-fucking me, I started face-fucking him, taking him down my throat as far as I could manage, holding for a second while my throat muscles gripped and massaged his cock, and then pulling back for a breath through my nose. He just sat, leaning back with his eyes closed in pleasure, letting me take charge of the blowjob instead of him pounding his cock into me.

This was a nice change: it was good to be able to take a breath when I felt I needed it and to feel a trace of power as I controlled his third orgasm of the day. I wasn't surprised to find that it took a long time to bring him off, considering how much exercise his cock had already had, but I worked him patiently, milking him with lips, tongue and throat while he breathed deeper and deeper until he finally shot his load. As you might expect, it was a pretty pathetic little load that I wrang out of his balls at the end of a long day, but he seemed to appreciate it just the same.

As I swallowed and settled back on my bench, I reflected. In one way it had been a day like any day, tied up painfully and forced to fuck a man I didn't know. But looking back on it, I realized that the game had been genuinely exciting, especially since it had real stakes: knowing Theo's perverse sense of honour, I felt sure that if we had won, he would have held the clients to their promise to let us end the day there and send us home unfucked for a change, aside from our quick blowjobs on the way in. Even though it ended with my most delicate bits being shot up, I didn't suffer any more pain than I often do in Theo's fucking entertainment suites, and the change of pace had been a welcome break from the monotony of slave life.

I looked over at Theo, smiled, and said, "That was a good day. I hope we can do something like this again soon."