The day started almost the same way as the day before. I woke up, felt horribly sore, discovered the bruises and marks from the night before, was denied clothes, got bent over and fucked by both Tom and Josh as casually as if they were talking about the weather. Before getting my first coffee, I got filled up on their cum and then sat at the table, wondering once more if and how this was going to continue. I knew Tom had invited the man from the place we had gone to last night to come over. I felt nervous but tried not to think too much about it.

After breakfast, I got a surprise as Josh took me out into the garden to a large pool. I have always loved swimming. The water was cold, but all the more soothing to my aching body, and I ended up having a lot of relaxed fun with Josh, whom I finally got to know a little better. It could have been a normal situation had there been any onlookers, but we both knew it wasn’t. I was supposed to be submissive to him, obey his orders, make myself available whenever he required it. The fact that he laughed with me didn’t erase the fact that there was a hierarchy, and that I was at its bottom.

Tom came out a little later, watched us for a while, and then took off his pants and sat down by the poolside with his legs in the water. He looked at me, snapped his fingers, and pointed at his cock. It was an order, and although I hesitated for an instant about following it, I swam towards him and did what he wanted, sucking his cock deep into my mouth and throat until I swallowed his cum. I again realized how much I loved this, loved his cock, his cum, his eyes on me, his hands on my breasts, and the fact that Josh was watching. I was bad, and I loved it.

Half an hour later, I found myself in the room where I had been the first night—showered, dried, hair and make-up done, naked and tied down in the middle of the table, hands pulled upwards, legs opened. Tom and Josh took their time with my wrists and ankles, doing their best to make movement impossible. I did try, though.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Josh said.

"Doing what?" I asked.

“Testing everything. I’ve seen my share of subs, and you’re the only one who always checks whether the bonds will hold."

"I don’t know," I said slowly. Did I? And was that bad? Something inside me rebelled at his use of the word "sub." I wasn’t a sub, was I?

When Tom and Josh (and me) had made sure I couldn’t move, they left and came back with plates of food, which they began to arrange on my body. Bits of vegetables, cubes of cheese, and crackers were placed artistically over me as they chatted and laughed. I couldn’t believe I was getting set up as a living plate, but then it wasn't as if my opinion mattered.

When they were done, Tom bent down and kissed me. He seemed pleased with the result.

"Rather appetizing," Josh observed.

"Exactly what I was thinking," Tom said. "But I wonder. Will she behave, or is brat also on the menu?"

"She doesn’t have enough slack to act up like she did when I took her to the pool." Josh smiled. "I didn’t punish her, but would like to later."

"Of course," replied Tom. He stroked the inside of my thigh, then pushed two fingers deep into my pussy. Once again, I was startled by how intensely my body responded to his touch.

"Listen up, brat," he said, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of me. "Marc’s coming over, and he’s someone very important to me. I won’t tell you to behave, because he’ll deal with you if you don’t. Don’t worry, Josh and I will be here through it all."

He pumped faster. "Marc should be here anytime. Be still, brat. If so much as one crumb falls off, you get the nipple clamps for 10 minutes - for each crumb of course. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Master."

"While we’re… dining, shall we say, you will not speak unless spoken too. Got that?"

"Yes, Master."

He kissed me again and withdrew his fingers. "Have fun, sweetie. I promise you this will be intense. But remember, use your safe word if you need it. No questions asked."

They closed the door behind them, leaving me helpless and covered in food. I felt very uncomfortable. My arms and legs were stretched to the maximum. I could move only my head, which I carefully lifted to see what I looked like dressed like a smorgasbord. I desperately hoped nothing fell off. If yesterday’s lesson had taught me anything, it was that I hated nipple clamps. The table was hard and the food felt weird on me. My predicament suddenly hit me full on. What the fuck! But it was too late for second thoughts.

I tried to relax, hoping I wouldn't need to sneeze or cough. It wasn’t long before I heard the doorbell, and then voices and steps. The door opened.

"Oh wow."

It was the man, Marc I assumed, from last night. He laughed, went around the table and stood so I could see him. Or so that he could see me. I felt very nervous. He was tall, with grey hair, and a smiling face which made me think of him as a grandfather rather than the man who had so casually fisted me last night. Yet he had, deep and hard, without even having seen my face before. I felt ashamed and didn't know where to look, whereas he looked at me intensely, as if he wanted to analyse me.

He turned to Tom. "She’s mine?" he asked, smiling.

"Yours for today," Tom said.

I shuddered. Tom’s words hollowed the pit of my stomach. I had just been given carte blanche to another man.

"Beautiful girl," Marc said, either to me or to Tom and Josh, who had taken their seats around the table.

Marc sat and they started their meal. There was more food on plates around me, but they were enjoying taking the crackers and cheese and vegetables that had been arranged on me from my shoulders to my mound. As they were taking it, they would touch me, sometimes pinching, sometimes caressing, sometimes exploring, always teasing. All the while, they were talking politics, football and even the weather, while I was completely ignored. I still fought to remain relaxed and not give in to the need to try and shake myself whatever little I could shake. I also knew that the longer it went on, the more my body would become accessible, and not knowing what was ahead of me made me feel tense.

It felt humiliating to be there at their mercy, a life plate covered with their food. And I knew that this was the kind of humiliation they were aiming for. I was reduced to being an object, submitted, helpless. They knew, and I knew, that I both loved and hated it; they knew how much this was a struggle for me. As if not enough, I was sometimes forced to eat bits of food from their hands, similarly to how you would feed a dog off your table. An intense mix of feelings built up inside me.

Marc picked a last slice of carrot off my breast and then moved to my pussy. I felt the coolness of the carrot as he touched my clit with it and then moved it up and down my pussy. I unwillingly shuddered. As much as I had been fighting it, my body had become addicted to this. He brought the carrot to my mouth, motioning me to open up and eat it. I refused and shook my head. I didn't like my own juices. He tried again; I refused again.

"Interesting," he said. I knew the others were watching him. "Is it a problem with obedience, or does she dislike her taste?"

"Both," Josh replied. "I wasn’t there last night, but I’ve heard enough to imagine what you’ve seen. She’s amazing when she’s given no choice."

"Where did you find her?" Marc asked.

"I bumped into her at her workplace," Tom said. "Had an idea she might be good. Managed to track her down at a concert, got to know her, and tried her out for two nights. She’d had no experience, but it was like she was sucked right into it, as if she had been waiting for it all her life. So I went for it."

I was glad to hear his voice, as I felt so tense and lost. But I didn't know he had seen me before the concert. I tried to catch a glimpse of him, but couldn't meet his eyes. He was right about when he started all of his kinky stuff. It had felt so incredible, so necessary, I had felt so alive... 

"Went for it?"

"Yeah," Tom said. "I convinced the others it was worth a try. We picked her up and basically dragged her into a minivan one night."

"You kidnapped her?"

"You were there?" Marc and I had spoken simultaneously, both sounding incredulous.

Tom slapped me. "You're not supposed to speak until you're asked to. And yes, of course I was there. I wanted to watch. And yes, it might have looked a little like a kidnapping. But she was free to leave."

Marc laughed. "I can’t believe you pulled such a stunt. You must trust her. I didn't teach you that though, did I?"

"No," said Tom. "You always let them come to you. I wanted to try this. Something about her gave me the impression that it would work. And it did."

"But you have a problem with her, no?" Marc stroked my hair.

"We have a potential problem. But it’s early days, still. I haven’t seen anyone so hungry for cock while at the same time fighting her own submissive desires. That’s all her. Saying no, disobeying. But she hasn’t used her safe word yet. She’s enjoying herself way too much to do so. She’s a bit of a puzzle, but I enjoy the challenge."

"You’ve always liked the difficult ones," Marc said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "You wouldn't do well with an easy sub. Tell me more."

Josh jumped in. "She’s cute. Naïve. Innocent. You can do almost anything with her. But she’s also headstrong. It’s like you have to push her to the breaking point before she’ll obey. Until you do, she fights you. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t, at least not when I took her out this morning."

Marc looked at me. I felt hot, ashamed. I hated to hear them talk about me while I was lying there like an object. Yet I loved to feel the strong grip of the bonds that held me and the hands that were wandering over me with the promise of more to come.

His eyes bore into mine.

"Open your mouth," Marc said softly.

I knew it was an order, and that he was used to being obeyed, but I stared back at him. I hadn't invited him, hadn't made any promise. I didn't want my own juices in my mouth. I hated that, always had. I kept my mouth shut, biting the inside of my lips.

"Sweetie," he said. "We are going to have so much fun together. Now listen. Every time I repeat an order, it adds points. The points are punishments I will chose for you. Do you want me say it again? You're on two points right now."

I looked at him, then tried to find Tom’s eyes. He looked at me and answered my unasked request. “You’re his. Obey him. I’m only here to watch. I am not going to help you out."

I looked at Marc, who was still holding the damn carrot next to my mouth.

"Open your mouth," he said. "Three points."

I had no idea what the points were going to represent in pain.

I spoke up, hoping that he would understand if I explained. "I don’t want my own jui—"

Marc shove the carrot into my mouth.

"I don’t care," he said. "Talk to your shrink about it if you must." And he put his hand over my mouth to stop me from spitting it out.

"Soft spots?" he asked.

Josh answered. "Her nipples, breasts in general."

Marc’s other hand pinched my nipple, hard, then harder. I winced.

"I’ll let go as soon as you eat that carrot." He smiled at me.

I chewed and swallowed. He waited a damn long time before letting go.

Their discussions went on, as did their hands. They were playing with me like they would play with a cat or a dog. I could tell Marc particularly was exploring and watching my reactions. Almost all the food had gone, leaving me completely exposed.

"Can I get some ice?" Marc asked

Josh got up and soon returned with a small bucket filled with ice cubes. He handed it to Marc.

They were looking at me.

"What are the no-goes?" Marc asked. "Her hard limits?"

Tom spoke. "No blood and no choking. She’s afraid of being choked. Perhaps I’ll try it again, but right now, it’s absolutely off limits. There may be other ones though as we move on."

"Okay, fine with me," Marc said. "Sweetie, tell me. What is it with disobeying?"

I didn't know what to say, feeling like a child that was being scolded.

"I think some of it’s related to what a good girl is supposed to do and not do," said Josh suddenly. "As if she can’t get over that, and needs to be at a point where the decision is totally taken away from her, and then she’s free to let go."

"Did you have a religious upbringing?" Marc asked.

I looked at him. He had touched a soft spot. I slowly nodded. And then saw Tom raise his eyebrows. He hadn't known that.

Marc smiled and stroked my head again. "Well, then we’ll help you let go. But I do suggest you obey."

He didn't want any deep discussion; I had understood that. He had wanted a simple answer before moving on.

"We’re to going to make you hot soon," Marc said. "So I think you might enjoy a little refreshment beforehand."

He reached into the bucket and took out two ice cubes, which he began rubbing in circles on and around my nipples. The cold bite into my skin, and my nipples stiffened. Had I no control whatsoever over my own body?

"You will address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master.’ You will obey me. You will be punished and rewarded depending on how well you please me."

His voice, his commands, hypnotized me. The cold spread from my breasts to the rest of my body.

"Fill her pussy and ass with ice," Marc said.

He took more ice cubes from the bucket and pressed them against my breasts. I winced. I had always disliked cold. Josh and Tom inserted several cubes into my pussy, which made me struggle against my bounds. Tom freed one of my ankles and held my leg up to give them access to my ass. I fought to control myself, but the cold and feeling of getting filled overwhelmed me, particularly when Marc forced open my mouth and pushed several ice cubes in. I felt my insides getting stretched and icy, everything was burning with the cold. I fought against the bounds and the hands that were holding me and inserting more ice whenever and wherever they could. Finally, what was left in the bucket was emptied on my stomach, and they continued to rub ice into me everywhere, inside and outside, until it all had melted and there was nothing left but my wet and trembling self.

Upon a signal from Marc, Josh began stroking my cold pussy, and to my dislike, my body reacted. His fingers burned hot on my cold flesh, in my frozen pussy. Marc pushed several fingers into my mouth and held my head down by putting his hand over my throat. His touch was determined, but he didn't choke me. I fought him as well as the urge to surrender to Josh’s caresses. I tried to shake my head, speak, protest, get my leg out of their grip, all to no avail.

"Fight all you want," Marc said, staring into my eyes. "You’ll come because I say so. Cum, little girl, cum!"

Josh stroked me faster and I knew I was going to come. I moaned and tried again to break out of their grip and control. Tom moved to the other side and started rubbing my breasts with one hand that burned on my skin while pushing his other hand on my lower tummy which stopped me from moving away from the fingers inside me. Josh thrust deeper and harder, warming and rubbing me, making me wild and wilder. I moaned, biting Marc’s hand without him releasing his grip. I tried to hold back, but then, I let go and pushed onto Josh’s fingers instead of away, and within seconds, a strong orgasm swept over my body and left me shaking and weak, limp in their hands.

Marc didn't give me any time.

"Fingers in her mouth," he ordered Josh, who duly moved over and replaced Marc's hand with his own before I could close my mouth.

I felt dizzy, but couldn't look away from Marc who now motioned for my bonds to be removed. I didn't like Josh’s fingers with my pussy juice in my mouth, but hadn't enough fight in me left. My hands and feet were untied.

"Suck his fingers clean," Marc ordered.

I reluctantly obeyed.

"I see what you meant," Marc said to Tom.

"Fun, isn't she?"

"Most definitely," Marc said, then turned to me. "Get off table and kneel before me."

I found his tone to be a bit much, but, still feeling dazzled by my orgasm, the cold and the heat, I simply obeyed. I got down from the table and, after a slight hesitation, on my knees before him, looking up and trying to see his eyes.

"Good. You’re okay?"

I nodded.

Marc smiled. "Great. You’re a firecracker, girl. I want that pussy sooner rather than later. We’re going downstairs now."

I must have looked confused.

"You haven’t taken her downstairs, have you?" Marc asked Tom.

"No, we’ve had our hands full," he replied.

"You’re sure it's okay if it’s me taking her for the first time?"

"Yes, but I want to keep some things for myself."

"Sure. Thanks for the honours."

"You’re welcome," Tom said. "I’ll be watching the master at work." I could hear him smile.

"I want a name for her," Marc said. "Her real name or a fake one, I don't care. Just give me a name."

"Call her ‘Ann’ then," Tom answered.

Marc laughed. "As in anonymous, gotcha."

He looked down at me. "Listen. What you want or think no longer matters. Here and now, you are Ann, my sub, my slave, nothing else. Keep your eyes downcast at all times. Keep your mouth slightly open at all times. You will not speak unless I give you permission. And when I do, you will address me as I told you. My orders come before anyone else's. Did you get all that?"

I nodded.

"Eyes down then," he said.

I cast my eyes down, feeling immediately as if I was giving up whatever little control I had. If I couldn't look at his face, I couldn't even try to guess what was coming.

"I want a collar on her. I know you want to wait, but I want one for today."

"I don’t think she even knows what that means," Tom replied. "She’s new to all this, remember."

"Fine with me, you’ll teach her what it means later on. But I want her collared."

Tom left the room and soon came back with something black in his hand. I didn't understand what this was about, nor why he would follow Marc’s orders. I was beginning to take an intense dislike towards Marc, who had left me with no loopholes. Yet I waited, on my knees, starting to feel normal again as the cold and the pangs of my orgasm ebbed away.

Marc bent down and to put what looked like a dog collar around my neck. Without thinking, I backed away, out of reach. Tom grabbed my hair and pulled me back into position.

"No!" I yelled. "I’m not a fucking dog!" I held my hands in front of my throat.

"Down," Marc scolded, and both he and Tom pushed my head downwards, almost to the floor.

"Fun, you say," Marc said to Tom. "I think she might have masochistic tendencies after all!"

Then he leaned over me. "Listen up, Ann. You’re not a dog, but you are a bitch, and bitches wear collars. Refuse it, and I’m out of here and you can see how you arrange things with your master. I want you collared. Get it?

"Why?" I demanded.

Marc slapped me. "Try again."

"Why, Sir?"

"Better. A collar is a symbol of submission. You’re not ready yet, which is fine. But I want one on you for today. I use collars to direct my bitches, to hold them, to train them. It will help you remember you place. At one point, your man is going to collar you when and if you deserve it. Now, make up your mind. Continue with me or not. I’m not going anywhere with you without this."

I didn't want him to leave. I disliked this man as much as I was intrigued by what was going to happen. Downstairs?

"I’m counting to three. If you have not raised your head to show me you will allow for the collar, I’m out. One."

They both released their grip on me and I instinctively put my hands around my throat. Tom would want me to accept it. Tom wanted me to please this man.

"Two."

But why was Tom so submissive to him? Why didn't he protect me?

"Three."

I raised my head and dropped my hands.

"Good girl," Marc said, as he slung it around my neck and buckled it, not too tight, not too lose. Then he let go of me.

It felt strange to have this thing on my neck. I didn't like it; it felt like a bad movie. I had heard them talking about collars, but I couldn't imagine this was for real. Yet somehow, wearing it did something to me. I tried to touch it, it was made of soft, yet solid, leather with a sturdy, tight buckle. It wouldn't come off by accident.

Marc grabbed me by the collar. "Crawl. We’re on our way."

I could have cried at this point. It was so humiliating to be crawling on all fours, led by a dog collar. For the first time, I started thinking about giving it all up, using my safe word, but I couldn't bring myself to it.

We left the room and went through the hall. There was a staircase at the end of it. By the time we got there, my knees and hands were sore and hurting.

Marc stopped at the top of the stairs. "Good cop, bad cop, okay, Tom? You get her downstairs however you like." He hurried down the stairs.

Tom and Josh hosted me to my feet and I got a hug from Tom. That felt good. Josh caressed my head. "Won’t you be glad when you’re just with us from now on?" he whispered in my ear.

It made me giggle a little.

"Hang in there, girl," said Tom calmly. "Much to do, much to learn, much to enjoy. I trust Marc, I want you to trust him."

Down we went, and stopped at a door I had never passed through. I was glad I had Tom’s arm around me as well as Josh on my other side. I felt scared. Tom knocked.

Marc opened it, looked at me, then pointed at the floor. I knelt and lowered my eyes.

"You’re coming in here as a sub, wearing a collar and a different name. I want you to be conscious of that, this is important. Things will be different here than what you have known. Nobody is going to force you. You can crawl through this door of your own free will or turn away. Ann, the choice is yours."

I crawled into the room, feeling almost deafened by my own heartbeat and trying to keep my eyes down while also trying to see what there was. A lot of bizarre things. The air felt fresh and light, yet it was rather dark, with dim light shining from the corners. No windows. Marc took me by the collar and led me towards the centre of the room, in front of three chairs on which they sat. The atmosphere was silent and tense as I knelt like an accused in front of her judges. Marc let some minutes go by, which made the tension inside me almost unbearable. Then he spoke.

"Stand."

I got up on my feet.

"Get on your knees."

I sank to my knees.

"Stand."

This time, I hesitated. What was this meant for? I looked at him, his face said he meant it. I stood up.

"Kneel."

I obeyed.

"Stand."

Again, I looked at him, then stood.

"That’s two more points on your list. Careful. Kneel."

I understood now that he was playing with me, trying to teach me obedience. I knelt. Then stood again. Knelt again, stood again. Over and over again. So long that I did it automatically.

"Touch your breasts."

What? I glanced at him, then down at my breasts which I cupped. My breasts were full and tight; I had received many compliments for them. Now, there were several marks on them as well as my nipples, reminders of the last three days of entering this strange universe.

"Show me your ass."

I turned around.

"When I say show, I mean show."

I bent over.

"Spread your cheeks."

I did, exposing my brown hole and my pussy.

"Bend over more, touch your ankles."

I did.

"Touch the floor."

I put my hands on the floor.

"She is rather limber," Marc said approvingly. "Good."

There was another moment of silence.

"Rub your cheeks."

"Kneel."

"Stand."

"Kneel."

Order after order after order. Until I began to obey without thinking.

"Come to me."

I took a step towards him.

"Crawl."

I knelt and crawled to Marc.

"Undress me."

I looked up. He didn’t move. I rose and unbuttoned his shirt, which I then took off him. I undid his belt and trousers, but couldn't go further.

"Please, Sir," I said. "Would you stand up?"

"Good girl," he said with a smile.

I pulled his trousers and pants down. I was happy to see he was clean shaven around his cock, which seemed as hard as before. A beautiful, straight, and strong cock.

"You see, little one. Your obedience is a turn-on. If you want to please your masters, obey."

He sat down, reached under his chair into a box, and retrieved something from it. "Lay down over Tom’s knees."

I did. Tom put his hand on my neck and positioned me so that my ass and pussy were exposed. I felt the warmth from his body. Marc began to finger me, first my pussy, then my ass.

"She’s so tight... but can stretch quite a bit. Remember when I fisted you, little one?"

I nodded, then quickly added a "Yes, Sir."

"I put my fist inside you. I felt you, how you reacted. I know what you are, Ann. You’re a slut and a sub. You love cock. You love being fucked and used by men." He laughed. "You’re not the good, clean and proper girl you pretend to be."

I was glad my face was hidden. While his words wormed into my mind, he pushed something into my ass. I let him do it, but then realized it wasn’t his fingers. It was something different, and big, too big. He smeared something cold around my asshole and continued pushing this thing into me.

"Push against it," Marc ordered.

I did, and all of a sudden, the object popped in, as if my ass had swallowed it. It filled me up, while at the same time closing my ass.

"How does it feel?"

"What is it?" I asked.

As a reply, I got spanked. Marc counted to ten, five smacks on each cheek, hard, strong and fast. The thing on my inside moved painfully with each slap.

"How does it feel?"

"I don’t know—" I received another ten smacks. By now, my ass had begun to burn, inside and outside, and his smacks made me want to moan.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels good, Sir."

"You are a slow learner, Ann."

"I am sorry. I will get better, Sir." The words poured out of me spontaneously, but seemed to please Marc.

He rubbed my ass cheeks. "I will not explain to you what I do or what things are. Take them, accept them, that’s all."

"Yes, Sir," I whispered, not sure if I was supposed to say anything.

"It’s going to stay in your ass until I want it out."

"Yes, Sir."

"Stand."

I stood.

"Kneel."

And I knelt, moving carefully and feeling stuffed by the thing in my ass. Marc got up and took me by the collar, leading me to his right towards something that looked like a table but had rounded edges.

"Lean over this," he ordered.

I obeyed, and he pulled me forward and put my hands on something like handles.

"Hold on to this. I’m not going to tie you. You are responsible for keeping your position and holding on."

I laid stretched out on this surface and held on to the handles. He adjusted the position of the table, tilting it so that I ended up only slightly up bent over, but nearly suspended and supporting my own weight. I was almost tiptoeing and felt unsteady. He bent down and put something around my ankles. I shuddered. It was cold and I understood that we had left behind the warm and flexible rope I liked, that he was using ankle cuffs attached to a metal rod to hold my legs wide apart. I couldn’t close my legs.

"Right," Marc began. "You earned three points when you refused to open your mouth, ten when you balked at the collar, another four from obeying too slowly, and three more for not answering my question. You may confirm this count."

I hesitated. It wasn’t fair, but if I protested, he would add more points. "I confirm, Sir."

"How many points?"

"Twenty, Sir."

"That’s twenty strokes with the belt. I like using a belt. Ann, you will count aloud and I expect you to thank me after ten slaps, at which point I will turn you to give the other ten on your front."

I was trembling. I wasn’t going to be able to do this, to take this. It had been different upstairs. There had been the question if I was okay, there had been the occasional hug and encouragement. Down here, it was cold, and neither Tom nor Josh had said a word. My position was terribly uncomfortable, and I feared I would let go and fall over.

Marc now held his belt in his hand, the belt I had undone before.

The first blow fell very low, almost at the height of my ankles.

"One," I winced.

The next was a little further up.

"Two." I tried to breath slowly.

The next one hit the backside of my knees.

"Three."

He went slowly, methodically.

Four on my thighs. Five and six on my ass. My eyes teared up, yet I somehow managed to think of Tom and his voice yesterday, the way he had directed me through pain. I breathed, felt the waves, tried to accept them, go with them, rather than fight them. Seven and eight landed on my lower back, Nine and ten on my upper back and shoulders. The burning set in with a vengeance, mounting from my feet to my shoulders. My skin was on fire, and I could barely hold on and breathe without moaning and crying.

"Don’t move," Marc said. "Stay."

I did. I felt the burning of my skin, but now, also, my pussy throbbing and my hard nipples pressing against the table.

"Do you want to tell me something, little one?"

"No, Sir."

"I think you do. Tell me about your pussy."

I was blushing. I couldn't admit that his beating had aroused me.

"My… my…" I stammered helplessly.

"I am counting to three, and if you haven’t said it by then, it’s an extra five for you. One."

"My pussy is wet, Sir," I said meekly.

"And what does that mean, little one?"

"I… I want to. I need to…" I couldn't speak a complete sentence.

"Little slut," Marc coaxed. "Come on, say it. You want someone to fuck you, because your cunt is dripping wet because you like it here."

His words sounded cruel. Yet they were true.

"Say it now."

Suddenly, it poured out of me. "Please, somebody, fuck me. Please fuck me."

The belt landed across my ass. "Did you forget something?"

"I am sorry, Sir. Thank you Sir!" My eyes were tearing up more and more.

"You may turn around. We’re going to see how wet you get, and how you react."
 
I obeyed, the bar spreading my legs forcing me to take tiny, waddling steps lest I lose my balance. My eyes met Tom’s. He smiled. He was relaxed in a chair with his hand inside his pants stroking his cock.

I grabbed the handles above my head and held on. The muscles of my arms were shaking by then, but again, I had no choice. I closed my eyes and awaited the first blow. It fell over my breasts and almost made me scream.

"One."

Like he had done before, Marc moved slowly. He hit my already bruised body with unashamed pleasure. Two and three got my tummy, and I dreaded the blow that would aim my pussy and from which I couldn't protect it due to the thing that held my legs apart.

But four landed on my upper legs, and five, six, seven, and eight went further downwards. Then Marc paused.

"I am going to slap your pussy now, Ann. Ask me to do it."

Oh no! I was reeling already, trying to hold on, trying to deal with the pain and obey him. My pussy was pulsing, and I felt a drop slowly running down my leg.

"Please, Sir, whip my pussy," I blurted.

"That doesn’t sound convincing." Marc took a step towards me, and fondled my pussy.

"Look at how wet you are, little slut." He brought his hand up to my face, first under my nose. "You know what I want," he added calmly.

I opened my mouth and let him feed me.

"Good girl," he said, and slowly caressed my cheek. "Now tell me, what does it mean if your pussy is so wet?"

"It means I… I like it."

"Ann, these are just words. We all know you like it, we wouldn't be here otherwise. Stop being afraid to say it. Live it! Ask me to slap you."

"Please Sir, punish me."

"Oh I will, slut." Marc raised the belt and brought it down on my pussy.

Fire exploded within me. "Nine!" I wailed.

The next blow fell and I screamed. My pussy stung and I screamed because I couldn’t do anything else. Searing pain raced from my pussy right to my head, making me dizzy and lose control of myself. Before I knew what happened, Marc thrust his hard cock into my wet and throbbing pussy. I couldn't stop myself from wailing, especially as my ass was so full and that added to the feeling of being overwhelmed. Marc shot his cum into me, but I wasn’t done. I had let go of the handles and leaned on the table more than standing, but when Marc pulled away from me, I lost my balance. He caught me, then pushed me over to Tom and Josh.

"Fuck her," Marc said, dropping into his chair. "Anyway you like, but leave the plug in her ass."

Josh had already taken his pants off. He pushed me across Marc’s knees and took me from behind, one hand on my tit which he caressed and crushed at the same time. He was turned on as hell as he mounted me, but he fucked me hard and thoroughly before coming. I was moaning and wailing, unable to think clearly. I came several times, uncontrollably, and was crying. When Josh pulled out, I slipped to the floor.

"We’re going to take a break," Marc said to Tom. "Leave you alone with her." He stepped over me. "See you in about an hour." He and Josh left the room.

There was a silence. I tried to breath and collect myself, but my body was shaking uncontrollably. Tom helped me up and almost carried me to a thick mattress in a corner. It looked a bit strange, not like a normal mattress, but he pushed me down on it before taking his pants and shirt off and joining me. He hadn't said a word, but climbed on top of me and kissed my face, and then my mouth. He went over my breasts which he kissed and massaged and pinched, then down over my belly, to my pussy, which he gently licked. I almost shrieked from this soft touch, but soon gave in to his soft tongue lapping at my swollen clit and still throbbing pussy.

He got off me, turned me around and positioned himself between my legs which were still held wide by the spreader bar. He pulled my hair and I arched my back as he pushed into me.

"Jenny," he whispered as he fucked me. "My brat. My slut. Mine."

Like the night before, his fucking me was different from the others. His hands roamed everywhere, as if he was needed to assure himself I was there. He bit me, talked to me, pinched my skin, caressed me until I broke into another orgasm that soon pushed him over the edge. He shot his cum into me again and again, and I felt strangely complete now.

He pulled out of me and wrapped me in his arms. I was too exhausted to think or talk. I closed my eyes and the room vanished until, maybe half an hour later, Tom gently shook me. He took the spreader bar off my legs, made me get up, and then led me to a cage. I couldn't believe my eyes. A cage! He opened the door and motioned me to crawl inside.

I stared at him and slowly shook my head. No. I wouldn't go into a cage.

He sighed. "Jenny, you brat."

And then he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of his trousers…

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To be continued.
Many thanks to Visioneer - I simply couldn't do it without you and your perverse obsession for punctuation . :-)