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“I don’t need your apologies. I need your surrender. First, you need to earn the respect of these people. To them and to me, you are nothing.”
I bowed my head. “Yes, sir.”
I waited as he paced around the room, furtively following his movements with my eyes. I grew more anxious by the moment – certainly part of his plan. “We’re going to return to one of your favorite fantasies, one you wrote about it in your journal in such rich detail. You love to dance, to turn men on as you do. Am I wrong?”
“No, no sir,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“You even gave us an example of that a couple weeks ago – although that effort was fraught with anguish, as if I were tormenting you. How about you try again, and get real with it.” His face was positively evil as he gave the command, “Dance slut, make us want you.”
This time, there was no music to inspire me, nothing but the eyes and the electricity in the air. I tried to let that feeling get inside me, and so I began to sway my hips. At first, my movements seemed unnatural, a bit too forced and mechanical to be erotic at all. Even worse, I made the mistake of catching Reggie’s eye – the cold, critical stare and the judgment behind it. I was failing in his eyes and was certain that any minute I would be hearing some vindictive comment meant to humiliate me further. I dug in, determined not to let that happen. As if my determination was all I needed, I suddenly heard the sexy music from The Tropics playing inside my head. I imagined myself in that smoky bar, with the glaring pink and green neon flamingo blinking behind me. The tension in my body began to melt and my dancing became more instinctive, less mechanical. I was there in the bar again, the center of my body, my crotch, like a magnet for their eyes. I could sense them looking and as long as I didn’t have to look at the surrounding company of perverts I could maintain that dreamy state and perform. The more I danced, the more daring I became. I played the slut, the tramp, the role that Reggie demanded of me. I cupped my breasts in my hands, pushing my tits higher in the dress until both nipples popped out of the bodice. I pinched them to make them grow erect, and when that was not enough to please me, I dampened them with my fingers and blew on them to chill the pinkish-purple flesh. I fondled myself before their eyes, raised my skirt and squeezed my ass. Then there was music, real music coming from Reggie’s speakers, raw, sexy, reggae syncopation and the beat of tribal drums. My head was swimming, my body oozing lust. I could have entertained them all night like this and loved it – a far cry from my previous attempt.
But above the music and the roar inside my head, came Reggie voice, “Cuff her!” I felt the voice inside my crotch, high between my legs and could have come if he’d only reached up under my skirt and played.
Two men descended on me with wrist and ankle cuffs, and I danced between them as they buckled the cuffs in place.
“On your knees,” I heard that distinctive voice again and dropped to the carpet, to my hand and knees, my body still swaying lewdly. By then, the leather dress was bunched up at the middle leaving my breasts dangling beneath me and my ass entirely naked. “Crawl to Elliot, and remove his cock,” the next instructions.
I found Elliot’s prick already hard; and though I wanted to suck it as soon as I pulled it from his pants, I waited for Reggie’s command before I took it into my mouth. As soon as my lips greeted the swollen head, I heard Elliot speak, “Fuck it, slut,” as he grabbed my head and pushed himself down my throat. I wanted to gag and had to forcefully stop that natural reflex. At least for a few moments he probed me deeply, and I was thankful when he finally backed off a bit and allowed my tongue, and lips and teeth to pleasure him. I ran my tongue around the rim, then down the shaft, then sucked him hard, using my hand and mouth, taking him totally inside, then out again, again and again until I could feel his body starting to tense with the climax on him. Just as he was about to ejaculate, he abruptly pulled out, held my head firmly in one hand and shot his load on my face, letting it splatter everywhere he aimed, until his milky cum ran down my chin and neck and between my breasts. I could feel it tickling me, sticky and thick. The aroma of it rose up around me like a cloud.
“Crawl to the table and mount it,” Reggie’s voice boomed out, and I was nudged by Elliot in that direction, I crawled forward and mounted the hard wood surface, resting there for a moment on hands and knees – but only as long as it took for Gus to arrive at my side with a paddle in hand. The smooth wood was about four inches wide, and from the moment it connected with my ass, it sent sharp stinging jolts of warm pain through me in every direction. He smacked my bottom with as ruthless a stroke as he’d strapped it days before. I thought he’d never stop, and though I attempted to keep quiet, the pain soon became so biting that I couldn’t stop myself from crying out. When he paused for even a second or two, the pain immediately became erotic. I swayed my hips, inviting him to fondle me.
“You selfish little slut!” Gus snarled at my display and then whacked me even harder. I knew the man enough to know that he loved every minute of my torment – and strangely I did too.
Then a twist on the scene I did not anticipate. Reggie’s voice again. “She’s yours to auction.”
My body instantly recoiled, and I’m quite sure that I gasped, “On no,” loud enough to be heard, but maybe not. I would have expected another smack of the wooden paddle but there was none, no response at all.
Gus took over from there, while Reggie returned to the side of the room to watch his drama unfold.
“Go get me the gag, the hood and the collar, and bring them back in your teeth,” Gus demanded, as he nodded to the cabinet of sex toys on the far side of the room.
My ass was smarting from the warming it suffered, which generated a sensuous tightness as I moved off the table and made the slow crawl across the room. The items required were waiting for me on the
floor, and I snatched them like a dog would a bone and crawled back to the waiting Gus. By the time that long crawl was over, I’d become meek, lowly and subservient. As amenable as a sleepy child, I let a buxom blonde dominatrix fit the hood over my head and fasten it to the connecting collar she buckled around my throat. Every small act reduced me further, and once she pushed the ballgag into my mouth, I couldn’t see and I couldn’t speak. Another lesson in surrender.
“Stand,” I heard the command.
Moving was painfully awkward, and I felt so disoriented that I was getting a bit light-headed. I must have looked like a clumsy, feeble slave to the watching audience.
“Now on the platform.”
I reached out for someone to assist me, and when there was no help offered, I shuffled forward until I stubbed my toes on a block of wood and stumbled forward, catching myself on the wooden platform. Gus smacked my ass impatiently. “Get moving!” I was just angry enough at this cruel treatment to scramble up on the platform and bring myself upright – hoping all the while that I wasn’t too close to the edge.
“Arms up,” Gus ordered. “Spread your feet.” I followed his order only to have him snap off a terse, “Wider,” as he tapped the insides of my thighs with some sort of implement. My wrists were bound above me as they’d been that day in the den. With my legs spread so widely, I could barely move.
Suddenly, spotlights blazed against my skin, three, maybe or five of them, it was difficult to tell. The heat felt like scorching flames, and within seconds, I was sweating profusely. The leather dress was tight and sticky, and the cum drying between my breasts itched with an intolerable irritation that wouldn’t be soothed.
“She’s yours to use,” Gus announced, his voice cruel and meant to cut. “Whoever wishes to begin the torture start bidding.”
“Seventy-five.”
“One-hundred.”
“Two-hundred.”
Numbers barked from all corners of the room in rapid succession.
“Let’s see her body,” one bellowed.
