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her cunt,” the woman’s clear voice made me wince. I saw her then, hovering on the sidelines, just inside my peripheral vision… the one intent on fucking me. She’d been in the crowd when I entered the room, beautifully dressed in a purple suit. Her skirt was gone and her jacket tossed aside, leaving her thin silk blouse waving like a sail. Her groin was very naked, her smooth hips the color of bread dough and her ass cheeks gleaming like pearls in the soft light. From the center of her groin, harnessed to black leather straps, hung a thick dildo. She held her rod much like a man holds his erection before it strikes. Dropping to the floor, she boldly moved forward on her knees until she was at my ass, grabbing onto each rear cheek in preparation for the assault.
The next few seconds went by so fast that I could hardly prepare myself. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. My nails clawed into my elbows. Then hot tears formed in my eyes as my body tensed like a bowstring. The tip of her weapon was poised to strike, batting at my anus, fat and firm. Any second, I expected her to lunge into me. I imagined her ruthlessly pounding me like a young male stud fucking. I could feel it, picture it, even smell the intensity in the charged air, as though we were two animals snorting and pawing the earth, making ready for the sexual battle.
To my surprise, and relief, the woman allayed my more frightening speculations by gently, with a firm steady push inserting the fake prick in the greased portal. I gasped and nearly fell out of position, but the sensations were miraculous, not painful at all. My mind went crazed. My nerves sizzled. I almost passed out.
The lady’s friends were there to aid her, two men lifting me at the torso and keeping me in position. I enjoyed their hands and the feeling of comfort they provided. But it was all too much, the physical strain on my body, the reckless sensations flooding my overtaxed system, and then the truly evil and relentless pounding. What had been a simple easy fucking at the start soon shifted. Her gentleness turned savage and I became no more than an orifice for her to use.
I was told much later that the lady loves to fuck female asses. The harness she wears has a strap that goes through her crotch, which massages her clit and makes her come. The more she rode my ass and the more she liked it, the more vigorously she went about her business. Hearing her guttural noises made me believe she was coming. For a time, we became like a horse and rider galloping toward a fixed destination. But my own enjoyment seemed to stop once the fuck became brutal. This was far too rigorous and fast for me to take pleasure in the act… at least that’s what I thought.
I realized some minutes later, however, that while my mind denied any satisfaction, my body understood what was happening; it even liked the savagery. After the lady pulled out of my ass, I felt fingers on my pussy, toying with me like they could get me off. I don’t think I resisted their efforts. I was too tired to. But I didn’t pay much attention to them either. Then, suddenly, without warning, I was wracked by spasms and my clit throbbed hard and painfully. A full-fledged come slipped right by my wasted brain, causing my entire body to climax. The moment came and went so fast, I was left dazed and unable to understand what actually happened.
The men holding me were suddenly gone and I collapsed to the carpet, where I lay panting and out of breath. My hands were still grasping my elbows behind my back, and in a few minutes’ time, I could feel a tremendous ache in my shoulders. I sensed bodies above and all around me, but no one paid attention to my misery. I remained there for a while, believing that someone would eventually tell me what to do. But when no one spoke, and with my shoulders screaming with pain, I finally, slowly, cautiously, pulled out of the uncomfortable position, and lay flat on the floor . Still, no one noticed me. Or if they did, they didn’t say anything.
I must have waited nearly twenty minutes before I felt someone prod me with a stick.
“Out of here, slut, you’re done for tonight.”
Out of here, where? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare. I quickly rose to my hands and knees and crawled out the door. The woman who’d greeted me on my arrival was waiting there with a collar and leash. As though she’d practiced the move on many sluts before me, she collared my neck with a metal choke chain and led me by the leash down the hall.
“Stay on your hands and knees, and back your way down the stairs,” she said when we came to an open doorway. I looked back seeing the blackness below appear as though it would swallow me whole. Though I had no desire to go into her basement, I wasn’t in any position to argue. Wasted, aching and ready to sleep, I could only hope I’d get a chance to rest and a chance to assess what my kinky sex life had led me to. If this was Preston’s idea of my surrender, I’d have to take another look at my choice.
Chapter Seven
For some hours, I lay in the dark, inside a cage made of wood and metal. There was hardly room for me to move, and no way I could stand. I have no idea how long I stayed there before I was released for other purposes. I suspected that it was morning when the woman came with a plate of food, but I really couldn’t tell.
I relished every bite of bread and cheese she gave me, and ate the apple, core and all. It hardly filled my stomach, but it was welcome relief from the sour ache I’d felt all night.
“Is Preston Lockhart here, perhaps?” I tentatively asked, just as the woman was about to take my plate away.
“I have no idea,” she answered. Obviously, she didn’t care and I decided that it was unwise to question her further. In her eyes, I was reduced to a status somewhere beneath the favorite house pet. A chore for her, one more burden she didn’t ask for.
I spent the next two days at the house being taught a variety of sluttish behaviors, which I suppose Preston wanted me familiar with. I learned to crawl in proper form, squat with some grace—apparently, my wobbly attempt the first night had been noted. I learned to walk with submissive poise and to spread my body wide, making it available for sexual use whether I was on my back, or standing, or on my knees. I was worked for several hours at a stretch, posed, stretched, pinched, clamped, spanked, whipped with floggers and even made to run around a small pen in the yard of house, chased with a buggy whip to correct every flaw in my form. I had no idea what ‘form’ I was supposed to strike. As many times as I adjusted my pace or stride or stance, it was never right, never perfect, never even pleasing to the men who worked me.
Each practice session inside or out was exhausting, and while the men changed places whenever they were tired, I was forced to continue the unrelenting practice until I could hardly move.
After nearly every session, I tried to pose one simple question about Preston’s whereabouts—speaking submissively but earnestly as I was returned to my cell. If I managed to get my question out, the men who trained me all acted as if they didn’t know who Preston Lockhart was. I doubted that was possible, but there was no way to extract information from these callous men.
I was never fucked for real. There were plenty of fake pricks driving into my pussy and ass; sometimes both holes were filled at once and worked hard and fast until I screamed. But I never had a real cock in my cunt; that seemed saved for someone special—for Preston I hoped. I rather liked that idea, once it became clear that the men were avoiding my body with their erections. I saw them fuck several other women—and envied those women the sexual pleasure. But it was Preston I wanted, not the nameless clones who tortured me, who left me tired, and after two days, hardly able to feel anything sexual at all.
Later on Saturday night—I’m just guessing the time of day, since it had been some time since I’d seen daylight—I unexpectedly revolted. Almost without warning, a wave of angry feelings came over me and I exploded my pent-up rage and fear, feeling justly pissed that I’d been held this way. Pissed that Preston hadn’t shown his face, I rebelled.
I came to my feet after a succession of rods and canes and whips were laid on my ass. I’d been tied over a spanking rail, had been screaming for them to stop, and finally when the ropes were loosened, I bolted to my feet and turned to the two men. One was Ryder; he’d been abusing me all weekend, reveling in his attitude of superiority. I loathed him. At that moment, I loathed any man I saw, and most especially Preston Lockhart, who was still not present.
“Get me my clothes and get me out of here!” I stared Mr. Pretty-boy down and growled my orders.
“What was that?” he asked, mocking me still.
“I’m not playing your game anymore, and you can tell Preston to go to hell.”
He answered first with amusement, then his face turned solemnly grim. “You think this is a game?” He reached out and pulled me into him, pinching my nipple and drawing me forward.
I tried to jerk away, but from behind me, the second man had my hair in his hand.
“You’ve been misinformed if you think you have the right to leave of your free will. You’re property. A slut. A slave. A cunt, a pussy, a rectum, a mouth, an ass and thighs, a pair of breasts. That’s it. That’s all you are in this house, all you are to anyone who comes to play here. You’re a toy. Your job’s to entertain. You have a problem with that, too bad.” His lip curled into a snicker. The fingers that had been clamped to my nipple went for my pussy. “You know, I honestly can’t understand why you’re having such a problem with this.” His thumb grazed my clit repeatedly, while another finger found my “G” spot inside my vagina. “You’re drenched, slut.” He rubbed me a little harder, and my entire body twitched, threatening to explode. I couldn’t stand firm; I was too weak. The man behind me began to massage my sore ass, reminding me that the flesh was warm, and the sensation was biting and orgasmic. Ryder rubbed more vigorously and promptly had me at the precipice of coming. Knowing I was about to explode, he abruptly withdrew his hand. “See what I mean?” his voice was thick with sarcasm. “Just a cunt and pair of breasts and a tight round ass.”
The two men pushed me to the ground, although they hardly had to lay a hand on me. My body wilted on its own.
“You have any objection to your treatment or your
