I had just come out of the gym where I had been battling with myself like I always do, bringing myself to my own limits. I don’t like contests against others; when I do a contest, it is always against myself and my own demons, nobody else.

I was wearing a pair of my old jeans and an old grey sweater with a hoodie that had belonged to my brother. I had braided my hair and wasn’t looking or feeling attractive or interesting, but rather like the typical anonymous grey mouse; the girl nobody sees or remembers. I was only going to bike home, shower, and relax; stare into a TV screen and go to bed. Alone. And then start a new day that would go by without any change, filled with the same rage and slight despair than any other day.

I was holding my apple between my teeth while unlocking my bike when I head steps behind me and then a voice.

“I’m sorry, but could you help me find this address?” I turned around and faced a tall, dark man who smiled at me, a paper with an address in his hand. I smiled back. I should have dressed better, I thought then.

“Maybe, I know the area quite well,” I said. 

“I’m looking – I mean, my friends and I are looking for this place...” and he looked down at his paper and gave me the name of one of the cultural centres of the city.

“I know where it is. It’s not easy to find, but it’s a nice place and you get great food there. I don’t know why they try to hide it.” He smiled at me again. Definitely handsome. Not exactly my type, but nice to look at nevertheless. He reminded me vaguely of someone, but I couldn’t remember who it was.

I tried to explain to him how to get there, but he looked lost. Then he asked, “Would you mind coming along just a second and explain this to my friend? He’s been here before and will be able to follow your instructions. I think I will only get us more and more lost.” 

I didn’t see why I wouldn’t, so I said “sure” and followed him over to a mini-van parked on the side of the road. The rear doors were open, and two other guys were sitting there, each with a cup in their hands. A third one was leaning out of the drivers’ window, smoking and seemingly enjoying the sunshine. It didn’t look dangerous. At this point, I was seriously wishing I had showered, dressed differently and put on some make-up. Stupid me. Lucky me. Whatever.

“I got help, AND she knows where we want to go,” the dark guy said. Everybody smiled at me, and one of them handed me a plastic cup with beer, like they were holding themselves. I threw the rest of my apple into the shrubbery nearby and took it. It was nice, fresh and bitter, and I was still hot and exhausted after my workout. I fairly gulped it down. 

After some chit-chat, I explained where the centre they were looking for was and how to get there. They wanted to know where I was from, and then explained to me that they were from Southern England, had come for a conference and wanted to visit the area a little before heading back home. One of them looked at their watch and said they should be going.

Dark Guy looked at me and asked if I cared to join them. I said thank you, but that I had to work early the next day. They shrugged. I thought to myself that, they weren’t too keen after all on having me with them anyway. People don’t like mice. Nobody likes mice.

I took a step towards them and wanted to put my empty cup into the bag that one of them was holding up towards me. And then it happened. It went so fast I hardly realized anything until it was done and I was inside the van, struggling, screaming and trying to fight them off me. The van was moving by then, the doors closed and I hadn’t the slightest chance against three of them. They pulled me down on a mattress and bound my hands and feet. Their hands were firm, holding me in place, blocking me on my belly while others were tying knots, blindfolding and gagging me. I fought nevertheless, trying to kick. I felt panicked, but somehow knew there wasn’t any danger. Again, it reminded me of something, something known, familiar.

A hand grabbed me by my hair, pulling it down, holding me head in place. “If you stop fighting, I’ll talk to you,” a voice said. I couldn’t move anymore, but I still pressed and pushed against their hands. He pulled my hair harder.

“Stop it,” he repeated, closer to my ear this time. His voice, the order and the intensity of it made me obey.

“Good girl,” I heard then. It was Dark Guy who was speaking, I recognized his voice.

“Ok, sweetheart, listen. This is a gift from Tom. You remember Tom, don’t you. He says, 'Hi'. You’ll see him there again. I’m going to undo your gag for a second. Your safe word is 'Robin Hood'. If you say it now, we’ll stop the car and let you go. Anything else you say is not going to work. Remember Tom; and what he has taught you.”

I had stopped fighting completely and just lay there, trying to sort out my thoughts. Tom. Tom. Tom… his name was spinning in my head, round and round. Our meeting at a concert. Our silly jokes about Robin Hood. And then the sex with him. The spanking, and how he had surprised me when he had started to tie me down on the bed. The intensity of what I felt. I could hear myself scream with an orgasm too powerful to be contained. And then he had vanished into thin air. And I had missed him so much, so much it hurt. And now this? What was I expected to do? I still felt upset and not ready to give in at all, in spite of Tom’s name and the possible promise that seemed to come with it.

“I’m going to remove your gag. Say the word, and we’ll untie you and take you back right where we’ve taken you, ok?”

I could feel him undo the knot in my neck. I still didn’t know what I should do. Use the word? I knew safe words from my time with Tom. They were sacred, not to be disrespected under any circumstances. Use it and leave? Go home and continue to look at the void within myself? I felt angry.

The tissue was taken out of my mouth. “You fucking assholes, let me go and fuck off!” I screamed. It was spontaneous. I hadn’t decided.

“Use the word!” another voice said.

I shut up. I didn’t want to use it. I really didn’t want to. Uncomfortable, comfortable, known bounds around my wrists and ankles, it made me feel good. It made me feel safe. I didn’t want it to stop. I didn't want to stop fighting, but it didn't want it to stop. It had been so long since I had been led into safe submission. 
The gag was put back over my mouth. I kicked my feet in response. I received a hard slap on my bottom.

"That’s exactly what Tom said you’d do. Don’t worry, we can take it. By the way, I’m David, and there are also Josh and Andrew. Nick is driving. I wonder though how much you can take. We’re quite prepared to take you on, are you prepared to give in to us?” I raised my head as much as I could and hit his hand with it. Better than nothing, even if it only made him laugh.

“Tom said you were an angry fighter, now I know what he means. Listen, this is important. You can use your safe word any time. If you’re gagged, you can go like this ‘hmm, hmm, hmm’ three times; and we’ll listen to what you need. It's ok to use this if it gets too much or need anything, like going to the bathroom. You can also tap your feet to the ground twice and we'll listen and take care of you. I need you to nod to be sure you got that even though you're still angry.”

I nodded. There was no point in messing up this part.

And then I just lay there. Tied up, with very little space to move. Hands caressing my body, skin, hair, feeling up my tits or my ass. I wasn’t scared, but felt very nervous. Where were we going, what was next?

After a long ride, the car stopped. There was nothing I could do. I heard the doors open, heard them say, “Well, we made it alright!” and then their hands sitting me up and undoing the ropes that held my legs.

“If you try anything silly, we’ll tie them again and simply carry you, understand?” said one of them. I nodded. I felt exhausted and sore, and I knew it wouldn’t help.

“Good girl,” I heard again. I hated being called a good girl. I didn’t know back then how often I was going to hear it. And how I would learn to rejoice when I would hear it.

I was made to walk between them and guided. Then, we seemed to have arrived where they wanted to go.

“I’m going to take off your blindfold. The light will hurt you at first. We’re in a bathroom, we’re going to untie you and you can take a shower and we will get you ready. No funny stuff. There are two of us, and only you; the door is looked and you don’t know where the key is. Better play along. If you don’t, you’ll pay for it.” And with this, they pulled off the blindfold and the gag for which I was extremely grateful.

It was as they had said. Bathroom, a big shower, chairs, a massage table… the whole room was huge. Dark Guy wasn’t there; these were two of the other ones. One of them was busy undoing the ropes that held my hands.

“There you are,” he finally said. “I love your wrists, they are so delicate. I’ll have the greatest time tying you down, doing full bondage, making you fly…”

He stepped closer to face me. He still held my hand, looking at my wrist. He was a dark blond guy with a strong build. I saw a long red mark on my wrist. His finger drew along it.

“If you learn not to struggle, there’ll be fewer marks. Accepting your bonds is part of this.”

I really didn’t understand what he was talking about. I pulled my wrist out of his hand, feeling anger, shame and fear at the same time. I didn’t know where to look. He seemed to guess.

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn.”

“I don’t want to learn anything!” I almost yelled at him.

“Then you’ll learn in spite of yourself. Now, here are the rules for right now. You better obey, or there will be consequences. No questions. You will be able to ask questions afterwards, not now. When we ask you something, you answer. Straight and to the point. No smart-assing, you get me? You have the choice every time. Either you do what we tell you to, or we’ll make you do it. Have I made myself clear?”

I looked at him. I felt so angry again. Who did they think they were? And what the fuck was I doing here? I wasn’t able to resist the way he stared into me, my eyes. I lowered them. The other guy was standing behind me. He hadn’t said a word so far, but all of a sudden, he grabbed my braid and pulled my head towards him.

“I haven’t heard your answer. Yes or no?”

I struggled.

“It’s easy. We ask, you answer. Understand? It’s a Yes or No question.”

“Ok!” I finally let out, his hand hurt me. He let go of my hair.

“That’s good enough for now. You’ll better learn soon.”

I was angry and felt humiliated. They were so close to me. I tried to back away, but couldn’t. My mind was racing. Say the word and leave?

“Alright, sweetheart. Undress.”

I looked at the guy behind me who had given the order. Brown hair. Tall like the other one. Freckles. I like freckles. I don’t know why my mind would fix this kind of detail all of a sudden, but it did. He had freckles. Not too many of them, just a few, sprinkled over his face and cheeks. Green eyes.

“You hear me. Get undressed. Or we will do it for you.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want them to undress me. And that's what would happen if I refused.

“Can I get some space?” I said, while pulling my sweatshirt over my head. My brother’s sweatshirt. Too big, too long. I felt comfortable when I wore it. I could hide inside it. Nobody noticed me in it. It almost hurt to take it off. I was wearing a t-shirt beneath it, an old green shirt. Both of them smiled, seemingly pleased.

"Good girl. Remember, no questions, no requests. But you do get some space. Go ahead.” With this, they both pulled the chairs next to the wall closer and sat down, watching me closely.

I pulled the shirt over my head. My black and sweaty sports-bra. I felt ashamed, hot, and uncomfortable. Their eyes were on me. Shame was washing over me. I had never liked my body.

“Take off your bra,” Brown guy said. I did and then instinctively crossed my arms over my breasts.

“Don’t hide. No more hiding. Let us see your tits. Now.”

I hesitated. I felt so vulnerable I could have cried.

“Do it. Now. Or I’ll help you do it.” I lowered my arms. Slowly, feeling helpless. I stared at the floor.

“Good girl. Nice tits you got. You should be proud of them, not hide. Undo your hair.”

I undid my braid. My hair must have looked a mess. And then I pulled down my jeans, pushing my legs together as soon as that was done.

“Take that pantie off,” Blondie said.

And I did. And then I was standing there naked in front of them. Shame and fear were washing over me. But also something else.

They both got up and closer to me. I was cornered again between them. Naked, naked, naked… my mind was racing. Blondie was behind me, examining the tattoo on my shoulder blade, brushing my hair aside to see it clearly.

“I like it,” he said. “We’ll need to decide later on where we’re going to put your new one.”

“I don’t want another one!”

“You’ll find out. Maybe you’ll end up wanting it. Our sign on you. To show that you’re ours.”

“I’m not yours!” I yelled.

Freckles slapped my face. It hurt. It made me even angrier. He stared down into my eyes.

“You are allowed to shut up. You’re allowed to disagree politely until you know better. You are allowed to use your password, either to get out or to get a break. You’re not allowed to show any lack of respect to any of us, have I made myself clear?” His voice was calm, but his eyes scared me. My cheek was on fire. I looked down.

“Alright,” the other one said. “You’re very pretty, we’re going have fun. Your tits are nice and full, your skin is too dry and we might get you a better haircut, but your hair is nice. I like the tattoo as well. Now let me see your pussy – “ and with this, his hand went down to my pussy which I had tried to wriggle away from them, out of touch, out of reach. They wouldn’t let me get away with it.

“Nice and smooth!” he stated. “Did you just shave or is this permanent job?”

As I didn’t answer, he slapped my ass.

“Laser removal. Permanent,” I said.

“When and why did you get it done?”

“For a boyfriend. Avoid the shaving. Two years ago.”

His hand was still down there and was now moving lower, on the inside. Both my cheeks were burning, and not because of the slap.

“Somebody is very wet here,” he stated. His fingers went on and on, pushing into the inside, adding to the mixture of fear, shame, confusion and the excitement I was feeling. I hated being there. And yet… as he went on fingerfucking me slowly, I knew I also loved it. 
 
He removed his fingers from my pussy and stuffed them into my mouth. I hated my own juices and had always done so. I shook my head and tried to get him to release me. He wouldn’t have it. Blocking my head against his shoulders, he forced his fingers into my mouth. Freckles stopped me from using my hands to push him away.

“Part of the deal,” he said as he pushed my hands down. I felt tears shooting into my eyes. Not me, not myself, don’t make me do this. I can sleep with almost any guy. I can’t have myself. I can’t stand myself.
They released me. I knew I hadn’t won, that I wouldn’t get away.

“You may go take your shower. Wash your hair. You’ll find everything in there”; and he nodded towards the shower.

Freckles held on to my hands just a second longer. As he let them go, he said, “You’re incredible beautiful. There is no reason to hate yourself so much.”

The fact that he seemed to understand so well what was going on the inside of me made me even angrier.

I stepped into the shower. There were shower gel, shampoo, hair conditioner; all of an expensive brand. The whole place smelled of money. I was used to the smell of it, but not to having any. Where the hell was I? What would happen next? I would hang in there and not give in. This was like a competition. I had always liked sex, but it had often disappointed me. A part from the time with Tom. I had ended up comparing it to sports. Enduring, hanging in, pushing further. And then winning. As long as I could keep the right distance and master my mind, I would be able to do it, whatever 'it' turned out to be. And then go back home, put my sweater on, hide under a blanket; and forget. As usual. But this was not as usual. Where was I? What the fuck was this about? Why did it turn me on so much?

The warm water helped me release some of my tension. I felt sore and tired. I washed my body, my hair. Was I being prepared – but for what? Why me? Why go through all the hassle? I couldn’t make head and tail of this. There were enough pretty, willing and sexy women on the market. They didn’t need me. And Tom? What was his part in this? Would I see him again? And when?

I stepped out of the shower. Freckles stood and wrapped me into a towel, then did the same with my hair. It felt good to be covered. The towels were soft and warm. They had me sit in a chair. I pulled my legs up and hugged them, leaning my head on my knees. There was a silence, a break that was more than welcome. Then Freckles started to dry my hair with the towel and brush it. He got a hairdryer from a drawer. He seemed to be used to taking care of hair. His touch was soft; there was nothing that reminded me of the slap he had given me. All was soft and warm.

When he was done, Blondie had me stand up and take the towel off. I was naked before them, again, and all the warmth left me. I wanted to hide. He got a tube of lotion and started to put it on my skin, from my back down to my feet. It was a real treat, almost like a massage. The lotion was nice and rich, and I could feel how it penetrated into my skin, how it left it softer. But there were also his hands, visiting, exploring. It was like a massage, but it didn't make me feel relaxed. I didn't fight him, only backed away a couple of times, mainly checking his reaction. 
 
When he was done, he handed me a bundle of clothes.

“I guess you’ll prefer getting dressed yourself,” he stated. I did. I undid the bundle. There was a black dress, shoes, a black lace bra. No panties.

“I don’t get panties?” I asked, in the slightest hope they had been forgotten or fallen out of the bundle.

“No panties,” he answered. “Full access at all times.”

I got dressed.

Everything was my size; this had been planned in detail. The thought was scary. I hadn’t seen anything coming. Being dressed was good, but having no panties, being on “full access” as he called it, felt dangerous.

Freckles brushed through my hair again. Then they made me look at myself in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. My dark hair fell in long and soft curls over my back; the black dress was well cut and suited me, revealing the fullness of my breasts and my small midriff. It was short, and the black, stiletto heels went well with it. I looked – different. Sexy. Classy. 

Freckles powdered my face and then put some make-up on my eyes and lips, all very quickly and without hesitation. I looked at myself again. My eyes were now beautifully made-up and shone large and dark. My skin looked healthy and shiny. My mouth spelled sex through its lipstick. I had never yet seen myself like this. A good-looking, sexy woman, there was nothing grey about her. I looked on the floor, where I saw my grey sweatshirt in a corner. I wanted it so badly. Didn’t want it. Wanted it.

“You should say thank you to Andrew,” said Blondie. “You look amazing.”

His words almost made me burst on the inside. I was impressed by how I looked and felt very emotional all of a sudden. But I wasn’t going to say thank you to somebody who had “taken” me, as they called it and who had slapped and humiliated me.

“It’s easy enough,” said Blondie. “And it’s an order. You’re expected to say, ‘Thank you, Master Andrew.’"I looked at him. I wasn’t going to do it. Even less now that he had added the ‘Master’. I wasn’t going to call anybody Master. Or so I thought.

“You will learn to keep your eyes down and look at us only when we require you to. But that’s not the point right now. This is your second warning. You know what I have requested.”

I felt as if I had gone back to my schooldays and was being scolded by my teacher. But I wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore. I looked down, since that was what he wanted. And I gritted my teeth.
 
“Alright then. This is the third time. If you don’t obey right now, it’s too late.”

I looked at him. He was grinning. For a second, he looked like a young boy, but then the impression vanished and I saw the man come out again. Dominating, passionate and direct. I felt scared. Maybe I should have simply said it.
 
They told me to turn around. I didn’t move. They made me move. I was at a point where I wouldn’t obey at all anymore. I had seen a woman I hadn’t known until now in the mirror. Not a grey mouse. They had stopped me from hiding. But out in the open, fully vulnerable and accessible, I wasn’t going to give in without a fight. I made that promise to myself as I felt them pulling my arms on my back and tying a rope around them, several knots one by one down to my wrists which were firmly held in place this way. I had struggled, it hadn’t helped. I couldn’t move now. The rope wasn’t painful, being tied up like this reminded me of when I had had a cast. I couldn’t move, it held me, but it didn’t bite into the skin, only held the member safely in place. Safe. My mind was battling my emotions. I felt safe. Angry, nervous, unsure of myself, but safe. Safe and comfortable with these bonds over my hands.

They pulled a black hood over my head. Then I heard a door getting unlocked and I was walked out of the bathroom. It didn’t take long until they made me stop and I heard a knock and a door being opened.
 
“Kneel here,” I was instructed. As I didn’t obey, I was pulled down. And the hood was taken off. I was kneeling in the middle of a living room. Around me in a circle were armchairs and the four guys looking at me. It made me feel nervous and ill at ease.

Dark guy was there. David. He who had come to “pick me up”.

“Stand,” he said. “I want to have a better look at you. You look beautiful.”

I looked up at him. His eyes bore into mine. I almost lowered them, but I didn’t want to give up without a fight. Fighting was my second nature.

“I am repeating an order. I won’t do this often. Stand. Now.”

I still held his gaze, but felt flushed and more and more nervous.

“How has she been doing while with you?” he now asked, looking at Andrew and Blondie.

“She obeys only when she sees no other option,” Andrew replied. “We gave her the option of getting undressed herself or doing it ourselves if she didn’t, and that worked. Nothing else made her obey. Only when threatened and slapped. She isn’t collaborating at all so far. And she has offended me by not accepting an order from Josh. He had asked her thrice to thank me for making her beautiful, she refused. I hereby request compensation.”

“And you shall have it,” answered David. I was stunned. What kind of strange game were they playing? What kind of language were they using? Who did they think they were?

“She’ll learn,” he added. “We’ll teach her. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

“Yes, she has shown clear refusal to enjoy her own juice and quite some rejection towards her own body. She relaxes when she’s covered, is uncomfortable when naked. She was clearly surprised when she saw herself made-up in the mirror. Like she’d never seen herself. Her body is also slightly neglected. I don’t think she took care of herself too well.”

David looked at me again.

“Stand! This is third and last time I’m giving you the order.”

I tried to get up. Anything was better than having to listen to them talking about me and analysing my behaviour. Without the help of my hands, it was difficult though, and I almost lost my balance. Somebody grabbed me from behind and helped me get to my feet.

“Good girl,” David said. “Nevertheless, it took you too long. You must learn to obey immediately. Turn now. I want to see you. We want to see you.”

I had lowered my eyes. My cheeks were glowing. And I turned around myself. Yes, there were all four of them, drinks in their hands. I saw a table set for a meal in another part of the room. There was a small table next to David’s chair with different things. A whip. Rope. A dildo. Clamps. A small bottle. Different other things. I shivered upon looking at this table.

“What kind of compensation were you thinking of, Andrew?” David asked. His question made me shiver again.

“I want to spank her. I want to make her experience punishment and its pleasure. Teach her. It might be useful for afterwards anyway, she better learn at least some obedience soon.”

"That sounds like a reasonable request. Sweetheart, tell me – have you been spanked before?”

I looked at him. Spanked? Something was stirring on the inside of me.

“Yes, once."

”Was that with Tom?”

“Yes.”

“And did you enjoy it?”

“No!”

He seemed amused by my answer.

“Are you quite sure of that?”

I looked down to the floor.

“Well, I think your Master Andrew’s request should be granted. You have much to learn.”

I looked at my feet. He wasn’t my ‘Master Andrew’; nobody was going to be my master. There was a short silence. It made me more and more tense.

“Ok, then let’s go. We’ll take more time to talk during supper. Right now, you are hereby under his control, and you will obey his every word, or we will help you do it. Until you are told otherwise, you’re following his orders and not anybody else’s.” 
 
“Come on here, over to me,” I heard Andrew say. I didn’t move, still staring at the floor.

Josh got up and grabbed my hair, pulling me down on my knees.

“Your master told you to come over to him, and that’s where you’re going. Come on, little one. Crawl.”
I was surprised by the roughness and the directiveness of his moves. By this, and by the humiliation I felt when I was forced to crawl to Andrew and made to lie over his knees.

He placed me like it pleased him and then invited the other “Gentlemen” to turn their chairs in order to enjoy a better view. I tried to wriggle away, but to no avail. One of his arms held me firmly in place, and he used his other hand to lift the skirt of my dress over my bottom, exposing my bare ass completely.

“Sweetheart, you have to relax. Let go. You’re not going anywhere. I want you to concentrate and feel what I’m doing. Pain is your friend. It will help you, guide you, show you something you’ve never known so far. Concentrate on the sensation, not on what you think you have to do in order to be respectable. Forget about these things. Lean into the sensations we’re offering you. Like the time you were with Tom.”

His hand was caressing over my butt. His touch was soft. He asked for the hood and the bottle with the oil. He pulled the black hood over my head again and pulled it closed under my chin. Blackness again. I had no eyes and no hands. I tried to listen to him and concentrate on what I was feeling.

He poured oil over my ass cheeks and then slowly massaged it in. His touch was soft. And intense.

“Your ass is beautiful. I can’t wait to stuff it, explore it, make you enjoy yourself. Do you like anal, little one?”

I didn’t answer.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to add extra slaps.”

I shook my head. I had hardly ever tested the brown hole, and when I had, I hadn’t enjoyed it.

“Another thing to teach you. This is going to be fun.”

The oil had pretty much penetrated into my skin and left it warm and sensitive. He rubbed his hand over one and the same spot several times, until I could feel it heating up and burn. Then he did the same thing on the other cheek.

I had tried to brace myself, but the first slap came as a surprise. He hit me several times, hard and fast. He stopped, then repeated it. This time, I had expected it and held my breath. It hurt, but wasn’t as bad as I had feared. I could take it, resist it. And it did remind me of Tom and his hands.

He continued slapping my bottom. Hard and fast, again and again. Then he stopped. I was glad to have to hood on. At least they couldn’t see my face and watch my reactions. I hadn't made a sound so far, fought the pain and glad to get a break.

He poured more oil over my skin, and again massaged and rubbed my bottom, but not long enough for the oil to penetrate. Then he started slapping my ass again, and this time, my skin was on fire, sending wave after wave over my hole body. He worked slower this time, more methodically, making sure he wouldn’t miss out any part of my skin. He seemed to aim carefully, making sure his hand would strike the same part several times before moving on. It hurt more and more, and it got harder and harder to control myself.
 
My mind began to react, shutting out the other senses, noises and sensation, focusing only on the next slap which I had started to fear. At the same time, something strange happened, something I hadn’t really known so far. My mind started to retract, as if I couldn’t hear my own thoughts anymore and I was left with sensations only. I felt my body fully, as if each cell had been awakened. I felt my breasts that were pressed against his knees, my hair, my own knees on which I was leaning. I felt his breath and his rhythm as he went on and on, slapping me, sending wave after wave over me. Just when I felt like I couldn’t take it any longer, he stopped. Had he felt it? 
 
I felt him move, but didn’t know what he was doing. Then I felt several hands going over my bottom, caressing, exploring, rubbing and pinching the irritated skin. My ass cheeks were spread and my brown hole poked and fingered. Fingers also went on into my pussy. I hadn’t realised it, but it was dripping wet and the touch made me burn even more on the inside. 

Their fingers were collecting wetness inside me and spread it over my ass cheeks. I knew why they were doing it, teasing me with it, but when I made the slightest attempt to wriggle, I received several very hard slaps in the same spot, causing me to wince and concentrate on keeping still. My skin had become too sensitive by now to stand it anymore.

I felt hands and fingers and the heat of their bodies all around me. And then, probably upon a sign I couldn’t see, slaps were falling down again. Hard and harder. In between, my skin was rubbed and pinched, and by then, I had definitely crossed a limit. My mind had become muddled and yet strangely clear, I was expecting, fearing and looking forward to each blow, felt it move from my ass to my brain and back down again all over my body. I felt nothing but those waves, now abandoning myself to them while still in fear and pain. I wasn’t fighting it, but reacting without thinking of what I was doing. Instead of being full of thoughts, I was filled with sensations. This was out of time and space. 

I hardly heard and even less realised when Andrew’s voice said, “Yeah, go ahead and fuck her. Not too hard though. Slow and deep. Be nice with our little slut, make her happy.”

At the clicking sound of a belt opening, I almost jumped. I received two more hard slaps and felt hands spreading my ass cheeks. Fingers were going into my pussy, collecting more of my juice, spreading it over my asshole, fingerfucking me and opening me before leaving the place for something else.
 
I felt his cock at my entrance, felt it pressing hard against my brown hole, my intimacy. My cheeks were burning and the fire spread onto my inside. He pushed his way slowly into me, little by little, deeper and deeper. Somebody pushed his fingers inside my pussy and slowly started to go in and out, in and out again. Yet another hand was finding my tits, squeezing and pinching the tips.

When the cock was buried deep on the inside of me, I felt hands grab my hips firmly and he started to fuck me for real. In and out, deeper and deeper, faster and faster. The fingers in my pussy followed the lead, and went in and out, harder and faster all the time. It became too much for me, my mind was swimming between pain, a feeling of fullness I had never experienced and something else building up on the inside of me. I winced and wriggled, fighting the rope that held my wrists and the hands that were everywhere; unable to do withhold, control and even think; keen and aware of each move.

All of a sudden, it stopped.

“You may now apologize for your disobedience and say thank you,” I heard Andrew say.

It broke out of me before I could even think. The cock was in my ass, and I wanted, needed it to go on.

“I am sorry, I’m so sorry. Thank you for making me beautiful. I’m sorry! Thank you…” I repeated several times, almost as if out of my mind.

“Good girl. You want Master David to go on and fuck your ass more?”

I was almost desperate.

“Yes, yes I do. Please!”

“What a good little slut you are all of a sudden. Ask him. Name him. Beg him!”

“Oh my god, please, Master David, fuck my ass, fuck me, don’t stop, this is so good, please please please…”

I was ashamed of myself but couldn’t have acted differently for the life of me.

He pulled out of me. And then in again, with one large and hard push, deep into my inside. He fucked me briefly and then I felt him cum, shooting his semen into my ass. He pulled out, somebody else took his place.

“Take her pussy now. I want her fully owned into every hole,” I heard Andrew say.

My position was slightly adjusted, the fingers that had been with me all along were pulled out and I felt another cock enter me and start to fuck my pussy. He went hard and fast, seemingly without care for me. I was aroused, confused and disconnected from my mind. Somebody brought his hand beneath me and started slapping my pussy. I winced. This hurt so much… but the burning sensation, the fullness, the emotions went up and down, up and down – and then I burst into an orgasm in a way I had never experienced, so sharp and almost brutal that it nearly cut off my breath. For the second time, I felt a cock filling up my hole with its load and then pull out. 

“Did you just cum? Or was that a mistake?”

The question brought me back to my senses. What was I supposed to do?

“Answer!”

I couldn’t answer.

I heard a swishing sound more than I felt it. A blow on my ass cheeks. Then another one, and another one, stinging, biting deep into the skin. This wasn't a hand, this was something else. I realised it was the whip that was used now. The pain had become unbearable within just a couple of blows.
 
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. Yes, I did! Please stop, please! I’m sorry…” I was crying by then. This was too much.

“You will learn to be obedient. And you will learn to answer when we ask you a question, and also ask us before cumming. This is a new rule, and you might by now have understood that you better learn fast.”

He pulled me down from his knees, but kept me on mine. I started to feel how much my knees and legs were tense and painful for having kneeled for so long. My body was trembling. I so wanted to sit and have my hands untied.

“Your ass and pussy have been filled up. It’s time to fill your mouth. Listen, little girl. You try once, and only one single little time to be a nasty brat and to use your teeth and you will feel punishment that you are not going to forget. Tom says you’re an amazing sucker. Show us.”

I nodded.

The hood was pulled off and I was blinded by the lights again. I was left no time to think or to get used to it. I was pulled up straight on my knees, somebody stood behind me and directed my head by pulling my hair. A fat cock touched my lips and then pushed into my mouth. It was almost too big for me, but I did my best to suck it in, to close my lips around it. I had no choice. He was hard already and it didn’t take long at all until he in turn grabbed my hair and pushed fast and hard into me, into my throat. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks and then he released his hot load into me. It was too much, I couldn’t swallow it all and felt his semen on my chin. When he was done, he told me to clean him. I did. Then I looked up. It was Josh. He patted my head.

“Good girl.”

And I was pleased to hear it.

My dress was pulled over my head and wrapped around my tied hands. They also took off my bra and did the same with it. I was still kneeling, not daring to do anything.

It was Andrew’s turn. He didn’t talk, just pushed his cock into my mouth, fucking my mouth hard and fast; I could hardly breathe. All of a sudden, he pulled out and the unloaded his semen unto me, my face, breasts and everywhere he could. He looked at me, satisfied.

Then he said, "You’re going to stay just like this until you’re dry. Then we’ll take off your bounds, and we’re going to get some food. You will remain naked. We will see how you are going to behave during the meal and then decide on how we’re going to proceed with you. The night is still long, and this was just a little introduction.”

I remained on my knees without moving. I felt their cum in and around my ass and my pussy, some of it running down my legs. I felt it still in my mouth, and had its taste, feel and smell everywhere. I felt it dry slowly on my breasts. My knees and arms hurt, my jaw hurt, but I felt strangely satisfied and hungry for more at the same time. The invisible grey mouse I used to be had disappeared. I existed. In the middle of pain and orders, I existed. And that felt good.

 To be continued...