“You know, Ms Perkins, I feel sure these negotiations could be brought to a swift and successful conclusion with the addition of a little sweetener.”

Patricia kept a stony face. “A sweetener?” she said.

The man on the other side of the table grinned wolfishly. His name was Vasily, and he spoke flawless English, if with an accent. “Yes,” he said, “a sweetener.”

Patricia tried to keep perfectly still. She knew very well that if she leaned back her blouse would accentuate the curve of her breasts, and that if she leaned forwards, she risked displaying a small portion of cleavage. Either way Vasily would stare straight at her tits as openly and unashamedly as any man could.

Her boss’s instructions rang in her ears. She was to make this deal happen “by any means necessary”. It was the first time she’d been entrusted with negotiations of this magnitude, and she knew that she never would be again if she let things slip now.

Still, this was delicate stuff. She made a conscious effort not to reveal anything of her state of mind. “Suppose, hypothetically speaking, a sweetener were possible. What would you have in mind?”

The grin remained, but Vasily’s eyes had steel in them. “Hypothetically speaking?”

“Yes, hypothetically speaking.”

The man made is if to lean back, but then he suddenly folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, staring due south of her face. “Let’s just say, Ms Perkins, that you are, hypothetically, a very attractive woman.”

It was impossible for Patricia not to start. Vasily was a bastard, no doubt about it. There was nothing there to misconstrue. Her boss’s words were still ringing in her head. “Make the deal happen. By any means necessary.” Did that include what Vasily was obviously implying?

Surely it didn’t? It couldn’t, could it? Not that she was averse to a bit of fun when the opportunity presented itself, but mixing business with pleasure was something she had always been careful to avoid. On the other hand, there wasn’t much she shirked from in the interests of getting ahead. Whatever gave her an edge was her guiding star. But this? This was something different.

Vasily was staring her out, waiting for her reaction. “Hypothetically attractive?” she said, throwing the ball back into his court, and trying desperately to remain calm on the surface.

The man leaned back. “May I speak freely, Ms Perkins.”

“By all means.”

“Your attractiveness would be less hypothetical if you weren’t wearing trousers. Trousers are not becoming in a woman.”

Patricia’s anger flared, but she fought it back. Why would those words not go away? “By any means necessary.” There must be some other way. “What kind of woman do you think I am?”

Vasily grinned, throwing his arms wide and shrugging. “I know you were once an exotic dancer.” The way he said ‘exotic dancer’ suggested that he believed it was just a code word for ‘whore’.

“You’ve checked up on my background.”

“Of course.”

But how the fuck had he found out about that? It was how she’d augmented her income in her student days, but she’d always stopped short of going further. Anyway, it was fuck all to do with anything; she wasn’t about to start justifying herself to this man.

“Put it like this,” Vasily said. “A spoonful of sugar could work wonders for the deal.”

This wasn’t the time to get bogged down in hypotheticals. “And you expect me to be the sweetener,” Patricia said, trying to sound as if there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

“Expect, expect,” Vasily said, looking very relaxed. “I expect nothing. I am simply presenting a hypothetical suggestion.”

The bastard, Patricia thought. She got the uncomfortable feeling Vasily could see right through her. And her one big weakness had always been her attraction to complete bastards. She hated the way Vasily had looked at her throughout the course of the negotiations, as if he was superior to her in every way. At the same time, outside of the negotiating room, he’d very definitely be her type. Not the kind of type she wanted any kind of long or even medium term relationship with. But definitely the type she would love to meet in a bar. The trouble was, they weren’t in a bar.

 “Hypothetically speaking,” she said. “Exactly how much easier would a spoonful of sugar make the process?”

Vasily licked his lips, very visibly and very obviously. “It would make it considerably easier. Almost a done deal.”

“Make the deal happen. By any means necessary.”

 “And hypothetically speaking,” Patricia said. “Exactly what would that entail?” She couldn’t believe she was actually asking that.

Vasily leaned forward, smiling the way a man does who knows he’s about to get what he wants. “I do so wish you were less hypothetically attractive, Ms Perkins.”

“Meaning?”

But even as she said the word, Patricia knew only too well what Vasily meant. She could hear her heart thudding in her chest as Vasily flashed her his most wolfish grin yet. “Meaning that your attractiveness would move from the hypothetical to the real if you dispensed with the trousers, Ms Perkins.”

Patricia tried very hard not to let her feelings show. “If, hypothetically, there were a sweetener, it must never ever come out.”

Vasily’s eyes bored into hers. “Of course not,” he said. “I have a reputation to uphold, Ms Perkins. It would be very bad if I came to be associated with such things.”

You arsehole, Patrica thought. But things were beginning to feel inevitable. She had a long history of being attracted to complete arseholes. She tried to remind herself never to mix business with pleasure – if indeed Vasily would prove to provide pleasure – but in her head, her boss was shouting her down.

“Make the deal happen. By any means necessary.”

As her eyes turned to the door, she saw Vasily give a little smile. He was reading her like a book. It was Friday evening; the office was most likely deserted, and even if there were anyone still here, the little red lamp by the door would instruct anyone passing in the corridor that whoever was in the conference room was not to be disturbed.

Then Vasily was on his feet. He was moving round the table. He was behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Well, Ms Perkins,” he said. “Do we have a deal, or do we have to pretend a little longer?”

His hands were like inevitability weighing down on her. Her boss’s voice was echoing in her head

“By any means necessary.”

“We have a deal,” she said, hardly able to believe she was saying it.

“Good,” Vasily said. She didn’t have to see him to know that he was giving that wicked, rapacious grin of his.

His hands slid downwards from her shoulders. She fully expected him to grope her breasts, and felt a shudder of shame as her nipples reacted in anticipation. But Vasily chose to slowly undo the buttons in her blouse.

The fact that he didn’t touch her breasts, made Patricia all the more keen to feel his hands there. Now that she had taken the plunge, there didn’t seem to be any point in standing on virtue. All the same, she didn’t want to appear easy, and forced herself into immobility as Vasily finished unbuttoning her blouse, only leaning forward when he was done so that he could slide the garment off her shoulders.

“Now, Ms Perkins,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “If you would kindly remove your trousers.”

Patricia refused to look at him as she rose and removed first shoes and socks, then trousers. Now she was clad only in matching white lace bra and knickers. She tried telling herself that she was a businesswoman, getting the deal done “by any means necessary.” But stripped down to her underwear, she might just as well be the exotic dancer she had once been, and that Vasily knew she had been.

She stood there, now finally looking at Vasily, looking away again when he said, “That’s a great improvement, Ms Perkins.” Fucking arsehole! The trouble was, his smug air of superiority was almost designed to appeal to her sexual nature. Vasily was staring straight at her breasts, and she was only too well aware of the very visible outline of nipple.

“If you would please bend over the table,” Vasily said.

Arsehole! But she liked a man who knew what he wanted, and that way at least she didn’t have to look at him.

As soon as she was in position, he was behind her, his hands groping her through her knickers. “Nice arse,” he said. “Very nice. You really need to show it off more, Ms Perkins.”

Like hell she did! But she had no time to consider such things. Vasily was grabbing her knickers and pulling them down. Not far, since her legs were planted far enough apart for that not to be possible. But he got them far enough down to give her arse a hard slap. “Very spankable arse,” Vasily decided.

Shit, Patricia thought, feeling a little ripple of excitement run through her. Did he have her all worked out? Did she exude some kind of air that told him that she liked it hard and rough? She felt a new slap, Vasily remaining silent this time as he rubbed his hands over her buttocks before giving a good hard squeeze. He was a bastard alright, but Patricia loved a bastard who was prepared to take what he wanted.

The next slap was harder, and caused her to groan, though she didn’t want to do anything to show Vasily that his treatment was having an effect. Shit. All it would take now was for him to pull her hair and she wouldn’t be able to control herself.

Vasily gave a little chuckle. “Why Ms Perkins, anyone would think you were enjoying this. Maybe the old days are coming back to you.”

He was making assumptions. Her head hated him, but her body couldn’t resist. Suddenly Vasily’s hand shot down between her thighs and his fingers began fiddling with her labia. “Nice and plump,” the man observed. Then his fingers were inside the folds, deftly finding the way into her, but not too far, just teasing her entrance really.

“Why, Ms Perkins,” Vasily said. “I do believe you are enjoying this.”

She wasn’t going to respond to that verbally, not with the state of her pussy speaking volumes. She felt Vasily’s fingers leave her, only for one to start teasing her anus. “I’m not going to ask if you like it up the arse, Ms Perkins,” Vasily said. “I’m sure you’re up for almost anything. Am I right, Ms Perkins?”

Patricia wasn’t going to respond to that either. “Let’s get this over and done with, shall we?”

Vasily gave another of his wicked chuckles. “Eager,” he said. “I like that.”

He really was a fucking bastard of an arsehole, but try as she might, Patricia couldn’t help but find it a turn-on. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said.

Vasily didn’t respond to this, other than to take his hands from her. Shortly she heard the sound of a zip being pulled down. She trembled slightly, just waiting. Then Vasily grabbed her knickers, trying to wrench them further down. She heard a tear.

“Those were expensive,” she told him.

“Don’t worry,” Vasily replied. “Once this deal goes through, you’ll be able to afford as many pairs of fancy knickers as you like.” Then he ripped the garment clean off her.

Yes, that was it, Patricia thought. That was why she was doing this. The deal must be done, by any means necessary. She may not like the thought of mixing business with sex, but she couldn’t deny the tingle that refused to go away. Vasily slapped her arse again, before pushing his cock up against her labia. This time he leaned forward a little and grabbed hold of Patricia’s pony tail. When he tugged on it, she let out a moan that could only be construed one way.

Vasily gave another demonic chuckle. “Once a whore, always a whore, I suppose,” he said.

Fucking evil bastard. “Just fuck me and get it over with,” Patricia said.

The man tugged harder on her pony tail, and his cock pushed inwards. “Pretend you’re a reluctant victim all you like,” Vasily said. “But we both know you’re a willing whore.” There was a shove, a hard shove, the man’s cock suddenly pushing up inside her. He gave one hard thrust after another, and Patricia let out a groan with each of them.

Under ordinary circumstances, Patricia would respond volubly, but she didn’t want to give Vasily the satisfaction of seeing her lose her inhibitions. She tried desperately to restrain herself, though having his hard cock rammed into her made her want to cry out to him to do exactly what he was in any case doing. Vasily was exactly as forceful as she liked a man to be. He held her hard, fingers and fingernails digging into her flesh, using his hard cock to show her exactly who was boss.

Exact that this was all wrong. They were supposed to be equals negotiating a deal. Vasily had called her a whore, and here she was, basically prostituting herself for the sake of that deal. “Make the deal happen. By any means necessary,” her boss had said. But surely this was above and beyond the call of duty?

But there was that other part of her too; the part that enjoyed being taken and fucked vigorously. She heard Vasily breathe heavily as he slammed his cock into her, flesh slapping against flesh. Her own breathing was loud, knowing full well how the moisture flowing from her insides was alerting Vasily to her arousal.

She heard Vasily grunt, and thought he was about to cum, but instead he slowed down, coming to a standstill, his cock pushed to the hilt inside her. She cried out as one hand tugged on her hair and the other came down on her arse. Then, to her own horror she heard herself gasp, “Don’t stop! Keep fucking me!”

She heard that evil chuckle. “Why, Ms Perkins, I do believe you’re enjoying this.”

She was enjoying it too much. Out loud she said, “Just fuck me and get it over with, you bastard.”

Patricia was given a hard slap on her arse, much harder than before. “Any more of that kind of talk and I’ll stuff my cock straight up your arse, you little whore,” Vasily told her, tugging on her hair. “Now, are you going to play nice?”

She could hear her heart beating, her own heavy breathing. “Please fuck me some more,” she breathed.

“Good girl,” Vasily said, his cock beginning to move again. Patricia felt mortified, humiliated, but there was no way she could resist her own arousal as Vasily’s fingers once again dug into her flesh, and that hard cock fucked all sense out of her.

“Fuck me!” she breathed. “Just fuck me!”

Vasily chuckled as he thrust his cock even harder into her, then be began panting. Patricia wished she could reach back and touch herself, make herself cum so that the madness of her bodily urges might exhaust itself. But she felt it was best to do exactly as the man wanted. If he wanted her to be a little whore, strictly there for his own pleasure, then so be it.

“By any means necessary.”

Then came a huge grunt. She felt the man’s cock twitch. Hot, sticky seed flooded into her, burning her insides along with the shame that burned her soul.

As soon as Vasily had given her arse a hard slap and pulled out, she turned around to face him. “You’ve had your fun,” she told him. “Do we have a deal?” But how could she be taken seriously, standing there dressed only in her white lace bra, with cum dripping out of her newly fucked cunt.

Vasily’s hard eyes roamed her as he stuffed his slimy cock back in his trousers. “Oh this was just foreplay, Ms Perkins.”

“What?”

“I will send a car to pick you up tomorrow at four.”

Patricia’s outrage finally got the better of her. “You don’t own me!” she barked, as another dollop of Vasily’s sperm dropped from her pussy to the floor of the conference room.

As calm as anything, Vasily looked her straight in the eye and said, “Do you want this deal to go through?”

“By any means necessary.”

Patricia nodded. “Of course.”

“Then here’s the deal. I will send a car for you at four. You will be taken to my house. There you will do exactly as you are told. Then we have a deal. If you don’t agree to this…” he shrugged his shoulders. “Then all bets are off. You understand me, Ms Perkins?”

There was nothing hypothetical about this. Feeling deeply ashamed, but unable to find an alternative solution, Patricia nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

She slept badly that night, waking at intervals with conflicting feelings. On the one hand she felt dirty, the way she had allowed Vasily to use her. She knew very well that she was prostituting herself for the sake of the deal; that she was degrading herself, that she should never have allowed it.

Maybe she should have denied Vasily, and gone to her boss. But the boss’s words kept ringing in her head. “Make the deal happen. By any means necessary.” Every time she woke up, those words kept bouncing around inside her skull. “By any means necessary.”

Then she wondered if it was really that bad. She got to have sex without the hassle of going to a bar, or finding a man some other way, without endless negotiation. Vasily was a bastard, but she had a weakness for real bastards.

Her real worry was her reputation. If the deal went through and no-one was any the wiser, she’d come out of this looking really good. If what she’d done came out, she’d always be the slut who fucked her way to a deal. The trouble was that Vasily had made it more or less clear that the deal was contingent on her acquiescing to his sexual demands.

“By any means necessary.”

All of these thoughts kept on occupying Patricia the next day, but deep down she knew she wasn’t going to find an alternative. She made sure she showered and applied lotion all over her body in good time before four. She found a red top that showed plenty of cleavage, combining it with a short black skirt and black hold-ups. She let her hair hang free, flowing down to her shoulders. A pair of high heels completed the ensemble.

The car that came to collect her was a Beamer with tinted windows. The driver opened the back door for her, but there was no question of them conversing during the drive. Patricia was battling her nerves, now using her boss’s words as a mantra.

“By any means necessary. By any means necessary.”

The car swung into a driveway and continued to an expensive looking house, Vasily was already on the steps outside waiting.

“Good evening, Ms Perkins,” he said. “Time to conclude our deal, I think.” He had the air about him of a man who knows he’s on top, possibly fucking her up the arse too.

Still, it didn’t pay to be too abrasive. “It will be a pleasure,” she said.

“Yes,” Vasily said, drawing the syllable out. “The investors think so too. They’re looking forward to making your acquaintance.”

The way he said it left Patricia in no doubt. Her stomach tightened. He couldn’t be serious.

Vasily obviously read her face, for he said, “Don’t worry, Ms Perkins. No-one will know who you are. As far as they’re concerned, you’re just some whore I’ve hired for the evening.”

You despicable little man, Patricia thought. But she mustn’t say it. “You brought me here under false pretences,” she protested.

Vasily gave her his queer little smile. “You thought it was going to be a cosy evening with just the two of us, Ms Perkins? You underestimate me.”

Yes, Patricia thought. She had badly underestimated just how far Vasily was prepared to go. Was it too late to back down? She had to play for time. “What if I refuse to go along with this?”

Vasily shrugged. “Deal or no deal,” he said. “It’s a simple choice.”

Not knowing what to say or do, Patricia’s head was still full of those fateful words. “By any means necessary.”

She followed Vasily inside, where a woman dressed all in black was waiting. “I will leave you in Natasha’s capable hands,” Vasily said. “But remember, Ms Perkins, this is not difficult. Behave to the fullest extent of your capabilities, and we will have a done deal.”

“By any means necessary.”

Patricia followed in the slipstream of Natasha’s perfume, down a spiral staircase. She was taken to a small room and offered a drink, which she declined, thinking that whatever else, she still needed to have her wits about her.

“Don’t worry,” Natasha said. She had a heavy accent which Patricia couldn’t quite place. “It is quite safe. No-one will recognize you.”

“Are you sure?” Patricia didn’t know if she could trust Natasha any more than she could trust Vasily, but she had to ask.

“Men are simple creatures,” Natasha said. “Once you are naked, you will be no more than piece of fuck meat for them. You will have blindfold, and they will have no interest in you except as as their plaything. Boys and their toys, yes?”

Patricia wasn’t sure if the prospect of a blindfold was comforting or terrifying. But, she would have to work that one out for herself. “How can you be sure of that?”

Natasha flashed her a winning smile. “Oh, I have been the sweetener in Vasily’s deals many times,” she said. “I have met the men who fucked me both before and after, and they have never given any indication they recognize me. This is the truth.”

Was it? Patricia had no way of knowing.

The woman smiled at her. “I do research for Vasily,” she said. “Your boss, he was regular visitor at club where you worked as stripper. Has he ever given any indication he recognizes you?”

“No.” Was this true? Still Patricia had no way of knowing, but mention of her boss brought those words back.

“By any means necessary.”

Patricia took a deep breath. “So what am I expected to do?”

Natasha gave a little laugh. “You are expected to do whatever the men want of you. But mostly they will be doing the doing.”

There was a gleam in Natasha’s eye. Either she was going to enjoy seeing Patricia done to, or she was remembering her own sessions. “And what will that involve exactly?”

“Who can say?”

This was hardly an answer, and it certainly wasn’t comforting.

Natasha continued, “You take clothes off for money in the past. This is not so different.”

But it was, of course it was. Back then Patricia had been a student, making ends meet; stripping, yes, but never crossing the line. Now she was supposed to be a rising star in the world of business. And yet here she was, contemplating selling herself for the sake of a deal. It was beneath her dignity. She could still back down, Patricia thought. They couldn’t force her to do this. It was her own decision ultimately. But was it?

“By any means necessary.”

“It seems a shame to have to undress you,” Natasha was saying. “When you have made effort.”

“Undress?”

“Of course,” Natasha replied, her tone of voice indicating this was so obvious as to be beyond dispute. Her hands were already gripping Patricia’s top, pulling it over her head. Patricia tried to remind herself that she didn’t have to do this, but at the back of her mind she knew that she’d made her decision before she set foot in the house, regardless of how much she’d been kept in the dark about the true nature of the visit.

Besides, the feel of Natasha’s hands as she removed the top, undid Patricia’s bra, unzipped her skirt and pulled her panties down, caused a ripple of excitement to run through her. As bonkers as this was, Patricia’s body was reacting to the situation.

“You may keep stockings and shoes,” Natasha decided. “Men will like that. Men always do.”

Yes, Patricia thought, men did.

But when Natasha went to a corner of the room and retrieved a collar and leash, Patricia felt herself recoil inwardly. “What’s that?” she said.

Natasha smiled. “Little whores need to be kept on a leash,” she said. “For the rest of the evening you are nothing but a little whore.”

Patricia felt that she should protest. But then the truth descended on her once again. She was selling herself for the sake of this deal. She’d already let Vasily fuck her. She’d already turned herself into a whore. If she pulled back now, she’d have done it for nothing. Meekly she let Natasha fix the collar round her neck and attach the leash.

She didn’t protest at all when Natasha produced the black fabric that would serve as a blindfold. It was the one thing that would preserve her anonymity, after all. As everything went dark, the blindfold tied securely, Patricia asked herself one last time if she was really prepared to go through with this. As before, those fateful words bounced round her skull.

“By any means necessary.”

“Come!” Natasha said. Patricia felt a slight tightening of the collar and moved, following Natasha, hearing one door open, then after a short walk, hearing another door open. As she heard the chatter of voices, Patricia almost lost her nerve, but suddenly she was moving forwards again, hearing Vasily’s loud voice.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, causing the chatter to subside. “Here is the beautiful Natasha with the evening’s entertainment; the dirty whore who is yours to be used however you like, for as long as the effects of those little pills last.”

Oh shit, Patricia thought. She should have guessed, she should have known, she should have asked. She had no idea how many men were in the room, and with potency enhancing pills, who knew when or where this would end. Had she really agreed to this? She supposed she had, in a manner of speaking.

“By any means necessary.”

A foreign sounding voice she didn’t recognize was making itself heard. “She had better be worth it. I’m paying a million bucks for that ass. Where I come from, I can buy 3 hours of ass for 30 dollars.”

There was laughter. Patricia felt very glad she was blindfolded. The man’s words made her ashamed of herself. As a student she’d done what she had to to get by, but she’d never felt as cheap as she did now.

“Oh I’m sure the whore will provide complete satisfaction,” Vasily was saying.

“Whatever your desire, she will comply.”

Patricia shuddered to think what that might entail. She absolutely hated Vasily with a passion. There’d been no discussion about this, no agreement. By rights she should tell them all to get stuffed.

“Is that not so, whore?” Vasily said. Then he smacked her firmly on the bottom.

Did he really have to do that? Not even here, in front of strange men whose number she did not know, dressed only in shoes, stockings and a collar and leash could Patricia stop her body from reacting. What was wrong with her? Why did a firm slap on the arse have to be the one thing that set her off? At the same time she was well aware that this was her chance to put a stop to this, to tell them all she was not a whore, and would not be doing this.

Impatiently, Vasily said, “Go on, dirty whore. Tell the men how your fuck holes are available to them.” Then he slapped her arse again.

Shamed and humiliated, Patricia took a deep breath. She should tell them all to go fuck themselves.

“By any means necessary.”

“Gentlemen, I am a whore. I am at your disposal. My fuck holes are at your disposal.”

Strangely, saying the words caused her nerves to diminish somewhat. The deed was done, the agreement made. Now all she had to do was see the evening through.

“Natasha,” Vasily said.

Patricia felt the collar tighten round her neck. She moved a few steps in the direction indicated, stumbling when her legs came up against something that could only be a bed.

“Get up on the bed!” Vasily ordered. “Stand on all fours like the dirty bitch you are!”

Patricia complied.

“Natasha!” Vasily said again.

You could have heard a pin drop, Patricia thought, as she stood there. Then something cold and thick and slippery was trickling in between her buttocks. There was a lot of it; the smear of oily lubrication. The hands were Natasha’s, she was sure of it. Natasha massaging the stuff into her; plunging oily fingers into her arse and her cunt, preparing her.

Patricia tried to focus on the woman’s hands and fingers, rather than imagining the number of men that might be gathered around, staring at her pussy and arse as she was readied for their attentions. Natasha’s hands moved away, then a harsh voice said, “Roll over, slut! Spread your legs and show us that your cunt is ready for fucking!”

She complied, getting on her back, letting her legs fall apart, and using her hands to spread her pussy lips. There was appreciative chatter, before one voice rose above the crowd. “Very nice fuck hole. You want us to fuck your pussy, whore?”

Oh shit, what had she gotten herself into, but she must play her part. “Yes,” she said. “I want your cocks in my fuck hole.”

There were scattered laughs. “I’m a tit man myself,” a new voice said. “And those tits are fantastic.”

There was movement in the mattress. Hands were grabbing her breasts, squeezing. With no warning whatsoever, two fingers where shoved into Patricia’s pussy, as she continued to hold it open. This was it. If there’d ever been a time when she might have pulled the plug on this, that time was long gone. She was no longer Patricia the driven businesswoman, just Patricia the sex object, fuck toy, whose only name was Whore.

“Is she worth it?” someone asked. She was never going to be able to distinguish individual voices, so why bother?

“Well, we’ll soon find out,” someone else said.

There was more movement in the mattress now. There were hands too, all over her, touching her, feeling her. Those fingers stayed in her pussy, moving slowly, but other hands were grabbing her thighs and her breasts, roaming her stomach. A finger slid across her lips. “You suck cock, yes? Every whore must suck cock.”

She was Patricia, yet her only name was Whore, and she knew how she must answer. “I adore giving head.”

This seemed to please the men. Their hands kept roaming and grabbing at her flesh, only harder. Fingers pushed into her pussy; harsh, demanding. Her body responded, in the way it always did when men took control and made it clear to her what they wanted. It made her feel ashamed, but there was no turning back.

Now some of the men were speaking in a language she didn’t understand. Her breasts were squeezed hard, her nipples pinched. Hands manipulated her breasts, and her stomach lurched as she felt thin rope against her skin. Rope was wound round the base of her breasts, each in turn, then round the two, forcing them up against each other. She didn’t have to see to imagine how they were swelling out like big balloons. When fingers tweaked and pinched her nipples again, she let out a little whimper.

Immediately there was a hard slap across one of her breasts, stinging. “Dirty little whore! Do you not like what we do to you?”

Fingers shifting inside her; fingers pulling on her nipples. How she felt about it was neither here nor there. “I am your whore,” she said. “I am here to satisfy.”

The men laughed. Her tightly bound tits were grabbed and squeezed and shaken, then slapped. “Is anyone ready to fuck the whore?” a voice said. “She is good and ready for it.”

Was she? Of course she was. They were bastards, the lot of them. And she had a weakness for bastards.

The mattress bucked, her arms were pulled, fingers removed from her pussy. She sensed a body over her as her hands met hard cock meat. Her fingers closed around erections as another hard cock pushed at her entrance. “You want cock in that dirty fuck hole?” someone asked. His face must be right above hers.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want your cock. Please give it to me!”

The cock remained where it was, pushing at her, but not entering. “You want cock in your pussy?”

“Yes, I want cock in my pussy. Please fuck me!” Her hands moved, working the cocks on either side of her.

It wasn’t just talk. As degrading as the situation was, her body was overruling her head. “Listen to the slut begging!” someone exclaimed. Then she heard the sound of someone expectorating. Saliva slid across her cheek. Her breasts were slapped hard. “Dirty fucking cock whore! Look at her!” There followed foreign words Patricia didn’t get. Then, “Beg some more, slut!”

‘By any means necessary.’

Patricia just hadn’t imagined it would come to this. But if she must, she must. “Please fuck me!” she breathed. “I’m a slut. I’m a whore. I’m a cock whore. Please give me your cocks, all of you!”

There were more words she didn’t understand. Still the cock resting at her entrance refused to penetrate her. Her nipples were pulled, her breasts slapped. She was spat on again, one of the men rubbing the saliva across her face.

“Please fuck me! I’m your dirty cock whore. I’m here to satisfy.” She had no idea how the words were coming to her. She just knew that if this was the game, she wanted them to get on with it. “Fuck me! Use me!”

There was laughter, touching, slapping, all over her body. Still the cock remained poised to enter her, but not moving. She hated being held on tenterhooks. “Fuck me!” she cried. “Fuck me now!”

This proved to be a bad move. Suddenly she was laying there, untouched, sensing the men moving away. There was chatter, a lot of it in a foreign language. Then, someone said, “Remember, whore, we tell you what to do. You do not tell us what to do!”

“I’m sorry,” she said instinctively, then regretted saying it, since it obviously made no difference to the men. She felt the collar tighten round her neck and understood someone was pulling on the leash.

“Get on the floor on your knees, whore!”

Patricia rolled over, finding the floor with her feet and swiftly adopting the required position. As soon as she was on her knees, her head was yanked forwards. She felt a thick cock against her nose and lips. Instinctively she extended her tongue. “That’s good, little whore,” a voice said. “Show us what you can do.”

Patricia wriggled her tongue against the base of the cock, slowly working her way up. There was silence as her tongue slithered over the thick meat and teased the little string just below the head. She moved her tongue over the bulb, tickling the little slit. Then she opened her mouth wider, sliding her lips down over the glans.

She worked the thick shaft with her mouth, and as she did so her arms were grabbed; her hands led to other stiff cocks. She wanked them, trying hard to concentrate on sucking to the best of her ability.
 
Then her head was grabbed, shoved down on the cock forcefully. Taken by surprise, she gagged instantly, forcing her head back and off, spluttering and coughing, cursing inwardly.

The men were laughing. “What’s the matter, whore?” someone said. “Too rough for you?”

There was more laughter. Her head was shoved back down over the cock. “Earn your money, dirty whore!” someone said. “Remember, we’re paying good money for this.” Patricia was forced down on the cock by harsh hands. This time she was prepared, but it didn’t stop her from drooling. Her hands had come off the cocks with the shock, but soon she had them full again. Other cocks were being struck against her body, and one against her face.

“Earn your money, whore!” she was told again.

“Make the deal happen. By any means necessary.”

What choice did she have? Hard cocks slapped at her flesh. She was pushed and shoved, passed around, made to wank cock incessantly. But more than anything, there was the relentless use of her mouth. Over and over her face was shoved down on hard cock meat. She drooled and spluttered and coughed, but her mouth was hardly ever free of a cock trying to ram its way down her throat.

Patricia was no stranger to rough sex, but nothing came close to this. Nevertheless, she must do whatever it took. She must let these men fuck her face until her jaws ached and her throat refused to take any more.

“Dirty little cocksucking whore,” she was told as her head was pulled down over a lengthy piece of fuck meat. But she wasn’t doing anything; she was just letting herself be used by these men, over and over, cock after cock, until finally she felt one expand. Terrified that she would choke on the man’s cum, she twisted her head violently. There was salt on her tongue, then she managed to escape the cock. She gasped out loud as her head was yanked back. Some of the cum went into her mouth, but a huge spurt went straight up one nostril. She snorted, as the men laughed out loud. Whatever came out of her nose only added to the mess on her lips.

“You’re not much of a whore if you can’t take a load of cum in your mouth,” one of the men chastised. She was given a hard slap on one of her breasts and whined out loud. They were complete and utter bastards, these men. She’d never encountered bastards who came anywhere near this level of bastardry. The trouble was, it was always the bastards that got her juices flowing. As degrading as this was, she couldn’t help but follow it through to the end.

 “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “Does anyone else want to cum in my mouth? I’ll be a good little whore, I promise.”

Her hair was wound round a fist. “I’m sure you will,” a voice said.

There followed a brief exchange in that foreign language. Then she was lifted unceremoniously and dumped on the bed on her back. She was dragged round, so that her head hung over the edge of the bed. Blood rushed to it, making her dizzy. There was a rushing in her ears as her legs were pulled back. She felt cuffs being applied, then her legs were suddenly held in place, feet up high. She didn’t know how it was accomplished, only that she was laying there, with wide open legs, powerless to prevent anything from happening – as if she hadn’t already given up her own power to influence events.

Here she was again, legs spread, cunt fully on display. “Shall we see how much the whore’s pussy can take?” one of the men said.

As helpless as she felt, Patricia was also unable to resist the desire that raged within her tunnel of lust. “Such a whore’s cunt has seen much action, I’m sure. There must be much it can take,” another man said, causing laughter.

Ashamed of herself, Patricia nevertheless couldn’t help feel that she deserved everything that was said about her. She was a whore, selling herself for the sake of a deal, albeit a very important deal.

The slime on her face was running back up her cheeks where her head was hung upside down. Some was threatening to invade her nostrils too. She twisted her head. “Here, let me help you.” Natasha’s voice. A moist towel was applied, wiping away the slime, then soft lips pushed against Patricia’s mouth.

“Thank you,” Patricia said.

Natasha gave a soft chuckle. “We can’t have an accident. Not when you have so much cock left to suck.”

There was a slight lull. Patricia knew what was coming, and her stomach was tying itself in knots. Again there were voices speaking in a foreign tongue. Then one said in English, “Open wide, whore!”

Patricia opened her mouth for the cock to invade her. As her mouth was filled, two fingers shoved their way into her pussy. She was totally helpless, with her legs tied, her head hung over the side of the bed, being face-fucked and finger-fucked. This was the price she had to pay.

“Let’s get that slut pussy filled to capacity,” one of the men said. Fingers twisted and turned in her pussy. They were utter bastards, but she’d always gone for the bastards.

The fingers were replaced with an object of some kind, probably a dildo. Patricia wasn’t focused on that, though. The cock in her mouth was going so deep, forcing saliva out of her. Again a trickle moved towards her nostril, and she tried to twist her head. Instead, her nose was pinched shut. Her head began to swim as the cock in her mouth was forced right the way in.

It was only a matter of seconds, but when it was over Patricia spluttered and gasped for breath like never before. Slime trickled into her nostril and she made an effort to lift her head and snort it out. This time she couldn’t help herself. “You fucking bastards,” she said.

“Shut the whore up!” someone barked.

Her mouth was invaded again, her throat punished. She was drooling horribly, and once again her nose was pinched shut. She was dimly aware that ever bigger objects were being used to stretch her pussy, but focused all her attention on her mouth, on being allowed to breathe again.

This time her face was wiped clean, then there she had cock in her mouth again, fucking her face. Maybe it was the same one, maybe a different one; she couldn’t tell, she just had to focus on surviving the punishment. Punishment for what? Being a whore? Selling herself for the sake of a deal?

As harsh cock pushed its way into her mouth, Patricia was aware that the men were no long using objects on her pussy, but were back using fingers. Two fingers, three fingers, four fingers. The hand started twisting as it pushed inwards. Shit, they couldn’t be serious.

“Is the whore ready?” someone said.

She twisted her head violently, managing to free herself. Then she was crying out as an entire hand forced its way into her pussy. “Ow, fuck! Are you trying to kill me?” she yelled.

“Shut the whore up!” a voice said.

Cock was rammed back into her mouth. She was helpless, powerless to resist as a big cock fucked her face, and a man’s arm stretched her right out, his fist shifting inside her. Her head was swimming as she experienced another sensation. Plastic was pushed against her clit; vibrating plastic. She’d never ever experienced anything like this, and suddenly it was as if she was being taken to a place she’d never been before.

Later, Patricia would rather fancifully liken it to a religious experience, but it was of course no such thing. She just knew that some madness and seized her, so that she hardly knew what was happening, but wanted it to continue. The cock must have left her mouth because she was wailing out loud. She didn’t even remember cumming, but she knew she had, because she remembered someone say, “Wow! Look at that bitch squirt!” Then there was warm, sticky seed on her tightly bound breasts, and the vibrating stopped, her pussy was empty.

She lay there whimpering with the climactic exertion. Soft lips were sucking on her nipples. Natasha again? She didn’t know, only that the sperm was being licked off her.

“Good little whore,” someone was saying. She felt a pull on her ankles. She wasn’t sure how it was happening, but she was being hoisted, so that she was hardly touching the bed at all, her head still hanging over the side. Suddenly fingers were probing her anus, an object filled her pussy, and then the vibrations started again.

She started wailing again. It was unbearable and ecstatic at one and the same time. She was as powerless to resist the men as she was to resist the way her body reacted. She felt a new climax build like an oncoming train. She was only dimly aware of herself screaming and screaming as a second orgasm ripped through her.

Patricia couldn’t have done or said anything, even if she’d wanted to. She was aware that the men were moving her body, that they were liberating her from the cuffs, bringing her down on the bed. Someone slapped her tits. “Are you awake, whore?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Good,” the man said. “You need to earn your money!”

Patricia wasn’t quite sure when or how it had happened, but she realised suddenly that someone had inserted a butt plug, and that the night was far from over. Fuck, they were right bastards, but she always went for the bastards.

She was doing nothing herself. Her body was dragged and lifted into position. She wasn’t at all sure how she managed to remain on all fours when she found herself in that position. Her arse was smacked hard and she moaned out loud. The butt plug was pulled out and replaced several times, and she moaned as she felt her sphincter open and close, completely abused.

The men spoke in their foreign tongue, laughing, no doubt saying something disgusting and degrading about her. She was spanked some more, then came a voice in English. “Time to spitroast the dirty whore, yes?”

It was both real and unreal. The butt plug was fixed firmly in place again. Her arse was slapped, her hair pulled. The bastards; it was as if they knew what really got her going. Two cocks entered her at once; one from behind, the other shoving into her mouth. She didn’t know how much more she could take, but it wasn’t her choice. She would have to take everything they gave her, until they were satisfied. That was the deal.

"By any means necessary."

The men slammed into her, fucking her as if they were trying to get their cocks to meet in the middle. She wasn’t just drooling, the saliva was gushing out of her mouth, soiling her chin. But there was liquid at the other end too, oozing out of her pussy and dribbling down her thighs. She couldn’t be sure how many men there were, how many men who fucked her mouth and cunt as she stood there on all fours. She couldn’t be sure how long they fucked her for either. She could almost feel herself dissolve as she became no more than their fuck meat, an object.

They let her know it too. As their cocks kept on ramming her mouth and cunt, they continuously referred to her as their “cock whore”, their “dirty little fuckslut”, their “piece of Swiss cheese”. She was told, “Take it up your dirty little fuck holes.” She was told that the only point of her was her fuck holes. She was their “spitroasted little whore”, “only fit for one thing.”

It was shameful and degrading, but the most shameful thing was how her pussy leaked as cock meat ravaged her mouth and pussy. Her tightly bound breasts bobbed beneath her. Fingers squeezed her nipples as stiff rods abused her holes, but her breasts were numb.

Then there was nothing. To her own amazement, Patricia heard her own voice. “Don’t stop. Keep using me. I’m your whore. Abuse my dirty fuck holes, please!”

The men laughed. “That’s the spirit, good little whore,” one of the men said, pulling her hair.

“You sound as if you’re ready to take it up the ass,” a voice said. “I’ve been waiting for that ass a long time. Are you ready, whore?”

“Yes,” Patricia breathed. “I’m ready.”

“You want my cock up your ass, you good-for-nothing whore?”

“Yes, please fuck my arse.”

She was spanked hard, before the butt plug was removed, once again stretching her sphincter. She felt the man’s cock up against the opening, then she felt him inch his way into her. “Yes,” she breathed, “that’s right, that’s good.”

The cock slid further in, and further in, and further in; inch by inch, but how many inches were there? The thing wasn’t thick, but it was long, seemingly never-ending. Patricia could have sworn she could feel the thing snaking up through her intestines.

“How fucking long is that thing?” she gasped.

She should have realised she’d be spanked for her troubles. “Shut the whore up!”

Cock once again entered Patricia’s mouth. It was unbearable, and yet all too wonderful. As the mammoth length moved in her back passage, as she began drooling on cock, she felt the plastic against her clit again. Someone was using the vibrator on her from underneath. Natasha it would seem. “Cum for the men, dirty whore,” she said. “Do it! Cum for them!”

Oh shit, she’d never be the same again, neither body nor desires. She had a cock in her mouth, and that enormous length up her arse. She was nothing but a vessel for cock, and as shameful as it was, the sensations against her clit were driving all sense out of her. It felt like her whole body was full of pounding, rampant male meat.

“Cum for the men!” Natasha ordered. “Cum for them!”

“Cum for us, dirty bitch,” someone else echoed.

Her body seemed to become lust itself. Her body was just one giant lump of fuck meat, being pounded by hard cocks. Her body was turning in on itself, imploding. The two cocks kept on thrusting as she shook and moaned orgasmically. She felt the cock in her arse twitch and pulse. For a moment she thought it was actually shooting sperm up through her body and into her mouth. Then she realised that both men were cumming at once, shooting their seed into her.

As her arms gave way, and she collapsed onto the bed, sperm drooling from her mouth, hands grabbed her. There was to be no relief. In her post-orgasmic state, she remained passive as the men turned her over on her back. Her legs were grabbed and pulled up, her ankles cuffed again. Her legs were yanked back further, so that she lay folded over. They must have fixed the cuffs to something, because there was no way she could move her legs. She just lay there, legs spread, pussy exposed.

“Where’s the funnel?” someone said.

Funnel, what did they want with a funnel?

The answer came soon enough. She felt the plastic spout as it was pushed into her cunt. There was some talk in that foreign language, then a man said, “Now, whore, we are going to fill your pussy with our sperm. You will be our little cum bucket. You like that, yes?”

“Yes,” Patricia said hoarsely. There was no other answer. Anyway, this gave her time to recover from everything else that had happened, even though the position she was in made her legs ache. The mattress bucked beneath her. She could sense that there was more than one man there.

At first she tried to keep count, but gave it up almost immediately. It was impossible to tell how many men there were, except that there were many. There was a lot of panting and grunting. In her mind’s eye she saw them, wanking over the funnel as they stared at her bound breasts, then shooting their cum into the thing. She could feel it as load after load trickled down through the funnel and out into her vagina. Load upon load of creamy spunk, filling her up until she felt sure her pussy must overflow.

Then, as the grunts stopped, and the foreign babbling took over, she felt something else, that must have been inserted through the funnel. At first she didn’t understand what it was. Then plastic touched her lips. She eased her tongue out, identifying the thing as a tube even before a voice said, “Now, dirty whore, you will suck all of that cum out of your pussy and swallow it.”

Patricia had found herself in some pretty kinky situations in her life, but none could match this. It didn’t even matter to her if she found it degrading or not any longer. There was only one thing to do; obey. She began sucking on the end of the tube.

It seemed to take forever for the liquid to finally arrive in her mouth. When it did, it was lukewarm and spicy. She wouldn’t have been able to identify the spices even if she’d wanted to.

“Swallow that cum,” she was told. “Drink it down. Is good for you. Cum from pussy.”

She sucked and sucked on the tube, swallowing at intervals, and feeling the men’s combined seed slide down her throat. “Very good whore,” a voice said. “She has skill!”

It may have been a compliment of sorts, but to Patricia it now felt as if she was feeding on her own shame. There seemed to be a never-ending supply, too. She sucked and sucked and swallowed and swallowed. It seemed impossible that she should be doing this. It wasn’t that she was a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but this… It wasn’t that it was degrading, it was more the shame of enjoying being at the mercy of these men, of enjoying prostituting herself. And it had to be. Of course it did.

“By any means necessary.”

Patricia was driven home in the early hours of the morning. By then she’d been through a second round, which would forever remain something of a blur in her memory. All that she knew was that her holes had been pounded until every part of her ached. She dimly remembered sitting on some kind of vibrating apparatus while men fed her cock. She came and came, and cum was fired over her face and tits.

Most of Sunday was spent asleep. When she was awake, Patricia found herself gripped by the fear that Vasily, that bastard, had let everyone know who she was. It was with a sense of trepidation that she returned to work on Monday, still aching, and still a little hoarse from the abuse she’d taken.

To her amazement, there wasn’t a flicker of a hint from Vasily as to what had happened. Her own boss was all smiles, beaming as the deal was sealed. And then there were the others, the investors. Patricia recognized voices, and it took all her powers of self-control to remain her calm and unperturbed self as she remembered those voices calling her a dirty whore and making her do things… such things. Yet the men gave no indication that they recognized her, or her voice. It was as Natasha had said; all she’d been on Saturday was a piece of fuck meat of no importance to them at all, other than as a means to their own sexual gratification. As relieved as Patricia was, that thought was deeply humiliating.

Her boss suggested she take a few days off, to enjoy the considerable bonus she was given. Patricia did so, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d prostituted herself, something she’d never done in her days as an exotic dancer. But she’d got the job done.

By the means she’d found necessary.