Part-Time part 1 As many of you may know, I never quite finished this story. I honestly couldn't decide which way to go. I have since come up with a great twist, but now time has become an issue. You will notice that this part ends abruptly. I still don't know if that was how I intended or I'm just missing part of the story! Corey wanted to be an actress more than anything. Only 22, she had left her small town home and ventured out to the big city right after high school. She had always been told she would be a great actress. She certainly had the looks: 5'6" tall and 115 lbs with blonde hair, hazel eyes and an athletic figure. She certainly had no trouble filling the local theater when she was performing. But more than her looks, she knew she could act, if only she could catch a break. Her first month in Los Angeles quickly showed her how difficult it would be to achieve that goal. As she walked out of her fifth agency after an even more abrupt turndown, she knew she would have to spend some time and a lot of money to establish a legitimate name in the business. She sat in her car and looked at the flyer from a headshot studio. $1,000 for good pictures. She sat back and thought about the acting classes at UCLA. Corey needed money, and a lot of it. As she pulled into her driveway and got out, she ran into her neighbor. Cindy was about the same age, young and beautiful. She never seemed to need money and drove an expensive car to prove it. Corey smiled as they met at the walkway. "Hi, Cindy," Corey said. "Can I ask you a question?" Cindy beckoned her neighbor into her downstairs apartment. "Sure, Corey. Been looking for new headshots," she asked as she set the groceries down on the counter. "Yeah, just another thing in the long list of expenses. I need money," Corey said, desperation filling her eyes. "I don't mean to be forward, but you always seem to have plenty of money. How do you do it?" Cindy smiled and hesitated. Obviously the answer was something deeply private. But she only needed to look into her neighbor's eyes to see that this girl needed help. "I'm afraid I might shock you with the answer, Corey." She took a seat beside her on the couch, trying to judge just how much to tell her. "I've been working for an escort agency. They pay well if you are willing to 'cooperate', if you know what I mean." Obviously, she didn't know. "Look, Cindy. I'm pretty desperate here. I came out to L.A. with some savings but I've pretty much burned through it. If I don't get some type of job soon I won't make rent, much less have money to pursue my acting. On top of that, I need to spend about $10,000 for acting classes and headshots." Cindy could see the desperation in Corey's eyes. "Ok, I'll let you in on this. But you cannot tell anybody, even if it upsets you," Cindy looked hard into her friend's eyes. "Can I trust you?" "Yes, I promise." Cindy stood up and retrieved an L.A. Xpress magazine, a local listing of adult services, from the coffee table. She flipped to a back page to a large ad for an escort agency. It advertised young ladies for companionship. "This is the agency I do work with. It's usually part-time and I can chose when to work. I make anywhere from $75 to $150 a date, which can last for three hours." "That doesn't sound like much," Corey murmured as she examined the ad. "Well, it's a start," again she tried to judge the level her friend was willing to go for. "That base rate is the least involved date possible." "How can I earn more?" "Corey, I'm not sure you're ready for anything else. It can get pretty rough out there." Corey looked her friend in the eye with a stern set. "I need to make money. I've had sex before, if that's what it takes." Cindy smiled and patted her hand. "Ok, I'll set up an interview." Corey smoothed her dress as she waited outside the door. Her first assignment had been this house somewhere in the Palisades. She reexamined the short silk dress she had chosen for the night. Her breasts stood out nicely against the smooth material, her semi-hard nipples poking nicely forward. She knew she looked strikingly beautiful, with her blonde hair hanging seductively to the middle of her bare back. It took only a few moments before the door was opened, revealing a handsome man. He beckoned her in with a wave as she examined him. Handsome, about 35, he had the good looks and gentle smile of a wonderful first client. After a few pleasantries, she was led toward the living room. Corey allowed him to slip the thin straps off her shoulders, letting the dress drop from her body. Only her garter belt, hose and a lacy G-string clung to her body. Her firm, round breasts offset her thin waist. Her client beckoned her to kneel in front of him and she immediately unzipped his fly, pulling out his hard penis. She began licking carefully as his hands rested on the back of her head. By the fifth client, Corey was getting impatient. She was making money, but to date only $800 sat in the bank. The school year was approaching and the agencies would only wait so long before moving on to the next young beauty. She sat down with Cindy during lunch and expressed her concern. "It's not fast enough, Cindy. Can I make any more money at this?" "Well, the only way you can is by providing certain fetishes. The more extreme you are willing to go for, the more it pays." "Like what are we talking about? Dressing up in some leather and spanking old men?" "That's cheap. I'm talking about getting tied up and letting men spank and whip you. It can get pretty rough, but it pays very well." "How much?" "Well, at the lowest level, where you simply get spanked, you make $300 a session." Corey seemed disappointed. "Of course, if you're willing to go much farther, you can make up to $2,000 a session, or more." Corey's eyes lit up at the mention of that much money. "Ok, say I wanted to get $2000. What would I have to do?" "Well, first it usually is an all night thing. You would usually report to a house or private dungeon and stay there until late morning." "Big deal. But what would I have to do?" Corey was almost too eager, but Cindy knew if she didn't tell her, she would go to management and never get the real story. The owner of the escort agency was always looking for girls who where willing to go to this level. Most where too afraid to even ask. "Have you ever been tied up before?" "Sure. I had a boyfriend who would tie me to the bed for sex. No big deal." Cindy laughed. "No, Corey. This isn't playing with a boyfriend. These guys are going to be really rough with you." "I can take it." "Can you take being covered in thick latex from head to toe, a rubber ball stuffed into your mouth and your arms bound behind you so tight that your elbows touch?" She could see that this wasn't what Corey expected. Never a better time to scare her away from it. "These guys will suspend you by the wrists then whip you until your body is covered with welts. Sure, they can't actually damage you permanently, but some tortures can be hidden. I had one friend who went for this stuff. She was forced, one evening, to balance herself on a large dildo shoved up her ass while she had her breasts whipped with a leather tarse. That's the kind of thing to expect, and worse." Corey was silent as she tried to make sense of this bizarre scene. Cindy was almost angry. She knew that this 22 year old could hardly make decisions like this for herself. She had seen it happen to others and she didn't want her friend to fall through the same hole. But Corey's face re-hardened. "I'm willing to try it. At least I can do it a few times then quit when I have enough money." Cindy could only shake her head. "It's not that easy, Corey." For the first time, Corey was scared. Her first night as a sex slave had started ok. She had shown up at a large mansion where she was escorted inside. The young maid led her into a side room where she was asked to strip. As she slipped out of her clothes, Corey examined the girl beside her. She appeared to be barely 19 herself. She was brunette, with a beautiful figure and long, lean legs. Her calves where enhanced by the six inch heeled pumps she wore on her feet. Corey was intrigued by the thin latex dress the girl wore. Stretched across her chest and just over her butt, the material seemed to be part of her skin. Once undressed, the maid slipped behind Corey and pulled her arms back behind her back. She could feel the cool leather strap circle her elbows and they where slowly drawn together. She gasped at the last few inches, her shoulders pulled back harshly and her breasts pushed forward, but the maid did not stop until her elbows where firmly strapped together. A similar strap held her wrists together as well. Next, a thick leather collar was placed around her neck and locked into position. She wanted to complain it was too tight, but she had been warned not to speak without permission. She could feel the maid's hand on top of her head, encouraging her to tilt her chin up. A large, red rubber ball was pressed against her teeth and forced between them. The ball was far too large to fit between her jaw, but the maid persisted until the rubber flexed just enough to fit inside. Corey could feel the ball pressing against the top of her mouth and forcing her tongue against the bottom. She nearly choked on the rubber as her eyes teared up from the incredible strain on her jaws. While she adjusted to the pain, the maid turned her blonde hair into a pony tail. Once finished, Corey could feel something dangling from the end of her hair. But as she tried to look, struggling to lower head with the wide collar, she was pushed back onto a short stool. The maid examined her feet and chose a set of shoes from the closet. Corey tried to complain as she caught sight of the ballet boots, knowing she had little chance of walking in them. But no sound escaped her throat and the maid lifted one, then the other foot and strapped on the torturous shoes. A short six inch chain connected to rings on each boot, holding her pointed feet close together. A short leash connected to her collar and the maid pulled her up. As Corey's weight rested on her toes, she could feel her feet being crushed by the pointed end of the thick rubber boots. She tried to fight, determined to sit back down, but the maid forcefully pulled Corey forward on her toes and led her out of the room. By the time they made their way to the living room, tears of pain streamed down Corey's face. Each step crushed her toes further and her shoulders had begun a slow ache. For a moment, during the painful walk, she had caught sight of herself in a large mirror. She was impressed by the sight, her pussy dampening as she stared at the captured Amazon in the mirror. She was impressive with the toe shoes, her legs practically sculpted. Her arm bondage pushed her already impressive breasts out further. She could now see a thin leather strap laced into her ponytail, dangling just between her ass cheeks, but she had no time to figure it out. Finally they entered the main room, where a group of well dressed men where waiting. She was led to the center of the room where a chain hung from the ceiling. A small clamp was connected to the end of the chain, which the maid slipped into Corey's nostrils, clamping it onto her septum. The last few turns drew a scream of pain from the slave girl, but the gag muffled the sound. The maid pressed a small button on the wall, drawing up the slack until Corey's head turned up. She had little choice but to stand there. Her feet shrieked in pain from there torture but her septum could not handle much pressure either. New tears poured down her cheeks. "Gentleman, this is Corey," the oldest of the men spoke from behind her. "You will notice her virgin skin. She has never felt the sting of a whip. Tonight we will indoctrinate her." Corey shivered in fear at his voice, struggling to see the men around her. She could suddenly feel hands across her body as they began caressing her skin. Fingers pinched her hard nipples while others pressed into her pussy and ass. She gasped at this intrusion, but could do little to complain. After some time, the hands left. The nose chain was released and she was led toward a new room. The dungeon was dark and foreboding. It's stone walls covered with implements of torture. She was led to the middle of the room where her arms where unbound and attached to two chains hanging from the ceiling. The slack was slowly removed from them until her arms where pulled taught and apart over her head. Chains connected to her toe shoes began pulling her feet apart, the chain holding them together removed, until she was hanging from her wrists. She was now stretched wide in the room, unable to see more than a few feet in front of her. A smooth layer of sweat covered her body as she waited in anticipation for what came next. She could see a man, just in the shadows, take position in front of her. The sounds of another man could be heard behind her. Suddenly, two whips lashed out and struck her chest and back simultaneously. Corey jerked in pain from the blow. She looked down to see a wide red welt stretching from her left breast across to her right side. Without warning, another blow placed a new welt across her right breast. The pain burned into her soul and new tears burst from her eyes. She felt dizzy from the pain as this new torture was forced upon her. She tried to struggle away, but the chains held fast. Her voice screamed in pain, but the huge gag stopped all sounds. As more and more strokes fell across her body she knew that this was not the worst. She would be in this house all night. "After the whipping, I was strapped to a low, long pad. My arms where tied behind me again and my legs where spread wide." Corey continued as she tried to find a comfortable position to sit. Her ass was a series of red welts. But Cindy had asked so she was going to hear. "They tied me to this thing so I was sort of on my knees but bent over too. That strap in my hair was connected to my elbow strap and pulled back so my face was held forward. I think I must have swallowed a gallon of cum that way, not to mention how many times I was fucked in the ass and pussy." "It must have been horrible," Cindy cried, trying to comfort her neighbor. "I told you these guys would be rough." "Well, I really had no idea. I guess I won't be wearing a bikini for a few weeks!" She laughed for the first time and Cindy joined in. "So you've gotten this out of your system, I hope," Cindy asked. "I don't know, Cindy," Corey appeared thoughtful, "It was terrifying and painful, but I made $3,000 that night. That's hard to beat, no pun intended." "You've got to be kidding! It was pure torture and you might go back for more?" "I figure I can stand it a couple more times. By then I'll have enough money to get back on my feet." "You're crazy." "No, just sore." The owner called Corey into his office for the first time. They had only spoken briefly after she got hired, and once before she went to the dungeon house for the first time. Since then she had been sent on some easy jobs. One guy had put her into a hog-tie and watched an Outer Limits marathon all night. Another had put her in a discipline hood, complete with ear plugs and gag. Corey's arms where bound behind her. A spreader bar was strapped between her knees and her ankles where tied together. A strap from the top of the hood was pulled to tie to her ankles. She was bent backwards harshly but she had no choice, since the only connection she had with the outer world was the two breathing tubes stuck up her nose. The guy then spent the night whipping her pussy. Though the discipline hood was scary, Corey quickly became aroused by both the bondage and the pussy whipping. She knew she was changing, starting to enjoy the scene, but she was still driven by money. She knocked on the door and entered the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?" "Yes, Corey. Please come in," he gestured to a seat and closed the door behind her. "I've been impressed with your interest in the S&M scene. All your clients have expressed extreme pleasure with you." "Thank you, sir," Corey blushed. "No, it's you I must thank. But I have a proposition for you." "Yes?" "Do you remember the first house you went to for an S&M client?" Corey shuddered at the memory. "Yes, I do." "Well, that client has requested you again, but under a set of particular circumstances." "I'm not sure I would care to see that client again, Mr. Stanley." Corey was afraid of him and his friends, though she couldn't explain the stirring she felt in her pussy. "Well, let me tell you what he has in mind. First of all, let me tell you how much he is willing to pay you." "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm interested." "He will pay you $200,000." Corey sat in shock. What could possibly be the point of paying her so much money? She knew immediately she would consider almost anything for that sum. The money would take her far beyond her immediate needs. She would be able to pursue real acting without the distraction of a regular job. It was more money than she could possibly imagine. "What does he want for that money?" Mr. Stanley cleared his throat. "Well, apparently this client was rather enamored with you. He wants to hire you for a two month period. During this time you will be his personal slave. You must understand that the only restrictions he will have on you is not to cause any permanent markings on you. Beyond that, he will insist on no limits. You will have no safeword and must obey him completely or bear his chosen punishment. You will be available to him sexually, and pleasure any other person, man or woman, he sees fit." Corey was speechless. Though she was immediately afraid, she knew she would never get another chance of seeing that kind of money again. She could still feel that lash marks on her breasts, though the outer marks had longs since faded. Her eyes rose to meet Mr. Stanley's. "Ok, I agree." Three weeks had passed and Corey was beginning to forget what it was like to be without pain. She sat quietly, as she was trained, at the feet of her master while he read his book. The carpet was soft on her knees, a sharp contrast to the cool, hard stone floor of her small cell in the dungeon. For now, though, she was on her knees in the living room, her head bowed as she quietly thought of the past few weeks. She sat as trained, her knees spread wide, her back straight as possible. Her arms had been bound nearly continually from the moment of her arrival. Just recently, her wrists had been forced up beyond the small of her back until the steel cuffs around them could be bolted to the back of her steel collar. The pain was even more excruciating when a steel band was placed around her elbows and they where pulled together as well. Her shoulders where pulled back hard and her arms where now in a reverse prayer, rigid rivets holding them in place, rather than the more flexible, and less permanent, leather straps. Her master preferred this since it provided access to her back for the whips. With her head bowed, she could just see the thick ring that had been pierced through her clit. Her nipple piercings where more visible. A thick steel ring had been placed behind her nipple, with a second piercing placed through the middle of her nipple and filled with a steel rod. She could feel the ring in her septum as well as the rubber coated metal plates on either side of her septum, providing a firm hold for the ring. Her master had nearly hung her from this ring a number of times. Her tongue had been pierced as well, but rather than a ring, he had placed a grommet in her tongue. This provided more flexibility when he was feeling particularly creative. She had spent nearly an entire night with her tongue grommet connected to another slave girl's clit ring, forced to bring her to orgasm over and over. She could still feel the custom ballet shoes on her feet. Unlike the first set she had worn, these had been custom made of rubber. Straps held them on like permanent fixtures. The toes where much sharper as well, forcing her toes into the point with vicious precision. She had worn these since the first day and knew she would wear them to the last. She could still see various markings on her body from the weeks of punishment. There where the marks on her breasts from the caning he had given them a few days ago. Her shaved pussy was still red from the heavy strapping he had applied that morning. She wore a latex G string that was a V in the front, connecting just past her clit ring, holding in two blowup dildoes. Both had been expanded to three times their size, with the ass dildo stretching her wider than every before. End part 1
Part-Time Part 2 This is actually my favorite part of this story so far. I still get thrills when I read her predicament at the head of it. It incorporates a number of my passions: ballet boots, piercings, uncomfortable bondage and an innovative situation. I am constantly inspired by Gord and his writers and their imaginative ideas. Corrie struggled to maintain her balance as the party goers pushed past her in the crowded room. She was having trouble seeing them coming and they held little concern for her. The party had been raging for hours now and Corrie, the designated waitress, had stumbled around on her painful toe shoes providing a variety of refreshments. Her arms still bound behind her, wrists forced high up on her back, she could not use them for balance. The head harness was tightly strapped onto her, a long leather lace extending from the ring at the top of her head, down her back and between her ass cheeks. The other end connected to her clit ring. If she did not keep her chin up high, forcing her to look at the ceiling, she would pull painfully on the piercing. Unfortunately, another small strap connected from her clit ring, up to the tray that was suspended at belly button level. The small rods pierced through the middle of her nipples had been connected to a short chain that supported the back side of the tray just below her large breasts. Another chain connected to the front edge of the tray and stretched up to her nose ring. With the shuffle of weight shifting on and off her tray, it was difficult to keep it level. She could only rely on the feeling of balance, since she was unable to look down far enough the make sure. Instead, she reacted, alternately pulling on her sensitive clit or her pierced nipples, while feeling the strain on her nose ring. If she didn't keep moving, the sting of a buggy whip on her tender ass reminder her, while causing her to teeter on her toes. The short chain keeping her ankles close made it difficult to recover from an unplanned stumble. It had been a month since she had signed on to her two month contract with her master. She had trouble remembering that she would receive $200,000 for the stint as slave girl. The memory seemed clouded by the series of tortures and humiliations Corrie faced daily. When she first came to California to study acting and try her hand at Hollywood, she never imagined she would be able to walk in ballet shoes or take a large dildo up her ass. Instead, she had been forced to service men and women alike, learning skills she never thought possible in bringing a person to orgasm. The pain of punishment had been excruciating. Corrie had never imagined she would be treated so much like an animal. The ring in her nose alone had reminded her daily how much she had become an object, a tool for pleasure, but not her own. Lost in thought, Corrie could not sense the slavegirl who was crawling across her path. The master, whipping his slave as he drove her across the room, was focused on the subject of his punishment. As Corrie stumbled across the slave, she launched the drinks from the tray onto the master and several other dominants close by. As she fell, unable to stop herself, she knew that she had just made a horrible mistake. As the tray struck the floor and folded up against her body, the yank on her clit chain brought a scream from her throat before she fainted. Corrie awoke in darkness. A blindfold covered her eyes but she could hear some familiar sounds around her. For a moment she assumed she was still on the floor at the party, but as she tried to shift her position, she realized she had been bound in a much different way. Suddenly, the blindfold was taken off and she squinted in the bright light. Quickly she recognized a bathroom. Beside her, a man's urinal was installed in the wall. She couldn't move her head, but she could feel how she was bound. Her arms, still forced high up her back, had been clamped to the wall behind her, keeping her near the floor. She could feel two new dildos forced inside her and, as she tried to shift her lower body, realized that they where fixed to the floor and she was spiked onto them. Her knees where strapped wide open, her ankles where strapped to her upper thighs. Well, at least she wasn't on her toes. Her head had been strapped back again, the new head harness bending her neck harshly back. Something strange filled her mouth and she could feel something down her throat as well. As she tried to breath, she quickly realized she could only breath through her nose. Before she could truly understand her predicament, she could see her master enter the room. "I see you're awake now." He was angry, far more angry than she had ever seen. A shiver of true fear ran down her back. "You really made a mistake. Do you know how embarrassing it was to apologize to all my guests. You should be better trained than that." He leaned over in front of her and grabbed her left nipple rod, twisting it harshly. Corrie's eyes watered as a gurgle escaped her throat. "Well, I won't take any chances with you now. For the next four weeks you will be my toilet slave." Corrie panicked. She was in a bathroom, tied in a position beside a man's urinal. Did this mean... "I hope you enjoy surviving on urine and shit, because that's what your purpose in life will be for the next month. This is a bathroom in a friend's dungeon. They have parties here every night and quite a lot through the day. You should have plenty of customers. I'll see you in a week." Corrie tried to struggle, to escape this horrible twist. She had been ok with the humiliation, the pain and torture, the body piercings and the sexual servitude. She had never imagined she would be forced to be a toilet to a series of strangers. She was scared to death and, in her panic, released her bladder. The dildo shoved up her pussy had been designed to catch her own urine as well, pumping it back into the large clear basin that had been positioned above her open mouth. A large funnel led from the basin into her mouth. Though the tube deposited her urine into her mouth, another tube had been locked into her throat, preventing her from anything other than swallowing. Rubber wedges had been forced between her teeth, holding her mouth wide open. The result was her mouth as a reservoir for anything deposited into the basin above her, including her own excretions. As her own urine filled her mouth and she was forced to swallow it, tears began flowing from her eyes. Three days had passed and Corrie had been unable to move an inch. A servant arrived almost hourly to wrench her bonds tighter. She knew now that her body was bound by not just straps, but steel bands riveted to the wall and floor. She would never be able to move again until the steel rivets where cut away. She had lost count of the number of men and women who had defecated or urinated into her basin. At first she had to fight the incredible urge to vomit as she felt her mouth filling with warm shit. She tried to scream before the party goer relieved themselves, hoping to gain some sympathy. Instead they often smiled at the whimper that escaped her throat, then tried even harder to fill the basin, forcing her to take more than the typical mouthful. Corrie had even lost the ability to cry. She knew now that she had fallen to the lowest level possible. Not even treated as an animal, now she was just a receptacle for a series of strangers. It was a vicious cycle. Often, after a big party night, her stomach would be distended by the waste of the guests. She had consumed everything from plain urine to diarrhea. In the middle of the night, after the last guest had urinated, she would urinate or defecate herself, feeling her own waste products pumped back up into the basin and into her mouth. It was at these times she felt she wanted to die. But she could not do anything except swallow her own feces again. For seven long days she had been used as a toilet. Once released, she thought the worst was over. She quickly discovered her master was still very angry. She was blindfolded once again, unlocked from the wall and transported to another location. It was an hour before she was chained on a cold, dirt floor. Her blindfold was removed as someone plugged her nose with stoppers. Long hoses where cut through the center of the stoppers so that she could breath. The other end of the hoses extended away from her body into the darkness. Rubber wedges once again held her mouth wide open, though her throat was blocked, preventing her from breathing through her mouth. She could swallow once again, but only breath through the long hoses in her nose. The steel collar was still locked around her throat, with a short chain that kept Corrie on her knees. Her arms where still bound behind her back, rivets still holding her wrists to the back of her collar. As the hands left her once again, she tried to cry out but the throat gag only allowed a gurgle. Darkness surrounded her. After a few hours, Corrie could hear the roar of a crowd in the distance. Light streamed in from overhead suddenly and, as she looked up to see the source, a thin stream of urine poured down on her head. It was then she realized she had been chained in the bottom of a portable bathroom. She could now hear the soccer game outside and she realized it would be a long weekend. By the first evening, she had been buried up to her breasts in feces and urine. She knew she would soon be submerged in shit, unable to prevent it from entering her mouth. Already, despite the tubes in her nose, she could barely stand the smell around her. Her hair was covered with brown waste, her head draped with a piece of used toilet paper. The stadium had apparently closed in early evening. The sounds of the crowd receded and she was left in darkness. The waste now covered her to her neck. Corrie was defeated. She truly felt worthless as she kneeled in the bottom of the toilet. She knew in several hours she would be completely covered in other people's feces, and she will have lost all identity as an individual. Corrie had been cleaned thoroughly by the other slaves, her body scrubbed hard to ensure she would not be offensive to any guests or the master. She did not fight, nor object at all. Corrie had reached the depths of humiliation. Just hours ago, after spending her second day in the same portable toilet, she had been buried beneath human feces. Only the breathing tubes that remained unblocked allowed her to breath. Her mouth, held open wide by the rubber wedges and her throat blocked open, was quickly filled as well. Corrie had been forced to swallow a lot of the shit around her. By the time her master's slaves had pulled her out, she had truly become a toilet slave. Now, as she kneeled at her master's feet again, she kept her head bowed. She was sure she would have to prove her dedication as a toilet slave soon. She was not disappointed. One of her fellow slave girls, a young girl of 16 years, was stretched across a hobby horse as a guest fucked her up the ass. The girl, obviously not enjoying the penetration, was trying to scream, but another man kept her mouth filled with his huge cock. Finally, the first man came deep into the slave's ass and pulled out. Corrie's master pulled her up and made her kneel behind the young slave. "Suck the cum out of her ass, slave." Corrie knew better than to hesitate as she planted her mouth firmly on the girl's asshole and began sucking the man's cum out. Her master whispered quietly in the young slave's ear and, as Corrie penetrated the girls asshole with her tongue, she could feel a piece of feces being forced out. Corrie sucked harder, pulling the soft lump from the girl and swallowing it. Her master smiled. Corrie's two months where nearly up, though she was unaware of the time. She had spent the past three weeks on a steady diet of shit and urine, never allowed to consume anything else. Even the lowliest slave was allowed to use her as a toilet, pissing in her mouth as she drank without hesitation. During the day, with her arms still bound up high on her back, she was responsible for cleaning the floors and toilets in the bathroom with her tongue. She licked the stains out of the bowls, cleaning the inside and outside until spotless, swallowing any debris she might find. At times, the guests would avoid flushing the toilets. Corrie knew, when she found one like this, that she was to eat and drink any contents. The few times guests or slaves where allowed to use a real toilet, Corrie was kept close to act as toilet paper. On her last day, Corrie was led into the living room where she saw two familiar faces. The owner of the escort company and Cindy sat on the couch. Both looked surprised as they recognized Corrie. The innocent young girl from the Midwest was gone. Instead, they saw a blonde girl, walking in ballet shoes, with harsh rings pierced through her clit, nose and twice through her nipples. As she turned to kneel at her master's feet, they could see the brutal method her arms had been forced up her back, then riveted to the back of her steel collar. Cindy could not believe her friend was in this body of a slave. As Corrie fell to her knees with practiced ease and her chain leash was locked to a ring in the floor, her master addressed her for the first time in a month. "Corrie, you have been an amazing slave the past two months." "Thank you, master." "You have earned your $200,000. But I have a better offer. If you chose to stay for a complete year, I will pay you one million dollars. In truth, I will pay half to a trust fund now, with the other half held in escrow until the final date of your servitude." Corrie was having trouble hearing her master. She was his toilet slave and couldn't understand the discussion of money. "I don't understand, master. Have I displeased you?" "No, Corrie. You where everything I could dream of. But I want to keep you for a year." She still didn't get it so Cindy tried to explain. "Corrie? It's me, Cindy. He wants to keep you as a slave. But you don't have to do it. We will take you away for a few days to recover anyway, so you can make your decision later." A slave girl appeared to help Corrie out of the room. She looked back in confusion, unsure of what was happening. Two days had passed for Corrie. At home again, she found it strangely surreal to be without her piercings. She had the use of her arms for the first time in two months. She found herself wearing her highest heels day and night. She was not comfortable. Her priorities seemed to have changed now that she had enough money to do anything she wanted. Cindy tried to be of help, but could only provide a distraction from Corrie's thoughts. She had recovered from the mindset she had fell into. Though she refused to discuss her experience, she knew that she had been used and tortured mercilessly. Despite her fear of what had been done to her, she knew she would still consider the offer her "master" had made. End part 2
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