“Well, it's obvious how you got the job, isn't it? The only question is which one of the bosses you screwed. Which one, all of them more likely. I bet your interview consisted of you, down on your knees, giving each and every one of them blow jobs.” Karen sneered in her usual bitchy fashion.

“Oh, grow up, Karen. I got the job on my merits. I got promotion, you didn't, get over it.” I replied. Ever since I'd been promoted Karen had been bitter. Right up until the last moment she'd been sure the job was hers and was very resentful about being passed over. Now that I was the supervisor she, and her little clique, her supporters club, were my biggest headache. Most of the team were fine but Karen and her friends just went out of their way to make my life as awkward as possible. Well, I guess that's what I got the extra pay for.

The irony is that if she wasn't such a bitch I could really like Karen. She's really pretty with long raven hair and dark oriental looks and, although I'm no lesbian or anything like that, there's something about her that really gets to me.

If it had stayed like that I guess I could have handled it but then, that weekend, it all changed and my life will never, ever, be the same again.

---

I like keeping fit and, if I'm not swimming down at the local baths, then I'm out walking in the hills. I love it out there, it's real wilderness country and with a little walking you can get right away from all the stresses and strains of modern life. On the Saturday of the long weekend in question it was one of those bright days in late spring when the whole world seems as if it's been made afresh. I got up before the sun, loaded my car and set off. After a two hour drive though the winding mountain roads, I had finally arrived at my favourite spot,  I'd parked, doubled checked my backpack for food and water and headed off into the hills, keen to get away, to lose the crowds, to find the peace and solitude that refreshed me.

I'd gone maybe four miles when I got to a bit where the trail winds through some broken rocks and I was  busy picking my way through when, as if by magic, Karen came out from behind a boulder and stood blocking the path.

“Karen, what on earth... What are you doing here?” I gasped in amazement.

“Waiting for you. We've had just about enough of being bossed around by a whore like you and today that's going to change. Ok guys, come on out.”

Suddenly I was surrounded. Karen had picked the perfect place for an ambush and I'd walked right into it. I looked around; all the mob from work were there, Randy, Bob, Mel, Kelly and Steve, all Karen's special friends.

“Right, you fuck cunt.” Karen walked up until she was inches away, grabbed me by the face and stared into my eyes. “We know you didn't get that job on merit, you must have sucked every cock you could get you hands on. Whored your way to the top. Well, that's all going to change; you can keep the job but from now on your mine, you're my bitch, you, and that pathetic body of yours belong to me.”

“Please, Karen, this isn’t the time or the place, be reasonable. You know I got that job fair and square.” I was getting really scared.

“Fair and square. That job was mine, and you stole it from me and now you’re using your authority to get back at me.” Karen’s resentment was clearly distorting her perspective.

“Please, Karen, you know it’s not like that. Can’t we talk about this, sort something out?”

“There’s only one thing I’m going to sort out with you, fuck cunt. Ok guys, you know what to do.”

Six pairs of hands grabbed me, dragged me a little way up the trail to a clearing and started to strip me. I fought and yelled and screamed but it was six to one and I had no chance. As for the screaming, out there in the middle of nowhere I should have saved my breath; the very reason I had gone there in the first place was to get away from people and now I’d got my wish and there was no one about to rescue me. My boots and jeans were first to go, shortly followed by my sweatshirt which left me in my bra and panties, still struggling wildly. Karen reached to her hip and produced a hunting knife; now I really was scared, it's nine inch blade glinted in the sunlight and it was obviously razor sharp.

“Come on, whore, let's see those tits.” Karen slid the knife under my bra between my breasts and, with a quick flick of her wrist cut it in two. Then I felt the knife against my hip, another flick of the wrist and the flimsy material of my panties gave way. Eager hands tugged the scraps of material from me and I was naked.

“That's more like it, our little fuck cunt to use however we want, whenever we want. Now who's going first? Randy, you’ve been banging on about how much you want to fuck her ass, well, now’s your chance. Over that rock there will do.”

I was crying, pleading, promising anything as kicking and screaming I was dragged to a rock which stood about waist high. Grasping hands forced me over it, my breasts and stomach scraping across the rough surface. I was nearly incoherent as I  pleaded for them to stop, calling to Karen in particular, but no one paid me any heed. As Randy came up behind me I managed to free one leg and kicked out blindly but it did no good, I was soon restrained again and was rewarded for my pains with a vicious smack across the buttocks.

“Lie still and take it like the filthy whore you are.” Karen snarled. “Get on with it Randy, we haven't got all day.”

The next thing I knew was Randy's bulk leaning against me, his prick against my anus, I'm too tight, he's too big, it will never fit, until, with a searing bolt of pain he broke through and pushed inside me. Grunting like an animal Randy pushed again and again as he forced his way in, each thrust making me feel like my arse would tear open. There was no pleading now, merely screams of agony as he pounded away harder, faster, stronger, until, with a bull like roar, he came, pumping his semen in great gobs deep inside my arse. Finished at last he withdrew and they let me slide to the ground where I lay sobbing as the spent semen leaked from me.

“Looks like lunchtime to me. Tie her up and we can relax. Did anyone bring some  beers.” Karen produced some tent pegs and under her direction I was staked out, face up, spread-eagled on the ground. A couple of cold boxes were retrieved from where they had been hiding and they settled down to lunch.

It was a bizarre situation, I was bound, naked, exposed, humiliated whilst all around me my captors were eating lunch as if nothing unusual had happened. Karen was pointedly ignoring me and seemed determined to get as many beers down her as possible. Randy was full of himself, playing up to his ‘king of the castle – I’ve already had mine’ status whilst the others seemed keen follow Karen’s lead and act as this were a normal picnic although I did catch Kelly giving me some curious looks from time to time.

And then it started, just a feint tickle at first, somewhere round about the back of my knee but a feint tickle was all it took; I knew I had some kind of bug, an ant maybe, crawling up my leg. I have a bit of a thing about bugs and, as it moved from my knee to my thigh, it felt enormous. I tried to wriggle about so as to dislodge it but only succeeded in attracting the attention of Kelly. She came over and crouched down next to me.

“What’s up, fuck cunt?” she asked. “Are you trying to escape?”

“Please, Kelly, there’s a bug on my leg. Could you brush it off please.” I replied. Kelly glanced down.

“Oh yeah, there it is.” She made no attempt to move it. “Looks like it’s heading north, heading for that cunt of yours. Let’s make it easier for the poor little thing.

Kelly reached down for my groin and spread my lips with her fingers and my little secret was no secret any more.

“Why you’re… you’re all moist… you’re getting off on all this aren’t you?” The surprise and disgust in her voice was clear. She plunged two fingers inside me and found no resistance.

“Hey guys,” she called out, “you’ll never guess, fuck cunt’s all horny, she’s loving every minute of this. Her cunt’s dripping wet, look.”

She pulled out her fingers and held them aloft covered with my juices which glistened in the sunshine. I just wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I had never felt so embarrassed in my life. Meanwhile my body, my disgusting traitor of a body, continued to betray me. Kelly pushed her fingers at my mouth and, when I tried to shy away, she grabbed my nose so I had to open my mouth and accept it. There was no denying it, her fingers were covered with my taste, the taste of my aroused body, my body which was turned on by abuse, both physical and verbal.

By now I was surrounded, the others, attracted by Kelly’s shouts, had gathered round to see what was up. Karen stood between my legs, hands on hips, staring down at me with a triumphant smile on her face.

“I knew it. I can always spot them. In the office it’s always Mrs Bossy Boots,  laying down the law, pushing us around like a tin pot general but once you get to see her real nature, once you get to see what she’s really like, then you can see that she’s driven by that dripping cunt of hers. She’ll do anything, anything at all and all we need to do is train her. Isn’t that so, fuck cunt?”

I didn’t reply, I couldn’t reply. How could I explain my nature when I didn’t fully understand it myself. Would I really willingly put myself through the pain and humiliation that Karen was proposing, of course not, but it couldn’t be denied that it did thrill me, that every slight, every put down, every hurt both emotional and physical, was accompanied by a thrill that went straight to my centre, and as I lay there, spread-eagled on the ground with Randy’s come still trickling from my bottom, forced to take whatever abuse they wished to put on me, I felt more alive than I had ever felt.

“Not very talkative, eh?” Karen chuckled. “I’ve know just the thing to change that.”

She disappeared for a while and when she returned she was trimming the leaves off a birch branch until she had a length of around two feet tapering down from about the width of my thumb. She swished it through the air experimentally a few times and it demonstrated all the reasons why birch has been historically associated with whippings.

“Birches are traditionally applied in bundles,” Karen said kneeling down beside me, “but just one can be quite effective and it’s so handy having a limitless supply out here. Now then, what was the question again? Oh, yes, fuck cunt, you’re going to do anything we ask and willingly aren’t you?”

“No, I could never agree to that.” I replied.

“Wrong answer!” Karen slashed the birch across my breasts leaving  a line of fire. “Now, let’s try again. Are you going to agree willingly?”

“Please, I…” I tried through the sobs. Almost immediately the birch slashed down again.

“Please, I” Karen mocked. “What sort of answer is that. Now, we’re going to keep on trying until you get it right. Are you going to agree willingly?”

“Yes, yes, anything.” Anything to stop her hitting me again.

“That’s better, but still not right. I wonder if you can guess what was missing.” Karen waved the birch menacingly above me. “Well, fuck cunt?”

I didn’t know what to say, I had just agreed to do anything she wanted, what more could I give. I just lay there, literally lost for words, terrified a not knowing what she wanted me to say.

“You call me Mistress Karen!” Again the birch slashed across me. “From now on you will refer to any of us as Mistress or Master and you will refer to your self as fuck cunt. Have you got it this time?”

This was all to much, to have to agree to anything, to have to refer to myself using those awful words, word I never would use otherwise, and to have to call Karen Mistress, I simply couldn’t. Slash, slash, the birch struck again and I writhed in agony, straining against the ropes that held me.

“That’s for keeping me waiting.” Karen snarled.

“Yes, Mistress Karen, I understand.” I had to force the words out through the sobs, fighting the pain and the last shreds of my pride. “I… er, fuck cunt will do anything you ask.”

“That’s better, that’s a good little fuck cunt. From now on, believe me, you will do anything I tell you to.” Karen looked down at me and suddenly, quick as a rattlesnake, slashed the birch across my groin so that the tip landed just where I was most sensitive.

“Do you know why I did that?” She asked once I had stopped screaming and was merely crying.

“No, Mistress Karen.” I squeezed out between the sobs.

“Because I could.” The triumphal look on her face said everything.

You disgusting whore.” Karen snickered. “I think it’s time you started your training. I know you got the job by sucking the bosses’ pricks. Now you’re going to show us just what a good cock sucker you are. Let’s have you on your knees.”

The tent pegs were removed, I was rolled over onto my stomach and my wrists fastened behind my back. Hands reached for my shoulders and I was wrenched me to my knees.

“Well, boys, who’s first. Randy’s already had her ass so who’s it to be, Bob? Steve?”

“Steve… You go… I’ll…” Bob stuttered.

“What’s up, Bob? Losing your nerve?” Karen jeered.

“No, of course not. It’s just that…” Bob replied.

“Oh, stop whining and get your pants down.” Karen demanded impatiently.

Bob undid his belt, slid his jeans down and sat down on a handy rock. Karen, using the birch, herded me across the clearing, tears still running down my cheeks, until I was in front of him.

“Go on, fuck cunt, gobble, gobble.” Karen reinforced her command with a slash of the birch across my shoulders and, keen to avoid further pain, I leant forward and took Bob’s prick in my mouth. There was no place for subtlety and, egged on by the others who crowded round, Bob was thrusting his prick in and out so hard that I was nearly gagging. Any perceived slacking on my part was swiftly dealt with by Karen and her birch and in no time I could sense that Bob was on the edge. His legs tensed, he groaned out loud, his prick was thrust to the back of my throat and my mouth filled with his sperm. It was shock more than anything but my stomach convulsed and I felt as if I would vomit if I didn't spit it out immediately.

“Swallow, cunt, swallow.” Karen snarled and, fighting against both my stomach and my sobs, I managed to swallow the thick salty juice. However, no sooner had I done so than Bob was pushed away from in front of me and Steve took his place. I’m no expert on penises, I haven’t had that many lovers, but Steve's was bigger, fatter, and longer than any I’d seen before and he had none of Bob’s reticence about what he was doing. He grabbed my hair, forcing my face forward as he thrust himself into my mouth causing me to gag. I lost all sense of time; my entire world was my mouth, the prick which filled it, and my churning, protesting stomach. Fortunately he had little more staying power than Bob and it wasn’t long before, once again, great gobs of sperm were being pumped down my throat. This time I couldn’t help it, my stomach rebelled and I vomited uncontrollably spraying Steve with filth all the while.

“You whore, you filthy disgusting whore! Look what you’ve done to me!” Steve was furious; his fist lashed out and knocked me to the ground.

“Calm down,” Karen laughed. “You’ll have plenty of time to get your own back later. Meanwhile it looks like we need to get you and fuck cunt down to the river to wash off. You smell pretty vile and I'm not hanging around. Bob, pack up the picnic, I don’t think anyone has any appetite left after cunt fuck’s little display.”

Bob scuttled round packing up the coolers whilst Steve, muttering darkly, shucked off his jeans and boxers. Karen tugged me to my feet and had me slip into my shoes. However the laces were left untied and they were so loose I could only hobble at best. As the party made its way down to the river Karen used the birch to drive me like some sort of cattle. I noticed that Kelly had picked a similar branch and was busy stripping off the leaves so that she could join in.

“Does she really get off on this?” Kelly asked Karen as she fell in beside her. “She’ll be our slave and agree to it?”

“You’re the one that had your fingers poked up her cunt; was she dripping or what?” Karen replied.

“Yeah, dripping. But I just don’t get it. How could she…”

“Because, despite the little prig she comes across as in the office, in reality she’s a submissive slut. Some women are just so depraved that they get off on being abused and who are we to deprive her of her pleasure. That’s the beauty of it; she’s our obedient little slave and however harshly we treat her she’ll keep coming back for more. Isn’t that right, fuck cunt?” Karen’s birch slashed across the back of my thighs to emphasize her point.

Fortunately for me, before I could answer, we rounded a corner and the river was before us. Steve was sitting on a boulder with his feet dangling in the water as he washed himself off but when he saw us he stood up.

“Come here, bitch!” He snarled and I hobbled over as fast as my loose boots would allow.

“Look what you’ve done to my jeans.” He picked his jeans up off the rock next to him and smeared the vomit sodden material in my face and on my breasts. “Now take them into the river and wash them off.”

“But… But…” I stammered. “I can’t, my hands are tied.”

Immediately the birch slashed across my buttocks.

“Are you dense or something?” Karen shouted at me. “Firstly you will address Master Steve (slash) properly; secondly, (slash) you will refer to yourself as 'fuck cunt' and (slash) finally, when you’re given an order, (slash) you will obey it. (slash). Now pick those jeans up with your teeth (slash) and do as Master Steve told you to (slash)”

Taking the vomit soaked jeans in my mouth I waded out into the river. I knelt down and bobbing my head in and out of the water, let the current wash the vomit off the denim material. The water was ice melt and freezing but at least that soothed the burning flesh of my buttocks, breasts and upper thighs. Additionally, once the jeans had cleaned off a bit, I was able to swallow some of the river water and wash my mouth out. After a minute or so I stood up and waded back to the shore still holding the sodden jeans in my teeth only to return this time with Master Steve’s boxers. My legs were numb for the cold water and I could not hold back the tears. When I returned again I knelt down and laid the boxer out on a rock to dry. Master Steve had been sorting through his pack and was now wearing a pair of jogging bottoms. With no orders to the contrary I stayed on my knees, the long tresses of my sodden hair falling down around my face, my whole body shaking with a mixture of cold and sobbing.

“Not so proud now, is she?” Kelly, of all the crowd, seemed to be the most intrigued and had walked over to stand in front of me. “Kiss my boots, fuck cunt.”

Not wishing for any more birching with a sob I leant forward and kissed the toe of her hiking boot.

“Does that make you hot? Does that turn little fuck cunt on?” She sneered.

“Please, Mistress Kelly, it... it...” How could I explain? How could I tell this woman that was taking such obvious pleasure from tormenting me how conflicted I was? How, even now, broken, contrite, and frozen to the marrow, my hatred of all that was being done to me was balanced by an excited thrill between my thighs.

“Come on, answer me. Does kissing my boots turn you on?” There was an air of impatience; I had to answer something, something that she would accept.

“Yes, Mistress.” I said at last. “Yes, it turns fuck cunt on.”

With the laughter of the group echoing round me I knew my humiliation was complete, my soul was laid bare to the people I could least afford it to be.

“And what about you, Kelly, does having fuck cunt groveling at your feet make you hot?” Karen enquired.

“Well… err… yeah, it does actually.” Kelly admitted.

“So why stop there. Get her to lick out your asshole.” Karen urged.

I could see how Karen was egging Kelly on and, like the eager puppy she was, Kelly took the suggestion with enthusiasm and was soon busy taking off her jeans and panties. When she was down to just her tee shirt she turned round and, resting her hands on a boulder, bent over, parting her legs.

“Go on, fuck cunt, kiss my ass, and kiss it good.”

I shuffled forwards on my knees and gingerly pressed my pursed lips to her buttocks.

“Not like that!” Karen snarled. Once again the birch slashed across my shoulders. “Get your face in her crack and kiss her butt hole and use your tongue while you’re about it.”

The tears welled up within me again but, unless I was going to take more punishment, I would have to do as I was told. I pushed my face into the crease between Kelly’s buttocks and pushed out my tongue searching for the puckered ring of her anus. Trying to strike a balance between my distaste for what I was doing and my fear of further reprisals, I licked around the general area.

“God, she’s doing it, that’s fantastic. Go on, fuck cunt, harder, push it right in. Oh, yes!” She continued as, fighting the urge to vomit again, I complied. “What sort of sick cunt do you have to be to do that?”

It didn’t take long, however, before Kelly tired of this, stood up and turned around. I bowed my head but she reached down and, grabbing my chin, pulled my face up.

“You’re a sick fuck cunt, do you know that? What are you?”

“I’m a sick fuck cunt, Mistress Kelly.” I replied scared of the reprisals that any other answer would produce.

“I bet a whore like you would like to lick her pussy now.”  Karen urged.

“I… I… Yes, please Mistress Karen.” Again acquiescence was easier than rebellion.

“Ask properly.”

“Please, Mistress Kelly, may fuck cunt lick your pussy?” I bit back the bile caused by having to speak these words.

Kelly grabbed my hair and pulled my head towards her groin but she was stopped by Karen.

“Not like that, sit on her face. There's no need for the tent pegs; we’ll hold her down.”  Karen interceded. My wrists were freed and I was pulled to the ground spread-eagled once again. Kelly knelt across my shoulders pinning me down and positioning her pussy right over my mouth. Tentatively I pushed my tongue out, reaching for her pussy lips and, in response, she slid forward forcing herself on me. I really had no idea what was expected of me. Sure, a couple of boyfriends had kissed me ‘down there’ but they had had no more idea about what to do than I had. Tentatively I poked my tongue out, parting her pussy lips and probing around inside. I tried to think about what I would like done to me if the roles were reversed but I couldn’t think clearly and compromised with searching out her clit and rubbing my tongue against it.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t see much because Kelly was blocking the view but I could feel my legs being held wide open and fingers poking at my pussy. With Kelly’s thighs either side of my head blocking my ears my hearing was limited as well but I could hear Karen urging someone on and then my legs were lifted, I felt someone’s bulk between them, and then a prick being forced inside me. Despite the cold dip in the river, despite the abuse both before and after, my body betrayed me again and whomever it was slid inside with barely a hint of resistance. Then I knew who it was and I was glad that I was aroused as the bulk of Steve’s prick filled me to capacity and beyond. He was evidently still furious about me vomiting on him as he was pounding himself into me, ramming so hard that it felt like he would spit me asunder.

I tried to concentrate on serving Kelly, she had slipped forward pushing herself down on me which made breathing difficult, but Steve’s prick hammering into me couldn’t be ignored, nor could the way that this brutality made my juices flow. Fortunately Kelly was either easily aroused or, more likely, wished to play up to Karen and was rubbing herself against me, probably doing more to stimulate herself than my tongue could have. Her dance on my face built to a crescendo along with the pounding my pussy was taking but it was Steve who came first, roaring like some sort of wild animal and collapsing forward nearly knocking Kelly of her perch.

Kelly was aware that she was now the centre of attention so she started screaming at me as she reached her peak. String after string of foul epithets poured from her as I was called cunt, slag, whore, bitch, cow, until she peaked and with a long sibilant YES! slumped forward, apparently satisfied.

“Well, does anyone else want a go?” Karen asked as Kelly got off me and went to the river to wash her groin. “How about you, Bob? Fancy a bit of fuck cunt’s pussy?”

“I… I had my bit back at the lunch point.” Bob replied.

“That didn’t stop Steve, did it?” Karen replied. “If he can get it up twice in quick succession why can’t you? I do hope you’re not going chicken on me.”

“No, of course not.” Bob replied.

“Well, get your pants down and get stuck in then.”

Bob, like the rest of them, was scared of Karen so he knelt between my legs and unfastened his belt. As he dropped his jeans and his boxers I couldn’t help but look. His prick was pretty flaccid but he was pumping it with his wrist and it wasn’t going to be like that long. Once he’d got it hard enough he reached down and opened up my pussy lips before flopping down on top of me and pushing his way in.

After Steve’s monster having Bob inside me was just another indignity that I was forced to go through. Far worse than his prick was his beery breath and his sweaty bulk pushing down on me. Whereas Steve had been all about ramming his dick into me as hard and as fast as possible Bob seemed to want to make more of it and his hands reached for my breasts and started mauling them.

Bob may have been flaccid when he started but raping me was obviously a turn on for him and his hips were thrashing back and forth as he fucked me with all the grace of a hippopotamus. He even seemed to want to kiss me but I turned my head in disgust and he ended up licking my ear. Evidently that added to the experience for him as only moments later his thrashing reached a climax and he drove himself into me, squirting his sperm inside me to join Steve’s.

Panting he collapsed in a heap on top of me, his head next to mine. Between the gasps I heard a whisper.

“Debbie, don’t worry, I’m a friend, I’ll get you out of this.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I knew well enough that Bob was one of Karen’s cronies at work, I’d just suffered his pathetic rape and now he was saying he was my friend. Somehow I couldn’t see this slug as my knight in shining armor.

“Come on, you’ve had your turn, let me at her.” Randy’s impatient tone showed that my ordeal was far from over.

Randy had had longer to recover than either Steve or Bob and watching the others have their way with me must have turned him on because as soon as the dropped his jeans his prick stood out hard and firm. He took his turn kneeling between my thighs, playing with himself as he gazed down at my crotch, a lascivious look in his eyes.

“Are you going to take all day? Why don’t you stop playing with yourself and shove it in her?” Kelly sneered, emboldened by what she saw as her status as Karen’s second in command.

“Shut up, bitch, or I’ll ram it in you instead. I’m just taking my time in deciding, cunt or arse. What do you think, fuck cunt, which of your fuck holes should I use this time?”

I was at a loss for words, I simply didn’t know how to answer him but, out of the corner of my eye I saw Karen flexing her birch. She raised her arm and…

“Please, Master Randy, please would you fuck my cunt.” I could hardly believe what I was saying, inviting him to abuse me but I really didn’t want any more of the birch and, of the two options, my pussy was the least sore.

“Listen to her, begging me to fuck her cunt. Now who am I to ignore the wishes of a lady?” He reached down, spread my pussy lips wide and plunged in. Randy wasn’t as well built as Steve, nor as clumsy as Bob but he was rough enough and my pussy was sore from all the abuse so each stroke burned and as the tempo built, I couldn’t stop little whimpers of pain escaping.

“What’s up, fuck cunt, don’t you like my prick in your cunt?” Randy asked.

“Please, Master Randy…” Again I was caught in a dilemma. If I answered truthfully then I was inviting more punishment, if I gave the answer they wanted I was playing along as their willing slave. I compromised with “You’re hurting fuck cunt, Master Randy.”

“Yeah, but that’s what a whore like you wants, isn’t it? That’s why you’re cunt’s so juicy.” He returned, giving an extra shove.

“I… I…” My mind whirled because, to my horror and shame, the abuse, the hurt, the degradation had got to me and I could feel myself beginning to climax. It wasn’t just the pounding my pussy was getting, it was the ill-treatment; every time Randy called me a cunt, a whore, a slag, something inside me responded and, much as I despised myself for feeling this way, this was the most intense erotic experience I had ever had. I could feel my control slipping away, I was lost in the maelstrom of the battering, and my body, my traitorous body, tensed as the conflicting emotions rocked through it. I tried to fight it, to hide it, but in doing so I just made it worse until the tension broke and a tsunami of pain and pleasure washed through me. Maybe it was the way that my pussy muscles went into spasm but Randy responded with a roar and the two of us climaxed together.

Randy got off me and came round and knelt next to my head.

“Your cunt juice is all over my prick. Lick it of, fuck cunt.” I was too dazed to disobey. After what I’d been through licking his flaccid prick was nothing and it gave me time to collect my thoughts.

“Well, who’d have thought it?” Randy laughed. “The little bitch does get off on all this. I never thought she’d come.”

“Did she? Did she really?” Kelly, as ever was intrigued.

“Yeah, mind you, any woman I fuck knows all about it.” Randy boasted. “Cunt or arse, I’ll make ‘em come.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Karen replied. “This little fuck cunt is ruled by her pussy. Making her come is a piece of cake, keeping her on edge, that’s the skillful part. All we have to do is keep her gagging for it and she’s ours to do as we want. Now come along, it’s time to get on the trail. I want to get to the cabin well before it gets dark and there’s still quite a way to go.”

I lay on the ground too exhausted to move. I was still held but they needn’t have bothered; physically and mentally I was completely drained and any fight or resistance I might have had was long gone. My back, my buttocks, my thighs and my breasts stung from the multiple blows Karen had dealt me, my arse and pussy were red raw from the battering they had taken, my hair, a sodden mess from when I had been in the river, had been ground into the dirt and was matted and tangled and I could feel the spent semen from three different men seeping from me. God help me if any of them had made me pregnant, how could I ever tell who the father was. And the worst of it was that there was inevitably more to come. I had the whole weekend in front of me. Who knows what torments they had planned for when we reached this cabin, wherever it was? Unbidden tear welled up once again as I lay waiting for whatever came next.

Around me the group gathered their bits and pieces as they got ready to get back on the trail. Kelly went to put on her jeans but Karen persuaded her that she ‘looked better like that’ and that ‘it’s good to let the air circulate’ so she remained in just her tee shirt and panties and packed her jeans in her bag. Even in my exhausted state I could see the way in which Karen was playing with Kelly, and how Kelly was so keen to suck up to Karen that she was open to practically any suggestion.

As for me, my wrists were refastened and I was dragged to my feet. Steve produced a length of rope from his pack and it was tied round my waist. Whilst the rope had little practical purpose, with my wrists bound and my feet hobbled by the lose shoes I wasn’t about to escape easily, it reinforced my position as a captured slave, a slave that was led along like some sort of wild animal.

It may sound petty given my circumstances but, as we traipsed along the trail, far more than my freedom I would have given anything for a shower or even the chance to wash myself off in the freezing water of the river. I had still been wet when I was forced to the ground and my body was covered in dirt and mud and, between my thighs, the combined semen of my three rapists continued to seep from my vagina drying to a sticky mess as it dribbled down my legs. My hair was also going to be a problem. I wear it quite long, hanging down to the middle of my back. The combination of the dip in the river and being held down in the dirt afterwards had left it matted beyond belief. I badly needed a wash and a bottle of hair conditioner but it didn’t look like that was coming anytime soon.

All in all, we must have looked quite a sight as we set off down the trail. Steve and Randy were out front with Steve pulling on the rope that held me. Then it was me, hobbling along as fast as I could, fighting to maintain their pace and not lose either my shoes or my balance. Behind me followed Karen and her pet poodle, Kelly, each ready with their birch to swiftly punish any perceived slacking on my part. Behind them was Mel, walking by herself as usual and finally there was Bob, puffing and panting, bringing up the rear carrying far more than his fair share of the baggage.

As we walked I tried to get a handle on the group. Karen’s leadership was obvious; none of the others did anything without her say so. Steve and Randy were simply joining in for all the sex they could get, this was some perverse orgy as far as they were concerned. Kelly and Bob were so weak that they were enthralled by Karen and would do anything she told them to. This left Mel, quiet and withdrawn, the outsider. She was the youngest of the group and her petite pretty little girl looks gave her an air of sweet innocence but I could see this was only a front.  Apart from Karen she was the only one not to have used me so far and I didn’t see this as a sign of weakness, rather it was a sign that, like Karen, she didn’t feel the need to prove herself and, like Karen, for her this was something more than some sexy game to play with the boss. From time to time I had caught her looking at me with a cold, calculating look which chilled me to the bone.

We’d gone maybe two miles when we got to a bit where the trail crossed a track used by the loggers to remove the cut timber. The heavy vehicles had churned up the ground and left a patch of four feet or so of sticky mud and filthy puddles. Steve and Randy were picking their way through and maybe half way across when Randy called out.

“Allow me, ladies, have yourselves a stepping stone.” A sharp tug on the rope and I tripped, falling forward into the mud. Randy held out his hand to help them balance as they crossed.

“Why, thank you Master Randy, you’re too kind.” Karen replied putting on her best Southern Belle accent and, putting her foot firmly on my buttocks, stepped across the puddle. As she did so I was pushed deeper into the mud and I could feel the ooze seeping deep into my crotch. Kelly, as ever one step behind like a good little lapdog, followed and, once again, I was forced deeper into the slime. And then there was Mel, sweet little Mel who, not content with just using me as a stepping stone, stopped with one foot on my buttocks and placed the other foot between my shoulder blades and pushed, forcing my head beneath the muddy water. She held me there for maybe thirty seconds before letting me up again but I had barely enough time to get me breath before she reapplied the pressure. This time she held me there until I felt as if my lungs would burst before finally stepping off and letting me up.

Randy tugged on the rope, pulling me up, out of the puddle and I was half way out before Karen noticed my feet.

“Hey, fuck cunt, where are your shoes?” With a sinking heart I realised that they had come off. 

“Go on.” She continued. “Get back in there and retrieve them.

With my wrists bound behind my back there was only one way I was going to be able to obey and I could see that Karen knew this. Still on my knees I shuffled round to face where my feet had been. Time and time again, like some bizarre game of bobbing for apples, I plunged my face into the churned up mud until I found them. Hauling them out, one at a time with my teeth, I placed them next to the puddle before finally standing up and getting out myself. As I slipped my feet back into the sodden shoes I could feel that they too were full of mud, indeed, from head to toe, I could not have been more comprehensively covered. The mud had got everywhere, in my mouth, my nose, and I could  feel it deep inside the folds of my pussy. A huge wave of self pity overwhelmed me and, once again, I was racked by sobs as I cried uncontrollably.

“Shut it, fuck cunt.” The birch slashed across my buttocks. “Get moving, we haven’t got all day.”

The trail plunged back into the woods and, however I felt, however disgusting my condition, I had no choice but to follow where the rope pulled me. We had gone two miles or so further when Bob, struggling along at the rear, called out for a rest. You only had to look at his beer belly to know that he was not one for exercise; he was sweating like  a pig and finding it heavy going. As the day wore on the sun was beating down and, even under the shade of the trees, it was getting distinctly warm. Reluctantly Karen agreed to a halt and, finding a suitable area with lots of boulders to sit on, they settled down and Bob searched in the picnic coolers for some beers. I leant back against a rock, grateful to have some of the weight taken off my feet but no sooner than my buttock had touched the boulder than Karen saw me and snarled at me to go over and kneel at her feet.

“Hey, look at fuck cunt’s face!” Kelly blurted out. The others looked but didn’t reply.

“It’s like that song,” Kelly continued, “you know, Smokey Robinson, Tracks of My Tears, look, you can see where she’s been crying.”

Karen reached down and wrenched my face upwards.

“Oh, yeah, so your can. Poor little fuck cunt, can’t stop crying. Wait till we get to the cabin, then we’ll give her something to cry about.”

She slapped my face away and I knelt before her listening to their laughter. My mouth was dry and I was desperate for a drink, apart from a few mouthfuls of water to wash the vomit from my mouth back in the river I hadn’t had anything since I had left the car, first thing that morning and,  kneeling there, watching them chug back bottles of ice cool beer was a torture in itself. However I already knew enough not to ask for one, the only thing I would get from that would be more abuse.

Minutes later we were back on the trail. We slogged on for maybe two more miles before we crested a rise and Karen pointed out a cabin in the valley below us. This was quite literally out in the middle of nowhere, far from any roads, far from any of the tourist spots, a lone cabin tucked in its own private valley. Heaven knows how Karen knew about it, I certainly wasn’t going to ask her, but, from her point of view it was the perfect place, there was simply no way we were going to be disturbed for the whole of the rest of the weekend.

As we got closer I could see that it was in a pretty bad state of disrepair; a more accurate description ought be shack, instead of cabin, but the basic structure appeared to be sound and there were a number of outhouses surrounding it. Furthermore an ATV parked round the back showed that, roads or not, there was some way to get wheeled vehicles there so, isolated or not, there was no reason to believe that they were going to run short of provisions.

When we arrived at the cabin the entire party collapsed exhausted. There were a number of easy chairs set out on the porch and Karen was quick to commandeer the best one, sitting in state surrounded by her courtiers whilst Bob, as ever, was ordered to organise the beers. I knelt down on the ground and waited.

As I knelt there I was acutely aware of the dried mud that covered my body. It was mostly dry now, a dark brown crust covering my skin, but the worst bit was my hair, my beautiful hair, which hung down in heavy matted clumps. Similarly my pubic bush which, in those days, I kept long and natural, was a congealed, matted clump, the dried mud sticking the hairs together, pulling at them, making me constantly aware of my state.

“Hey, fuck cunt.” Karen called down from the porch. Wearily I looked up. “Aren’t you glad we’re giving you all this attention?”

My jaw dropped, did she really expect me to be glad that they were mistreating me like this?

“Well, fuck cunt, what’s up? Has the cat got your tongue?” Karen continued. “Don’t you know it’s rude to keep your Mistress waiting for an answer?”

“Yes, Mistress, thank you for the attention.” I forced out.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Karen laughed. “I think it’s about time you spent some time in the woodshed, give you some time to think about things, to think about exactly where you stand in all this. Steve, give me hand, will you?”

Karen and Steve came down from the porch with the others following like sheep. Steve grabbed my arm and I was half led, half dragged to one of the sheds that surrounded the cabin. The shed was quite large, maybe the size of a double garage, and inside it was mostly clear. There were no windows but the planking was poor and had bits missing so there was plenty of light to see by. Right in the centre was a wooden sawhorse which stood around waist height but, unlike any sawhorses I had ever seen before, this one had thick leather straps attached. It didn’t take much imagination to see where I was going next.

“Welcome to your luxury suite, Madam.” Karen’s voice mocked that of a hotel porter.  “I do hope you’ll find your accommodation completely satisfactory. May I suggest a little lie down after your arduous journey?”

Steve bent me over to lie lengthways along the sawhorse. My ankles, my calves, my knees were attached to the widely splayed legs holding me similarly open. My wrists were unfastened from behind my back only to be refastened to the front legs of the horse. Four straps spaced along the length of the top of the horse held me firmly from my shoulders to my waist, crushing me against it and preventing any movement.

Whilst Steve was fastening the straps Kelly had wandered over to a bench that ran down one side of the shed. I watched in horror as she picked up and played with various whips, riding crops, straps and paddles. No one was going to be spoilt for choice should they decide to punish me. Then she picked up a bundle of straps with a dildo attached.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“God, you don’t know nothing, do you?” Mel sneered.

“It’s a strap-on.” Karen replied. “It gives us girls the chance to be the one shoving the dick in.”

“How do you…” Kelly seemed bemused by the complex arrangement of straps.

“Take your panties off and I’ll show you.” Karen replied.

That was all the urging Kelly needed. She slipped off her panties and Karen helped her into the harness.

“Wow, look at me, I’ve got a dick!” Kelly strutted about, wiggling her hips, the strap-on jutting before her.

“Well, aren’t you going to use it?” Karen asked.

“Yeah, go on Kelly, fuck the bitch. That’s what she’s there for.” Randy added.

Kelly came round behind me and I felt the tip of the dildo being pushed clumsily against my pussy. However the angle that the sawhorse held me at made it awkward and Kelly was too inept to get it right.

“Not that hole.” Karen urged. “Fuck her arse. Here, let me lube it up for you.”

Karen walked over to the bench and, moments later, I felt something cold and slimy being smeared around my anus. Then I felt the hard tip of the dildo pushing against my sphincter, pushing harder, intruding, sliding inside me.

“Wow, this is fantastic, it’s rubbing against my pussy as well.” Kelly squealed in delight as she slid the dildo back and forth inside me. “Now I know what it’s like to be the guy!”

“Use your hips more.” Randy urged. “Shove it right in, Show her who’s boss. That’s what they like, the meek and mild types, fuck ‘em till they scream. That’s my motto.”

Kelly, encouraged by the others, continued to thrust the dildo inside me. With each shove the sawhorse rocked and my pussy was ground against the rough wood, which rubbed against me in sensitive places. Although the dildo was stretching me wide Kelly didn’t have enough strength to be particularly brutal and her growing arousal was matched by mine. Furthermore, it wasn’t just the indignity of being analy raped that was getting to me, it was the fact it was being done by a woman. Somehow this touched something deep inside me, some part of me that I had never acknowledged before, some part that made the rape more of a turn on.

Before now I had never fully understood my submissive side. Sure I knew it existed and that my fantasies involved me being brutally mistreated but, now it was for real, I was finding that it was far more powerful than I had suspected. What was more, and somehow more deeply disturbing, was that being raped by a woman was incredibly thrilling and as Kelly thrust away it was that thought that was getting ever more aroused.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Kelly was panting and her thrusts were short and sharp. I could tell that she was rubbing herself against the other end of the strap-on with ever increasing intensity. She had pushed it deep inside me and the thrusts had become short jerks as she pushed her body against mine. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes…” She was near her climax, and I was approaching mine when…

“Oh yes, oh yes, oh JESUS!!!!” Kelly’s orgasm was accompanied by the resounding smack of leather against flesh as, just as she came, Karen slashed at her buttocks with one of the straps from the bench. She jerked against the blow forcing the dildo deeper inside me, jerked once or twice and then fell forward over me.

Panting and out of breath, Kelly withdrew leaving my arse feeling curiously empty. I hadn’t climaxed, I’d been close but Kelly had been concentrating on her own pleasure, not mine. I’m not sure she even realised that I’d been turned on although I’m sure Karen would have picked up on it. Still wearing the strap on Kelly came round into my line of sight rubbing her buttocks.

“What did you do that for?” She asked Karen. “Jesus, it really hurt.”

“Why did I do it? Because I could.” Karen replied. “Anyway, I’ll bet it gave your orgasm a certain little something, the icing on the cake, perhaps.”

“No it didn’t.” Kelly pouted. Even I could tell she was lying. “I’m not a pain slut like fuck cunt here.”

“Hmm…” was all Karen’s response. “Now come on, let’s get fuck cunt hooded up and get on with things. We’ve got plenty to sort out if we’re going to have our barbecue tonight.”

Karen fetched a leather hood from the bench and fitted it over my head. In the front it came down to about the level of my nose completely covering my eyes and, as the straps at the back of my head were fastened, the thick leather covered my ears deadening the sound. Unable to move, unable to see and with my hearing much reduced I felt open and vulnerable. I was held not as a prisoner but as a sex object, a toy to be used by whomever, whenever and there was nothing I could do to stop them, nothing I could do to fight back.

The final part of the jigsaw was a ball gag, attached to some sort of quick release harness. Karen demonstrated how it could be removed and refitted should any of the guys want to use my mouth.

I sensed, rather than heard, the others leave the shed. I was alone, all alone wide open and waiting, waiting to be used, to feel the prick or dildo forced in my anus or in my mouth, to feel the lash of the strap, the riding crop, the paddle across my wide open buttocks. Why then did my pussy tingle so? Why were my nipples on fire? What was I that I almost wanted this? What was I becoming? Where was all this going?

I slipped into a semi trace and waited, waited for whatever came next.

I have no idea whether if was five or fifty minutes before my first visitor. Because of the blindfold, because I was restrained, my senses seemed heightened and, even with the hood muffling the sound I could hear the creak as the shed door opened. I was acutely aware of my status, bent over the horse with my legs held wide open. There was nothing I could do, no way to protect myself, no way to stop whomever it was doing whatever they wanted and, somehow reassured by this I even relaxed as I waited.

There were one or two noises in the background and then harsh, masculine hands held my butt cheeks apart as more lubricant was pushed into my anus, closely followed by a prick pushing into me. A soft grunt as the ring of my sphincter was breached and the prick that slid inside me confirmed that my abuser was male. Bob? No, he hadn’t shown himself to be man enough; he’d be far more apologetic. Steve? No, his massive girth would have stretched me beyond endurance, lubricant or not. This had to be Randy, once again at the head of the queue, once again the first to get his kicks out of abusing my body.

Randy seemed to be taking his time, long slow strokes sliding back and forth, savouring the sensations rather than making the brutal attacks he had performed when playing to an audience and, despite a certain amount of discomfort, my bondage induced compliance meant that instead of fighting it I was relaxing into it. I knew as a certainty that I should despise being treated this way, that this blatant exploitation of my body, this use without consent, this rape, should appal me but my body played against this, I was held not just by the straps but also by urges deep within me, urges that told me I was a worthless slave and that to be treated like this was right and proper.

The sex was strangely impersonal; although I knew it was Randy who was using me it could have been anyone, not even a person, just an anonymous prick sliding back and forth with no thought to my pleasure, no thought as to how I felt at all. In my head I could imagine being held like that, hooded and bound, whilst total strangers used me, my anus no more than a suitable orifice whereby they got their release. This idea of a dystopian existence, of a soulless prostitution sent shivers through me, shivers that excited more than they appalled.

Meanwhile, physically, just as when Kelly has used me, the rocking back and forth was pressing my pussy into the top of the horse and I couldn’t help but respond. Whether I wished it or not I was powerless to stop myself and, as far as the straps allowed, I raised my buttocks, welcoming my attacker. It wasn’t much, I was very tightly held, but it was enough for Randy to spot.

“That’s right, bitch.” He snarled. “You’re loving every moment of this, aren’t you? Any bitch fucked by Randy can’t help herself. Tell me how you love it; tell me how you love having my prick rammed up your ass.”

I was so shocked by his arrogance that I couldn’t answer at first. I’d always known that Randy was full of himself but for him to believe that it was him, not my circumstances, that was turning me on, that it was his prick above all the other stimuli, that aroused me showed a staggering lack of awareness of what was going on. Back at the river Randy the despoiler, Randy the rapist, Randy the dominant had played to my proclivities and been part of my unbidden orgasm. Here his attempts to be the stud, albeit an unwelcome one, his belief that I would appreciate what he was doing, just made him pathetic and burst the bubble of my rising arousal. Karen might be cruel and vicious but at least she understood what drove me. Part of me rebelled, part of me wanted to tell him how pathetic he was, how misguided to think that any woman could worship someone as conceited, as smugly self satisfied as him.

“Well, bitch, cat got your tongue. Tell Master Randy how you like his prick up your ass or it will be all the worse for you.”

I tried to respond but the gag was too much and no more than muffled squawks escaped.

“I can’t hear you.” He sneered. “You had better try harder then.”

“Fuck you, you bastard, fuck you and your useless prick.” I screamed letting the gag mangle the words into a meaningless series of guttural sounds.

“That’s right, bitch. Tell me how much your love it.” Randy naturally assumed I was praising him and, in response, upped the tempo, urging himself on as much as me. Again and again he demanded that I tell him how much I wanted him and, each time, I responded with a torrent of abuse that he, in his arrogance, took to be praise. He started to pant with exertion and I could tell that the toll of the day was telling, there was an air of desperation as, with an almost frenetic burst of frantic pumping, he finally climaxed and again I felt the warm fluid of his sperm being pumped inside me.

Almost immediately he grew flaccid and withdrew. I could hear him panting and wheezing as he fumbled around, presumably cleaning himself off before I heard the door creak and I was alone again, waiting for the next visitor.

I must have drifted off for a while because I never heard the door and the next thing I knew was the sensation of nails, feminine nails, being dragged across my flesh. Once more I was playing the guessing game. Kelly? No, this was too subtle and, anyway, I didn’t believe that Kelly was capable of independent action. Karen? I doubted it; she seemed to be saving her attack up for later, later when my defences were even lower, and this anonymous teasing was not her style. That left Mel, sweet little innocent Mel, whose nails were reaching for my nipple, taking it squeezing it, crushing it, the pressure of the sharp nails digging into my sensitive flesh until…

Whereas my screams for Randy had been faked, a game to play to amuse myself as much as my attacker, there was nothing faked this time. Her nails dug into my flesh until I was sure she would draw blood; it felt as if she were trying to rip the nipple right off. When, at last she relented the respite was short before she turned her attention to the other nipple with equal ferocity. Any complacency I might have had was gone; Mel was determined to hurt me far, far, beyond what I could take and her pleasure seemed to entirely consist of seeing me in pain. She hadn’t removed the gag to hear me scream, nor was she taunting me, or indeed, talking to me in any way.

Once again she moved, this time to behind me and I felt her hand delving below me parting my lips reaching inside, reaching for my clitoris and…

If my nipple had been agony then there is simply no word to describe how my clitoris felt. This was worse, ten times worse and the pain just went on and on and on. Every muscle in my body strained against my bonds, every fibre within me screamed and screamed and screamed until, suddenly, with no rhyme, no reason, she just stopped. There was a pause of maybe five seconds before the next squeeze, the next onslaught, the next cacophony of pain tearing my body apart. I couldn’t take it but I had to take it, I had no choice, no escape, no release until, at last, she relented and let go. Sobbing, shaking exhausted I collapsed against my bonds willing the pain to subside. Mel came round and crouched down by my head.

“That’s just a taster, a taster for tomorrow. The others are just playing around, they don’t understand pain the way we do.  We’re going to have so much fun. Well, I am, I’m going to enjoy myself. I’m not quite so sure about you” And that was it, she was gone. I lay, unable to move, strapped to the horse, my clitoris and nipples three points of harsh red fire, and waited.

I almost knew by the clumsy way the door was opened that my next visitor was Bob. He came over and crouched down beside me.

“Debbie, Debbie, it’s me, Bob. Don’t worry. I’m coming to get you. I’ll set you free tonight, tonight when they’re all asleep.”

“Water.” I croaked, but of course it came out ‘ought-er’.

“What’s that?” Bob unfastened the gag. “What’s that, my love?”

“Water, please get me some water.” I gasped my mind reeling somewhat from being called ‘my love’.

“Of course, just wait here.” And he was gone, returning a few moments later with a water bottle. It was difficult to drink with me positioned the way I was but I managed to get a few mouthfuls before…

“What on earth are you doing?” Karen’s voice rang loud and clear, even with the hood on she was as clear as a bell.

“I… err… I came in for a blow job.” Bob, never a good liar, spluttered.

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” Karen replied. “Why are you giving her water?”

“She was thirsty. She asked for it.”

“The only thing that fuck cunt gets to drink is your sperm, is that quite clear?” Karen’s voice snapped back.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Bob replied, shaken.

“I think you’re going soft on her, that you’ve lost your nerve. Oh, sure, you were all for it back in the office, back in the office it’s all ‘yeah, let’s gang bang the bitch’ but now we’re here,  now it’s real, now we’ve got her where we want her it looks like cowardly little Bob hasn’t got the bottle to go through with it. You wouldn’t be having second thoughts, would you?”

“No, it’s not like that, not at all. I came in for a blow job, honest.”

“So get on with it.” The disbelief in Karen’s voice was obvious.

Bob undid his fly and shoved his completely limp prick into my mouth. As he had given me some water I took some pity on him and tried my best to massage him into arousal but it was a losing battle. Vainly he pumped his hips back and forth but his prick stayed resolutely floppy and, after a moment or two, it fell out.

“Having a little trouble, are we? Doesn’t look like you can get it up.” Karen sneered. “What’s up? Can’t do it with me watching or did you never want a blow job in the first place? I’ve had just about enough of you. Now fuck off before I decide you’re a nasty little traitor and cut that useless little prick of yours right off.”

There was a rattle from the door as Bob left and Karen now stood beside me.

“I wouldn’t put too much faith in Bob, when did he say he was going to rescue you?”

“Please, Mistress Karen, I don’t know what…” was as far as I got before there was a swish and my buttocks felt the sting of a whip or crop, or something slashed across them.

“Tonight. He said he’d come for me tonight, after you’ve gone to sleep, Mistress Karen.” I replied meekly.

“That’s better. Obedience is so much easier for everybody in the long run.” Karen purred. “Now let’s fix this gag back in place and I’ll leave you alone.” 

Karen buckled the gag back, once again filling my mouth with the rubber ball. Then I heard the creak of the door once more and the shed returned to silence. As I lay there I wondered just why I had been so quick to rat on Bob. Useless lardarse he might be, but at least he was offering me freedom. Was I so scared of the lash, so scared of what Karen would do to me that I had capitulated after only one blow or, was there a deeper reason, a reason that, subconsciously, I wished to stay here, that I didn’t want my freedom? Again the stark reality hit me that I was driven by urges deep within me, urges that I had little power to resist, urges that led me to dark places, to act in depraved ways, to be someone I simply couldn’t understand. When I asked myself how could it be this way I couldn’t answer, I didn’t know the answer, I’m not sure I wanted to know the answer but if I tried to deny how I felt the darkness within me would always resurface, a hidden secret that demanded release.

I was still pondering this when the door creaked again but this time, much as I sensed that there was someone else in the shed, whomever it was just stood there waiting. A few moments later the door opened again.

“Steve, good, thanks for coming.” I heard Karen say. “Look, I want to keep this a secret, just between us two, and we might need a cover story, you’d best fuck her face just in case someone comes.”

There was a certain amount of shuffling around, the gag was unfastened and Steve’s prick was pushed into my mouth. Unlike Bob, Steve had no problem getting hard and my mouth was full as he shoved it inside. It was difficult to follow the conversation, they kept their voices down and both the hood and the prick inside my mouth made listening hard. However I did catch ‘he’s a traitor… sometime tonight… keep a special watch… don’t drink too much… catch him in the act… watch for my signal.’

“Ok, you got it?” Karen finished off. “Now give me a kiss.”

I felt Karen’s body pressing against the side of my head and Steve reacted by pushing himself harder into my face. I couldn’t believe that Karen had any genuine affection for a Neanderthal like Steve but I could well believe that she would string him along, keep him dangling, using his simple nature to keep him on her side. As a companion Steve would hardly meet Karen’s standards but as an enforcer he certainly fitted the bill and, who knows, maybe she enjoyed using his prick for her own satisfaction from time to time. He was certainly a more likely candidate than Bob or Randy. Whatever the situation, Karen’s kiss certainly enflamed Steve’s ardour; I could feel her rubbing her body against him, Steve was pushing his prick harder and further into my mouth and it wasn’t long before, with a deep animal grunt, he climaxed and yet another mouthful of sperm was pumped down my throat.

Once Steve had finished he withdrew and, with Karen’s blessing, left the shed. She, on the other hand, spent a few minutes, reattaching the gag, checking the straps and generally playing with her new toy. There was a scraping sound in front of me and she spoke, her voice very near my ear. Evidently she had pulled something up and was now sat on it. Softly, sensuously, her hand stroked my jaw and my neck, the caress of a lover, not a subjugator.

“Well, my little slave, how are you enjoying your new life. It looks like you’ve been everyone’s plaything today. I even saw little Mel slipping into the shed to have a go although, if I know Mel at all, it wasn’t to use a strap-on. Did she hurt my little fuck cunt? I know that’s what she likes to do; she’s a right little Cruella Da Ville on the quiet.” Suddenly her voice got deeper and darker. “You had better get used to it; this is how it’s going to be from now on. You’ll be used by whomever I want, whenever I want, however I want, and you’ll have no say in the matter. Your cunt, your ass, your mouth, they’re mine, mine to use, mine to lend out and any disobedience will be very painful for you, very painful indeed. Do you understand?”

Wearily I nodded my head.

“Good little girl, good little fuck cunt.” Karen’s voice was almost soothing. “One day you’ll thank me. One day you’ll be grateful to me for treating you like this and, do you know, that day will be much sooner than you think. Now, I’m off for my meal, it would seem that Kelly is quite a cook which means she’s at least good for one thing. Maybe you’ll join us later. Don’t run away now.”

My mind in turmoil I listened as the door creaked again and then there was silence, the deep black silence as I lay, pondering my fate. I was so confused, my thoughts chaotic and disjointed. I had experienced so much in the last few hours, I had been so used and abused that I didn’t know where to begin to try to assimilate it all and I didn’t know what I wanted, what I needed. Part of me would give just about anything for a shower and a bed, simple releases from the discomforts I was suffering but part of me was responding to far deeper needs, far darker desires but, whatever those desires might be, I could do nothing but wait, wait for whatever happened next.

In the darkness of the hood time takes on a different meaning and I have no idea how long I was left. It started to grow colder so I guessed that night had drawn in. My limbs, tightly constrained to the frame of the sawhorse, had grown stiff and there were so many places where the mud had dried that I felt a desperate need to itch. Quite frankly, at that point, I’d have sold my soul for a shower, a long hot shower.

The shed door gave it’s usual creak and the next thing I knew my wrists and arms were being freed. It wasn’t long, though, before they were refastened behind my back and I had neither the strength nor the will to put up any resistance. Indeed, even when the straps around my legs and torso were loosened I just lay there. Whomever it was, I guessed that Karen would send Steve, could do as they wished, I had no fight left in me. A firm grip around my upper arm confirming that it was indeed Steve, pulled me to my feet and, without a word being said I was marched out of the shed. I fought against the numbness, forcing my legs to move, trying to keep up, trying not to be simply dragged along and we had gone maybe twenty yards before I was simply dropped, falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Ah, fuck cunt, so good of you to join us. I do hope you are fully rested.” Karen said sweetly.  “Steve, honey, could you take the hood and gag off her?”

With the hood removed I  could see where I was. It was after dark and the party were all sitting round a camp fire, the only source of light. Most were lounging on the ground but Karen had taken one of the chairs off the porch and was sat in it. Various plates and bottles scatted around attested to the meal they had eaten and, more importantly, all the beer that had been drunk. Karen, Steve, Mel and Bob didn’t seem to be that bad but Kelly and Randy were noticeably intoxicated. To my surprise Kelly was still dressed in nothing but her tee shirt and still had the strap-on jutting from her groin. She saw me staring.

“Do you like my PRICK, fuck cunt.” Her words were slurred, she really was very drunk. “How about I fuck your ASS with it?”

She tried to stand but didn’t make it, collapsing in a giggling heap across Randy’s lap.

“Oooh, big boy, how’s about I fuck your ass?” She flung her head back in some bazaar parody of a sex kitten. “How’s about you and me go and have some fun together.”

Randy’s eyes were as glazed over as Kelly’s and he was having trouble putting a reply together when Karen cut across.

“If you two want to fuck then I’m not going to stop you but I’d suggest that Kelly’s dildo will be the stiffest prick either of you will see tonight. Now shut it.” Karen slapped them down. “Now, then, fuck cunt, are you hungry?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes, what?” Karen snapped back.

“Yes, please, Mistress Karen, fuck cunt is hungry.”

“Well, come over her and ask nicely. No, don’t get up, wriggle across like the worm you are.”

With my wrists fastened behind my back it was hard to wriggle through the dirt and, as I did so, my belly and, in particular, my nipples were being scraped across the ground. They were still sore from Mel’s fingernails and each scrape, each touch was agony. Why then did they stick out so much, why was every rasp sending little arrows of fire straight to my groin?

Once I was close enough Karen pushed her shoe in my face. There was no great secret as to what I was supposed to do, it’s just that in my fantasies any shoe I would be licking wouldn’t be badly in need of cleaning after several miles slogging through the wilderness. In my dreams it had been the well polished leather of my Master’s immaculate footwear, or possibly the patent leather toes of  Mistresses’ high heeled boots, but never the scraped and muddy toe of well worn walking shoes. Tentatively I poked out my tongue and started on the toecap of the left shoe, however, the dust and grit, combined with my dry mouth, left me with no saliva to speak of and the dirt was clogging my mouth.

“A bit dry for you? Maybe you would prefer this.” Karen bent down and took off her shoe and sock. It was immediately evident that this was the first time she had done so today as her foot was pungently sweaty. Almost delicately she sat back, holding her foot out in front of my face. As I reached out with my tongue she pushed forward and I was sucking on her toes. All too aware of how dependent I was on her goodwill I did my best to suppress any nausea and to use my mouth, my lips, my tongue to caress and worship. As I eased my tongue between her toes I could feel her respond; somehow the salty taste of her sweaty feet wasn’t so bad when I knew that what I was doing was appreciated.

“Very good.” Karen purred. “Just do the other one and we’ll see about getting you something to eat and drink.”

Karen slipped off her other shoe and pushed her toes into my mouth. This time any reticence I had had with the other foot was gone. I knew what I had to do, I knew it pleased Mistress Karen and I had a very real desire to do my utmost do so. Firstly, and very simply, I had no illusions as to the power she had over me; my welfare was completely dependent on her whim. However, this was far from the complete story. Foot worship had always been part of my fantasies and now, with a major twist, this was what I was doing for real. I had never, in my wildest dreams, thought that I would be covered in dirt, or that my tormentor would be female, but, now I was doing it, both seemed natural, both seemed right. And it wasn't just Mistress Karen who was pleased; this was a shared experience, the slave feeling pleasure at pleasing her Mistress for, somehow, I just knew that Mistress Karen’s response was not just sensual, but also involved the pleasure of having me at her feet. With the exception of Mel, and Mel would always be an exception, the other's sexuality was coarse, basic and mostly involved simple stimulation of their sexual organs until they achieved orgasm. Mistress Karen, on the other hand, was a connoisseur, someone who understood the finer pleasures which could only come from the more exotic pathways of eroticism.

With a sigh Mistress Karen removed her foot and sat upright.

“Well, well, well, quite the little expert at foot worship. Trust me when I say that you will be doing quite a bit of that in the future. Now, is little fuck cunt hungry?”

“Yes, please Mistress Karen.” I replied. I had, after all, eaten nothing since breakfast and I had thrown up most of that.

“I’m sure we have some spare hot dogs somewhere.”  She looked around behind her and fetched a plate with four hot dogs on it. Taking one between her fingers she held it out and let the frankfurter fall out of the bun onto the ground in front of me. Taken aback at what was expected of me I just stared at it.

“What’s up, fuck cunt? Not enough mustard? Come along now, you don’t want to let good food go to waste. If you don’t finish what you’re given I’ll have to punish you.”

I’d long realised that Mistress Karen’s threats were not to be ignored and bent my head to the ground to pick up the frankfurter. It was stone cold, and the mustard covered bits had picked up dirt which made it gritty but at least it was food and, as I started eating, I realised how ravenous I was. However my dry mouth was making things difficult and swallowing was such a chore that I nearly choked a couple of times. At the second time Mistress Karen took notice.

“Does fuck cunt need a drink?”

“Yes, please, Mistress Karen.”

Again Mistress Karen reached behind her this time returning with one of the picnic coolers and placed it in front of me.

“Well, what are you waiting for? There’s plenty of water in there.” She said. I had been waiting for her to reach something out of the cooler but it seemed that I was expected to drink directly from it. With my wrists still behind me it was a struggle getting to my knees but eventually I managed and peered inside the cooler. In the flickering firelight it was hard to make out exactly what was inside but this one had evidently held the beers as it was now empty except for a few labels that I could just make out floating around in the melted ice at the bottom. Once again, beggars can’t be choosers so I dipped my head in and drank. I know the water was less than pure, I know it tasted of the glue they use to stick the labels on the bottles, I know it had all sorts floating around in it, and, as soon as my face was immersed I added plenty of mud to the mix, but to me, right there, right then, it was the perfect elixir. My hunger had been nothing compared to my thirst. Again and again I ducked my head, at first to wash the half eaten frankfurters from my mouth, but then simply because, filthy as it was, it tasted so good, because, far more than the food, water was my biggest need.

Finally sated I knelt back up, muddy water streaming down my body from my soaking hair. The food and drink were the first bit of kindness I had been shown, the first time my needs had been taken into consideration and I was surprisingly grateful. To be given two cold frankfurters and allowed to drink the dregs from the picnic cooler may not sound much but in my emotionally battered state it was manna from heaven.

“Thank you, Mistress Karen, thank you.” I said softly.

“Come here.” Mistress Karen moved the cooler which stood between us and I shuffled forwards on my knees. “Have we been harsh on fuck cunt? Have we mistreated you?”

I really didn’t know how to answer. The silence round the camp fire was only broken by the occasional crackling of logs from the fire as the group waited on my answer.

“You hurt me, Mistress Karen.” I finally compromised.

“But, fuck cunt, how else could we train you? You know you’re a little pain slut, you know this is what you’ve always wanted, it’s just that you’ve never had a Mistress before. Now you have and I’m going to take you in hand and train you up properly. Now, come closer and kneel properly with your knees apart. If you kneel like that again you will be punished.”

I shuffled further forward and opened my knees as instructed. Mistress Karen reached down with her foot and rubbed it against my pussy. Her toes probed between my labia, opening me up, finding me moist as always. Unbidden I moved my hips, opening me up further, pushing myself against her foot. A little voice at the back of my head was appalled, had I no dignity left that I was shamelessly rutting myself against Mistress Karen’s foot? Was this what she had reduced me to? My groin, however, wasn’t listening, I didn’t want this, I needed it.

“You see, fuck cunt” Mistress Karen continued, “like all subbie pain sluts you’re ruled by your cunt, you’ll do anything, anything at all as long as your cunt gets what it wants. When you become my slave, my property, my plaything you will learn to serve me perfectly and in return you’ll learn the ecstasy that only true servitude can bring. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen.” I replied breathlessly. Her hypnotic voice, combined with her foot rubbing harder and harder was making my juices flow and I was powerless to prevent myself. Mistress Karen was right, I am a pain slut, I am ruled by my cunt, I needed release, I needed it so badly. Maybe if I pushed a little harder, maybe just a little faster…

“That’s enough.” Mistress Karen said pulling her foot away. “You’ve had your food, now it’s your bed time. But, before you go, you’re going to go round the group and thank them for helping me train you today.”

For a moment or two I just slumped, I had been riding the high, feeling the building pleasure within my groin and it had been suddenly snatched away. It took me a minute or two to return, to gather my wits about me. I glanced up at Mistress Karen and caught her eye but her stern expression warned me that she wouldn't indulge me for long. I had had my instruction and I had better get on with it.

I shuffled round on my knees and thanked each one in turn. First was Mel who looked at me as if I was some sort of specimen in a jar. Bob just looked embarrassed and out of place, Steve was distant, and then came Kelly and Randy. Kelly was still sat on Randy’s lap and he had his hand deep in her groin. As with the others I bowed my head and said my thank you but Kelly wasn’t letting me get away that easy.

“Suck my cock, fuck cunt.” She slurred. “God, I’ve always wanted to say that.”

I lent forward to comply and, as I did so, my sodden hair fell forward against her naked thighs.

“Oh my God, get off me.” She screamed and pushed me away. “Euch! Look what the cunt’s done to me. God, she’s filthy.”

“That’s enough.” Karen laughed. “Steve, take fuck cunt back to the shed will you and I think she needs to learn about keeping her legs apart so the leg spreaders may be appropriate tonight.”

Steve lit a storm lantern and, lifting me by my shoulder, led me back to the shed. Once we had got there, rather than putting me over the horse again I was laid on the floor face down and, as Mistress Karen had requested, my ankles were fitted with a leg spreader holding me wide open. Steve then fetched a length of chain and fastened it in a loop around my neck. He then took a large metal peg from the bench and, using a heavy hammer, drove it into the dirt floor of the shed. The chain was then fastened to the peg leaving maybe a foot of slack between the peg and my neck and I was tethered, my movement limited to what I could squirm and how far the chain would let me. It was almost a relief not to be hooded again but, once Steve had left, taking the lantern with him, the darkness was absolute.

Sleep was slow to come and when it did it was shallow and patchy. At first the silence was as absolute as the dark but then the moon came out and a limited amount of light filtered through the chinks in the boarding. With the light there came small animal noises, little scratching, scurrying sounds coming out of the shadows. I couldn’t see anything, there was nowhere near enough light for that, but I could hear that the shed was infested. Mice, rats, racoons? It could have been any of those and then, when I felt the tiny claws scampering across my body, my scream must surely have woken the others in the cabin. Nobody came, however and, although my scream seemed to have frightened off whatever it was, it was a long time before I stopped shaking and my imagination kept hearing noises just beyond the range of hearing.

And then the storm blew in, one of those mountain storms which come out of nowhere, last half an hour and disappear again. The wind got up and, with the moon once again obscured, total darkness returned. At first it was just the rattling of lose boards in the increasingly gusting wind that kept me awake, then it was the drumming of the torrential rain. The noise on it’s own was deafening but in terms of keeping me awake that soon took second place to the drips. The shed’s construction may have been waterproof once upon a time but now the roof leaked like a sieve and, to cap it all, I appeared to be lying in a depression, a depression which was fast filling with water. It took a while for the rain to seep its way through but once it had there was a steady drip, drip, drip landing on my back which continued long after the rain had gone. I tried to manoeuvre away from it but only succeeded in churning up the mud in the puddle in which I lay. It seemed that wherever I moved there was a drip and the only thing to do was lie there and take it, cold, wet and thoroughly miserable.

Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was because I was lying in a puddle or maybe I shouldn’t have drunk so much water earlier on but, quite frankly, I didn’t have much choice and I don’t think it would have made that much difference. Whatever it was I was now about to pay the price. The water I had drunk had gone straight through me and increasingly my bladder was beginning to complain. Under other circumstances I would have clamped my knees together but the leg spreader prevented this and, anyway, I was only delaying the inevitable. As with so many other things I had to resign myself to the unavoidable and take what was coming to me. Once I had crossed the Rubicon, once I had decide to wet myself there was even a sense of relief as the urine flowed from me and, for a short while, the water around my groin was warm, not cold.

I was therefore cold, wet and increasingly exhausted when I saw the torch flickering through the gaps in the boarding. There was a rattle of timber as the door was unbarred and, with the usual creak Bob pushed the door open.

“Hi, I told you I would come.” He said shining the light in my face.

“Bob, you...” I started to warn him about Karen.

“Shh.” He cut across me. “Keep quiet, we don't want to wake anyone. Now, where are the keys.”

Bob's exhortation to be quite was somewhat ruined by the way that he wouldn't stop talking and the noise he was making as he rummaged around on the bench looking for the keys. As he searched he was getting increasingly frantic and even resorted to tugging at the chain that held me down but the peg held firm. Once again he returned to the bench muttering 'What to do, what to do, what to do' all the while. He was so engrossed he didn’t notice when Mistress Karen and Steve arrived, standing at the door holding a storm lantern. My eyes met Mistress Karen's and she gave me a conspiratorial smile and held a finger to her lips. She let Bob rummage about for a few more moments more before...

“Is this what you're looking for?” Mistress Karen asked sweetly holding the keys out in front of her.

“I... I... I...” Bob stuttered as he spun round knocking bits and pieces off the bench.

“Oh, I know all about your little plan.” Mistress Karen continued. “fuck cunt told me all about it earlier, just after you’d come in for you 'blow job'. Yeah, that’s right, it was fuck cunt that ratted on you. It seems that she was keener to stay with me than to escape with you.”

“But... But...” Bob still couldn't get a coherent sentence together.

“Oh shut up, you despicable worm. It's no wonder fuck cunt didn't want to escape, she's got far more discernment than to go with a slug like you. Look at you, fat, useless, and without a clue. Did you really think an incompetent like you could get the better of me?

Well, you’re going to find out exactly how wrong you were. In the meantime, whilst you wait until I decide exactly how I’m going to deal with you you’re going to spend the night with here in the shed. Get on the floor, naked, now!”

“Please, Karen…” Bob began.

“Floor. Naked. Now!” Mistress Karen strode across the shed and grabbed a riding crop from the bench. Bob looked at her, at the way she held the crop ready to strike, he looked at Steve guarding the door and back at Mistress Karen. Nervously his fingers reached for his the zip of his jacket and he tugged it down as he started to undress. Mistress Karen slashed at him with the riding crop catching him across the backs of his thighs.

“Faster, slug, I haven’t got all night.” Bob needed no further urging, he started to tear off his clothes dropping them in an untidy pile on the floor. His jacket was followed by his shirt revealing a well developed beer belly. Then, as he started to push down his jeans we all got a surprise.

“Well, well, well. Look at this.” Mistress Karen pointed with her riding crop to the bulge in Bob’s boxers that he was desperately trying to hide with his hands. “Come along now, slug, don’t be shy, show us all the hard on you’ve got.”

Bob glanced at Mistress Karen and, seeing the determined expression on her face started to push down his boxers to reveal his swollen prick standing hard and proud. Mistress Karen poked at it with the end of the riding crop causing Bob to squirm.

“Look, fuck cunt, now we see what your knight in shining armour is made of. He couldn’t get it up for a blow job from you but as soon as I threaten him with a riding crop he’s super hard. Looks like he’s a little subbie too. Too bad I couldn’t care less about training him.” Mistress Karen turned her attention back to Bob. “Did I say you could stop? Why aren’t you naked? Why aren’t you on the floor?”

Feverishly Bob pushed his boxers right off,  Mistress Karen hitting him all the time with the crop. Naked at last he got down on the floor to lie on his stomach next to me. Mistress Karen got some shackles from the bench and, with a speed and efficiency that belied long practice, started to hog tie him. As she did so she wrinkled her nose.

“God, something stinks in here. Have you wet yourself, fuck cunt?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen.” I mumbled.

“Dirty little fuck cunt, isn’t she?” and taking Bob by the hair she pushed his face into the puddle, rubbing his nose in it as if he were a naughty puppy.

“Right, that’s that dealt with.” Mistress Karen stood up. “You two should be safe until the morning and I can go back to bed and get some well earned rest.

With that she and Steve left and the shed was returned to total darkness.

“Why did you have to tell her?” Bob whined. “Why did you have to ruin everything?”

“Oh, shut up, Bob, you’re despicable, you know that?” I replied. “Now get some sleep, were going to need it.”

Bob grunted and squirmed about a bit but, after a while he settled down and it was no surprise that he began to snore loudly. It looked like I was in for a long night.

By the time dawn arrived my spirits had sunk to an all time low. I had maybe caught two or three hours of fretful sleep which had done nothing to refresh me, I was covered in filth, bitterly cold and lying a muddy puddle partially made by my own urine, My arms ached from being held behind my back and I had so many hurts, so many pains that it was hard to enumerate them. However these were just physical discomforts. Far worse was what was going through my mind.

I truly had no concept of what was in store for me. Sure, in general terms, I knew I was going to be abused both sexually and physically, but I also knew there had to be more. As things stood at the moment there was nothing to stop me going to the police as soon as I was released and yet none of my tormentors seemed in any way concerned about this. The obvious way of ensuring my silence was to make sure I never returned from the hills; I wouldn't be the first hiker to be lost even if bears or rock falls were the more usual reasons.

Somehow, however, I couldn't believe that this was going to be my fate. Maybe it was wishful thinking but cold blooded murder seemed beyond what my captors were prepared to do and, more significantly, Mistress Karen had intimated several times that this weekend was the start of some much longer process. Not only had she said repeatedly that I would have to get used to being abused but she had said that I would eventually come to welcome it. Those words kept echoing through my mind; would I, could I ever welcome such abuse? For years my darkest fantasies, had been dreams of submission and my most powerful orgasms had come as I imagined myself tormented by a cruel Master; the reality I was now facing was far more complicated. I felt as if I were being torn in two, pulled asunder by violent forces that struggled within me. The rational me, the sensible me, the me that used her brain, knew that this was something I should run from, some sick game that would suck me in and destroy me. But that voice of reason was not the only one that ran through my mind. There was another voice, a much more animal voice, which spoke not from my brain but from my groin. Mistress Karen was right, despite everything they had done to me, or was that because of everything they had done to me, I had been aroused like never before and the darker side of my sexuality had responded; the abuse had spoken to something very primitive deep, deep inside me, something that was powerful, something I couldn’t control, something that was hungry for more. Lying there in the dirt, in the filth, in the cold and the pain I was finally beginning to face up to exactly who I was, how these dark desires I had fought for so long were part of me, a real, vital, part of me and now they were coming to claim me.

I was lost in these thoughts when I heard the door creak. Wearily I lifted my head out of the mud to see Mistress Karen and Mel standing in the doorway. Mistress Karen was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, Mel a light cotton summer dress.

“God, look at the state of her.” Mistress Karen said as she came over and gave me a push with her foot. “Filth everywhere. It's going to take some work to get her ready.”

“That's Ok, I'd love to help.” Mel replied. “I found a hose out in one of the sheds and I can connect it up to the outside tap. There's plenty of pressure to work with.”

“But it's not just the dirt, all this hair has got to go.” Mistress Karen crouched down and tugged at my hair. “I mean, look at it. It's halfway down her back. How can she be a slave with high maintenance hair like that? And then there's her crotch. Did you see it? The filthy bitch doesn't even trim her pubes. That's got to be shaven.”

“Here, try these.” Mel had been rummaging around on the bench and came over with a pair of rusty scissors she had found amongst some disused tools. By the looks of things they weren't really sharp enough to cut hair before they went rusty but that didn't stop Mistress Karen. I was pulled to my knees and she hacked away at the muddy mess, great clumps of hair falling around me. In so many ways this was as bad as a beating, my hair, my beautiful hair, was my pride and joy and it had taken years to grow, years of care and nurture to get it as long and as luxuriant and now, almost on a whim, it was being hacked off, torn from my scalp. I couldn't hold back my tears but neither woman seemed to notice; they certainly didn't stop. From time to time Mistress Karen and Mel would stand back and admire their handy work, laughing all the time, making ribald comments about my new ‘lesbo cut’. Then, whilst Mistress Karen finished off, Mel went back to searching around in the bits and pieces in the corners of the shed. With a cry of surprise she pulled something from a pile of rubbish and lugged it over to stand in front of me. What she had found was an old mirror, its glass broken and with an oily film of dust but still clear enough for me to see what they had done. My head dropped as another wave of tears overtook me but Mistress Karen tugged at what was left of my hair, pulling it back and I was forced to stare at my reflection.

“Well, what do you say?” Mistress Karen demanded but I could only stare in horror. My hair had been hacked off until it was short all over. It would have been impossible to achieve any sense of style with the blunt scissors and  I doubt if Mistress Karen had even tried. What little was left was less than an inch long and stuck out in untidy clumps. I looked like one of those French women accused of fraternising with the Nazis, this was a haircut to punish, not to embellish.

“I asked you a question.” Mistress Karen's grip tightened. “Now, what do you say?”

I was still lost for words and I couldn't for the life of me understand what she wanted. She strode to the bench returning immediately and resumed her grip on what was left of my hair.

“Thank. (slash) You. (slash) Mistress. (slash) For. (slash)  Cutting. (slash)  My. (slash)  Hair. (slash)” Mistress Karen emphasised each word with the cane across my breasts. “Now, let's try again.”

I tried, I really tried, but the words wouldn’t come; I was really and truly bereft of speech. I knew that silence would only lead to further beatings, I knew I had to come up with something, indeed I had just been told the words I had to say but each and every attempt failed, choked by my incessant sobbing.

“God, you’re useless.” Mistress Karen said at last. She pushed me roughly to the ground before turning to Mel. “Ok, let’s get her set up.”

Mel unfastened the leg spreader and I was picked up by my arms and frogmarched from the shed. At the edge of the clearing around the cabin there were two trees close together and a couple of ropes had been hung over suitable branches. I was taken over and laid down on my back between the two trees. At the end of each rope was a thick padded strap and these were fitted around my ankles and buckled firmly into place before the leg spreader was refitted. Then Mistress Karen and Mel took one rope each and pulled. They experimented for a while, getting the ropes even, until I was hanging upside down with my head a foot or so from the ground.  Then my wrists were unfastened and tied to ropes leading to the foot of each tree so I was spread-eagled as well as upside down. Mistress Karen and Mel stood back and admired their handy work.

“Well, that’s all sorted.” Mistress Karen said. “She’s fine like that. I’ll leave you to it. Are you sure you don’t mind doing the washing?”

“No, not at all, I’m rather looking forward to it.” Mel replied.

“Ok, just…” Mistress Karen hesitated as if unsure what to say. “Don’t go too hard, remember that breaking her is my privilege.”

“Don’t worry.” Mel laughed. “I’ll be gentle as a kitten.”

“I know your ‘kitten’.” Mistress Karen laughed mirthlessly. “It’s got sharp claws. Just be careful, that’s all. Give me a shout when you’ve finished.”

The two women left, Mistress Karen heading for the cabin and Mel for one of the sheds. It wasn’t long before Mel returned carrying a bucket and dragging a length of hose. The end of the hose had some sort of pistol on it and she was pulling the trigger in bursts, experimenting with how strong the flow was.

“Not bad water pressure for out in the middle of nowhere.” She commented conversationally. “It seems that it’s piped in from a spring up in the hills behind us. Kind of convenient for a run down shack like this.”

She placed the bucket on the ground and gave me a couple of experimental squirts with the hose. The jet of water hit me in the stomach, cold but not freezing. Mel jumped back as the water splashed back around her.

“Looks like if I’m going to get up close and personal then this dress has got to go. I don’t want your filth all over it.” She shrugged out of the dress, put it over a rock and stood before me in just her panties and trainers. If you didn’t know her she looked the picture of young sweet innocence. Her body was slim and lithe, her breasts had the firmness of youth, her long blonde hair framing a cute face. Her sweet smile, however, I now knew, was a front to something much darker and I was reminded of Mistress Karen’s comments: this kitten had sharp claws.

“Now you hold still and we’ll get you all nicely cleaned up for Mistress Karen.” She reached into the bucket for a scrubbing brush and set to work. Starting at the top she used a combination of the brush and the hose to blast away the accumulated layers of mud that had dried all over me. To reach my feet she had to pull over a log to stand on and her body was squirming against mine. The brush was designed for hard wooden floors and the stiff bristles scratched at my skin leaving it raw and red. As she worked her way down no inch of me was spared, indeed she seemed to spend longer on my crotch and breasts than was necessary just to get them clean. The she spent some time blasting away at what was left of my hair; it was strange after all the years of long hair to feel my scalp so exposed.

Once she had removed most of the mud she put down the brush and, using her free hand, reached for my pussy, opening me up. With the hose at full blast she played the jet of water back and forth, hammering against my sensitive skin. She seemed to spend ages playing it against my clit and as the battering increased I couldn't help a cry of pain. Mel stopped almost immediately and crouched down next to my face.

“What’s up, fuck cunt?” She enquired sweetly.

“Please, please Mistress Mel, I can’t take it, it hurts too much.” I doubted my pleading would help but I couldn’t stop myself.

“But I’ve got to get you all nice and clean, I’ve got to get all that nasty mud out of those intimate little places. Think what Mistress Karen would say if I left mud in your cunt. Here I know what will help.” She stood up, took off her sodden panties, balled them up and slipped them into my mouth. “That’s better. Now I can work in peace and you can squeal all you want. Don’t you even think of spitting them out.”

Mel stood before me, her trainers emphasising the fact that she was otherwise naked. I couldn’t help but stare, she was really pretty and really sexy; a stark contrast between the sweet nymphet she appeared to be and the twisted vindictive vicious bitch I new she was. She saw my stare and struck several poses in front of me before she reached down and picked up the hose and set back to work.

She went straight back my pussy but she was far from satisfied with simply working on the outside. I felt her fingers prising me open, the nozzle of the hose pushed inside and then the shock, the agony as the high pressure jet was forced inside me. Ironically I was glad of the panty-gag, it gave me something to bite down on, something to strain against as time after time she’d squeeze the trigger.

Once she’d finished my troubles were far from over, my buttocks, or more specifically the crack between them was the next area she concentrated on. As she played the jet of water up and down the crease I didn’t need to guess what was coming next; a hose that can be used as a douche can just as easily be used for enemas and it wasn’t long before I felt the nozzle being forced against the tight ring of my sphincter. I couldn’t help but clench my buttocks but all that meant was that Mel pushed harder and, inevitably, the tip of the nozzle was forced inside.

When Mel had been douching me she had used short bursts. Admittedly there were quite a lot of them but there had been time in-between for some of the water to escape. With the enema the nozzle fitted quite tightly into may anus creating a pretty watertight seal and the hose just seemed to stay on and on and on. At first it wasn’t too bad but increasingly I felt full, full to capacity, full to bursting, full to agony, full to I can’t take it any more. I felt as if my guts would explode from the inside, as if she would cause me serious medical damage before, suddenly, she pulled out the hose and leapt back as the water shot from me, streaming down my back. Mel finished off by playing the hose against me, rinsing me down, washing away the filth.

She came back round in front of me and emptied the bucket on the ground before starting to fill it from the hose. She took a plastic bottle from the pile she had just emptied from the bucket and squirted it into the water which caused it to foam generously. She then fetched a sponge and, again starting with my feet, washed me down rubbing the soapy water in. After the harshness of the scrubbing brush the softness of the sponge was soothing against my skin and whatever she had added to the water had a pleasant smell of apples. Maybe it was the contrast with the rest of my treatment but, as with when I had been fed the previous night, any respite from the abuse felt wonderful; even a little tenderness was bliss. The soft sponge sliding across my battered skin woke every nerve and when she worked on my breasts and groin my body couldn’t help but respond.

She squatted down and set to work on what was left of my hair. Her slender fingers worked the rich lather into my scalp and the end effect was almost as sensuous as when she had worked on my breasts or my groin. The position had my head directly between her knees so that her pussy, with its covering of well trimmed blonde hair, was right in front of my face. Despite the indignity of all that was happening I had to fight the temptation to lean forward and kiss it.

Once she had finished soaping me she fetched some shaving foam from the pile emptied from the bucket, squirted some into the palm of her hand and started to massage it into my pubic mound. If the soaping had been sensual this was exquisite, she seemed to be deliberately using her fingers to get me as aroused as possible and was taking far more time and trouble than was necessary simply to rub the shaving foam in. Once she had finished she parted my lips and felt for my clitoris. Rolling it gently between her thumb and forefinger she was taking me higher and higher. She broke off, squatted down, and took her panties out of my mouth.

“Did you enjoy that, fuck cunt?” As ever her tone was sweet.

“Yes, Mistress Mel, thank you Mistress Mel.” I replied.

“And is your clitty all swollen and happy?” She continued.

“Yes, Mistress Mel.” I’m not sure that ‘happy’ was how I would have described it but if she wanted to play along to her little girl image I wasn’t in any position to argue.

“If you were mine then it wouldn’t just be your hair I’d be shaving, think how much you’d scream if your clitty was shaved off as well.” She stood up, one hand spread my lips and I felt the hard edge of the razor resting against my clit.

“Well,” Mistress Mel continued. “Shall I? One quick stroke and it’s gone. I could tell Karen my hand slipped. I’m sure she’d understand.”

“Please, please Mistress Mel.” I was desperate. With any of the others I would have known that this was just a wind up, just a play to scare me but I had no illusions about Mistress Mel having any limits as to what she would do.

“Hmm… Maybe not. I did promise, didn’t I?” Mel removed the razor and I went back to breathing again.

Even with the soap and the foam it was quite a job to shave off my pubic hair. After nearly every stroke she would rinse off the razor in the bucket and I could feel her working nearer and nearer to my lips. She was being very thorough and I knew there would be nothing left by the time she had finished. As she worked her free hand held and manipulated my flesh and, once again, I was in a position where I was being stimulated and aroused despite the humiliating position and the constant fear of what was being done to me. I knew my clit was still quite swollen and hoped it wasn’t too prominent. I still wouldn’t put it past Mistress Mel to nick the end off ‘by accident’.

Finished at last she emptied the bucket by simply tipping the water over me. She then returned to the hose and working down from my toes, methodically washed off all the soap. Ironically it actually made me feel better. I felt that the immediate threat was receding and I felt clean and alive for the first time since I had been captured. Mel too seemed to have lost interest. She wasn’t missing anything and she was still being thorough but there wasn’t the intensity any more.

Once she had finished she rinsed herself off, picked up her dress, threw all the bits and pieces into the empty bucket and headed off back to the cabin. I hung there drying in the morning sun. There was a light breeze blowing and it was setting out to be a perfect spring day. I wondered what was next; I had obviously been cleaned for a purpose, how soon before I found out what it was.

After she had dropped off the hose and bucket Mel went into the cabin only to return a few moments later dressed and towelling her hair. She was accompanied by Mistress Karen who had changed out of her shorts and tee shirt into some sort of dark top. Both of them were carrying mugs of coffee and they sat down on the easy chairs on the porch. Although it was too far for me to hear what they were saying, they were obviously talking about me as they kept looking in my direction and pointing from time to time. It was maybe fifteen minutes before Mistress Karen put down her cup and, picking something up from the table, stood up and walked over to the stairs leading down from the porch.

As she came closer I could see that she was wearing some sort of wrap, a kimono perhaps, which was short enough to show to full advantage her long slender legs. The material was deep burgundy so dark it was almost black with an expensive silky sheen. On her feet she wore matching high heeled court shoes which meant that she was picking her way with some care across the rough ground towards the trees where I hung. I’d always felt she was attractive but there was something about the way the wrap, her raven hair and her dark eyes went together to give her an almost classic beauty. And her legs, her long, long slender legs: I would have given anything there and then to have legs like that, legs to die for. In her hand she carried a short leather strap maybe a foot or so long which ended in a wooden handle. Beautiful or not, there was something about the look in her eyes which was disturbing, a coolness maybe, a complete lack of compassion.

She came over and stood in front of me, saying not a word as she studied me closely. Then her hand reached out for my newly shaven pubic mound which she stroked, re-awakening the sexual arousal that had never been far away ever since I had been taken. She was no novice and within moments my body was responding, my excitement growing.

“You’re a pain slut, fuck cunt. Do you know that?” She said at last. “In fact you’re such a pain slut that you’re ruled by it and I’m going to use it to rule you. The sooner you realise that you’re my pain slut the easier it will be. All you have to do is admit it to yourself.”

“No, Mistress Karen, please no.” I replied.

“Do you know what a pain slut is?” Mistress Karen enquired.

“Yes… No… I’m not sure, Mistress Karen.” I replied confused by the way the questioning was going.

“The slut part means that you’re ruled by your cunt. You’re such a horny little cow that always thinking about sex and you’re not fussy how you do it. You’ll do anything, no matter how depraved, how perverted, how disgusting as long as it gets you off. You don’t believe me, well I’ve been watching you and for all your tears, for all your protests, you’ve been loving all this, loving the attention. Your cunt, your mouth, your ass, you didn’t mind which it was as long as someone’s prick was inside it.. Why you even came a couple of times. Most women would have fought, most women would have done anything to get away but you’ve been revelling in every second, coming back for more. Isn’t that so?”

“No, Mistress Karen. Please, Mistress Karen, it’s not like that, honest it’s not.” I kept saying ‘it’s not, it’s not’ as the tears started to flow

“Oh yes it is, fuck cunt.” Mistress Karen continued. “I mean, look at you, right now, you’re so turned on your cunt’s dripping. Here, have a taste.”

She pushed two fingers into my pussy, removed them and reached down to my head, pushing them into my mouth. Whatever I wanted to be true I couldn’t deny that her fingers had slipped in easily and the taste of my juices was very strong. However much I wanted to believe that it was a simple reaction to her fingers playing with me part of me was whispering in the background ‘you know she’s right’.

“Well, that’s the slut part but what about the pain part.” Mistress Karen continued as she stood up again. “Let me explain.”.

As quick as a flash she struck out with the strap, a vicious slash which landed directly across the gash of my pussy lips. My clit, engorged by the play of her fingers, was fully prominent and took the main force of the blow.

I bucked and twisted against the ropes that held me, I’d never felt pain like this before, a red hot branding iron would have been kinder. The pain seared through my body, bright lights flashed before my eyes and a scream was wrenched from me. I’d hardly got over the initial shock before a second and a third blow rained down, filling my world with agony. For all my fantasies of being whipped I had never dreamed of anything like this. Gradually the initial shock subsided leaving a burning fire centred on my groin.

“You see, fuck cunt.” Mistress Karen continued as her hand returned to my battered pussy. “That’s what you want, that’s what turns you on, that’s the key to your pleasure.”

“No, no, please, Mistress Karen.” I pleaded. “Please don’t hit me again. I can’t take it. Really I can’t”

“But it’s what you need, fuck cunt. Don’t you understand, it’s what drives you. Your body doesn’t lie; however much you protest it’s easy to see that you’re still turned on.” Mistress Karen’s tone was pleasant, reasonable, as if explaining something simple to a dim child.

And she was right. My groin might be a ball of searing fire but, through the pain, through the torture, through the agony there was something else. The force of the sensations that coursed through every vein in my body had an intensity which was deeply thrilling. The contrast of the gentle touch of her fingers against my battered pussy was pushing me higher, building towards…

With no warning whatsoever she whipped her hand away and three more blows lashed down causing lightning bolts of pain shot through me, putting every muscle in spasm. A strange faraway sound of incredible intensity echoed in my ears until, as the shock subsided, I realised it was my own screams. Slowly, so slowly, I subsided back, my muscles relaxing again until I hung limply from my bonds.

When Mistress Karen’s hand returned to my pussy each touch was bitter agony, each tender stroke magnified beyond reason, but, agony or not, it didn’t stop my arousal building once again..

With the next three blows it was as if it were happening to some other person, my body bucked and twisted with the pain, I screamed and screamed and screamed, the tears flowing from my eyes. Again there was a pause to let me subside before the leather strap was replaced with her tender fingers softly touching my pussy.  The pain was still there and the tears still ran but her touch on my lips and clit brought the arousal back. She took her time, her fingers bringing life and sexual feeling back to my clitoris. Through the pain my arousal once again started to build. This time she took me further, this time she took me nearer and I knew that just a little more would bring me release but just as I was reaching the peak…

Mistress Karen snatched her hand away and three more hard blows landed on my aroused lips and engorged clitoris. The tension that just seconds ago had been building was now replaced with another bout of intense pain. I screamed and my body jerked after each swat; crying, begging and pleading for her to stop.

And then she did stop. Both literally and figuratively I hung there, I had been taken to the very brink but denied relief. I’d suffered the pain but been denied the pleasure, I’d been so close, so very close but was inevitably so far from release. As my breathing returned to normal I returned to crying.

“Think about it, fuck cunt; think about what you want, what you really, really want. Stop pretending, it’s time you accepted what you are, accepted that you’re a pain slut, accepted that you’re my pain slut.” And without another work Mistress Karen walked back to the cabin.

Mistress Karen’s words echoed in my ears. What did I want? That was easy, I wanted to go home, I wanted my freedom, I wanted life to return to normal, I wanted to forget that any of this had ever happened, to put it all in a box somewhere and hide it away. What I didn’t want was to feel the throbbing fire which ran through me, the way my groin, my body, demanded release, to be the slave to the intense emotions that Mistress Karen had woken within me. And as for Karen, Mistress Karen, I hated her, I hated every inch of her gorgeous oriental looks, her certainty that she would rule me, the way she had choreographed my capture and the multiple rapes. How could I be so weak, so pitiful that she could control me so easily. I thought about being forced to lick her feet the previous evening and despised myself for the way it made me feel. I hated her, her arrogance her pride, her haughtiness, the way she looked down on me as a piece of dirt, the way she used and abused my weakness, the way she knew my weakness, the way she understood me so well, the way she had known, right from the start, how to make me her slave.

And I knew, with a total certainty that my life would never, could never, be the same. Mistress Karen had forced me to really see, really understand, just what it was that drove me. However much I might want to return to the independent career girl I had been I would never forget, could never forget, how I felt right there, right then. For all the pain, for all the shame, the power of the thrills that centred on my burning groin were a drug I would have to return to. And it wasn’t just the pain, the previous night, lying in the dirt, sucking the toes of my Mistress had felt right, that was where I belonged, that was where I had to be, that was what I wanted. I was a slut, a pain slut, Her pain slut.

With acceptance comes peace of mind. Now I knew all I had to do was wait, wait for my Mistress to return. I have no idea if it was five minutes or fifty, I was at peace, I knew what I wanted. Exhausted by little sleep and high emotion I closed my eyes and drifted.

“Well, fuck cunt, have you decided what you want?” Mistress Karen had returned and with a jerk I woke up and opened my eyes. She stood before me, the wrap half open, showing the tight bright red leather bodice and matching leather panties she wore beneath. She was so beautiful, so majestic, I just wanted to bow down before her and offer my miserable self as a sacrifice.

“Well?” she asked again. “Have you?”

“Please, Mistress Karen, I’m a pain slut, Mistress Karen.” Acceptance or not it was difficult to admit how I felt.

“And…” Prompted Mistress Karen.

A last flicker of resistance sparked within me. Could I really offer myself into the complete control of this sadist, this woman who would only set out to hurt me. Could I really offer her my all knowing full well that there was no promise of anything in return. But my throbbing groin and the memory of her fingers overrode it, extinguishing the spark. Every fibre in my body wanted to bow down before this vision of loveliness and worship and I would pay any price to be allowed to do so.

“Please, Mistress Karen, I’m your plan slut.” I said at last. “Please let me serve you, please let me be your slave.”

“Very pretty.” Mistress Karen said with a smile. “Very pretty indeed.”

She unfastened the ropes and lowered me to the ground. My wrists and ankles were freed and, for the first time since my capture, I was unrestrained. However I had no thoughts of escape, I was caught up in the moment and my servitude was assured.

“Follow me.” Mistress Karen ordered and picked her way carefully back towards the cabin. Scared that she would change her mind, scared that I would not be acceptable, I followed behind on my hands and knees. When we got to the stairs leading up to the porch I was told to stay as Mistress Karen ascended and disappeared into the cabin for a moment. Mel looked on with an amused sparkle in her eyes.

When Mistress Karen returned she was holding a heavy leather collar, it’s bright red colour a perfect match for my Mistress’s bodice.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress Karen, a collar, Mistress Karen.” I replied.

“If you crawl up these stairs, if you accept this collar, then you become mine. You’re body becomes mine, your soul becomes mine. You will move in with me as my full time slave. You will do my bidding immediately, cheerfully and without question. Any lapses of behaviour will result in severe punishment. Do you completely understand?

“Yes, Mistress Karen, I understand.”

“And do you willingly offer yourself, freely acknowledging that you will become my possession, acknowledging my right to treat you as I wish.?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen, I am yours, I am your slave.”

“Come along then. Come to your Mistress and be mine”

Almost as if mesmerised I crawled up the stairs and knelt before her and kissed the toes of her shoes. I knew what I had to do, I knew what I had to say.

“Please, Mistress Karen, I beg you, please may I be your slave. Please may I wear your collar.”

“Kneel up.” Mistress Karen said. I did as I was told and the heavy leather was fitted round my neck and I heard a solid click as the padlock was fastened. With that click I knew my life had changed forever, for good or for worse there was no way back. I was scared but I was relieved. This was my future and I had arrived.

“Good girl, well done.” Mistress Karen said quietly. She crouched down an kissed me full on the lips, a long passionate kiss, her tongue reaching into my mouth. Breaking away at last she stood up,  went over and sat down in one of the patio chairs. She clicked her fingers and pointed to the floor in front of her. Keeping on my knees I went over and knelt where she had pointed.

“Kneel properly, keep your knees apart, your cunt should be open at all times. Clasp you hands behind your neck.” Mistress Karen reinforced her point by pushing my knees apart with the toe of her shoe. Once I was arranged to her satisfaction she rested the toe against my cunt. The cool smooth leather felt good against my battered flesh and I had trouble keeping still. Gently she eased her foot back and forth, opening me up.

“Does my slave like that?” She enquired sweetly. “Does my slave like my foot fucking her?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen, your slave loves it.” I replied breathlessly.

“And shall I let you come this time? Do you deserve to be allowed to come?”

“I... I...” Suddenly the trick question seemed obvious and I knew how I needed to reply. “Please, Mistress Karen, your slave is unworthy of being allowed to come. She is dependant on the generosity of her Mistress.”

“You see how quickly she learns.” Mistress Karen turned to Mel sitting next to her. “I knew she was a natural. I can always spot them.”

“Horny little bitch, isn't she?” Mel replied. “Look at her getting off on your shoe.”

“Yeah, but that's what makes her easy to control. Control her cunt and you control her. Orgasm denial is going to be just as efficient as the whip with this one, possibly more so.”

“Talking of slaves, what are you going to do with Bob?”

“That fat slob.” The derision in Mistress Karen's voice was clear. “Nothing, I wouldn't stoop so low. Do you want to have a play?”

“Not for keeps, but it might be fun to explain to him what happens to traitors. Was he really turned on last night?”

“God, yes.” Mistress Karen laughed. “His dinky little prick was good and hard and the more I used the crop the harder it got.”

“I wonder if he'll still be hard when I've finished with him. God, look at fuck cunt, she's right on the edge.”

Mel was right. Whilst she and Mistress Karen had been chatting the toe of Mistress Karen's shoe had been working it's magic between my thighs and I was, indeed, close to coming. However, once again I was going to have to wait. Mistress Karen removed her foot from my groin and pressed it against my stomach.

“Yuch! Slave, you've left your disgusting juices all over my best shoes. Clean them up now.” I moved my hands from behind my neck only to be brought up short. “With your tongue, stupid, with your tongue.”

She placed her foot on the floor and I leant forward and started to lick it clean and I was still like that when the cabin door opened and Steve, Kelly and Randy came out onto the porch. Randy flopped down into one of the chairs.

“God, I'm parched. Make some coffee, please, Kelly.” He said.

“Why should I? Isn't that what we've got a slave like fuck cunt for?” Kelly replied petulantly.

“No it's not.” Mistress Karen's voice was suddenly stern. “fuck cunt is my slave and I tell her what do to, not you. Now, do as you're told and make the coffee or do you want to join her?”

There was a long silence before eventually Kelly flounced off to make the coffee. It looked like the group dynamics were due another seismic change. I kept my head down, happy to be serving my Mistress, happy to be licking her shoes, happy to await whatever was going to happen.

Whilst Kelly went off to make the coffee Randy and Steve settled down in their armchairs.

“What’s with fuck cunt?” Randy asked. “I thought you said she had to be kept chained up at all times. What if she escapes? She could get all of us into big trouble.”

“Oh, fuck cunt isn’t a threat anymore, she doesn’t need chains to keep her under control, my word is enough, isn’t that so, fuck cunt?” Mistress Karen replied.

“Yes, Mistress.” I mumbled in reply.

“Speak up, fuck cunt. In fact I think you ought to go over to Master Randy and explain why you aren’t a threat anymore. Off you go.”

I shuffled across the floor of the porch on my hands and knees until I was kneeling in front of Randy. Once again Mistress Karen had put my mind in turmoil. How could I explain the change in me when I didn’t even understand it myself not to mention the shame of admitting that my new found servitude was self imposed, that serving Mistress Karen was my choice, not her imposition.

“I… I…” I started to mumble.

“Position, remember your position.” Mistress Karen said sternly. “And speak up, we all want to hear this.”

I knelt up, moved my knees apart and clasped my hands behind my neck. For the first time I fully realised how powerful this position was, how my breasts, my pussy were open, available, offered up, even to the extent that my pussy had lost it’s protective covering of pubic hair. I had to fight my desire to curl up and hide in shame, for so many years I had hid the submissive slut deep within me and now I was forced to show it, to live it, to be it, openly and constantly. Worse, I still hadn’t worked out what I was going to say. I wasn’t particularly bothered about reassuring Randy but I knew that what I said and how I said it would be important to Mistress Karen.

“Please, Master Randy, I have the privilege of being Mistress Karen’s slave.” Having started the words seemed to come naturally. “I am hers, I am her property, completely and without reservation. I owe total obedience to my Mistress and would never betray her and to betray one of her friends would be to betray her..

“And tell Master Randy why you’re my slave.” Mistress Karen urged.

“Because I’m a slut.” This was getting harder but I couldn’t disobey. I thought over the things Mistress Karen had said to me as I had hung from the trees.

“Because I’m a pain slut who is ruled by her pussy.” I continued.

“Uh-huh.” Mistress Karen admonished. “Slut’s don’t have pussies, they have cunt’s. Now let’s try again.”

“Because I’m a pain slut who’s ruled by her cunt.”

“And tell Master Randy who rules your cunt, who owns it.” Mistress Karen asked.

“You do, Mistress Karen. You own all of me.”

“And are you allowed any sexual release without my say so? Are you allowed to even touch yourself without my permission?” Mistress Karen’s questions were getting more intense.

“No, Mistress Karen, not without your permission, Mistress Karen.” This rule was new to me but, once she had asked the answer was obvious.

“And does it make your cunt wet knowing that I’m in control.”

“Yes, Mistress Karen, yes, it does.” My humiliation was complete but there was no way I could not reply.

“Open yourself up, show Master Randy how wet you are, how much your cunt drips with excitement just because I’m your Mistress. Use your left hand.”

I reached down as instructed and eased my lips apart. My cunt was, indeed, slick with my juices.

“Are you a good slave?” Mistress Karen enquired almost sweetly.

“Yes, Mistress Karen, I live to serve you.” The answers were coming easier now.

“Good girl. As a reward you may play with yourself but you’re not to climax. Do you understand.”

“Yes, Mistress Karen.”

If ever there was a potent symbol of my new existence this was it. I was kneeling with my knees wide apart, ordered to play with myself whilst others watched, unable to hide the depth of my lust or the strength of my arousal. I felt ashamed, I felt degraded, I felt humiliated but I couldn’t have stopped for all the world. To rub it in I had to be careful, I was so close to the edge and my fingers were pushing me closer. If I lost control I’d be letting myself down, letting Mistress Karen down and I’d surely be punished.

At the back of my mind a shocked voice still whispered. What sort of depraved slut gets off on masturbating openly in front of others. Had I no shame left, no sense of decorum? What would my mother say if she could see me? But I didn’t care, not any more, this was right, my Mistress had ordered it and the feelings from my groin, from my pussy, from my cunt, were a drug I would never give up.

Kelly returned with the coffee on a tray and set it down on a table.

“What's up with fuck cunt?” She asked. “Doesn't that horny cow ever stop?”

“She’s doing what she’s told.” Mistress Karen replied. “Something you have a lot to learn about and, as for ‘horny cows’, those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

“What do you mean?” Kelly asked uneasily.

“I brought my cell phone with me, God knows why, there’s no signal up here, but it does have a camera function. Just how much do you remember from last night?”

“I was pretty drunk.” Kelly laughed nervously, I could tell that her memory was patchy at best. “I guess I got pretty wild.”

“Perhaps you’d like to see just how ‘wild’ you got.” Mistress Karen’s voice was calm, even, but there was a hint of menace in the background. She picked up her cell phone and, after pressing various buttons, passed it to Kelly.

“Oh my God!” Kelly’s reaction showed she had no memory of just how wild she had become last night. I couldn’t see her face from where I was knelt but I knew her well enough to imagine the ashen look I’d seen before when she had messed up in a major way. Suddenly there was a scrambling from behind me and a ‘plop’ as something, presumably Mistress Karen’s cell phone, landed in the water butt.

“You stupid, stupid little bitch. You’re as dumb as you are predictable. Did you really think that I hadn’t thought of that, that I wouldn’t copy those pictures somewhere safe before I showed them to you. All you’ve achieved is to ruin an expensive cell phone, one that you are going to pay for.”

“But… but…” Kelly stuttered before making a dash for the porch steps. Steve, with a speed that belied his bulk, grabbed for her and brought her down with a crash.

“Pathetic, pathetic and immature.” Mistress Karen had got up and was now standing over Kelly. “Randy, do me a favour, will you. Fetch the training horse from the shed.”

As Randy disappeared to the shed to fetch the horse Mistress Karen knelt down and started to strip the clothes off Kelly who whimpered and squirmed about, trying to free herself from Steve’s grip. Mistress Karen stood up and fetched the leather strap from where it still lay on the table. She tugged down the back of Kelly’s sweatpants exposing her buttock and laid into them. A few quick slashes was enough to change Kelly’s whimpering to screams and then crying.

“Please, Karen, please, that’s too hard, I can’t take it that hard.” Kelly sobbed.

“Well, lie still and co-operate then.” Mistress Karen’s tone was harsh. “And, while you’re at it I suggest you think about how you address me.”

Kelly sniffed back her tears and lay still as Karen continued to strip off her sweatsuit and underwear. Randy retuned from the shed lugging the horse that I had been tied to the previous day.

“Hey, guys.” He called up. “What’s up with Bob? He’s all chained up in the shed and he’s not happy. I think he’s pissed himself, it smells like a sewer in there.”

“Don’t worry about Bob.” Mistress Karen replied. “He’s busy learning a few lessons about loyalty and he’ll have to wait where he is until I’m good and ready for him. Lying in his own pee for a while might help the lessons sink in.”

Randy struggled up the porch stairs with the horse and arrived, puffing gently, at the top. He dumped it down unceremoniously and collapsed back in his armchair. Mistress Karen and Steve lifted Kelly off the floor and manoeuvred her over the horse. Kelly tried to struggle a couple of times but Steve was too strong for her and, as each strap was tightened, her options became more limited. The tightening straps also seemed to awaken some sort of fear inside her as she started to whimper ‘Please, Karen, please don’t do this’.

As I had only been on the receiving end of the horse I hadn’t fully appreciated just what an open position it held the captive in. The widely splayed legs forced the victims legs similarly apart and focussed attention on the buttocks. The way that the unsupported head tended to flop down added to the depersonalisation; Kelly had become little more than a well spread pair of buttocks. I sneaked a quick look out of the corner of my eye and could well understand the temptation to add to the red stripes that the strap had already left across them. Randy obviously agreed, there was a bulge under the loose material of his sweatsuit and he was surreptitiously playing with himself whenever he thought no one was looking. I wasn’t surprised to find out that a coward like him was turned on when his victims were bound and helpless.

Once Kelly had been completely immobilised Mistress Karen sat back down and reached for her coffee cup which had been knocked over in the scuffle when Kelly had grabbed for the cell phone.

“fuck cunt! My coffee cup is empty. Stop diddling yourself and fetch me another.”

Still on my knees I picked up the empty coffee cup, put it on the tray and headed for the kitchen. As quickly as I could I rinsed the cup out whilst the coffee percolated and, finding all the relevant bits and pieces filled four cups ready to return. Then it struck me, I had no idea what any of them took in the way of cream and sugar. I briefly thought about bluffing but getting it wrong would be worse than admitting ignorance. Trembling slightly at the thought of what Mistress Karen was going to do to me I put the filled cups, the cream jug and the sugar bowl on the tray and returned.

When I got back to the porch Mistress Karen was deep in conversation with Mel. In her hand she held a riding crop and she was reaching out with it, using it to poke at Kelly’s pussy with the tip. I put the tray down and went over in front of Mistress Karen.

“Please, Mistress, your slave begs forgiveness but she doesn’t know how Mistress takes her coffee.” I said with a sinking heart.

“How many years have we worked together?” Mistress Karen asked.

“Five, Mistress.” I replied.

“Five years and you still don’t know how I take my coffee. That’s because you thought I was beneath you, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress, I’m sorry, Mistress.” Now I really was scared.

“But I’m not beneath you, am I?”

“No, Mistress, I am your slave, you humble slave and I was very wrong.”

“Very wrong, fuck cunt. We’ll discus later just how wrong you were. Cream, one sugar.”

I sorted out Mistress Karen’s coffee and went round the others checking their preferences. When I got to Randy it took a moment to catch his attention; he was fascinated by the sight of Mistress Karen using her crop to play with Kelly’s pussy and his hand was tucked inside the waistband of his sweatpants. It would seem that his penchant for anal sex, especially when the relevant backside was well constrained, was really getting to him. I could tell that he was dying to ask Mistress Karen’s permission to have a go but he was too scared of her to do so.

Once the coffees were distributed Mistress Karen ordered me to come over and kneel next to her in the gap between her armchair and Mel’s. She ruffled her fingers through what was left of my hair as if I were some sort of pet, an analogy which both chilled and thrilled me. It was a strange sensation, after years of long hair, to feel her fingers run unimpeded through the short tufts. All the while her conversation with Mel went on over my head.

“… so you’re not in it for the long haul then?” Mistress Karen asked, presumably about Kelly.

“No, I mean really, could you put up with her whining day in, day out. And there’s no challenge; she’s so suggestible that she’ll agree to anything just to be one of the gang.” Mel’s voice dripped contempt.

“Oh my God, did you see her last night with the strap-on?” Mistress Karen laughed.

“Yeah, real pathetic. She tries so hard and can’t realise that the harder she tries the more pathetic she looks. That’s why I won’t keep her. It’s not that I’d turn down a good little subbie but she’s so needy it’s pitiable. How’s she doing with the crop?”

Mistress Karen retrieved the crop and looked at the end.

“Looks like she’s loving it. Your turn?”

“Yes, please.” Mel stood up and went to stand behind Kelly, her hand reaching into her groin just as she had done with me. I could see the muscles of Kelly’s buttocks and upper thighs working; whatever it was that Mel was doing it was evidently pleasurable. Within moments Kelly was moaning and panting but her moans turned to squeaks turned to cries and suddenly she was screaming for Mistress Karen to stop. My own clit gave a sympathetic twinge as I remembered getting the same treatment yesterday.

“Please, Mistress Karen, I can’t take that. Please, I’m not a pain slut like fuck cunt.” Kelly sobbed once Mel had stopped and she had got her breath back.

Mel walked round the horse so that she was standing in front of Kelly and squatted down so that their heads were at the same level.

“It’s not Mistress Karen you need to be concerned about, it’s me. I’ll decide what you can and can’t take, your job is to lie there and take it.”

I couldn’t see Kelly’s face but I wished that I could. The realisation that she was Mel’s plaything must have hit her like a ton of bricks, it certainly affected her bladder; a stream of pee was flowing from her, trickling down the legs of the horse and dripping through the slatted wooden floor of the porch.

Mistress Karen laughed and stood up. “Come on, fuck cunt. It looks like Mistress Mel has things well under control here and you have lots to learn so you might as well start now.

She went into the cabin and I followed on my hands and knees. She led me into one of the rooms which was dominated by a huge bed. She sat down on the edge and I knelt before her.

“Have you ever pleasured a woman before? Yesterday with Kelly doesn’t count.” She asked.

“No, Mistress.” I replied.

“Do you know what to do?”

“I… I’m not sure, Mistress.” And I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t totally naive either, I understood the basic principles and I remembered what I had liked on the rare occasions boyfriends had done it to me but…

“Looks like I’m going to have to train you then; lets see how well you do. Take off my panties – with your teeth.” She added as I started to use my hands.

Gently so as not to damage the soft leather I eased her panties down and over her shoes. Then she lay back on the bed and I bent forward and kissed her pubic mound. I was overwhelmed by a sense of ‘rightness’, that this was where I belonged, on my knees in front of my Mistress serving her in the most intimate way possible. I wanted not just to pleasure her but to worship her and my gentle kisses reflected this. With the softness of butterfly wings I roamed across her lower belly and inner thighs. As I explored deeper and deeper between her thighs her warm musky smell told me that I was on the right tracks and I put it off no longer, I kissed the top of her labia and gently eased the lips apart with my tongue.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting; this wasn’t the first time I had tasted an aroused woman. Only yesterday Kelly had sat on my face and I had tasted my own juices on Mel’s fingers a short while before but Mistress Karen was completely different. I was somehow intoxicated, that my kisses, my tongue had made my Mistress’s juices flow like this. Gently, like easing the petals of a flower apart, I opened her vaginal lips searching deeper and deeper for the juices within. As my tongue reached the top of her inner lips my Mistress gave a shudder; almost inadvertently I had reached her clitoris, that little bud of pleasure, but, not wishing to rush things, I just gave it a few flicks of my tongue before returning to my explorations.

However, much as I wanted to explore I was drawn back, time and again, to her clitoris and each time I returned I lingered a little longer, gave it a few more flicks before withdrawing until I heard my Mistress muttering ‘If you don’t stop teasing soon I’ll whip you ‘till you bleed.’

I didn’t need any further urging and settled down to flicking at her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Knowing how sensitive I am down there I kept it very light but Mistress was soon urging me to go harder and harder. It didn’t need any great sensitivity to know that I was doing it right, I could feel waves of tension growing in Mistress’s thigh muscles, indeed it was growing in her whole body and I tried my best to follow these waves by varying the intensity of the flicking of my tongue. With each wave the passion was building, Mistress was thrusting her groin towards me, I was running out of breath trying to keep with her but I didn’t dare stop, I wouldn’t stop, I couldn’t stop until with an animal scream she climaxed, her whole body bucked once, bucked twice and she pushed me away, collapsing in a heap on the bed.

For quite a while there was silence, silence only broken by our respective heavy breathing as we both got our breath back. I was knelt on the floor, pretty sure that I had done Ok but still waiting on my Mistress, waiting on her approval. Eventually she rolled over and sighed deeply.

“Come here, fuck cunt, up here on the bed.” I got up and climbed onto the bed unsure what was required of me.

“Come on, lie down, here, next to me.” Mistress Karen patted the bed next to her and I lay down gingerly.

Mistress Karen leant up on one elbow and reached for my groin with her other hand, parting my thighs. Her fingers eased open my lips and toyed with me.

“Good girl, fuck cunt, very good girl. When you’ve been good, when you’ve pleased me, you’ll find that I’m not always cruel. Now, I’ve had my orgasm, does fuck cunt need to come?”

“Yes, please, Mistress.” Her skilful fingers had reawaken my passion, a passion which had never been that far suppressed.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I haven’t decided yet. After all, you were a naughty fuck cunt who couldn’t remember how I take my coffee. Does fuck cunt deserve to come?” Her fingers continued to tease and I was having difficulty controlling myself but I had the sense to spot the trick in the question.

“fuck cunt never deserves to come, Mistress. Her orgasms are a gift from you, a privilege I crave but I’m not worthy of.” I wondered if I had overcooked it but Mistress Karen’s widening smile reassured me.

“Indeed, fuck cunt, my gift given when I decide. Are you close to coming now?”

“Yes, Mistress.” I whispered.

“Then we’d better stop.” She took her hand from my groin and with a whimper I realised that, once more, I would be denied release.

“You said it, fuck cunt.” Mistress Karen continued. “Orgasms are a privilege I dispense when I see fit. If you’re good, if you behave impeccably, then I might let you come before the end of the day but I wouldn’t count on it. Now, go and fetch me a beer. I can’t lie about in bed all day; it’s time we found out how Mistress Mel is getting on with Kelly.”

I got up off the bed, curtsied to Mistress Karen and went off to fetch her beer.