Diane Blackmailed ch 01

by JustALittleRougher

Diane looked at the cup of coffee and sandwich in front of her. She knew she had to eat something but couldn't muster the energy. Her arms were limp and she could barely keep her eyes open. Three more hours to go. Three more hours until the workday ended and she might be able to go home. If they didn't call.

"Bates!" She jumped at the voice. It was her boss, Mr. Vader. She turned around in her seat, looked up at him.

"The Mitchell account. Did you finish the..." he paused, sniffed. Diane cringed, felt a flush of humiliation and felt her nipples swell at the same time. He wouldn't say anything, she knew that. They both knew that. When someone smelled sex in the air, nobody ever said anything.

"Did you finish the paperwork," he calmly continued.

"No...no, I haven't. I'll have it for you by three o'clock."

"Good. And this better be the last time." He gave her a crushing, condescending look and turned and walked away. Vader had never liked her since she transferred into his office just under two years ago and now he had reason to press harder. Her work over the last three weeks had been slipping, shoddy. She was scared, knew the end was coming. There was no way she could maintain all three of her lives at the same time, something had to give. And it would be her job, she knew that. It was the most expendable of the three.

She stood up and grabbed the coffee, gulped it down. If she couldn't eat, she could at least get by on caffeine. She threw the empty cup and the sandwich into the trash and walked down the hall back toward her office. Cubicle actually. He'd done that just last week. She was out on the floor now with the clerks and research team. The new man had her office, Vader's excuse had been that he needed the filing cabinets and wall space but she knew it was the beginning of her downward spiral.

Rodrigo, the man in the cubicle next to hers, watched her as she made her way down the hall. She'd done her best to scratch the dried cum off of her skirt and jacket but knew there would still be slightly darker spots. And her hair still smelled like sex if someone got close enough.

Monish had done that to her several times before, he obviously enjoyed it. After he and his gang used her all night, he'd drop her off outside her office building just ten minutes before the work day began. She'd barely have time to run into the lobby bathrooom and "freshen up" before she had to show up for her morning staff meeting. She'd stuff a wad of toilet paper into her panties to catch the steady stream of cum that was constantly oozing out of her, run some water over her face and through her hair, dry it under the hand-dryer, and do as much with her makeup as possible. Then, she'd give her clothing a once-over. There were usually dried spots of cum on her skirt, stockings, and jacket. Two of Monish's regular customers liked to fuck her with her clothes on and he usually let them have her first. She'd spend the rest of the night naked, or clad in latex, leather or lingerie, servicing the rest of whatever batch of thugs he'd lined up for the evening.

"Feeling OK?" Rodrigo asked. "You look a little shaky."

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she said, trying to be polite. She couldn't tell if he was being social or hitting on her and didn't care. The answer was "no". There was no space in her life for any more complication.

She made it to her desk and collapsed into her chair, put her head on her desk and immediately fell asleep.

"Bates. Bates."

Diane raised her head, felt a trickle of drool slip between her lips. Her eyes focused. It was Rodrigo.

"Vader's pissed. He..."

"Is the princess awake?" Vader yelled. Rodrigo lurched aside and jumped back into his cubicle.

Diane's eyes shot open and she looked at the clock. Five-twety-five. Oh, shit! Lars was coming at six. Vader stormed into the opening of her cubicle, filling the space with three-hundred pounds of angry black man. He waved a folder in front of her face.

"That's it! That is IT! I have had about enough of this. You've been milking this job since you got here, riding on your looks and reputation!"

"No, no, Mr. Vader, that isn't it, I..."

"I don't want to hear it." He crossed his arms. "Answer me one simple question. Is...the...Mitchell...paperwork...finished?"

Diane's eyes watered. Her life was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it. She flashed forward to six o'clock. Lars pulling up outside the building, the limousine that would take her to tonight's assignment waiting and stocked with booze and toys. Lars looking for her, looking at his watch, looking for her. Lars grinding his teeth, Lars considering what her punishment would be.

"N...nearly," she stammered, lying desparately.

"You said three o'clock. It is after five."

"Please, Mr. Vader, I am so tired. I haven't been sleeping well..." she scrambled, trying to find some kind of story that would make sense. But she saw the way he looked at her. His eyes measured her, head to toe and back again. Her rumpled clothes, the spike heels. Whatever he'd smelled earlier.

"I'll just bet you haven't," he spit out each word deliberately, each one cutting into her like a knife. "And what would you like me to do?"

"I...I just need," she pleaded, "ten more minutes, ten more minutes?"

"You can pull it together in ten minutes?" he laughed. "Oh, this I have to see." He let out another laugh and walked away.

Diane spun around, slammed keys on her computer. She took a copy of Mitchell's last statement and another she was working for another customer and merged some bits, producing a workable document. She'd been in the game long enough to keep a few templates around just in case and she prayed that it was good enough this time.

While she was typing, Rodrigo stuck his head over their shared wall. "How is it..."

"Shut up and leave me alone," she barked, then spun around. "I'm sorry, I'm just stressed. Let me get this done, OK?" He gave her an angry look and sat back down.

I've made another enemy, she thought, eyes welling up again. What if he finds out? What if... She pushed the thought out of her head and finished the paperwork, sent it to the printer. Then, she ran down the hall and grabbed it, stapled it together and ran to Vader's office.

"Here we go," she said in the most chipper voice she could muster. She dropped it on his desk and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" he barked.

"I...I have an appointment." Vader pointed at the chair opposite him.

"You sure do. With me. You know I don't send these out without a review."

"Oh, Mr. Vader, please, I have a very important..."

"More important than your job?" he shot at her. Diane collapsed into the chair. It was no use. She would be late for Lars. Unless she could push the review along. She thought about how to do that.

"I want our new guy to work on this with you." Vader hit a buzzer on his desk. "Bailey. In here. Now."

After a few seconds, the door opened. Diane froze. She recognized him. He'd been at one of Lars' events several weeks ago. She spun her head and looked at Vader. Did he know? Were they in on it together?

The man casually put out his hand and shook hers. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." The exact words he'd said at the party. The party where Lars had handed her over to him.

She'd been collared and leashed, Lars had introduced her and handed him the leash with instructions to use her however he saw fit and have her back in two hours. He'd taken her to the basement, secured her in a vertical spread-eagle, then proceeded to stripe her with a single-tail whip for nearly an entire half-hour. He spend the rest of his time alternating between fucking her and making her masturbate for him with a variety of devices.

Diane was frozen in her seat, throat tight and dry, unable to focus on anything the two of them were saying. They read through her abstract once, then stopped.

"Diane? Something to add?" Vader asked.

"No, no" she choked out. "I...just, would like us to move this along."

"Oh, please, don't hurry on my account," Bailey said. He looked Diane directly in the eyes and said, "I have nowhere to be anytime soon." A shiver went down her spine. She knew his game, even if Vader didn't  He wanted to make her late. Lars would have to punish her. And what better way to punish her than to turn her over to Bailey for a night. or a weekend. or forever?

She'd told Lars that Bailey scared her, he was too intense, she didn't know if he understood where the lines were. Something in his syes.

But, on the other hand, here he was. She was puzzled. Lars had to know he worked here. Had he arranged it? Had he set the whole thing up?

And what about Monish? Had Monish not been an accident? Monish had started blackmailing her the day after he'd fucked her in one of Lars' gangbangs. Someone had been careless and Monish had found her real name, her address, phone number. He'd showed up at her home the next day as she was leaving for work.  He and two of his men had taken her in a van, then drove out to the edge of the city to a large abandoned warehouse.

Monish showed her a handful of videotapes of her last several bondage and gangbang sessions. Then, he showed her a list of names - her family and friends - their addresses, photos, names of employers. They'd done their work quickly overnight, thanks to the Internet, most of it was easy to get to. Monish didn't have to say anything to her - it didn't matter if he threatened to harm them or to just expose her 'special' life with Lars, she knew she was theirs. He could destroy her life with just a few telephone calls or emails.

He also explained that he was completely willing to have Lars eliminated. He understood that Lars and his circle were just gamers, BDSM lovers who hooked people up after fairly extensive background checks. But the men he worked with were a different breed. Prostitution and white slavery were not even on the 'serious offenses' list for them. She was to do everything in her power to keep him unaware.

Monish and his crew hadn't used her hard that first day, but they had phoned her to service clients nearly every night after. He always staggered his sessions with Lars'. He clearly had someone on the inside who knew when Lars wanted her. Luckily, those parties were only once a week, sometimes twice. Monish was making a lot of money on those other nights. He used the videotapes of her as teasers for his clients, then provided the real thing to them when they came to town.

Diane didn't know it but she was being pimped out at over $2500 a session. The sessions usually lasted all night, An evening being 8p.m. till three or four in the morning. Monish understood the need for her to get at least some sleep. but he also understood the power of sleep deprivation.

Vader snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Are you with us, Ms. Bates?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I was concentrating on the Madison account."

"Mitchell."

"Yes, Mitchell."

Bailey leaned toward Vader slightly. "She looks a little tired. Why don't you let me take this home to review and we can talk about it in the morning." Vader looked at him. "After all, it is nearly six o'clock and the city gets interesting at about six," Bailed turned and looke at Diane, "doesn't it, Ms. Bates?"

Diane felt a rush of panic and nearly fell out of her chair. Her head bobbed slightly.

Bailey stood up and took her by the arm. "Why don't you let me walk you out of the building." She stood up, weak kneed and afraid. "Do you have a ride? Someone waiting to drive you home?" Diane's eyes turned and saw the look on his face..It was the look of a ravenous wolf, about to pounce on his prey.

,

...continued from ch 01...

Bailey stood up and took her by the arm. "Why don't you let me walk you out of the building." She stood up, weak kneed and afraid. "Do you have a ride? Someone waiting to drive you home?" Diane's eyes turned and saw the look on his face.  It was the look of a ravenous wolf, about to pounce on his prey.

She didn't dare confront Bailey directly, so she quietly nodded "yes" and walked with him to the door of Vader's office. Vader called, "Bailey, do you have a second?" Bailey stared at Diane and said "why don't you go get your purse?" She nodded obediently and he let go of her arm.

Diane walked to her cubicle on shaky legs. Rodrigo was still in his office, furiously punching numbers into his computer. "Everything OK?" he asked.

"Yes, fine. Listen, I'm sorry about earlier." She pushed the button that turned off her computer and reached for her purse. Rodrigo waved his hand. "No problem. Sounds like you're under a lot of stress."

"Things are tight right now, yeah. Thanks."

"Well, good luck and I'll see you in the morning." She nodded and thought, I hope so.

Diane walked back to Vader's office and saw the two men looking at a computer screen with a list of names and addresses. Vader noticed her and swapped to his screen saver. Bailey stood up.

"Well, I guess that's it for tonight," said Vader, turning back to his paperwork.

Bailey walked Diane to the elevator, holding her arm again in a firm but polite grip. He pressed the DOWN elevator button and they waited in silence. When the car arrived, he let her enter first, then stepped in behind her and turned around to face the doors. Diane felt sweat trickling down the sides of her neck, underneath her breasts. She was nervous and still exhausted from last night. And now, Vader and Bailey had made her late.

"Lars is downstairs." He said. She didn't respond. She knew he was. And she knew she would be punished for this.

Bailey pushed back the sleeve of his jacket, looked at his watch. "You've kept him waiting nearly twenty minutes." Bailey turned his head, just enough to catch her eye. "I don't think he will be very happy about that. He runs a pretty tight ship."

Diane swallowed hard. She knew that Bailey was right. Even though the relationship between her and Lars was consensual, he was a consummate player, he would have to act upset even if he was not. And he would have to punish her for not being on time. She felt herself getting slightly aroused at the idea.

"I wonder what would happen if you were to be even later than you are now?" Bailey said calmly. He reached out and pressed the STOP button. Diane felt her body jerk as the elevator froze. Her eyes widened with panic. Bailey flicked another switch and the room was plunged into darkness.

"Please," she whispered. He didn't respond. The elevator was silent for half a minute. Diane wrestled with herself. She knew what he wanted, but knew it would make her even more late. If she resisted, he could keep her there all night. But, if she surrendered so easily, it was practically like giving him a free pass. Anytime, anywhere. She heard him shuffle slightly. He could wait all night and they both knew it.

Damn it! she thought. She reached toward where he had been standing. He wasn't there. She sniffed the room, trying to catch his scent. There. She reached out to the right and felt his jacket. With a motion that was becoming more and more natural, she slid her hand across his body and found his zipper. She moved herself around in front of him and dropped into a squat, pulling his cock out of his pants and putting it into her mouth. He was already hard and she sucked him with quick, shallow strokes. She nearly lost her balance for a second as he restarted the elevator, but grabbed his pantleg with her free hand and steadied herself. Diane felt his hand on the back of her head, pushing her closer, burying his cock deep in the back of her throat and holding it there. She focused on holding her breath and swallowing slightly. It was a trick she'd picked up from a girlfriend and it usually worked.

The elevator bell dinged and she panicked - they had stopped at one of the floors. Anyone who got in would see her there, squatting in front of Bailey, sucking his cock. Maybe he would offer her to them. She heard the doors slide open, then a gasp from someone outside. A woman's voice.

"Take the next one," Bailey growled and she heard the doors slide closed again. He released her head and she drew back, took a deep gulp of air before he pushed himself back into her again. Diane moved her tongue along the bottom of his shaft, rocked her head back and forth and felt Bailey's body go rigid as he unloaded into her mouth. Diane gulped quickly, she couldn't afford to have anything new dripping onto her already-rumpled outfit.

"Good girl. And you lost only..." he looked at his watch "...another six minutes. My, I must have been rather horny today."

Diane stood up and said in a soft voice, "may I leave now?"

Bailey looked at her and pointed to his wrist. "It is now six twenty-eight. We may as well go for an even six thirty."

She felt anger mixed with resignation tugging at her gut. She wanted to slap him, hit him, but she couldn't. She was afraid, but that was not all. What if Lars had arranged this? What if it was part of tonight's game? Yes, that would make sense, she thought. Lars had set this up. It was probably Bailey's fantasy and Lars was making it happen. She felt herself getting wet, looked at Bailey again. He was hot, classically handsome in a jet-black hair and body-builder way. And his cock felt perfect in her mouth. She didn't like him, though. Especially after the way he'd treated her when Lars had given her to him for the first time.

Bailey reached out and let his hand rest on her right breast. He stroked it lightly, then slid his fingers underneath her business suit and found her nipple. He pinched hard. The room was deadly quiet. She could hear his breath, slow, even and calm. He pinched harder and her eyes watered. Harder and she felt her legs go weak. She fought an urge to raise her hand and push him away. If this was something Lars had arranged, it would be the wrong thing to do.

But what if it wasn't? What if this was something Bailey had arranged on his own?

A wave of pain flooded over her and she realized he was twisting. She looked at his face through her damp eyes. He wasn't smiling, just completely calm. His mouth moved and from far away she heard the words "six thirty", then his hand released her nipple and the elevator door opened. She looked and saw Lars leaning against a car outside the glass doors of the building. She stepped out of the elevator, then turned around to wait for Bailey. The door closed and she was alone.

---

"Where have you been?"

Lars dropped a cigarette to the sidewalk and crushed it with his shoe. He knocked on the hood of the car and the driver got out, walked around and opened up the back door.

Diane started stammering something about the last minute meeting with Mr. Vader but Lars interrupted her. "It doesn't matter. We're late and Johnny is going to be very upset." He climbed into the back of the limousine after her and slid a suitcase across the floor. It bumped her foot and she looked down at it. Jet black metal with silver clasps. A single letter J in bright red across the top.

"Get changed," he said, then reached into his pocket for his cell phone. Without looking at her, he started punching in a text message. Diane opened the suitcase and looked inside. A jockey suit. Or at least a sexed-up parody of a jockey suit. She lifted out the skintight tan pants and a black sleeveless jersey top. Underneath that were a billowy silk jacket, a helmet and goggles, gloves and a pair of knee-high black latex boots.

"No, there is no underwear," she heard Lars say casually. He hadn't lifted his eyes from the phone, was exchanging his third or fourth text message with someone. "And, put your hair up in one of the nets. Underneath the helmet."  He pointed at another bag, the brown one that he always seemed to have with him. She opened it up and found a simple black hairnet on top of a pile of other leather, rubber, and plastic devices. She picked it up and pulled it on, pushing her hair up underneath it. She stripped naked then started pulling on the pieces of the costume one by one.

Lars kept texting. "So, where were you?"

"Mr. Vader had a hot project." She pulled the top over her head, felt her big tits hanging free underneath the fabric.

"More important than us?"

She turned sideways and tugged on the yellow jacket. "No. I've made my commitment and I'm honoring it." She zipped it up, then backed the zipper down about six inches.

Lars laughed. "I know, I know. I'm just giving you a hard time. Tony's going to give me a hard time." He clicked SEND again then looked up at her. "Or, I should say, he is going to give YOU a hard time." Diane felt a rush of heat and dampness spreading between her legs. It was confirmed. She would be punished for being late.

She tried pulling on one of the boots. "Too tight." Lars reached for the heel and helped her. "I know." Diane smiled and pulled on the second boot. She felt sexy, alive and excited. Even without a mirror, she knew that she was a combination of exaggerations - a fetishist's dream. Her body was decent but not spectacular. Her breasts were oversized for her five-foot-eight frame and her ass was wide, but her waist was unnaturally narrow and that made all the difference. She wasn't the "long and lean" type of sexy, she was the "I'm built to be fucked hard" type of sexy. She felt her nipples stiffen and looked down between her legs. Sure enough, there was a small dark spot. She'd seen it before. She knew she's see it again. She was turned on by the thought of the men would be whipping, fucking, and using her tonight. She wanted to touch herself but knew not to. Showing up flushed from an orgasm would get her in even more trouble than being late.

"Dammit!" Lars barked, then punched another message into his phone. Diane watched puzzled, she'd never seen Lars lose his composure like that before. After a few seconds, his phone pinged again and he read the reply. He punched a short message, then set the phone down on the seat next to him. Lars looked up at her, his face serious. She'd seen him like this before. Usually, it meant that someone was planning something he considered either at or outside his own comfort zone. The things were not dangerous - he wouldn't allow that - but there were things that even he considered pushing the limits. He looked down at the phone, then at Diane again. He licked his lips, then pressed the button for the intercom.

"Driver? We have a change of destination." He punched a number into the intercom. "Very good, sir."

Lars sat back. He pushed the phone aside with his toe, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Diane sat quietly, tense but excited. He rubbed his eyes hard with his knuckles, then sat up, leaned forward and took her hands.

"Diane, I am going to do everything I can to make sure..." he paused. She saw his eyes, saw that his mind was racing. She felt herself getting nervous, tried to fathom what was bothering him. They'd been through a lot together and for something to make him hesitate scared her. But it turned her on. She'd always got to the boundaries quicker than he did, it was his protective instinct.

He lowered his eyes slightly, stared at her mouth, at her chest, at the damp spot in her crotch. She felt his thumbs making small circles on the back of her white-gloved hands. His eyes moved back and fixed on her mouth. Her lips were slightly open, slightly engorged. She was aroused and he knew it.

They stayed like that for the rest of the ride. When the car stopped, he released her hands and handed her the goggles. She put them on. They were painted black, she couldn't see anything through the lenses. She heard the door open and felt him put the helmet on her head. He fastened the chin strap and tugged it tight. She felt someone outside the car take her hand and she slid toward the open door.

As she swung her leg outward, she felt Lars' hand on her knee. "Things have changed just a little bit." He removed his hand. "It's better if you don't know."

---to be continued---

...continued from Chapter 2...

As she swung her leg outward, she felt Lars' hand on her knee. "Things have changed just a little bit." He removed his hand. "It's better if you don't know."

==========

Diane felt herself getting more and more nervous as she was led through the house and down a flight of stairs. The two men escorting her talked casually about this weekend's basketball game, ignoring her completely. When they reached the bottom of the steps, they stopped. She heard metal grating against metal, then the men moved her forward again. They descended another flight of steps. That surprised her - a two-level basement?

She felt a chill against her face and smelled dampness in the air. When they got to the bottom of the steps, she felt the ground soft underneath her boots. Where were they? She wanted to ask but knew that she was expected to remain silent. It had become second nature after her first few punishments for speaking out of turn.

They stopped again. She smelled something new in the air. A musky smell she recognized instantly - sweat and leather. It excited her. She remembered how often she'd smelled this way during a session.

The sound of metal clicking - someone was unlocking a door. Hinges grating and sounds from inside another room. Men's voices talking quietly, a glass clinking against a table. And heavy breathing.

Her escorts walked her toward the sound of the breathing. She recognized it. Someone close to orgasm. A man. Something in his mouth muffled the sound, but it was definitely a male voice. The smell of sweat got stronger. Someone pushed their toe into the back of her knee and she knelt obediently. Reflexively, her hands crossed at the small of her back. She heard the man's breathing stop and a low moan escape his throat. Then, the unmistakable sound of a flogger cracking against flesh. He grunted and she felt a breeze as one of his legs moved near her cheek.

Two hands grabbed her head and gently pushed her face forward until she felt her nose press gently against the base of his cock, her lips brushing his balls. He moaned and she heard the flogger hit him again.

"Go on, do what you can to make him feel better," she heard a jeering voice. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, licking the soft flesh and thick hair. He moaned and they continued hitting him. She felt his cock twitching against her nose, banging her forehead. Diane opened wide and took both of his balls between her lips and into her mouth, letting them roll on her tongue. She felt his thighs quiver. From the flogging or from her mouth?

After a few seconds more, Diane reached for him with her gloved right hand. She slid her hand down his shaft and he came immediately, spurting cum onto the helmet and goggles and all over her hand. He groaned loudly and pushed his crotch hard against her face. She gently sucked his balls, pushing her tongue between them, milking him with her hand. She felt his body go limp and fall backward against the wall.

The flogging stopped. The room was quiet except for the man's rapid and shallow breathing. Diane pulled her head back and licked his shaft clean, then the tops of his thighs. He moaned and rocked his hips side to side. When she was finished, she leaned back on her heels and crossed her hands at the small of her back again.

"Excellent. Excellently done, Diane." She recognized the voice, it was John. "A true whore knows how to behave even without being given instructions." She felt hands touching her shoulders, he was standing behind her.

"Now, Carlos is going to repay you." She heard shuffling and the sounds of metal buckles being undone. Carlos was being freed. But for what? Leather creaking and bodies moving. The hands on her shoulders massaged her gently, she let herself relax. Whatever was coming up, she knew she would like it. This was the consensual group, the ones she's sought out, the ones she had an agreement with. Not like Monish's group. Monish had been in a session with her, but found out personal information and was blackmailing her. Nobody in this group - Lars' group - knew about it. And it had to remain that way. Monish had threatened Lars' life if she told him.

Diane worked hard to push Monish out of her head and focus on what was going on. She felt herself lifted up by two men and carried across the room. Then, she was lowered onto what felt like a saddle. She was about three feet off the ground - her feet didn't touch the floor - and from the leather smell and the feel inside her thighs, it was a saddle, the smaller English style. She smiled. Black leather. It figured.

"Carlos will carry you around the room. Any man who wants to use your mouth needs only to let Carlos know and you will be delivered to him." Diane flinched, realizing what this meant. Carlos had been saddled and she was riding him. This was something new for her.

"Let's see what she has to keep us interested." She felt John's hands on her, unzipping the jacket. "So that we will want her to suck our cocks." He pulled it off of her and stepped back. "We all enjoy watching your big titties bounce, don't we?" She took the clue and jiggled them for him. The fabric felt good against her skin and her nipples stiffened. She started getting turned on and looked forward to having cock in her mouth.

"We have one more treat for you." Diane felt the saddle start to vibrate. They'd constructed a fiendish Sybian type device for her. She remembered her weeks and weeks of training on the device and knew she wouldn't last long. It had been one of the earliest things they'd done to her, masturbating her for hours on end with that and other devices. She couldn't even look at a vibrator in the drug store without feeling her cunt gush. Early on, she'd been embarrassed to cum in front of them, now she craved it.

For the next two hours, Diane rocked back and forth on the saddle, alternately cumming and sucking but often doing both. They broke the action at ten o'clock and all relaxed, Diane and Carlos lying side by side, still in the center of the floor, sipping ice water while Lars and the others planned out the rest of the evening.

----

Diane heard the alarm clock buzz and rolled over on her side, groggy and disoriented. She opened her eyes. It was five o'clock, something was wrong. She'd got home from Lars session last night at eleven thirty, taken a hot shower and set the alarm clock for seven, looking forward to her first full-night's sleep in a long time.

Maybe she'd made a mistake, pressed the wrong buttons. She could reset it. Diane reached for the lamp on the nightstand, turned it on. The light flooded the room and she jerked up. Monish was sitting on a chair beside her bed, two of his henchmen standing behind him. The chair was turned backward and he was resting his head on his folded arms.

"Ah, you're awake."

Diane panicked. She knew that he knew where she lived, he'd snatched her outside her house that first time, when the blackmail started, but he'd never been inside. Or had he? She thought hard for clues over the last weeks - had there things out of place, doors left open or closed? She couldn't think clearly though. The point was, he was there now. And not alone. Her mind raced. How many people knew where she lived? How many of his men had keys?

"I hear you have a meeting at nine. That's nice, that gives you plenty of time. I have a reallyredheads loaded client at the Sheraton on Fifth street who likes to torture titties on big busty redheads about five-eight." Monish pulled a red wig out of a bag and threw it onto the bed. "You'll do." He threw a key and a piece of paper with an address on the bed. "He's already paid. You can take a tip." The three of them got up and left the room.

She stared at the wig. Tit torture? Was he kidding? She'd been through so much with Lars over the last years that she wasn't afraid. She was more afraid of missing the meeting. It was a big client they'd been doing work for over ten years. He was considering moving his accounts to another agency and she would be the one making the pitch for their team. She needed a full night's sleep and some prep time. But it wasn't going to happen. Monish wouldn't let it.

She got up and took a quick shower, then pulled on a one piece black dress and black panties. If he wanted titty, showing up naked would be best. Especially with her D cups. Diane calculated that if she could show him a good time in under an hour, she could be changed and in the office by eight, which would still give her time for a cup of coffee and some preparation.

She laid her business suit in a carry-on bag along with a change of underwear and shoes. Five twenty. Great. The hotel was a twenty minute drive, park, walk, elevator to the room...her brain worked quickly as she walked to the car. The plan still left plenty of time. She unlocked the car and headed toward the freeway. That would be the quickest way to the hotel. She shook her head, amazed that she was taking it to calmly. Was she adjusting to this life? To being Monish's call girl? She turned on the radio, listened to the weather report and the local news. More budget cuts, more controversy, rain coming.

The exit was coming up and she changed lanes, saw the familiar big S of the building just past the off ramp. She looked at the drive-through coffee kiosk and though about grabbing a quick cut but didn't want to risk her schedule.

The valet was standing at the front door, she decided that the few dollars were worth the few extra minutes she would save not walking across the parking lot. She got out, noticed his eyes locked on her chest as her tits shifted and swung under the thin material. She grabbed the envelope with the address and room key, handed him her car keys and walked toward the front door. Just as the driver pulled away, she caught her reflection in one of the lobby mirrors. The skirt was short, sleeveless and lowcut and she showed a lot of flesh. Her lips were a burgundy red and her hair...Diane panicked. She'd forgotten the wig!

She felt her entire plan collapse, she would miss the meeting, she would be fired. She went weak and nearly collapsed to the floor. She dropped to one knee and the bell captain rushed to help her stand up. "Are you OK?" She turned to him, fear in her eyes and said, trembling "I need my car back, I just had the valet take it but I need it back! Now!" She ran to the door and looked in the direction he had driven.

"Ma'am, the lot is only a few blocks away. He should be back in two or three..."

"I don't have that much time! Is there a taxi?" Her eyes were wide and her pulse was racing. Two or three minutes to walk back, then another two or three to go back to the car.

"I assure you, he will..."

She ran toward the curb, waved her arm at the taxi driver leaning against his car. "Quick! Quick!" she yelled. He turned his head, took a draw from a cigarette and asked "Where you going?"

"Just get in the fucking car, I need to get home! Now!" The man didn't move. He was looking her up and down, sized her up as a whore coming off of a trick and needing a ride back to her pimp's place.

"Home?" he asked, sarcastically. The bell captain walked up behind her and said, "is there something I should know?" Diane was trembling now with anger and fear. She said to the driver as casually as she could, "I need a ride. Sorry, I"m just in a really big hurry. I have to get home and change to get to a meeting...I was out a little late last night..."

The bell captain looked at her. "But you just gave your car to the valet. You just got here." The driver stepped around the car and stood beside her, his eyes on her chest. "Yeah, honey, what's the story here?"

"I...just need a ride," she said feebly, lowering her head and trying hard not to cry.

The driver chuckled and tapped the bell captain on the shoulder. He raised his head and saw that the driver was pointing at Diane's empty hands. "No purse. How you gonna pay for the ride?"

The bell captain asked for the envelope. She handed it to him meekly. He opened it, saw the room number and single key. "I think we know what's going on here." He turned to Diane. "Don't we?"

The driver laughed. "What happened, someone change his mind?" The bell captain nudged him. "Or were you going home to pick up some toys you forgot to bring?"

Diane was trapped and knew it. Her situation was hopeless, her mind spun. They could call the police if they wanted to, turn her in for solicitation. She could offer the men sex, she could steal the taxi, she could go upstairs and try to please the man who wanted a redhead. She felt herself going weak again with despair.

"Ma'am, here's the claim check." She turned and saw the valet holding a small yellow ticket. The two men looked at him. The taxi driver mumbled "fuck" and the bell captain waved his hand and walked back into the hotel. Diane wiped her eyes and told the man to bring her car around. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

In five minutes, she was back on the freeway, racing for home. She ran in and grabbed the wig, ran back out and rushed to the hotel. Over an hour lost and she wasn't even in the room being abused yet.

=====

Diane bit her lip hard and squirmed against the ropes. She held her breath but it didn't help. Curtis was good. When he let go of the weight, the pain was too much and she let out a small yelp of pain.

"Sit still, I want another picture," he said. Diane tried to keep her body from trembling but it was impossible. She looked at herself in the mirror behind the tripod. She was tied to a wooden chair, legs wide apart, ankles crossed and tied between the legs of the chair. Her arms were tied behind her as well and there were coils of rope wrapped around her waist, then just above and below her tits. He'd pulled the wig off as soon as she came through the door, it was obvious and he was angry. But he was also impatient. He'd put it back on her, but rearranged it the way he liked, hanging down to cover most of her eyes, the rest pulled back into a pony tail. He's stuffed a pillow between her shoulders which made her push her chest out forward obscenely, her body straining against the ropes and tits hanging free.

His approach was elegant and simple. He'd attached a pumping device to her breasts and let it run for ten minutes. During this time, he's taken a series of pictures, moving around her with a digital SLR, capturing her face, her breasts, her upper body.

After ten minutes, her nipples were swollen and engorged with blood. When he removed the cups, just a touch of his finger made her gasp with pain. He'd flick them with one hand and shoot another photo with the other.

Then, he pulled each of her nipples between his finger and thumb and attached a series of three rubber-tipped spring clamps in a straight line across each one, the center one on the nipple, the other two directly beside. It was the most intense pain she could remember and she could tell that he was just getting started. Curtis touched each of the clamps in series, moving the pain across her chest left to right, right to left.

He stepped back and set his camera on a tripod, then pressed a button that made the camera snap nonstop. He continued flicking and pulling the clamps while the camera documented her agony. Then, he stopped the camera and carefully ran a piece of twine through the springs of each set, tying them in a small loop that hung free beneath each tittie.

"Now, we are starting to feel something like pain," he said, tugging the strings tight with his fingers. Diane leaned forward, trying to move with him, but he was always a step ahead, tugging to the side or up and down, always just out of reach. She was panting hard now and starting to swim into her private subspace. She was scared because she knew that if she did that, she would lose any sense of time or place and her meeting wouldn't matter. Nothing would matter, only letting her body respond to the arousal she was feeling from the pain.

Curtis rested for a minute, walking across the room to his luggage and removing a small case. He sat it on the nightstand in front of her. It was a variety of weights, each with a small hook attached. She groaned.

"Ah, you know, then, do you?" He ran his finger along the top of the selection. They ranged from 2 ounces to 10 ounces. Curtis reached for a six ounce and hung one from each piece of twine. Diane nearly fainted from the pain. He swung them side to side, finger wiping tears from her eyes. He put the damp finger between her legs, touching her clit lightly. She felt her cunt swell and a fresh wave of pain as her nipples stiffened.

Curtis took more pictures, then attached two more 6 ounce weights. "Shake them for me," he commanded. Diane moved her shoulders and her breasts swung gently side to side, the pain roaring through her brain and blocking out everything else. She felt something change and opened her eyes. Curtis had placed his hands underneath the weights and lifted them. He was raising and lowering them slowly, never letting the strings go tense.

"No, no, no," she pleaded. He leaned forward and put his mouth against hers. She reflexively opened her lips and offered him her tongue. He pushed into her mouth, she kissed him hard and passionately, hoping to distract him but knowing all the time the odds were against her. Fetishists were not easily distracted. She sucked his tongue and heard him start to moan. Maybe he was going to cum. She moaned and squirmed in the chair, knowing he would hear it.

He pulled back slightly. "You're getting hot, aren't you?" She froze, she knew the tone in his voice. She'd miscalculated. He wasn't getting close at all, he was getting her closer. He was too damned good to be fucking around with Monish. She felt his free hand between her legs, touching her clit, massaging her helpless body toward the edge.

She whimpered, "please, please, let me suck your...ARRRRHHHHH!!!!" she screamed as he turned his palm and the weights dropped free. But she saw his face and quickly looked at his hand. It was down the front of his pants. He'd cum too, unloaded into his hand just at the moment he'd dropped the weights.

Curtis stood up and said loudly, "I'm finished." He picked up his camera and tripod just as the bathroom door opened. Two of Monish's thugs walked out. Curtis nodded at one of them and they walked to Diane and began to untie her.

===

Diane pushed the elevator button, pushed it again harder, rammed it over and over with her finger. Panic flooded through her. The panel on the wall was lit up showing the floors the elevators were on. They were all standing still, frozen in time, taunting her, teasing her. She clutched the folder to her chest and shoved her thumb at the UP button again.

She'd come too far to let the elevator make her late. After she was untied, she'd ran to her car to get her clothes, back into the hotel to change in the lobby bathroom, cleaned up as well as she could, and raced to the office. It was five minutes before nine, no time to review the presentation, no time for breakfast, no time to go over the tactical plan with Mr. Vader before the meeting.

"Diane, it's fine." She heard Bailey's voice behind her and froze. What was he doing here? Had he followed her? She turned around. He looked at her, smiled. "You look like you need this." He was holding two cups of black coffee, offered one to her. She took it but didn't drink. His smile scared her, there was something evil behind it but she didn't know exactly what. His face was perfect, clean-shaven and handsome, his suit light grey and impeccable. Even his tie was perfection.

"I took the liberty of moving the meeting to nine-thirty."

"You what??"

He raised his hand. "Nothing to worry about. I know you like to be early for these kinds of things, to be prepared. When I saw that you weren't in the office at eight, I called and pushed back the meeting. Blamed it on a computer problem. Everything's fine. I even talked to Vader." He lifted the cup to his lips and blew, then took a sip. "Of course, he wants me in on the meeting now." He took another sip of coffee. "You and me may even split the commission."

Her head was swimming. Was he after her job too? Did he expect her to be grateful that he'd changed the meeting time? Was she supposed to offer herself to him as a 'thank you'?

The elevator door opened and they pushed in ahead of a dozen other riders. She felt Bailey pressed up against her as they rode upward. He didn't touch her but she was on edge the entire ride.

When they got off of the elevator, she went to her office to try and pull herself together. She took off her shoes and leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes. Her attention went straight to her tities. Her nipples were still sore and tender, she'd felt them every step of the way down the hall, felt them now. Worse, when she felt the pain, she felt her nipples stiffen, pushing against the bra and starting the cycle all over again. Pain, arousal, pain, arousal. She wanted to touch herself, get off just once before the meeting to clear her head, but she knew better. Mr. Vader had already given clues that he could smell arousal on her, she didn't need that.

Vader. She looked at the clock, it was nine-fifteen. She still had time for a pre-meeting pow wow with him to talk strategy. She slid into her shoes and headed down the hall. As she passed the conference room, she froze. Vader was already there. So was the client's entire team. They were sitting at the long table, briefcases opened, papers spread out, coffee and water poured. Bailey was wrong. And she was late. Diane felt her gut twist. She'd been on the floor at nine o'five, just a few minutes late, but she'd spent ten minutes in her office swimming in a trivial sexual fantasy while the clients and Vader waited and stewed.

Vader looked up at her and she panicked. His face was calm but she could read his real reaction in his eyes. He motioned to her but she shook her head. She didn't have her papers with her, she'd have to go back to her office. Another delay. Another example of her performance slipping. Her thought scurried in her head - could she get through the meeting without her papers? Did Vader have copies? She didn't remember. She never fucked up so bad, she always had the details nailed before.

"You left this in your office." She heard Bailey's voice behind her and turned around. He was holding her folder in his hand.

"What happened?" she asked. Bailey gave her a puzzled look. "I don't know, Vader said he had it under control." He looked into the room, saw Vader's face. "You'd better get in there."

She took the folder, whispered a grateful, "thanks, I owe you one," cringed at how obvious that must have sounded and went into the room.

Vader made apologies for her without asking her anything, then said he would continue with the background review, then turn the floor over to her for their future plans. Diane smiled, nodded at her counterpart on their team, and sat down. As Vader stepped to the whiteboard, Diane opened her folder. Her face went white. The white piece of paper had a single sentence typed in uppercase: DIANE - PARTY PHOTOS. She could barely see the first 8X10 through the white paper, Diane on the bed and a line of men standing nearby. She didn't need to thumb through the stack to guess what the rest of the photos were.

Diane did her best to appear casual as she closed the folder, but inside, she was shrinking. Bailey had set her up. He'd lied to her about the time of the meeting, then handed her the wrong folder. No, the right folder but the wrong contents. That means he'd gone into her office, picked up the folder, switched out the photos for her notes, and followed her down the hall. Everything he'd done this morning had been calculated. How did he know? Was he in with Monish? Was he part of the blackmail chain?

"Ms. Bates?" The client's marketing manager called her name. "Ms. Bates?" Diane pulled her focus into the room and looked at the woman. "Did you consider that?" Diane's head spun, she hadn't heard anything that Vader or their team had said. She looked at Vader. He nodded slightly toward the board. He'd written the word "language?" next to one of his bullet points. Language? Did that mean language translation, casual versus formal language in their ads, the language to print the instruction manuals and annual statements?

She took her best guess, tried to keep it general. "Yes, we will take languages into account." Several heads in the room turned to look at her. Vader lowered his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"No, Ms. Bates, the question was whether or not our legal teams would be able to agree on language for the ongoing website support." She turned around in her chair, clearly disgusted.

Vader jumped in to rescue the exchange, finished his part of the presentation, then excused himself and made a phone call. Two minutes later, Bailey came into the room carrying a manila folder. Vader introduced him and said he would run through the future proposal for them. Diane was stunned. Bailed opened the folder and pressed the NEXT button on the projector. Diane sat frozen as he proceeded to give her presentation. She looked at the table and saw that the folder contained her original notes, including her handwritten comments.

Bailey was excellent, he'd obviously prepared well and Diane knew that he'd given the presentation as well as she would have. Vader took over again and handled the rest of the meeting himself, did everything he could to smooth out the bumps. Diane looked at Bailey several times but he was calm and focused on Vader. Bailey and Vader shook hands with the team as they filed out of the room an hour later. Bailey followed the team to the elevator. Vader said to Diane without turning around, "I'll copy you on the meeting notes." He turned the corner and walked to his office.

Diane laid her head down on the table. It felt good. Cool and firm. The meeting had been a disaster. Vader had fielded every question they'd asked her, even when she was ready to answer. And any he didn't handle, he passed to Bailey. She'd been completely useless at the meeting. She sat up and looked at the folder. Photos. Her head spun again. If Bailey had them, he wasn't the only one. How many photos of her were out there? Circulating around Bailey's circle of friends? Circulating around the Internet? How long would it be until someone saw them, made the connection?

Weak with defeat, she got up and started back toward her cubicle. She saw Rodrigo walking toward her with coffee and smiled weakly. He said, "hi," but went straight into his own cube. She sat down in her chair, looked at the computer monitor, couldn't muster the energy to turn it on. She opened her desk drawer and took out a large envelope, looked around to make sure nobody was nearby, and slid the photos out of the folder and into the envelope. She sealed it, wrote her name across the front and tucked it back into the folder. She would get rid of them later. Not that it mattered, she thought.

Diane thought, coffee. Some caffeine to clear her head. She stood up and started walking toward the small kitchen on their floor. It would take her past Bailey's desk but that didn't matter. She needed to wake up. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked down the aisle, focused on the doorway. When she turned into the kitchen, she saw that Bailey was sitting at a table with Rodrigo. They were talking about something but stopped when she walked in. She felt her stomach drop - were they talking about her?

Diane casually waved hello, they both nodded. She poured herself a cup of black coffee, poured in two packets of sugar and walked out. Vader was standing in the hallway, hands on his hips, staring her way. She froze and he stomped toward her, an angry bull roaring down the hallway. She could see the veins in his temples and a piece of paper in his hand.

"Who the hell is Monish?" he growled, his face inches from hers.

"I...I...don't know..." she stammered. How did he know about Monish? Was her there? She looked around the floor but didn't see anyone standing.

He shoved the piece of paper at her. "I am NOT your personal secretary and I do NOT ever want to hear from him again, do you understand that? How the hell did he get past the front desk? Who is he? And who is Curtis?"

She lifted the paper and looked down at it. Vader had written, "Curtis. At one."

"I do not want to be in the circle with your personal phone calls. And I do NOT want to know what this is about. This Curtis and Monish thing. I want two things from you, Bates, can you do that? I want you to get our act together, you were miserable this morning, a complete failure. Bailey had to pull it out of the fire. You can thank him for that later. And, I want to see the updated proposal by nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Can you handle that?"

Diane nodded, "yes, yes, Mr. Vader. I'm sorry, I..." He held up his hand. She watched him as he took three slow breaths, closed his eyes. "I'm very disappointed and I am very confused. Why this Monish person would be calling me to give you a message is disturbing but as I said, I don't want to know. Just make sure it doesn't happen again." Diane nodded. "And why don't you take a few hours, take a long lunch, unwind, get back into the game. I will have my notes to you by two and you can work on the proposal later today."

If I am not out fucking strangers and making money for Monish, she said in her head. "Yes, sir," she said out loud, "I'll get my head back in the game. It's been a bad..." He raised his hand again. "Listen, no explanations. We've worked together a long time, I know you'll come through." She saw the look in his eyes. Even with her recent slump, their history was carrying her. For a while.

===

Diane got off the elevator on the first floor of her building and walked to the coffee stand. It was twelve o'clock, the note said to see Curtis at one. The problem was, she didn't know for sure where. She assumed he would be in the hotel, in the same room. But that meant she'd have to walk past the bell captain yet again. When she'd come back earlier, he's watched her walk across the lobby to the elevators, the red wig hadn't thrown him off at all. Her clothes were the same and besides, it was her body he'd focused on anyway. Now, if she came back, he'd spot her again and there would be very little question about why she was there. He'd certainly seen his share of call girls come and go, another new one on the beat wouldn't be much of a surprise. Maybe he was even in with Monish. She felt herself just a bit more miserable realizing she'd never know who was on what team from now on.

She paid for the coffee and turned to walk toward the parking garage but two men walked up to her, one standing on either side, and told her to follow them. She didn't recognize them, but was sure Monish had sent them. They had that kind of vibe.

They walked her out of the building and a few doors down the street to a hairdresser. One of them went inside and talked with the receptionist. The one who stayed with her put his arm around her waist. "You were a pretty good fuck the other night," he whispered into her ear. "I really liked your tight little ass." She didn't respond, she was starting not to care. Another anonymous face in one of Monish's gangbangs. It didn't matter to her anymore.

"Do you know why you're here?" She shook her head. "Curtis is very upset that Monish sent him a girl with a wig." She anticipated where he was going, looked around for a way to run. "We're going to remedy that. He wants a redhead, he gets a redhead."

"I'll never make it by one," she protested, her voice between a whine and a plea.

"Not my problem," the man said.

"Is he at the same place?" she asked. "It's fifteen minutes from here, we'll never make it. Monish will be upset at you."

The man laughed and squeezed her waist tighter. "No, honey. Monish won't really care. Curtis, on the other hand, will not be too happy. He may go a little rough on you." Diane trembled at the idea that Curtis thought he'd been going easy on her the first time.

"By the way, since Curtis had to stay an extra day, the hotel room is going on your credit card." Diane looked into her small purse, her wallet was still there. The man laughed. "We've had your card numbers for weeks, we don't need the car. It's all electronic, honey. Get used to it."

The door swung open and the second man motioned for Diane to enter and follow one of the hairdressers, a man in his early twenties.  He looked her up and down and gave her a sneer. She wondered what they'd told him. How she'd been described. Bored housewife? Hooker? Whore? Slave? Who knew? Who cared?

"Now, this is going to burn," he said before they reached the chair. "You are *evidently* in a hurry so I will have to skip the preparation and go right to the dye. Sit." He pushed her into a chair and tilted it back quickly. She nearly lost her balance and fell out. He sprayed her hair and shampooed her quickly and roughly. Then, he threw her a towel and walked out of the room. She jumped up and followed him.

He was right about it burning. She'd dyed her hair before but this was nothing like that. She didn't know what he used, couldn't imagine it was sold over the counter, but he slathered it onto her head, massaged it in with rubber gloves, then immediately started combing it out. Her eyes teared up and she bit her lip to stop from screaming. It felt like an acid bath, the chemicals searing her head at the base of each hair.

"Ten minutes," he said and walked out of the room. Monish's two thugs came in and stood one on either side of her. One of them grabbed her left breasts and squeezed it. "Yummy melons," he laughed. The other one slapped him in the back of the head. "Grow up!"

"By the way," he leaned and whispered in her ear. "You're paying for this too." His partner chuckled and took a credit card out of his pocket, flicking it with his thumb. "And for our lunch. We may even fill the tank, it was long drive over here." Diane wasn't even listening, just concentrating on her burning scalp.

===

"Ah, now this is more like it." Curtis held the door of the hotel room open and invited Diane in. She stepped through and turned her head, looking around the room. When she saw the array of devices laid out on the bed, she froze.

---to be continued---

"By the way," he leaned and whispered in her ear. "You're paying for this too." His partner chuckled and took a credit card out of his pocket, flicking it with his thumb. "And for our lunch. We may even fill the tank, it was long drive over here." Diane wasn't even listening, just concentrating on her burning scalp.

===

..continued from Ch 03...

===

"Ah, now this is more like it." Curtis held the door of the hotel room open and invited Diane in. She stepped through and turned her head, looking around the room. When she saw the array of devices laid out on the bed, she froze.

"A redhead. Maybe not a true redhead, but a redhead nonetheless," Curtis droned. "Monish knows how to keep the customer satisfied, doesn't he?" He slapped his hand across Diane's chest left to right, then right to left. She cringed. Her nipples were still sore from this morning and he'd made sure to connect with them. "Do you know how to keep the customer satisfied, cow?"

Diane marshaled her strength. From what she'd seen this morning, the only way to deal with him was directly. "I want you to hurt me, Curtis."

He cupped her tits in his hands and lifted them gently. "Oh, you will get what you want. But, you didn't answer the question. Is this how you keep the customer satisfied? By showing up twenty minutes late?"

He was right, she'd been late. The hairdresser had insisted on blow-drying and styling her hair, then she had to change out of her work clothes and into the new outfit Curtis had sent. It was a simple cotton camisole dress, a light lavender color, low cut and very short. She spilled out of the top and her ass was barely covered by the bottom and she knew it. Monish's men had allowed her to wear a white lacy thong and sandals, but other than that, she'd been paraded through the beauty salon, the streets, and the lobby of the hotel feeling more naked than if she were. But all of that preparation had taken time.

"Curtis," she said, moving closer to him and touching his arm. "I took extra time to prepare myself for you." She ran her fingers up the back of his forearm, nails gliding over his skin. "Now, admit it, don't you like the idea of me walking through the hotel looking like this?" She gently jiggled her D cups and saw that his eyes were fixed on them. "Knowing that I was on my way to see you? To let you do whatever you want with them?" She leaned close and kissed his neck, nibbled gently at the scrawny neck. She saw him looking at her and knew it wasn't working. He had his own mission in mind and she was not going to distract him. She was embarrassed by her obvious attempt and stepped back. Time to try another tactic.

With a single motion, she pulled the dress over her head and dropped it to the floor. Then, she grabbed her nipples with her fingers and pulled them away from her body as hard as she could, letting out a gasp. "Curtis, Curtis..." she moaned. Curtis crossed his arms and stood staring at her.

Diane twisted her nipples, opened her mouth, trying to put on a show for him that would make him lose track of his plan, maybe cum in his pants again, cut short the session. She pinched harder, pulled at herself, watched his face. He was stoic, just stared at her. Diane's plan was backfiring. She felt her cunt twitching and swelling, she was turning herself on more than him. She wanted to reach out and grab him, pull him down on her, get his cock inside of her, but she knew he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't fuck her, he just wanted to hurt her.

"Are you about finished?" Curtis asked calmly. Panting slightly, Diane let go of herself and stood straight up. "Yes. Yes, Curtis. I await...your pleasure." She felt stupid saying it, but was still trying to do everything she could to minimize his end of the game.

Curtis walked around the bed, stood on the other side. He looked down at the array of devices. Pumps, clamps, a neuro pinwheel, a variety of whips and floggers and a stack of rubber bands of all sizes. There was a small black case sitting opened on the bed. Diane saw the dials, knobs and wires and knew it was an electrical control box. There were clamps, adhesive patches, and rods, all with wires protruding from them and all connected to the box. There were other devices she didn't recognize and they scared her. She wasn't sure what they did but she was certain it would hurt.

"I am not going to tie you like we did this morning. You will need to remain still on your own. I'm certain you can do it." Diane wasn't. She'd struggled and strained against the pain when he had her this morning and was certain it would be worse this afternoon. Especially as she hadn't had time to really recover from his earlier treatment. Curtis was picking up and examining the tools one by one as he talked. "I very much hope you can remain still. Monish has special punishments in mind for girls who do not satisfy his customers." He lifted one of the electrodes and touched it to his tongue. "I have known him for a long time." He flipped a switch on the control box and turned the knob down. When he touched it to his tongue again, he shook his head and spit. "Owww. That's nasty."

Diane stared at him in disbelief. She knew from this morning that he was not an amateur, but why was he being so chatty? He picked up a rubber band, an inch thick and about eight inches around. He wrapped it around his wrist twice, then flicked it. "Ouch. That's going to hurt too." He unwound it and dropped it on the bed. Diane stood, trembling slightly, wondering what kind of mind game he was playing. She wasn't used to standing in a thong panty like this. She was comfortable naked or dressed, but not in this supposedly "sexy" getup. She wished she'd kept her dress on.

There was a knock at the door. Diane reached for her dress but Curtis gave her a look that made her back off. She raised her arms in front of her, but then thought again and crossed her wrists behind her back. She might as well go into display position, there was little doubt that whoever was outside the door was going to be fucking her or hurting her very soon.

Curtis opened the door and waved in two women. Both were wearing brightly colored Spandex micro mini skirts and pushup bras. Both had way too much makeup, six inch heels and were chewing gum. Hookers. Whores. Streetwalkers.

Each of them leaned forward and kissed Curtis as she stepped past him, then looked at Diane. "Holy fuck." "What the hell is this?" "Curtis, is this another of your sick-fuck fantasies?" They kept walking across the room, approaching Diane.

One of them, a six-foot blond woman with tiny tits and a painfully thin body blew a bubble in front of Diane. When it popped, Diane felt a spray of spit and rubber on her face. "Skank whore, pain slut, or just a cow with big titties?" She rubbed her hands over Diane's breasts, felt the nipples stiffen. "A hot little piece, isn't she?" She rubbed the back of her hand over the thong, raised it to her nose. "Fucking ey, she's ready to fuck."

"Why don't you fuck her Curtis?" the other woman asked. She was about five eight and forty pounds overweight. Her dark hair was greasy and she had a cigarette in her hand. "Still can't get it up without hearing those sounds?" She reached out and rubbed his crotch.

Curtis pushed her away hard. "Fuck you, Julie. I pay you, you do what I say. It's pretty simple isn't it? Just like you?" She flipped him off, took another drag from the cigarette. She stepped closer to Diane, swung and slapped her across the chest hard. Diane flinched but kept her hands in place.

Julie turned to Curtis. "This one is going to be good for you. She can take it." She turned back to Diane and pinched her right nipple, twisted it all the way around. "Can't you, cow?" Diane kept her face still, she wasn't going to give this bitch the satisfaction of hearing her whimper. She looked at Julie. The woman's body was slovenly but her face was hard. She had tattoos exposed on both breasts, and up and down both arms. Her calves were both covered with a barbed wire design. There was another barbed wire around her neck. Diane stared at the tattoos.

Julie blew a mouthful of smoke into Diane's face, then reached up and stroked her hair. "Like the ink, cow?" She turned to Curtis. "Another redhead, huh? Goddam, I wish I was a redhead." She walked over to Curtis. "Then, maybe you'd fuck me, huh?" Curtis just stood there.

She dropped into the armchair and crossed her legs. "Okay, Barbara. Let's get started. I saw that Curtis took my advice and brought rubber bands this time." She looked at Curtis. He was already rubbing his hand across the crotch of his pants. She shook her head. Fucking perverts.

"Do her up, Barb. A big one at the base, then three more on each one, an inch or so apart." Barbara was already ahead of her. Diane stood still, arms still crossed at the base of her spine. The rubber bands were tight but no worse than a hundred ropes she'd been tied with before. She saw her titties starting to redden, felt the flesh swelling.

Barbara watched Diane's face closely. She leaned over and licked Diane's nipples, then bit them hard. Diane squirmed but she didn't make a sound. Barbara turned to Julie. "This one's tough." Julie smiled, baring her teeth and snickering, "they all think they're tough." She stood up and reached toward the bed. She picked up a thin piece of leather, about a foot long and an inch wide. It was something she'd suggested Curtis buy years ago. She raised it and brought it down fast, clipping Diane's nipple with just the last half-inch or so. Diane let out a sound but caught herself quickly.

Julie laughed. "You really *are* committed, aren't you?" She flicked Diane's right nipple again, then again, harder each time and quicker.

Barbara counted the blows out loud. "...three...four...five...six..." Diane's eyes were welling, tears dripping down the sides of her cheek but she wouldn't say anything, she kept her body rigid, tits thrust out and offered for more punishment. "...seven...eight..." Julie saw Diane's body flinch slightly, saw her thighs and knees shaking with the effort to control herself. She wouldn't last much longer.

"...nine...ten..." Barbara said as Julie swung harder and faster. She heard Diane give a shudder and a sign of relief, expecting Julie to stop at ten.

But, she didn't. "...eleven...twelve..." Diane bent a few inches at the waist, unable to control herself any longer. She quickly got back into position. Her eyes were streaming tears and she was breathing quickly.

"Please, just a second, please, please," she begged. Julie raised the strap and brought it down again. Barbara counted "...thirteen...fourteen...fifteen." Julie stopped and stepped closer to Diane. She ran her hand over Diane's trembling forehead, wiping the sweat away, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"You thought you were special didn't you?" She leaned in closer to Diane, grabbed her hair and pulled her head back hard. "You thought you were better than a couple of street whores?" She looked at Barbara and nodded. Barbara leaned forward until her face was just above Diane's. Julie pulled Diane's head further back, stuck her fingers in Diane's mouth. She pulled Diane's mouth open wide. "Are you better than a couple of street whores, you cow?" Barbara leaned over and gathered a mouthful of saliva. Diane shook her head and tried to moan, "no, I am not", but she couldn't get the words out. Barbara parted her lips and the glob of spit splashed against Diane's tongue, drizzled down the back of her throat. She coughed but Julie pushed her mouth closed. She swallowed it and retched slightly, feeling the bile burn the back of her throat.

"That's enough," Diane heard Curtis say from behind Julie. She looked and he was still standing in the same place, his hand down the front of his pants, rubbing himself. Julie gave Diane another evil grin and gently patted her cheek. "Now we know what's what, don't we?" Diane felt Barbara pushing against her from behind. Barbara slid Diane's hand underneath her short skirt, underneath her panties. "I may as well get some use out of you while you're here," she said. Diane felt the sticky wetness of Barbara's cunt and nearly retched again, wondering if she was dipping her fingers in Barbara's juices or some John's cum.

Julie stood aside slightly so Curtis could watch as she laid fifteen swats on the left nipple. Diane was trembling, near passing out. She couldn't remember so much concentrated pain in such a short time. Curtis and Julie had clearly been honing their craft for a long long time. Barbara came while counting and Julie chuckled, Diane tried to remove her hand, but Barbara pushed it back.

When Julie had finished fifteen strokes, she looked at Curtis. He was still rubbing himself, still hadn't cum. "Curtis," Julie said. "I want to teach you about the rubber bands." Diane looked at her with panic. What else was there? They held her titties tight, slowed the circulation, made the nipples tender. As Curtis walked closer, Diane realized Julie had in mind. She was going to snap the rubber bands.

Diane squirmed and started begging, "Curtis, Curtis, please, please, there must be something else..." She raised her arms and covered herself, pushed backward and sent Barbara tumbling onto the other bed. She stepped back but froze immediately. Panic had got the best of her and she knew she would pay. She'd been at the game long enough to know better than to try and run off. But, she was so exhausted from the last few days she couldn't think straight. Her world was going to crumble, she just didn't know when. All because of Monish.

She stepped forward, put her arms behind her back again, and thrust her chest out toward Curtis. "Curtis, I am so sorry...I won't let it happen again." Curtis eyes were bright. He had done this a hundred times before but there was something intense about this one. She was able to take so much pain, but she flinched from this one. He looked at Julie. "This is really going to hurt, isn't it?" Julie laughed and picked up a rubber band, and flicked it against Curtis' arm. He jumped. "Ow!" She laughed again. She pulled down her top and held the rubber band tight across her chest. With her other hand, she pulled it six, eight inches away from the flesh and let go. The snap resounded across the room. Julie didn't flinch but both Diane and Barbara turned their heads away.

She lifted the rubber band. Curtis saw the huge red welt. "Oh, yeah. Hurts like a motherfucker," she laughed and turned toward Diane. "But I can take it. How about you, cow?" She snapped one of Diane's rubber band and Diane felt the pain shoot through her brain like a firecracker. She'd barely stretched it, half an inch.

"Curtis? This is all you," Julie said. Barbara pulled Diane's hand away from underneath her dress and walked around to stand next to Julie. "This, I gotta see." Curtis reached out for the rubber band nearest Diane's left nipple.

"No, no," Julie said. "That one is going to hurt a lot. A lot. You need to work her up to it." Diane started shuddering again, quietly began begging. "Curtis, please...there must be something else on the bed...Curtis..." Curtis pulled the rubber band at the base of her left tit back an inch and let go. Diane felt the pain explode across her chest and gasped. She kept her arms and feet in place, only squeezed her eyes shut. Curtis pulled the same one, two inches this time. SNAP! Diane moaned, felt her knees buckle but stayed standing. She felt his fingers take the same one again and screamed, "no! NO! CURTIS!" He pulled further back and snapped again. She swung her arms around her tits and hunched forward. "I can't, I can't..."

Julie looked at Curtis and he nodded. The two women stepped to Diane's sides, each of them taking one of her arms. Then, they each wrapped a leg around one of Diane's. She was immobile now. She struggled against them but the woman were both street hardened and she was no match for them. Curtis stoked Diane's nipples and watched them harden, watched her squirm as the blood tried to course through her constrained titties.

"Julie," he said. "Yeah?" she answered. "I think I like this."

He pulled the second rubber band and snapped it, again, then a third time. Diane stopped begging and was now just moaning and shivering. He moved to the third one, the one closest to her nipple, and pulled just an inch. It was thinner than the others, not as tight either. When he let go, she let out a small scream and Julie clapped her hand over Diane's mouth. "Gag her Curtis," Julie said.

He picked up a rag off of the bed and stuffed part of it into Diane's mouth, wrapped the rest around the back of her head and tied a knot. He snapped the same rubber band again and she went wild, wrestling hard with Barbara and Julie, trying to jerk herself forward, backward, side to side, but ultimately they kept her in place. Curtis started on the right breast, this time working faster and pulling further. Diane flailed and shook her head hard, body jerking, trying to get away from the next blow but never able. Curtis started working with two hands at once, alternating light snaps and heavy snaps, watching Diane's body dance. She was covered with sweat now and it was getting hard for Julie and Barbara to hold her. Curtis snapped both base bands at the same time and Diane stiffened, then went limp. Barbara was afraid she had passed out but Julie new better. She had surrendered. The pain had won. Curtis could now do whatever he wanted to and she would not resist.

Julie and Barbara laid Diane on the bed and stood back. Curtis leaned over her and reached for her nipples. "Up, cow. Up," he said. Obediently, she arched her back, offering him her nipples. "Barbara. Come over here and touch me," he said as he pulled Diane upward, lifting her slightly off of the bed. She moaned, her body in another place. Julie recognized the sound and knelt beside the bed, pushed her hand between Diane's legs. Diane immediately began rubbing against Julie's knuckles, let out a screaming orgasm in seconds, kept humping. Barbara slid her hand inside Curtis' pants and he started moaning quietly.

In just a few seconds, both Curtis and Diane came.

===

Barbara and Julie helped Diane dress, got her to the elevator and walked her through the lobby. Diane was completely exhausted and could barely walk. The women held her up, practically carrying her, one standing close on each side, holding her by the arms. They knew the management - had worked the hotel before - and didn't want any trouble. When they got outside, Julie handed Diane a card. "You're a fucking hot one, we could make a lot of money doing scenes, honey. I know some kinky motherfuckers." She lit up another cigarette, took a drag and blew the smoke upward into the air. "Call me."

Barbara and Julie helped Diane dress, got her to the elevator and walked her through the lobby. Diane was completely exhausted and could barely walk. The women held her up, practically carrying her, one standing close on each side, holding her by the arms. They knew the management - had worked the hotel before - and didn't want any trouble. When they got outside, Julie handed Diane a card. "You're a fucking hot one, we could make a lot of money doing scenes, honey. I know some kinky motherfuckers." She lit up another cigarette, took a drag and blew the smoke upward into the air. "Call me."

===

...continued from Ch 04...

===

Diane leaned her back against the brick wall of the building and closed her eyes. She was exhausted but realized she'd made it. She'd satisfied Monish's customer, the man had even given her a tip. Diane laughed. As soon as he gave it to her, Julie had taken it away.

Diane opened her eyes and measured the distance to the taxi stand, gathered her strength for the walk. Just as she started, she shook her head. It wouldn't do her any good, she didn't have any money or the keys to her house in the tiny dress Curtis had her dressed in. She realized that she wasn't even sure where Monish's thugs had put her clothes when they walked her out of the hairdresser's in this outfit. Maybe she could walk back to the office and get upstairs to her desk. But, how would she get past security this late at night with no ID?

"Here, pull these on. You're a mess."

Diane turned around and saw three men in black jeans and A-shirts standing just behind her. One of them threw her a pair of plain white panties. Unexpectedly, Diane blushed. Julie had insisted she leave Curtis' hotel room with just the flimsy dress and her sandals. In the elevator on the way down, Julie had slid Diane's dress up around her waist, forcing her to take most of the ride exposed. Julie and Barbara had talked about Diane's ass, but neither of them touched her. She was frustrated, turned on by everything that had happened upstairs, and had worked hard to resist begging one of them to touch her.

It was dark enough outside that Diane could step into the shadows of the building's entryway and quickly slip on the panties.

"That's better," the shortest one said. "Let's go." He started walking toward the streetcorner but Diane didn't move. He turned around. "Well?"

"Well, what? I took care of Curtis, now I'm going home," Diane said. Her bluff felt feeble, even to her. The short man quickly stepped in front of her and took her arm in his hand. "Monish wants to see what Curtis did." He began walking down the street, tugging her along. "He wants you to tell him all about it." They turned the corner and she saw a bright red van parked at the first meter. "And..." he pulled a mini-disk out of his jean pocket, "...he wants to watch the video with you." Diane stared at him. "Oh, you didn't know Curtis was recording?" She didn't reply. "Curtis always records. You're probably up on the Internet already."

She looked around. It was only nine at night but the streets were already deserted. The van must be theirs. She looked at the other two men. They were taller, thin and muscular, early 20's, and exuded a rapacious air, as though they were animals waiting for their master to turn them loose. She's already noticed them jabbing at each other and pointing at her, whispering to each other. They were just far enough away that she couldn't make out much more than the occasional "fuck" or "cunt" or "tittie". Young punks. Young studs, no doubt each out to impress the other by using her harder. The shorter man was calmer, obviously in control.

He stopped at the van, pulled out his keys and opened the side panel. The two men climbed in first then reached for Diane. Before the door was even completely closed, she was naked and one of them was on top of her, rubbing his leg between her thighs, pinching her nipples hard. She moaned, swimming in a sea of desire and pain, and fucked them in turns all the way back to Monish's hangout.

===

It was one o'clock in the morning when Juan and Danny pulled the red van into Diane's driveway. Danny handed her the paper bag that contained her clothes from earlier and her keys. He slid he side panel door open and she inched her way out, stood beside the van trying to keep her legs from collapsing underneath her.

The van door slid slut and Juan backed out and drove away. Diane watched as the taillights turned the corner at the end of her block, then looked toward her front door. It seemed a  hundred miles away. She was completely fatigued.  When the van arrived at Monish's place, the two men had pulled their pants back on but walked Diane naked into the clubhouse. The place was loud and bright, packed with more than two dozen men and women, all drinking and dancing stupidly around the place. She was fondled, slapped, and kissed as the short man walked her from the front door to Monish's table at the back. One of the men even slid a finger inside her as she walked by, she turned to see who but he'd already walked away.

Monish had her stand just at the end of his table, arms straight above her head, facing the room. Someone put the video in the player and they watched Curtis, Julie and Barbara playing with Diane. For the first two hours, the movie looped as the patrons lined up and took turns playing with her titties. The milder ones just pinched and slapped them. Others used rulers, rubber bands, and clamps and weights. Two of the women had brought 1/8 inch canes with them and took turns making designs on Diane's flesh.

After that, it was gangbang time. Monish had announced it by standing on his table and banging two beer mugs together. "The bank is now open! Time to make deposits!" He'd laughed at his own joke and sat back down.  One of his men brought a barstool and put it in front of Diane. "You'll be more comfortable," he said, mockingly. She had sat on it, but the first man pulled her forward and she fell backward, her shoulders and back on the table, face looking directly at Monish. The cushion of the bench just barely supported her lower back and ass. Monish had looked at her and given her a big, evil smile. Diane lost track of the men at fifteen, wondered in a daze why she had even bothered to count that high. She knew that it was best to relax into it and even came several times, clutching whoever was on top of her while Monish and his crew laughed and commented on her "going wild". She'd feel the cum ooze out of her as each new man slid in, still got the same perverse thrill out of that feeling, the warm liquid gushing over her ass cheeks and dripping on to the floor. When they were done with her, Monish had given her an oversized t-shirt and sandals to wear home, then handed her the bag.

She looked down at the bag, sitting on the driveway at her feet. Every inch of her body was tired or sore, she wondered if she should just lay down there on the grass and sleep. The thought was tempting. She looked to her right. The lawn was neatly trimmed and just slightly damn with the overnight dew. She could curl up just next to the hedge and get a few hours of rest, then get up and go back into the house before daylight. It would feel so good to just sleep. Just for a few minutes. She was standing in a field underneath a tree looking at the horizon. There were hills and the sun was just starting to rise. She turned her head and saw two people on bicycles riding on a path just twenty or so feet to her left. One of them raised his hand and waved. The other veered off the path and rode toward her. He stopped a few feet away and dropped the bike to the ground then walked toward her. He pulled his shorts down and she looked at his stiff cock, automatically reached out her hand to touch it.

Diane realized she'd fallen asleep standing there and gave an exasperated chuckle. She leaned over, legs stiff and tight, raw nipples scraping the inside of the shirt, and picked the keys out of the bag and walked to the back door. Once inside, she went through the laundry and to the kitchen and poured herself a big glass of orange juice, hand trembling slightly from fatigue. She nibbled a leftover sandwich from the refrigerator. Sleep was going to feel so good. She put the rest of the sandwich back in the fridge and walked down the hallway toward her room.

"Hey, not so fast," she heard a voice from the front room. She froze. Someone was in her house. She knew Monish had made himself a key. Whoever it was, Monish had sent him. Monish again. Everywhere, every time. Monish.

She stormed into the front room and saw two men sitting there. Both were beefy men in their 30's wearing expensive navy blue suits, ties loosened but not off. They were drinking from cans of beer. One of them, the huskier, balding one, was chewing on an unlit cigar.

"Come on over here, honey. Let's see those titties," the other man said. He held up a pair of clover clamps and smiled.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" she screamed, her foggy brain unable to contain her anger. "Do you just think you can come in here anytime and do whatever you want?? I can call the police you know! Does Monish think he can just do whatever he wants, whenever he wants??!" She stood there, fists clenched, trembling and spent. The men looked at each other, then back at Diane. "Are you finishd?"

She lowered her head and let out a sigh. She nodded. Sleep would have to wait.

===

The telephone rang. Diane tried to wake up and answer it but she was too exhausted and couldn't.

===

The telephone rang. Diane reached for her cell phone on the table beside the bed. She concentrated hard to focus her eyes and she saw that it was Rodrigo. What did he want?

She punched the button and said "Hello?"

"Diane? I'm glad I caught you before you left. I looked at the proposal, you didn't roll in all of Vader's numbers. It's a mess. Can we get together before you have to give it to him?"

Diane looked at the clock. It was seven a.m. She let out a defeated sigh. The men had finished with her at two, she'd signed on to her machine, downloaded Vader's updates and reworked her propsal until four-thirty, then send it to Rodrigo, asked him to print it for her. Then, she'd collapsed in bed.

"I didn't put in his numbers? What numbers?" she asked. Her brain was cotton candy, she couldn't remember who the client was, let alone the changes Vader had asked for. She remembered he wanted something changed about terms and guarantees, but didn't remember anything about numbers.

"His attachment. The spreadsheet. You were able to open it, weren't you?" Rodrigo asked. She shook her head. She had been too tired to work and hadn't noticed the attachment. She'd only made the changes he'd put in the email itself. She felt the panic growing in her again. Another wall was collapsing.

Diane slid her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, flincing as her tits rubbed against her shirt. She felt her nipples stiffen. A real pain slut, she thought. My body is abused for hours and hours and it turns me on. She thought back to Julie and the way she'd found to inflict such intense pain so easily, pictured herself standing there, staring at the woman's strong tattooed arms.

"Diane?" Rodrigo called. "You did get the spreadsheet?"

She pushed the image of Julie out of her head, tried to focus on the phone call. "Uh, no, the file was corrupt. Something in the email program, I guess," she lied, hoping he would buy it.

"Well, I have it here and can send it to you again. But I think it would be better if you came in. I could pull the numbers over into your proposal, but I'll need your help putting some words around it." She heard his voice but it was far away. She knew it was important to get into the office, to finish the proposal and get back on solid ground with Mr. Vader but her body needed to rest.

"Let me pour some coffee and call you back, OK?" she asked. Rodrigo agreed and she clicked off the phone. She started to get up, felt a glob of cum ooze from her pussy and drip onto the bed. She didn't care anymore. Her body was Monish's now and it was only a matter of time until he controlled it 24 hours a day. He'd keep finding customers with more and more intense appetite to send her to until...she shook her head. This constant inner monologue was going to drive her crazy if she didn't get it under control.

Monish was a problem, yes, but there was a solution somewhere. She just had to find it. She had to hold on to that idea or she'd collapse completely.

She walked across the room, feeling the cum slick along the inside of her thighs. She could hear it stick and slide when her legs rubbed together, the sound made her gag. She noticed something on the nightstand - am 8x10 black and white photo of Monish, shirtless. His arrogance frosted her. She wanted to toss it across the room but didn't have the energy to walk back to it. She steadied herself with her hand against the wall and walked toward the kitchen. She hesitated before turning the corner - fearful that he'd be there, or that he'd let more men into her house. But the kitchen was empty. Diane pushed the button on her coffee maker and it spun awake, grinding a new handful of beans and boiling water.

She leaned against the counter, winced as her heavy tits touched the granite edge. Everything was so tender. She'd never gone through anything like that before, it was an like unending gauntlet of freaks and perverts all on the same mission - make Diane hurt.

She smelled the coffee. A nice, normal scent. A touch of the old reality. Not the smell of sweat or leather or cum. She pictured herself on her knees, some stranger wiping a glob of cum off of her forehead with his finger, depositing it into her open mouth. Focus! Focus! She told herself. I have to get back to Rodrigo.

She knew he'd do the work for her if she asked, but she couldn't. It was wrong. He'd already done his part just reviewing the document. But her body screamed with her need for rest. She drank the coffee and pushed the button for another one.

A shower. She needed a shower if she was going in.

Diane went into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and slowly pulled the t shirt over her head. When the room was steaming, she turned it back to lukewarm. The hot would feel good on everything but her tits and she knew it. Diane stepped into the stall and reached for the hand sprayer. She vigorously soaped and washed everything from the waist down. Carefully, she leaned backward and shampooed her hair. Then, she took a washcloth and soaked it with water, dabbed her breasts and nipples gently, flinching at even the slightest scrub.

Good enough, she thought. She towelled herself dry, again very gingerly patting her breasts. Not too bad, she thought. I'm feeling closer to awake. She rubbed the towel over her hair, she'd blow dry it later. Diane patted her face and looked at the mirror. The red hair! How was she going to explain the red hair at work?! With her track record over the last few weeks, the last thing she could afford was a frivolous "change of style". She pushed the towel against her face to keep from crying. Monish again. He was taking over every part of her life.

The telephone rang again. She picked it up and growled, "fuck you Monish!"

"Diane? It's me, Carol."

Diane immediately tensed. Carol had been a good friend for most of the last ten years. They'd met at work and found they had a lot of common interests in music, movies and food. They weren't best friends who bared their souls to each other, but could always count on each other or support or a good night out.

"Hi, Carol. Sorry. There's been this telemarketer phoning me for the last few days."

"Oh, yeah. I know. The other day, I had another..."

"Carol, sorry to cut you off, but I've got a problem at work and have to get going here."

"I was just wondering if you wanted to catch a movie or something tonight."

Diane wanted to sleep but also needed some reality. She felt like the last two weeks had been nothing but non-stop sex and pain. Maybe a night out. If *he* didn't call.

"Sure. I could do something after six. Pick something good and text me, OK? Gotta run."

"Sure, love ya." Carol hung up and Diane set the cell back on the table. A normal night out. What were the odds? she thought.

Diane called Rodrigo and said she'd be there as soon as she could. He was already moving the information into her presentation and that made her feel good. The second cup of coffee was hitting her and she was awake, ready to conquer the world. She would get the presentation done, walk through it with Vader, and clean up some other loose ends. Monish's shadow hung over the day but she couldn't think of anything else to do but push on.

Selecting a bra was easy today - the tightest and most supportive thing she had. She didn't want them moving around on her during the day, hurt and distracting. She found an old, plain cotton bra and eased herself into it. It was perfect. The rest of her suit for the day - casual Friday - was a comfortable pair of slacks and a pullover top. Casual Friday, she thought. Friday. Date night. Sex night. Monish would be calling. She stood still, her pullover in her hand. Why bother? She might as well get naked and lay on the bed and wait for the phone call. No. No, she wouldn't give him that much control. She pulled the top on and dressed it up with a wooden beaded necklace and some bracelets and went into the bathroom to do hair and makeup.

===

Diane was antsy. She ate another forkful of salmon off the top of her salad, looked around the restaurant. Nice, normal people having nice, normal lunchtime chatter. She looked down at the cell phone on the table. When would Monish call and where would be send her?

It was just after noon. She'd driven to the office and finished the proposal with Rodrigo just in time for the meeting with Mr. Vader. She'd floated a story to both of them that she knew she was in a slump and thought the hair color change might pick her up out of it. They bought it. The proposal was fine, Vader gave her a pep talk about being back in the game. She felt a bit better, but she was aware that both of them knew something was going on with her. Vader told her that she and Bailey would be heading back to the client's site next week to give the updated presentation and she flinched. Bailey was a problem she hadn't given much thought to and now they were going on an assignment together. Well, she'd deal with that next week. Vader walked her to Bailey's office and they had a short planning session. Diane was nervous the whole time, watching Bailey for signs but getting nothing. It was as though the other day hadn't happened.

She pushed the salad around on her plate. It was hard to eat, her stomach was tight and she had no appetite. She looked at the phone again. The feeling of anticipation was horrible. It was a mixture of fear, anger, and arousal. Monish didn't have her do anything she wouldn't have done with Lars and his group. They'd even done rape and blackmail fantasies. The difference with Monish was that it was real. She couldn't say no. So what? She never said no anyway. Her head swum. She knew it was wrong. He was *blackmailing* her! He was making money off of her. It was all wrong but she...what? Diane realized what was bothering her. She knew that she preferred Monish's treatment to Lars. His men were harsher. They took a different attitude toward her body than Lars' group. They felt such a sense of entitlement, their ownership was not temporary - not the "here's tonight's schedule" approach Lars took - it was complete and forever. Any of Monish's customers could have her whenever they wanted to. She was completely and totally accessible.

Diane reached for her ice water. She was turning herself on again, felt the dampness between her legs, her clit engorged and sensitive. She looked at the phone. Why the hell didn't he call?

===

"Wasn't much of a movie was it?" Carol asked.

Diane laughed and shook her head. "A knock off of knock off. Damn! How do they get the money to produce crap like that?" Carol stopped to use the bathroom on their way out and Diane threw away the empty popcorn bucket and drinks. She took her phone out of her pocket and checked. No messages. No missed calls. It was nine-thirty and the entire day had been quiet. She'd grabbed a quick dinner and met Carol just in time to watch the previews.

Diane enjoyed Carol's company. The younger woman was high-energy and positive all the time. Life was a continuous party interrupted by successful business deals. She was smart and attractive and seemed to be plugged into everything that was 'going on' in town.

Carol walked out of the ladies room, ran her fingers through her thick blonde mane and said, "Come on, I want you to see a new spot." They got into Carol's car and listened to techno music - Carol's current favorite - turned up loud. Diane tried to start a conversation but Carol was perfunctory - more into the music than talking. That was fine. She leaned back into the leather seat and closed her eyes.

"Hey, sleepy head, we're here!"

...to be continued...

"Hey, sleepy head, we're here!"

===

...continued from Ch 05...

===

Diane opened her eyes and saw the bright neon front of a nightclub. There was a bouncer at the door and two or three people standing just outside.

"I'm *so* sorry," Diane said. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Carol laughed. "Hey, if you need to conserve your energy to dance, that's fine with me. Come on." She climbed out of the car and handed the keys to the valet. He smiled at her and slid into the driver's seat. "Be nice to it," she yelled.

Within the first hour, Diane had finished two margaritas and danced with three different men. Carol was still flirting with the first man she'd met, they were in a booth sipping tequila and waiting to see who would make the first move. Diane was wild on the floor, an uninhibited dancer, often moving from one man to the other, rubbing against them, letting them run their hands over her clothing.

Around eleven o'clock, she was on her fifth drink and slow dancing with a very handsome man in khakis and a powder blue shirt. He smelled wonderful and she was losing control. All evening long, she'd been getting more and more turned on, teasing and dancing with man after man, filtering through them to find the one to take her home. This was him. She rubbed herself against him, letting the pain course from her breasts through the rest of her body, the current of desire always coalescing between her legs.

She said her goodbyes to Carol and he took her to his place. He poured her a glass of wine, but they were in the bedroom before she even tasted it. She pulled her dress over her head and unsnapped her bra. When he saw her breasts, he stopped. She tried to think of something to say, but he just stared. Reflexively, she offered herself to him, asked if he wanted to hurt them, reached toward her nipples to get him started. He picked up her dress and threw it at her, told her to get dressed, and called her a taxi. Defeated and frustrated, Diane went home.

===

Diane lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her life was running away from her. She couldn't even pick up a man in a bar without asking him to hurt her. Lars' dates were getting to be mundane, she was craving Monish and his customers. That was insane. He might be dangerous. He didn't do any of the screening Lars did. But then, Lars had introduced her to Monish. Nothing was perfect.

She absentmindedly touched herself between the legs, two fingers slipping along the edges of her pussy, opening the lips just the slightest bit, teasing herself. She closed her eyes and saw Julie. She leaned forward and kissed Julie, smelled the man sweat on her from her last John. She saw the tattoos along her neck, felt Julie's hands on her titties. Julie was pulling hard, twisting her nipples. Diane looked down and saw that it was her hands, she was pulling at herself. She let go, forced her arms flat on the bed at her sides.

Why didn't Monish call?

It was two o'clock in the morning and she couldn't sleep. She rolled over on her side, lay there for a while, rolled on her back again. She could call Lars. Lars could set something up for her. Send her someone. Send her to someone. But she couldn't. She was embarassed to let him know her hunger was getting to her. A normal woman could just pick up a man, Lars would wonder why she needed to call him.

Bailey. Bailey would come in a second. But she wouldn't call him. Never. He was an asshole and he scared her. But, he excited her too. She closed her eyes and thought about Bailey in the elevator. Diane on her knees sucking Bailey's cock on the elevator. She put her hand between her legs again and started rubbing her cunt, pictured herself at Bailey's the first night, helpless while he swung the single tail back and forth, back and forth, back and forth endlessly. She tried to masturbate herself but it wasn't working. She'd get aroused, but drop back off. Over and over, up...down...up...down.

She stared at the wall, at the curtains, at the television on the tall dresser. She reached for the remote and punched the movie channel. Nothing. She surfed. Channel after channel of nothing. She left an old black and white movie on, watching a detective story of some kind unfold. But her attention was always between her legs, her hungry cunt craving attention.

She looked at the clock, it was nearly four. "Damn it!" she yelled and got up out of the bed. In a frenzy, she pulled off her nightgown, flicked her nipples over and over, squeezed her titties hard, scraping her nails across the marks Curtis and the others had left earlier. The feeling was flooding through her now, she was feeling it. She pushed her hips against the edge of her dresser, felt her clit riding up and down over the wooden edge. She looked over the top of her dresser, frantically looking for something - nipple clamps, a hairbrush, something she could use. She saw a bracelet. Unclasped, it was four inches of gemstones, beautifully cut and wired on a silver chain. She reached for it, pressed it hard against her left tit and rubbed. The feeling was exquisite. She rubbed her clit faster and came in just a few seconds.

===

Diane felt the sheet pulled off of her and hands grabbing her wrists and ankles.

"Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talkin' about!" She felt a hand clamped over her mouth and something hit her hard across her belly, stinging. She jerked upward, dropped back to the bed and felt it again. Three, four, five times, then he stopped.

Someone held a 12 inch wooden ruler in front of her face. "It's a motherfucker, isn't it?" he asked, then hit her five more times in exactly the same place. Diane's belly was on fire but she quit squirming, trying instead to make the shift that would turn this erotic.

"Oh, no you don't," she heard Monish's voice. He motioned and the men let go of her, stepped back across the room. Monish sat on the bed beside her and pulled her close, cradling her head in his lap. She lay limp, exhausted already.

"So, you know it's Saturday, right? The weekend? Your days off?" He stroked her hair. "I like the red hair. More meaningful to you and me and Curtis, but still...nice in general. A real whore's hair." He dug his fingers into it and pulled hard, bringing tears to her eyes. "And not just a wig." He leg go. "You might make us a little more money this weekend."

"Monish...I need to rest," she muttered quietly. She knew he wouldn't care but she said it anyway. Maybe this time he would. "I've only had two hours sleep. I won't be any good."

"I don't think it'll much matter," he said. "You just need to show up and follow directions. Got it?" She closed her eyes, craved sleep.

"Get dressed." Monish told her. "In anything. You won't be wearing it long."

===

Diane blinked the sweat out of her eyes, tried to focus on the small lamp on the bookshelf across the room, tried to distract herself. The buzzing stared again before she could concentrate and her attention went immedidately to the new flood of pain deep inside her cunt. She tensed her thighs and pulled herself upward, her body rigid. It lasted only a few seconds. She let out a sigh and slumped forward. She felt her nipples start to vibrate, the clamps activated by one of the men sitting on the sofa. They stiffened, her body flooded again with arousal. Then, the one attached to her clit came to life. In minutes, she was near the edge again. And the man turned them both off.

Diane lost control and started begging. They'd been at it for nearly three hours and she thought she'd go insane if she didn't cum. Her arms and legs were restrained, strapped at the wrist, above and below the elbow, the bicep, the shoulder, eight similar straps up and down her legs. There were vibrators clamped to her nipples and one that clipped to the upper lips of her cunt, and pressed hard against her clit. The last two devices were round, rubber eggs with with six round metal faces inserted into her cunt and ass. They could be inflated, vibrated, or used to shock her.

The game the men were playing had one simple goal - to completely exhaust her. She'd come to them sleep deprived and fatigued but had come to life when they'd passed her around for the first round of fucking. Her body - sex starved from yesterday's boredom - rallied and feasted on the cocks, hands and tongues around her. She'd fucked all eight of them, then tried to have them go at her a second time.

But Monish had stopped them. He had a customer who had seen her photos and video and knew she was a true submissive, someone who enjoyed what they were doing. So, he wanted to pick up the game but not at the begining. At the end. He wanted her nearly at the end of her rope before he started.

"Please! I need to cum!" she screamed. The man on the sofa passed the controls to the man in the armchair. He pushed the clit vibrator to 5 and the nipple vibrators to 3.

"Not enough...not enough...please..." Diane moaned. "More...more...please, shock me...pleeease..." She moved her hips back and forth, "I'll suck you, I'll give you the best fuck of your life, I'll let you do anything you want to me..."

The man with the controls laughed. "Yes. You'll do that whether or not I do this..." He pushed the nipple controls to 7 and watched her grind her hips. "Yes...yes!" He turned one of the knobs slightly and pressed a button, held it down for five seconds. "YES!" she screamed as a shot of electricity flared deep inside her ass. "AGAIN!" He turned the voltage down and held the button only two seconds this time. "DAMN YOU! FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Diane was screaming now, swearing as he turned the various dials and pressed the buttons. It was never enough, never enough to do more than tease her. He turned the nipple vibrators down to 3 and the clit to 8...9...10... Her body arched and she bit her lip hard. She tried holding her body stiff to trick him, but he'd been watching her all day and knew the signs. When her belly started shaking he knew she was about to cum and flicked the device off.

"NOOOOO!" she screamed, collapsing back against her bonds. Sweat was dripping off her body, her hair was matted across her forehead and down her cheeks.  The man set the control box down on the armchair and stood up, walked to Diane. He slid two fingers betwween her pussy lips, feeling the sopping wet cunt, rubbing his hand back and forth, then pushing three fingers deep inside her. She moaned and tried to fuck his hand. If she'd had any shred of decency or modesty left, it was gone. She was pure animal now.

Diane was muttering something incoherent, unable to form words. He pushed his thumb against her clit and she shivered, shaking her body from side to side, straining harder, trying to feel the leather cutting into her arms and legs. "Yes, yes, closer, yes, oh please, oh please..." He rubbed faster, pushed harder into her. He saw the muscles of her thighs tighten and her back arch and pulled his fingers out of her. She collapsed completely into her bonds, broken.

"Whatever...whatever...whatever..." she muttered over and over.

"Monish," one of the men called. "I think she's ready."

A few minutes later, Monish walked into the room. He stood in front of her and lifted her chin with his fist. "Open your eyes," he said. Diane's eyelids fluttered but they didn't open. "Open your eyes," he repeated. She tilted her head to the side, eyes still closed. Monish motioned to the man in the armchair and he turned on the nipple vibrators. Diane's body rocked slightly, a moan came from deep in her throat. Her hips started to grind again.

"Another hour," Monish said.

Diane moaned quietly. His words were coming from far away, all she felt was the aching hunger between her legs. She'd been edged in the past but never like this. At some point, she'd gone numb and been able to endure it. This was different. They brought her to the edge and back again and every time it was torture, it was impossible to get control of herself, impossible to even shift into her private subspace. The feeling in her nipples was wonderful, her body melted into it. She knew they were going to let her cum this time, she knew they would never let her cum again. She craved it, she hated it. She felt the waves of desire again, from her nipples to the base of her brain. It felt so good. But then, it was in her cunt. What happened? She didn't know, couldn't follow it anymore. It was just pleasure moving around her body, caressing her, turning her on, making more of the juices that were running down the insides of her thighs. She felt the orgasm rising, her belly tensing, cunt lips swollen and soaked, started grinding back and forth, craving a cock deep inside her. Something inside her cunt was growing, swelling, she tried fucking it but there was no shaft. She didn't know what was going on and didn't care. She was so close to cumming, ground her hips obscenely, clenched and unclenched her ass. Then it stopped. She was falling off a cliff into darkness, felt nothing. Fingers then, fingers pushed up inside her. She tried to mouth "yes" but only a garbled sound came out. She fucked the hand as hard as she could, felt the orgasm coming closer again. Closer, closer. The fingers pulled out and the frustration flooded over her. She screamed. Something. She didn't know what. It didn't matter.

An hour later, Paul and Steve removed the devices from her. She moaned as the blood flooded back into her nipples and cunt lips but didn't have the strength to yell. As they removed each of the leather straps, her body melted into their arms. Her bones were like rubber, her muscles exhausted and limp. Steve tried to hold her while Paul slid the device she'd been strapped to back against the wall. Steve couldn't support her though and she slid out of his arms and onto the floor.

Monish came in and dropped to one knee beside her. "Diane?" She moaned a response. He picked up her arm and dropped it back to the floor, completely limp. He nodded.

"Bring her to Peter."

===

"Diane?"

"Diane? Wake up Diane." She felt a hand lightly slapping her cheek. She was dreaming, must be dreaming. She couldn't sense her body, was she standing? Laying down? Restrained?

"Diane. I have a very simple challenge for you. Very simple. You basically just have to stand still." She heard the voice shift from one side to the other, the man was walking around behind her. "Well, there is a little more. But for a piggy little slut like you, it will be a very simple challenge." She felt a hand on her leg, the outside of her knee. She must be laying down. She tried to open her eyes but was too exhausted for even that.

"You are going to stand up. Straight. Hands behind your neck, titties out. Three men are going to cane you across the titties. Ten times each. Five above the nipple, five below." Diane felt her cunt getting wet, her clitoris hard. Yes. Hurt me. "Then, you are going to fuck them. Suck them until they are hard, then get on top and ride them until they cum inside you." Yes. Cock. Yes. Deep. Please. Deep.

"That's all." She felt his hand sliding up and down her leg, lightly stroking her skin. "That should be easy for a whore like you, shouldn't it?" She didn't answer, couldn't answer. She was still swimming in a warm place, body completely limp and exhausted, unable to move. She felt something warm moving through her body, followed it, realized he was twisting her nipple, pulling it, squeezing hard. She loved it, rubbed her thighs together. "Easy," she tried to say but again only a garbled sound came out.

"Here, put this on," she heard Peter say. Something cool fell against her, draping over her shoudlers and face. She sniffed. Latex. Diane concentrated hard and moved her arm, slid her hand along the floor until it touched the outfit. It took hours, took all of her strength and she fell asleep again. Peter watched her for a few seconds, then slid his hand between her legs, pinched her clit between his thumb and first finger. She rolled onto her back and spread her legs wide open, raised her hips, moaning incoherently. He pinched harder and she felt an orgasm building fast. She pushed upward again, desparate to cum but he let go and she crashed to the floor, destroyed again.

"They are on their way, you have about three minutes to be up and dressed." Peter stood up and stepped a few feet away, looking down at the spent woman laying at his feet.

"Diane? Diane, one more thing. You must be ready in time. And you must not lower your arms or flinch while you are being beaten. You may scream, you may be silent, but you may not move. If you move, Monish has committed to releasing your photos and movies to the Internet. And directly to your boss. Mr. Vader. Please satisfy my friends. Completely."

The words penetrated slowly but effectively. Diane panicked and somehow mustered the strength to get to her knees. If Vader saw any of the pictures, even the mild ones, her life would be over. She would lose her job and no doubt be blacklisted. Monish would own her. She forced her eyes open and looked around the room. A plush hotel suite. And a table with straps, thick leather straps with large metal buckles. Had she been strapped there and flogged? She didn't remember. All she remembered was being on the edge of orgasm. Forever.

She tried to stand but was unsteady, went back down on one knee. She looked around for Peter, didn't see anyone. Her cunt ached from being swollen so long, she wanted to masturbate first, relieve the tension, get her bearings back but she didn't have time. She crawled to the dresser, used it to help herself stand. She let go and steadied herself, then walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She pulled the latex outfit from over her shoulder. She turned it over and over until she found the front. It was one piece with a single zipper. She leaned forward to pull on one of the legs but lost her balance and fell backward onto the bed. She closed her eyes, tempted to sleep but knew better. Her job was at risk now.

She sat up and pulled the latex up over her legs, forced herself to stand up and pulled it up over her bottom. She worked hard to get her tired arms into the long sleeves, working each finger into the black gloved ends. She was tired and dizzy, dropped back onto the bed. There was a knock at the door and she panicked. Was it time already? With an enormous effort, she pulled the top up, pulled the hood over her head and down underneath her chin. There were openings for her mouth and nostrils, but her eyes and ears were covered. Blind, she felt for the zipper, pulled it up from crotch to just between her tits. Every inch of her body was covered except her titties. They were exposed and becuase they were so big, they hung down onto the bodice. She felt the cool latex against the underside of her enormous titties.

Diane stood up and put her arms behind her neck, as Peter has commanded. She wondered if they wanted her legs together or apart, but realized it didn't matter. They didn't want her mouth or her cunt or her ass. They wanted her titties.

She knew how she looked, she'd seen photos of herself in this outfit. She was an advertisement for tit torture. She was a fetish dream, an anonymous body that screamed "hurt these tities!" She trembled slightly, it was an effort just to stand up, let alone keep her arms up like this. She wanted to sleep, just fall over and sleep. Fuck the job, fuck Vader, fuck Monish.

"Aaaarrhhh!" she screamed and collapsed to the floor. Someone had slashed the cane across her tits with no warning and she'd crumbled. She panicked, it was over, Monish would deliver the videos and Vader would ruin her. She curled up on the floor and trembled.

They let her lay there for nearly a minute. Then, she felt hands underneath her arms lifting her up. A mouth pressed hard against hers and she opened up, letting the stranger's tongue go deep inside her mouth, her body electric with desire again. She pushed her hips forward, looking for something to rub against, arms flung around the stranger's shoulders. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she muttered, body on fire with lust. She heard laughter around her and felt a long fingernail rake across her upper lip. It was a woman. She felt another gush between her legs, would they let her fuck the woman? Would she fuck Diane? She was insane and forgot all about Peter's instructions as the lips and tongue brought her closer to orgasm.

She felt the woman move to one side and slide her mouth along Diane's cheek, tongue pressing hard, soaking the latex. "Aah!" Diane grunted as a cane sliced across her titties again. This time, she didn't drop but leaned back even further, offering herself to the next one. She put her hands behind her neck and started begging "hit me, hurt me, please, please, hit me..."

===

Diane lay curled at Peter's feet. She was on her side, arms wrapped around his calves, legs splayed wide, Wendy licking her cunt. She'd endured the thirty stripes with the cane and fucked the men. They were satisfied. But Peter hadn't been. She'd been caned another thirty, remained standing and unflinching the whole time. Then, he'd stripped her out of the latex outfit and laid her down to be rewarded. Wendy tenderly rubbed a salve onto her badly striped titties, then settled down between her legs to give her the orgasms she'd been denied all day. Peter told her that he'd forgiven her first collapse. She had taken the last thirty gracefully and he was satisfied. Diane relaxed and enjoyed Wendy's tongue working between her legs. Peter sent her home at midnight.

===

Diane heard a crash and loud voices. They were complaining, yelling at each other. "It's not me, it's that asshole Monish. This is the second time." "Yeah, but if we don't come back with her, it's our ass." "Are you sure Peter sent her home?" "Maybe he lied. Maybe she's still there." "Call him."

She picked up her phone and checked the time. It was four in the morning. The voices were coming from her bedroom, Monish had given they the keys. She was curled up on the living room couch. When the driver dropped her off last night, she was too tired to make it to her bedroom, had collapsed on the sofa. She stayed perfectly still. If they thought she wasn't home, they might leave. That might buy her a few more hours sleep before they caught on and came back to search for her.

"I can't call, let's drive to Peter's and get her." She held her breath. "This is fucked up. Look, a photo of Monish." "Yeah, he does that with all of his bitches. It's like a dog pissing on a tree." "Marking territory." "Yeah, marking territory." "Why doesn't he just piss on them?" They both laughed. "Drive to Peter's?" "Yeah, let's drive to Peter's."

Diane heard something else crash in her room, wondered what they were doing, what they were breaking. She heard footsteps in the hallway. "You gonna drive?" "I don't care." "I drove here." The footsteps stopped. Diane squeezed her eyes tight. She knew they'd seen her. Walking into her room from the front door, they would have gone right by the sofa, but coming from the other direction, she knew they couldn't miss her. She went limp, feigning sleep. It wouldn't matter to them, she knew that, but it was all she could think of.

===

"Okay. Everything is calibrated. Wake her up."

Diane felt a hand stroking her cheek and heard the words from somewhere far off. She opened her eyes and saw three cameras pointed at her. Behind them was a row of six padded chairs, each occupied by a man wearing a black mask. Each of the men had a control box in his lap, rows of buttons and dials connected by wire to outlets in the wall behind them.

There were three fifty inch monitors along the wall above the outlets. She saw herself reflected in all three, the angles matching the angles of the cameras. She was suspended in the air. There were metal bands holding her in place - around her upper thighs, just below the knees, around her ankles, and more around her upper arms and wrists. Each of her fingers was held in place by a series of small bands, three on each finger, between the joints. Her head was held securely by bands around her forehead and chin, another thinner between her nose and upper lip. She felt earbuds in her ears and felt something in her mouth. Something metallic, just behind the upper and lower teeth. There was a rubbery taste in her mouth. She moved her tongue and felt a rubber bladder laying limp on it. She looked at the monitor and saw that there was a tube coming out of her mouth and disappearing behind her left shoulder.

She tried to open her mouth but the metal bands kept it firmly in place. She tried curling her fingers but they didn't move. She could bend her elbows and knees just slightly and her torso was free to move any way she wanted to. She felt the fear building up inside of her. Her torso was completely unbound, front and back. That couldn't be good news.

"Welcome to tonight's marathon," she heard a voice booming in the room. "This is Diane." She saw her face in closeup on the middle monitor. "As you see, she is in standard restraint position for the game." The picture changed to a closeup of her chest. There were a series of eight electrical pads, two above each nipple and two below each nipple. Her nipples themselves had some kind of metal rings at their base. The nipples had been pulled through and the rings clamped tightly around the areola, most of the sensitive part of the nipple was exposed in front of the ring.

"Tonight's player is a very experienced pain slut. We are raising the stakes. Each of your units has been recalibrated to thirty percent above standard settings." Diane squirmed a bit. She had no idea what standard settings were, but the voice was clearly challenging the participants to treat her more harshly than they were accustomed to.

The picture on the monitor changed to a shot from below, looking up into her crotch. She heard machinery whirring quietly and felt her knees being pulled up and out, her thighs being pulled slightly downward. She was being spread in a squat position. A metal arm came into view. It was holding a six inch long piece of black rubber with a single wire attached. The rubber cock was studded with flat metal pieces. She recognized it immediately, she'd had it inside her before. It was an all purpose pain device. It inflated, it squirmed, and the exposed metal conducted electrical shocks.

"Diane will be fitted with our standard devices, one insider her cunt," the robot arm moved upward and pushed it deep inside her, then drew back. Another arm came into view. "And of course, one in her rectum." The arm pushed the device into her, the two wires dangling down and out of view of the camera.

The camera switched to full body view again and she looked at herself. Half asleep already, she was now completely helpless, her entire body wired for pain and abuse to satisfy and audience Monish had sold her to for the night. She tried to fall asleep, to at least bypass some of what was happening to her. She closed her eyes but the voice didn't stop.

"Tonight, we have six players. We will repeat the rules so there are no misunderstandings. This is a simple two round competition." The monitor showed the control devices. "You each have the standard control device you were given last night. If you did not learn how to use the controls, you have forfeited your deposit already." The monitor shifted back to Diane, a closeup of her face this time. "The monitors in her headbands and in the device in her cunt will register her pain and arousal levels. For example," Diane felt a shock run across her chest and went rigid for a second. She was more afraid than hurt, didn't know what was coming. The monitor showed a meter with the numbers 1.2 and 1.0 side by side. "That was a fairly light touch across her breasts. She registered 1.2 for pain and 1.0 for arousal. Actually, that's quite a high number for arousal from such a small shock. We will need a moment to recalibrate the equipment."

The room went silent and the screens went black. There was a murmur from the room but Diane could barely hear it with the buds in her ears. She saw one of the men leaning to talk with the man sitting next to him, then both of them laughing. She felt the same shock across her chest and saw one of them pointing at her. He was smiling and pointed at his control box. With an exaggerated movement, he slowly lowered his finger until he pressed the button and she felt the shock again.

Diane began to feel heat rising between her legs. Her nipples swelled slightly. Immediately, the monitors switched on, each showing a split screen, an extreme close up of one of her nipples and one of her face. It caught the giveaway roll of the eyes and slight motion of her lips as her nipple swelled and the pain from the ring shot through her.

"Our pain slut can't resist, can she?" Diane heard the voice from the overhead say. The numbers flashed on the screen over her face. 1.3 and 0.6. "We've adjusted the arousal number. The subject has evidently been more completely conditioned than we thought and is easily aroused by pain." The arousal number jumped to 1.3. The men in the room laughed. "And evidently by humiliation," the voice continued. The number slowly climbed to 1.4, then 1.5. The room was silent for several seconds and the number slowly dropped back to 0.5.

"Each of you will be given a five minute turn at her. Your goal is to bring the pain and arousal levels upward concurrently to their highest point without letting her cum. If the pain and arousal levels are more than 2.0 points out of sync, your turn is over. If she cums, your turn is over.

"Between turns, she will be given two minutes to rest and recover. Then the next contestant will take his turn." "Or her turn," a woman's voice called from the room. Diane turned her eyes and saw that indeed, one of the figures in the room, sitting in the armchair in a dark business suit, was a woman. The arousal number on the screen rose from 0.5 to 0.8 quickly.

"Ah, she did not know that one of you is a woman?" the voice said. The number rose to 1.2. Again, whispers and chuckles from the room were channeled into the earbuds. Diane blushed deeply and the number rose again, topping at 1.5 before slowly dropping back to 0.5.

"I want to raise the stakes," she heard the woman's voice. The screens went dark again and elevator music flooded into the earbuds while they transacted business. Wagering on her body, on how much pain they could cause her, on her ability to withstand their onslaught and still cum. She felt her cunt oozing, swelling, her nipples stiffen. She craved their abuse, the humiliation of being their pain toy, her being reduced to nothing more than a softer part of the machine she was attached to.

The music in her ears stopped and the screens went live again, showing her full bodied and helpless. "Finally, you will be given one more round of five minutes each, this time in reverse order. This is to compensate for the exhaustion and fatigue she will experience as each of you takes your turn." The camera zoomed in on her face again, her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. "Of course, as you know, we have been working with Monish and she has had less than twenty hours sleep all week. Her body has been used and abused in a variety of ways, all of which were available to you to monitor online." She felt another flush of humiliation and arousal. Monish was making double his money off of her, pimping her out to deviates like Peter while also charging these men to watch. She sagged slightly in her bonds, her life was over.

"Each of you has a sealed envelope you pulled out of the box on your way in. The envelope contains a number. That number is the sequence in which you will take your turn with Diane." A series of bright lights came on, Diane felt the heat on her skin and closed her eyes against the glare. "Please, open the envelopes and let the games begin."

--- to be continued if there's enough interest. Please post comments if you want more... ---

... recap of Ch 06...

"Okay. Everything is calibrated. Wake her up."

Diane felt a hand stroking her cheek and heard the words from somewhere far off. She opened her eyes and saw three cameras pointed at her. Behind them was a row of six padded chairs, each occupied by a man wearing a black mask. Each of the men had a control box in his lap, rows of buttons and dials connected by wire to outlets in the wall behind them.

There were three fifty inch monitors along the wall above the outlets. She saw herself reflected in all three, the angles matching the angles of the cameras. She was suspended in the air. There were metal bands holding her in place - around her upper thighs, just below the knees, around her ankles, and more around her upper arms and wrists. Each of her fingers was held in place by a series of small bands, three on each finger, between the joints. Her head was held securely by bands around her forehead and chin, another thinner between her nose and upper lip. She felt earbuds in her ears and felt something in her mouth. Something metallic, just behind the upper and lower teeth. There was a rubbery taste in her mouth. She moved her tongue and felt a rubber bladder laying limp on it. She looked at the monitor and saw that there was a tube coming out of her mouth and disappearing behind her left shoulder.

She tried to open her mouth but the metal bands kept it firmly in place. She tried curling her fingers but they didn't move. She could bend her elbows and knees just slightly and her torso was free to move any way she wanted to. She felt the fear building up inside of her. Her torso was completely unbound, front and back. That couldn't be good news.

"Welcome to tonight's marathon," she heard a voice booming in the room. "This is Diane." She saw her face in closeup on the middle monitor. "As you see, she is in standard restraint position for the game." The picture changed to a closeup of her chest. There were a series of eight electrical pads, two above each nipple and two below each nipple. Her nipples themselves had some kind of metal rings at their base. The nipples had been pulled through and the rings clamped tightly around the areola, most of the sensitive part of the nipple was exposed in front of the ring.

"Tonight's player is a very experienced pain slut. We are raising the stakes. Each of your units has been re-calibrated to thirty percent above standard settings." Diane squirmed a bit. She had no idea what standard settings were, but the voice was clearly challenging the participants to treat her more harshly than they were accustomed to.

The picture on the monitor changed to a shot from below, looking up into her crotch. She heard machinery whirring quietly and felt her knees being pulled up and out, her thighs being pulled slightly downward. She was being spread in a squat position. A metal arm came into view. It was holding a six inch long piece of black rubber with a single wire attached. The rubber cock was studded with flat metal pieces. She recognized it immediately, she'd had it inside her before. It was an all purpose pain device. It inflated, it squirmed, and the exposed metal conducted electrical shocks.

"Diane will be fitted with our standard devices, one insider her cunt," the robot arm moved upward and pushed it deep inside her, then drew back. Another arm came into view. "And of course, one in her rectum." The arm pushed the device into her, the two wires dangling down and out of view of the camera.

The camera switched to full body view again and she looked at herself. Half asleep already, she was now completely helpless, her entire body wired for pain and abuse to satisfy and audience Monish had sold her to for the night. She tried to fall asleep, to at least bypass some of what was happening to her. She closed her eyes but the voice didn't stop.

"Tonight, we have six players. We will repeat the rules so there are no misunderstandings. This is a simple two round competition." The monitor showed the control devices. "You each have the standard control device you were given last night. If you did not learn how to use the controls, you have forfeited your deposit already." The monitor shifted back to Diane, a closeup of her face this time. "The monitors in her headbands and in the device in her cunt will register her pain and arousal levels. For example," Diane felt a shock run across her chest and went rigid for a second. She was more afraid than hurt, didn't know what was coming. The monitor showed a meter with the numbers 1.2 and 1.0 side by side. "That was a fairly light touch across her breasts. She registered 1.2 for pain and 1.0 for arousal. Actually, that's quite a high number for arousal from such a small shock. We will need a moment to re-calibrate the equipment."

The room went silent and the screens went black. There was a murmur from the room but Diane could barely hear it with the buds in her ears. She saw one of the men leaning to talk with the man sitting next to him, then both of them laughing. She felt the same shock across her chest and saw one of them pointing at her. He was smiling and pointed at his control box. With an exaggerated movement, he slowly lowered his finger until he pressed the button and she felt the shock again.

Diane began to feel heat rising between her legs. Her nipples swelled slightly. Immediately, the monitors switched on, each showing a split screen, an extreme close up of one of her nipples and one of her face. It caught the giveaway roll of the eyes and slight motion of her lips as her nipple swelled and the pain from the ring shot through her.

"Our pain slut can't resist, can she?" Diane heard the voice from the overhead say. The numbers flashed on the screen over her face. 1.3 and 0.6. "We've adjusted the arousal number. The subject has evidently been more completely conditioned than we thought and is easily aroused by pain." The arousal number jumped to 1.3. The men in the room laughed. "And evidently by humiliation," the voice continued. The number slowly climbed to 1.4, then 1.5. The room was silent for several seconds and the number slowly dropped back to 0.5.

"Each of you will be given a five minute turn at her. Your goal is to bring the pain and arousal levels upward concurrently to their highest point without letting her cum. If the pain and arousal levels are more than 2.0 points out of sync, your turn is over. If she cums, your turn is over.

"Between turns, she will be given two minutes to rest and recover. Then the next contestant will take his turn." "Or her turn," a woman's voice called from the room. Diane turned her eyes and saw that indeed, one of the figures in the room, sitting in the armchair in a dark business suit, was a woman. The arousal number on the screen rose from 0.5 to 0.8 quickly.

"Ah, she did not know that one of you is a woman?" the voice said. The number rose to 1.2. Again, whispers and chuckles from the room were channeled into the earbuds. Diane blushed deeply and the number rose again, topping at 1.5 before slowly dropping back to 0.5.

"I want to raise the stakes," she heard the woman's voice. The screens went dark again and elevator music flooded into the earbuds while they transacted business. Wagering on her body, on how much pain they could cause her, on her ability to withstand their onslaught and still cum. She felt her cunt oozing, swelling, her nipples stiffen. She craved their abuse, the humiliation of being their pain toy, her being reduced to nothing more than a softer part of the machine she was attached to.

The music in her ears stopped and the screens went live again, showing her full bodied and helpless. "Finally, you will be given one more round of five minutes each, this time in reverse order. This is to compensate for the exhaustion and fatigue she will experience as each of you takes your turn." The camera zoomed in on her face again, her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. "Of course, as you know, we have been working with Monish and she has had less than twenty hours sleep all week. Her body has been used and abused in a variety of ways, all of which were available to you to monitor online." She felt another flush of humiliation and arousal. Monish was making double his money off of her, pimping her out to deviates like Peter while also charging these men to watch. She sagged slightly in her bonds, her life was over.

"Each of you has a sealed envelope you pulled out of the box on your way in. The envelope contains a number. That number is the sequence in which you will take your turn with Diane." A series of bright lights came on, Diane felt the heat on her skin and closed her eyes against the glare. "Please, open the envelopes and let the games begin."

... end of recap of chapter 6 ...

CHAPTER 7

Diane felt her body hanging suspended in the device, an insignificant piece of soft flesh at the center of a chrome and steel machine. Her body the central component in a game that was all about pain. Something ridiculous was coming through the earbuds - she recognized it as a pastoral by Scarlatti - a completely inappropriate soundtrack to accompany what she saw in the three monitors. Her body, completely restrained and helpless, tubes protruding from her mouth, cunt, and ass, wires connected to various other tender spots. The music disoriented her. Between her complete exhaustion - both from lack of sleep and Peter's all-day abuse earlier - the heat of the lights and the soft music in her ears, she couldn't tell what world she was in, could barely tell if she was asleep or awake.

But she knew one thing with complete and utter certainty. There were six people on the other side of that window who were taunting each other with boasts about what extremes they would soon be pushing her body to.

The lights dimmed slightly and Diane heard a voice over the loudspeaker. All it said was "The first contestant will begin in ten seconds." The voice was calm and nonchalant. Diane was anything but. As the voice counted down, she felt her body start to tremble, began to pant in short, quivering breaths.

"Three. Two. One." She took a deep breath and tensed every muscle, clamped her eyes shut.

Nothing happened.

Diane remained immobile for several seconds, then opened her eyes slowly. The room in front of her was dark, though she could still see the figures outlined. She began to relax, her belly first, then her arms and legs.

There was a slight tingling between her legs. Contestant One had turned on the vibrator. She felt awash in a sea of heat, the last two days had been nothing but a steady tease and her body was on edge already. She clenched and unclenched her cunt, feeling the limp inflatable inside her, wishing it was a stiff cock. She began to moan, then the vibrator stopped. She pushed her hips forward the inch or so that the restraints allowed but it was no good. Now she felt something else. Something in her chest. The pads across her breasts were coming alive, sending a low hum through her. Her nipples stiffened, her cunt swelled as the gentle waves of electrical impulse washed over her.

Then, something between her legs. The device deep inside her ass started shocking her. She jerked and tensed. In response, the device started inflating. It quickly filled her then kept growing. She started moaning her pain.

"3.0 and 2.8" the voice announced over the speaker. Diane heard it from far away, didn't care. Her insides were starting to respond now. Contestant One was slowly raising the voltage, the waves inside her were more painful but her arousal was keeping pace. She began to moan and whispered quietly "more, more..."

"5.0 and 4.3" the voice announced. She started moving her hips back and forth. The vibrator switched to a higher speed and the shock across her breasts kept up with the pace. She saw them jerk slightly as the muscles spasmed from the shocks. She started panting, felt the orgasm coming.

"5.0 and 5.5". Diane's body was trembling now, she started to sweat and moaned deeper in her throat. The wave of current inside her ass changed abruptly to a pulse. She jerked and screamed as a jolt of pain shot through her belly. Immediately, the lights came back up and the devices stopped.

"Two point five degree separation, disqualification," the voice announced and Contestant One's turn was over. Diane closed her eyes and trembled there in her restraints. She knew she would have cum in just a few more seconds if they'd kept things stable. The jerk! The asshole! He blew it!

Contestant Two's turn began with no warning. Diane felt both of the inflatables pumping inside her, both grew huge in less than a minute, she felt like she had two cantaloupes stuffed up inside her. Something began tugging at them, pulling them downward and she groaned, completely aroused now and desperate to cum. She tried to bear down, tried to crap out the one in her ass, feeling intensely aroused knowing that she was being watched.

Then, she felt the restraints connected to her arms start to move. The device was pulling her wrists and elbows, stretching her arms in opposite directions. At the same time, her legs were also being pulled wider apart, opening her even more. Contestant Two was taking a different tack, not electricity and inflatables but good old fashioned pain. Diane tried to focus on the feeling between her legs, but it was no use. The device was relentless in its slow tugging at her arms. She started to sweat and tremble, afraid Monish might have gone insane and was going to allow them to tear her apart in their machine. She started panting hard, taking short breaths, puffing them out quickly, afraid of what a deep breath might do to her arms and legs.

The man behind the glass turned another knob and Diane felt the pull at her nipples. The cables that were connected to them vanished into the wall in front and to the sides, the motors behind the wall were pulling them tight. She tried to lean forward but it was no use, the restraints were too tight. She felt something else between her legs. They had intertwined something between her cunt hairs and those were now being pulled as well, her lips being stretched forward and apart.

She felt the machine loose its pull on the inflatables and nearly came from the relief it gave her. Then, it started pulling again. Release, pull, release, pull. She started to push harder with her cunt, felt the orgasm getting closer and closer. She started muttering again, this time chanting "pull" and "push", matching what the machine was doing between her legs.

The machine hummed again and Diane's knees were pulled upward. Slowly, gently. They were pulled up so far that they nearly touched her elbows, she felt like her entire abdomen was going to gush out through her cunt with each tug. She began to cum, the shaking starting in her belly and traveling down her legs, her toes trying to clench against their bonds, calves twitching, jaw trembling. Then, in a single motion, the inflatables went limp and her arms and legs were lowered to their original position.

"Five minute mark. Congratulations, Contestant Two."

"Damn you! Damn you! Fuck you all! Fuck you all, you asshole twisted fucking sick perverts!" Diane screamed as well as she could with her head and jaw restrained. Her body shook and trembled with its need to cum. She was so close, so close, she'd started but couldn't finish, her body craving touch of any kind now. She looked through hazy eyes at the crowd in the control room, hating them, needing them.

"You fucks! You can't break me! Come on, give it to me! I can take it!" she screamed, nearly insane now with her need. "I can beat you at your own fucking game! Come on! Hurt me! Come on! Fuck you all!" She continued for the full two minutes, stopped only when Contestant Three started off with a harsh jolt of current that simultaneously went through her cunt and ass, her breasts, and her fingers and toes.

"Oh yes, oh yes, that's it! Turn it up!" she heard herself yelling at them, her body alive now, every inch of it ready for whatever they might do to her. The current went on, a slow and steady pulse, low to high, growing every time it cycled. Her body went rigid, then limp, rigid, then limp, her chanting filling the room, filling her ears. "Yes, higher, turn it up, yes, more...aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!" she came, her entire body shaking and clenching, while the current rose and fell. She came and came, one long, ongoing orgasm while the pain flooded through her, her attention nowhere and everywhere, fingers, toes, cunt, nipples, back and forth, eyes opened then shut, body rigid, then limp, feeling the juices flood down between her cunt lips and drip into the pool spreading on the floor below her.

"Contestant Three, you are disqualified from this round. The subject is not cum, we're sorry but you earned no points."

Diane needed desperately to sleep. But she knew she couldn't. There were two more to go. Two more in this round. Then, they would take their second round at her. Thirty-five more minutes of agony and orgasm. She wanted to tell Monish to phone Vader, to phone Lars, to phone all of them and tell them that she was finished with it all, with all of them, that she belonged to Monish, body and mind. Completely. She was home.

Contestant Four was disqualified, the spread between pain and pleasure widened by more than 2 points. Contestant Five gave a respectable performance, Diane nearly came twice and actually at one point begged him to give her a short break. That was a milestone for the game and for Diane. It made her aware that she still had limits, no matter how far Monish, Peter, Curtis or the others had taken her, there was still some sane part of her brain that recognized "enough". He hadn't stopped, but at least she knew she could still see that line.

Contestant Six took a completely different approach. It was renee, the one female in the bunch. Diane heard the motors of the device whirr to life and felt her head being raised and turned slightly. She was staring directly into the control room, just a bit left of center. The lights in the control room brightened and Diane watched a figure from the second row stand up and talk to the window. It was the female whose voice she'd heard earlier. The woman pressed a button on the control box and Diane saw two numbers displayed on the glass. 0.5 and 0.2. Arousal and pain. Diane wasn't sure which was which but it didn't matter. The numbers had to be no more than 2.0 apart or renee's turn was over.

The woman handed her control box to one of the men, then calmly unzipped the front of her dress and let it fall off backwards. Diane's eyes locked on her body. renee was incredibly sexy, a rounded woman with firm 38C breasts, a smallish waist, and narrow hips. Her skin was tanned and flawless. Diane's cunt got wet just looking at the woman. The woman touched her finger to her tongue and then to her left nipple. It stiffened and she did the same to her right. Diane felt her nipples stiffen and her cunt started throbbing. She noticed that the numbers were changing. 0.8 and 0.2. 1.4 and 0.2. The first number was clearly arousal. The woman put her finger in her mouth again, then lightly ran it down her belly toward her crotch. 1.8 and 0.2. 2.0 and 0.2.

Without taking her eyes off of Diane's face, the woman reached down and pushed a button on the control unit. Diane screamed as something sliced across her back, a whip or a strap. The numbers jumped 1.5 and 2.5. Arousal and pain had swapped but were still within the allowed 2.0 range.

Diane heard more motors spin and saw that four panels in the walls had slid back and now metallic arms protruded into the room. From each of them hung a cluster of thin, three foot long leather straps. She watched in fear as the woman turned a dial and the arm to the forward right of Diane pulled itself back. Diane's eyes locked onto renee's and she saw her press a button. The arm spun fast and delivered a harsh stoke across Diane's belly. She screamed again, the pain was intense, horrible. The numbers were now 1.5 and 3.4 and she was panting hard. But, the vibrator and the inflatables took over, massaging her teasing her, and soon she was at 4.0, the pain dropping to just above 2.

This time, two of the arms whipped her, one across the fronts of her thighs, one across the small of her back. 6.0 and 4.1. Diane panicked, she knew what the woman was doing. Unlike the others who tried to keep the numbers climbing in tandem, she was playing the margins, jerking Diane back and forth from arousal to pain, always just inside the 2.0 limit. She swung back and forth in the machine, body completely at renee's mercy. At one point, she was registering 9.0 for both arousal and pain and renee let both numbers slide slowly back to 5 before pushing them back up again. Diane was losing her sense of reality,  she felt like she'd been there for hours and hours, days, weeks. The woman was masterful, relentless, and in complete control.

All four of the whips came at her this time and her vision went white from the pain. Immediately after, the vibrator slowed to nearly a stop, while the devices at her nipple emulated gentle stroking of a tongue. After a few seconds, the vibrator shifted to high speed. Diane's body went rigid and she came, a loud, shrieking orgasm, then everything went black.

Diane heard someone clapping.

She opened her eyes and saw that she was laying on a bed, a light blue sheet covering her. At the end of the bed stood a man in a dark suit. And renee.

"Wha...?" she muttered, trying to sit up but failing. She was too weak.

renee walked around the bed and knelt on the floor, leaned forward and stroked Diane's forehead. "We won." She kissed Diane but Diane was too limp and exhausted to respond. renee was naked except for a pair of pink nylon panties. She picked up Diane's hand and put it between her legs. She pushed the back of Diane's hand against her cunt, rubbing gently. She moaned and rubbed gently for several minutes.

"Enough," the man said. renee stood up and laid Diane's hand across her chest, the back damp and shiny with her cunt juice. renee walked back to his side, knelt on the floor beside him.

Diane stared at him. He hadn't been one of the men in the booth. And, where was the booth? How did she get here?

"Ah, she's awake?" Diane heard Monish's voice. He walked into the room and stood next to the man. He looked at Diane and smiled. "You made me some serious money today, honey. You deserve a present or something." He said. Then, he turned to the man in the suit and put his arm around his shoulder. "As if!" They both laughed and Monish walked to the side of the bed.

"You were pretty much out of it for the whole second half," he told her. "Don't worry, there's a video. It's up on the Internet, so you can see how well you did in the second half." He put his hand on her belly. "You passed out quite a few times. And such dirty language when they didn't let you cum!" He slapped her belly twice then stood back up.

"Scooter and renee won, by the way, did they tell you that?" She shook her head. "Yes. renee is Scooter's slave. He put her into the competition just for fun. She had a pretty strong motivation, didn't you?" Monish turned to renee.

"Yes, sir."

"Tell Diane about it."

renee stood up and looked at Diane. "If I didn't win the competition, they were going to turn me into a detox whore."

Monish looked at Diane. "Do you know what that is, dear?" She shook her head. He motioned for renee to continue.

"They get you addicted to something, then watch you go through withdrawal." Diane felt her stomach turn. Somehow, that seemed sicker than anything she'd seen so far. "The cramps, the pain, the vomiting. And, when you're clean, they do it again."

Diane looked at Monish. "You're fucking insane."

He smiled. "Well, you and I know that, but your boss doesn't know that. Your friends don't know that. Your family doesn't know that." He leaned forward onto the bed, looked at her threateningly. "And we don't want them to, do we?"

She shuddered. There had to be some way out from under this psychopath. But she couldn't see it. She wanted to kill him.

"What now?" she said, trying to get her mind off of her hatred of the putrid monster standing in front of her.

"Well, it's only about seven p.m. You have the rest of the night to yourself, I know you have to be at work early tomorrow." Monish started walking toward the door. Then, he stopped and turned. "Well, not completely to yourself. As I recall, you made a deal with renee during the contest." He walked out of the room and closed the door.

Diane looked at renee puzzled. Then, she realized she must have done something during the blackout time, the time she didn't remember. The intense time of the second go-around. "What did I say?"

renee climbed onto the bed beside Diane. She lay beside her, pushing their bodies close.

"The second time around, I had you at 9 and above for most of my five minutes. You surprised me. You couldn't take it. You begged and begged and I relented." She slid her hand underneath the sheet and touched Diane's cunt. Immediately, Diane felt herself wet and ready. She opened her legs. "I told you I wanted you to lick my pussy and you begged and begged and promised." Diane looked at renee. Her face was so soft and gentle but there was a depraved gleam in her eyes. She fingered Diane's cunt and Diane melted into the bed. "I told you I wanted you to lick my ass and you promised. I told you I wanted to see you make yourself cum and you promised..." Diane shifted her body as renee's fingers went up inside her. She started to shake, the orgasm just seconds away. "You promised I could whip you and spank you and bite you and scratch you..." renee muttered on and on, her words hypnotizing Diane while her fingers worked inside her body. Diane came and came again, arms wrapped around renee's back. "Finally, you agreed to that you would take my punishment."

renee pulled her hand away and Diane slowly drifted back to reality. She was soaked in sweat and her body needed to rest. renee stood up and walked across the room, sat in a chair and crossed her hands in her lap.

The man who was with her grabbed the sheet and yanked it off of the bed. Diane lay naked, legs spread, hands covering her cunt. "renee has been a very bad girl," he said. "Last week, we were at a party..." he walked along the side of the bed, sat down next to Diane. "...and someone wanted to take her outside in the back yard and paddle her..." he ran his fingers through Diane's hair, pushed lightly at her temples. "...renee went outside but when she saw that there were taller buildings around with open windows, she resisted. There were people looking out their windows, looking down to see what was going on." He ran his hand down her neck and over her breasts. "We thought one of them might call the police."

He stood up and motioned for Diane to stand. She slid off of the bed and stood in front of him.

"Well, you can imagine that calling the police is a very bad thing.  It didn't happen, but renee misbehaved and that is what we are concerned with. She earned a punishment." He handed Diane a robe and she pulled it on. Then, he started walking toward the door. renee got up and put on a robe as well. the three of them walked down a long hallway.

"And now it seems that you have agreed to take her punishment for her. I doubt you would have agree had you known what she was in for." He stopped at the end of the hallway and took a key out of his pocket. "But, it's too late for that now." He unlocked the door and they stepped in. They were back in the game room. This time, the screens were dark and the room was empty. He motioned for Diane to step up onto the platform. She did. renee attached one of the metal bands to Diane's left wrist. As she did, she whispered to Diane, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." She continued attaching the restraints, all the time, whispering "I'm sorry...I just can't let him do it to me again...I am so sorry..."

Diane was scared. This woman was certainly a longtime submissive, a pain slut with who knew how many years under her belt, but she was afraid of the punishment, terrified for Diane who was going to take it for her. Diane felt her body shake involuntarily. Her body knew to be afraid even if her mind didn't.

The man had left the room. Diane saw the light come on in the control room and saw him sit in one of the seats in the front row.

"What are you going to do to me?" Diane whispered. renee answered, "I am so, so very sorry..." Diane trembled, begged her for an answer.  renee kept repeating herself, finished pushing the inflatables into Diane's body, then rechecked the restraints and left the room. All of the restraint were in place except for the ones that had held her head. renee had left that free. Why?

Diane saw renee walk into the control room and sit in the chair directly beside the man. He pressed a button on the control box and the number 60:00 lit up on the window. Diane watched him but his face was a mask, froze. He didn't betray any sense of anger or mercy. He was mechanical, just fulfilling an agreement.

She heard then saw the four doors in the walls open and the whips came out again. They began stroking her, the man in the booth adjusting them for height and intensity. One of the two behind her moved up and down from her shoulders to the small of her back, the other one from her bottom then down the back of her legs to her knees. The two in front went from her neck to her navel, then from navel to knees. But they were not very strong strokes, just slightly above a tease.

"Well, that seems about right then, doesn't it?" he asked. renee nodded her head, looked at Diane. Diane saw that there were tears in her eyes. Her stomach turned. What did renee know that she didn't?

"All right then, are the cameras in place?"

Diane heard whirring around her and the three cameras adjusted themselves at various angles around the room. She saw the man turning dials on the control device, then he stood up. renee stood up as well and they both looked at Diane. He shook his head, then looked away. Diane saw that renee's eyes were still wet. The man leaned forward to kiss renee. She put her hands behind her back, tilted her head upward to receive his mouth. He ran his hands over her body, pushing the robe open and showing her flesh to Diane one last time. He turned and looked at her, eyes making contact. Then, he pressed a button on the device and sat it down on the ledge.

Diane heard the motors around her begin to move. The first stroke was from behind, the lower arm hitting hard now, much harder than before, across the back of her knees. She felt her legs go weak, her weight now completely supported by the device. The second stroke was the forward arm cutting across the skin just below her neck. She screamed from that one. Behind her, the third arm delivered a stroke across her shoulder blades, then the final stroke across her belly just above her cunt. She was on fire, he'd only been testing earlier. This was worse than anything she'd had during the Game.

The arms shifted as they flogged her, moving up or down as needed to make sure they covered her whole body. She shook her head wildly, shaking and screaming as the pain crawled over the surface of her body. She heard a tap from the window and looked up. renee was on her knees, the man's cock in her mouth. But that wasn't what he was pointing at. He was pointing at the number displayed on the window. It read 59:44. She felt herself go numb when she realized what it was. It was a countdown timer. He'd set it for one hour, that must have been renee's punishment. What renee was so afraid of and so desperate to escape. That was why she kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Diane let her head drop onto her chest as the machine continued endlessly on and on, paying absolutely no attention to her sobs or screams.

...to be continued...

[please comment if you're enjoying this series. I have several more chapters in mind but haven't proofread or spell checked them yet - I need to know if people want more...]

... from chapter 7 ...

The arms shifted as they flogged her, moving up or down as needed to make sure they covered her whole body. She shook her head wildly, shaking and screaming as the pain crawled over the surface of her body. She heard a tap from the window and looked up. renee was on her knees, the man's cock in her mouth. But that wasn't what he was pointing at. He was pointing at the number displayed on the window. It read 59:44. She felt herself go numb when she realized what it was. It was a countdown timer. He'd set it for one hour, that must have been renee's punishment. What renee was so afraid of and so desperate to escape. That was why she kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Diane let her head drop onto her chest as the machine continued endlessly on and on, paying absolutely no attention to her sobs or screams.

CHAPTER 8

Diane stared into the mirror. The woman who looked back at her scared her. She had dark circles under both eyes and swollen lips. Her hair was stringy and limp, her face pale. When she let her eyes move down the body, she saw the marks from yesterday's sessions. They began just inches below her neckline and were prominent all the way to her waist. She was wearing a pair of men's pajama bottoms but she knew that the marks continued all the way to her knees. She could feel them.

She leaned weakly against the sink, her legs barely able to support her. They'd brought her home at nine p.m. last night and she'd slept solidly until seven. The pain killers had helped, but she was still tired.

Diane ran her fingers through her hair. It was still dyed a bright red. For Curtis. For Monish. How would she explain that at work? She shook her head. Don't explain, don't complain. Or something like that. She was tired and her thinking was fuzzy. She brushed her teeth then untied the pajamas and dropped them to the floor. She didn't look at her legs, didn't want to see them. What was she doing?

She reached into the shower and turned it on, let the water warm until it was steaming hot. What was she doing? she asked herself again. But she knew. She knew that she was crossing the line between the casual SM games she'd been playing with Lars and the world Monish was pulling her into. She felt the tension between hating him for blackmailing her and the need to plunge deeper and deeper into her own depravity. She started thinking back over the last 24 hours, the machine she'd been attached to, the contest they'd had - Diane in the middle as their toy.

The mirror was steaming up from the heat in the room. Diane felt the humidity on her body, saw the shiny film reflecting the bathroom lights. In a daze, she reached up and touched her nipples, tugging them gently at first, then pulling further and further toward the mirror, twisting slightly now, feeling the rush of pain through her breast and belly and into her crotch, pinching harder now, twisting nearly all the way around, pulling forward and now sideways, the muscles in her forearms tense now as she pulled harder and harder, teeth clenching, lips pulled back, starting to moan until she's had enough, let go of both at the same time, felt the blood rush back and gasped, then stroked her clit with her finger fast and hard until she came, watching the degenrate in the mirror panting and moaning, then finally smiling and letting her face relax.

"Bates! I need to see you. Now!"

Diane nearly jumped out of her chair. Vader's voice had always startled her and now it was getting worse. There was a more aggressive tone to his voice. Had Monish sent him something? Was the game over?

Her fears grew as she walked down the hall toward his office. Rodrigo avoided her eyes and several others turned their backs on her as she walked by. Monish had done it, she knew. He'd send Vader a photo. Or a video. Or worse.

"Yes, sir?" she asked timidly, stepping into his office.

"Close the door," Vader said, not looking up from his desk. Diane closed the door and walked closer to the desk. "I need you to review some of Bailey's work." She was shocked. When Bailey first appeared last week - seemingly out of nowhere - it had seemed clear that he was there to review *her* work. Now the tables were turned?

"Did you notice something?" she asked, trying to keep her calm.

"No. But you might." He pushed a report toward her but kept his eyes on the form he was filling out. "That's all."

Diane picked up the folder and walked out of the room, puzzled and disoriented. Was this a game? Something Monish and Bailey had set up to confuse her even more? She walked back to her desk, feeling more and more that she was losing her grip on reality. She nearly tripped over her own feet on the way back to her chair. She collapsed in it and put her head down on her desk.

"I like the red hair."

Diane didn't budge, didn't look up. She recognized Bailey's voice immediately. What did he want? Was he going to take her into the elevator again? Or into a meeting room somewhere?

"You must have met Curtis," he said in a quiet voice. Diane didn't raise her head, didn't say anything. "I'll see you at lunch time. Downstairs. In the loading dock." He walked calmly out of her office. Diane took slow breaths, trying to keep herself calm. Bailey bothered her more than the others. Why?

"Hi. I like the new look." She looked up. It was Rodrigo, one of her few remaining connetions with the world of normal people. She tried to smile. "Thanks, just trying something out."

"Is the new guy bothering you?"

"No, no, just asking some questions about expenses," he lied.

"Right," Rodrigo said mercifully. "Listen, he's got quite an attitude so don't let him bother you. I heard someone upstairs pulled some strings and got him assigned to Vader. Nobody knows why." I know why, Diane thought. I know exactly why. Of course, she couldn't tell Rodrigo.

"Well, if you need anything, jsut let me know, OK?" Rodrigo said, then turned and went back into his cubicle. Good old Rodrigo, she thought. A normal human being.

Bailey took her to the loading dock Monday afternoon, then again before they went home for the day. Diane was awake all of Monday night, unable to sleep. Most of her body still ached from the weekend and she was unable to find a comfortable position. She thought about a drink or more pain killers, but something about the pain felt good. Three times Monday night, she fingered herself to climax. She finally fell asleep around four, then the alarm rang at six.

Tuesday was more of the same, Bailey at lunchtime and no phone calls from Monish or Lars all night long. This time, she fell asleep at two, got a whole four hours of sleep.

By Wednesday, she was stumbling around the kitchen, zombie-like from sleep deprivation. She caught herself heading out of the house with her blouse unbottoned and only one shoe. This was insane, she thought.

After she parked the car, instead of heading into the office, she went to the Walgreen's down the street. She read the labels on the various over-the-counter speed products she knew about, diet pills, energy drinks, and finally settled on D-----. She picked up a box with 24 pills, paid for it, and swallowed four as soon as she got to her desk. She got through the morning all right but felt a slump in the midafternoon and too another two.

Just before five o'clock, Bailey came by her cubicle and handed her a slip of paper. At six, Diane handed her keys to the valet at the hotel Bailey had written down. At six ten, she was naked on her knees while Bailey opened a small suitcase that contained a variety of paddles, crops, and floggers. At eight thirty, Diane was in the lobby bar sipping red wine and eating a salad. After Bailey had finished using her, he'd taken a break and handed her an envelope. Monish would be picking her up at the hotel at nine o'clock.  She knew he would keep her out all night and that she would need to be ready for work tomorrow. She laid her head on the table and tried to fall asleep but couldn't.

When Monish's driver showed up for her, she told him to wait while she swallowed two more of the pills.

"Diane?"

Diane rolled over on the sofa and tried to open her eyes. Her body wouldn't respond.

"Diane?" She felt a hand on her shoulder, someone shaking her. She jerked up, opened her eyes and saw Jorge, one of Monish's men. He slapped her across the face. "Wakey, wakey, Miss Bates." She rubbed her eyes stretched.

"What time?" she muttered.

"Four o'clock." He said, his grin getting wider. He reached for the brown paper bag on the floor and pushed it into her lap. "Here. Get dressed. I will be in the car. You have five minutes."

Diane stood up, steadying herself on the arm of the sofa. She felt sick, ran into the bathroom and threw up. The room was spinning. She turned on the tap and filled a glass with cold water, started to drink it but couldn't finish it. She brushed her teeth and ran the comb through her hair. Then, she pulled open the medicine cabinet and found the box of pills, pushed four of them out of their plastic holders and swallowed them.

The clothes in the bag were a complete surprise. A frumpy, brown and tan striped skirt, a plain tan shirt and a dark brown vest. She looked like an old-fashioned librarian with bad taste. The stockings were tan rollups and the shoes were plain brown flats. Even her underwear looked like something her mother might have worn. She looked horrible, an outfit she might wear in an old folks home. On a bad day.

The pills started kicking in while they were in the van. Her hands trembled slightly and she started feeling anxious. She turned around and saw the other two men in the back of the van and had an urge to go in the back with them. That was the usual routine, whoever picked her up passed her around in the back. But this time, Monish had Jorge put her in the front seat. There had to be a reason.

The van pulled up at a cheap motel. Jorge motioned and she followed him across the parking lot and up the stairs to the second floor. He knocked at the third door. The light inside came on and a hand pulled back the curatin. A woman's face looked out, then dropped the curtain back. After a few seconds, the light went out.

Diane looked at Jorge and he smiled. "Let's try the next one."

"What the hell?"

He took her by the wrist and walked to the next door. They tried three more rooms before someone opened the door. Three drunken college-aged kids high-fived each other as they took turns with her for the next two hours. Jorge had told them a story about her being a lonely, frustrated housewife who wanted to experience some young cock. Diane knew that everything would change if they saw her naked, so she immediately climbed on the bed on her hands and knees and pulled her skirt up around her waist, offering her already-wet cunt to them.

The first one fucked her that way, but the other two insisted on seeing her naked. Jorge told her to strip and she slowly peeled off her clothes, they grew more and more quiet. Even now, four days after the Game, her body was still marked. The men didn't know what to do, they spanked her bottom with open hands a few times, but none of them were very much into it and they ended up back on the bed with her, taking her one at a time missionary style.

At six thirty, Jorge clapped his hands and told them they had to be leaving. Diane had to get to work. He handed each of them a card with his name and telephone number and told them to call anytime they wanted to have some fun.

Diane got dressed and they went back to the van. Jorge and the others took turns with her until eight, when they drove her to work. The van pulled into the service entrance and parked near the elevator.

Diane looked at herself, then at  Jorge. "Can I go home and change?" she asked. He laughed. She protested, "I can't go in dresed like this! This is an office building, I look like a fucking bag lady!"

Jorge threw her a hairbrush and a tube of cheap red lipstick. "Do your best." He turned around in his seat and flicked on the radio. A loud country song started playing. He turned back to her. "I believe you have a meeting at nine, so you'd better hurry up."

She did her best to make herself presentable but after four hours of hard fucking and with these cheap clothes, it was an impossible task.

Jorge watched her, then held out his hand for the brush and lipstick. "Monish said that someone in the building wanted to see you like this. Some kind of freaky-assed fetish." They all laughed. One of the other says, "I guess maybe he had a crush on his grandma!"

Diane felt her stomach sink. "Someone" in the building wanted her to dress this way. Bailey? If it wasn't Bailey, that meant someone *else* knew. How wide would the circle get before everything came to the surface and she lost her job?

Bailey fucked her again at lunch time, she popped more of the pills to get over the mid-afernoon slump. Vader talked to her twice about her accounts, she was neglecting them and he was getting reports from some of her customers that she was off her game. She'd cut two of them off during calls (the pills were affecting her temper and she was always on the edge of screaming at their insipid comments), she'd made three costly mistakes in her calculations (her trembling fingers - hopped up from the pills and caffeine - were having a hard time working the keyboard), and her appearance was sliding (customers were noticing that her clothes often looked like they'd been slept in and she looked exhausted all the time).  He told her that he was disappointed in her. She'd always been one of their top producers and he thought of her as family. That brought tears to her eyes. She knew that their relationship had always been close, not just a professional bond but a personal one as well.

Rodrigo talked to her as well. He said that he was worried she might be going through some kind of personal crisis, maybe even a nervous breakdown.

"We've worked together a long time, Diane. Since the old building, remember?" She watched his face as he spoke. He had deep, dark brown eyes and rich black hair. "I remember when you first came on board, they paired us up in those classes on compliance." She tried to focus but could only watch his lips, imagined what it would be like to kiss them, to run her tongue over his teeth. "You know I'm always available to have lunch or something and just talk about what's going on." She imagined running her fingers over his cafe latte colored skin, feeling his cock inside her while he fucked her. She was getting excited and wet, felt her nipples stiffen underneath the heavy cotton bra.

"Diane? Did you hear me?" She snapped back and thanked him, said she would be OK, then got up and walked to the Ladie's room. Inside, she swallowed four more of the pills, then let the basin fill with water. She leaned over and closed her eyes, splashed the cool water on her face, enjoyed how it felt. When she stood up, she saw that someone had come out of one of the stalls and was staring at her.

The other woman smiled. Diane looked at her and panicked. The woman was wearing a very plain, light grey woolen skirt, a grey blouse and a vest. Was it her? Was she the one who'd told Monish to dress Diane this way? The woman's face was gaunt and stern, a prison guard or a wicked stepmother. Her neck was wiry and the veins showed. Diane felt a rush of heat between her legs. She imagined the woman walking over to her, pushing her face down against the cool marble sink, pushing her hand up between Diane's legs and roughly shoving her fingers inside her cunt. She felt herself gushing again, her cunt and clit swelling up. The woman gave her a strange look, then quickly eyeballed her head to toe. Diane felt the look like a hand, touching each part of her body, waves of arousal washing over her.

"What do you want me to do?" Diane asked in a whisper. The woman stood still for a moment, then asked, "I beg your pardon?" Diane felt crushed now, she'd imagined the whole thing. "Sorry, I thought you said something," Diane stammered. The woman turned and walked out of the room. Diane leaned against the sink for a long time, wondering if she had lost it.

Life went on pretty much like that for the next two weeks. Diane avoided Lars, serviced Bailey at least once every day, and Monish had her sent out on "engagements" from six at night till three or four in the morning every day. Both weekends were full. She spent the first weekend being driven from hotel to hotel, sleeping three hours on Friday night and four on Saturday. The second weekend, she was flown to a nearby city and was the main exhibit during a three day demonstration of bondage and restraint equipment.

She didn't sleep at all that second weekend. She was surviving on caffeine and pills. She'd lost twenty pounds and was constantly aroused now. At work, Rodrigo had started avoiding her and Vader had given her a verbal reprimand about her performance. Her two biggest accounts had been turned over to Bailey, who enjoyed bragging about it while he was using her in a closet or on the loading dock or at his apartment. Even Bailey had started pimping her now. To the same man twice, but he was clearly looking for ways to improve his cash flow.

CHAPTER 09

One Tuesday evening, things took an unexpected turn.

Diane had dinner with three women who had leased her from Monish. That was the way he liked to talk about their "arrangement". He was 'leasing her out'. It sounded so much better than 'pimping her out'. They'd taken her back to a house in the suburbs with a converted basement. There were several restraint systems, from simple stocks and a pillar to ingenious devices attached to the ceiling and walls that could be adjusted to restrain her in nearly any position. The basement was soundproofed and the windows covered. Diane wasn't gagged during their four hour session, but one of the women - Katie - did have to stick cotton in her ears because Diane's screams were annoying her.

...please comment or email if you would like this series continued...

... from Chapter 08 ...

She didn't sleep at all that second weekend. She was surviving on caffeine and pills. She'd lost twenty pounds and was constantly aroused now. At work, Rodrigo had started avoiding her and Vader had given her a verbal reprimand about her performance. Her two biggest accounts had been turned over to Bailey, who enjoyed bragging about it while he was using her in a closet or on the loading dock or at his apartment. Even Bailey had started pimping her now. To the same man twice, but he was clearly looking for ways to improve his cash flow.

CHAPTER 9 [tuesday, week 4 of the timeline]

One Tuesday evening, things took an unexpected turn.

Diane had dinner with three women who had leased her from Monish. That was the way he liked to talk about their "arrangement". He was 'leasing her out'. It sounded so much better than 'pimping her out'. They'd taken her back to a house in the suburbs with a converted basement. There were several restraint systems, from simple stocks and a pillar to ingenious devices attached to the ceiling and walls that could be adjusted to restrain her in nearly any position. The basement was soundproofed and the windows covered. Diane wasn't gagged during their four hour session, but one of the women - Katie - did have to stick cotton in her ears because Diane's screams were annoying her.

The woman who was running the session - Saabira - was methodical and thorough. She began simply, with Diane naked in the center of the room, wrists tied with leather thongs and secured to a large iron ring in the rafters above her head.

She stepped to the wall and removed a paddle. It was a dark brown color, 24 inches long, four inches across and less than half an inch thick. There were half-inch holes drilled in rows down the center and along the sides. She held it up to Diane's face.

"This is a paddle I had made specially. Years of research and trial and error have perfected it." She stood behind Diane, tilted her head and identified her target - the outside of Diane's left hip. Whack! Diane's body jerked but she bit her lip and was silent. "Over the years, I have used thick and thin cuts of wood..." She stepped slightly to the side and brought it down on her left ass cheek. Whack! Diane squeezed her eyes tight. "...fiberglass and a variety of plastics. Each has its strengths and weaknesses." She walked around and stood directly in front of Diane, looking her in the eye. "This one has been with me for more than three years now." Her voice was completely calm, but compelled absolute attention, exuded command and control. Diane imagined that even a whisper could sound threatening.

She stepped back without breaking eye contact and in a single motion swung her arm wide and brought it down across the outside of Diane's left breast. She screamed. The pain was incredible, she was on fire.

As Diane hung limp, trembling and trying to catch her breath, the woman motioned to Katie to blindfold Diane. Diane hated that, hated not knowing when the next blow was coming from or where. No doubt Saabira had sensed that. She planted her feet on the ground, slightly apart, and regained her balance and composure.

Saabira started talking again. Her voice was soothing and terrifying. She spoke in nearly a monotone, which Diane found more frightening than if she had been ranting. It indicated a sense of absolute control, of an unyielding nature, of a woman who might do anything to her and never think twice about it.

"Aaaaaaargggggggg!!!!!!" Diane screamed as she felt the paddle across the fronts of her thighs. She bent her knees, raising both feet off of the ground, stayed that way for several seconds.

"The alloy is a carbon fibre with a core of cork. The holes..." Whack! This time, the pain ran up the outside of her right thigh. "...allow the air to flow through, increasing the sting." Whack! across her belly, just below her breasts. Diane twisted, raising one leg then the other, an obscene pain dance that made Katie and the third woman lean closer.

Saabira stopped talking now and worked her way around Diane, shifting her blows from top to bottom, side to side, never giving her a chance to even guess where the next one might land. Diane struggled blow after blow, pulling hard on the straps and lifting herself off the ground, twisting and turning, begging.

After ten minutes, she stopped squirming, stopped jerking her knees up after each blow, stopped twisting to avoid the next one. She was broken. She surrendered and let herself drift out into an ocean of pain, muttering, screaming, moaning, all at random because none of it mattered. The pain would come no matter what sounds she made and none would make it any less intense.

When Saabira saw her go limp, she stopped. Saabira was a master. Diane knew it immediately.  There was no point going on now. Not until Diane had recovered. They both knew that was when she would start again.

She worked in ten to twelve minute sessions, that seemed to be Diane's limit. Saabira changed tools as she went, another way to keep Diane from anticipating and dealing with the pain. Between the third and fourth session, Katie explained to Diane that Saabira's name meant "patience". They had given her that name years ago, when they'd seen how she took her time, never lost her temper, was always looking for new and better methods.

Diane took it all in through her exhaustion. She learned that the third woman was named Masozi. Diane would be given to her last. She felt herself completely hopeless now. If Saabira was the warm-up act, what could she expect from a woman whose name meant "tears"?

When Saabira's hour was up, Diane was untied and carried to the bed. She was murmuring and barely conscious, afraid what they might do next. She felt Katie kissing her forehead and closed her eyes. Whatever they were preparing her for, she could at least enjoy this.

Katie slowly ran her tongue across Diane's hairline, then down the side of her face. Diane's body - exhausted and sticky with sweat - responded. Her knees fell open and her nipples stiffened. Katie climbed onto the bed and put her mouth on Diane's. They kissed gently for a long time. Diane felt Katie's fingers lightly travelling over her belly, then sliding through her pussy hair. She tried to raise her arms to stroke Katie but Katie gently pushed them back. "Receive," Katie whispered, then slowly licked her way to Diane's nipple. Diane came, then came again as Katie slid a finger up inside her. Katie kissed her way down Diane's body, finally settling her tongue between Diane's soaking wet cunt lips. She licked and sucked, up and down, around, until Diane was flailing on the bed, screaming her orgasms, hands clenching the bedsheets, hips bucking up and down against Katie's face.

"No, no, stop, too sensitive...no, no..." Diane moaned but Katie kept licking and she kept cumming. She lost track of where she was, who she was, what was happening. Diane passed out  and Saabira leaned over her, lightly slapping her cheek until she came to. When she opened her eyes, Katie was still licking her and she came again. They kept at it for an entire hour, Katie relentlessly licking, fingers plunging inside Diane's soaking wet, wildly clenching cunt, Diane twisting and turning, screaming orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. H er body tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed until her muscles couldn't do it again. Then, they did it again. Diane tensed every muscle and came shrieking, then passed out again.

When she came to this time, she saw a black woman's face hovering in front of hers. The woman was beautiful. Rich, flawless, dark-chocolate skin, bright black eyes, a wide flat nose, and thick, sensuous lips. Diane felt her entire body on fire, this was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. She radiated confidence and power, dripped sensuality and the promise of never-ending pleasure.

"Ah, you are back with us," she said in a formal and slightly accented voice. She stepped back and Diane saw her body. She was naked, her flesh the beautiful kind of black that almost shone blue. She was muscular, every inch of her firm and bespeaking hours in the gym. Or on the hunt. Diane blushed, that was a racist thought, wasn't it? But she imagined this woman standing naked and proud on a plain somewhere, blood spattered, holding a sword and a shield, standing over the slaughtered bodies of a dozen men who had tried to have their way with her.

Her breasts were huge and firm, the nipples black and stiff. Her skin shone, had she oiled herself for effect? Or was she sweaty from anticipation? Or did her skin just shine like that? Diane's eyes drank in her body and she felt her cunt lips swelling between her legs, she wanted to touch this woman, to lick her, to be her slave, for pain or pleasure. Anything to be in this woman's presence and in this woman's power.

"Are you ready?" Masozi asked.

Diane tried to speak but her throat was dry and choked. She was so aroused by this woman's body that she couldn't even form words. Her eyes moved up and down from Masozi's dark eyes to her full mouth to her clean-trimmed cunt and back.

Masozi watched her and Diane turned red with humiliation. Masozi stepped close to her, reached and took her chin in her hand. "You see me, don't you?" Pause. "You want me, don't you? You want me to own you. You want to be on your knees before me?" Diane shuddered with lust and shame. How did she know? How did she know? Diane felt a hand between her legs, two fingers opening her slick lips and she shook, her entire body shaking now. When Masozi's finger grazed her clitoris, she came, moaning loudly and leaning forward hard.

The black woman stared at her and smiled, then stepped back slowly, their eyes locked. Diane was completely broken and Masozi had not even begun to abuse her. Masozi walked out of the room and the other two women followed. The lights went out and Diane stood naked and trembling in the darkness.

Diane blinked herself awake when the lights came on. She watched silently as the three women filed back into the room. Masozi was still naked except for several leather bands. She wore one on each ankle and one on each wrist. These were a dark tanned leather and each had a large brass buckle and brass O rings.

There were similar thick leather bands around both of her upper arms and near the top of both thighs. Each of those had a small silver medallion and thin leather strings hanging from them. A combination of slave and warrior costuming? Diane wondered what it meant to Masozi. She would leave still wondering.

Masozi closed the door behind her and walked directly to Diane. She stood in front of her and stared into her eyes. Without a word, she slapped her across the face several times, then spit at her. Diane felt the warm saliva dripping down her left cheek and onto her lips.

"Lick it," Masozi said, still not breaking eye contact. Diane opened her trembling lips and licked the spittle. Masozi turned and walked away, toward a cabinet recessed into the wall. "Untie her."

Katie and Saabira untied Diane from the overhead ring and removed the straps from her wrists. They pushed her to her knees, Katie's foot opening her legs wide, Saabira taking hold of her arms and pulling them behind her, crossing them at the elbows.

Masozi returned with a small box, opened it up and handed Diane a metal clamp. Obediently, Diane took it and attached it to her right nipple. The second went to the left, then two more on each of her cunt lips.

"Stand."

Diane stood, feeling the bit of the clamps between her legs but afraid to say anything. Masozi slapped her hard across the breasts, the clamps biting hard, Diane's eyes welling with tears. She kept slapping. The clamps slowly slid, with each slap they held less and less nipple. The pain was excruciating and Diane began to sob. Masozi stopped and ran a finger up Diane's cheek. "Tears."

Diane squirmed. With the clamp barely holding in, the pain was intense. She was desperate to reattach it, further up, give it less bite but she couldn't. Her body shook from the intense pain but she knew not to touch the clamp. She began to whimper, softly at first, but then louder and louder. Masozi reached her finger out slowly, then ran it through the loop attached to the left nipple clamp. She tugged and Diane stiffened and screamed. The clamp didn't come off, it just slid a horrible millimeter forward. She was dripping sweat now, her body awash in pain. Masozi yanked the clamp forward and Diane gasped, barely stopped herself from falling over. The tears were streaming freely down her face now, soaking her neck and titties.

Masozi adjusted both nipple clamps and Diane was able to settle down just a bit.

"Walk."

Diane followed Masozi a few steps toward the wall until she was standing above a single iron ring cemented into the floor. Masozi handed her two thin cables and pointed to the ring, then to the clamps that hung from Diane's cunt lips. Diane wasn't certain what to do, but she reached down and threaded the thin cables through the ring on the floor, then through the rings between her legs. Masozi nodded. Then, she motioned for Katie and Saabira to stand behind Diane. They did. Once they were in place, Masozi said,

"Squat."

Diane was puzzled but afraid. She bent her knees and squatted, her thighs parallel to the floor. She didn't understand what Masozi was doing until she felt the tug between her legs. Katie and Saabira were tightening the cables between her cunt and the floor. When she realized what they were doing, she started sobbing, begging Masozi. "Oh, please! I know what you're doing, Please, please, I'll do anything, I'll give you anything, Oh, great Goddess, oh please, Please!" Masozi stepped forward and pushed Diane's face into her crotch. Diane smelled the warmth of her cunt and immediately began lapping at her pussy lips and clit, eager to please her Mistress, desperate for this to be over. She felt Masozi's hand behind her head, pulling her close. She couldn't breath through her nose, had to gasp for air between the slurping noises coming from her mouth. Diane felt a tongue pushing at her ass and jerked, screamed as the cables tightened and ripped at her cunt lips. Masozi slapped her face and pushed her mouth back against her cunt. Diane felt a finger slide into her pussy and another rubbing her clit. Her legs were trembling already, she knew that if she came, she'd jerk upward or forward and was terrified of the pain. She focused on the cunt she was licking, slurping and listening to the sounds of her own degradation. Masozi showed no signs of interest in cumming, just in humiliating the bitch between her legs. Diane felt something tugging at her nipples now, caught motion out of the corner of her eye and relaized that Katie was attaching weights to the rings of the nipple clamps.

"Focus!" Masozi yelled and slapped her again. Diane worked her tongue in hard circles around Masozi's clit - a big thick thumb of flesh now - and savored the taste of her pussy juices. Her legs were on fire, she was terrified they would cramp, the pain was shooting down her calves and into her ankles and heels now. The finger on her clit was unyielding and she knew she couldn't stop from cumming. She tensed her belly and ass hoping she could stay in position when she came, wondering if she could drop to her knees or if she could...Slap! "Focus, bitch!" Masozi yelled and Diane stared licking up and down now, pushing hard then soft, waiting for Masozi to show some signs of arousal but she was calm as could be, she was patient too, in no rush for Diane to finish with her but Diane was desparate to cum and focused again on the feeling between her legs. A finger was up inside her ass now, when did it go in? and the finges inside her cunt were spreading wide, now closing together, now spreading, now..."Aaaaaarrrrrrhrhhhhhh........." she yelled as she came, then her ass jerked and she screamed louder as the clamps were torn off of her cunt flesh, her legs not in her control anymore and she lurched forward, arms around Masozi's hips now, face buried between her cunt lips. She felt a flood of warm, clear liquid shooting into her mouth, overflowing and running down her chin, splashing loudly onto the floor and finally, finally Masozi made a low grunting noise deep in her throat as she came.

... to be continued ...

... from chapter 09 ...

"Focus!" Masozi yelled and slapped her again. Diane worked her tongue in hard circles around Masozi's clit - a big thick thumb of flesh now - and savored the taste of her pussy juices. Her legs were on fire, she was terrified they would cramp, the pain was shooting down her calves and into her ankles and heels now. The finger on her clit was unyielding and she knew she couldn't stop from cumming. She tensed her belly and ass hoping she could stay in position when she came, wondering if she could drop to her knees or if she could...Slap! "Focus, bitch!" Masozi yelled and Diane stared licking up and down now, pushing hard then soft, waiting for Masozi to show some signs of arousal but she was calm as could be, she was patient too, in no rush for Diane to finish with her but Diane was desperate to cum and focused again on the feeling between her legs. A finger was up inside her ass now, when did it go in? and the fingers inside her cunt were spreading wide, now closing together, now spreading, now..."Aaaaaarrrrrrhrhhhhhh........." she yelled as she came, then her ass jerked and she screamed louder as the clamps were torn off of her cunt flesh, her legs not in her control anymore and she lurched forward, arms around Masozi's hips now, face buried between her cunt lips. She felt a flood of warm, clear liquid shooting into her mouth, overflowing and running down her chin, splashing loudly onto the floor and finally, finally Masozi made a low grunting noise deep in her throat as she came.

CHAPTER 10 [Week 4 Weds thru Week 5 Tuesday]

Diane was distracted all day Wednesday. The women had sent her home at three in the morning, mentally exhausted and physically drained. She tried to sleep but it was impossible. Her body was alive with pain and desire. She remembered every gentle stroke of Katie's tongue between her legs and every swat from Saabira's evil synthetic paddle. But most of all, she remembered her first look at Masozi, dark chocolate colored skin naked and glistening, proud in her leather straps. Even now, just before lunchtime a day later, it sent a shudder through her and she felt her pussy get wet.

She'd pushed paper all morning, finished a few reports, and sat through a boring fiscal review with Vader, Rodrigo, Bailey and the others. A typical boring day. She caught Bailey looking at her and tried to avoid his eyes. Vader caught it too, smiled. Was something going on between Vader and Bailey? Diane still wondered how he had conveniently shown up here just a few short weeks ago. Did Vader know more than he was letting on?

Calm yourself, girl, she thought. That way lies paranoia.

The meeting ended and they all filed back to their cubicles. Rodrigo asked her if she wanted to walk downstairs and get a coffee, maybe relax a bit, but she said no. He shrugged and went back to his desk.

Diane felt bad, Rodrigo had always been there for her and she wasn't giving him the time of day. Maybe she should just walk around the corner, give him a big smile, then get on her knees between his legs and...she shook her head. What the hell was she thinking? Diane felt a cold chill run through her. Were the lines between her worlds breaking down? Work, Lars, and Monish. The three universes in which she moved had to be kept separate and distinct, it was the only way to stay sane. Lars and the casual SM games they played were the only area of control she had left. Work was going to be what it was - a convenient career choice without much to look forward to - and Monish was just evil. He'd put her in a vicious circle. Blackmailing her to service his sick and twisted clients, all the time taking more pictures and making more movies of her, giving him more and more material to blackmail her with. That would eventually be her life, she knew it. Everything else would crumble - the job could lay her off, Lars and his friends might lose interest - but Monish would keep her around until he could no longer make any money selling her to pervert after pervert after pervert. No, she had to do whatever she could to keep those works apart.

She popped two more of her diet pills (for energy), then went downstairs and bought two cafe lattes, brought them back up and offered one to Rodrigo.

"Sorry I was a little stand-offish earlier," Diane apologized, handing him the cup. "I woke up with a bad headache," she lied.

They sipped coffee for several minutes without talking. The silence was uncomfortable, he had always been so easy to talk to before. "So, how are you doing, Diane? Really," he asked. She felt an unexplainable anger rising up inside her. How the fuck am I doing?! My life is falling apart! I am being blackmailed by a psychopath who seems to know every bottom-dweller in the city and has no qualms about letting them take me apart piece by piece, tying me up, whipping me, flogging me, fucking me...

"Diane?"

She snapped back and noticed that her entire body was clenched tight like a fist. Her eyes were watering, the coffee cup in her hand shaking.

"Rodrigo, I'm sorry..." she sobbed and walked down the hall toward the bathroom. On the way, she saw Bailey walking toward her. She tried to stand straighter, blink the water from her eyes but it was too late. He'd seen her. As he walked past, he whispered, "that's more like it."

She pushed the back-room door open and ran into one of the stalls, hung her head over the edge of the bowl and threw up. She watched the brown liquid dissipate in a small spiral into the cool water and thought about the pool of liquid she'd found herself kneeling in when Masozi came. She smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. Tears for 'tears'.

Thursday was uneventful as well. Bailey saw her at the elevator but didn't say anything. Monish didn't call. She considered phoning Lars to see if they could get a scene together but decided instead that she could use a good night's sleep. She was still popping the energy pills but had felt so good after a full night's sleep last night that she wanted to try it again.

At just before four o'clock, her friend Carol called and asked if she wanted to have dinner and catch a movie. Diane thought about it and decided 'why not?'.

They took a taxi to their favorite Italian restaurant and gorged on antipasto, gnocchi and red wine. After that, they walked the two blocks to the movie theater and sat through a romantic comedy. Diane found herself turning to stare at her friend's profile, looking at the turn of her chin, her neck, the bit of exposed chest between the buttons of her bright red dress. She closed her eyes and thought about pressing her lips to Carol's, parting them slightly, waiting to see how she would react. She felt her nipples stiffen and uncrossed her legs, letting her knees open slightly. Suddenly, the audience laughed at someone on the screen and Diane's eyes sprung open. She looked over and saw that her fingers were interlaced with Carol's. She had reached over and taken her hand without even realizing it. Carol turned and looked at her and smiled. A naive and innocent smile. Diane felt crushed, felt like a pervert, the worst kind of predatory lesbian sniffing around for pussy. Carol was her best friend, they'd know each other since grade school, and she was thinking of her as a sex partner.

"What?" Carol giggled. Diane felt herself welling up with tears and started to sob. She leaped to her feet and ran out of the theater.

Carol called several times that night and again the next morning but Diane couldn't bring herself to talk to her. She phoned Carol's office just before noon and asked the receptionist to take a message but not put her through. She just said "very stressed at work, sorry. Let's have lunch next week." She prayed it would calm her friend.

Vader brought her in for a pep talk, told her how much better she was looking this week than last week, hoped it was a good sign and that whatever she was going through - and you know you can always come talk to me - was over. She smiled and nodded, told him 'thanks for hanging in there with me.' Her gut was tight as a knot for lying to him, getting his hopes up that his employee was getting back to normal when she knew she was nowhere near that.

"Bailey asked if he could have you help him with a client on Monday. You ready for it?" Diane knew she had to say yes, though spending time with Bailey was the last thing she wanted to do. Vader slid a thick manila envelope across the desk. "Read this over the weekend. He'll do most of the talking but he wants you briefed." She nodded.

Vader gave her a big fatherly smile and shook her hand. "I know you won't let me down."

Diane felt a sense of relief as she walked back to her desk. Maybe life was getting back to normal - at least for a little. She opened the envelope and started reading the twenty page report. Her focus was back, the numbers made sense, she even jotted some notes in the columns about way they might make the proposal better. Bailey was good, but she had more experience.

At three o'clock, she took a break and had a candy bar and a cup of coffee, said "hi" to Rodgiro as she walked back from the vending machines. She picked the report back up and made a second pass at the numbers, noting another assumption Bailey had made she would need to ask him about.

At four, Monish phoned her and told her he would send a car for her at five. She was going back to see Curtis. She pushed the report aside and dropped her head on the desk and cried. He was never going to go away, was he?

Diane sat in the back of the BMW between two huge men in black slacks, black shirts, and black sunglasses. She felt herself growing more and more anxious as they drove further from town. Curtis and another man - Curtis called him Joe - sat in the front seat, Joe driving. They were talking business, international IP laws and investments, football scores, and tax shelters. High rollers.

The car left the city and drove through a run down neighborhood, littered with abandoned cars and burned out buildings. They drove nearly an hour before they pulled into a parking lot. It was in a remote industrial park and the rusty building they parked in front of was surrounded by dozens of others - mostly vacant or abandoned.

Joe walked around and opened Curtis' door, then opened the back door and motioned to the men. They got out and escorted Diane between them into one of the buildings. Curtis explained that it was a small warehouse he'd used when he was starting in his computer business. He'd used it regularly back then. He'd been building and selling his own machines, but now he worked mainly in software so the space was largely unused. Except for sex games.

She listened to their footsteps echo off of the metal walls as they walked across the concrete then up the steps to the second floor. The floor was not at all what she expected. Rather than computer gear - long tables of monitors, boxes, and wires - there were several pieces of heavy machinery. She recognized a metal lathe and drill press from a class she'd taken in college. There were several other big machines she didn't recognize - massive hunks of green metal with shiny brass and silver bits gleaming.

"You know that tonight is all about your titties, right?" Curtis asked. Diane trembled, remembering Julie and the rubber bands. She looked at the machines again, this time seeing them in a completely different light. They now looked like Medieval torture devices - ancestors of the Rack, the Wheel, the Iron Maiden. What did he have in mind? She turned and looked at him, realized that her entire body was shivering. From the pills? The cold? Or from fear? She tried to slow her breathing, but panic was setting in. They could do anything to her out here. She was in the middle of nowhere, more than an hour from the city, completely at the mercy of Curtis - who she knew was a master at summoning pain - and three other men who might be worse. She felt her knees go limp and collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

The two monsters who had been in the back seat with her picked her up and carried her across the floor. She was completely limp, had no resistance left in her. Until they laid her on a metal table and started strapping her down. She bolted upright, arms and legs flailing, kicking and hammering at them. They barely noticed. They just smiled and went about their business, pushing her back on the table and strapping her wrists and ankles, then across the belly and legs.

Curtis and the two men stepped into the background and Joe rolled a metal table up beside Diane. "Curtis promised me you would be a good girl." He stroked her hair and looked into her eyes. "Will you be a good girl?" She stared at him. He radiated pure evil and she quivered. She felt his hand between her legs, pushing her skirt up, sliding her panties down, fingering her. Even with the fear that was swallowing her alive, she couldn't resist his touch. He worked her slowly toward orgasm, his other hand stroking her forehead gently the whole time. She turned and looked at Curtis and the two goons. Their eyes burned into her, each of them devouring her in their own way. She came quickly, thrashing against the table for an eternity before he stopped touching her.

Joe leaned over and unbuttoned the front of her blouse, unsnapped the front of her brassiere and pulled the material back, exposing her large and soft breasts to the chilly air. He rubbed them, shook them, cupped them. "Yes, these will do," he judged.

Diane watched with growing horror as he turned and picked up a large bottle labeled "saline". Then, he picked up a metal syringe. He held it in front of his face, looking at the six inch needle and nodding. He pushed the needle through the neck of the bottle and she watched as he drew back the plunger and filled the syringe with liquid. Then, he sat the bottle down on the table and cupped her left breast again. "Yes, these will do nicely." He leaned over her and pressed the tip of the needle against the base of her nipple.

Monish pressed the pause button and leaned forward. Diane pulled her head back, careful to keep his cock in her mouth. "Keep suckin', bitch," he growled. She plunged his cock deep into her throat again and he smiled. "That's more like it."

His eyes were transfixed on the screen. "How the fuck much did they pump into those sacks of yo's? They look like fuckin' balloons!" He pressed the Play button and settled back into the sofa again. Diane tried to keep her body as still as she could while she sucked Monish, her tits were still in agony. Curtis had sent her home this morning, after nearly thirty-six hours of non-stop tittie torture. She had her tits strapped tight to her chest with Ace bandages, trying to keep them as still as possible, trying to keep the pain to a minimum.

"What the fuck is that? He's doing it again? How many times did he shoot that shit up into yo' titties?" Diane kept sucking, hope he would just keep talking until he came. Monish could be distracted. Sometimes. "I gotta rewind this fucker." He pressed the button and Diane heard the scratchy backward sound of Joe's voice. Then, he hit Play again and Joe was describing to her how careful he had to be to make sure he didn't do any permanent damage to her body. How long it took each cc of saline to absorb into the body, how many days she'd be a tit freak before she was back to normal. She felt herself sinking again, tried to focus on the cock in her mouth.

Monish had come alone today, that was a surprise to her. And he'd only pimped her out once last week. Maybe he was getting tired of her. Maybe this weekend was an anomaly. Maybe she could have her life back soon. The thought lifted her spirits a little. She slurped Monish's cock, feeling it filling her mouth, feeling something like a normal woman again.

"Whoa! Hold it!" Monish said, sitting forward again. "Look at them nipples!" He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head up, turned it toward the television. It was a cut from later that day. Joe had attached her to a suction machine for more than an hour and her nipples were stiff and nearly two inches long. She looked ridiculous, huge balloon titties each with a dark finger sticking out of it, pointing upward.

"You gotta show 'em to me again. Stand up!" Diane got to her feet, standing between him and the television. She knew that the next shots would have been of them starting to hurt her and she hoped she could block his view. She didn't want him getting any ideas.

"Unwrap, bitch," he growled. Diane gently undid the velcro at the end of the bandage and started unwrapping. Her titties were still huge, swollen and hard from the injections. The skin was stretched tight and thin. Every nerve ending was exposed and they were incredibly sensitive.

"Shake 'em. C'mon, up and down." Diane moved her hips and they swayed gently from side to side. "Not like that, goddam' bitch!" She started to run in place, her huge titties rising and falling. It was painful but nothing like what Curtis and Joe had done to her. She moaned and begged him to stop.

"Fuck no, look at yo' nips!" Diane felt a flush of shame. He was right, her nipples were stiffening, the pain was turning her on. They were still long, but not as long as in the video. "Goddam!" he laughed. "Come over her and fuck me, bitch."

Diane waddled across the room and climbed onto his lap. He pushed his cock deep inside her in one quick motion. He put his mouth around her right nipple and started sucking. She felt the rush go through her and felt her pussy clench tight on his cock. They both came.

Diane stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself. She'd spent the last hour trying to figure out a way to make herself presentable for work. Her titties were huge, monstrous, and she had a customer presentation with Bailey today. A customer presentation, her first in weeks, her way to get back on Vader's good side. And her, a big titted freak show act. She had to do her best. Work was important, Monish kept all of the money she made on her 'engagements' and she had no real reserves. About two months salary in the bank and no investments. She couldn't afford not to impress Vader.

She'd had a good night's sleep. that helped. Monish had left at midnight. After they fucked, he'd had her go out for Chinese, then had her suck his cock for nearly two hours while he watched an action movie on cable. When the movie ended, he clicked off the television and had her sit on the couch beside him. He dug into his pocket and fished out a plastic bag filled with yellow pills. He told her that she was risking her health taking over the counter pills to keep herself awake and alert. These would be better. And she could have more anytime, she just needed to call him.

She unbuttoned her blouse, there was no point trying any longer, it was not going to button over her breasts. No matter how unprofessional it looked, she was going to have to wear a pullover top. She opened her closet and picked out two that might work, one tan and the other light grey. She tried them both on, but her huge breasts strained the material no matter how she adjusted them. She unwrapped the ACE bandages from around her chest and started again. This time, she started from the top, trying to push the huge monsters downward. It would be less offensive if she just looked like she was carrying extra weight - a fatty. That was no use either, the best she could manage was a huge bulge midway down her chest. It didn't look like a pot belly or like a huge chest, it was some kind of unexplainable bulge around her middle.

She went into the bedroom and took one of her biggest bras out of the dresser. She went to her desk and took a pair of scissors and cut out the cups, leaving the elastic and wire frame in place. She put on the bra, snapped it, and twisted it into place underneath her tits. She was too big for the straps to hold, the best she could do was bring them up between her tits. That was no good, it pushed them apart, making them look even bigger. She pulled the straps around, tried to lodge them around the outside. That was better. They were pressed together now, still huge and comical, but at least she felt a little support underneath. She wrapped the material around them again, but now she had one huge protrusion in the center of her chest.

Another failure. The bra was no use, the underwire did nothing to help. Diane unwrapped the material again and stood there starting at her huge balloon breasts, tears of defeat in her eyes. I might as well just go braless, with these funbags jiggling up and down, let them all see the freak...no, no, no... She took off the bra, then started wrapping the elastic around herself again. This was going to have to be it, this was as good as it would get. And it mattered. She had to do a good job today.

"What the hell, Bates?" Bailey just stared at her chest, mouth open. "Are you trying to get us thrown out of there?"

He was right and she knew it. But it was the best she could do. She'd settled on a conservative dark blue skirt and stocking, and a jacket over the tan top. She couldn't close or button the jacket, though. The problem was that the way it was forced open by her chest did more to draw attention than to divert it. The deep blue color made the jacket look more like a curtain parting to show off her chest than a jacket trying to cover it.

"I...I think I'm having a reaction to something, Bailey..." was the best she could come up with.

Bailey just shook his head. "Right. A reaction." He ran his fingers through his hair, walked back to his desk and sat down. Diane stood at the door to his office - a richly paneled office with windows, an office that should have been hers - and waited.

"You know they are a very conservative company, don't you?" "Yes, Bailey, I know that." "You read the report, right?" "Yes, Bailey, I read it." She watched him as he sat quietly in his chair, then leaned forward and took a sip of his coffee. He turned slightly, his back still to her, and keyed something into his computer. He pressed ENTER and waited for several seconds.

"Of course, it'll be fun for us later, won't it?" he said without turning around.

"Fuck you, Bailey," she growled. Now, he turned around in his chair and faced her. "Oh, you will, Bates. You will." He stood up and picked up his jacket, pulled it on. "Let's go."

Bailey pulled the Mercedes into the parking lot of a Motel Six and took Diane upstairs. He told her to get on the bed on her hands and knees while he undressed, hanging his suit up carefully in the closet. He slid her skirt up over her ass and pulled down her panties, fucking her quick and hard from behind. When he was done, he pulled her panties back up. She felt the cum oozing out of her and soaking her underwear.

The meeting was a complete disaster. For Diane. For Bailey, it was another major victory.

From the moment they arrived at Johnstown Services, it was clear that their management considered Diane a bimbo. Her clothes were wrinkled from the quick fuck and her hair still disheveled. She felt the cum damp between her legs and wondered if they smelled her. She saw everything from judgement and condemnation to revulsion to lust in the eyes of the eight men who were running the negotiations.

The only women they saw during their entire three hour visit were the ones who brought coffee into the room or were busy taking notes and running errands. All of the women at Johnstown wore prim and proper matching grey skirt suits, hair pulled back in buns, and conservative makeup. Diane also noticed that they were stunningly gorgeous. She wondered how many after-hours appointments were made among the men and women at Johnstown Services.

Bailey did the introductions, forgetting to mention that Diane had opened up their market three years ago and was a well-known analyst in their field. He pulled out a chair for her, but when she settled into it, he chose another seat closer to the negotiating team, leaving two empty chairs between them. When he opened his briefcase and handed out copies of the proposal, he found that he was one short. He joked that Diane didn't really need one, the men would be doing all of the work today. There was a hearty round of laughter as the men shuffled their papers back and forth.

Diane reached into her purse and took out the copy Vader had given her on Friday, put it on the table in front of her and glared at Bailey. He just smiled. "The little lady came prepared." The men snickered again.

They began their talks with a high level review of the proposal, then moved into specifics. One of the men asked about terms and Bailey turned to Diane, asked her to comment. She felt good now, this was one of the strongest parts of the proposal and she'd memorized it thoroughly. But when she explained the terms, everyone went silent. One of the senior members of their team flipped the pages of his proposal and corrected several of her numbers. She apologized and they moved on. But, it happened again shortly after that. Bailey asked her if she was all right and she snapped back a quick "yes, I'm fine."

Bailey leaned back slightly and said, "perhaps we should take a few minutes recess?" Everyone looked at Diane. She flushed but stammered, "well, we have a lot to go over. Why don't we push on." Everyone nodded.

After some talk on a few more points, Bailey asked the men to excuse him for a second. He picked up his coffee cup and drained the remaining few sips, then slid it down the table to Diane. "Would you mind getting me a fresh cup?"

She froze but knew better than to risk their negotiations with a petty squabble. She didn't say anything, just picked up the cup and walked to the far end of the room where there was a coffee pot.

"Women, eh?" he said quietly to the others. There was a quiet murmur. Diane turned and saw two of the men staring at her chest. She'd done her best but there was no way to hide that she was unnaturally huge. She blushed and the men smiled. An unspoken insult passed between them. She felt her cunt twitch.

As she sat down, one of the men asked, "so, how many regions are we talking about?" Bailey turned to her. "Bates? You have this one?"

Diane leaned forward slightly, thinking back to the report. "We are prepared to deal with all nine of Johnstown Service's primary regions." Again, the room was quiet. One of the men turned to her and said, "we have only four regions, Miss Bates." She froze.

"Did you even read the report, Miss Bates?" one of the others asked. She panicked now, realized what had happened. Bailey had set her up, had given her a fake report which she'd spent the weekend memorizing. She felt everything around her spin and nearly passed out. She remained quiet for most of the rest of the meeting.

When they wrapped up, everyone shook hands with Bailey. They walked out of the room, talking about next meetings and golf dates, leaving Diane behind to pack Bailey's briefcase and carry it to the car for him.

... to be continued ...

CHAPTER 11

The next morning, Diane got an email from Vader asking her to turn over her other files on Johnstown to Bailey. He was taking over the account. She was copied on another email, a glowing recap of a telephone call he'd received from management at Johnstown after their visit. Diane read the attachment. She wasn't mentioned, not even as Bailey's "assistant" or "gopher". She put her head down on her desk and collected herself. The slump was not over. She thought about Bailey, how he's given the wrong report to Vader so he could pass it to her. Or was Vader in on it too? She shook her head. Even with Monish not keeping her up all night and with the speed she was taking, her thoughts were still not very clear. She was having trouble thinking it through. Was Vader part of the scheme or not?

...

... from chapter 10 ...

When they wrapped up, everyone shook hands with Bailey. They walked out of the room, talking about next meetings and golf dates, leaving Diane behind to pack Bailey's briefcase and carry it to the car for him.

[BTW, comments are appreciated, either via email or posted to this website. I need the motivation to keep me going!!!-D]

CHAPTER 11 [Week 5 Tues]

The next morning, Diane got an email from Vader asking her to turn over her other files on Johnstown to Bailey. He would be taking over the account. She was copied on another email, a glowing recap of a telephone call he'd received from management at Johnstown after their visit. Diane read the attachment. She wasn't mentioned, not even as Bailey's "assistant" or "gopher". She put her head down on her desk and collected herself. The slump was not over. She thought about Bailey, how he's given the wrong report to Vader so he could pass it to her. Or was Vader in on it too? She shook her head. Even with Monish not keeping her up all night and with the speed she was taking, her thoughts were still not very clear. She was having trouble thinking it through. Was Vader part of the scheme or not?

Just after lunchtime, Diane's telephone rang. It was Bailey. He was drunk and slurring his words slightly.

"Johnstown deal closed," he said.

She shook her head in disbelief. In one day, he'd closed a deal that would have taken her weeks. Good Old Boys Club in action. "Congratulations," she choked.

"Yes. Time to celebrate." She heard him turn his head and whispering, "yes, yes, it's her...yes, the one with the big titties..."

Diane felt her stomach turn. "Where are you Bailey?"

"I'm taking the rest of the day off. I'm celebrating, I told you." There was more talking in the background. He was with a group. She heard the words "redheaded bimbo" and "titties" several times. Then, she heard him shushing the crowd. "Listen, all of you, quiet the fuck down. I'll be right back." She heard him close a door and he lowered his voice.

"We're in a private suite at the H-----. I want you here at four o'clock. Wear something slutty, you know, Spandex or something on those titties. And stop at that place on Seventh and get a nice fat rubber dildo. These guys want you to put on a show for them."

"Bailey, fuck you. No. No, that's not happening."

"Bates, did you hear me *ask* you? Don't fuck with me. I have Vader on speed dial. You are not going to cost me this account."

Diane collapsed in her chair. He was using her body to help him close a deal. Earning a big fat commission by pimping her to the Board of Directors. Another slide down the chute. Another rush to the bottom of the cesspool. Another crowd of men taking turns climbing on top of her and filling her pussy with their cum. She turned and looked down the hall. Vader's office door was open. She should just walk in and resign right now. Bailey wouldn't be a threat anymore. Neither would Monish.

"A big, fat one, you know? Like the ones those girls use in the porno videos. Bates, do you hear me? Bates?"

Diane looked at the clock. It was two o'clock. She could leave at three, go to the porno store for the dildo. She knew the place, Monish had brought her into it several times to show her off, have her glory hole the peep-show customers, pick up a little pocket money for himself. They would have plenty of slutty outfits there for her to choose from. She would change in the lobby of the H-----, try to run for the elevator before anyone noticed her.

She took another speed pill, expected they would keep her up all night. Plus, she was tired and depressed - the pills might cheer her up. She tried to focus on her email, but all she could think of was Bailey's face, his sick and evil grin as he pushed her the coffee cup yesterday. He knew they would all watch her ass wiggle as she walked to the coffee pot, knew they would all be staring at her monster boobs as she walked back to the table. Those pig eyes of his, those lips. Full lips. Hot lips. She thought of the way he kissed her as he fucked her in the elevator, he was a good kisser, he made her cunt swell when he...

The telephone rang. It was Monish. Saabira had called and wanted Diane overnight tonight. He would send the car at five. She interrupted him, told him about Bailey's plans. Monish swore and hung up.

Ten minutes later, he called her back. Bailey had agreed to pay Monish, so she was to go ahead with his party. Bailey had her scheduled from four till ten, then she would be driven to Saabira to spend the rest of the night with her. Diane reached for another pill.

The H----- had been reconditioned over the last few months and had become a very popular spot for business meeting and out-of-town executives. Diane felt horribly self-conscious as she walked through the lobby looking for the ladies' room. Many of the men turned and looked at her, her huge breasts drawing attention each step of the way.

The bathrooms were quite a walk from the elevator, there was no way she could get from one to the other inconspicuously. She was scared. The outfit she'd brought with her would make her look like a hooker and she could easily be arrested by hotel security. She looked for the stairs but they were no closer. Still, they were down a quieter hallway. Maybe she could walk up a flight or two, then take the elevator to the twentieth floor suite Bailey and his crowd were in.

Diane pushed open the door to the last stall and went inside. She took off the jacket and unzipped her skirt, slid it down and stepped out of it. She peeled off her dark blue pantyhose and took off her panties, folding everything neatly and setting it on the floor. Slowly, she pulled the top over her head and undid the elastic bandages that had caged her titties all day. If they had gone down - if the saline was being absorbed by her body the way Joe said it would - she couldn't tell. They were still firm and distended, sensitive to any touch. Even the draping of the elastic band over them turned her on. Her nipples were stiff and she wanted to touch them. She turned and leaned against the wall, feeling the cool tile against her nipples, her breasts. She slid her fingers between her legs and closed her eyes. She saw herself as she was, standing completely naked in the woman's bathroom of the H----- hotel, rubbing against the tile wall and masturbating. The depravity of the picture in her head turned her on immensely and she came fast and hard, trembling and shaking, knees weak and watery.

She opened her shoulder bag and took out the outfit she'd bought from the Pleasure Shop. It was so tiny it fit in her hand. She found the top and pulled the sheer fabric apart, stepping first one leg then the other through the opening. She pulled it up until it was like a belt around her waist. From there, she had to negotiate with the material. There was barely enough to pull down to cover her ass and pull up past her nipples. It was completely sheer, her bush, her navel, and her nipples showed clearly through it. She reached into the bag again and found the cheap vinyl vest, pulled it on. There was a fake plastic chain that held the sides in place. They barely covered her nipples but would probably keep her from being arrested.

Diane reached into the bag again and took out a pair of black, thigh high vinyl boots. She pulled them on, tugging at the top, but no matter how she tried, at least four inches of thigh was left exposed between the top of the boot and the bottom of the skirt. She looked into the bag. All that was left was the huge, jet black rubber dildo. She shook her head, defeated. She'd brought a pair of black panties to the counter, but now they were gone. She realized that the clerk - the one who Monish had introduced her to weeks ago as "one of mine" - had charged her for them but had not packed them with the rest of the outfit. Monish had fucked her again. She took her jacket out of the bag and pulled it on. It didn't cover much but at least the sheer dress wasn't so obvious.

She put her clothes into the shoulder bag and leaned her forehead against the cool tile wall. In just a few minutes, she was going to walk into the lobby of an expensive business hotel dressed like a cheap hooker, press the elevator button, and stand there while everyone stared at her. Their eyes would drink her in. They might wonder if they should get up, get into the elevator, touch her, fondle her. Diane felt her cunt getting wet again as she thought of the men wanting to touch her, push her against the wall of the elevator, unzip their pants and shove their rigid cocks deep up inside her, pumping her hard against the wall, shooting their hot cum up inside of her while she screamed and moaned and twitched, crazy in orgasm, wanting more, more, more...she felt her hand between her legs again, touching her pussy, rubbing her clit. She started grunting, fingering herself faster and faster, moaning as she came. She was ready for Bailey now. For whatever kind of shit he had in mind. It didn't matter anymore. She needed it.

She picked up the shoulder bag and opened the door of the stall. There were two woman standing at the sinks, one touching up her lipstick, the other leaning there, looking at Diane. "We heard that," she said, giving Diane a disdainful look. "What you were doing with him in there." Diane kept walking as the woman watched the door, waiting for a man to come out.

Diane looked down the hallway toward the stairs. There was a security guard standing there, looking the other way. The stairs were off limits, she would have to take the elevator. Quickly, she walked toward the other end of the hallway. It took her past the lounge and several men turned their heads, blowing "phew" and muttering "wow, look at that". She kept moving, surprised at how easily she navigated in the spiked heel boots, until she got to the lobby elevator. She pressed the UP button and waited. The closest elevator was on 8. She was nervous but didn't look around, just stared at the lights on the panel.

Two men walked into the lobby, stopped cold and stared at her. The elevator was at 6 now. A couple came and stood at the other end, the woman giggling into her husband's shoulder. "Maybe the circus is in town," she snickered. Diane heard a voice from the registration desk. "Miss!" She ignored it, focused on the button. 4. "Miss!" She heard footsteps then, walking across the lobby toward them. "Miss!" a woman's insistent voice barked. 3. 2. 1. DING! The elevator door opened and three people stepped out, each staring at Diane's tits, then her face, then her tits again. She felt a hand on her shoulder and went white, feeling sick.

"Miss? I was told to give you this," the woman said. The others stepped around her, watching the two of them as they got into the elevator. The manager handed Diane a half-empty bottle of K-Y lubricant. "I was told you were going to need it." She gave Diane a condescending, superior look then turned and walked back to the desk. The elevator door slid closed before Diane could step in. She saw the smug, disgusted faces inside - nobody reached to hold the door open for her. Diane sobbed, tears of humiliation running down her face. She reached out a trembling hand and pressed the UP button again.

By the time Diane got to the suite, she was already exhausted and depressed. The manager downstairs had an effect on her that she hadn't expected. After everything she'd been through with Lars and Monish, Curtis and Masozi, how could simply being handed a bottle of lubricant so thoroughly annihilate her? She felt like a piece of meat, a lower life form than the cheapest street whore or cum slut.

The orgy was a blur to her. From the moment she knocked on the door, everything was vague and nearly forgotten. There were twenty of them, already drunk and horny from watching videotapes of her that Bailey had provided. Some were naked, a few wore masks to protect their identities, one was dressed in full leather with studs and a hood. They had moved the furniture around and pulled a table into the middle of the room. They made Diane stand on it and play with herself for them, pulling her stiff nipples up and down, shaking her monster titties and panting at the pain. They had her lay on her back and raise her legs high, opening her cunt while she finger fucked herself to orgasm. Two of the snapped pictures and another took movies with his videocamera.

Bailey asked about the dildo and she produced it. Thirty inches long and three inches around, it was a two headed monster that had scared her when she saw it. She'd picked up a smaller one but the clerk had held it up and laughed. "Monish would not approve," and handed her the huge black one again. She didn't bother telling him that this was not for Monish. "It's the biggest one we sell. The only thing bigger are the butt busters for the gay boys."

"She'll never get that thing inside her," one of the men complained. "You're fucking crazy, look at the slut. She'll take it no problem." "Yeah, she can probably take it up the ass." "Hey, look, two heads." "Yeah, pussy and ass." "Pussy and ass. Pussy and ass." The men in the room began chanting, holding the dildo above their heads, passing it around the room like a trophy.

"Pussy and ass. Pussy and ass."

She saw Bailey standing at the edge of the table, leering at her. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "This is so fucking sick! Oh yeah! I told them I wanted to celebrate and one of them mentioned you. It was all easy from there." He licked her cheek, did it again. "Who knew? I guess this isn't unusual for them." He stood up and walked back to the end of the table, reached for her and slid her hips to the edge, shoved his cock inside her soaking wet cunt.

"Bailey! Bailey!" the men started chanting. Diane closed her eyes. Sick, sick, sick, she thought. Bailey pounded his cock into her hard, he'd always been fierce and now he had an audience. She heard them chanting, heard others talking. They were taking bets on her. Money was exchanging hands, how many inches could she take up her cunt, how many up her ass? Would she do them at the same time? Would she suck them both clean after? Bailey kept pounding at her, her body rocking on the table, huge titties shaking, nipples chafing against the cheap material. She closed her eyes, felt the humiliation and shame doing their job, making her hot, felt her cunt gushing and her orgasm getting closer, closer, closer..."AHHHH!!!! HARDER BAILEY!" she screamed, wrapping her legs around him and pounding him just as hard as he was pounding her. Her orgasm came, the whiteness exploding behind her eyes, then she dropped her legs open and Bailey pulled out. "Goddam, bitch, I thought your snatch was gonna eat me alive!"

The men lined up between her legs now, the dildo was forgotten as they fucked her, cum dripping down onto the carpet, her body writhing with orgasm after orgasm. None of them fucked her mouth or ass, just cock after cock working away at her hot pussy.

By the time the fourth man was inside her, she needed more to cum. She started working her nipples, twisting and pinching them hard, pulling them as her body squirmed, cunt twitching around yet another anonymous cock. The fourth, fifth, sixth man unloaded into her pussy and she still hadn't cum. She started begging someone to beat her. To beat her titties. Nobody was interested. "Fucking sick bitch," a few of them said. "Twisted deviate slut," another grunted.

Bailey came to the rescue. He found his pants and pulled the belt out of the loops. It was a rich black leather, about an inch and a half wide. He brought it down squarely across her chest, hitting both titties just below the nipple. Diane moaned "yes, yes, yes..." and fucked harder against number seven. He moaned, "oh fuck, you gotta feel her pussy twitch. Bailey, do it again...ah yeah! Fucking ay, yeah!"

The men got into it now, each of them telling Bailey to speed up or slow down so they could feel her cunt twitch. She was delirious now, awash in pain and orgasm, completely reduced to animal sexuality. They kept pounding at her non-stop. As soon as one of them pulled his cock out, still twitching and shooting cum onto her thighs and the table, another would take his place, reaming her harder than the last. Diane dug her nails into her titties, scratching them between Bailey's strokes. They got into a rhythm, stroke, scratch, stroke, pinch, stroke, twist. She came and came, everything a single blur now.

When number twenty finished, pulling his still spurting cock out of Diane's stretched and soaking cunt, Bailey stopped the flogging. She dropped her arms to her sides and lay still, moaning, rocking her hips side to side slowly.

"Bates?" It was Bailey.

"Nnnnhhh..." she managed to moan.

"It's only six o'clock. We have you until ten. Don't go to sleep on us."

She tried to open her eyes but was exhausted from the cumming. She felt Bailey's hands tugging the top of the dress back up over her titties, letting the elastic snap into place. "Time for another show."

She felt hands on her body, they lifted her and turned her over on her hands and knees. Someone pushed her knees apart and she felt the head of the dildo at her cunt.

"Come on. Come and get it," one of the men said.

Diane pushed her hips backward and felt the head slide easily inside her. A gush of semen ran down the insides of her thighs. She felt wonderfully degraded, felt her clit swelling. "Oh, fuck yeah!" she moaned, sliding forward until it plopped out. She pushed back and felt it open her again. Back and forth over and over, pushing just the head between her lips and into her hole. The men began chanting "more, more, more" and she took a deep breath. She gritted her teeth and slid backward further this time. Now, most of the head was inside her but the rim was still too big. She jerked forward, heard the plop of cum on the table top.

"More, more, more," the chanting went on.

She pushed backward harder this time, stopped at the widest part, held herself there a long time, then pushed back hard and screamed as the thickest part of the head slid inside her. Now, she went wild. She slid down the shaft easily, four inches, five, six, seven, feeling it pushing against her cervix, her diaphragm, her lungs. She was completely out of control, pulling it nearly all the way out, pushing hard, eight inches inside her now, then back to just the head, now eight inches again and gasping hard for air, feeling her insides stretched and decimated, pulling out now, pulling the thick rim through the muscle at the mouth of her cunt, ramming it back in again. She was flailing side to side, throwing her hair, shaking the massive titties that hung like udders underneath her. Diane came again and again. By the time someone asked Bailey "what's next", she was taking a full twelve inches with each stroke and still begging for more.

The men lifted Diane and carried her to the bed. They'd stripped the sheets and blankets and threw her on the bare mattress. For a H----- Hotel, it was surprisingly nasty. Someone said the hotel had been bought from another chain, one with a less-than-four-star rating. Someone commented that this was exactly the right mattress for Diane and they all laughed.

One of the men wanted to take the outfit off of her. It was soaked with cum and sweat by now and he thought it was gross. One of the others laughed. "I can take a shower when I'm done. This down and dirty stuff is kind of fun." "Yeah, let the pig enjoy her slop, you know?" Laughter all around. Diane hadn't noticed how disgusting she was but felt it now. Her hair was sweaty, her thighs and belly soaked with cum and her clothes stuck to her everywhere. She needed something inside her, either pain or pleasure to take her mind off of what she was, degraded another step from slut to whore to pig.

Someone climbed onto her and she swung her legs up, wrapped them around him and started fucking him. He pushed into her a few times but stopped and pushed her legs off of him. "Bailey! Bailey! Get over here." He climbed off of her and knelt on the bed between her legs.

Bailey made his way through the group of men around the bed. He looked half asleep, had a glass of champagne in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. "Whassup?"

"Your whore here. Look at this." He pushed three fingers into Diane's pussy, then another, then his thumb. Without much effort, he was able to push his entire hand up into her cunt. "Look how loose this is. I can't fuck this." Diane ground her hips moved up and down, moaning hard, trying to fuck his hand. "Fucking sick bitch," he growled and yanked his hand out of her cunt.

"Well, fuck her ass then," Bailey said and turned around.

"Fuck no, I'm not gonna fuck her ass. What kind of sicko do you think I am?" the man complained. Bailey turned around and looked at Diane. "Can you tighten that thing up?" She looked at him, trying to focus. She was exhausted, didn't know if she could keep fucking, let along try to keep herself tight. She shook her head.

One of the younger men pushed Bailey aside and got on the bed. "Hey, bitch, roll over there," he commanded. Diane rolled on her side. "Here papa, lay down." The man who had been complaining lay in the center of the bed. "Get on." Diane climbed onto the man, slid his cock into her gushing cunt. "All right now, here's what you do," the younger man announced. He stood up behind them, knelt between Diane's legs. He pushed her flat down against the older man, then started to slide his cock up into her cunt pressing against the other man. Diane moaned but loved it, the two of them both deep in her pussy split her in half and she loved the feeling. The man underneath started to complain but when Diane clenched down on both of them, he moaned and started jerking, cumming inside her. "Oh, fuck, yeah. This whore's got a snatch made of gold!"

The men started fucking her in pairs then, the bottom man crushed underneath her massive titties but not complaining. Diane's pussy relaxed and

by the end of the fucking, even the twosomes were complaining she was too loose. She knew what to do, what she needed to show them. She rolled over on the bed and spread her legs wide, yelled at two of them to take her ankles and open her up. They pulled her feet upward and out, splitting her like a wishbone. She took the double headed dildo and pushed one end deep into her cunt. Then, she folded over the other end and started rubbing it against her pussy. The room got quiet, the men fascinated, Bailey afraid. There was no way she could take that much into her cunt without hurting herself. She moaned and squirmed, rammed the second cock against the first but she couldn't get it to slide inside her. She pulled the first one halfway out, tried to slide them in side by side but it was no use. Even Diane's stretched and ruined pussy couldn't take the six inches circumference. She cried in front of them, apologizing that she couldn't take it, begging them to fuck her again and stretch her out more. Several of the men picked up their clothes and left in disgust, twelve in all stayed and fucked her the third time around, letting her lick their cocks and balls clean before and after each fuck. Diane was frustrated that so few of them wanted to do anything to her titties after they'd stared at them all afternoon. She didn't know that Bailey had told them not to. He had made an agreement with Monish and Saabira. Diane's titties belonged to Saabira tonight.

... to be continued if you like it ...

CHAPTER 12

Monish's driver came at nine o'clock, nearly an hour before Bailey had expected them. He argued with Marty, the man who came into the suite when someone opened the door.

... from chapter 11 ...

The men started fucking her in pairs then, the bottom man crushed underneath her massive titties but not complaining. Diane's pussy relaxed and by the end of the fucking, even the twosomes were complaining she was too loose. She knew what to do, what she needed to show them. She rolled over on the bed and spread her legs wide, yelled at two of them to take her ankles and open her up. They pulled her feet upward and out, splitting her like a wishbone. She took the double headed dildo and pushed one end deep into her cunt. Then, she folded over the other end and started rubbing it against her pussy. The room got quiet, the men fascinated, Bailey afraid. There was no way she could take that much into her cunt without hurting herself. She moaned and squirmed, rammed the second cock against the first but she couldn't get it to slide inside her. She pulled the first one halfway out, tried to slide them in side by side but it was no use. Even Diane's stretched and ruined pussy couldn't take the six inches circumference. She cried in front of them, apologizing that she couldn't take it, begging them to fuck her again and stretch her out more. Several of the men picked up their clothes and left in disgust, twelve in all stayed and fucked her the third time around, letting her lick their cocks and balls clean before and after each fuck. Diane was frustrated that so few of them wanted to do anything to her titties after they'd stared at them all afternoon. She didn't know that Bailey had told them not to. He had made an agreement with Monish and Saabira. Diane's titties belonged to Saabira tonight.

CHAPTER 12 [Week 5 Tues - Wed a.m.]

Monish's driver came at nine o'clock, nearly an hour before Bailey had expected them. He argued with Marty, the man who came into the suite when someone opened the door.

Bailey protested. "Monish said we had her until ten o'clock." "No, Monish said she had another appointment at ten o'clock. Go get her."

Bailey told him to fuck off. He was drunk and Marty was a pipsqueak of a man in a tailored suit with a small, stupid looking mustache. Marty grinned and snapped his fingers. His partner - Matt - stepped in from the other room. Matt was a six foot three slab of meat who must have spent two-thirds of his life in a gym. He filled the doorway, had to turn sideways to walk through. He glowered at Bailey. Matt had a scar across his cheek that started at the outside of his left eye, cut across his lip, and finished in a bright red stripe on his chin. When he sneered at Bailey, Bailey's blood ran cold. The man had obvious been through some fierce battles and Bailey wasn't about to push him.

"Go get her," Marty repeated. Bailey gulped and nodded. Diane was passed out on the bed, cum oozing around the sides of the thick dildo sticking out of her worn out pussy. Bailey griped the dildo and pulled it out of her. Diane jerked awake, moaned.

"Time to go, honey," Bailey told her.

She stood up, adjusted the tiny outfit she was wearing to cover at much of her as she could, looked around for her shoulder bag. It was gone. Bailey told her that one of the men had liked it and thought that the outfit inside would fit his girlfriend, so he took it. Diane shook with anger. She had no money now, no wallet, no identification, everything had been in that bag. She was a helpless, abandoned big-tit whore, in a flimsy cum soaked outfit and latex boots. She felt herself collapse further into the filth her life had become.

Matt fucked her in the freight elevator on the way down, she didn't even care. When he handed her off to the two moving men in the basement, she went through the motions, swallowed as much of their jis as she could, tried to get into it, but she was depressed. First, the K-Y incident with the manager, then her shoulder bag. Fucking her, hitting her, hurting her was one thing but this was different. Monish had treated her like one of his whores, pimping her out day and night, but she was still more or less human. These incidents were beyond that. She was something else now. Just a function, just a hole.

She knelt in the back of the car, face between Matt's leg licking his balls and cock, the entire drive to Saabira place. Matt didn't get get hard, just enjoyed putting her through the shame of licking his sack for the whole twenty minute drive.

Saabira was alone when Marty handed her off at the door. Diane waited anxiously for Katie and Masozi to arrive but they didn't. Saabira told Diane to take off her ridiculous outfit and clean herself up. Diane noticed that Saabira was staring at her massive titties but neither of them said anything.

Diane spent fifteen minutes in the hot shower, scrubbing herself carefully, her breasts, enjoying the feeling of the brush on her arms and legs, belly and back. When she was finished, she dried of and walked through the house, calling Saabira's name quietly.

Saabira was in the kitchen, chopping celery. Diane giggled. It was such a mundane sight, a woman standing at the counter making a meal. Saabira was dressed in dark blue jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot, with thick gold bracelets on both wrists.

Diane stood naked in the doorway, watching her. Without looking up, Saabira said, "tell me about your breasts." She chopped a few more times, then spoke again, eyes still fixed on the chopping board. "No, let me guess. Saline injections. Over several hours, that way they stay firm. A single, long steel needle. Through the nipple, no...through the base of the nipple." Diane stared at her. Did she know? Was there a connection between Joe, Curtis, Saabira? "Do they still hurt when you walk?"

"Y...yes," she stammered. How could she know so much?

"Show me." Saabira set the knife on the wooden block and looked up.

Diane walked across the room and stood in front of her.

"Jump. Jump up and down for me."

Diane rose on her toes, lifting her heels off the ground. Her titties shook and she felt the weight at the base. Her nipples responded to the mild pain, stiffening a bit.

"I said jump," Saabira said. The calmness of her voice took Diane back to that first night. She was rightly named "patience". She didn't care how long it took, she was going to get the reaction she wanted. Diane jumped a few inches off the ground, felt the pain whe her feet hit the ground. "Aaaarrrrhhhhh...."

"Higher, jump higher. Arms up, reach for the ceiling."

Diane jumped again, bit her lips, sucking air hard to keep from screaming.

"Jumping jacks. Ten of them. Fast!"

Diane lost control now, the pain shooting through her upper body, moaning and crying. This wasn't arousing at all, this was just painful. She wanted Katie's tongue between her legs. When would the other two show up?

Saabira walked from the counter to the table, sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. She unzipped her pants and slid her hand down the front, underneath the panties. Diane counted ten jumping jacks and stopped. Saabira looked at her and smiled. Diane was already soaked with sweat, panting hard. The marathon gangbang had exhausted her and she hurt from jumping up and down.

"Again. Keep going until I cum," Saabira said calmly. She moved her hand slightly underneath her jeans and stared at Diane. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Diane started jumping again, tentatively at first. "Faster! Don't fuck with me, I want to see those melons shake!" Diane jumped higher, opened her legs wider. Her huge titties were shrieking in pain now, Diane was sobbing out loud, barely able to raise her arms higher than shoulder level as she jumped. "Hands above your head, let's go. Let's see some effort!" She tried, but now lost focus on her legs. Her feet barely spread apart as she tried to raise her arms higher. Saabira massaged her clit slowly, enjoying Diane's performance. Diane was begging now, pleading for Saabira to stop. That was what she needed, that was the point she needed Diane at. She sped up the circles her fingers were making, barked at Diane "Higher, faster, wider, clap those hands above your head," enjoying watching Diane lost track of where she was or what part of her body she was focusing on. When she came, she didn't let on, just kept rubbing herself and yelling commands at Diane for several more minutes. She drank in Diane's pain the way a vampire might suck the blood out of a victim.

"All right, that's enough," she said finally. Diane collapsed to the floor and lay whimpering, arms holding her titties against her hard. Saabira remained silent, her fingers gently stroking her own cunt lips, watching Diane's body shake at her feet.

After a long, silent pause, Saabira stood up and zipped and buttoned her pants.

"Diane?" Diane lifted her head, raised her eyes to look at Saabira. "Finish chopping the celery." She threw and apron across Diane's hips and left the room.

Diane got up and tied on the apron. Just as she was turning to pick up the knife, Saabira appeared came back into the kitchen. She was carrying a huge cotton bra. She gently helped Diane into it. It was snug but still, it fit. Diane's body felt a relief she hadn't felt since coming back from the sessions with Curtis and Joe. Saabira didn't say a word, just hooked the bra into place and left the room.

Saabira and Diane ate dinner in silence. The celery was part of a simple salad, the main course was plain, broiled chicken breast. They both had a glass of wine. Diane looked at Saabira from time to time. The woman was completely self-absorbed, she showed no sign that there was anyone else in the room.

Diane did the dishes after dinner and Saabira settled into a sofa and clicked her remote control, bringing up a recent foreign film and dimming the room lights.

"Come here," she motioned to Diane. Diane knelt on the floor in front of her. Saabira lifted her left leg, bent it and offered her foot to Diane. Diane put her tongue out tentatively and Saabira guided her. She licked the sole of her foot, then sucked on each of her toes. Saabira instructed her wordlessly, guided her into a soft and gentle pace. She sucked each toe individually, licked the crevice between them, cleaned her foot all the way to her ankle. Diane was shocked and ashamed at how much it turned her on. She felt her own cunt swelling, her clit stiff and aroused. She'd never understood this when she saw it in a movie or read about it in a porn story, but the reality was exquisite. Was it the sucking? Or being reduced to such a thing? She didn't know but she had to work hard to keep from touching herself while she was doing it.

After a while, Saabira shifted and Diane began on the other foot. She pressed her nipples against the sofa, rubbing gently against the material, feeling it scratch and chafe her tender skin. She was dizzy with arousal, cunt soaking wet and oozing. Saabira showed no signs of being aroused, she was absorbed in the movie. They were in completely different worlds. Diane was having an all-consuming sexual encounter and Saabira was watching television. Diane finished Saabira's right foot, but couldn't stop. She took Saabira's heel in her hand and raised her head slightly, pushing Saabira's big toe between her lips. Then, she opened her mouth wide and took all five toes between her lips, feeling her mouth stretch, trying to force her head forward. She was caught up in something now that she didn't understand. She heard slurping noises and realized that saliva was dripping down her chin and onto her lap. Her tongue pushed hard against the ball of Saabira's foot and Diane heard a giggle. Was she ticklish? Or was she laughing at her? She felt herself red with embarrassment but couldn't stop. She gripped Saabira's ankle and started fucking her face with the foot. Suddenly, she felt a hand in her hair. Saabira pulled her head back hard and looked at her.

"Movie's over. You can stop now."

Diane was completely humiliated. Saabira had had to stop her from face fucking herself with her foot. What was she turning into? How depraved could a human possibly get? As soon as she asked herself the question, she realized she didn't care. She would sink however low Saabira wanted to take her. And then beg her to take her further.

Saabira wiped her foot against Diane's face and chucked, a girlish laugh. As though they were adolescents playing in a closet, touching each other for the first time. She got up.

"Let's go, time for bed."

She led Diane upstairs into her master bedroom. Diane looked at the clock. It was only eleven. She looked around. There were photographs of Katie, Masozi and Saabira alone, in pairs, and as a group, visiting different cities, mugging in front of monuments, standing in a canoe.

"Will Masozi come tonight?" Diane asked without thinking. She immediately knew it was a mistake, she couldn't reveal how much the woman had turned her on. They would find some way to use it against her, she knew that instinctively.

"Ah, Masozi. Our Amazon warrior princess," Saabira taunted. She walked round behind Diane, running her fingernail across her right boob, then down her side and across her ass. She walked around, still trailing her nail, until she stood directly in front of her, looking deep into her eyes. "No." She pushed her finger against Diane's forehead. "But, I'll be sure to tell her you asked about her." Diane shuddered. Fear or excitement? She didn't care.

Saabira turned and walked to one of the three other doors in the bedroom. "You'll be here." She opened the door and Diane looked inside. The space was the size of a small close, just enough to stand in without touching the sides. The walls were metallic with discs recessed into them. There was a grid in the ceiling and a solid metal floor.

Saabira motioned for Diane to step in and she did. Saabira gave her a kiss on the mouth, then pushed the door closed. The room was completely black, no light leaked in around the sides or bottom of the door. Diane sensed that it was sound proof. Once the door had clicked shut, there was a roaring silence, maybe a white noise generator? A sensory deprivation room?

Diane stood there for several minutes, then reached out and touched the side wall. Cool metal. The back and the door were all the same. She sniffed. Nothing unusual. After a while, boredom set in and she wondered what the point of the exercise was. She opened and closed her eyes, fascinated by the complete blackness. She closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. She didn't know if she could sleep standing but thought she would try. There was no way to crouch low enough to sleep on the floor, even curled up, and she knew it. She leaned against the wide wall, adjusted herself until she was resting more or less comfortably wedged into the corner.

Diane's eyes jerked open as a loud "Clang! Clang!" shattered the silence. It rang down through the grid in the ceiling, ringing over and over for a full minute, the volume almost a physical thing against her body. She closed her eyes and tried to doze off again.

She jerked awake a second time. The room was flooded with bright light from the floods running the length of the walls and back of the room. That was what the small circles were. She felt the wall getting warm, the heat from the lights being conducted through the metal. She straightened her body, had to stand erect in the middle of the room, not touching any of the walls. Even the door was getting hot. The lights died out but the walls remained warm to the touch. The heat was evidently not connected to the lights after all, the walls themselves were heating up.

After several minutes, Diane was sweating. The room was getting hotter and hotter. The sweat trickled down her face and into her eyes. She tried to blink it out but it was no use. She couldn't raise her arms to wipe them so she kept them shut. Then, the bells came on again, clanging loudly for a full minute. When the lights came on, the bells continued. Diane was disoriented now, moved sideways but felt the heat of the wall against her elbow and snapped back to fully erect.

The noise stopped but the lights stayed on, blinking now, flashing on and off. The temperature in the room dropped from hot to comfortable. But it kept dropping. Diane felt her skin start to rise as the room chilled. She started to tremble, saw her breath now in the bright light. She rubbed herself with her arms as best she could in the small space, but the temperature kept dropping.

The lights went out then and she was shivering in complete blackness. She heard voices. It was a recording of her first visit with the three women. She hard Saabira's voice, the cracks of the paddle on her skin, her screams. Another sound track started, this time it was the slurping sound of Katie's mouth on her body. The sounds rose and fell, interacting, now louder, now softer, while she shivered from the cold.

Suddenly, everything stopped. The room was dark again and quiet. A warm breeze blew down from the overhead vent and Diane thawed. The warmth made her drowsy and she fell asleep, falling backward against the now-cool wall, knees bending slightly.

It didn't last long. The lights, sounds and temperature changes went on all night. The sequence and length of time changed, Diane wasn't sure how long she fell asleep between each round or if she actually did. When Saabira opened the door the next morning, Diane collapsed forward into her arms. Saabira guided her to the bed and let her lay down, pulled the comforter up around her. Diane's eyes made out hazy outlines in the room, which she recognized with an effort as Katie and Masozi. She desperately wanted to get up and offer herself to them but she couldn't muster the strength.

"You have an hour to sleep, then we have to get you dressed and off to work," Saabira said as Diane sank into the black of complete exhaustion.

When Saabira tried to shake her awake one hour later, she resisted. Saabira told her that she would be late to work if she didn't get up now. Diane muttered "fuck the job. Fuck it all. My life is over. Fuck the job..." Saabira was surprised, this was a new turn.

She shook her awake again five minutes later, this time with a coffee cup and a piece of toast. Diane forced herself to wake up, ate some of the toast and sipped the coffee. She was completely fatigued, asked Saabira if she had anything that could perk her up. Saabira asked "drugs? Do you mean drugs?" Diane nodded her head weakly. "Something. Anything." Saabira said no, told her to finish the coffee and come into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Diane stumbled down the hallway and stopped near the refrigerator. Katie and Masozi were sitting at a table with coffee and bacon and eggs in front of them. Saabira was cooking. The smell made Diane hungry and she staggered to the table.

"You've lost weight," Katie commented.

Diane just nodded.

"Maybe a little too much?" Katie continued.

Diane turned and looked at Masozi. She was calmly chewing on a piece of toast, watching Diane like a predator eyeing prey. It turned Diane on. "I was about twenty pounds over a few weeks ago. I like it," she replied, weakly.

"Are you eating?" Katie asked.

"Maybe not like I should." Diane looked back at Katie and replied. That was true. The speed was having an effect, but she was not eating either. She didn't have time. She sat down, looked at Saabira. Saabira was sliding two eggs on to a plate for her.

"You taking speed?" Diane shot a glance at Masozi again. She didn't want her to know she was doing speed, didn't want her to have any reason not to approve of her.

"Um...once or twice. You know, you have a long night and you have to do something the next day..."

Saabira put two pieces of back on the plate then set it in front of Diane.

"Eat." Masozi said. Diane picked up her fork.

"Did you bring clothes for work?" Katie asked. Diane shook her head. She had, but they'd been taken when the man took her shoulder bag last night. "I'll find you something. You eat." Katie got up and left the room.

Diane ate in silence, the other two ignoring her while they sipped coffee and talked back and forth. Katie came back shortly with a conservative looking dress that she thought might fit. "Other than your breasts."

Masozi turned and looked at Diane's chest. She flushed, hoping Masozi might be turned on. Masozi calmly turned away, back to her conversation with Saabira.

Diane got up and followed Katie into the bedroom. She changed to a slightly smaller bra, her breasts were beginning to shrink, the saline being absorbed into her body slowly. The looked to have shrunk at least a quarter size smaller than they were two days ago. Katie helped her dress, then walked her to the garage and drove her to work.

... to be continued if there is interest ...

CHAPTER 13

Diane poured herself another cup of coffee. It was eleven thirty. She had fallen asleep at her desk twice already. With almost no sleep last night and none of Monish's speed to keep her going, her body felt heavy, like lead, and sleep was always just a moment away.

...continued from chapter 12 ...

Diane got up and followed Katie into the bedroom. She changed to a slightly smaller bra, her breasts were beginning to shrink, the saline being absorbed into her body slowly. They were at least a quarter size smaller than two days ago. Katie helped her dress, then walked her to the garage and drove her to work.

CHAPTER 13 [Week 5 Thurs - Fri]

Diane poured herself another cup of coffee. It was eleven thirty. She had fallen asleep at her desk twice already. Her body felt heavy and slow, and sleep was always just a moment away.

Bailey came by at lunch time and handed her her wallet. She opened it. Her identification and money were still there, nothing missing. He opened his hand and showed her two of the little yellow pills she'd been needing all morning. She looked up at him, grateful and eager. He smiled. He sucked in his belly, then pulled out the front of his pants and dropped the pills down into his underwear.

"I'll be down in loading docks at noon. You can come and get them then," he said, then walked back to his office.

Diane got up and wandered around the floor, trying to focus on something. There were reports and emails stacking up in her IN box and her telephone message light was flashing. She knew she wasn't ready for any real work, her brain was too fuzzy. She needed the speed first.

Diane walked out of their office and down the main hall. She turned as a woman walked by. A tall, brown skinned woman with kinky black hair and a short skirt. Diane superimposed Masozi's face on her, felt her cunt twitch. She shook her head. Focus. Focus. She pressed the button for the elevator and waited. Two men and another woman gathered to wait for the elevator. Diane smiled at them, trying to calm down and appear nonchalant. The men couldn't take their eyes off her huge tits. The woman just stared straight ahead. Diane slumped her shoulders. I'm just a piece of meat again, she thought. She saw the woman coming back down the hall and stared at her. The woman caught her eye and smiled. Diane felt a rush of heat between her legs and her nipples stiffen. The woman saw her chest and made an "ugh" face, turning her head away as she walked by.

Diane went to the back of the elevator and rode down in silence. Once she got to the basement, she headed straight to the loading dock. No point being anywhere else, she was just a walking freak show now and wanted to hide.

Bailey arrived at twelve-thirty. Diane was asleep on top of a stack of boxes. He woke her with a slap across the chest. She rolled forward, fell on the floor at his feet. She looked up at him and he smiled. "Right where you belong." He undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Diane reached for his shorts and pulled them down. She saw his half-stiff cock and hairy sack. There in the skid marks of his white underpants were the two yellow pills.

"Go ahead. I know you need them," he teased. Diane slid his pants down further, raised her hand. He grabbed her wrist. "No, no. With your mouth." Diane pushed her face forward, pushed her mouth into the crotch of his underwear, tongue searching for the pills. She tasted his sweat and odor, gagged slightly, but found the pills. They stuck to her tongue and she swallowed them.

"Good. That's all. I'll fuck you later," he said, then pulled his pants up and walked back toward the elevator.

Diane was nearly caught up on her email by the end of the day but hadn't read any of the reports she needed for tomorrow morning's meeting. Her mind kept going back to that closet at Saabira's. How long had it been there? How many other women had spent the night in it? Did Saabira play games like that with Katie and Masozi? Now that she was out of it, she wanted to be back in. She found that she was craving the sweet feeling of those few minutes of sleep between sessions. And that one hour in Saabira's bed. She'd smelled Saabira's body on the pillow and dreamed of touching her, kissing her, pleasing her. And Masozi was always there, standing calmly to one side and watching.

Monish called at ten minutes till five and told her there was an engagement. She told him that her bag had been stolen and all of the pills he'd given her were gone. Could be bring more? He told her yes but they wouldn't be free. One hundred dollars for a bag of twenty. Diane agreed. He said he would pick her up at two a.m. and would bring them with him.

She spent nine o'clock until two in the morning in an old-fashioned suck and fuck session with thre out of towners on a business trip. They were fascinated by her huge boobs and played with them a lot. They were done with her at midnight, but she enticed them to keep going until two by teaching them different ways to hurt her breasts. The most popular was the very low-tech approach of holding rubber bands between their fingers and snapping them against her huge globes. It was terribly painful, but it was what she needed. By the time she left, every inch of her tit flesh was glowing bright red and aching. But she had got off and that was what mattered.

Monish was downstairs outside the front door of the hotel. She handed him the money and he handed her the bag. There were only ten pills in it.

"Last minute price change. Do you want more?" he asked. Diane growled to herself and smiled at him. She peeled two more fifty dollar bills out of her wallet and handed them to him. He counted out ten more pills. Diane knew she was being ripped off horribly, but she wasn't the kind of woman who knew drug dealers so she had little choice but to pay. She popped two of the pills and took a taxi home.

Bailey walked past her cubicle and glared at her. He didn't say anything, didn't even slow down, but Diane knew something was wrong. She turned back to the reports on her desk. Their staff meeting was at eleven, she had an hour and a half to catch up on what she'd missed.

She rubbed her eyes, bleary from lack of sleep over the last two nights. She took another pill, washed it down with coffee and opened the first report. The numbers swam, she couldn't concentrate. Even when they made sense, she was worried that Bailey was screwing her up again, submitting false reports for her to memorize so he could show her up at the next meeting.

Rodrigo said "hi", brought her another coffee, then went back to his desk. She did her best to read the reports but finished only one of the four in time for the meeting.

They filed into the conference room. Bailey sat at the opposite end of the long table. She saw that he was staring at her, anger in his eyes. She had no idea what was going on but it scared her. An angry Bailey was a bad thing.

The meeting lasted only an hour. All through the meeting, Vader kept addressing questions to Rodrigo that he would normally have asked her or Bailey. That wasn't good either. Rodrigo was up on the reports and his data seemed to match hers. So at least the reports hadn't been doctored. She nearly dozed off twice during some of Vader's longer ramblings about corporate policy and upcoming projects but was able to catch herself both times. She did notice that nearly everyone in the room focused their eyes on her chest at least once. She wanted to stand up and pull open her top, show them her titties and yell "there, fuckers! OK! Take a picture!" She rubbed her eyes hard. Focus. Focus.

When the meeting was over, Bailey left the room quickly. Vader watched him go, then looked at Diane.

"Bates. Where were you Tuesday night?"

Diane froze. That was the night of Bailey's party. Did Vader suspect something? Was something going on?

"I was home, just watching movies." She paused for effect. "Why?"

"Just curious. I had a project I was going to call you about but thought your might be out." He shuffled his papers, pushed them into a folder and got up to go. He turned back and looked at her. "At home. All night?"

"Yes, sir. All night."

"Good," he said, then walked back to his office.

When Diane go back to her desk, there was an IM from Bailey. "Coffee shop downstairs." She looked around to make sure nobody was looking and deleted it. She locked her machine and got up, went to the elevator and down to the coffee shop next door to their building.

"Bastards at Johnstown turned us in," Bailey growled. He slammed his hand down on the table, coffee splashing out of his cup. "They're going to pull the account. They're threatening Vader with an ethics investigation."

Diane felt her stomach drop, her entire world collapse. Vader knew. He'd have to fire her. But would he bring charges? Would Johnstown sue? Would the police get involved? In a flash, she pictured herself in the shower at a women's prison, remembered the worst movie cliches she'd ever seen as a teen.

Bailey saw her face. He picked up his coffee and took a slow sip, enjoying her fear. He told her to go order herself something.

Diane could barely stand up, her knees were rubbery, her stomach knotted. She looked at the woman behind the counter. She was staring at Diane's chest. The freak show. She ordered a coffee and the woman took her money as though it was infected with something. She handed Diane a cup and pointed toward the coffee machine. She could serve herself.

When Diane sat back down, Bailey leaned forward. "This is all your fault." He looked down at her chest. The top strained under the size of her boobs. "You and your fucking boob job. What the fuck were you thinking?"

Diane's eyes watered. "I didn't do this. This was *done* to me!"

Bailey shook his head. "Don't make fucking excuses. The lifestyle you live, something like this was bound to happen. And now, Vader's on me. One of the men from the party went to Vader and told him about me."

Diane caught that. "Told Vader about *you*?"

Bailey growled. "Yea, stupid. The man from the party wasn't at our meeting. He didn't recognize you. All he knew was that it was me and 'some big titted redhead' whore. He assumed you were a whore, someone I paid to show up and party with them."

Diane felt a rush of relief. She was off the hook. As long as the man didn't compare notes with any of the others.

Bailey leaned forward. "I'm not going down for this. If there is an investigation, it's going to be about you . I'm going to tell them that you set the whole thing up. I fronted it, yes, I'll take a beating for that, but any ethics violation is landing on you. You, over eager to close the deal, willing to do anything including..."

"Hey, fuck you Bailey!" Diane yelled, throwing her hot coffee at him. He got his hands up in time to protect his face, screamed as the scalding coffee burned his palms and fingers. Diane stormed out of the shop while Bailey wiped himself off with a pile of napkins. He jumped up and ran after her, grabbing her in the lobby and dragging her into a side hallway.

"Hey, you stupid cunt, did you see the way Vader was looking at you? He suspects but he doesn't know. Not yet. Do you want me to tell him? Huh!?" Diane shook with anger and fear. Another step closer to the end of her life as she knew it.

He let go of her. "Maybe there's another angle. I have a meeting scheduled with the man from Johnstown tonight. Maybe I can come up with some kind of a deal."

"What does Vader know?"

"Nothing really. I don't think he gave him any details. He just made some noise about a party and a hooker. Vader's anxious but it wouldn't be the first time something like this happened, so he's not gunning for me." Bailey wiped his hand across his pants, the flesh was still bright red. "All Vader really cares about is that we keep this quiet or make it go away." He looked at her again. "You're the wild card here. Lucky, there were no pictures or movies taken, nothing recorded. If they get to talking at Johnstown, they might put two and two together, but I'm guessing it won't happen. I don't think it's their corporate culture to talk about things like this. To do them, yes. To talk about them later, no."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. It's a hunch. But, face it, guys don't talk." He lifted his hands over, palms up. "It's all I have."

Bailey walked away, went out the front door of the building. Diane thought about what just happened. There was little she could do one way or the other. Right now, thought, she was safe. She went to the elevator and then back to her cubicle.

Diane looked at the clock. It was Friday and nearly lunchtime. She hadn't heard from Monish, wondered if she would have the night free. A Friday night free? Not likely. Bailey had avoided her all morning, so she figured there was nothing going on with him she needed to worry about. Vader had called her into the office but it was just paperwork, an expense item he wanted explained. She saw the disappointment in his eyes as he stared at her chest when she walked in. Her boobs were smaller than they'd been all week, but she was still easily bigger than a DD cup, she still ballooned out any kind of top she chose to wear.

Monish called at two o'clock. He told her to be ready to spend the weekend with some repeat customers. They'd enjoyed her and were paying him extra to let them take her further than last time. She felt her heart race - could it be Masozi and the others? She rubbed her legs together while Monish outlined the plan. She would be picked up at five and driven to an apartment downtown. He'd drop off the customers there. They'd made special arrangements with the landlord and were assured complete privacy. Diane felt her pussy swelling, it sounded so much like something the women would set up.

She worked with savage energy the rest of the afternoon, cleared out her email and read all of the reports for next week. Bailey came by once and asked her how she was doing. Had Vader said anything to her? She said "no" and he breathed relief, said "good".

At five, she went downstairs and saw two of Monish's men. She recognized Matt - the scar always gave her the creeps - but not the other one. They walked her to the van, had her strip and change while they drove. By the time they got to the apartment, she was wearing a pretty flower print dress and knee-height white leather boots. The top was cut low and her huge boobs nearly fell out of it. Just after the van parked, one of the men handed her a butt plug and told her to slide it in. They watched smiling as she spit on it, then opened her legs and slid it up into her ass with a single smooth push.

He handed her the key and told her to take the elevator to the top floor. It was a loft and she would need the key to activate the button. Diane nodded and got out of the van. It drove away as she walked toward the door.

The building looked brand new, in a decent part of town. There was a locked revolving door and a row of mailboxes. She found the one for the loft. The name said "Rossy". Diane grinned at the allusion. She pressed the button and heard a click behind her. The revolving door started moving. She stepped in and walked into the lobby. She pressed the elevator button and when it opened, stepped inside. She put the key into the lock that said "loft" and the motor started up. When it got to the loft, it stopped and the door slid open.

Diane stepped out into a huge single room, high ceiling and everything painted hospital white. In the center of the room was a large Roman column with straps hanging from a metal ring near the top. Diane's eyes fixed on it. She could see discoloration where something - more likely someone - had been rubbing against it. Knee level, waist level and shoulder level. On the walls were whips, crops, and canes hanging vertically from small brass-colored hooks. There was an especially scary looking leather bullwhip coiled on one of the hooks. She shivered.

There was a table with a variety of dildos and vibrators of all sizes and shapes. She also saw a box with wires, clamps, and electrical pads piled carelessly beside it. She thought about those devices in Saabira or Masozi's hands, what they could do to her body with them. Her nipples stiffened and she felt her cunt start to get wet.

She walked across the floor, stood in front of the column. If she raised herself on her toes and reached, she could barely touch the metal ring. It looked old and worn, old world iron brought into this new building to continue its legacy of pain. She pressed herself against the column, felt the cool marble against her chest and belly, pushed her cunt against it, shivered. Where were they? When would they get started? She could nearly hear Saabira's voice telling her to stand taller, grind her hips, scrape her nipples against the smooth marble surface. She closed her eyes, rubbed her hips harder, felt the orgasm far away but coming. Who would take her first? Saabira had her all night, maybe Masozi would start this time. Or Katie. Would Katie hurt her? Was she actually what she seemed, the gentle one, the tender one? She remembered Katie's tongue between her legs, remembered Saabira's toe in her own mouth. It was all starting to merge, cocks, fingers, tongues, toes. She felt dizzy, pressed herself harder against the pillar, imagined Saabira standing behind her with the whip in her hand. She ground her cunt against the pillar now, faster and faster, the orgasm closer.

"Ding!" she heard. She stepped quickly back from the column, smoothed the front of the dress. The elevator door opened and out stepped a scrawny looking man in sweat pants and a grey t shirt. He had short, grey hair, was wearing thick glasses and was carrying a small suitcase. He came toward her and she noticed another figure in the elevator.

It was Bailey. "Mr. Taylor and I have come to an agreement," he said.

Taylor said he was tired and needed a break. He dropped the whip to the floor and walked toward the kitchen. Diane closed her eyes and panted hard, trying to catch her breath. The man was insane. She'd never felt this much pain in such a short time before.

Taylor was an anxious, isolated little man who was still single at the age of forty-three. He spent most of his time either at work, reading, or paying hookers for hand jobs. When he read, he read the history of the High Seas. And when he read those books, he focused on discipline. How the Captain or the First Mate "motivated" their crew. He'd collected a variety of things over the years, had them hanging in his front room. Prints and drawings of men tied to the whipping post or pillory, the mate with his arm raised, the man with his back criss-crossed with lines.

And, he collected the whips themselves. Horsehide, rawhide, hemp, leather, he had collected dozens of them over the years. He collected them from all around the world. He'd seen whippings in Singapore, Thailand, South America, and once in the Middle East. He'd even been invited to participate in one in Shanghai. A man had stolen his luggage between the airport and a new luxury hotel the Chinese government had opened. His punishment was one hundred lashes. Taylor had been allowed to administer the first ten.

The man was tied to a tall pillar, his hands tied above his head with leather straps. The official stripped him to his underwear, then wrapped a thick rope around the man's waist. He wrapped it around the pillar to keep the man from turning around during his beating. The official - an evil looking man in a crisp green uniform with a chest full of ribbons and medals - ceremoniously handed Taylor a whip. It was forty-eight inches long, 12 plait black leather with a three-strap popper at the end. Taylor was tentative about the first few blows and the officer took the whip to show him the way it was done properly. He showed him how to stand, how to snap his arm, how to target the blows. The officer let Taylor take practice strokes until he was satisfied he knew what he was doing. He took eight before they started counting for real.

The officer took over at number eleven. He was much better practiced and the man screamed at the first blow. Taylor had left after thirty one, he couldn't stand what he was seeing.

But, since that time, the image of the man had stuck with him. He would occasionally take his souvenir off of the wall and swing it around the room, snapping it against the sofa or a pillow. He'd perfected his aim and had ached for another chance to use it.

It had been eight years since the trip. Eight years of fantasizing about that day. In the meantime, he'd been exposed to more devices. He'd explained to Diane that the one he brought with him was not so well known now but was very prevalent in its day. It was called a codline colt. This whip was special. It was braided leather like the others but this one was knotted every six or eight inches. That concentrated the force of the blow in tiny areas instead of along the entire length of the whip.

From what he'd read online, most in the BDSM community were afraid to use it, or at least chose not to. Over the years, he hadn't been able to find a hooker, escort, or online freak willing to let him try it out on her. One gay BDSM bottom had come close but backed out at the last minute, leaving Taylor alone with an expensive hotel room and a useless video camera.

Diane was a different story. He and Bailey had been drinking at the celebration and taking about Diane. Bailey told Taylor how they'd met, the kinds of parties Monish pimped Diane out for. Taylor was one of the ones who had tit tortured her that night. He wanted to get a sense of her limits, her depravity, her willingness to be physically abused. When he was satisfied that she not only allowed it, but sought it out, he put his plan in motion.

He'd taken photos of Bailey and Diane at the orgy. Then, he called Vader to say he wanted to talk about a possible breach of ethics, giving him just enough to make him talk to Bailey but not enough to reveal anything. Bailey called him and that's when he told Bailey about the photos. Bailey panicked, promised he would do anything Taylor wanted. And Taylor wanted Diane. No holds barred. Twenty four hours of unrestricted access.

Taylor forced Bailey to make all of the arrangements. With Monish. With Diane. With the club that owned the apartment. Taylor had known about the apartment for years, the BDSM club that owned it made it available for a thousand dollars a night. It was completely safe. It was soundproof, stocked with food and liquor and a variety of pain devices and sex toys. They even offered access to other slaves if you wanted them.

Taylor didn't need any of that, only the place and the woman.

... to be continued if you want it ...

CHAPTER 14

Bailey pressed a cup of ice water against Diane lips. She opened her mouth and he raised the glass. She gulped it eagerly, felt the cool liquid going down her throat, a few drops running down her chin.

"He's a sick little fuck, isn't he?" Bailey asked.

"You're...not...the...one...up...here..." Diane managed between short, labored breaths.

... continued from chapter 13 ...

Taylor forced Bailey to make all of the arrangements. With Monish. With Diane. With the club that owned the apartment. Taylor had known about the apartment for years, the BDSM club that owned it made it available for a thousand dollars a night. It was completely safe. It was soundproof, stocked with food and liquor and a variety of pain devices and sex toys. They even offered access to other slaves if you wanted them.

Taylor didn't need any of that, only the place and the woman.

CHAPTER 14 [Week 5 Fri - Sat]

Bailey pressed a cup of ice water against Diane lips. She opened her mouth and he raised the glass. She gulped it eagerly, felt the cool liquid going down her throat, a few drops trickling over her chin.

"He's a sick little fuck, isn't he?" Bailey asked.

"You're...not...the...one...up...here..." Diane managed between short, labored breaths.

Bailey gave her a disgusted look. He reached between her legs, ran his finger between her cunt lips and she gasped. "You're as wet as any twenty dollar whore I've ever met, don't give me any shit about this, bitch." He rubbed her clit and she responded, moaning and opening her knees. "Don't tell me this isn't turning you on."

Diane moaned again, rubbing hard against his hand. She was tied facing the post, arms above her head, a single rope around the pillar and her waist, his hand pressed between her pussy and the marble. Bailey stared at her back. She was a patchwork of stripes and angry red spots from the nape of her neck to just above her knees. Taylor had worked steadily for nearly fifteen minutes, then taken off his t-shirt and worked for another ten. He constantly moved his strokes up and down her back and legs, changing his intensity from gentle swings to nearly full-body lunges, shifting his timing to not allow her to prepare for the next blow.

By the time he stopped for his break, he was drenched in sweat. Bailey saw his hard cock under his sweatpants, wondered if Taylor knew. Bailey was worried, didn't know how much more Diane could take. She was a pain slut, he knew that. She'd endured all kinds of things at Monish's parties but this man was truly something different. A freaky little man after his own White Whale. Bailey looked at her back again, then looked at the horrible tool lying abandoned on the floor. The man had not broken skin but how far off could that be?

Taylor came back into the room, a towel draped around his shoulders. He'd run his fingers through his sweaty hair, it stood up straight in the front and slicked back at the sides. He had his glasses back on, he'd alternately taken them on and off during the beating. Bailey saw that his cock was still stiff, the erection straining against the sweats. Taylor knelt and opened the suitcase again. Without looking at them, he said, "Bailey. Turn her around,"

Diane started sobbing now, begging Taylor to reconsider, offering him her back for as long as he wanted, promising she would let him come to her place anytime he wanted, do anything he wanted, just not use that monster on her titties. Bailey hesitated for a moment but thought about Vader and his job and loosened the rope from around the pillar. He grabbed Diane's hips firmly and turned her, saw her wince as her back pressed against the marble. He pulled the rope tight and walked around behind the pillar to knot it.

Diane's huge titties trembled and she felt the hot tears running down her face, down her neck and chest. "Mr. Taylor, please, please, I'm begging, look, look at my body, look at me, imagine what I can do for you, my mouth, my..." Taylor spun around and gave her a fierce look. "Shut the fuck up, cunt!" he yelled. He jumped to his feet, leapt at her. He grabbed her throat in his hand. "Do you think you can offer me anything I can't already just take?" He squeezed, then let go and stepped back. His face changed, he looked scared.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." His voice went soft, meek. "Just relax and everything will be just fine." He turned around and knelt back down, rifled through the suitcase again.

Diane looked at Bailey. Bailey was stunned as well. Maybe the man *was* insane. Bailey trembled, he considered what he might have to do to protect them both.

Taylor stood up, a pair of nipple clamps in his hands. Diane fought hard to suppress a chuckle. After the horrible pain he's unleashed on her back, it was almost comical to see a pair of nipple clamps. But she couldn't afford to let him know that.

"You are relieved, isn't that true?" he taunted. "These are a dime a dozen in your world, aren't they? Aren't they, whore?" Diane nodded. "Yes. Well, remember this, pretty lady..." He leaned close to her again, his face an inch from hers. "I have you for twenty four hours. I can afford to bide my time." He draped the chain around her neck and walked out of the room.

Diane heard the television set in the other room. For the next three hours, Taylor watched a variety of shows on the History Channel, once coming back into the room to take a small notebook and pen out of the suitcase. He didn't even look at her or Bailey as he went back into the other room.

At ten, he sent out for Chinese, tipped the driver heavily to forget what he saw when he stepped out of the elevator, and went back to the television. Bailey went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich from the wide variety of meats in the refrigerator. He brought a sandwich to Diane. She ate half of it, but told him that it was better not to fill her stomach. He understood what she meant.

At midnight, Taylor came back in and fucked Diane standing, a timid fuck, him squirting a tiny load of semen into her hot pussy. Then, he gave her a kiss and walked into the bedroom.

Diane slept on and off all night, slumping in her bonds until the ache in her shoulder woke her up and she had to stand for a while. Bailey was curled up on the floor, a blanket on top of him, snoring loudly.

By morning, Diane was exhausted from the strain of trying to fall asleep standing up. Taylor made a breakfast of pancakes and sausages for himself and Bailey, played games with Diane as he fed her a sausage from his fingers.

Diane was getting twitchy, feeling the effects of not taking her yellow pills since lunchtime yesterday. She looked at Bailey, wanted to ask him to find them for her, but realized she probably didn't have any with her. That made her afraid. She'd been taking them steadily for more than a week now, wondered what it would be like to go without them.

Taylor finished his breakfast and put the plates in the sink. Diane listened to him walking around the place, as calm as if this were any other day. As though he did not have a naked woman tied to a marble pillar in the other room. As though he hadn't nearly beat her unconscious the night before.

Taylor walked into the big room, Bailey a few steps behind him.

"Nine a.m.," Taylor said softly. "Eight hours left." He stood in front of Diane and ran a finger over her chest. "These are smaller than they were at the orgy." She nodded. "They aren't real, are they. Saline?" She nodded again. "Absorbs a certain number of cc's every day?" "Yes." He nodded, satisfied.

Diane heard a buzzer. "Ah, here we are," he clapped his hands. "Bailey, buzz them in." Diane looked at the elevator, the red light was flashing. Taylor pulled a fresh grey shirt out of the small suitcase, pulled it on over his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his glasses.

The elevator door opened and six men stepped out. Diane recognized some of them from the orgy the other night. The elevator made two more trips and the room filled with all twenty of them.

"Get comfortable. We have until five o'clock," he announced. The men variously changed into robes and towels, poured themselves drinks in the other room, lit cigars.

"Mr. Bailey." Bailey stepped forward, nodded at Taylor. "Have your whore show her marks to my friends." Bailey untied the rope around her waist, then the straps holding her wrists. Diane's arms dropped to her sides. Bailey took her wrist and led her around the room. The men nodded and stared. Some of them ran their fingers along the stripes on her back and ass, others waved her off. "Gross." "Fuck, Taylor, what the hell is that?" "When do we get to fuck her?"

When Bailey had paraded her around the room, Taylor had him tie her to the pillar again, face forward. He stood up and took off his glasses, wiped them on the t shirt.

"Gentlemen. You are aware of my fondness for ancient, seafaring stories?" Diane began to mutter, "no, no, no".

"You know I have been collecting those drawings and prints? And the various tools of the trade that were used both on pirate ships and merchant ships?" Diane continued to moan, "no, please Mr. Taylor, no, please, oh Bailey, oh fuck, no, please..."

"Does anyone remember me talking about the codline whip?" "No...oh please, oh for the sake of all that's holy, please..." "The one from the 19th century?" "...oh please..." "The British Navy condemned them, preferring the Cat o' Nine Tails as more humane?" "Mr. Taylor..My. Taylor..."

One of the men stepped forward, his eyes wide. "Taylor, you wouldn't..." Another man nodded his head. "You can't do this." "Is that what you used on her back? Is that how you did that?"

"Fifteen minutes. All of that in a mere fifteen minutes," Taylor nodded.

"No, you can't, this is insane. Let's just get to the fucking," someone else said.

Taylor shook his head. "I am never going to have an opportunity like this again."

Diane dropped her chin, her chest heaving with her sobs, tears running down her face, between her huge titties, down her belly. Taylor picked the whip up from the floor. He held it out, turned and showed it to everyone in the room. Diane's body shook as Taylor took his place three feet in front of her. He flicked the whip in the air once, twice, letting everyone hear the snap of the whip echo through the room.

Taylor stepped to her side and raised his arm, then swung hard, whipping her across the belly. Diane screamed and a bright red stripe showed on her flesh. Taylor raised his arm again, brought the whip down across her thighs. She moaned, her body jerking against the column.

"Now, the titties," Taylor said. He raised his arm and took a deep breath.

"Enough!" One of the other men stepped forward and held his arm, took the whip from his hand. Diane was breathing hard, panting and moaning. They untied her and took her into the other room, laid her on the bed and fucked her more or less like a normal whore for the rest of the afternoon.

At five o'clock, the elevator buzzer rang again.

Bailey rounded up the Johnstown men and had Taylor escort them down the elevator in groups of four and five. In the meantime, he had Diane shower and clean herself up. She sat in the shower, too weak to stand, letting the hot water wash over her. Bailey helped her up, helped her shampoo and wash, dried her off, and dressed her in a black one piece sheer body suit.

She leaned against him and moaned, "Bailey, Bailey, what kind of sicko did you line up for me next, Bailey, why are you doing this? Bailey, Bailey...Taylor's paid off, isn't he? Why are you doing this..." She continued to mutter, exhausted and dazed, mostly unaware of what she was saying. Bailey supported her and walked her into the big room without saying a word.

Diane's eyes squinted when she recognized Curtis. What was he doing here? Did Monish send him? Or did Bailey know him too? She tried to clear her head but couldn't.

Curtis stepped aside and Diane saw Julie, the fat little whore from the other night, and another hooker standing behind her. The new one caught Diane's eye. She was a six foot tall black woman in a skintight mini-dress. She was firm and muscular and Diane's mind immediately thought of Masozi. She felt her nipples stiffen, saw Julie look at them. Julie looked at Diane's face, then turned to look at the other hooker. "Looks like she likes you, LaTanya." The woman smiled and took a drag from a cigarette. "Yes, I see." She walked toward Diane. Diane was squirming. She felt hot, her cunt swelling, her clit stiffen. She wanted LaTanya to touch her. Or better yet, let Diane touch her. Kiss her big, soft lips, lick her dark chocolate snatch.

LaTanya stopped about three feet in front of Diane and slowly slid her hands down her belly, ran her fingers along the edge of her skirt, slid it upward slightly. Diane's eyes locked on her hand, watched it slide, wished she were touching the firm brown skin.

"Come and kiss me, sugar," LaTanya said softly. In a daze, Diane walked toward her. LaTanya took Diane's right hand and pressed it against her chest, moaning softly. She opened her mouth and let Diane kiss her, their tongues touching each other, lightly at first, then with more and more passion. LaTanya slid Diane's hand down her side, across her hip, then moved it to the front of her thigh. Diane was on fire, nearly came herself. She saw Curtis and Julie step closer, smiling and watching eagerly. LaTanya slid Diane's hand underneath her skirt now, slid it up along the inside of her thigh, moaning softly and kissing harder. Diane's free hand was on LaTanya's bottom, cupping it hard, rubbing LaTanya's right thigh against her own hot cunt. She slid her hand further upward, felt dampness on LaTanya's inner thigh, cum or ooze? Diane didn't know or care. She ground herself against LaTanya's thigh, moved her hand...felt a lump where LaTanya's pussy should be. Diane gagged as her hand explored further. She heard Curtis and Julie laughing as Diane found LaTanya's tightly secured cock and balls, the shaft pulled backward between his ass cheeks, balls crushed underneath the elastic panties. Diane tried to pull away but LaTanya's strong hand held the back of her head and she pushed her tongue deep into Diane's mouth. Diane pushed and pushed but LaTanya wouldn't let go, kissing hard, gagging her with his long tongue. When he finally let her go, she staggered to the bathroom, retching, arms wrapped tight around herself.

Julie followed her into the bathroom, helped her wash up and brush her teeth, rinse her mouth. "Damn! It's good to know there are still some things that can surprise even a freak like you," Julie said as she ran a brush through Diane's hair. Diane was still sobbing, shook beyond anything she would have expected.

"Your udders aren't anything like the pictures Curtis showed me. What happened?" Diane didn't say anything, just stood and trembled, arms still wrapped tight around herself. "Hey, cow! I'm talking to you." Diane still didn't say anything. "I guess the saline got absorbed, huh?" She calmly ran the brush across the top, then down the sides of Diane's head. "Well, Curtis thinks he might want to pump you up again. I got some old men who drooled all over the pictures and offered him a *lot* of money for you and those big cow udders of yours." Diane didn't resist, didn't say anything, she was too far gone to be insulted anymore.

Julie put the brush down and reached into the pocket of her skintight pants. "Here, you need these," Julie said, holding out two of the yellow pills. Diane stared at them, not moving. Julie pushed them into her mouth, handed her a glass of water. Diane took it mechanically and swallowed the speed.

"Well, honey, that's about all I can do for you. We have to get out there, Curtis is probably getting impatient."

They walked back to the big room, Diane still silent and dazed. The speed was having its effect, but it was also making her more paranoid. She stared at LaTanya, stood as far away from her/him as she could. She felt her cunt wet and hated herself for it. LaTanya reminded her of Masozi and Diane wanted her so badly.

The elevator rang again and Bailey handled it. Julie turned to Diane, took her face in her hands and slapped her cheek lightly. "Cum piggie time for you." She turned Diane's head toward the elevator. "A new game to teach you." She turned her face back, looked into her eyes. "Teaching the old cow new tricks. Keeps you marketable."

Four men came in, gang colors and clothes, bandanas and bottles of liquor. They were laughing loudly, fondling a hooker who was nearly naked. She wore a pair of hot pants that barely covered anything and a string bikini top. Her body was skinny, her tits tiny, but she had shiny black hair that hung all the way down to her disproportionately huge ass. She was obviously high, a dazed, drugged look on her face.

"This the skank?" one of them asked. Julie nodded. He grabbed one of Diane's tits and hefted it. "Not bad." He turned to Julie. "Why can't we just fuck *her*?" Julie told him to shut the fuck up and get started. He laughed. "Yes, massa!" He pushed the hooker to her knees and knelt behind her, pulled his pants down and started fucking her ass. The other three gathered around LaTanya and started fondling her. She got on her knees between them and started stroking and sucking their cocks, her mouth moving from the first to the second to the third.

Julie slid an ottoman across the floor and told Diane to get on her back. She did, and Julie adjusted her so her head hung off one end. She knelt on the floor in front of her and held Diane's head in her hands. "You're the cleanup crew tonight," she said. Diane closed her eyes. She suspected but wasn't sure if she would be cleaning up the men or the woman.

It turned out she was cleaning up both of them. When the first man came in the thin hooker's ass, Julie walked her over to Diane and made her squat down. A gush of cum plopped on Diane's face, filling her nose and splashing across her left eye and forehead. "Lick," Julie said. Diane pushed her tongue out tentatively but the hooker knew what to do and started grinding back and forth, pushing her ass hard onto Diane's face. She squeezed her ass and another gush of cum oozed out, Diane swallowed it and kept licking. When Julie was satisfied, the whore got off and the man bent down, dropping his balls on Diane's lips. She opened her mouth and sucked the sack, the licked him clean, cock and balls. Julie had her repeat the same treatment with the other three. When they were finished, Curtis collected his money. Diane lay on the table, feeling the chilly cum she hadn't swallowed drying on her face.

Curtis gathered the men around him, told the hooker to squat over Diane's face. Diane started licking her cunt, unsure what Curtis wanted but sure she would find out. They just stood and watched, the whore moaning but not really very interested. She probably hadn't cum for years. After a while, Curtis asked them if they'd recovered. They were puzzled but nothing if not macho. "Fuck, yea." "Yeah, gimme some poon tang!" Curtis looked at Julie and grinned. "She got appointments?" Julie looked at the hooker and laughed. "Naw, not many of 'em'll fuck her anymore." Curtis handed Julie fifty dollars, then told the hooker to step away. She did, still completely uninterested in what was going on. He leaned over and looked at Diane. "Time for another round." He looked at the gang and said loudly, "this one's on the house, boys!"

While the men started in on the skinny whore, Curtis crouched down beside Diane and smacked her breasts from side to side. "Joe was about right, maybe ten days for full absorption." He squeezed them and Diane saw spots in front of her eyes. He let go and stood up, looking down at her. "We may have to refill those once a week." He walked away, ignoring the tears that were running down Diane's face.

... to be continued if I get enough comments...

CHAPTER 15

Curtis spent two hours with Diane that Saturday night after the gang had left with their hooker. Diane was surprised that Curtis repeated his session with her from a few weeks back, the rubber bands on her tits and jerking himself off while still wearing his street clothes. When he was finished, he turned her over to Julie who pimped her out to a line of men who were expecting the redhead with the huge tits they'd seen photos of. Since Diane's body had absorbed most of the saline since last weekend when the photos were taken, most of them complained. Julie still made several hundred dollars pimping her, but she was clearly angry with Curtis for passing her inferior goods. She promised them that she would deliver next time and glared at Diane, shaking her head. "I guess I gotta get you the very next day, honey."

... from chapter 14 ...

While the men started in on the skinny whore, Curtis crouched down beside Diane and smacked her breasts from side to side. "Joe was about right, maybe ten days for full absorption." He squeezed them and Diane saw spots in front of her eyes. He let go and stood up, looking down at her. "We may have to refill those once a week." He walked away, ignoring the tears that were running down Diane's face.

CHAPTER 15 [Week 5 Sat - ]

Curtis spent two hours with Diane that Saturday night after the gang had left with their hooker. Diane was surprised that Curtis repeated his session with her from a few weeks back, the rubber bands on her tits and jerking himself off while still wearing his street clothes. When he was finished, he turned her over to Julie. She pimped her out to a line of men who were expecting the redhead with the huge tits they'd seen in the photos. Since Diane's body had absorbed most of the saline since the photos were taken, most of them complained. Julie still made several hundred dollars pimping her, but she was clearly angry with Curtis for passing off inferior goods. She promised them that she would deliver next time and glared at Diane, shaking her head. "I guess I gotta get you out there the same day you get your treatment, honey."

The big-tit crowd tapered off around midnight, then Julie made a phone call to Curtis. She was finished with Diane, what should she do with her? Diane listened with tears in her eyes as they talked about her like a thing. They considered several options for what to do with her body. Call the club that owned the apartment and offer her to them for a few hundred dollars. Curtis knew someone who needed a women to use hard for a porno website, but he wouldn't pay enough to make it worth their time. Diane felt herself getting turned on as they talked about different ways she might be used to make them some money. They had no regard at all about what it would be like for her, she was merely an object to sell, flesh to be traded on the market. She slid her hand between her legs and started masturbating. Julie slapped her face and laughed hard, told Curtis what had just happened.

They ended up putting her out on the street with the other girls. Her boobs - shrinking but still oversized - attracted a good amount of business. Curtis insisted on pimping her out at ten dollars a trick - mainly to undercut the others - but she still raised nearly three hundred dollars by the time they sent her home at nine the next morning.

The telephone was ringing, the sound came to her from a long way off. Diane rolled over and opened her eyes. It was just before noon. She'd had three hours sleep. She was groggy but knew she had to get up and find it. It could be Monish. If he didn't answer, he might go to Vader with pictures. And movies. And...something...she shook her head, was too tired to think straight. She sat up on the edge of the bed, stood up but lost her balance, caught herself on the opposite wall. She inched her way along the wall past the bathroom, past the kitchen, following the sound of the phone.

Diane reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner into the front room. She froze. There was a man sitting on the sofa, wearing nothing but a towel, feet propped up on the end table, holding her phone in his hand. She looked down at herself, naked except for a pair of shiny red boxer shorts someone had put on her during one of her tricks last night. The man's eyes were locked on her oversized tits, his hand still outstretched offering her the phone.

"I'm pretty sure it's fo' you," he said with a big grin.

Diane took it from him, sat on the far end of the sofa, curled her legs up underneath her. "Hello?"

"Diane?" It was Lars. "Diane, we haven't heard from you in a while. Just wondering if everything's OK."

"Sure, Lars, just busy at work, you know how it is..." she lied. She watched the man at the other end of the sofa, he'd gone back to staring at the television set and sipping an icy drink. It was playing a rerun of an old sitcom, something in black and white.

"We're all missing you. It's been a couple of weeks now and you have some real fans here, you know." She closed her eyes and nodded. In the last three weeks, she'd gone so far beyond anything they'd done to her she didn't even know where to start explaining.

"I...I don't know if I can make any time commitment right now. A lot of things are up in the air." Like not knowing when Monish is going to pimp me out to some pervert with a nipple fetish, she thought. She shook her head. Focus!

"Diane, you really sound tired. Are you sure everything's all right?" Lars asked, concerned and listening hard. She took a silent breath and tried to lighten her voice.

"Lars, that's *so* sweet of you to be worried, but I'm OK. Really. Work is just insane is all," she said, trying her best to sound casual about it. "All right, but promise me we'll see you soon, OK?" She did and he hung up the phone.

The man on the sofa flicked the remote control and the television went black.

"You awake?" She nodded. "Monish said to wake you up but I thought that would be rude. I'm in no hurry." He motioned for her to come closer. She crawled across the sofa, big tits swinging gently underneath her. "Mmmm.mmm! I love them melons on you. Come on over here and put 'em in my face."

Diane climbed onto his lap, raised herself up slightly so he could suck on her right nipple. She felt his cock stiff underneath her leg. He moved himself around until he'd slid the towel off. His cock slid easily into her wet cunt and he moaned. "Damn, yo' soaked!" Still half asleep, Diane let herself enjoy his mouth on her nipple, his cock inside her. She opened herself as wide as she could, felt him bottom deep inside her pussy. "Bite me," she whispered and he did. "Harder." She felt him pumping faster. She clenched her pussy around the base of his cock. "Harder, harder, harder..." she kept muttering until he jerked hard and came inside her. He pulled his head back and she groaned loud, "oh please, come on, I have to cum! Bite me, bite me!" He pushed her off and stood up, staring at her there on the sofa, legs splayed wide, belly trembling, face desperate. "Phew! I sure got my money's worth." He picked up his pants and shirt from the end table and pulled them on while she watched, angry and horny. "See ya next time, skank."

Diane lay there for ten minutes, eyes closed, one leg hanging off the cushion, the other over the back of the sofa. A small stream of cum trickled out of her pussy, ran down her ass crack and onto the material. She got up and looked at it, thought about wiping it up, thought 'who cares?' and walked toward the kitchen. Who cares, she thought. When you're a totally depraved cum hole who will let anyone do anything they want to you, who the hell cares if your sofa has cum stains on it? In fact, it *should* have cum stains on it. She pictured herself walking back to the soft, opening her legs wide and wiping herself up and down the cushions, soaking them with the cum dripping out of her. She shook her head and went into the kitchen.

She poured herself a glass of orange juice and found a cup of yogurt. As she ate, she noticed there was a message on the phone. She pressed the button. It was Carol. Carol was concerned as well, hadn't heard from her and wondered if everything was all right. Diane would call her back later, set her mind at ease, lie to her too. She was lying to everyone around her, trying to hold her life together. Vader. Rodrigo. Now Lars and Carol. Everything was a lie and it was all because of Monish. The bastard was destroying her little by little.

She took two of the yellow pills and felt better, showered and got dressed. There were no messages from Monish, she had the day free. Diane went shopping for food for the week. It was a little bit futile, she nearly never ate at home anymore, she'd thrown away more food then she'd eaten in the last three weeks, but it gave her a temporary feeling of normalcy. She took her time in the store, fingering cantaloupes, picking canned soups, searching for her favorite ice cream. She noticed that she was looking up and down the aisles a lot, dismissed it as being nervous. She carried the bags to her car, then drove to a coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino and a slice of carrot cake. She noticed that her hand was trembling as she cut into the cake, stopped and took a breath. She looked around, anxious again. What if she ran into someone? One of Monish's customers? Someone who knew about her other life? She took a bite of the cake, couldn't taste it. Someone on the street stopped and looked in the window, looked at her. She thought she recognized his face. He smiled. She lowered her eyes, poked at the cake. Was he one of the men from Johnstown? She thought back to the second orgy, the line of men around her, taking turns on top of her while she lay there with her legs spread wide and moaned and... she shook her head. Focus! She looked out the window. The man was gone. She'd been wrong. She took another bite of the cake but it was flat, tasteless. She set the fork down, pushed the coffee away. Even these simple pleasures were lost now. She couldn't stop the flood of sexual images from creeping into her head with the slightest provocation.

As she drove home, her mind drifted back to the marble column in the apartment. The scrawny little man named Taylor. The whip with the knots in it. She remembered how it felt to completely abandon herself to his will, knowing he was not going to stop, knowing there was nothing she could say, so just slipping into another universe of pain and surrender. He didn't know, she couldn't let him know, that she'd nearly cum as she ground her pussy against the column. She thought of Bailey, how he'd handed her over to Taylor, not knowing how far he was going to go. Interested only in protecting his own job. She was just a thing to her, a thing he could use to get Taylor off her back. She stopped at a red light and looked down, the crotch of her pants showed a small dark spot. The memory of Taylor's flogging was turning her on. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, didn't look up until the driver behind her laid on her horn.

She drove home wondering what Monish had in mind for her tonight. Who would he hand her over to? How far would they go? Could she get Bailey to bring Taylor back. She froze. No! Taylor was insane, he only stopped because he *was* stopped. He would have taken that whip to her tits. She imagined the picture. Herself tied to that pillar, Taylor in front of her, raising his arm, the explosive slice of pain across her chest. She put her hand between her legs and started rubbing herself, felt the dampness with the tip of her finger.

As she unloaded the groceries, she kept looking at the telephone. When would he call? She wished she had Saabira's number. She could casually ask about coming over again. Maybe Masozi would be there. Maybe she could convince Saabira to phone her.

Diane's head swum. No. She couldn't initiate, it would be all wrong, they'd do it all wrong. She opened one of the cans of soup and made herself a small dinner salad, kept the telephone nearby. It's sick, she told herself. These are blackmailers. I need to get back to Lars, need to get back to normal kink players, not these perverts Monish was pimping her out to.

She thought about phoning Lars but didn't. She was paralyzed. Monish might call her at any time and she'd have to cancel on Lars. She was trapped. Monish ran her entire world now, her universe. Everything she thought about pointed right back to him. He was the key to everything. Everything going forward depended on what kind of mood he was in, how he wanted to use her, whether he wanted her to keep her job or not. She ate the soup and salad and drank a glass of wine, waiting for the phone to ring but nothing happened.

Monday and Tuesday at work were very stressful for Diane. Bailey told her that Taylor had reneged on his promise and had in fact taken photos of her this time at the apartment. Diane's stomach twisted, she was now being blackmailed by a pervert who thought he was a captain on the high seas, meting out punishment with his evil knotted whip, working himself into a lather, taking out forty five years of sexual frustration on the territory of her back.

Vader and Rodrigo seemed to be consciously avoiding her. Around lunchtime Tuesday, Carol had called and left her a message that she got a strange phone call from a man named Monish. He'd asked her how Diane was doing. Diane tried to assure her that it was probably a wrong number, just a weird coincidence but she knew better. Monish was sending her a signal, just reminding her who owned her, who made her decisions now.

Tuesday night at ten, Diane heard a car pull into her driveway. She'd been sitting at the kitchen table, a half-eaten bowl of soup in front of her, sipping on her second glass of wine. She heard footsteps on the walkway, then heard the front door open. Three men came in, all faces she recognized from Monish's crew. She didn't bother standing up, just turned and looked at them. She hadn't been touched in nearly three days and was ready for anything.

Two of the men held her arms and the third unbuttoned her blouse, undid her bra. He took a measuring tape out of his pocket and wrapped it around her, measuring her bust, jotting the number down in a notepad. He took two head-on and two profile photographs with a pocket camera, then the three of them walked out, got into their car and drove away.

Diane noticed she was flushed with heat, her nipples hard, her pussy soaked. She needed to do something, she needed to fuck someone - something. She thought about herself on her back on a mattress somewhere, a tongue between her legs. She closed her eyes and touched herself. The tongue was Katie's. And standing over her, watching both of them, was Masozi. She gave no sign she approved or disapproved, she just watched and stared. Diane took her hand away from her crotch and went into the den. She flipped open her computer and started surfing the chat rooms. She found herself flicking from one to another lesbian chat, introducing herself to different women, offering to "go private for one on one" with them. Nobody took her up on it and her frustration grew.

She spent another hour surfing video sites. Lesbian S&M, picturing herself on her back on the tables, on her knees taking the dildoes, knees spread wide so they could attach weighted clamps to her cunt lips then made her walk around the room, waddling like a duck, the round lead balls swinging between her knees.

She surfed over to one of the S&M chat sites. She had to create an account, had to sign up for a one-week introductory membership ($9.95), and found herself talking to three other people, all submissives. She went to another and opened an account for free. This time, there were dozens of names but whenever she went one-on-one with someone, it turned out to be a pay-per-minute ad. She laughed. Here she was, hot, frustrated and available, and completely unable to find anyone on the entire planet who wanted to play with her.

Diane changed her approach and went to the local singles sites. She flitted from room to room, starting conversations, offering to upload pictures of herself from a variety of sessions. She did that four times before she realized that once the person on the other end had the pictures, they were gone. Probably off to a bathroom to jerk off. A real live woman on the other end of the wire was too much for them, they ran off to their little hidey-holes to play with themselves and her pictures.

She finally found someone who wanted to have a one-on-one conversation. They connected by voice and he spent half an hour talking to her about his fantasies with ice skaters. She tried to get into it, tried to play a fantasy game, but it was boring, mundane.

She looked at the clock. It was four-thirty in the morning. Diane shook her head. She'd been up all night trying to find someone to fuck her and she'd failed miserably. And if she didn't get at least a little sleep, she'd be a wreck tomorrow.

Just as she was saying goodbye to the current room, someone pinged her. "You're local?" the screen typed. She took a quick breath. "Yes." "Need a quick fix?" "Yes." "What do you do?" "Anything you want." "anything?" "anything."

The person on the other end gave her an address and signed off. Diane looked up directions. It was less than twenty minutes away. Something in the back of her mind was telling her that this was stupid and dangerous, but it was a much quieter voice than the one between her legs. She put on a black bra and panty set and a red dress and drove across town to the address. When she got there, she saw that the house was dark. She walked to the porch and looked into the front window. The inside was dark but there was a soft blue glow coming through an open door just barely visible. She knocked on the window. There was no answer. She knocked again. There was movement inside now, a figure came through the door and she saw it get bigger as it headed her way. The front porch light flicked on and she heard the door open. A middle aged man with a big pot belly and long, thinning hair opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. He was wearing a pair of cotton striped pajama bottom and a dirty athletic shirt that left his big hairy gut exposed.

"You can't be here," he said anxiously. Diane looked at him, torn between the desire in her cunt and her revulsion at the man's appearance. She noticed the outline of his half-stiff cock through the material and her cunt won. She said "let's go inside." The man's eyes got wider and he waved his hand. "You can't be here," he repeated. Then, someone pushed him out onto the porch. He stumbled and fell off the porch and onto the sidewalk. A short, wiry woman lunged through the door and at Diane. "You fuckin' whore, you're back?" she screamed, raising her arm. Diane saw that she had a leather belt in her hand, folded double. She swung it and hit Diane's raised arm. "Get the fuck off my property! Go on!" She swung again and hit Diane across the hip. She stumbled backward, pushed her way through a bush and ran to her car. "And STAY out!" the woman screamed. Then, she turned to her husband and raised the belt again. Diane sped out of the driveway and into the night.

At work the next day, Bailey told her that Taylor was going to see them again on the weekend, she should do what she can to be prepared. She had to hold her excitement in, if Taylor ever got wind of that, it would be over, he would go crazy on her. So, she begged Bailey to change Taylor's mind, promise whatever he needed to so he would change his mind.

Vader avoided her again, came by once to drop off some paperwork but just dropped it on her desk and kept walking. Diane was concerned. Did he know something? Or was Bailey telling him things? Was her job in jeopardy?

She had lunch at a cafe a few doors down from the office. The woman who served her was a tall, muscular black woman wearing skin tight pants and a loose blouse. Diane stared at her bottom, picturing Masozi, naked and glistening that first night. She thought about Masozi's pussy, the way it tasted and felt against her face, the flood of liquid that soaked her mouth and chin and ran down her body, soaking her belly, thighs, knees...

"Do you know what you want?" the waitress asked again. Diane blushed red, she noticed she was staring at the woman's crotch, less than two feet away. She looked up and saw the condescending look on the waitress's face. "For lunch," she added with a growl.

"Y...yes, I...the tuna sandwich," Diane stammered. The waitress walked to the kitchen, turned back and saw she'd guessed right, Diane was staring at her ass in the tight outfit. She snorted and walked into the kitchen.

Diane wanted to get up and run but couldn't. Her legs wouldn't respond, she was paralyzed in the chair. She tried to think of ways to get back in touch with Katie, Saabira, or possibly Masozi. She was afraid to go to her directly, she wanted to go through one of the others. But how?

The waitress brought the sandwich, leaned forward in an exaggerated way to hand it to Diane. "Like the view?" she sneered. Diane blushed. She was right, Diane's eyes had been focused on her cleavage since she came through the kitchen door. She sat the plate on the table. Diane heard her whisper "fucking dyke" as she walked away. She felt a gush of wetness between her legs as she took a deep breath and drank in the smell of the sandwich.

CHAPTER 16

Monish sent a limo for her at five. He was in the back seat with two others, the driver hidden behind the sliding glass. They drank and talked, ignoring her. Diane asked Monish if he'd heard anything from that Saabira woman. Monish laughed and teased her. "You like her, hey?" Diane shook her head but didn't say anything. "Well, I'm sorry if you do. They ain't on my list no more. They told me they were gonna set me up with a three day show for you, some kind of lesbian S&M festival. Five thousand dollars. Then, they pulled out on me. I already spent that fuckin' money, fucking cunt-ass bitches!" He growled it and Diane flinched, pushed herself back into the corner of the limo and stayed quiet the rest of the trip. She was never going to see them again.

... let me know if you want more...

... continued from Chapter 15 ...

The waitress brought the sandwich, leaned forward in an exaggerated way to hand it to Diane. "Like the view?" she sneered. Diane blushed. She was right, Diane's eyes had been focused on her cleavage since she came through the kitchen door. She sat the plate on the table. Diane heard her whisper "fucking dyke" as she walked away. She felt a gush of wetness between her legs as she took a deep breath and drank in the smell of the sandwich.

CHAPTER 16 [Week 6 Wed - Thurs]

Monish sent a limo for her at five. He was in the back seat with two others, the driver hidden behind the sliding glass. They drank and talked to each other, completely ignoring her. Diane asked Monish if he'd heard anything from "that Saabira woman". Monish laughed and teased her. "You like her, hey?" Diane shook her head but didn't say anything. "Well, I'm sorry if you do. They ain't on my list no more. They told me they were gonna set me up with a three day show for you, some kind of lesbian S&M freak show. Five thousand dollars. Then, they pulled out on me. I already spent that fuckin' money, fucking cunt-ass bitches!" He growled it and Diane flinched, pushed herself back into the corner of the limo and stayed quiet the rest of the trip. She was never going to see them again.

They drove Diane to a rundown hotel in one of the blue collar suburbs nearby. Curtis and Julie were already in the room by the time she got there. Curtis was sitting in a chair near the bathroom and Julie was standing just inside the door, sucking on a cigarette and holding a glass of whiskey.

"You see? You see this?" she said angrily, pointing at Diane. "This is what I meant!" She turned to Diane. "Take off your clothes, you cow," she sneered. Diane stripped, folding her business suit and laying it on top of the dresser. Julie sat the drink on the table and pulled a photo out of her purse. Then, she lifted Diane's left tit in her hand and held up the photo. "You see? I can't promise 'em *this* and then bring 'em *this* can I? You fucking idiot!" she said. Diane didn't need to look to know what the photograph was.

Curtis shook his head. "It was a one time thing, honey. Sorry if there was a misunderstanding." He started to get up. "Is that what you brought me here for?"

Julie raised her hand. "Not so fast, sit back down." Curtis stopped but didn't sit. Julie reached into her purse again, took out a small notebook. She flipped through the pages until she found what she wanted, threw it across the room to Curtis. Curtis picked the notebook up from the floor and looked at the page.

"There's more," Julie said. She lit up a fresh cigarette and told Diane to go get her another drink. Diane picked up the glass and pressed past Julie, feeling sick as Julie's flabby body rub against hers. Her skin was cool, almost reptilian. She stared at the tattoos again. Julie reached for her, caught her elbow. "Hey, did you see my newest one?" Diane shook her head. Julie pulled down her top, baring one of her huge, floppy tits. Julie saw that there was a small barbed-wire design running around the base of the nipple. The skin was mottled and sweaty, but Julie thrust it forward like a work of art.

"Kiss it," Julie said. Diane felt her throat tighten. Julie grabbed her hair and pulled her closer. "Lick it." Diane closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting her tongue find the puckered flesh of Julie's nipple. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue around it, tasting the dried sweat and whatever else made up that foul smell. She gagged but licked obediently, feeling the nipple stiffen against her tongue. "Oh, yeah. I'm gonna have to have you over one night, honey," Julie taunted. She pushed Diane away and adjusted her top. "Pour me two fingers, OK? On ice."

Diane wiped her lips with her hand, walked into the kitchen.

"There are over two dozen phone numbers here," Curtis said to Julie. "Tip of the iceberg. You should see my email IN box." Diane came back into the room, handed Julie the glass.

"I don't know," Curtis said. "But I see your point."

"Hell, even if we only did twenty or twenty five on a weekend, that's an easy three or four grand." Julie took a sip of the whiskey.

He looked at Diane. "So, they'll pay how much?"

Julie raised her hand. She pushed one finger up with her opposite hand. "A hundred for a suck and fuck." A second finger. "A hundred fifty if they can play with her titties while she fucks 'em..." She raised a third finger. "Two fifty for a titty-fuck..."

Diane was mortified. They were talking about her earning potential as a tit slut while she stood silent naked in the room right next to them. She was nothing but a moneymaking opportunity now, just a pair of titties attached to a body that didn't matter.

"What about Monish? Will he be a problem?"

"I don't think so. I've worked with Monish a long time. He's all about the dollar." Julie turned her head, only half addressing Diane. "Cow tits, when's the last time you made any money for Mo?" Diane said softly, "Sunday." Julie laughed. "Sunday, you were working for me, or didn't you know that?" Diane shook her head.

Julie look at Curtis. "See? He lost Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Did you pay him for tonight?" He answered, "no, this one's a freebie." Julie shook her head and laughed. "He's losing his focus. He juggles too many of 'em, he loses track." She pointed her thumb at Diane. "I think he's lost interest. He'll be glad if we take her off his hands."

Curtis shook his head. "I don't think so. I think he likes her. He's got a key and is at her house all the time." Diane shook her head but they didn't notice. He'd been there a few times, but that was it.

"All right, we pitch it this way. We tell him we've got a few customers, we can keep his bitch busy for him in between any sessions he sets up. He's still in charge, he can have her titties back whenever he needs 'em. We'll keep 'em busy the rest of the time. You saw how many numbers are in my book. Even if only half of them fuck her titties once a week, that's a lot of money."

Curtis walked to Diane, took her left nipple between his thumb and finger and pulled it up and out, stretching it to two inches or more.

"Are they going to care about these?" he asked Julie, not looking at Diane at all. He pulled her nipple further and inspected it with his other finger. She winced, her eyes teared up as he pulled hard. Then, he let go and her tit sagged back into place.

"They'll pay to play with those, too." Julie slapped her ass. "Ass, nipples, titties. We can piece them out separately, there's enough freaks out there for everyone." Julie pushed a finger up into Diane's ass. "See how easy? It's almost like she lubes up down there." Diane opened her knees, pushed down slightly as Julie pushed in and out. "And she likes it. That's the difference with this one." She slid a second finger into Diane's ass and Diane moaned, closed her eyes. "Most of 'em, you can tell they're doing it for the green." She pushed a third finger inside Diane's ass. "Not this one. This one's the real deal." She pulled her fingers out, pushed her hand into Diane's mouth. Diane licked her clean, slurping greedily.

Curtis took his phone out of his pocket. He punched in a phone number, waited for it to ring. Diane watched him, stomach tight, wondering how many men would really want to just fuck her tits. They were nice, but she didn't think it was a very common kink.

"Joe?" Curtis said. Diane felt her stomach drop. They didn't just want to fuck her tits. They wanted to grow them again. She shook her head, looked at Julie, started stammering "no, no...you aren't going to do that again, you can't, you..." Julie jumped up and slapped her across the face, back and forth four times. Diane stopped talking, heard Curtis go on.

"Yes... Nearly back to normal... No... wait..." he turned and set the phone down on the dresser. Then, he cupped Diane's tits in his hands, raising them, dropping them, twisting and pulling the nipples. Her eyes watered again, she bit her lip but remained silent. "No, I don't see any... yes... So, how much a day is that?... Yes, sounds right... let me get back to you." He pressed the button and the phone clicked off.

"Well?" Julie asked.

"He'll do it. But, he might have to inject her every three or four days." Diane felt her knees shaking, her body trembling.

"And they're always going to be tender all the time. That could be a problem."

Curtis looked at Diane's chest, flipped one of her breasts, watched it swing side to side. "Not for us." He looked at Diane. "For her maybe." He looked back at Julie. "For us, it's money in the bank."

Diane started sobbing out loud now. Curtis told her to shut up or leave the room. Julie pulled her closer, rested Diane's head on her shoulder, stroked her hair.

"Honey, honey, calm yourself," she said in a gentle voice. "You know what you are, you know what your life is now, you just need to relax and accept it, let it happen. It's for the best...you're going to be a great little addition to our stable. A perfect little cow, with perfect little udders."

They went on talking about how to best use her new titties, should they have a bra specially made, should they lube her for the titty fucks, how much extra would they charge someone who wanted to do nipple suction, did they want to inject hormones so they could milk her? On and on, they looked for more and more depraved ways they could use her, estimating the cost of each new service they could offer.

Curtis phoned Monish and pitched their plan. Monish objected, he wasn't sure how his regulars would react. Diane listened intently, relieved that Monish at least had some common sense. Most of Monish's customers were more interested in bondage, flogging, restraint and sex than freak show tit sluts.

In the end, it all came down to money. Curtis negotiated a fifteen percent cut for Monish on any action Julie brought in with her big titty pitch. Monish was satisfied. Diane was crushed, another sign that she was nothing now but a commodity to be negotiated over.

"Call in and take tomorrow off work," Curtis told Diane. She shook her head. "I can't. They need me at a meeting, it's..." He cut her off. "Take tomorrow off." "You don't understand, it isn't like that. Bailey won't be able to make the pitch withou..." Curtis slapped her again and handed her the phone. "I won't say it again."

Diane whimpered as she pressed the buttons, told Vader that she'd been throwing up all day and wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow, gave him some pointers on how to handle the customer, then hung up.

Curtis phoned Joe and simply asked, "how soon can you get here?"

Diane stared at the crack in the ceiling. It ran from one corner of the room to the opposite wall, right through Saranna Lee's leg. Diane tried to focus on the crack but couldn't stop her eyes from wandering back to Lee's 44H sized chest. She knew the woman's name and cup size three different ways. First, and most obvious, was that it was overlaid in thick black numbers across the bottom of the picture that was bring projected on the ceiling above her. Second, because the woman's name and bra size were being repeated in the earbuds that were taped in place in her ears. And third, she was memorizing them.  Not by choice, but because the two dozen or so pictures, names, and chest sizes had been playing in her ears in a repeating loop for the last two hours.

Diane was laying naked, flat on her back on a thin cushion. Joe had arrived just before eight o'clock last night and set up his equipment. Diane had fought as they strapped her to the top of the dresser, more out of habit than hope. The straps held her immobile - shoulders, belly, hips, knees, ankles all tied with thick bands of leather. She could freely lift and turn her head a bit, but her hands were useless and that was all that mattered.

The picture changed. "Anna Nicole Smith. 42DD. Anna Nicole Smith. 42DD."

The pictures changed and the names and sizes repeated in her ears in unpredictable patterns. Sometimes ten times, sometimes twenty, sometimes five, then the next one came up.

She could see that the saline drip bag hanging from the aluminum rod was nearly empty. She wondered what would happen when it was finished. What if Joe didn't come back? Was that a problem? Was that a possibility?

Joe explained to her that he was using a different procedure. The needles he'd used last time were more for Curtis' enjoyment than a practical necessity. He would use a simpler method this time, just letting the saline drip into her directly from the bags.

"Maxi Mounds. 61MMM." Diane still flinched when she saw this one. The photos had to be retouched, fake. Weren't they? "Maxi Mounds. 61MMM."

Each bag took about four hours, she was near the end of the second one. Joe had promised Curtis an enormous chest, larger than last time. Diane didn't know what that meant in terms of numbers and letters, but it didn't matter. She was going to be like the freaks in the slide show, she knew that. Julie had made it clear that she was going to be their featured offering, their number one product for the big boob crowd.

Joe had bragged that he'd done more research and was ready to push her farther, she would be the largest he'd ever attempted. Diane was too scared to listen, hadn't looked when Joe passed around a photo of a J sized girl. Her name was Traci Topps, a big bust model from the 90's. Curtis didn't believe what he was looking at, Julie just laughed. "Yeah, I seen 'em like that. Sure would give you a sore back tho."

"Pamela Anderson. 36DD." Diane shook her head and stared at the smiling face on the slide. Pamela Anderson had been her idea of a huge-chested woman until today. Now, she was just another girl.

Joe had let Diane rest two hours between the first bag and this one, had told her that he had to time everything just right or her tits wouldn't look natural. She laughed bitterly and said, "natural?" Joe warned her, "you might not like the way these look, but trust me, if you ever saw this done badly, you'd appreciated me taking my time." Diane shuddered to imagine what a "bad job" might mean.

"Norma Stitz. 72ZZ. Norma Stitz. 72ZZ." Diane's stomach and throat tightened. Norma was the most extreme of the bunch. "Norma Stitz. 72ZZ" But that wasn't it. What Diane was bracing herself for was the next half hour. The last two times Norma's picture had come up, it was followed by a series of tit torture videos. From amateur sites, professional sites, bondage clubs, even pay sites that had been hacked. The videos ran for twenty minutes or so before going back to the slide show.

Diane closed her eyes, but the sounds in her ears had the same effect this time as they had the last two times. After just a few minutes of listening to the moans of the helpless submissives and the steady, commanding voices of their doms, she felt her nipples getting stiff and her cunt getting wet. She opened her eyes and drank in what she saw, picturing herself as the woman, grinding her hips in frustration, wishing she could touch herself and masturbate to the sights and sounds, wishing the woman in the picture was her.

It was seven thirty Thursday night when Diane had the most humiliating experience of her life. So far.

Joe had finished her treatment by mid-afternoon. He turned off the projector and gently removed the earbuds. He let her rest on the dresser while her body adjusted to what he'd done to it. Between the second and third bags, he'd lifted her shoulders and slid a piece of plywood underneath her, then attached two vertical pieces to it, giving her huge breasts some support. She felt them huge and swollen and pressing hard against the wood, looked down and saw her nipples. She hadn't considered what might happen to them as she swelled bigger and bigger until she noticed the Stitz woman's. Diane's breasts weren't nearly that huge, but the areolas had stretched, followed the swelling of her breasts. Each was nearly four inches across now, the nipples standing stiff in the center. She closed her eyes tight and tried to get the image out of her head.

Diane lay there in silence, listening to Julie making phone call after phone call, promising pictures of the newest tit slut in town, a hot blond with 42 J size jugs. The man at the other end said something and Julie laughed, "nipples like cigars. You'll love 'em." Julie hung up the phone and punched another number. She yelled to Curtis, "another nipple freak!"

Julie scheduled appointments back to back in 30 minute windows, starting that Friday night at six and running non-stop till Sunday night at midnight. Most were solos, only two of the appointments were for groups. Each group had a two hour window and they had to promise Julie could stay to monitor so things didn't get out of hand.

About four o'clock, Julie finally closed her notebook and settled back.

"Curtis, dear! Bring me a beer," she yelled into the kitchen. Curtis came in holding two cold beer bottles.  Julie took a long chug, emptied half of the bottle. She wiped her hand across her mouth. "I guess I better do her hair."

Joe nodded and undid the buckles that were holding Diane's straps in place. "Sit up," he said. "SLOWLY." Diane squeezed her eyes tight and let her legs slide off the edge of the dresser. When she tried to sit up, she couldn't. The weight of her new titties was too heavy and they were screaming with pain.

"That's OK," Joe said. "Go nice and slow." Diane shook her head. "I can't, I can't." "Easy," Joe encouraged her. "Hold them if it'll help," he said. Diane wrapped her arms across her belly underneath the huge swollen globes that hung from her chest. She had to make every move carefully, everything was new and everything hurt.

"Here, sit her here," Julie said. Diane settled into a kitchen chair she'd brought into the room and surrounded with towels. Julie washed Diane's hair, then started applying the chemicals that would turn Curtis' redhead into Julie's blond.

By six, they were finished and examined their product. Diane stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. Her hair had been dyed blond, then cropped short and spiky. Julie had shaved her cunt hair down to a single strip, also dyed blond. But the huge change was her new rack. Diane hadn't seen the photos of the J size tit model so she was shocked to see the huge watermelons hanging from her chest. She wouldn't have believed it if someone told her or showed her a photo, she would have said it was fake. But these weren't fake. These were hers.

The weight was horrible, she could barely stand erect. Julie told her she'd have to work on that, she couldn't sell her if she was hunched over hiding her titties all the time. "A good product knows how to present itself," Julie said.

"Speaking of presenting, we have to get our investment something attractive to wear," Curtis said.

"Yes. She opens for business tomorrow night."

Julie produced several stretchy pieces of material and maneuvered Diane into them. When she was finished, Diane looked worse than any trashy hooker she'd seen those nights they made her work the streets. She was wearing bright yellow thigh-high stockings, a skintight, sheer black miniskirt no more than five inches wide, and a sheer burgundy colored top that covered her from underneath the armpits halfway down her belly. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her landing strip cunt was visible through the skirt and her huge breasts strained the top to its ripping point.

"Walk for us," Joe said. Diane turned and took a step forward. She nearly toppled, her balance completely off. "No spiked heels yet, eh?" Joe laughed. Julie said, "give her a minute."

Diane walked slowly up and down the hall, trying to keep her titties from shifting but it was no use. They were too big and too new. She felt her nipples rub against the fabric, her titties swinging and sore.

After she'd walked up and down the hall five times, Julie put her in spike heels. She had to practice a long time before she could take any more than a few steps. As soon as Julie was satisfied, they told Diane to get in the car.

They drove her to the mall. It was a Thursday night so it was not particularly busy. Diane was relieved. She felt embarrassed as they walked her through the Penney's department store and past the smaller video outlets and jewelry shops. She saw a family approaching and stepped into one of the stores, doing her best to turn invisible.

Julie told her that they were heading to the famous Victoria's Secret store to find her some sexy things to wear for her new customers. They walked past the record store and another restaurant. Diane happened to look in the window and froze. It was Carol and her mother. They were sitting at a table just inside the window, waiting to be served. "What?" asked Julie. "No...nothing," Diane said just as Carol looked up. Their eyes locked and Carol's mouth dropped open. "Someone you know?" Julie asked. "No! Let's go," Diane said, walking quickly away. Julie grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "I don't think so. You're not going anywhere." She motioned for Joe to hold Diane's hand and she did. Julie stripped off her jacket, exposing more of her tattooed flesh. She hiked up her skirt until the bottom of her ass was showing, then lit a cigarette. "Come on," she motioned to Curtis and Joe. Diane tried to wrestle herself away but between keeping her balance and dealing with her new huge tits, she couldn't put up much of a fight.

Julie walked into the restaurant and led Curtis and Joe to the table Diane had been looking at. Joe led Diane to the table, pushed her forward. She stumbled and had to grab the table for support.

"Diane?" Carol's mother asked. Diane looked at her, nodded. "Hello." Carol gave her a puzzled look. "Diane? What's going on?" Julie turned and reached her hand behind Diane's head, pulled her close and gave her a loud, slurpy wet kiss. Diane struggled but Julie was stronger. When she removed her mouth, she ran her hand over Diane's chest, gently tugging her left nipple. Diane let out a moan, she couldn't help it. Carol's mother put her head down, closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look.

"Diane, who is this?" Carol stammered, trying to make sense of it all. "Oh, hasn't Diane told you about me?" Julie asked. "I'm hurt. We've been lovers for nearly a year now." She kissed Diane again, running her tongue along her neck. "Have you been hiding me, baby? Do I embarrass you?" Julie leaned forward, pushing her cleavage into Carol's face. "My tattoos? Or that my body isn't nice and slim like yours?"

Diane was shuddering, tears running down her face and unable to form words. Her embarrassment was too deep, she couldn't talk. She looked at Carol's face. Carol was confused, hurt, that her friend hadn't told her about this. A whole year? An entire year she'd been sneaking around with her piggish and rude lesbian lover?

And her hair. And the monstrous breasts. Carol's head was swimming. She wanted to know what Diane had done to her body and why, but was more hurt that she'd kept everything such a secret.

"Diane, I would have been there for you," Carol said quietly. "You just needed to tell me."

Diane looked at Carol then turned away. Julie ran her hand up Diane's side, back down her leg. "These two are some guys we picked up for the night." Carol stared at Julie in disbelief. Julie smiled, her evil eyes gleaming as she watched Carol come apart. "You mean she never told you? Diane swings both ways, honey. She's quite the center of attention at parties." Julie paused to let that sink in. Then, "and she likes little groups like this. You know. DP?" Carol's face was blank. Julie softened her voice to a loud whisper. "Double penetration. You know, more than one man at a time." Diane was crying now, her life was being dismantled in front of her eyes. Julie leaned over, ran her fingers along Carol's forearm. "You should join us sometime." She leaned closer and whispered. "Your girlfriend licks a mean pussy. How about you? You two ever get it on?" Carol just turned her head away, her eyes tearing up. "I think you should go."

CHAPTER 17 ... should we continue?

...continued...

Diane looked at Carol then turned away. Julie ran her hand up Diane's side, back down her leg. "These two are some guys we picked up for the night." Carol stared at Julie in disbelief. Julie smiled, her evil eyes gleaming as she watched Carol come apart. "You mean she never told you? Diane swings both ways, honey. She's quite the center of attention at parties." Julie paused to let that sink in. Then, "and she likes little groups like this. You know. DP?" Carol's face was blank. Julie softened her voice to a loud whisper. "Double penetration. You know, more than one man at a time." Diane was crying now, her life was being dismantled in front of her eyes. Julie leaned over, slid her hand down Carol's arm. "You should join us sometime." She leaned closer and whispered. "Your girlfriend licks a mean pussy. How about you? You two ever get it on?" Carol just turned her head away, her eyes tearing up. "I think you should go."

CHAPTER 17 [Week 6 Thurs - Sun]

Diane leaned against the bathroom stall, limp and sobbing. She held her arms across her chest, supporting her breasts, which shook and hurt more with each sob. The door to the women's room opened and she heard footsteps approaching. Diane tried to hold her breath but couldn't.

"What's the matter?" she heard Julie's voice taunting her. "Don't you love me anymore, honey?" Julie's footsteps came closer. "Do you remember that first night with Curtis?" Closer. "I asked you if you wanted to work with me?" Closer. "I even gave you my cell phone number. Do you remember that?" Julie's voice got louder, more agitated. "Do you remember that, honey?" Diane could tell that she was right outside the door.

"Why did you have to do it?" Diane sobbed through the door. "She was my friend. She was my best friend."

"I'm your best friend now," Julie said calmly. "I am your only friend now, honey. Now that you're a whore, I'm going to be your only friend from now on."

Diane shivered, the woman's voice was getting more frantic, edgier. Was she crazy? High?

"I gave you my personal number - my PERSONAL NUMBER and you never called me," Julie was yelling now. "You fucking cow, you never even called me to say hello!" Julie shoved the door, the slide bolt held. "You thought you were so much fucking better than me, didn't you? Didn't you!" She slammed her foot against the door. "You don't think that anymore, do you?" She slammed it again, then stopped and took a deep breath. In a voice that was calmer but still rippled with anger, "open the door, cow tits." A pause. "Now."

Against her will, Diane's hand went ahead and slid the bolt. Julie pushed the door open slowly. She had all the time in the world. Diane wasn't going anywhere.

Julie looked at Diane's tear-stained face. She pulled some toilet paper off of the roll and wiped her cheek. "She didn't know anything about this. There was no reason for that," Diane sniffed. Julie didn't answer. "Why? What did you get from it?" Julie looked at her and smiled. "I just felt like it." She threw the tissue into the toilet, smiled an evil smile at Diane. "That's how it is gonna be for you from now on, dear. When someone feels like doing something to you, they get to do it." She pushed the toilet handle with her foot. "It's just that simple."

Julie led her out of the bathroom. The four of them walked to the Victoria's Secret store. For the next twenty minutes, Julie, Joe and Curtis asked the clerks the most obscene questions about "accessibility" and "support" and "crotch absorbency" while touching Diane's body to demonstrate. She left with a variety of corsets, stockings, and bras. They made a point of telling the clerks they didn't need panties as she never wore them. To make their point, Julie pulled up the tight, sheer skirt. It was pointless, her trimmed pussy was clearly visible through the skirt, but - as Julie explained to Diane later - she 'just felt like it'.

The three bras they bought were just for show. They were the type known as 'sleeping bras', with nearly no support and thin material that did nothing to keep her nipples from clearly showing through. To her relief, they didn't make her change and she followed docilely through the mall again, this time not caring who saw her.

Diane sneaked into the building through a side door, took the stairs rather than the elevator, and went straight to her desk, moving quickly and trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye. It still took only ten minutes before her phone rang and Vader called her into his office.

Diane didn't object, didn't try to adjust her clothes, she just stood and looked down at her massive tits and shook her head. Julie had taken her home before midnight and she'd had a good night's sleep, but being so late, there was nowhere she could go to try and buy new clothes. She had the same problem she had last week but this time she didn't even bother with the elastic bandages. They hadn't done much good last time and this time her tits were even bigger. At the Victoria's Secret, Julie had asked one of the young women to measure her friend. Joe had enlarged her to a 40G, four full cup sizes bigger than her normal 40D's. Diane remembered that she'd been relieved - relieved! - to hear that, especially after staring at Norma Stitz and the others for nearly twenty four hours straight. She was freakishly large, but not anything like she might have imagined.

"Bates," Vader said softly, motioning for her to sit down. Diane sat down, leaning forward slightly, trying to curve her shoulders and hide what she obviously couldn't hide. Vader was staring at the spiky blond hair, caught himself, and looked at her face.

"Bates. I...don't know what to say. I know I can't pry into your personal life, I'm sure that you have reasons for what you're doing, but I wanted to say two things." His voice was slow and measured. Diane felt empty inside. Vader had been her boss for a long time and they'd grown close. He always treated her fairly, they liked each other. She knew that the first reprimand had torn him up, wondered what he would say now.

"First, I...Diane, we've known each other a long time. This isn't like you. Can I ask you something, not as your boss, but as your friend?"

Diane tensed. He might ask any of a hundred things and she'd have to answer with one of a hundred lies. "Go ahead."

"Is everything all right? Do you want to take some time off? Work through some things?"

She shook her head. There was no point. Monish's blackmail wasn't something that could be "worked through".

"Is it something medical? I couldn't help but notice that you were...larger, then...not...and now..." his voice faded, there wasn't any way to say it without saying it. Diane's stomach turned. Yes, and she'd probably continue looking different each few days. Yes.

Vader took a deep breath, looked at her, waited. He was as uncomfortable as she was, she thought, maybe more, though maybe that wasn't possible. His eyes looked at the door behind her, at the desk, everywhere but directly at her.

"The second thing is that..." he paused again. "...this is creating a bit of a distraction. Here in the office. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded. Of course she understood. The first time she showed up like this, men were bumping into each other watching her walk down the hall. This time, she'd seen one spilled coffee and one man trying to press a power outlet to summon the elevator. Distraction? She'd have to agree.

"I thought that something like this was permanent," he said.

Diane didn't have an answer ready and stammered, "I...it isn't..." Vader asked, "so you did this voluntarily?" She looked at him, eyes damp but still unable to speak. "You did. This is not permanent, this up and down is something you did to yourself." She didn't say anything. This girl needs help, she'd messed up, he thought. After a moment, he regained his composure, told her to head back to her desk, see if Rodrigo wanted help with the proposal he was writing, then picked up his pen and wrote something in his calendar.

The first man showed right on time, had her oil up her tits and lean forward on his lap while he pushed his cock between them. When he came, he spurted all over her neck and chin, grunting like he'd been punched. The second man did the same, the third and the fourth.

The fifth man was a little more inventive. He had her lay on her back on the edge of the bed, her head hanging over. He had her lick his balls while he fucked her tits, squatting and steadying himself with his arms on the edge of the mattress.

Most of the rest of that first night, they were straight tit-fuckers. Diane was frustrated to tears. Her tits were still sensitive and the constant pressure of the men pushing against them hurt. But it wasn't a good hurt - it wasn't sharp or biting. It was a dull, throbbing soreness that did nothing to arouse her. And she was bored. The men hardly talked to her, they came in, pulled down their pants, used her, and left. She usually had twenty or more minutes after each one to clean up. They came fast and moved on. Julie came in after her two a.m. session and told her that she'd really miscalculated. She'd book them in fifteen minute slots next time.

At eight a.m., Julie gave Diane a half hour break to eat. She fell asleep instead, exhausted from being up all night. Another break at two, then dinner at eight. Dinner was salad and a chicken breast. She ate leaning over the table, resting her tender titties on a towel. She had to reach around them to cut the meat, didn't realize how much they were going to complicate even normal activities.

At eight-thirty, Julie took the plate and towel and introduced Diane to her next appointment. The men came steadily all Saturday night and Sunday morning. At eight, Julie brought her coffee and a donut for breakfast. Diane, going on forty-eight hours with only two hours sleep, begged Julie for Monish's little yellow pills. Julie told her that there were none left and that she didn't have any money to get more. Diane snapped, "how much money have you made in the last day? HOW MUCH! You can buy me a few fucking speed pills, you fucking freak!" Julie didn't react, just stared at her calmly. "You finished?" Diane nodded. "Good. You're in for something special. The first appointment this morning is a group. They're outside waiting." She picked up the coffee and dumped it out in the sink. "With their equipment." She threw the donut in the disposal. "I'm going to let them get an early start with you." Diane hung her head, eyes wet.

The group were fetish photographers who wanted new material for the website. They had Diane put on a series of different masks - Julie insisted on keeping her face hidden - and put her in a series of obscene poses. They told Diane that their website was called "Sore Jugs" and that she should start preparing herself for some more "extreme" photos. Over the next hour and forty-five minutes, they shot nearly three hundred pictures of Diane. Dressed as a farm girl, as an office assistant, as a nurse (she groaned when they showed her that outfit), in a variety of different costumes. Each time, the series was the same. Full costume with cleavage showing, then top unbuttoned, removed, hands tied behind her back, ropes around the base of each tit, clothespins on the nipples, then a sunburst of clothespins around the areola. The ring of clothespins was shot three times. First, a series of eight in a circle. Then a full twenty-four. Finally, the twenty-four plus another ring of twenty-four an inch or so away from the first set.

During the shoots, one of them noticed that she was getting turned on as they were attaching the outer ring of clothespins. He was right, she was panting and squirming and it wasn't just from the pain. He pulled a vibrator out of his equipment bag and had one of the others hold it between her legs as he took the shots. The result was a series of facial contortions that ranged from pain to pleasure and back. When she came, she'd jerk and shake, tits bouncing and clothespins biting into her flesh. Her face showed each wave of pain that shot through her chest.

When they were finished, she was exhausted and sweaty. Her ten-thirty appointment showed up while they were still packing up their gear. He was amazed by how sensitive her tits seemed to be while he was fucking them - she kept moaning and cumming - and signed up with Julie for another session later.

Julie came into Diane's room at two thirty. "One more customer and you're done for the day. You can go home." Diane raised her head from the table and looked at Julie. Her eyes were red and bleary, she'd been without sleep for over fifty hours. She worked hard to keep her focus on Julie's face but her eyes kept drifting to the short woman's cleavage. Julie leaned forward, her big, saggy tits stretching her shirt. "Yeah, I thought that might happen." She wiggled slightly, her tits swinging free underneath her top. "Those movies got into your head, didn't they?" Diane blushed red but couldn't help getting turned on. Her eyes locked on Julie's nipples and she felt her lips open up, her tongue licking her mouth. Julie stood up and walked closer to Diane, leaned forward and pushed her chest against Diane's face. Diane opened her mouth and turned her head, looking for Julie's nipple.

"Uh, uh," Julie laughed, then pulled away and walked to the door. "Five minute warning," she said with a smile. "Pretty yourself up."

The last man came into the room and unceremoniously led her to the bed, pulled her top off, took off his pants, and tit fucked her until he shot his load all over her neck and chin.

Diane staggered from the taxi to her front door, reached for the knob and twisted. Locked. She felt for a key in her dress, but there was nothing there. She walked around the back and went in through the unlocked patio door.

She made her way into the kitchen and turned on the cold water. She leaned forward, splashed it on her face, feeling slightly more refreshed. She knew that if she fell asleep, she might not wake up until Monday, and would still be exhausted when she got to work. She pressed the speed dial on her phone that dialed Monish. He wasn't there, but she talked to Marco.

"I need to talk to Monish, I need more of his yellow pills," she said. The man at the other end of the phone laughed and said he's pass along the message. She hung up and stared at the phone. She couldn't go to sleep until she knew if Monish was coming. No, wait, he has a key. He can wake me. No. What if he calls and I don't hear the phone. She couldn't think straight, decided she should call Saabira. No, that was wrong. She didn't have Saabira's number. She would call Monish. No. He didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore, not after the show fell through. Who? Lars. Lars?

Diane phoned Lars, told him she thought she'd have some free time this week. He was excited but before he could suggest anything, she asked if he knew a woman named Saabira.

"Where did you hear that name?" Lars asked, cautiously.

"I...someone I was playing with...mentioned her," she stammered, uncertain why Lars was asking.

"Are you sure that's the name?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure." Positive.

"Saabira is a very private woman," Lars said. Diane's heart jumped. Lars knew her! "She is not someone you phone," he continued. "She is someone who phones you."

Diane thought about that. How to best ask him to contact her? Should she let him know she'd already met Saabira? Would it do any good?

"Lars, the things I heard were...interesting. Could you...describe me to her and see if she...might want..." Lars interrupted her. "Diane. I really don't know if you're ready for this. From what I've heard, she can be a bit severe..."

Diane hung her head. Lars was being protective of her. He had no idea what she'd been through in the weeks since she last saw him. What Monish and Curtis had turned her into.

"I'm OK with that, Lars. Really. I think I'm ready to take the next step." She felt herself getting excited. Lars was listening, taking it in, she might be able to have him contact her. Maybe she could bring Lars along. And Julie. And Monish. And Vader. And...she stopped, no, not Vader, he wasn't part of it. Her head was swimming again, she needed sleep, she couldn't focus.

"Lars, would you see if..." the phone beeped, she had another call coming in. "Lars, I have to go. Could you please see if you can locate her?"

"I'll see what I can do," Lars said.

"Thanks. Listen, I have to go, I have another call," Diane rushed him. If it was Monish with the pills, she couldn't afford to miss his call.

"Sweet dreams, OK?" Lars said. Diane pressed the button and quickly said, "Monish?"

"Yeah. Five hundred dollars. A car is on the way."

"But..."

Monish hung up.

Diane got up, threw the phone to the floor and went into her office. She opened the closet, knelt down and turned the knob on her small safe. Another five hundred dollars. In the last two weeks, she'd paid out fifteen hundred dollars to Monish for the drugs. Plus the charges they'd put on her card for Curtis' hotel two weeks ago. A total of nearly five thousand dollars so far.  She was still in good shape financially, but at this rate, things could change fast.

She counted five one-hundred dollar bills and closed the safe. She started to stand up, lost her balance. She still wasn't used to the weight of her new chest, steadied herself against the desk.

Monish's driver show up quickly, took her money and handed her 24 pills. She argued that he'd promised her more and he just laughed. "I have a friend who needed some, so we're sharing, like a nice girl should." Diane just nodded and opened the small plastic. She took two of the pills and went to the kitchen for water.

"Come on, they're waiting," the man growled. Diane sat the rest of the pills on the table and followed him out to the car. They were alone and he had her sit in the front seat. "Just so I can keep an eye on you," he joked.

"Diane. Do you know what a quirt is?" Taylor asked.

"No...no, I don't..." Diane said through trembling lips. "I don't." But she did. She saw it in his hand, was already wondering what it was going to feel like slashing across her huge tits.

She'd never heard the word before a few months ago. One of Lars friends had mentioned it to scare her. She didn't know what it was at the time but looked it up when she got home. It was a type of short whip used mainly for horse racing.

There were several different kinds. She'd seen this type listed as a "Cuban quirt". It measured 18 inches long and three-quarters of an inch wide. It was basically one long piece of leather that was folded over and the strands intertwined by splitting one horizontally about halfway down the fold and pulling the other through the opening. This kept them working in unison to deliver the maximum amount of pain from each strand.

Taylor turned to Curtis and asked him if he was certain she was secure to the column. Curtis nodded, went back to fingering through Diane's wallet. "Here we are," he announced, holding up a credit card. "I'll transfer the deposit and the charge. You go ahead, don't wait for me," he said to Taylor.

Taylor raised the quirt and ran it slowly across Diane's cheek. "Nasty looking invention, isn't it?" He laid it across her shoulder, let go of it, watched it rest there, like a menacing snake waiting to attack.

She heard Curtis talking to someone on the phone, watched Taylor unbutton his shirt. Curtis read her credit card number to the person on the phone while Taylor folded his shirt and laid it over the back of a chair. "Yes, please charge today and tomorrow. Yes, both to this number." Curtis instructed them. "And refund the charge on my card." Taylor picked up his glasses, put them on and walked toward Diane. Curtis smiled at her. "There, that's all taken care of." Another two thousand dollars. She realized that - including the speed she was buying from Monish - she'd paid over six thousand dollars in two weeks to provide people rooms where they could abuse her.

Taylor reached for the quirt and slid it slowly off Diane's shoulder, across her left tit. He stood to the side, asked Curtis if he could see all right. Curtis nodded. Taylor raised the quirt high and swung it toward her with all of his strength.

CHAPTER 18 [Week 7 Mon - Thurs]

At six o'clock the next morning, the taxi driver opened the back door of his cab and helped Diane out of the back seat. His big, dark eyes locked on her huge chest, boobs swinging free underneath the high-necked cotton dress she was wearing. She smiled at him, a weary but polite look. He went around the car and got back in, drove up the street.

... to be continued ...

...from Chapter 17...

Taylor reached for the quirt and slid it slowly off Diane's shoulder, across her left tit. He stood to the side, asked Curtis if he could see all right. Curtis nodded. Taylor raised the quirt high and swung it toward her with all of his strength.

CHAPTER 18 [Week 7 Mon - Thurs]

At six o'clock the next morning, the taxi driver opened the door of his cab and helped Diane out of the back seat. His eyes locked on her huge chest, boobs swinging free underneath the high-necked cotton dress. She smiled at him, a weary but polite look. He went around the car and got back in, drove up the street.

Diane stood at the end of her driveway, dimly wondering what to do next. She had a sense that she should go inside and change, that she had to get to work though the idea wasn't fully formed. She hadn't slept in seventy-two hours and had spent the last ten of them tied to the pillar in the apartment while Taylor amused himself trying out all of the different items he'd been collecting over the years. On her.

Her body didn't want to move, it was going to hurt somewhere. She wasn't even sure she could make it to the front door without stumbling. She slowly turned her head and looked up the street. There were no cars coming, nobody on the sidewalks. That seemed funny to her but she didn't know why. A bird flew by and she turned her head to follow it, but she was too slow and it was gone. She felt dizzy and closed her eyes, felt dizzy and opened them back up.

She had a vague sense that it was Monday and that she'd not been at work on Friday. Could that be? No. She was there. That was when Vader reached across the desk and touched her titties. No. She'd fantasized that. He'd fired her. No, that wasn't right. She was afraid he would fire her. But he didn't. Did he?

A car drove by and she turned her head to follow it. Two men inside. Did she know them? Were they looking for her house? Had Monish sent them? Monish. Did Monish send the pills? Yes. Yes, the yellow pills were inside. The ones that would wake her up. Help her think clearly. She started walking to the house, moving slowly and carefully, tits swinging, rubbing against the cotton, nipples getting stiff now and pussy getting wet. This feels good. No. Focus. Her knees trembled, they'd made her cum last night, over and over, Curtis holding the vibrator while Taylor flicked a particularly nasty flagellum across her belly and mound. She pictured it in her head as she walked, even the mild stimulation of the fabric on her nipples was turnig her on. She saw the door in front of her, a hundred miles away. Her right hand slid down the side of her body, then across, then pushed hard between her legs. She moaned loudly as she came, standing on the porch, the door and the privacy of her home just inches away.

Anxiously, she turned and looked around. She barely caught the face of her neighbor across the street vanishing behind the curtains. Diane blushed deep red and went into the house. How much had she seen? Diane didn't care, pushed the door closed behind her and headed for the kitchen to look for the little yellow pills.

Diane's phone was ringing. She forced her eyes open, lifted her head and picked up the receiver. It was Monish. She looked at the clock. Ten in the morning. He told her that she had Monday night off and he had a surprise for her. Tuesday night, she'd be seeing Saabira again. Diane tried to act calm but couldn't control herself, blurted out "when? Where?" Monish laughed at her, said the driver would be there at six. Tomorrow.

She hung up the phone and looked around. She realized she'd fallen asleep at her desk. If Monish hadn't called, she might still be sleeping there. The pills she'd taken at six didn't help. She got up and went to the lounge, poured another cup of coffee, used it to wash down two more pills. She saw Vader walking down the hall. She thought it was Vader. A big, black man in a suit. She realized she was having trouble concentrating and closed her eyes again.

Vader tapped her on the shoulder. Diane turned her head slowly, opened her eyes a crack, saw his legs and shoes. She jerked up, crushing her tits against the edge of her desk. "Mr. Vader! Oh, I'm so sorry..."

"Maybe you should go home if you need to sleep," he said, then turned and walked back to his office.

All night Monday, Diane tossed and turned in her bed. She'd taken too many pills and she knew it. Now, she couldn't fall asleep. When she closed her eyes, she saw the pictures from the ceiling - Sarenna Lee's 44-H body, her blond hair, big, pretty eyes, slim hips. Then, Vanessa Del Rio - sporting only 42DDs but oozing sensuality.

The photo they'd shown her was Del Rio in a black leather corset, on her knees, leaning forward to show off her chest. But Diane had fixated on her mouth, wide open, tongue out, eyes half-closed, begging for a mouthful of cock. Or begging to lick a wet, juicy pussy like Diane's. She closed her eyes and imagined the Latina beauty looking up from between her legs, smiling at her, then lowering her head again to lick Diane's soaking wet cunt. She fingered herself, feeling the other woman's tongue, wanting to feel her long, black hair rubbing against the insides of her thighs.

Then, the image in her head shifted to Masozi. Standing naked and proud and commanding. Diane pictured herself crawling across the floor, offering herself to Masozi, begging to let her lick her delicious, damp cunt. She came shuddering, her finger rubbing fast little circles on her clit.

Diane lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. The orgasm didn't put her to sleep, it just aroused her more. She got up, careful to move slowly so her sore, sore titties didn't hurt any more than they had to, feeling them sliding side to side in the thin sleeping bra, looking down at them with something like admiration now. She walked down the hall to her office, launched her browser and surfed the free porn sites again. She keyed in "tit torture" and "nipple pain" and "breast restraint" and stayed up until six in the morning, aroused but unable to cum even though she tried. The knowledge that she was going to be kneeling at Masozi's feet again in less than twelve hours kept her distracted and hungry.

At six o'clock Tuesday evening, a driver pulled up at Diane's office and motioned for her to get in. She did, sitting in the front seat beside him. Diane was wearing a plain dark blue pantsuit again, her usual work outfit. Now that she'd had a chance to go shopping, her huge chest was a little better dressed up. Her tits still swung free - she was told by Monish, Curtis and Julie all that she would be severely punished if they ever caught her in a support bra - but at least the blouse and jacket over them was tailored.

Her breasts had gone down nearly a full cup size since the treatment, she hated what they were doing to her. She would show up at work one day with D cups, the next day with Gs, then slowly shrink back down to size. What were her coworkers thinking?

The driver pulled up at the apartment and told her to go up. Diane stared at him. "Are you sure?" she asked. He nodded and pointed at the door.

Diane wondered by Saabira wanted to meet her here. Did everyone in Monish's circle know about the apartment? She pushed the buzzer and the elevator came down. As she rode up, she let her imagination drift back to the night with Saabira, Katie and Masozi. They were all so intense. She didn't think she could survive another night with them, but she craved it anyway. Above all, she found her thoughts going back to Masozi.

By the time the elevator got to the top of the shaft, Diane was half-crazy with lust. The women touched her, used her, she serviced them, they abused her. The door opened and she stepped out.

renee and her master were standing in front of the pillar. renee was naked except for a short, white toga draped over her thin frame and tied at the waist. The man next to her was wearing a plain black suit and holding a bullwhip.

Diane's eyes widened, fear gripped her stomach. "Oh, God, no, please, no..." she stammered, turning to press the elevator button. renee calmly walked to her, silently touched her arm and escorted her across the room to her master.

"I was a bad girl this week," renee purred. "And Master needs to punish someone for it."

As renee stripped Diane and secured her face forward to the pillar, her Master uncoiled the eight-foot bullwhip and flicked it a few times, limbering up his wrist and arm. The crack of the whip was very, very loud in Diane's ears.

renee tied a black blindfold over Diane's eyes, then gently kissed each of Diane's huge nipples. "This time, I'm not sorry at all. This time I get to watch and enjoy," she whispered, then stepped back out of the way.

At lunch time Wednesday, Bailey "invited" Diane into the men's room where he had her take off her clothes and wait for him in the last stall. When he came in ten minutes later, he saw her and froze. The marks on Diane's tits, belly and thighs were very fresh and he stared at them for a long time before he fucked her against the wall.

Julie was waiting outside her building when Diane got off work.

"Let's go," she said, leading her down the street. Diane followed her, not knowing where they were going, not caring. They walked four blocks and down an alley, finally arriving at the back door of a tattoo parlor. Julie pushed Diane through the door and she found herself in a back room, the lights dim, the walls covered with posters and photos of women and men with various tattoos and piercing. There was everything from a simple golden ear stud to a woman's entire left size tattooed neck to heels, to a tongue with three piercings including a small ring that hung from the tip.

"Why are we here?" Diane asked, trying not to let her voice tremble. Julie laughed, pulled up her top, revealing her flabby, tattooed belly and tits. "I want to start you off right, honey." Diane stared at the skulls, eagles, and cocks tattooed on the woman's body. "I'm thinking I might have them copy my tattoos onto you, kind of a bonding thing, you know?" Diane stepped back, stunned. She couldn't mean it.

A big, bald man who must have weighed four hundred pounds lumbered through the door. "This her?" he grunted. Julie smiled. "Yeah. My newest. Belongs to Monish really, but I do most of the pimp work."

The man walked to Diane, unbuttoned her blouse while she stood docile and afraid. He pulled at the sleep bra and it tore, letting her tits spill out.

He turned to Julie. "She's not as big as you said. What's this triple D?"

"She's getting another fillup tonight. We pump her up to maybe G, maybe H." Julie smiled at Diane. "She gets off on it."

"You give her the show?" he asked with an evil grin.

"Oh yeah. They all get the show."

Diane shuddered. So she hadn't been the first. And then it hit her. They had this down to an art. The earbuds, the videos, the photos. How many had been on that table (or was it just a dresser?) before her?

"You know I can't work on 'em until she's fulled up," he said.

Julie nodded. "I just wanted to let you see what you'd be working with." She turned to Diane. "Let's go." Then, back to the man. "Unless you want a blow job or something."  He laughed. "No, I'm good. Maybe next time." He touched Diane's cheek. "Ain't that right, sugar?"

Julie got into a taxi with Diane and they headed back to her part of town. She had Diane change into a tight, low-cut black dress with no back and a pair of thigh high plastic boots and put her on the street.

The night was slow, the girls leaning against the buildings smoking and talking with each other. Diane stood a few doorways down. None of them would have anything to do with her. She watched them work the cars passing by, shaking their asses and boobs, spreading their legs hoping to catch someone's interest. She watched them lean into the cars, talk price, then either get in or move on. She heard one of the hookers yelling at a man. He'd pulled over and lowered his window, had been talking with her for less than a minute. She saw the woman turn her head and point at Diane and laugh. "Oh, yeah, she do that. You pay me and she do that fo' you." The man's head moved back, then Diane saw him hand the woman a bill. She walked to Diane and told her she was going to ass fuck the man in the car or she was going to make trouble for her with Julie. Diane nodded meekly and climbed into the man's car. He returned her in ten minutes. cum oozing down the inside of her leg.

Diane caught herself staring at one of the hookers, a black woman with huge, firm tits, a big round ass and a tiny waist. Her hair was done in a hooker Afro, her lips painted cherry red, her eyelids bright blue. She caught Diane staring and Diane quickly turned her head. The next time, she turned around and wiggled her bottom, laughing.

A car pulled up and a man leaned over from the driver's seat, motioned for Diane to come closer. She did, leaned down, her big tits swinging, cleavage exposed. "Looking for a date?" she asked. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the car, she recognized the driver. It was Rodrigo. She gasped. "Wait..." He jerked his head backward and sped away, the wheels squealing as he turned the corner.

She ran down the street to the hotel, crying and watching her life crumble around her. She'd tell Julie, she'd go home, get a good night's sleep, come up with a story Rodrigo would believe. Diane walked through the lobby and up the stairs, knocked on the door of room 6. Julie opened the door, saw Diane's face, the tears running down her cheeks.

"What happened, dear?" she asked without opening the door. Diane blurted out the story between sobs, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Julie looked at her. "That's sad, honey. But, what did you expect? Did you expect you could keep living like this and never get caught?" Diane stared at her. Whose side was she on? "I...I don't live like this...Monish is..." she stammered but couldn't get her thoughts straight. What did Julie mean? Her head was swimming.

Julie opened the door and took Diane's arm. She pulled her inside and slammed the door quickly. Diane immediately saw why. Joe was kneeling beside the bed, fastening the last few leather straps to the frame. There was already a bag of saline hanging from a rack next to the bed.

"Oh, no, no..." Diane tried to squirm but Julie had a strong grip on her. She led her to the mattress.

Diane lay in bed, wide awake and shivering, the solution dripping slowly into her body. Above her head, Jayne Mansfield's 40D body was smiling down at her. The black and white photo was crisp and clear, the woman's face advertised good clean fun while her body offered pure debauchery.

Rodrigo had seen her. On the street-corner. In that dress. That piece of fabric, really, it hardly qualified as a dress at all. Her huge tits swinging free, legs exposed to the crotch, surrounded by the other hookers, snapping gum and smoking cigarettes. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. The picture changed again.

"Maxi Mounds. 61MMM. Maxi Mounds. 61M..."

Her eyes watered. Rodrigo had known her for years. Maybe he wouldn't mention it. Maybe he would doubt what he saw. No, there was no mistaking. Would he blackmail her? Another cock to service? Another cock she could lick, tongue running along the shaft, from the soft head all the way to the hairy sack. She pictured Rodrigo in his chair at work, leaning back, the look of pleasure on his face while she...Stop it! She squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head.

"Kitten Natividad. 38 HH. Kitten Natividad. 38 HH..."

Diane stared into the Mexican's dark eyes, looked at her luscious lips, slowly down her neck to her titties, perky little dark nipple she longed to lick, touch with the tip of her tongue, while Kitten opened her legs so Diane could kiss her way down to...How could she explain this to Rodrigo? Her mind raced, bounded from thought to thought, unwanted, uncontrollable...the faces blended, bodies merged, but through it all, one face kept coming back. Eyes drilling into her soul. Masozi.

...chapter 19...

"Breakfast time," Julie said. Diane opened her eyes looked around. The pole with the drip bag was gone and the ceiling was just dirty white again. She felt the weight of her tits pulling at her chest - she was bigger than before. She looked down puzzled.

...continued if you want...

...from  Chapter 18 ...

Diane stared into the Mexican's dark eyes, looked at her luscious lips, slowly down her neck to her titties, perky little dark nipple she longed to lick, touch with the tip of her tongue, while Kitten opened her legs so Diane could kiss her way down to...How could she explain this to Rodrigo? Her mind raced, bounded from thought to thought, unwanted, uncontrollable...the faces blended, bodies merged, but through it all, one face kept coming back. Eyes drilling into her soul. Masozi.

CHAPTER 19 [Week 7 Thurs - Fri]

"Breakfast time," Julie said. Diane opened her eyes looked around. The pole with the drip bag was gone and the ceiling was just dirty white again. She felt the weight of her tits pulling at her chest - she was bigger than before, she could feel it.

"Sit up," Julie said. Diane wrapped her arms around her tits and turned her body, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed, bending forward at the waist.

"So, let's see the new udders," Julie said. Diane slowly lowered her arms. Julie took a tape measure and wrapped it around her, measuring her twice. "Just G cup again." She shook her head. "We thought that if we did it sooner, we could get you to take more." She shrugged. "Oh well, he was satisfied with your pictures." She threw the measuring tape on the table.

"You gonna eat?" She pointed to some pieces of sliced fruit and a half-eaten piece of toast on a plate. "Curtis left that for you. Go on." Diane reached to pick up the toast, had to move her arms out wide not to jostle her sore breasts. These things were a nuisance in more than one way.

Julie looked at her watch. "You want coffee? We have another ten minutes."

Diane looked at her confused. "I have to get to work." She took a bite of the toast. "What time is it?"

"It's nine in the morning. Here, have some coffee." Julie handed her the cup but Diane was shaking her head. "No, no, you have to get my clothes and get me..."

A knock on the door interrupted them. "That's probably Ricky." Diane stared at her, head swimming, not sure what to say. Julie got up and went to the door, slid the bolt and undid the chain. She opened it a crack, saw that it was Ricky and let him in.

"What the fuck," Ricky complained. He stepped behind Diane and sniffed. "Phew! Get her a shower, she stinks!" Diane got up and went into the bathroom, still holding her chest with her arms, and turned on the water in the shower. After several minutes, she heard Julie from the other room. "Don't get warm, honey! Jest get yo ass in there."

Diane took a quick shower, toweled herself off and walked back into the bedroom. The man threw her a bag and said "get dressed." She opened the bag and took out a pair of platform shoes, white plastic with wide ankle straps. Next was a white cotton top that barely covered her chest. She pulled it on, the tops and sides hanging out of the stretchy material, and looked down at it. In red letters, it said "Stop staring at my tits! (Touch Them!)" The top hung loose, the bottom of her tits showed if she moved at all. The next thing in the bag was a tube skirt - bright red. She pulled it up her legs and over her hips, it was skintight and only about eight inches wide. She adjusted it several different ways but it was no use. If she pulled it down in back to cover her ass, the front revealed the top of her slit. And if she pulled it up, the bottoms of her ass cheeks were exposed. She settled for the best compromise she could find. Ricky watched her fidget, finding the whole thing very amusing.

"All right, I think she's ready," Ricky said. "Julie! Hair and makeup, OK? Five minutes, just make her good enough, nothing special." He looked at her. "Her titties are all they're gonna be lookin' at anyway." Julie took Diane into the bathroom and silently brushed her hair, put on hooker eye-shadow and lipstick, and brought her back to Ricky.

"Let's go," he said. He threw a fifty dollar bill to Julie and said "I'll have her back by six."

Diane panicked, turned to Julie. "I HAVE to get to work, I can't just not show up! I have to..." Julie turned and walked out of the room and Diane stopped talking.

When Ricky pulled the car to the curb, Diane looked at him in terror. "What are you doing? Where are we going?" Ricky laughed. "We're here. This is where you work today."

She looked out the window of the car. They were downtown, just blocks from her office.

"I can't get out here. What do you want me to do? Where should I go?" Diane was completely puzzled. This wasn't a party or a red light street corner, this was just downtown. What could he do to her other than embarrass her?

"Are you fucking stupid or what?" he growled, staring at her.

"No, no, I just don't know what you want," she pleaded.

Ricky stared at her. "Fuck, maybe you really are just that naive." He stepped on the gas and drove another few blocks, pulled into a street lot and parked. The attendant walked over, handed Ricky a ticket, looked into the car. "You're not setting up shop, are you?" he asked. Ricky shook his head, "no, but maybe you can help her out a little. She's new." The man nodded. He looked at Diane. "Come on."

Still puzzled, Diane got out and walked around the car. "I'll be back at six, OK?" Ricky asked the man. He nodded. "Give us a second," Ricky said. The man nodded and walked back to his booth. Ricky looked at Diane. "I expect to see five hundred dollar or you will be in some very serious trouble." He paused. "With Monish. And the people you work with. That would be quite a loss, you must make pretty good money."

Ricky drove to the other end of the parking lot, then out into traffic and away. Diane looked at the booth, saw the man was making a phone call, started walking toward him. He hung up the phone.

"So, you're new in town?" Diane nodded, still confused but going along. "What's your specialty? Suck or fuck?" Diane looked at him. He didn't know her and he was already as crude as Julie or any of the others. What kind of life was this going to be? "Both," she said. "OK. Well, your best bet is the alley running behind Second Street."

Diane stared at him, she had no idea what he meant. Streetwalking in the alley? He smiled. "You really *are* new at this, aren't you?" She just stared. "Here's the drill. There's two ways you can go. You either work the pay lots and watch for guys going to their cars, you know, for lunch or to go home, and try to get some business that way. Or, you walk the alleys and keep an eye out for doors opening. A dishwasher taking a break, or a janitor taking out the trash. Sometimes, an exec out for a smoke, that kind of thing. You pick up maybe twenty dollars a pop, sometimes you get a tip." He stared at her. "If he likes titties, you might get a big tip." Diane's head was swimming, this was insane. Five hundred dollars at twenty dollars each was twenty five men. In eight hours.

A car pulled into the lot and the man stood up. "I gotta go to work. Come back here at lunch time if you're running behind, maybe I can make some calls for you."

Diane was afraid to walk down the alley, she'd always been warned about it and had always been cautious. She walked down the sidewalk alongside the parking lot, seeing the men's eyes staring at her enormous chest with "Touch Them!" prominently displayed. She passed several men and women, each of who stared at her in their own special way. A group of five college aged boys walked by, hooting and whistling, but declining to actually touch her. She felt the deep shame running through her like fire - she was beneath them all, too filthy a whore to even touch.

When she reached the end of the block, she turned and looked both ways. There was a truck parked at the mouth of the alley to the left, nothing to the right. She turned right and walked past the doors of the corner building.

The alley was dark even at this early hour. She saw steam coming from the wall vents, cardboard boxes and garbage stacked along the sides of the alley. The ground was dirty, she saw water pooled behind some of the buildings and a smelly trickle ran down the middle of the alley.

She clutched her small purse tight, stepped gingerly into the alley. She was surprised at her own hesitancy. After all she'd been through, she was afraid to be alone in an alley. She knew what it was. This was a new kind of depravity, even for her. This wasn't the apartment, or someone's basement, or even a cheap flea-bag hotel. This was an alleyway a few blocks away from where she worked. Anyone from work could see her, could use her, could spread the story around the building, ruining what was left of her life.

She walked past the first metal door, heard voices behind it laughing and arguing. There was a stairway going down into complete blackness, a garbage can at the top overflowing with discarded food. She shuddered and kept walking. A door at the far end of the alley swung open and she saw a man carrying a trash can over his shoulder. He spun and emptied it into a dumpster, banging it against the edge to make sure it was empty. He turned and looked at Diane. She froze, didn't know what to do. The man stared at her for a moment, then threw the can onto his shoulder and went back into the building, pulling the door closed after him with a loud clang.

Diane took another step forward and felt something soft underneath her foot. She looked down and saw that she's stepped on a rotten tomato. She shook her foot, the fruit plopped onto the ground behind her.

She looked up and down the alley, it was still empty and dark. She was desperate for sleep, looked at some of the piles of refuse and considered clearing off a spot and taking a nap. But, whenever she actually got close to the piles of boxes, the smell of rotting food changed her mind.

There was a loud metallic noise behind her and Diane turned around. A door was opening slowly, its bottom scraping against the concrete. A fat man in a white butcher's apron came out, a cardboard box in his hand. Diane's nose went up when she saw sticky red liquid dripping from the box onto his shoe.

"Heya, honey," he said with a grin. "Out a little early today, ain't cha?" He forced the door closed with his foot, walked past her, staring at her chest. "Touch 'em, huh?" He lifted the box high and threw it into the dumpster. He wiped his hands on his apron, eyes locked on her huge tits. "So, what? You too good to talk?"

Diane stammered, "no, no...just it's early and...I haven't had my coffee yet."

He laughed and walked around her, pulling the door open again. "Well, when you're ready, honey, I got the cream." He patted his crotch, laughed and went into the building, pulling the door closed with a thud.

Diane shook. This was insane. She was standing nearly naked in an alleyway, surrounded by trash and rotting food, unsure how she as going to come up with five hundred dollar before Ricky came to pick her up. Another doorway down the alley opened and two men stepped out, looked up and down the alley, spotted Diane. She saw the one man hit the other, pointed at her. "See?" They walked toward her, eyes leering, the man behind licking his lips and making "mmm!" sounds.

"How much?" the first man asked. Diane tried to sound secure and casual. "Fifty." The man shook his head. "Forty." She nodded. The man started unzipping his pants and pointed. "Up against the wall." Diane turned obediently, braced her hands against the wall and spread her legs. The man rolled the bottom of the skirt up around her waist and spit on his cock, rubbing it a few times before he shoved it into her. He fucked her fast and hard, came in less than five minutes. "Damn. Nice tight pussy, Darryl. Come and get it." He pulled his cock out with a plop! Diane heard a glob of cum splash against the ground, felt some splash onto her foot. Darryl, younger and stronger, dropped his pants around his knees and pushed up into her. His cock was longer and thicker and Diane moaned. This was more like it. She started to grind against him, but he came even quicker than his friend. He pulled out, zipped his pants up and stepped back. Diane rolled the skirt back down over her bottom and turned to them, her hand open and out. The first man pulled two twenty dollar bills out of his pocket and dropped them in her hand. She turned to Darryl. He looked at her. "Whut?" She snapped, "forty for him, forty for you." He laughed. "Stupid hooker. Forty for both of us." He sneered at her. "What? Think your cunt's made a' gold?" They high-fived each other and walked back down the alley laughing. Diane watched them as they walked away, felt a trickle of cum ooze out between her cunt lips, warm against the inside of her right thigh.

It was nearly an hour before the second john came. He had her suck and swallow, paid her ten dollars. He said she was hot and asked how long she would be there, she told him "until six." He said he'd make a few calls. In about half an hour, they started showing up. Twos and threes, fucking her on her hands and knees, with her back scaping against the wall, face down in the stairwell, blindfolded, handcuffed. The tit fuckers started showing up around two, spraying her tits, neck, chin and belly. Someone had taken her top off long ago and draped it over a nearby trash can. Before long, Diane was covered with warm, sticky semen. The men started playing with her, wiping the cum around on her face and tits, pushing it into her ears, mouth and nose, then taking their turn fucking her in the mouth or between her tits. Diane didn't get turned on until that began. The way they used her for nothing but a cum dump got to her. She was masturbating herself now as they were came at her. Some of them were able to stand perfectly still, her body moving up and down as she fingered herself, her tits fucking their stiff cocks.

When Ricky arrived at six that night, Diane was laying on a bed of open newspapers laid out on top of a pile of garbage, pinching and twisting her nipples while a skinny man in dirty clothes and long, filthy hair humped away at her. Her legs were wrapped around his back, the white shoes swinging back and forth as he pounded away at her. He came with a grunt, then got up and turned around, spotting Ricky. "You next?" Ricky saw his scruffy beard and missing teeth and shook his head. "Nice ass, you outta take a shot at it" he said, dropping a crumpled ten dollar bill on Diane's belly. Ricky looked down and saw Diane's asshole twitching, a glob of cum oozing out of it. Diane's eyes were closed and she was still hurting herself, pulling her nipple hard, grinding her hips and muttering, "...Traci Topps. 36J. Mine are bigger. Jenna Jameson. 32F. Mine are bigger..."

"She didn't make it. You owe me money." Ricky was leaning over the table, barking at Julie. "You owe me four hundred and twenty dollars. Don't fuck with me or I go to Monish."

"Fuck you, shithead. Monish don't owe you nothin'." She turned to look at Diane, passed out from exhaustion on the bed. "She tol' you what happened."

"She told me she was robbed. How many times a week do you think I hear that? You're in the business. You know."

"This one isn't like that," Julie sneered.

"Says you. Listen, just cough up the money and I'll get out of your hair. Otherwise, I go to Monish."

Julie was tired of hearing that. But he was right. Monish was not the kind you could reason with. Julie went into the other room and pulled a laptop computer out of a bottom drawer. She pressed the keys, waited, pressed more keys. "There. $500 transferred to your account. Happy?" Ricky pulled out his phone, tapped in some numbers and checked his account. "Happy."

Julie made put the computer back in the bottom drawer. Later, she'd decide whether or not to let Diane know she's paid Ricky from Diane's credit card. She locked the drawer and went back into the front room. With Ricky gone, she was alone with Diane. This one was a gold-mine, no doubt. On the one hand, Monish had her scared for her job, on the other hand, she loved the abuse. You couldn't beat that combination. They could sell her to the higher class clients who liked the ones that were "into it".

Julie looked at Diane, watched her sleep, wondered whether to introduce her to crack yet or not. No, not now, no reason to go that far right now. Her fear about losing her job was still a strong enough motivator. Julie went to the refrigerator and made a plate of leftovers, then took there of Monish's pills out of Diane's stash - no use wasting hers - and put them on the plate next to the fried chicken.

"Diane, honey?" She nudged the sleeping woman. "Diane, I need you on the streets in fifteen minutes, but I want you to have a bite first."

Julie worked Diane until five the next morning, then had one of the girls drive her home so she could change. Monish was pissed when he found out Ricky had made her skip a day of work without even calling in. If she lost her job, he'd lose his grip and they'd have to come up with something else to control her. He threatened Ricky, Ricky paid Julie the five hundred dollar back and they agreed she would show up at work on Friday morning. Julie pocketed the money. No need to credit Diane's account, what was the point?

Diane came home horny and unable to sleep. Twice during the night, she'd turned her attention from the streets to the girls. There was a woman who reminded her of Masozi. She was a dark skinned woman who wore leather bracelets. That was enough to turn Diane on. She saw Masozi standing there in place of the whore with the skintight leggings and bikini top. When things were slow, she approached the woman and started talking. She pretended she was interested in horror movies because Keera - the other woman - was. They smoked some weed together. Diane was forward, touched Keera's arm, then leaned in for a kiss and soon she had her in one of the open rooms, Diane's face buried between her legs, Keera leaning lazy against the wall, smiling and enjoying the white woman's tongue. She came quietly then just said to Diane, "that's enough for now, honey." She rolled down her skirt. She leaned closer and pushed Diane's upper lip back with her finger. With her other hand, she pulled a strand of pubic hair from between Diane's teeth. She pressed it into Diane's palm. "A little souvenir." She smiled. "I might want you to lick my bush again later, so stay close, OK? You know you want to, don't you?" Diane felt her words as a stab of humiliation and nearly came. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

The second woman that night was shorter and plump but something about her eyes pulled Diane in. This time, though, the woman was wild in bed. She yanked Diane's hair, ground her hips against her face, told her when to speed up and when to slow down. She came bucking and grinding, then left Diane exhausted on the bed and went downstairs to tell her girlfriends that Julie's new white meat was a pussy-eater. When Diane came down the stairs, they all stared, taunting her and flashing their tits and asses at her. Keera came to her rescue, waving them off. "This one's mine," she said, wrapping her arm around Diane. "Her nice pink tongue belongs right...here," she said, running a finger between her legs underneath her skirt. She presented it to Diane who licked it clean. The two of them working the south end of the block for the rest of the night.

Diane couldn't fall asleep, wouldn't if she could. She was afraid she would miss the alarm clock if she did, so she took three more pills and turned on the television set. It didn't help. The faces of the laughing whores kept whirling around in her tired brain.

At around seven, she went into the kitchen for a snack and noticed there was a message on her answering machine. She pressed the Play button and heard Lars' voice. He had tracked down Saabira and arranged for them to meet at six tonight. He told her to make sure she showed up. Saabira was very secretive about her life and had been difficult to track down. She made it clear she was only doing this as a favor to Lars. Diane listened to the message again, thrilled and aroused. She pictured Masozi, naked and glistening, holding a whip in her hand and wondering where on her body it would land first.

She took a taxi to work and was in line to buy coffee for herself and Rodrigo when she froze. Rodrigo. He had seen her on the street-corner the other night. She bought the coffees anyway, considering the best way to talk to him. Casual, try and ignore it, maybe he would think he was wrong? No. It had been perfectly clear that they recognized each other. Indignant? It was none of his business after all what she did after work. Then, she realized she was actually in a better position than she thought. What was *he* doing on the streets picking up hookers? Rodrigo was a married man with two kids. She could push back if he tried to say anything to her. As the elevator door closed, she shook her head. She knew better. Men could do that. Women couldn't. She'd still be the whore in the picture.

Rodrigo accepted the coffee from her politely and made a joke about the weather but didn't look her in the eye. She was fine with that and settled into her cubicle. She stared at her computer, trying to focus. She was running on so little sleep the number of hours didn't matter anymore. She had slept a total of nine hours in the last 5 days. She was living on speed.

At the staff meeting at ten o'clock, she incorrectly referred to one of her clients as a Mexican company (they were based in Spain), missed a page of numbers in an estimate she was reading, and called a coworker by the wrong last name. Vader looked at her politely, noticed her chest had grown again, and cut the meeting short. He called her into his office and told her to take the rest of the day off. They would need to talk on Monday but he didn't think she could hold an intelligent conversation right now.

Diane tried to protest but he raised his hand. "Listen, Diane, this is getting worse and worse. Take a day off, maybe a few days off. I noticed you took yesterday off without calling." She hung her head. "Whatever is going on, you need to get through it fast so you can start concentrating on your job again. Go home."

Diane walked out of his office slowly but realized there was only one thought in her head. She would see Masozi tonight. She nearly stumbled walking to the elevator, her head filled with images of the whores from last night, Vader's face - now more angry than disappointed, Rodrigo in the car, and, behind them all, Masozi, the goddess, waiting, watching, enjoying her struggles.

"Going home early, Bates?" Diane looked at Bailey, his big evil smile told her she might not go straight home. "Come on. Let's do it," she said. "Oh, no, I'm not in the mood, honey. But I was wondering, does Monish knows you have the day off?" Diane stared at him. "There's what, maybe six hours between now and quitting time? I know he doesn't like to miss an opportunity to make a few dollars with one of his favorite products." Bailey took her by the wrist and led her to the elevator. Once they were inside with the door closed, he took out his cell phone. "Let's give him a ring, shall we?" Diane squirmed. She needed the time, needed to show up at Saabira's place refreshed and ready. "Bailey, no, listen, Bailey..." but it was too late. He was talking to Monish who told him to put her in a taxi and send her back to Julie.

...chapter 20...

Julie was waiting when Diane got out of the taxi. "Hi, honey. It's nice to have you back so soon." She walked back into the hotel room motioned for Diane to follow. "I have a few phone calls to make, I'll be right with you." She walked into the kitchen, looked around for her phone book. "By the way, Curtis and I have been talking. We think it's time to go ahead and make your tits permanent. You market tested well." Diane froze. What was she talking about? Breast surgery? Julie pulled open a drawer. "Where the hell is that book? It won't be for a few weeks, we have to talk Monish into it, but we're pretty sure. Ah! Here it is." She reached for the phone. Diane interrupted her. "Listen, Julie. I already have something scheduled tonight. I need to be gone by five."

...to be continued if you want...

...from Chapter 19...

"Going home early, Bates?" Diane looked at Bailey, his big evil smile told her she might not go straight home. "Come on. Let's do it," she said. "Oh, no, I'm not in the mood, honey. But I was wondering, does Monish knows you have the day off?" Diane stared at him. "There's what, maybe six hours between now and quitting time? I know he doesn't like to miss an opportunity to make a few dollars with one of his favorite products." Bailey took her by the wrist and led her to the elevator. Once they were inside with the door closed, he took out his cell phone. "Let's give him a ring, shall we?" Diane squirmed. She needed the time, needed to show up at Saabira's place refreshed and ready. "Bailey, no, listen, Bailey..." but it was too late. He was talking to Monish who told him to put her in a taxi and send her back to Julie.

CHAPTER 20 [Week 7 Fri -

Julie was waiting when Diane got out of the taxi. "Hi, honey. It's nice to have you back so soon." She walked back into the hotel room motioned for Diane to follow. "I have a few phone calls to make, I'll be right with you." She walked into the kitchen, looked around for her phone book. "By the way, Curtis and I have been talking. We think it's time to go ahead and make your tits permanent. You market tested well." Diane froze. What was she talking about? Breast surgery? Implants?

"Where the hell is that book?" Julie pulled open a drawer. "It won't be for a few weeks, we have to talk Monish into it, but we're pretty sure he'll for it. Ah! Here it is." She reached for the phone. Diane interrupted her, her voice anxious. "Listen, Julie. I already have something scheduled tonight. I need to be gone by five."

Julie gave her a quizzical look. "Monish didn't mention anything to me." Diane shook her head. "No, it's something of mine. With some...friends." Julie eyed her. "You mean another friend like Carol? I thought Carol was your only real friend." Diane didn't answer for a minute, the mention of Carol still stung. Julie didn't wait for her to answer. "You're picking up some cash on the side, aren't you?"

Diane shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that! I don't sell myself. That's for that asshole Monish. No, this is just...something..."

Julie looked at her for a long time. She couldn't quite figure this out. Was she involved somewhere else Monish didn't know about? Did it matter? She thought about that. Did it matter?

"Listen, you've got about six or seven hours before your...date. And then, there's the night. I figure if I keep you here and call up some of the titty freaks, I could pull down two thousand dollars." She smiled at Diane. "You wanna buy yourself a night off?"

Diane looked at the piggish little woman and felt herself getting angry. Paying this little monster for a night off? And two thousand dollars? Were they really paying anything like that kind of money just to fuck and hurt her tits?

Julie looked at her watch. "Make up your mind, we're losing money here." Slowly, Diane nodded. "OK. You can go ahead and go home, honey. I already have the numbers for your credit card. I'll save you the phone call."

Diane stood on the front porch and stared at the door, frozen. She'd been anticipating this moment for days, weeks really. And now it was here. She looked down at her body, wondered how Masozi would react to her huge chest, the fact that she'd been modified so drastically. Diane also realized she'd dropped more weight since they saw her last time, she was now about ten pounds below her ideal weight, a full thirty pounds lighter than when Monish started all of this. Would this please her or not?

She raised a trembling hand and pressed the button hard. She felt dizzy. She couldn't tell if it was from lack of sleep or the yellow pills or just the excitement of finally being here. By the time the short red-headed woman opened the door, Diane was almost unable to walk in.

"Come in. The mistress is waiting for you," the woman said. Diane stared at her, jealous already. Had she spent the entire day there? Maybe she lived there? Maybe she and Masozi had a special relationship. Diane felt an unreasonable hatred growing in her. She didn't even know the girl and she wanted to do something terrible to her to get her out of the way. Remove any obstacle between herself and the woman she wanted to serve. As she followed the woman through the house, she watched the way she moved. She balanced expertly on the high heeled shoes, she'd been trained well. Her calves and thighs were strong but not muscular. Diane couldn't see her ass - the short skirt was flared - but she saw that the girl had no belly and firm, B-cup tits. Diane looked at herself again, her huge breasts swinging freely in their totally useless sleeping bra and felt another rush of anger. What if big tits were a turn off to Masozi? She couldn't compete with this little slut.

She tried to clear her head. Why was one woman so present in her mind? Why was she so fixated? Masozi hadn't paid any special attention to her last time, in fact, she should be thinking of Katie if anyone - the one who had taken her second and nearly driven her crazy with her tongue and fingers. But she couldn't get the picture out of her mind. The dark chocolate skin, the contrast of the leather bands, the woman's complete and utter control of the situation. Diane wanted to serve her, needed to serve her. It would make her surrender complete, there would be nothing left of her. No, she told herself, no. This is insane. I have my job, I have my life. Monish has dragged me so far down that I am now *looking* for ways to destroy myself. It isn't right.

The girl brought her around a corner and led her into a tiny eight foot square space. She pointed at the single object in the room. It was a gynecologist's chair. Diane stared at it and began daydreaming immediately. She pictured herself bound to the chair, Saabira and Masozi taking turns using various devices on her, poking, prodding, inspecting. She shivered and felt her nipples stiffen. The woman cleared her throat and Diane turned around. She'd lifted her skirt and exposed her cleanly shaven crotch. Diane immediately dropped to her knees and started licking the woman. She pushed her tongue deep between her cunt lips, sucked her sweet clit, pushed a finger deep inside her body. The woman came quickly, then smoothed her skirt back in place. "Adequate," she pronounced. "You'll do better next time, I'm sure." Diane nodded. "Yes, ma'am." The woman chuckled. "You were under no obligation to do that, by the way. I have no rights to use you." Diane felt a wave of shame wash over her - she'd serviced the woman without even being asked. She was now a servant even to the servants.

"Make yourself ready," the woman said, then left, pulling the door closed behind her. Diane stared at the chair, touched the cushion. What was this material? Plastic? Leather? Some kind of synthetic, she was sure. Diane looked around the room, there was nothing but the door, the chair, and a lamp overhead. It was on a swivel and could be moved around the room easily. She pictured them lowering it, shining it brightly between her legs as they tormented her. She wanted to be prepared for the women when they came, so she took off her clothes and climbed into the chair. A good obedient submissive, she hoped. She raised her feet and buckled the leather straps across both ankles, then settled back into a reclining position, her cunt wide open and facing the door. She rested her arms at her sides, hands dangling free, head between two cushions that held her snug.

Diane lay like that for a long time, her anticipation building. She thought about the last time she was there and what they had done to her, felt her clit stiffen and her cunt get wet. She wanted to touch herself but knew better. If they walked in on her playing with herself, it would go badly.

After a long time, the door inched open. Katie saw her first and gasped, "oh my God! Get up..." but it was too late. Saabira and Masozi were right behind her. Katie's nervous face frightened Diane - what had she done wrong? Saabira shook her head and made a 'tsk, tsk' sound as she walked around behind Diane. When Masozi walked into the room, she locked eyes with Diane and just stared at her. Katie turned to Masozi. "She was trying to..." Masozi turned her eyes toward Katie and she stopped talking. She looked back at Diane.

"You have violated this seat," Masozi said in a calm, measured tone that made Diane's blood run cold. "You will pay for this insolence," Saabira added. Diane realized that the servant girl had set her up.

Diane tried to sit up but her oversized breasts made movement difficult. Her awkward position didn't help either, her legs spread and raised higher than her head. By the time she was able to unbuckle herself, Masozi had left and was halfway down the hall. Diane ran around in front of her, threw herself on the floor, body completely prone, cheek pressed against the cool tile. Her huge breasts kept her from laying completely flat, but she tried her best. For her.

"Please, mistress, forgive me, I didn't know," Diane begged. Masozi stopped, stood still in front of her. Diane inched forward, tentatively kissed the instep of her right foot. "Oh, please, let me serve you as you wish..." she sobbed, fondling Masozi's foot, gently stroking it with her fingertips as she kissed and tasted her skin. "However you wish...for as long as you wish..."

The other two women walked toward them, stopped and stood watching. They let Diane beg a long time, kissing and licking each foot, not daring to go above Masozi's ankles, not looking upward at any of them, her attention completely absorbed by her devout worship of her goddess's feet. She tenderly serviced every centimeter of skin with her lips and tongue - the soles and balls of her feet, her toes and the tender area between them, the slightly calloused flesh of her heels. Masozi let it go on for an infinity and Diane was completely lost in her veneration of the dark skin.

"Come," Masozi said and starting walking down the hallway again. Diane rose to her feet and folded her arms across her chest again to support her huge tits.

The three women talked to Diane for a long time. They were all comfortably seated on sofas and armchairs in one of the larger rooms in Saabira's home. They asked her about her new breasts, about her jitters, about her weight loss and she told them about Monish, the blackmail, and the speed she'd been taking. Diane's eyes were focused on Masozi's crotch the entire time. She was wearing a single lightweight golden chain that went around her waist and vanished between her legs. The front was pulled into a Y by the single strand that disappeared between her cunt lips and formed another Y as it came up between the cheeks of her ass. Aside from that, she was completely naked. Diane had tried to look away but every time Masozi shifted her weight in the slightest, her eyes returned to that chain. She wanted to run her tongue along it, trace it inch by inch as it touched the woman she longed to call her mistress.

Katie explained to her that they had considered buying her from Monish until they saw what she had done to her body. The weight loss was not attractive on her and neither were the huge titties on her chest. Diane immediately began explaining that these were not her choices, that she would do anything if they would reconsider... but Katie stopped her.

"Are you saying you would do anything we ask?"

"Yes, mistress, without hesitation," Diane said in the most submissive voice she could muster. Katie looked at Saabira who was smiling.

"We are very demanding," Katie said in a gentle voice that was laced with threats.

"Yes, mistress."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I understand and submit to you willingly." Diane felt her cunt getting wet, picturing Saabira standing above her with a whip in her hand, Katie between her legs with her mouth open and her tongue out.

"We are considering turning you into an Internet whore," Katie said. She stood up and walked toward Diane. "A commodity." She stood behind Diane and stroked her hair. "A product."

"As you wish, mistress," Diane purred.

"Video productions. Video on demand. Hundreds of thousands of men watching you," Katie let her hand drift down the side of Diane's face, over her shoulder, resting gently on her right breasts. Diane was breathing heavily, saw her nipples stiffen and grow to a full inch long. "What if someone recognizes me?"

Katie moved her hand along Diane's flesh, slid the tips of two fingers around her nipple. It grew longer still. "That is not our problem, is it?" She pushed her fingers together lightly and Diane moaned. "No, mistress, it is not."

"You will be horribly humiliated and abused. Simply for our amusement. And our profit," she cupped Diane's breast and lifted it gently upward.

"Yes, mistress," Diane moaned.

"You will never see your family or friends again."

Diane nodded.

"You will be completely obliterated. You will become whatever we want you to be. You know that, don't you?"

Diane shuddered and felt her clit stiffening and pushing out between her cunt lips. She slid her hand between her legs and touched it. "Yes, mistress." Then, "please, mistress."

Katie let her breast down gently, resting it against her chest. She returned to her seat and Saabira started talking. She explained to Diane that she had an offer for Diane to consider. Diane could move in with them and service them if she agreed to relinquish absolute control of every aspect of her life to them. Diane was stunned. She had never considered this more than a game. Not the same kind of game she was playing with Lars, but certainly in Monish's world, this was a game.

Saabira was not being realistic. Diane had a job. A life. Not much of a life, but a life. And there was Monish to deal with. He certainly would not go along with anything like this.

"Everything can be arranged," Saabira said, smiling. "You would stay with us twenty-four hours a day. Everything will be provided for you. You will have no more problems with Monish, with Curtis and Julie, with your Mr. Vader, with any of this. No more pumping you up with saline for their freak show, no more exhaustion and speed pills."

Diane's head was swimming. Did they know everything about her? She imagined what it would be like. Free of Monish, free of the pills, able to sleep at night again without wondering who was going to come into her house or where the next driver would take her.

She looked at Saabira. The woman was all business. Patient and all business. Diane knew what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. She looked at Masozi. Her face was frozen, unreadable. Their eyes met and locked for a long time. Then, Masozi let her legs part ever so slightly and Diane was irrevocably theirs.

Diane spent all day Saturday naked and working outside. They'd let her sleep after their conversation but woke her up at six in the morning along with the two other girls who lived there. Diane recognized one of them as the one who had answered the door last night. As the three of them walked to the dining room for breakfast, she laughed at Diane and reminded her about yesterday. It had amused her how quickly and easily Diane had dropped to her knees and licked her cunt. She bragged that she would never have gone down without a direct order. Diane turned red but knew it was true, she had internalized her submission so deeply that she had just assumed she was available to the woman. To anyone who she found in this house. She still felt it, even as the woman bragged and insulted her. She knew she would do it again if the woman so much as hinted at it.

They ate breakfast then Katie gave them their assignments - they were to spend all morning until lunchtime weeding the vegetable garden and picking up after the dogs.

After lunch, the two other women were assigned household tasks but Diane was brought into one of the out buildings. It was a small video studio. They explained to her that she was going to prove her complete submission to them by putting on the most humiliating demonstration their audience could request.  Diane showered and dressed herself in a short and simple white dress that showed off her tits and flared out from the waist, emphasizing her figure. She put on simple, understated makeup and a necklace and bracelets.

Katie posed Diane on a bench in the studio, then brought their realtime website online. There were nine members in the lobby, not bad for mid-day Saturday.

Katie had Diane introduce herself to them, then stand up and unzip the dress. She let it slide down over her hips and drop to the floor. The members were appreciative and Diane smiled. Katie asked them for suggestions for this evening's show. Diane looked at the clock. It was one in the afternoon. What time was the show? she wondered.

Suggestions about spanking, flogging, or masturbating her were rejected as too mundane. Two of them wanted to see her tits bound and tormented, but Katie pushed them. "Diane is not a pain slut - per se - she is a humiliation slut. The six o'clock show is a humiliation show. What should Diane do?"

After several suggestions were made and discussed, the group agreed that at six o'clock this evening, they would watch Diane relieve herself into a box of kitty litter. She looked at Katie, shocked and already at the brink of complete humiliation. Katie smiled and went back to her discussions with the members.

For the rest of the afternoon, Diane appeared on the website every thirty minutes to drink another glass of lukewarm water and explain to the slowly gathering crowd what was going to happen. She would crouch down and show them the empty litter box - which she promised to fill at four - as well as the growing line of empty glasses she'd already drank and the big bag of kitty litter against the wall.

Between announcements, she was free to do whatever she chose. But, she chose to curl up and lay in bed, wondering if she was doing the right thing, wondering what this new life might be like, and dreading the actual act.

As much as she'd been through, this seemed like turning another corner. This was being broadcast live, real time, across the world to anyone who wanted to click on the channel. And she knew that the word was being spread. Katie explained that their members were worldwide and well connected. Freaks from around the globe who enjoyed this kind of thing - for whatever reason - would be online at four and again at six to watch her humiliate herself in front of them. She pictured herself from their point of view - the big-titted freak squatting above a blue plastic box filled with artificial sand, pissing the way a domesticated household animal might. She thought about calling it off, about leaving, about going back to Monish.

Monish. He wasn't going to go along with this anyway. She was wrong, it was a terrible game. He wouldn't give her up.

And what if someone was online who recognized her? Katie was making no allowances at all for her privacy, her camera shots were full frontal, head to toe. Anyone who even remotely knew her would recognize her. She curled up and cried, waiting for the next half-hour to pass.

At four o'clock, she went online and poured three inches of the litter into the box. It was devastating. She saw that there were over two hundred people now registered for the show at six. More than half of them were watching her as she ran her fingers along the top of the litter, smoothing it, evening it out across the top of the box as she'd been instructed by Katie. Katie told her it would help attract a bigger audience if they believed she was fastidious enough to care about the surface of the litter being level. She was right. The counter at four-thirty was up to three hundred and fifty.

When six o'clock came around, Diane was trembling. It was hard to hold all of that the water inside her, she was sore and bloated. But Katie had given her very strict instructions to stand beside the box with her feet together until she was told. At ten minutes after six, the woman who had answered the door stepped into the room. Diane saw her and shuddered, further humiliated by the woman whose cunt she'd licked without even being asked. She walked around Diane, looking at her cruelly. Diane lowered her eyes. Diane heard Katie's voice over the speaker introduce the other woman as Ingrid. Diane recognized the gambit - a cruel sounding German name. It was perfect for the crowd. There were a silent hush from the speakers.

Ingrid stood to Diane's left and pushed a hand against her breast, then let go. Both of them swung side to side, huge fleshy pendulums that swung freely while Diane struggled to keep herself from dribbling piss down her legs. Ingrid slid her hand down Diane's back in an exaggerated motion, then pushed a finger between her ass cheeks. Diane began sobbing and moaned, "no, no, please..." Ingrid poised her finger at Diane's ass hole and waited. Diane knew she wouldn't be able to hold the flood in if Ingrid pushed her finger inside her and kept pleading, "no, Ingrid, please, no, no..."

Voices flooded over the speakers now, encouraging her, stopping her, negotiating, advising. Diane couldn't tell them apart, couldn't tell what they were saying, didn't care. All of the concentration was on keeping the water that was swelling her bladder from escaping in one huge wave.

Ingrid removed her hand and stepped a few feet away from Diane. "Go ahead. Squat over the litter box." Diane slowly stepped behind the box then opened her legs and moved forward. "Squat," Ingrid told her. Diane couldn't. It was too much. She felt the hot tears running down her cheeks. "You had better not piss until you squat," Ingrid threatened her. Diane understood, Katie had told her the same thing earlier. Pissing from a standing position was not nearly as devastating as having to squat first. They all knew that.

Diane lifted her eyes and looked at the monitor. The screen said that there were eleven hundred people watching her. She sobbed harder, arms holding her breasts from shaking.

"Squat," Ingrid repeated and Diane began to bend her knees. When she was halfway to the floor, Ingrid told her to stop. Diane froze. "Arms above your head, face toward the camera." Diane tried but couldn't move. Her body was paralyzed with shame and embarrassment. Ingrid stepped closer and raised her chin so she was staring into the camera. Then, she raised Diane's arms above her head. With the back of her free hand, she wiped the tears from Diane's cheeks, wiped her hands on Diane's hair.

"All right, then," Ingrid said. "Are you ready to put on a show for us?"

Diane sobbed and nodded her head.

"That will be enough," Katie said from somewhere behind her. "Diane? Go down the hall and use the bathroom like a good girl. Ingrid, come over here and give our live audience a treat." Diane stared at Ingrid, watched as the girl walked toward her, noticed she was biting her lip, a hand pressed against her belly. She stared at Diane with hatred in her eyes and whispered, "they've had me doing this for months. It was supposed to be your turn. I'll get you for this, you bitch..."

Diane backed slowly out of the doorway, watching Ingrid as she slowly walked toward the small plastic box.

CHAPTER 21

After Katie rescued her from the litter box on Saturday night, she brought Diane back to the main room of the house. Saabira and Masozi were there, both seated in big armchairs, both naked, both sipping white wine.

...to be continued...

...from chapter 20...

Diane backed slowly out of the doorway, watching Ingrid as she slowly walked toward the small plastic box.

CHAPTER 21

After Katie rescued her from the litter box on Saturday night, she brought Diane back to the main room of the house. Saabira and Masozi were there, both seated in big armchairs, both naked, both sipping white wine.

Masozi stood up and undid the clasp of a small gold chain that ran around her waist and down between her legs. She slowly tugged it free and handed it to Katie then sat back down, looking almost bored. Katie wrapped it around Diane's waist and fastened it again. She felt her heart racing - she was wearing something that had touched Masozi's body! Diane pulled the chain down between her ass cheeks, then brought it up between her lips, snapping the end to the waist chain. Katie knelt in front of her and found the small golden band that hung just six inches or so below her waist. She opened it, then snapped it around Diane's clitoris and clicked it shut. Diane swooned. This very piece of metal had just been wrapped around Masozi's clit. She nearly came just thinking it. Katie made a few adjustments, tightening here, loosening there. When she was satisfied with its placement, Katie had Diane walk around the room. It was exquisite agony. Every move she made tugged the chain one way or the other, her clit with it. Even when she stood still, the gentle pressure of her heartbeat sending blood through her was amplified by the little band of metal. She shivered, all of her attention focused on that one tiny spot.

Diane spent the rest of Saturday night and well into Sunday morning doing housework. She felt an odd sense of peace, moving naked through the rooms like a dutiful housewife. She washed and dried the dishes, did laundry, swept, vacuumed, scrubbed the floors and swabbed the toilets - all the menial tasks of a servant girl, all with the gold chain tugging at her clitoris. Several times, she had to stop and stand motionless to prevent herself from cumming. Over and over, she came anyway, moaning and panting, her hand between her legs, rubbing her clit gently, careful not to let the metal band pinch her flesh.

Every two hours, Saabira had her stop what she was doing and took her into one of the playrooms. There - on a live Internet feed - she played a game with her for an invisible audience. Saabira had Diane stand with her arms behind her neck, the front of her legs pressed against the edge of the table. She attached rough clamps to Diane's nipples then strings to the clamps. The strings were tied to lead weights that rested about a foot from the edge of the table.

After a few minutes of Internet chatter, Saabira would tell Diane to begin walking slowly backward. Diane's eyes stared at the weights as she pulled them closer to the edge of the table, knowing they would fall soon, knowing they would yank hard on the nipple clamps.

Diane moved backward slowly, but then froze in place, paralyzed in anticipation of the upcoming pain. Saabira was patient, waited quietly, let Diane work toward her own torment at her own pace. The fans watching the Internet feed would make their comments, taunting Diane, encouraging Katie.

When the weights finally plunged off the edge of the table, Diane would shriek, then stand as still as she could while they swung back and forth until eventually they stopped, hanging directly down in front of her, stretching her nipples. By then, her body would be shaking from the pain and the tears running down her face. Saabira would have her repeat this three or four times before letting her put on her little apron and get back to the housework.

Sunday evening around six, Katie invited Diane to have dinner with them. Diane was allowed to dress in a casual pullover dress and panties. Ingrid served the meal, staring angrily at Diane the whole time but helpless to do anything.

The three women talked to Diane about the possibility of her moving in with them. Diane listened again to their conditions, again she agreed.

At eight, they sent her home alone in one of their cars.

[Week 8 - Monday night]

Monday night, Monish had Diane picked up at work and brought to Julie. Julie had three "tit freak" customers and Diane spent from six until eleven being driven from hotel to hotel to service them. They only wanted to cum between her titties then send her away.

By the time she was done with the last one, she was hot and horny and desperate to cum. The driver dropped her at Julie's hotel, but Diane didn't go in. She walked to the corner and looked around until she found Keera. Keera was standing with two other women, smoking and laughing. She saw Diane coming toward her and laughed. "This bitch the pussy licker I wuz tellin' y'all about," she said to her friends. Diane looked at her, eyes locked on the woman's thighs. Strong, muscled thighs stretching out from underneath the tight red skirt. Keera saw where Diane was looking and parted her legs slightly, ran her hand along the inside of her right thigh. Diane felt her cunt dripping wet and slowly looked upward and into Keera's face. Keera stared at her. "You'll have to pay fo' it this time," she sneered. Diane lowered her eyes and nodded.

The four women walked into the lobby of the hotel. The man behind the glass looked up, puzzled. Where were their tricks? he wondered. "Pay the man, honey," Keera said to Diane. Diane opened her small purse and handed the man two twenty-dollar bills. He just slid them into the register and pointed toward the stairwell. "Room 6," he said mechanically.

When they got to the room, Keera flopped down on the bed, her legs falling wide open and resting lazy on the mattress. Diane stared at her curly, black bush and took a deep breath.

"Fifty dollars," Keera said, holding out her hand. Diane didn't hesitate. She pulled five ten-dollar bills out of her purse and set them on the dresser. Keera looked at the other two hookers and laughed. "See?" She turned to Diane. "Another fifty if you want me naked," she laughed. Diane nodded and produced more bills. The other women looked at each other. "Damn!"

Keera pulled off her tiny bits of clothing and threw them on the floor. Diane climbed onto the bed and started kissing the inside of Keera's knees. She licked the sweaty flesh, relishing the taste of a girl who's been worked hard all night. She sniffed the skin and could smell the men whose bodies Keera's legs had been wrapped around. She worked her way upward slowly, hearing Keera's moans, aroused by the smell, the taste, the sounds. She buried her face in Keera's bush and pushed her tongue between the thick lips, tasting cum and pussy and sweat, licking hard and fast until Keera came. All the time, she was grinding her hips, feeling the gold clamp pulling at her clitoris, cumming over and over without even having to touch herself. When she came again, she heard Keera laugh and looked up. "Not bad." Then, she nodded toward the other two women. "You got mo' work to do. Pay 'em and get on wit' it." Diane eagerly reached for her purse.

Julie turned and looked when Diane walked into the room. "Where have you been?"

Diane lied, "The driver just dropped me off. They wanted me longer than they said." She walked into the kitchen, turned on the tap and filled a glass with water. When she turned around, she saw Julie right behind her. She slapped her across the face hard, back and forth twice. Diane dropped the water glass and it broke on the floor. She looked and saw Keera and one of the others standing in the doorway. "Don't fucking lie to me again," Julie growled at her. She grabbed Diane by the hair and dragged her into the other room. She pushed Diane to her knees. "Lick her asshole," she barked.

Keera turned around and slid her skirt up over her ass, pulled her cheeks apart and pushed herself toward Diane's face. Diane gagged and tried to pull her head back but Julie pushed her forward, burying her nose in Keera's crack. Diane started licking, her mind trying hard to be somewhere else. When Julie was satisfied she'd been taught a lesson, she told Keera to leave. "Don't ever do anything like that again," Julie told Diane. "Your body doesn't belong to you. Not anymore."

"So, what we got here?" Diane heard a voice from the door. She looked up and saw a big, beefy Latino man standing there. Julie walked to him and gave him a kiss. "A new one. One of Monish's. A real freak." She slid her hand into his pants and he fondled her titties. But his eyes kept looking at Diane. "She any good?"

Julie pulled back, sneered at him. "Why don't you fuck her and see?" The man laughed and unzipped his pants. "I think I will."

Ricky spent the next hour alternately fucking Diane's pussy and ass, finally unloading deep inside her backside. Julie stood against the wall, arms folded, glaring at Diane. Diane felt the hate and anger but knew better than to say anything. "Damn, Julie, you got a good one here," he laughed, pushing her off of him and onto the floor. "Yeah, a real winner," Julie growled.

All the rest of the week, Monish picked Diane up at six, passed her to Julie for the night, and brought her home at four in the morning. Ricky fucked her three more times, Julie looked more angry each time. On Friday, it came to a head. Ricky was fucking Diane when Monish came into the room. He argued with Julie that she was stealing from him - letting Ricky fuck Diane for free while she could be out working the street. He hit Julie, knocking her across the room and into one of the walls. Ricky swung at Monish, but Monish was faster and ducked out of the way. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and slashed Ricky across the arm. Ricky howled and threw a lamp at Monish, knocking him to the floor. He jumped on him but it was too late, Monish pushed the knife deep into his belly. Ricky's eyes widened and he rolled onto the floor. Julie kicked Monish and ran to the phone, dialed 911.

"Get her out of here," Monish barked at Julie. Julie yanked Diane's arm and pushed her into the hallway, told her to go home. Trembling and in shock, Diane staggered down the stairs and into the street and flagged down a taxicab.

She was too upset and nervous to go home, had the taxi driver take her to Saabira's place. Saabira was surprised but recognized immediately that something was wrong. She let Diane in, listened to her story, let her stay the night.

When Diane got home Sunday afternoon, Monish was already waiting inside. So were Curtis and Joe. Diane saw them as soon as she got into the kitchen, saw that Joe had attached his straps to the table, saw the bags of saline and the pole he would use to refill her, bring her back to the size Curtis wanted. She didn't bother resisting, just walked to the table, laid down on her back and closed her damp eyes.

Curtis took the opportunity to work on her hair as well. He cut it even shorter than last time and dyed it blond - a stark yellowish blond. This time, they didn't let her rest after the treatment. By nine, she was back to her fully engorged tit freak size and by nine thirty, she was at the Motel Six, being tit fucked by a line of five men. Monish brought her back to Julie and she worked the streets until six o'clock on Monday morning.

Julie walked into the room after Diane's last trick had left. "Ricky loved your pussy," she said.

"How is he?" Diane asked.

"He's fine," Julie said, her anger still obvious. "But you're not." She walked to the closet and opened the door. "We're stepping things up." She opened a door and took out a small bag. "Put this on and meet me downstairs," she said, throwing the bag at Diane.

Diane looked at the clock on the dresser. It was six twenty, she had to be at work by eight. There was a meeting with Vader and Bailey to go over another big account she'd worked on last year. Still plenty of time.

She opened the bag and stared taking out what was inside. A black garter belt. Fishnet stockings. A tiny black cocktail dress. Spiked heel shoes with two-inch wide ankle straps. A leather choker and two leather wrist bands. A fetish whore's costume. Diane panicked. This must be for a trick, she couldn't show up at work like this. Monish knew that. He'd lose his power. He couldn't blackmail her if she showed up like this.

But she'd lose her job. She knew that. Was that what he wanted now? To just pull the plug on her life and give her to Julie? She felt everything tumbling down around her, tried to keep calm. But it was impossible. With the new hair color and titties, Monday would have been difficult at best. But with these clothes, her life was as good as over.

Tears ran down her face as she slowly pulled the clothes on. Maybe it was one last customer, one last freak before they gave her her clothes back and sent her to work. Yes, that had to be it.

But it wasn't.

The driver dropped her in front of her building at five minutes to eight with nothing but her clothes. No money, no purse, no identification. Julie had made sure she didn't just run into the store and buy a new outfit. She had no choice but to walk upstairs and into the meeting dressed like the cheapest kind of street whore.

She fought hard to keep from crying but lost it halfway up the elevator. She felt the hot tears run down her cheek, knew her makeup was running. The people around her in the elevator politely turned their eyes but she knew they'd already seen everything they needed to see. Two of them knew her. The story would be around the floor in no time. Monish was destroying her.

Vader intercepted her before she got into the conference room, told her to go home. She reached for his shoulder, begged him to give her a chance, just let her sit in on the meeting and answer any questions. He said no. She offered to dial in from her desk, say she was calling in from home. Vader stared at her, his disgust and disappointment obvious, his concern showing. They stood there in the hallway. Bailey walked past, smiled an evil grin at her. Rodrigo stood halfway down the hall, looking at her. He leered and Diane felt herself sinking deeper into her own personal hell.  He was lost now. He'd seen her on the street and she might explain that, but there was no way to explain this. She was just another whore to him now.

Vader thought for a long time, then told her to go to his office and dial in, then go home as soon as the meeting ended. She thanked him and thanked him, staggering down the hallway, still not used to the heels.

Bailey followed her, pushed his head into Vader's office and said "I'll see you at three." She cried and punched in the numbers for the conference call.

The conference call was over by ten and Diane left the office. Before she could flag down a taxi, Bailey appeared behind her and took her arm. "Let's go," he said.

Diane opened her eyes. Bailey smiled down at her and started swinging his belt again. She struggled hard but her calves and forearms were tied tightly underneath the table, her hips high above her head on top of a pile of pillows. He stood at the head of the table, swinging the belt down hard between her legs, working from the inside of her right thigh, across her pussy and along the inside of her left thigh.

"You passed out again," he taunted her. "Try to be a little more focused." He walked to the side of the table and started on her titties again. She tried to scream but the ball gag in her mouth only let her moan and whimper. He hit her along the same lines he'd hit her before, intensifying the pain. Diane squirmed and twisted, grinding her body against the table. She'd given up on being aroused hours ago when it became clear that wasn't what he was after. He was punishing her for something real or imagined.

Monish had called him the night before and told him to leave her alone. He told Bailey that she was his and he couldn't afford to have Bailey taking her away from her work. This was the last time he could have her without paying Monish and he was making the best of it.

Bailey had set up four video cameras and scheduled over two dozen men to come and fuck her. When the first crew - a group of six - was finished, Bailey had tied her down and began the beating. He wanted to remember her at her best, he said, as he started the cameras. He started in earnest right away, there was no build up and no warning. She'd passed out half an hour into the first session and twice more since then. He kept an eye on his watch, the rest of the men would be arriving soon and he wanted her completely limp and exhausted by the time they showed up.

He dropped the belt to the floor and picked up the switch, laid it gently across her belly just above her navel. "I always loved this one," he whispered, then started in on her again. She lasted only ten minutes this time.

The taxi driver pulled into Diane's driveway, waited while she got out. He drove away, eyes still watching her as he turned the corner.

Diane stepped onto the porch and reached for the door knob. It was locked. She didn't have a purse or keys, but remembered there was a key hidden alongside the garage. She found it but the door still wouldn't open. Puzzled, she walked around to the back door but that key didn't work either. She looked into the window and saw that the furniture was gone from the front room. In a panic, she walked around to the other windows. All of the rooms were empty. Everything was gone - furniture, clothes, pictures, everything.

She panicked, she'd been robbed while she was gone! Should she call the police? She looked at her outfit. Probably not dressed like this, she would have to change...but there was nothing to change into. She got more agitated as she realized she had no money to buy anything new. In fact, no money to get a hotel room for the night or even a taxi to take her there.

She heard footsteps on the gravel behind the garage. Two sets of steps approaching. She ran into the corner, tried to hide but knew it was useless.

"Diane?"

She recognize the voice. Judy, a neighbor from down the block. She'd had her and Karl over a dozen times, they were casual social friends. She might have a hard time explaining the outfit, but at least it was someone she knew.

They looked around the corner, saw her standing against the back wall.

"Ah." Then, "just like they said."

Diane asked, "just like who said?" but they didn't answer. Judy reached out her hand and told Diane to follow them.

Diane chattered as they walked down the street about how she'd lost her keys and had come back from a wild party where everyone dressed in black and leather and...the woman slapped her across the face. Diane froze and stared at her.

"Save your breath, pig. You're going to need it," the woman snarled.

Diane's legs went weak and she fell to her knees, her hands scratching the concrete sidewalk.

"Get the fuck up," Karl barked, standing over her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upward. "Fucking bitch and all of your fancy friends." He pushed her forward. "Too fucking good for us, yeah?" he sneered. "We'll see how good you are. And what you're good *for*."

Diane's eyes watered and she looked up and down the street, her street, her neighborhood. Everything looked so normal. Cars in the driveways, lights on in the windows, bushes and trees trimmed just right. Now, it all looked frightening, foreign, ominous. Were those people in their houses? Or were they at Karl's house? Waiting for her? It didn't take long for her to find out.

...from Chapter 22 (which will be the final chapter) ...

As soon as Judy opened the door, Diane knew her time in that neighborhood was through. There were half a dozen couples in the front room, holding drinks and gathered around a big-screen television set. She was the main event. The movie that was playing was one of the whipping post sessions, the first one with Mr. Taylor. Taylor kept swinging his arm, the whip flying through the air, landing on her body with a sickening crack. Diane was screaming and begging, the sound on the television turned down but still audible.

...from Chapter 21...

Diane's eyes watered and she looked up and down the street, her street, her neighborhood. Everything looked so normal. Cars in the driveways, lights on in the windows, bushes and trees trimmed just right. Now, it all looked frightening, foreign, ominous. Were those people in their houses? Or were they at Karl's house? Waiting for her? It didn't take long for her to find out.

CHAPTER 22 (the final chapter)

As soon as Judy opened the door, Diane knew her life in that neighborhood was over. There were half a dozen couples in the front room holding drinks and gathered around a big-screen television set. She was the main event. The movie was one of the whipping post sessions - the first one with Mr. Taylor. Taylor swinging the whip, Diane screaming and begging, the sound on the television low but audible.

Diane cringed as she saw Linda and Jeff. Linda was the uptight, conservative-to-the-core daughter of one of their state's representatives. Jeff was her loyal sidekick, a completely broken and subservient piece of arm candy who walked two steps behind with a fawning look on his face. Linda stared at Diane with her best holier-than-thou look. The look was always there but now it was more pronounced than ever. Diane's life had been taken away - she had been reduced to nothing and now this woman - this monster - was going to rub her face in it.

Linda started walking toward her. Diane wanted to turn, to run, but she knew that there was nowhere to go. She felt herself going weak again. Her body was rubber, soft and melting, but she refused to let this woman get the better of her. She took a deep breath and tried her best to stand proud in her slutty little black dress and fishnet stockings.

Linda stopped two feet away and looked her up and down. "Do you remember what you said to me when I announced I was going to have the school ban 'The Catcher in the Rye'?"

Diane nodded.

"Say it," Linda demanded, in a cool, controlled voice.

Diane didn't speak, couldn't speak. Her lips were trembling.

Linda leaned closer to her, pressed a finger to Diane's chin. "You..." she pushed down, opening and closing Diane's mouth like a little girl playing with a doll. "You said, 'you're a hypocrite'. Do you remember that?" She stepped back and let Jeff put his arm around her. Diane nodded.

"You dared to call me a hypocrite. You. While you were - and always have been - nothing but a cheap little whore. Everyone knew it all along, we just didn't want to say anything. Unmarried at your age. Professional woman. We've all known it. We've known what you were all along. Only now we have proof." Linda leaned forward again, stared calmly into Diane's eyes. Diane stood frozen, rigid, doing her best to maintain some kind of dignity.

"You are the worst kind of feminist trash," Linda said in an icy voice. She leaned back, then spit. A large glob of saliva splashed against Diane's face, just at the left corner of her mouth. It dripped slowly down her lip and chin while Linda stared at her.

Judy leaned closer and whispered, "you are too much of a pig to even clean that off of your face, aren't you?"

Diane trembled as she realized she'd sunk so low it hadn't occurred to her to wipe her own face without asking permission.

"Enjoy the cock fest, you tramp," Linda said. She reached for Jeff's hand and they left, pulling the door tight behind them.

Judy led Diane into the basement where there was a mattress lying in the center of the floor. She undressed Diane, then pushed her to her knees in the middle of the circle of couples. The first couple was gentle on her. Diane licked the wife's pussy while her husband fucked her from behind. It was a new experience for the young woman but she seemed to like it. The second couple were older and more experienced. The man held up a wooden ruler, the woman used a three foot long, quarter-inch dowel. They had Diane stand with her arms out at her sides then took turns swatting her breasts, trying to outdo each other in making her scream. They kept at that for over twenty minutes until the man finally told his wife to start sucking him. She got on her knees and unzipped his pants while he switched from the ruler to the dowel, swatting Diane harder and harder as he got closer to cumming. By the time he came in his wife's mouth, Diane was crying and begging him to stop, the pain washing over her like fire. The next couple took over the tit beating until their arms tired, the couple after that just wanted to fuck her.

The couples took turns with her until four in the morning. That was the arrangement with Monish. He showed up on time and drove her back to Julie.

Julie told Diane she could sleep for three hours, then they'd drive her to work. Diane collapsed on the dirty bed and fell asleep immediately. When she woke up, Ricky was on top of her and pumping hard. He finished quickly and she fell asleep again.

At eight, Julie woke her up and handed her another slut dress - bright red with black stockings this time - and told her to get dressed. Diane looked around for the rest of the outfit but that was it. No bra. No panties. And the stockings were thigh high - her pussy would be naked and exposed again when she got to work. She knew there was something wrong with this but couldn't quite remember what. Julie gave her more pills before they dropped her off. These were blue ones but Diane didn't care. They pepped her up a little.

Nobody at the office talked to her. Vader avoided her, Rodrigo did the same. She got only two emails, both were junk mail. She knew her account was probably being filtered. Was her business-related mail going to Bailey? Had he taken over her job completely? Already?

She shook her head, trying to clear it but with no luck. She heard voices down the hall, thought she was hearing Saabira. But that was impossible. She stood up and looked around. She saw Saabira standing outside Vader's office, talking to him quietly. Diane sank back into her chair. Focus! What the hell was going on? Focus!

Diane picked up one of the folders from her IN box and opened it up. The papers inside were blank. She dropped it on her desk and reached for another one. A manila envelope. Empty. She put her head in her hands, shook it, rubbed her eyes. Had she taken out the contents and set them down somewhere? I need coffee, she thought. She got up and walked toward the elevator, saw one of the mail clerks standing in the hallway, frozen in place, eyes locked on her tits. She smiled a stupid flirtatious smile and shook them. He turned and vanished into a hallway. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! she screamed inside her head. She rushed to the elevator and pressed the DOWN button. When the door closed, she collapsed against the wall, exhausted and confused. The bell rang and she straightened up. The door opened and two men came in. Both of them stared at her in disgust and turned around, facing forward, mouths closed tight. She felt a temptation to reach out and touch the closest man's ass. Shake him up. Turn him on. NO! she thought. Focus!

In the lobby, she saw Rodrigo talking with someone who was standing just out of her line of vision. He had a serious look on his face and was nodding. He noticed Diane and turned to look at her, quickly turned back. He leaned in to talk to the other person for a second. Diane walked slowly toward the cafe, eyes watching Rodrigo. She took a few more steps and could see who he was talking to. It was Saabira. Diane's knees turned to water but she kept walking. She wanted to run, to go...where? She couldn't go home. She couldn't go anywhere. It all started coming back to her, like a fog lifting. She had no money and she was locked out of her house. What happened? Who should she call? Who could she call? She stepped into the cafe, fell into a chair near the door. She was completely helpless. She didn't even have money for a coffee. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. She felt dizzy and lost.

"Come on, you need a sandwich," she heard Katie's voice behind her. Diane turned around and saw Katie and broke down crying. Everything was falling apart and she knew it. She collapsed into Katie's arms, shaking and whimpering.

"Shhh," Katie said softly. "Let's get you some food..."

Diane spent that night at Saabira's. Katie cooked dinner and Diane ate with all three of them, sneaking glances at Masozi when she could without being obvious. They had Ingrid lead her to one of the spare bedrooms and offer her warm milk and a nightgown. Diane didn't understand how Ingrid fit into the picture, she only knew that Ingrid scared her. There was a lot of rage just underneath that pale skin and it seemed to have Diane as its focus. She didn't know why but she knew it was true.

The next day, she showed up at work in a regular suit with a handbag and cash. She went to her desk and sat still, completely defeated, waiting for instructions, unable to initiate any action herself. Katie had explained to her at breakfast that she would be living with them from now on. Saabira had bought the house and destroyed everything in it. She had also electronically closed out all of Diane's banking and investment accounts. She was completely cut off from everything now, completely isolated. Except for work, Monish, and Lars. Diane knew something was wrong with that but couldn't focus enough to decide what. She sat docilely in her cubicle waiting for the telephone call Katie had told her would come. She felt calm, peaceful. Her life was turning to dust and there was nothing she could do about it.

At ten thirty, the phone call came. It was Vader. He wanted her in his office. Diane took a small mirror out of her purse and adjusted her lipstick, ran her fingers through her spiky blond hair, then stood up and looked down the hall toward Vader's office. She saw Saabira and Masozi further down the hall near the elevators speaking with some of her co-workers. The men saw her and pointed. Saabira nodded and the men whispered something to each other. Diane felt her stomach twisting. Then, she felt heat between her legs, her cunt starting to get wet. She closed her eyes and moaned. Something touched her. She looked down and saw Rodrigo's hand touching her right thigh, just at the hem of her skirt. He was leering up at her. "So, that *was* you," he said. Diane bit her lip, nodded. "All these years," he said, still lightly stroking her leg. "All these years. The professional. The feminist. The friend." He moved his hand from the outside to the inside of her knee. "And you were nothing but a cheap whore the whole time." Diane trembled at his touch, opened her knees reflexively, reached her hand behind his head and pulled him close, pressed his cheek against her leg. Rodrigo pushed his chair back and dropped his arms. "Maybe I'll see you on the street sometime, eh?" He turned around and picked up a report, ignoring her, starting to read.

Diane felt her eyes getting wet, wiped them with the back of her hand. She saw the two men who had been at the elevator walking toward her, squeezed the water out of her eyes and smiled at them. The tall one - Roger - handed her a card. "Be here at six tonight." He patted her bottom and went to his desk. "The party's starting, eh?" Rodrigo said without turning.

"Rodrigo, please..." she stammered. She stood there for a long time but he just kept reading. She walked to Vader's office.

Bailey was there. He was sitting in a chair opposite Vader's desk, a smug smile on his face, an envelope in his lap. Diane closed the door behind her, saw what was on Vader's desk. A dozen photographs of her in various poses with men from Johnstown. And a videotape. Underneath were several pieces of paper that looked like legal briefs. She saw her name typed on one of them.

"I'm very disappointed in you," Vader said. Diane didn't answer, just stood there perfectly still. "You risked so much. And you could have brought Bailey down with you."

Bailey gave her an evil smile. "I did what I could, sir, but they wouldn't budge," he said to Vader, his eyes locked on Diane.

"I have no choice but to let you go," Vader said. "They are talking about legal proceedings, putting these pictures in the public domain, dragging all of us through the mud." He looked at her. "I can't afford that."

Diane was crushed. Bailey had come out of this a complete winner. Vader thought that she was the bad one, the one who started it all, and that she had nearly dragged Bailey down with her. It was insane and she knew it. Bailey knew it. But it didn't matter. Vader didn't know it.

"So what should I do, Bates? Give me an option."

She stared at him. His face was a mask of pain and it destroyed her. He started talking then. Their relationship was a joke now and he was the butt. How many other deals had she closed this way? How long had she been using her body to attract clients? She didn't bother putting up a defense, she knew Bailey would have done his homework, that he would have an answer for anything she said. Plus, Katie, Saabira, and Masozi had been in the building yesterday and today, spreading rumors about her. Every avenue was closed off. She looked at Bailey. He was still smiling, secure, safe. And triumphant.

"Pack your things," Vader said. "Go." She saw the tear in his eye as he turned to reach for the telephone. "I said go."

"Goodbye, Mr. Vader," she said quietly.

Diane vanished completely that afternoon. It took Katie six days to find her. She was in a basement underneath a small dive bar near the river. When Katie found her, she was in a corner asleep on a pile of smelly sheets, arms chained above her head, legs spread wide, ankles shackled to the walls. Her chest had shrunk to its regular size, though her nipples were still unnaturally long. Her hair was dirty and she was drooling down her chin around a ball gag. Katie saw that she'd been flogged recently, also that she was sitting in a pool of cum. The basement stank of sweat, liquor and cum and Katie had to hold a cloth over her face to breath.

Katie knelt in front of her and stroked her cheek with her hand. Diane woke up slowly. She stared at Katie, didn't seem to recognize her. Katie was worried and quickly undid the ball gag. "You got some for me?" Diane asked in a slurred, painful voice. Katie stared at her. "Some what, honey?" Diane squinted at her, trying hard to focus. "You know..."

"Puta, whore!" Katie turned around and saw Monish and three of his men. Monish had a pistol in his hand, motioned for Katie to stand up and move aside. She got up calmly, walked toward the wall.

"Monish?" Diane asked, rising excitement in her voice. "You there, baby?"

Katie stared at Diane, then back at Monish. "What did you do to her?"

Monish laughed and put the gun back in his pocket. "Nothing. I ain't done nothing to her." He knelt in front of Diane and stroked her hair. "Have I, honey?"

Diane leaned her head back, offered her mouth to Monish. He leaned down and kissed her. He slid his hand between her legs. As soon as he touched her cunt, she began thrashing back and forth, fucking herself against his hand. She came quickly, moaning loud.

Monish turned and smiled at Katie. "I think she likes me."

"You got some for me?" Diane repeated, staring at Monish. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rock of crack cocaine. Diane stared at it, her eyes wide with desire. "Oh, yeah, honey..." she moaned.

Monish stood up and went across the room, threw the rock to one of his men and smiled. "Make her earn it," he said, then started for the stairs. He stopped and turned to look at Katie. "You want to leave now or have some fun with her first?"

Katie looked at Diane then at Monish and stood up. "I'm going," she said and followed him up the stairs.

"How did you find her?" he asked.

"I have connections. You're good but not that good."

They climbed out of the stairwell and walked to the front door of the bar.

"Masozi will have her, you know," Katie said.

"Fuck you, dyke bitch," Monish growled.

Katie didn't say anything, just smiled at him and walked to her car.

Diane kissed Keera's neck gently. She was stroking the inside of the whore's thighs with her fingertips, thrilled as she listened to her moans. I'm doing this, she thought, proud of herself. She wanted to please the whore laying beside her more than anything else in the world. She opened her lips and pressed the tip of her tongue against Keera's dark flesh, just below her right ear, then slowly traced a wet line down her neck, finally opening her lips slightly and sucking gently at her skin, just at the base of her neck. Keera offered Diane another hit from the crack pipe and Diane took it eagerly. Her own body was swimming somewhere warm and peaceful and she thanked Keera again, then went back to worshipping her body with her mouth. Keera pulled the top of her dress down, guiding Diane's mouth to her right nipple, which was already stiff and swollen. Diane sucked gently, her fingers now searching between Keera's cunt lips for her clit.

The van stopped at a light. Monish turned around, watching the two women while his driver grumbled and complained. The other three men in the back of the van rubbed their crotches, laughing and trying to decide which of the two they were going to fuck once Monish turned them loose. Marco and Paul both preferred Keera but Danny wanted ass and that meant Diane. That was fine by him. She was one of the few of Monish's girls who actually got off that way and he liked the way she jerked on his cock when she came.

Half an hour later, they pulled up into Katie's driveway.

"Hurry up, you two," Monish called into the back of the van. Danny was buried deep inside Diane's backside and Marco was holding her head tight against his cock, the head buried deep in the back of her throat. He started to cum and pulled out so he could spray his load all over her face. Danny pumped a few more times then went rigid too, shooting warm semen deep into her.

Monish threw her a towel and she wiped herself off. They got out of the van. Keera helped her adjust her dress, then they all walked to Katie's front door. Monish pressed the button.

Ingrid answered and showed them into the main room. Katie and Saabira were there, each sitting in a large armchair. Masozi was there too and Diane's eyes locked on her. Her hunger was obvious but Masozi showed no reaction. Katie and Ingrid smiled; they saw it. Diane was completely in the woman's thrall, she would be an excellent slave.

Monish's three men circled around him. Keera stayed behind them near the door.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?" Monish said in a cocky voice. "I got something you want?"

Masozi stood up. She was regal and intimidating - wrapped head to toe in rich purple fabric, a long dress with a high neck and a train that draped behind her from her left shoulder.

"You have desecrated her body in a way unacceptable to us," Masozi said. She leaned slightly and picked up a stack of photographs from the table beside her chair. She threw them on the ground in front of Monish. He glanced down and saw that they were pictures of Diane with her hugely distended breasts.

"'Unacceptable to us'? What the fuck you talking about?" Monish spat. "I fucking own this bitch and I will do what I want to with her titties." He turned to Diane and growled at her. "You put these dyke bitches up to this shit?"

Diane just lowered her head and shook her head no. She felt Monish's glare but didn't care. She let her eyes move across the floor until she saw Masozi's feet, splendid in golden sandals, her beautiful nails done in bright red, her toes perfect, the skin of her feet crying out to be kissed. Diane felt her cunt wet and her nipples stiffen as she imagined herself on her knees in front of Masozi, kissing the tops of those feet, licking the ankles and backs of the shins.

Katie saw it, smiled and motioned for Saabira to watch Diane. Diane's body revealed everything, it was almost telepathic among the four of them.

"I want her." Masozi stepped backward and lowered herself into the armchair again. She reached for a wine glass and took a sip.

Katie stood up. "Monish. I want to make it clear to you that we are taking possession of Diane. No money will exchange hands. You are a criminal, you began this transaction with blackmail, you have destroyed her life, and we are freeing her from you. Now. Tonight."

Monish stepped toward her. "Fuck you, you cunt! This bitch is my property!" He pulled a pistol from his pocket and raised it. "You and your lezzbo freak friends can..." He didn't finish his sentence. With a single motion, Katie swept her hand across his neck and a stream of blood shot across the room. His head tilted backward like a Pez dispenser. She swung her arm again and the thin knife expertly sliced between two of his cervical vertebrae. Monish's head rolled backward across the floor, landing at Keera's feet. She screamed and kicked it across the room. Monish's men were frozen and speechless.

"Take this trash out of here and do what you want to with it," Katie said, pointing at Monish's body. "We don't expect to hear anything from any of you about this. Ever."

The men stared at each other, uncertain what to do. Katie told them calmly, "go into the next room and you will find a blanket. Bring it back here. Load your friend into it and be on your way." She raised her hand toward Diane. "Come. We need to clean you up."

Diane was paralyzed. She didn't know what to think or do. Katie had been the soft one, the quiet one, the one who ministered to her after Saabira and Masozi's abuses. Now, she saw what the woman was capable of. She looked at Katie, then at Monish's body. He had been her last link with her old life, really her last link with reality. She had no job, her connections with Vader and Rodrigo had been severed. Her relationship with her best friend Carol had been poisoned. She had no home, no savings, no clothes, there was nothing left. They'd even managed to alienate her from Lars. She was completely adrift with nowhere to turn.

Monish's men rolled his limp body onto the blanket. One of them nudged his head forward with his boot, his face twisted in disgust. They rolled the blanked and carried it out of the house. Keera stood leaning against the wall, whimpering and crying. Saabira took her in her arms and held her. She walked Keera back to her armchair and held her in her lap, Keera's head buried in her shoulder, sobbing softly. Saabira stroked her hair gently, whispering "hush, hush."

"Child?" Diane heard Masozi's voice and turned, hypnotized. She looked into the woman's deep black eyes and felt her will collapse completely. She dared to lower her gaze to Masozi's lips, those lips she longed to someday kiss, the lips that she wanted more than anything to hear moan in pleasure as she licked the moist folds of the woman's pussy. She felt herself getting dizzy and wanted to drop to her knees but her body wouldn't respond. Masozi leaned back just slightly and let her knees fall open. With one hand, she gently slid the rich purple fabric aside. Diane's eyes grew wide as she saw the glistening, muscular thigh and slowly let her gaze creep upward into the dark and promising triangle of Masozi's crotch.

"Come," Masozi whispered as Diane surrendered herself to her new life.

THE END - thanks for reading.