MF/F, reluc, exhib, humiliation, spanking, BDSM, blackml

1 | 2

Blackmail
By Callidus


The Game

I didn't presume Darla wanted me to be barefoot at the mall. After all, it's against the rules. I might have gotten kicked out before getting into the bathroom. I'm sure she didn't want that. I wore tennis shoes to match my coat, since tennis shoes go with just about anything. I made sure to shave before heading out, but I had grown used to doing that anyhow. I stopped even thinking why I was doing it, it was just an automatic part of my showers, now. I even ate relatively healthily earlier in the day. There was a slight breeze, but I wasn't too cold if I didn't stay outside too long. Again, the drive took about an hour, but I left earlier than last time. I wasn't as scared this time. I think it was because I didn't think about what I was going to have to do. Also, there were less cars and I got to keep my coat on, this time. I didn't allow my imagination to wander. I could only see a handful of people, and they were leaving. I could tell they were looking at my fully exposed legs, but I avoided embarrassment by not thinking about it and reminding myself it was dark. Well, I was embarrassed, I won't lie, but not as much as I expected. I was more comfortable with the situation than I should have been. I knew that, but I didn't allow myself to worry. Maybe I had developed that as a habit, to cope with what was happening. I showed up in the third stall with ten minutes to spare. I waited what I presumed was most of an hour before Darla showed up. Other people used the bathroom, but nobody said anything about me or the stall I was in. I just acted like a pair of feet in a stall. Not many people. Darla was, by my estimate, the seventh person to enter the bathroom.


"bitch?', I heard her say loudly at the door to the stall.


"Yes, Mistress?", I asked. My voice cracked in the middle of 'Mistress'. A part of me thought nothing was really going to happen, I guess. I felt that Darla was going to go softer on me, like during the week before. But then she was there. I knew I was wrong. Tonight was real. I had convinced myself tonight wasn't really going to happen, and that's why I was able to relax and avoid embarrassment But there was Darla. I suddenly realized how little I had on. Shoes and a coat. I was totally indecent. Even if nobody could see any of my privates, my coat simply wasn't long enough to allow me to do simple things, like sit or even bend at any significant angle, without showing off. Except I wasn't showing off, I was being forced to display myself to strangers! I almost had an outburst, but I remembered that my life as I knew it was at steak, so I calmed myself.


"Invite me in, bitch.", she ordered with mock patience. I'm not sure how, but it was there. I don't know how long my thoughts were, in between my answer and her mocking, but I knew I took too long.


"Please come in, Mistress.", I said softly, as I unlocked and opened the door. I hoped I was hiding my anxiety and anger well enough that she either didn't notice or care. Or maybe I should have allowed her to notice just in case she would care? No, she put me through too much to presume she cared about what I want.


She did come in, and she didn't hesitate or move slowly. I almost sighed or trembled or something. I couldn't be sure what I was holding back, any more. She had a large shoe box in her arms. It was pink and had red lines all over it, but nothing that would indicate what kind of shoes were inside. She set it down at my feet, then stood right back up, opened my coat, and wrapped her arms around me. I froze in fear. Why was I at the mall naked? What horrible idea could she be forcing me through in a public place after close? Well, at least it was after close, I reassured myself (slightly). She moved her hands from around me and started caressing my breasts with soft, circular motions. Then she licked and sucked on my nipples. I was already a little cold and wasn't sure if my nipples got hard from her or if they already were, but I told myself it was the cold. Still, I couldn't help but think of how she had forced me to orgasm. Somehow, that felt like the biggest injustice about the whole situation. How can I physically enjoy any of this if I mentally hate it? It doesn't make sense, and my recent research seems to agree. She smiled at me, as though she was not a manipulative, immoral bitch. She could have been cute if I didn't hate her. In a platonic sense. She slid her arms out from under my coat and bent at the knees to open the box. I could make out dark clothing, including a set of knee high, high-heeled boots. She reached in and took out a little plastic box about three or four inches on each side. She set it on the toilet paper dispenser and shut the shoe box.


"In this box is a timer. When it buzzes, you must leave this stall, go through the door at the back of the bathroom, not the door patrons come through, and walk down the hallway. You're going to be behind the stores, in the area employees use to get around. By the time the buzzer goes off, all the employees except night security will be gone. On the back of the first door you come to, there will be a note from me. Read it, and follow the instructions.", She motioned to the box at our feet, "This box contains everything you will wear tonight, plus one magazine and several tools. Instructions are written on the top of the lid. Follow them."


Then, she kissed me deeply, and I put effort into kissing her back without slapping her. It never gets easier. I promised myself I'd try to please her, but I simply wasn't sexually attracted to her. Not consciously, anyhow! Kissing her under these conditions made the cold dissipate due to my anger. She looked me over and held out her hand, "Give me your coat, and those shoes will cost you points."


I took my coat and shoes off and handed them to her. She looked me up and down, licked her lips, and reminded me, perhaps not on purpose, how exposed and vulnerable I was. I feared my anger was apparent but she didn't delay, she left. She shut the stall door behind her and I could hear her exist the bathroom the same way she wanted me to go. There was no reason to wait, so I opened the box. The dark black instructions written in marker on the underside of the lid read as follows;


1; Use the douche and the enema. Make sure you're thoroughly clean!

2; Put all items of clothing on in the manner it's obvious they go, except the gloves. The boots were difficult to find, but I managed it. There's a collar type thing at the top of them. Snap the locks snuggly into place after they're on. Everything else is intuitive.

3; Use the lube on the butt plug and the dildo. Thrust the dildo into yourself five times, then insert the butt plug. Put more lube on the dildo, and thrust five more times, then remove the butt plug and apply more lube, then replacing it. Repeat until the lube begins to drip down both of your legs, but repeat the cycle no fewer than ten times.

4; Squeeze a few gobs of lube onto each tit and all over your torso. Moisten your tits, your torso, legs, and ass. Get as shiny as you can

5; Put the gloves on.

6; You may read the magazine as you wait for the buzzer.

7; If your tits or ass ever get dry, take off a glove and lube them again from your cunt and asshole, since those parts will have some spare lube, then put the glove back on.

8; I won't tell you how, but I will know if you don't follow these instructions exactly, so don't get into even more trouble.


I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I read the list, and my stomach stayed low when I was done. The douche and enema were in either boot. I I douched first, since I had done it before and would not consider it disgusting. The fluid seemed fairly cold and it was uncomfortable. I feared someone would come in while I expelled it and that they'd somehow know what I was doing. And would it normally bother me if someone knew I was douching in a public bathroom? What would get me to?! This whole situation was artificial and scary. Douching is something you do in private, period.


I had never used an enema before, and it was exactly as gross feeling as I imagined. It felt like I had diarrhea while I was filling my bowels up and releasing. The nozzle on the end of the tube was easy enough to get into my anus, but it just made me realize how exposed I would be if security came in and found me. What would I tell them? To reduce the odds that I'd get caught doing something that compromising, I hurried. The instructions on the box said to do it twice for best results, and there were two solutions. I figured I'd do it twice, since Darla would mysteriously know what I did. I thought I could hear people walking by the bathroom doors, so instead of allowing myself to worry about it I quickly gave myself a second enema. The second solution came out really clean, but it felt just as gross when I did it. Ironically enough, it made me feel dirty and wrong, when I was technically getting cleaner.


Without any protection in the form of clothes and feeling violated, I looked through the box. The clothes consisted of the following things; The twice mentioned boots, which had claspy things at the top and near the ankles, and seemed like they'd be very tight; pleather dress gloves, like the kind you'd wear with an expensive cocktail dress except made out of plastic; A thick, black belt about three inches wide, a black ski mask, and a hair tie. After checking a fourth time, I began to get fearful if Darla was going to have me rob a store. In the nude! Those clothes obviously didn't count as such. They wouldn't cover anything I'd want covered! And they didn't. The boots were tight in the calves, but well-fitting for the foot. The clasps had small locks attached to them. I could adjust their position, though. I adjusted them to be as comfortable as I suspected I could get in them, and locked them. Where would anyone find boots like those? They clacked on the floor, too, so I'd have to move slowly to reduce how much noise I made. Perhaps Darla didn't want me taking them off to avoid that clacking. And I know myself, perhaps I would have.


The gloves, on the other hand, protected me. I couldn't get my fingerprints on anything. I knew I was going to be doing something illegal, and I might even get some jail time if I got caught.... but how much? For walking around a mall after close in the nude, the punishment couldn't be any more severe than what I'd get for having sex with a student. Could it? What if I robbed a store? With the context of being nude, would I be able to teach again? The mask did something miraculous. Right before I decided I'd try to find a way home --nude and without keys to my car-- I felt that I was safe. Not wholly. In fact, almost not at all. But My face being hidden behind a mask gave me just enough nerve to continue what I was doing. Not only was my face covered from being identified on cameras, which reassured my consciously, but it made me feel like what was happening was less real. I could almost pretend I was simply watching what was happening from some other place. The belt fit snuggly, but not tightly. It served to accentuate my hips, and of course the fact I wasn't wearing any pants or a shirt. I got the feeling I would have started crying then, but the mask still had that "not really me" feeling going.


Before putting the gloves on, I got out the dildo, butt plug, and the lube. The lube was at least twelve ounces and was exceptionally viscous, more than I'd have expected. The toilet looked clean, but I didn't trust it anyhow. I left the stuff by the box at my feet as I stared down at the dildo I held. Of course I didn't want to do what I was about to do. I just... I want my private parts to be private. I didn't want to have stuff shoved into them on command. But I already came here. Before actually being on the spot, you don't have to think about it. The threat of losing my career and getting prison time is a big motivation when the horrible thing I have to do to avoid it isn't happening, but when it is happening it still rattles the nerve. But I decided I'd have to get it in, so I pretended I was in the high school bathroom again, with Chad.


What is it with me and Chad? Why was I stuck on him like this? Why hadn't I dated anyone since him? Why did I masturbate more often than I used to after he left? He was the sexiest man I had ever known, sure. He could even turn me on in a situation like this, when he wasn't even around! Why? He had an average sized penis, from my experiences, he wasn't particularly impressive physically, so why? It had to be his personality. How was he different from every other guy I had ever been with? I still couldn't figure it out. Regardless the reason, it allowed me to use the dildo without loosing my mind.


I don't often have epiphanies. Usually I use reasoning and think of something and the answer comes to me methodically. But it hit me very suddenly that time. He had a commanding personality. When I was in high school myself, all the boys were... well, boys. They were more interested in playing than in serious conversation. I never pretended I had anything serious with any of them. I fell in love, sure, but I never fooled myself into thinking that would last forever. At the time, it seemed like it would, but I reminded myself not to get my hopes up. And I don't think my hopes ever did get higher than they should have. In college I had a few boyfriends. They tended to be intellectuals like myself, though I don't like calling myself one. Praise of one's self is often exaggerated or outright wrong, and I'd rather be an intellectual than tell people I am one. If they pay enough attention, they'll figure it out. College me thought I wanted that, a smart, educated man. But every one of those men I had before Chad had one thing in common; They always asked me what I wanted.

Chad never asked me. He simply did. He made a decision, and I went along with it. I may have tried to change his mind, and I was even successful once or twice, but he never asked permission and he never apologized for being presumptuous. He wasn't rude, my any measure, he simply took charge and made things the way he wanted them to be. And he wanted me, he pursued me, and he got me due to that. I knew I let him call the shots, but I had never before realized I WANTED him to! But what does that say about me? If I want a man who takes control of me, what of my own dreams and passions? But... my passion was for him, and he never interfered in my other passions. He wanted me for me, and made decisions I was comfortable with. This epiphany lead me to hypothesize why Darla was able to make me orgasm. I liked being dominated. And when I thought that word, "dominated", it seemed almost offensive. My entire life I had presumed being dominated was a bad thing. Maybe it is. But I seemed to have some sort of craving for it in some capacity. I wished I were able to explore that with someone I respected and trusted, though, instead of a vile little girl. Then, maybe this would allow me to get over my strange attraction to domineering men. But if I like it, is it really bad? Anyway, I didn't have time to think about that. I had gotten the dildo in, but I had stopped to think for upwards of a minute. Thinking of Chad (which was now a bit awkward, but also a bit more exciting, somehow), I began to thrust the dildo.


No sooner did I get to the third thrust did someone walk into the bathroom. I didn't want attention drawn to my stall. It might be security... what if I were told to leave?! I'd have been found like that! What would they do when they saw I had a ski mask on?! What if the security officer were less than noble?! I could delay, but certainly not long enough. My tears certainly wouldn't do much for me as I was. I stopped thinking and picked up the lube, placing it on the toilet paper dispenser. I picked up the butt plug and didn't really have much of a choice but to put it in. I had already lubed it up when I lubed the dildo, so that saved some time. I scooted my foot as I tried to get it in, and the boot clacked. I realized how I looked. I was standing with my legs spread almost as wide as the stall, one hand shoving a dildo in my vagina and the other forcing a plug into my butt, a ski mask on, and no possible way to hide the fact I was essentially naked. Worst of all, I realized how loudly I was breathing. There was almost zero background noise, so I had to control my breathing. I slowed it as much as I could while still actually breathing. I slowly pressed the plug against my sphincter, and I realized how anxious I was. I was having a hard time even starting it in. I breathed deeply a few times, slowly. I pressed again, and it started to squeeze in. I pressed evenly, allowing my anus to relax and accept the plug. I breathed heavier than I wanted to, and it slid out a little when I tensed in realization I could have been heard. I focused on breathing deep and slow, but mostly quiet. I relaxed again and the plug slid in a little faster. Still, I didn't have a lot of experience with butt plugs, even counting recently. It felt like most of it was in, but I didn't dare look because that would make the boots move and clack. My asphincter felt like it was getting warm, and there was some pain, but then the plug slid the rest of the way mush faster than I expected. My tensing made it slide in faster, and it pressed against my insides with a mild pain. I grunted slightly when that happened, so I stopped moving at all to listen to what was happening with the other person in the bathroom. My mind wasn't on that at all until then.


My feet seemed at the right angle to possibly belong to someone sitting on the toilet, so I didn't move them any more. I stood silently, holding my breath. The stall next to me opened, then shut. Someone was in it. Why the stall next to mine?! It seemed far too quiet in the bathroom, as I could hear every sound that lady was making. It was almost obvious the little old lady was not security, but there was still the chance she somehow manages to figure out what I was doing. What if she asked for some toilet paper? A silly concern, as I could then hand her some like I normally would, but what if she realized what the shine on my hand was? I wasn't anywhere as relaxed as I would have liked, and the butt plug seemed to press against a particular thing inside me, making me want to stand straighter to make it hurt less. I stood there for so long that my legs got tired and the imbalance of the high heels was made obvious as I wobbled. I had to stand in the same position for so long that my legs started to burn, but I dared not move. I couldn't afford any attention. The awkward position and my wanting to remain silent and still added up, though. The dildo seemed to be rubbing my insides tighter, due to the dildo, and it felt bad. I couldn't move the dildo at all, though, because the woman might hear the squish and realize something was happening. The more time passed, the more painful my lower body got, but all I could do was breath.


I heard the lady finish her business. She flushed the toilet, left the stall, washed her hands, and left the bathroom. I listened to be sure that was in fact her leaving and not someone else coming in. I didn't finish the third thrust of the dildo. Not only was I not thinking about how many thrusts I had already done, but my vagina was sore. It felt better when the dildo was out, so I tenuously tried to put it back. I didn't want to, but it wasn't really an option. So I put it back in and stroked twice. It felt only very slightly sore, and that could have been because the butt plug was making it feel tighter. I was envious of that ladies ability to just leave. I thrust five times, took out the plug, and reapplied lube to both. Getting the plug in the second time made me just as sore as the first time, but I wasn't as anxious due to the lady in the stall right next door, so it seemed easier anyway. It probably took just as long, though. In fact, it never actually got easier. Since I was using so much lube, not only was it not easier, it felt grosser each time.


When I was FINALLY done with that, I decided to read the magazine. It seemed close enough to closing that I'd either get told to leave by someone, or there wouldn't be anyone. I wasn't really sure which I'd prefer. The magazine was a typical women's magazine. I originally thought it'd be a porno or something, but I was pleasantly surprised, and placed it on the floor where I could see. I at the very least got to enjoy what I read, and it distracted me from the irritation the dildo and butt-plug inflicted on my soft tissues. It felt amazing not having either of those in me. I was actually relaxed,instead of trying to force myself to relax to fit things inside of me. Well, not relaxed, but the elevation of having that part over with made me seem relaxed. I was still really stressed out, but compared to moments earlier I was doing much better.


After reading several articles, the thought that I had no idea what time it was haunted me, suddenly. I was pretty sure the mall was closed, and was curious why I didn't hear an announcement. It seems like most malls announce things like that somehow. Anyway, I had to get the lube out again to lubricate my whole body. I didn't have to spread any onto my butt, as it was already all over it, so I put some on my breasts, legs, and shoulders. I was slippery. The breeze from under the stall was exaggerated by the moisture and I felt even more exposed. I rubbed the excess lube on the outside of my thighs, and put the gloves on. I put the dildo, butt-plug, and lube in the box, leaving the lid open. I guess I was too distracted worrying over how much damage I was doing to my sex organs. I didn't even waste energy being angry at Darla over it, right then. I even if I did get actually hurt I'd eventually heal, so it didn't matter too much. But why did a lubricated dildo and butt-plug do that. Was I just extra sensitive? Was it because I got turned off but kept going?


I started thinking about things as I waited, again. I wondered what Chad would do if he saw me the way I was right then. Perhaps he'd take me to the bed store and tell me to kneel before him to start things off. He wouldn't be too gentlemanly since I was obviously ready for sex anyway. He would tell me, as I fellated him, that it's good I got all oiled up for him, because it makes me shiny and he thinks it accentuates my beautiful curves. The curves he simply must have. He overheard me talking to myself as I realized what differentiated him from every other man I dated (even though I don't think I actually said anything), so he'd be sure to take control of situations more often. I read almost the entire magazine, even though I didn't remember doing it due to my fantasy. I even reapplied the lube on my breasts and parts of my back, but my butt was still sopping. The buzzer took what seemed forever. I started wondering if it had gone off and I somehow hadn't noticed. Perhaps Darla was playing a trick on me, trying to get me to stay in here all night, waiting for the buzzer, just to be found like this in the morning. Might that be preferable? And there was Darla again. I suddenly hated my situation once more. My thoughts were away from Chad, the thing that seemed to keep me sane throughout this, and onto the cause of it all!


And that's when I had my second epiphany. If Chad were making me do this, I'd actually be enjoying it. How does a woman realize things about her sexuality like this so suddenly? Was my subconscious simply making me think this stuff so that I could handle having to do it? So I imagined walking around the mall like Darla would have me, except Chad was telling me to do it. I'd be naked and vulnerable, but nobody would be around. He was going to surprise me. He would be the mall security, and he'd hand-cuff me, and then he'd have his way with me. The fear of getting caught would be there, we'd be role-playing, I'd be hand-cuffed... there's no way to tell how I'd have really liked it, since it was just fantasy, but I thought I would have liked it.


Why hadn't I worked on figuring out how to remove Darla's power over me last week?! I need her out of my life permanently. I need Chad back in my life. I needed to explore this side of myself with someone I actually wanted to explore it with. And that was now another wrong Darla had committed against me. Instead of allowing me to explore this sort of kink with Chad, she's forcing me to do it with her. With a girl. And then I cried. I fell to my knees, which hurt slightly, and put my hands up to my face. I hid from my environment, covering my front with my arms. I rested my behind on the heel of the boots, but it was hard to keep it there due to being slippery. Which just made me cry harder. I leaned forward to get my butt off the heels. My head was against the door, but it still seemed better than having my butt on those slippery heels. I don't know how long I cried, but I finally managed to consciously calm myself down. I took the mask off and wiped my tears off on the back of it. When I put it back on, I was only watching, again. I wasn't really here. It was an illusion, or maybe I was. And then I stood back up.


Before I lost my patience entirely and set out on my own, the buzzer did go off. Until it happened, I didn't realize how loud it would seem. It was trying to call attention to any security or remaining employees within earshot. And I was sure earshot was a wide range. I cupped the box with my gloved hands, but it didn't do any good. The ringing was over soon thereafter anyhow. I had to be collected. I concentrated on being calm. I had to pretend I was simply watching through someone else's mask. I couldn't help but wait and listen for people. I tried to focus my hearing through the mask, towards each door. After what I estimated was three minutes, with nobody coming to investigate the ringing noise, I put the magazine in the box, shut the box, picked it up, flushed the toilet, and stood up. I wiped off my knees, though it did no good, and sighed loudly.


I opened the stall door, and slowly walked out. Each step clacked loudly enough to echo slightly from the bathroom wall. Before actually leaving the stall, I leaned down to see if there were feet anywhere. The clacking of my shoes got me anxious and I wanted to double check. There were none besides my own, so I stepped out. The breeze from simply walking while so moist was enough to remind me what I wasn't wearing. I glared at the door I came in, the one customers enter. I got the impression someone was going to come in at any moment. But I couldn't hurry too fast or the quickly clacking heels would rouse the person's curiosity. But would slow clacks really be any better? Besides I was still clearing my head from the strong emotions I had just felt and the tears I had spilled. I could feel that my vagina and anus were penetrated recently, loosened a bit, and dripping. I felt like I was, indeed, perverted. I had gone along with the plan, after all. The lubricant felt like a loose cum dripping from inside both of my orifices. I was sure to be found and considered a pervert among the ranks of pedophiles and rapists. All the more reason to hurry, I figured. If I were found, I'd be found here. I had to get behind the door.


I clacked towards the back door quickly. The way my breasts slid along each other and the box concerned me. I was so slippery and slick that I felt even shadows would slide off of me, and I was scared to touch anything in case it made dust and dirt stick to me via the lube. I opened the door to see a long hallway with piping near the ceiling. The breeze was stronger back here, even though it wasn't actually strong at all. My sense of touch was simply sensitive to wind with how wet I was, which was something I realized each time I moved. The breeze was cold, too. I huddled up a bit, clacking my way through a well-enough lit back hallway, the shadows sliding off of me. The door shut quietly behind me, as it was made to do, but it still shook the air of the hallway. I heard a click as the door shut. It was locked. I checked. It locks on the side I was on, but you still needed a key to unlock it. Such a strange design. But I guess it made sense, since it lead to a bathroom. Unfortunately, I was trapped. More, I guess. Now I was in this hallway, and I had to press on. A moment before, I wanted to leave the unsafe bathroom, but then I realized it was actually a good place to hide in. I was truly without a place to hide. Someone really could come around the corner at any moment and find me.


My clacking was louder than the door closing and locking, as I quickly marched down the hall. I knew then that I would have certainly taken the boots off if it were possible, which is why Darla made it impossible. Fifteen feet down the hundred or so foot hallway was the first door, on the right. There was a lock on it, and I was concerned it would be locked, too. If so I could not get further instructions, and would be forced to stumble around without hints what Darla wanted or how to avoid getting caught. I presumed Darla would not really let me get caught. Perhaps it was naive, but it kept me sane.


The door was not locked on the other side, but it was dead bolted on my side. After looking the part of the fool I felt and clanging into the door, and leaving a partial torso lubricant print, I slid that over and opened it. It opened inward, towards me, making me feel even more dumb. I could see a truck bay. It was a wide open area, and some of the bays were fully open, but there were many things lined against the walls. The racks and boxes and pallets would not hide me very well, if I had to hide, though. Two of the bays at the far right had truck trailers backed up to them. I hurried in case the truckers were around. Anyone could have come in through the open bay doors, too. Anyone could be lurking behind a bunch of pallets or trash bins. At least I could hide in here, unlike the hallway. It'd be very difficult, especially with the clacking boots, but it was technically possible, and that helped relieve me as much as it made me nervous a rapist was around the next stack of boxes. An already naked someone who's vagina and anus had been opened and lubricated for them could hardly put up much of a fight. I convinced myself the odds of it were poor, but it didn't reassure me much. The bay, unlike the hallway, was dark. The breeze was uninhibited and cold. I saw a piece of paper taped to the door on that side, flapping in the slow wind. I checked the hallway before retreating all the way back in. Nobody was in it, and the door shutting was louder than my boots clacking. I waited for a moment, listening for approaching footfalls, but I heard none. Back in the hallway, I couldn't tell which seemed safer. The hallway was less likely to have rapists, but it also made it impossible to hide. Either way, I stayed where I was, since I couldn't read well without the light.


As I read the note, I realized staying warm might be a problem. It could have been the cold bay, but I had goosebumps. That included my nipples, a fact that made me worried about being found by a man even more. I had never actually been scared of rape, before. Even when Darla did it, though it was rape, it wasn't as scary as the impression someone might rape you violently, without a care in the world for your safety. And I was prepared for exactly such an event. I was even worried that's what Darla had planned. I didn't consider it likely, but the fear wouldn't leave me alone. I finally distracted myself from my hard nipples and fears enough to read the now partially lubricated paper;


-bitch,


What's happening now is that you're going to go around the mall, dressed just as you are, solving riddles. Each riddle will give you a hint where the next riddle is. That is, if you solve it, it will. You will not find either me or a way out of here with your coat or car unless you solve all of the riddles. I know the person who works the cameras, so I know they do not record anything without a button first being pressed for that particular camera. This person is going to ignore your image in the monitors for all practical purposes. However, there are two security officers elsewhere in the building, and they have radios. If anyone reports seeing you, the person watching you in the cameras will report seeing you right back, and where you are, and even where you're going. You will be recorded, and, if you don't escape, possibly arrested. Unless you think of something to convince them not to call the police, haha!


The sheets of paper each riddle is written on will fit in the wrist of your gloves or a small pocket on the inside of your belt, until you find a place to dispose of them. This paper, however, must be thrown in the garbage in this bay, inside the shoe box, along with everything else in it. Your first riddle will be found on the side of the garbage bin farthest from the door you went through to get in the bay. That's also the bin you're throwing the shoe box into. The riddles will be hidden where they will not be found without being specifically looked for. You're allowed to evade the security men in any way you can think of, so long as no physical harm comes to them and you do not alter how you're dressed. This is your punishment, and the number of riddles was determined based on your disobedience. Now go, have fun.


XOXO, Your Mistress.


She couldn't be serious. This was big. This was potentially a lot of trouble I could get in. I could lose my career without my affair with Chad being exposed! Maybe. I didn't really know what kind of trouble I could get in, but I knew it was big. Then, probably not bigger than having sex with a student. Two, students, counting Darla! The worst part was that I was already stuck! I really didn't have an option! I was already in this situation. Even if I managed to storm right to where Darla was, she had a security team on her side! She could have had me arrested at any moment. I had to play the game! If I weren't so scared of getting caught, I would have screamed obscenities. I even thought that she might just be trying to get me raped. I still seriously doubted the idea, but I couldn't stop worrying. That bay seemed to scare me. Getting raped really did concern me, with regard to that room. Hobos could be in there for the night. or gang members, or simply horny, immoral truckers. Since I had no power over the situation, I opened the door back up, and the wind hit me again. I was officially cold. I picked up the box and clacked right over to the farthest garbage bin. I expected someone to jump out at me. Perhaps only to scare me, perhaps to rape me, but I walked into the trap knowing what it was. Slowly. The clacking alerted the rapist of my presence,but he never showed up. I was relieved, but I still had to go back to the door, and someone could still walk right in a bay door.


The garbage bin was one of the large ones garbage trucks lifted with the forks on their rear end. It was taller than I was. I stopped, shaking in both anger and cold..The cold wind hit me from the bay doors, and made me feel like someone was sneaking in. I looked, and nobody was, but I kept looking for a bit longer. Then I realized the longer I looked the more likely someone who would come right in would. I opened the lid as quietly as I could and tossed the box in. It landed on something soft, and so wasn't very loud. I softly closed the lid, and leaned to look at the side. Nothing. I clacked over to the other side and found the note. This note was much smaller, written on a post-it. I glanced around, worried someone sneaked in while I was walking in my loud boots, and saw that nobody had. Nobody I could see, anyhow. I ran over to the door. I tried to hold my breasts to stop them from jiggling and hurting, but they were slippery and I was freaking myself out too much to actually be concerned with that. I was more concerned with getting out of that bay. I opened the door quickly and jumped through, pulling it shut behind me. The hallway still had no place to hide, but it still felt safer than the bay. Plus, it had enough light for me to read the note I had. It said;


- bitch,


When you need to know
what you need to know
You come to me and borrow
but you can't get any dough.


XOXO, Your Mistress


The first riddle was actually really easy. It was obviously the riddle was about the library, and there was only one in the mall. I had several problems. Problem one; I didn't know where the library was. Problem two; How would I get into the library. Problem three; How do I know where to look for the riddle. The last line must be the key in that. 'Dough'. Maybe it was in a book about baking? Wherever it would be found, I might figure it out on the way, or after getting there. How I was, I wasn't making any progress at all, and I had no place to hide if one of the security guards (or worse) came this way. I began walking down the hallway. As I took my first, slow, step, I folded the note and put it in that pocket in the belt, which in fact was there. Right in the front, too. The boot clacked, softly, since I put my foot down slowly, and rolled my foot forward so that less of the boot hit the floor at the same time. Even though it was quieter than normal walking, it would take a very long time to walk around the whole mall that way. My second slow step is when I got the bright idea to look for a map. Every mall I ever went to before had a map near each entrance. I was sure I remembered such a map the last time I was here, though I was worried it might have been my imagination giving me hope even though it may be false. Either way, going to an entrance would give me sort of a corner to hide in. The middle of the mall and the large hallways were wide open and connected to the whole mall at several intersections. The corners the doors were in would eliminate some chance that someone walking down one hallway would see me when they got to such an intersection.

On my third slow step I realized that someone might see me through the doors, then. Perhaps one of the security men would be in a vehicle, driving around the parking lot, thereby increasing the odds I got seen. However, I had to find a map, and they were near the doors, so I was going there anyway. I'd deal with hiding when it was actually an option and I had an idea of the layout of my surroundings out there such that I could actually consider it. By the end of my third step, I stopped. Those steps were taking far too long. I'd never get anywhere without being caught if I walked like that because I would never get to my destination. I'd be out in the open for too long. But if I moved faster, my boots would clack loudly and draw attention to where I was via sound. For a moment, I thought I was about to have a nervous breakdown. I thought getting caught was inevitable. But then I got another idea. I could crawl. But then I realized how that would be disastrous; I had lube on my knees. I would leave a trail of it. I could wipe it off, but Darla would somehow find out, and she wanted me to keep my whole body moist with lube. I couldn't even get to a store with towels or knee pads or something because she told me not to alter how I was dressed.

The solution came to me after I almost leaned against the wall, but stopped when I realized it would remove a bunch of lube and would be a hint of my passing (even though I already left something like that on the door to the bay). My boot scuffed sideways. I could drag my feet! It was such an easy solution, I felt badly for having taken so long to think it up. I tried a practice slide, and the boot was much quieter. It still made noise, but only slightly more than when I was walking slowly, and certainly less than walking faster. The noise was different, too. It was a sliding noise instead of a clacking, but that wasn't relevant. I was either heard or I wasn't. I slid several slides before I scuffed the floor and my boot made a squeak like a sports shoe on a basketball court. I was going too fast, without spreading the force across the whole bottom of the boot. I would have to be careful about that. A few more scoots and I was to the first door on the left. It was to a candy store. I figured that the closest entrance was probably the one the bathroom I came from was off of, so the sooner I got to the hallway in front of the stores the better. I could go to the entrance I came in and look at the map there. The door was locked, though.

When I started sliding away from that door, I realized how ridiculous my slides made me look. I had to slide one foot forward and counterbalance it with my opposite arm, as though I were skating. If i were caught, it'd look like I were enjoying myself. Oh well, I had to get where I was going somehow, and the lack of hiding places in that hallway was starting to get to me. Especially since I was still making noise, just not as much as I would by walking. With how otherwise quiet the mall was, I was still concerned primarily about the noise I was making. I slid to the next door on the left and tried it. It, too was locked. Before the next door on the left, there was a cranny on the right. In the cranny, a flight of stairs led up to a another flight around a corner. There was no elevator, so the only way could go up the stairs was by making a lot of noise or going very slowly. The elevator dinging would be noisy, anyway. The stairs wouldn't get me to my destination anyway, so why take the risk? Well, they could have maybe gotten me to the other side of the stores, to the main hallway, but I had no idea to suspect it'd be faster than the way I was already going.

The next door on the left was locked, as was the next few. At the end of the hall, however, there was a double door. It was unlocked. Since it was my best option, between it and going upstairs, I pressed the right door open. Some air rushed by to remind me how naked I was. I held the door ajar so I could see outside of it. It was a secondary entrance into the mall. I was in a hallway larger than the one I was currently in, but not nearly as large as a primary hallway with stores lined on either side. A buzz from the other side of the door hinted at vending machines, another double door was across the way from me, and a primary hall was a hundred or so feet to my left. I realized, then, how the hallway I was in was actually much cozier than the one I was about to go into. I had doors blocking the way, and I could retreat to the stairs if I saw someone coming this way. Maybe it was the masks illusion, but I figured I had to keep going, or else I would just be stuck where I was all night, into the morning.

I got up the courage to go through the doors and emerge on the other side. To my right a few yards were doors to outside. Glass doors. The hallway I was then in was darker than the one I was in before it, but it was darker outside still. I couldn't see outside, but I could tell cars were going by on the road, across the parking lot. It made be feel intensely exposed. Anyone could come to the doors, or even look from quite a ways away, and see me standing around in the buff. And what if a security man came down the hallway I was headed to and found me while I was staring stupidly at the dark doors? I hurriedly slid down the hallway, to the larger, more open one. Fortunately, it wasn't well lit, what with the mall being closed. It did feel like the shadows slid off of my wet body, but I knew better. I slid along the right wall, since the right end of the major hallway is where someone would most likely be coming from. As I neared the major hallway I realized just how big it was, and just how visible I'd be walking in it. Stores lined the sides, and there were benches, trees, kiosks, or even sales tents along the middle. Those would give me something to hide behind, but there's still the matter of how noisy the boots are. And if I duck or drop to my knees, I'd leave a trail of lube. Without hiding behind things, though, my white outline would be obvious against the dark background of the hallway. If I'm not careful and I get seen from behind before I can hide, that's it, I can't be unfound.

I got to the end of the hallway, scooting slower as I got close, and I peered left as I neared the corner. Seeing nothing to the left, I slowly moved forward. I got to the very edge of the hallway, almost hugging the right wall, and I glanced around the corner. There was a major intersection of primary halls about a hundred yards down that way, which is the same distance it was to the end of the hall towards the right. There were four benches facing out from a fountain in the center of that intersection, but it was off, so I couldn't count of the water flow drowning out the sound of my boots. Not seeing anyone, I slid a foot forward. As soon as I was about to slide my other foot, I heard something. Footsteps. Soft footsteps, with soft soles. Someone was down the hall to the right. I looked again as I slid my foot back. Nobody. But the foot steps were getting louder. Someone had to be left or right of that intersection. As the footsteps approached, I slid back as far as i could while poking a bit of my head out to watch. My heart was racing. If someone did come around that corner and I could not retreat fast enough, they'd hear my heartbeat.

A man in a security uniform was walking from the right of the intersection to the left. He seemed young, healthy, and able to catch criminals who might try to run or fight. He walked slowly. It would be more accurate to say he was strolling. It made me think that either he had no idea I was around somewhere, or he was toying with me. He was on the far side of the fountain, and he looked down the hallway to his right, then swung his head the opposite way, to look down the hallway the direction I was in. I quickly pulled my head back behind the wall and got closer to it. I wanted to hug the wall, but knew I'd just leave a mark indicating I was there. I listened to the footsteps. Did the man hear me? Where would I go if the man came that way? I needed to find where I needed to go, and I needed a mall map to do that. But I know I can't get to the doors I'm trying to get to in the back hallway, and I don't know where the other other back hallway doors I can get to from here lead to. I could try to make it up the stairs, too, but I don't know what that would accomplish. As I thought about this, I could hear the man's footsteps fade away. I glanced down the way he was again, and I did not see him. I looked the other way, in case I got tricked somehow, and then listened intently to the foot steps. They were getting too light to hear.

I didn't want to go when someone was so close to the intersection and so might come back and see me, but I didn't know how long that part of the hallway he was in was, so I slid my feet as quickly as I could without squeaking them on the polished floor. That was my plan, anyhow. I actually went slowly. I tried not to make any sounds, but the boots had different plans. It seemed to me that they were making more noise than the security man's shoes did, so I got behind a kiosk and hid behind it. I glanced around it for a bit, but the security officer didn't seem to be coming to find me. I had to just hope he wouldn't hear me go the rest of the way. I scooted towards the entrance. I realized it was the main entrance I was going to, so it would be sure to have map if any entrance did. I thought I could feel eyes on my back, but whenever I looked behind me I couldn't see anyone.

The main entrance is essentially a long series of glass doors, with a lot of windows around them. They lead into the food court. The front of the mall is a huge, wide open space, excluding the tables, with restaurants all around it. Before the hallway widened into the food court, though, I heard something from ahead of me and to the right. It was a man talking, followed by a split second of static. Which meant there was a security guard ahead of me, in the food court, right where I was headed. Which would mean both of the two security guards just happened to be in the area I was! My heart skipped a beat, then made up for the skipped beat by accelerating I was scared this security guard might hear my heart if he got close enough, and my boots if he didn't! I looked behind me one more time to see if it was a trick, to see if the first security guard was behind me and they had formed a pincer attack on me. He wasn't, but it hit me that I was naked, and a man was about to find me. Just because he was a security guard doesn't mean he wouldn't take advantage of a situation like that. I felt vulnerable and exposed.

I don't know how far away the new security guard was, but I couldn't count on him staying that far. He had a whole mall to patrol, he wouldn't stay in the corner of the food court all night. The pizza place was the next store to my right, and it makes up the 45 degree corner that opens up into the wide food court, but it had the metal fence down, as did McDonald's on the left corner. There was a cell phone booth in the center of the main hall, but it wasn't very tall and it had a lot of glass. Some benches were behind it, and plants behind them. There was the kiosk I hid behind earlier behind that, and all the stores I could see down this hall had their gates down. My best bet was to head back to where I came from, the secondary entrance hallway, and then into the back hallways, but if the guard came this way he'd certainly see me on my way there, since I'm sure he'd be to the hallway by then. I started to think of how to react when this guard inevitably caught me, but then I realized I wasn't trying. I was making it inevitable by standing around stupidly. So I hurriedly scooted behind to the phone booth, considering what to tell the guard as I went.

I got all the way to the booth without seeing him or hearing him shout at me, so I hoped I did not get caught. I quickly crouched so that I was under where the guard could see me if he was on the other side of the booth. That's when I realized my problem. If, when the guard came down the hallway to actually patrol the mall, he would choose one of the two sides of the booth to walk on. He was on the right of the food court, but does that necessarily mean he'd walk on the right of the booth, or would he move to the left side to increase his scope, his view, on things? I would have to get to one of the two sides soon, before he came this way, because I would need to take time to not make much noise with my boots. But if I choose the wrong side, or if the other guard crosses the intersection while I'm in on the opposite side of the booth as the other guard, then I'm caught! I got up just enough to peer over the edge of the booth, to see if the guard was in sight. Sure enough, he was. He looked remarkably similar to the other guard in the dark. He was standing at the doors, watching out them. I could also see, to his right, was a large sign, a map of the mall.

Which side to choose? What if the first guard came back through the intersection and I was on one side even before the other guard came through? The guard who was looking out the window turned and started approaching the hallway. Even if I hid on the right side, what if the first guard was on the second floor and coming this way? The second floor is basically just a walkway in front of the stores on the second story. I simply couldn't hide from anyone up there. Not behind this short booth. I had to hope that these things didn't happen, though. I decided on the left side. I had a nagging sensation that it was the wrong choice, but it was better than no choice. I slowly scooted left, to the corner of the booth. I could now hear the guard's footfalls coming my way. I finished my maneuver slowly. I was scared my slowness may get me caught, but it's better than squeaking my shoe and drawing attention anyway. I got to the other side of the booth, and moved a few more slides farther. I heard the man walk by on the other side of the booth. If I weren't so nervous that he might have been walking around the whole booth, I might have sighed in relief. But he did not come to that side of the booth. I heard him continue past walking slowly, calmly.

After a few moments, when I could see the back of his head just past the plants. He was still on that side of the hall, but I wasn't scooted so that I couldn't see the hallway. If I could see him, he could see me. I hoped he didn't turn around. I waited a moment, then scooted slowly, further along the booth. I scooted a few tiles down, and I could no longer see him. But if I stayed there, it would just happen when he got farther down the hall. And if he turned right, he'd see me anyway. I continued scooting slowly. To avoid him seeing me if he got further down the hallway, in the right spot, and just happened to look, I squatted down as flat as I could, and as close to the glass of the booth as I could get without touching it. My legs were spread to either side to facilitate it, and I realized nothing would be left to the imagination if I were caught now. Though I suppose it wouldn't have been before. It just feels different when your legs are spread and things are easy to see compared to when you have the option of closing them. But I guess the booth wasn't looking at me, anyhow.

I got to the end of the booth facing the food court, and I got up enough to watch the guard walk all the way down, past the intersection. I lost the ability to hear his footfalls even before he got to the intersection, so that wasn't a reliable way to tell if the guards were near enough to see me. As I watched him walk, I could feel the wide open space behind me. It doesn't really hit you how vulnerable and open you feel being naked in public until you actually do it. I was ashamed of the crouched position I was in, how if someone were behind me they could just bend a little and see everything I normally took care to hide. And the cool air plus the liberal application of the lubricant made it all the more apparent to me. But the guard wasn't yet somewhere out of sight. If I moved from this position to cover up more, he would probably see me and negate all the work I put into covering up my nakedness. I wished I could just get into a clothes store and put something on. Sneaking around the mall after dark would be scary enough if I were covered, but nude I was too keenly aware of how immoral and sexually disturbed some people could be, especially considering I was were I was due to exactly such a person.

The guard got to the end of the main hallway, finally, and walked around the booths and benches at the end, to continue walking the other direction and on the other side of the hallway. Now there wasn't even any question about it. If I tried to leave where I was, he'd surely see me. He was walking my way. I ducked a bit lower, scared he might be able to see me through the glass, but unable to look away. If he were coming my way and he saw me, it wouldn't matter if I ducked farther, but if I duck so low that I couldn't see him, then he could sneak up on me even by accident, simply by walking all the rest of the way down the hall. Why did I ever leave the relative safety of the back hallways?! I could have walked around not knowing where I was going, but I wouldn't have found the guards and been trapped so quickly! At least I knew where they were, both down the hall from me. Which wasn't as reassuring as I had hoped. I heard a staticy voice come from down the hall, and then a moment of static. The guard I was watching held his radio to his face, said something, and then a moment of static. For some reason, being unable to make out what was being said bothered me. Had the other guard asked if this one found me? Did they know I would be around? Are they normally so apt to patrol and actually do their job? But then wouldn't one of them be in the back hallways? Or did they know I'd have to pass through the major hallways anyway? What had Darla told them? How did she know the person who worked the cameras? Was that person watching me right now? Was Darla? My splayed out position bothered me even more, realizing someone could probably see it. The air had bad timing. Once I had that thought, I felt a slight breeze fly by, reminding me that nothing was covering me from behind. And there were assuredly cameras in the dinning area.

The guard turned! He turned to his left, my right, as he got to the main intersection! Now that I was too far from it to hear them coming, I hesitated going to the door. But then I realized their patrol would probably not have them near the intersection at the same time, so right after I see one of them in the intersection it was probably the most opportune time to stop hiding behind the phone displays. I stood slowly, trying not to move my boots without orienting myself to a standing position. The boots were still loud, though. What if he heard me slide and glanced back around the corner he was still near? Or what if he was coming back down here, but he stopped by a store just off the intersection to look in for a moment? My head was getting a little light, but I had to move. Much too slowly. Sliding was faster than the slow walk I tried earlier, but it still wasn't as fast as walking. By the time I slide ten feet away and to the side of the booth, I realized if he did round the corner there was no way for me to just duck and be hidden. Instead of going for the corner the pizza place was on, and around the corner, out of view of people down the hall, I should have gone backwards towards the tables. Then, if either of the guards got to the intersection, I could duck behind a chair and hope the tables and other chairs obfuscated their view. But in the middle of the open I was instead. Oh well, I had to soldier on.

After getting past the corner and out of view of the hallway, I looked around the food court to look for the best hiding places. From the hallway, the food court opened with walls that were a 45 degree angle from the walls of the hallway. They opened the area to about a hundred feet, then turned back in 45 degrees to come directly at the front wall, closing the area. But they didn't actually close the area. At each of the corners where the walls stopped their 45% divergence, there were hallways. Not large ones, perhaps half the size of the main hallway I was just in. But that meant that this could hardly be considered a cornerish place for me to hide in! Three hallways lead here, and they almost assuredly attach to the larger one that crosses the one I just left. I should have known about those, since the bathrooms are down the one on the right! Actually, the one leading to the hallways stopped at a dead end, if I wasn't mistaken, so maybe the other did, as well. I had to scoot by it to get to the map anyhow so I could look down it as I passed. The room also had two pillars on either side. I felt thankful, I could hide behind them in a pinch, but how slow I had to move to avoid being noisy would still hinder such a thing anyhow. There were no nooks or crannies to hide in, unless you count the restaurants But they all had their fences down and I couldn't get into them anyhow. As I slid past the hallway, I could see the stores lining it, and at the end was a larger hallway at a strange angle. The hallway the one I came from crosses, undoubtedly. There was a raised area with plants, and benches around it.

What if that first guard I saw was also the second? They looked similar enough, it might have been! He could have easily turned, came down this hallway, and then turned back down the primary one. And it would explain why he came from the right (though it was left, looking at it over here)! I quickly scooted past the hallway and glanced around, scared the other guard might be somewhere I didn't bother looking because I didn't think he could get there. I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to the doors. The doors were glass, and I could see the empty parking lot. Not all the way empty, I could see my car. I came in the doors far to the left of my current position. Were the guard curious why it was there, or did they know? I wished I could just leave through the doors and go to my car. There would assuredly be more background noise outside, and less flat surfaces for the noise to echo off of. I might even have left the emergency key taped up under the driver's side door. No, that was stupid, I knew I removed that because it would make it easier for a potential thief to get into my car. And even if I unlocked and opened the doors, there was probably some sort of alarm in place, and it would go off if the doors were opened. It might deactivate if the door is unlocked, which i could do from this side of them, but I simply didn't know how alarms worked, and knew it'd be a bad choice. I didn't want to alert the police to my presence myself! And if it were a silent alarm, I wouldn't even know they were on their way. If I hid somewhere they couldn't find me, somehow, my car's in the parking lot, and that would be suspicious at least.

I stopped looking through the doors. That hope was thoroughly dashed. Besides, if another car did drive by the front of the mall, whoever was in it would certainly see me. I had to look at the map and hurry away from the huge windows. The map showed only the large hallways that customers are supposed to use, and the locations of stores along them. I was never great at map reading, but this was a very simple map. The mall was basically a large X,but it had a few smaller hallways and large store wings off to the sides of each major branch. At the end I was at there was the food court and bathrooms, plus the information desk. The largest part of the parking lot was outside from where I was. I found the library down the major hall, then right down the other major hall, near the doors at the end. It was on the right of the hall. If I had simply followed the back hallways the way I was going initially, I would have eventually found it. I don't know where else Darla was sending me, but I felt dumb for leaving the safety of the back hallways. There was a chance she was going to have me circle the primary hallways the whole way.

I couldn't hang out by the doors all night, as I would surely get caught in my humiliating state, so I started sliding towards the mess of tables and chairs. I was outside of ducking range from the pillars, but I would soon be able to hide behind the chairs and tables. By the time I was into the thick of the tables, I could see down all three hallways, and basically the whole front parking lot could see me. I did not like that at all. If the guards got to either the main intersection or the one at the odd angle, they'd be able to see me, as well as anyone outside. Even if I did leave a trail of lubricant, I had to crawl to avoid being such an easy to find pray. I crouched like I was earlier, placed my hands on the floor, and then slowly moved forward, allowing my knees to contact the floor while moving the boots as little as possible. At first, my left knee slid out from under me. I slapped the ground as I caught myself and that leg shot out straight, but I managed to avoid my boots clicking the ground. But the slap seemed very loud. I hurried my leg back under me and positioned myself behind a table in a way to avoid being seen form either hallway. I listened for a few moment, but I couldn't hear anything or anyone, so I figured I should hurry up. My knees slid the first few feet, but then they didn't have enough lubricant on them to keep doing it, so they were actually quite sturdy, so long as I held my boots up at just the right angle. Every time I crawled from behind one table to another, I thought I'd glance to the side and see a guard much closer than I hoped, watching me. But that never happened, and I made it to the edge of the tables.

My route was parallel the windows, to the other side of the food court. If I had gone to the hallway at an angle, I wouldn't be going the right direction. If I went down the primary hallway, one of the guards would likely get to the intersection before I got to the small side hallway. Or, at least, the one guard I've seen. Where was the other one? I didn't have time to worry about that. I slowly stood back up, careful not to clack the boots. They clacked softly anyway, but then I hurriedly slid across the open space, towards the hall with the bathrooms. My boots squeaked once, but I was already to the hallway and didn't bother looking to see if anyone was around to hear it. I hurried to the women's bathroom under the assumption it wasn't locked. They would have to stay open if one of the security officers was a lady, right? Well, that assumption paid off. The bathroom was unlocked and I hurried inside.

I didn't want to be too noisy while in the bathroom, because then a passing guard would realize someone was in there and probably check it out. I slid to in front of a mirror. I felt like a robber with the mask, but I sure didn't look like it. I was still goosebumpy and cold, which had somehow slipped my mind. The eyes behind the mask were red. I thought this whole time that I'd look like I had been crying, but anyone who found me this way would probably just assume I was high or drunk or something. Even though I was still very shiny, some lubricant had dried. I took off my gloves and placed them on the sink. I scooped up some lube from my thighs to reapply to my knees, and enough remained to get where it was dry elsewhere. I think it lasted so long because it was so extraordinarily viscous. I did not like how gooey it made me feel between my legs, and what little bit I scooped up didn't do anything to change that.

As much as I wanted to hide in the bathroom all night, I would eventually be found if I didn't move. Even if I were found by patrons to the mall the next day, it would happen. I would have to leave and go to work eventually. I hoped to get that horrible game over with that night. Through the door I started this whole thing through, I was back in that first back hallway. I slid quickly past the door to the bay, because it still made me incredibly uneasy. The thought to go upstairs crossed my mind as I got to them, but I wasn't sure how much back hallway there would be up there, and I knew where I had to go anyway. I had to go to somewhere on the first floor. I'm sure I only thought it because the concept of a different floor would get me farther from where I saw the only guard I saw. I was still concerned about where the second guard was, but I figured I'd either find him or I wouldn't, so there was no use worrying. It didn't stop me from worrying, but I had the thought anyway. I was also curious if there were camera in the back hallways. I looked up and down the hallway and, yes, there was one camera at each end. And I knew someone was watching me through them.

And it hit me that Darla had to be watching the cameras. I couldn't know if it was only her, but that would explain why the person watching didn't report seeing me as well as how Darla would know if I did something against her commands. The vile bitch! Not that I liked her using me like a sex toy, but couldn't she have stuck to just that?! Or, better yet, couldn't she have been a decent person and simply not be doing any of this. I wanted to find where she was so I could go punch her out, which was a new sensation for me. By the time I got to the double door, though, all my anger had started turning into depression. I guess anger is against my nature. I tend not to get angry a lot, now that I thought of it. I couldn't finish that stupid, horrible game when I thought about such things, and I had been doing such a good job avoiding it up until that point. I shoved those thoughts out of my head as I opened the door. I looked around and could neither hear nor see anything, so I scooted over to the double doors across the hall. As I suspected, it opened into another back hallway.

I found the cameras, two in this hallway as well. This hallway had a sharp corner, though. After several hundred feet and another stairwell, it turned 90 degrees right. It looked just like the hallway I left behind as I checked around the corner. It had no place to hide if someone came along like the rest, but I wasn't risking it out in the main halls, either. Besides, there were stairwells. I could have technically hidden I them, if I could get to one fast enough. At the end of the hall was another double door. Ten feet before it was a door to both the right and left. The door on the right was labeled as the boiler room. I imagined it would be closer to the bathrooms, but I've never designed a building. The one on the left was the important one. It was the library. My anxiety built up as I reached for the door handle. I hoped it was unlocked, or else how would I get in to find the next clue? The gate was assuredly shutting it from the front, and there were no notes in the hallway or the door jam. I pressed the lever down and pulled.

It opened! It clicked loudly,and I guess I didn't really expect the door to open, so I landed heavily on my right foot as I moved with it, making an even louder clicking. I didn't bother to waste time listening to see if someone heard it, because I could disappear into the library so even if they did hear me, I'd have disappeared from that hallway! I slunk into the library, almost tripping over the edge of the carpet. Oh, beautiful carpet! I shut the door as softly as I could while still being fast, and it wasn't nearly as quite as I'd hoped. If someone did hear me before, they'd know I went into a door. I just hoped nobody heard me or they didn't try the door I went into. I waited on the other side of the door for a while, listening for anyone approaching. Nobody did, so I calmed down and looked around. I was in the back room of the library, which was mostly just filing cabinets and a few desks with computers, and the safe in the corner. I walked to the other side of the room to look out the doorway, for there was no door, into the main section of the library. It was a very small library, just a branch of the larger, main city library, probably. It had books along one wall, but the other wall had mostly movies and music CDs, while the room was mostly filled with computers.

I hadn't thought how wide open the library would be. When I think of a library, I think of rows and rows of book shelves. This was hardly that. The gate keeping people out of the library was down, but it didn't do anything stop people from looking in. At least I could walk normally! The carpeting was very welcome indeed! The guards would actually make more noise than I would! Hoping I could hear them if they were getting closer to the library, I walked over to the book wall and started looking for baking books, or anything about bread. On this side of the library there was the main desk, where people checked things out. If I heard someone coming, I could easily duck behind it before someone saw me. I still felt exposed, but I had what I thought was a sound plan! The library didn't make me comfortable. I was still very anxious and miserable, but it wasn't as bad! I found two whole cook books, one book about baking,and even one book about bread. I was relieved finding those books was so easy, but there were no loose papers in any of them, and no notes behind, near, or under them.

That's when I noticed the register. I was about to pace about, totally baffled, but I saw a post-it on the only register in the library. Dough... as an idiom for money. Something you don't borrow from libraries. The desk was U shaped, the ends of the U against the wall. The door to it was fortunately against the wall on my side, so I just walked right in, got the post it, and walked to the back room. Once I got to the back room, I read the note;

bitch-

It's usually dark
but the focus is on light
Placed on pop-corn
the ninth word is not right


XOXO, Your Mistress

Okay, this one was much, much harder. That is, until I made the association. What kind of store would usually be dark while focusing on light? It baffled me. I thought maybe a novelty store or some other place that might sell lamps or lighted signs. But then I realized the big tip-off was the pop corn. You eat pop corn at movie theaters, where you watch light projected onto a screen, in a dark room. Then I counted the words, and "light" was the ninth. Placed on pop-corn, it's not light. Not light pop-corn. So I was pretty sure my next clue would be on or near the thing that put butter on pop-corn at the movie theater. And, fortunately for me, I remembered seeing the movie theater at the end of the main hallway, the apposite end as the food court. It, too, was on the right side of the hall. In my head, it seemed all I'd have to do is walk across the hall to the doors to the back hallway on the other side of this main hall, then fallow that back hallway like I did this one that got me to the library.

I stood by the door for a moment before opening it. I was both hesitant to leave the relative safety of the library as much as I was listening intently to anything that might be near. I couldn't hear anything, so I tucked the new post it into my belt and slowly opened the door. I was actually quiet this time, and I slowly stepped on foot onto the concrete of the hallway floor. It was quiet, as I planned, but that single step took a very long time. I looked down the hallway and towards the double doors again just to be safe, and then tried to scoot my other foot out onto the concrete. Since the carpet was a bit higher, the boot slid off the carpet and clacked on the harder floor. The hallway echoed it, and I paused to listen and wait again. Nobody came after a few moments, so I slid my foot the rest of the way, easing it onto the harder floor. I shut the door slowly behind me, and succeeded in shutting it quietly. I slid over to the double doors, remembering how awkward that method of mobility was. But it functioned, and I got there. These doors opened near a secondary entrance. I was facing the wall to a large supermarket attached to the mall, and I was in the hallway between it and the stores of the big hallway. This minor hallway had only this entrance to the back hallways, pay phones, a few water fountains, and the entrances on either end.

I slid to the corner and looked into the large main hallway. Aside normal booths, kiosks, benches and whatever, it seemed nobody was around. I started to scoot out into the open area, across the hallway, but I looked down the hall a second time right before I did. The doors on either end of this smaller pseudo hallway were glass, which meant people outside could see me. I doubted many if any people were outside the mall and trying to look inside at the moment, but I hate taking chances. I had to get to the double doors on the other side of the main hallway from me, down at the other end of this pseudo hallway I was in that 'T'ed the larger one. I looked one more time, just to be safe. Nobody was down the hallway on either floor. I started to cross the open area, watching for someone down the hall more than people outside. The people outside couldn't get in to bother me directly, but I still worried about them. I saw nobody as I scooted, and I made it to the other side. I scooted the rest of the way to the double doors as quickly as I could. I pressed on the bar thing, and leaned into it, but it didn't move. The bar thing across it didn't go in. The door was locked!

I stood stupidly for a moment, not understanding how to operate since my plan had failed at the door. Then I realized how stupid I was and tried the right of the double doors. It, too was locked. I didn't remember any ways out of the back hallway I had come from besides the ones I used, so I would have to actually walk down the main hallway. If I went back to where I was last time through the back hallway, I'd still have to go through the main hallway, except through a place that would be even more wide open than this way. Maybe I could find a way back there, or even upstairs, part way down the main hall. I started scooting back across the hallway when I realized the store on the corner I was at had glass for a store front. I could see through the corner of the store, and at a guard who was a few hundred feet down the hallway, walking down the left side.

I quickly scooted back, as near the wall as I could get. I scooted until I got to the double doors, and I tried to sink into the small depression that they were in the wall. I didn't mind leaving a lube mark on the doors if that meant avoiding immediate capture, but the doors simply weren't set in far enough to hide there. I only sunk a few inches. To make matters worse, I clunked the handle. It wasn't very loud, but it was certainly more noise than I wanted to make in that situation. My heart increased it's tempo and volume, it was warmer, and the world tried to spin. I held the world from spinning. I had to focus. I concentrated on breathing deeply. I couldn't afford to faint.

By then, I could hear the guard's footsteps approaching. Why would the doors be locked?! I thought Darla would leave me a way to get where I was going with reduced chances of getting caught! But, then, why would she have me do this at all except to get caught? What was she up to? Had she meant for the doors to be unlocked and a guard locked it up when they realized it was unlocked? Are these doors normally locked? I didn't have time to worry about that, the footsteps were coming closer. I leaned into the doors one last time, hoping hopelessly that they'd open up that time. They didn't. The foot steps were dangerously close, and I could see the guard through the corner glass of the store on the corner. One more step and he'd see me. I stopped breathing. I hoped that if I blended into the wall, if I was quiet enough, he would still not notice me.

He took one more step. I don't know if it was my breath or the air current, but a breeze moved along my body, reminding me one of the reasons I didn't want to get caught. The man took another step, and the world tried to turn again. I focused, but not as well as I'd have liked to. I stayed conscious. the man took a third step before turning his head in my direction. He looked confused. His next few steps were towards me. Then he moved faster, almost jogging. He stopped a few feet from me. He had a huge grin on his face. I recognized him, too. He was Jake, the man who I had met at the entrance to this mall last week. He said he worked here, but I could have sworn he said he works at a store, not as security. My vision started fading, and the world finally spun around me. Jake got very tall, very fast, it seemed. And then it my thoughts faded and it was dark.

Hero

I came to with a start. I always expected to have a headache after waking up from fainting, but I was actually just groggy and disoriented. The very first thing I noticed was that my arms were stuck behind me. Having your limbs stuck is alarming, so I lifted my head and looked around to try to orient myself. I was in a small but bright room. The brightness was very different from the ambient dark of the mall, and I couldn't place where I was. The walls were an off white, the lights were florescent, and the only real furnishings were a single desk, a few filing cabinets on either side of the desk, and a large comfortable chair in front of me. The chair was in front of where you'd scoot in to the desk. I was in a metal folding chair, and the door to the room was to my left, and shut. I had less lube on me in some places, but most notable was how much had gotten on the chair. Every movement I made was exaggerated and made me slide a little. The only reason I was still in the chair instead of slid onto the floor was because my hands were hand-cuffed behind me so that my arms caught. I was still wearing everything I was before, except now I was in this room and with hands cuffed behind the back of the chair, too.

My right arm was falling asleep but I could still feel it, so I must not have been there long. I pulled my legs together and pushed myself into a proper sitting position. I was even more helpless and exposed than I was before fainting. Still just as naked, except now my arms were forced behind me and unable to protect anything that happened up front, and it pressed my chest out a bit. I was also still cold, unfortunately. I managed to keep myself calm, but I was very concerned about how I got there and when someone might come back to check on me, or worse. I didn't feel like I had been violated since I was in the bathroom, so that was a half-relief. I considered if I could get out of the chair without dumping myself backwards and possibly injuring myself. I had basically no resistance on the seat itself and very little on the back. The only reason I could maintain my position was because I was pushing with my feet and holding the back of the seat with my hands. I feared moving even slightly might send me into an awkward position and then the chair might tumble over. I was surprised I was still in the chair when I came to.

Right as I was trying to figure out a way to get out of the chair without injuring myself or making a racket, the door opened. I pressed my legs together a little more firmly, but my breathing became sharper. I was exposed and at the mercy of Jake, the mall security guard walking through the door. Would he call the police? Would I get thrown in jail, perhaps prison? Could I still maintain my life with whatever the punishment would be? If he didn't call the police, would he molest me? I've never been ignorant of the fact I'm pretty, which is something I worked out daily and ate a balanced diet to maintain, but I never really considered it might also be a weakness. If I were ugly, none of this would have ever been a problem. But I was also concerned with my health. My looks have never been supremely important to me, but I had never supposed they'd cause such a mess.

"You know, I didn't really expect to find you," said Jake as he walked confidently over to the chair in front of me. His uniform had some big, shiny, dark smudges all over it, "Firstly, I didn't expect her to be telling the truth about it. I thought it was some elaborate joke. But even if it wasn't, I simply didn't suppose I'd have the fortune of finding you."

My suspicions were correct, the guards did know I would be around. There's no way a mall guard would have patrolled so well, normally. What all did they know? What did Darla tell them? Do they know I'm doing this because I'm forced to, or did she allow them to believe I was a thrill seeker and sexual deviant? If the guards thought I was doing this for my own pleasure, and have not called the police yet... I never suspected I'd want to get in trouble with the police, but right then I wasn't sure which would be preferable. And did Jake recognize me from our short encounter a week ago? He couldn't see my face now, but I wasn't wearing too much more the week before. Perhaps he recognized my body. The body I could do nothing to hide from his lecherous gaze, which I noticed right then. If only I could have placed my hands in front of my chest! No, I got the impression he did not call the police. He was going to molest me somehow. I tensed, pressing my legs together even tighter, and my heart was beating quickly again. No matter how tightly I pressed my legs together, I could feel the slimy lube in and around my vulva and anus, reminding me that I was ready for the molestation.

"I don't know the details of your game, but I do know that you're allowed to try to escape from us if you're caught. I think that you're in a mighty tight pickle, though. There's no way you could escape from me with your hands cuffed behind your back like that. Not with the door shut and locked. And you certainly couldn't overpower me normally. So here's my idea; If you would rather continue your game then have me call the police on you, you're going to suck my dick."

I almost lost my orientation, as though I was going to faint again, but not quite enough. More like I couldn't believe what he just said. It was as though I couldn't accept what just happened, and so tried to wake up from the dream that wasn't happening. I wanted to reply to him, to ask him just to let me go, to find my car keys and help me escape this nightmare, but I knew that was even more unrealistic. And if I did talk to him that way, Darla would find out. Besides, talking would make everything seem more real, somehow. If I didn't say anything, I could continue pretending I was someone else, somewhere else, with the aid of the ski mask I had on.

"You're not talking? Fine, spread your legs so I get a good view of your cunt.", Jake commanded, smiling as though this were just a game, as though we were lovers role playing. But I couldn't just expose myself to someone who was practically a total stranger like that. I was waiting for something. I'm not sure what. Did I presume he was joking? Did I think Darla would come save me? She's the one who got me into that situation, why would she save me?! I guess I hesitated too long, because Jake just sat back and grinned. He seemed to think for a moment. He pulled something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of him for me to see. I recognized them from some recent research I had been doing. What he held were called "nipple clamps". The name says it all. They were small clamps connected with a thin chain.

"You're going to spread your legs and suck my dick right now, or else I'm going to put these on you," Jake said. The cold was retreating, but I shivered still. He couldn't have presumed I was here for any reason besides my desire to be in such a situation. If he knew the truth, if any random person knew the truth, they'd try to help me. Instead, he dangled BDSM toys in front of me, threatening me with their use if I didn't please him sexually. But the way I was dressed, why would anyone presume anything different? I don't know if I was frozen in fear or because I was still trying to disbelieve what was happening, but Jake stood up and opened one of the clamps. I certainly didn't want clamps on my nipples, so I looked away and slowly opened my legs to a 30 degree angle. I tried to relax, but I couldn't un-tense my muscles. I was scared. I was helpless, nude in front of a man I knew nothing about, hands cuffed behind me, and unable move for fear of finding myself hurt or even injured by falling oddly.

Jake had made it to me. He was between my knees, and he gently pulled on my chin, until I was looking at his eyes, "You should know that it's already too late, and you should also know that your legs aren't spread far enough." He moved his hand from my chin to my right breast. His hand slid on it but he held it at the base, holding the rest of it steady. I wanted to resist, but the fact of my tight spot remained. I was still helpless, and resisting would only, perhaps, enrage him. The clamp bit down slowly, but it rested at it's maximum force. It was literally pinching my nipple, and would not, could not, stop. I breathed sharply inward, half gasping and half squealing Then he held my left breast, as my right nipple warmed up. I looked at it, and it was white immediately around where it was getting pinched, but redder than normal around that area. Then I felt the clamp bite down on my left nipple. I thought I could better prepare for it after experiencing the first clamp, but I was wrong. I gasped again. When Jake's hands left my chest, I tried to wiggle the clamps off, but that was a mistake. Wiggling did two things. First and foremost, it caused the clamps and the chain connecting them to tug on my nipples in strange, painful ways. Secondly, I almost lost my footing and fell off the side of the chair. I had to grab the corners of the back of the seat and spread my feet farther to steady myself.

While distracted by the clamps, Jake grabbed my hips and pulled forward. It was a simple matter to slide me, despite my clenched legs, and the process pulled my legs open farther, to perhaps a 90degree angle. I was open and physically, if not emotionally, ready for what Jake was planning! I came close to losing my footing entirely, but managed to keep it and not slide the rest of the way off the chair. In addition, my arms were pulled back tighter, forcing my breasts forward more. The clamps jiggled, but not significantly enough to alter how uncomfortable they already were. I looked up to Jake, wondering what was next. To my surprised, he had a thoughtful, soft expression. "You're really nervous about this, aren't you, Lisa?"

He knew my name! He knew who I was! Immediately, the mask's alternate persona guise fled. I was me, I was exposed, vulnerable, and in real danger! My breathing picked up pace and sharpened, and I held back tears so that I could continue seeing, but it wasn't easy. He continued, in a softer tone than he had been using, "I'll tell you what; since we haven't gotten to know one another, we shouldn't be doing this just yet. I'm still interested, and I'm very curious about the details of your position, but your comfort in all of this is also very important. Frankly, it doesn't seem I've earned your trust, yet. And how could I have? I was foolish to think you'd actually be ready for this. So is Darla. She's too inexperienced for this, I think. But don't let me try to persuade you away from her without giving it a fair chance. I'm not going to try to manipulate you, that would be wrong. However, I do want to get to know you better and try to persuade you some things in a more comfortable setting, so let me get those cuffs off of you."

Sitting through that small speech, I had a difficult time comprehending even the what he was refering to, exactly. My emotions tied themselves in knots all over my belly. What was he saying? What was he doing? Not try to manipulate me? He was getting the cuffs off of me? Of course he thought I was here by will. Not ready for this? What did he think I was up to? What did he think Darla was up to? As thoughts raced through my mind at the speed of sound, Jake retrieved his keys, walked behind me, and un-cuffed me. I was too nervous and confused to know how to react, but knowledge didn't effect it. I pressed up against the back of the seat where I was holding it. This propelled me up and forward, allowing me to balance on my newly spread legs. I quickly closed my legs and turned around. I don't know what emotions might have been showing through the mask, but I know I didn't contain them all. I was still concerned about the clamps, but I only crossed my arms under my breasts in false hope that it'd alleviate some of the pressure. I didn't want to make Jake change his mind by removing them, after all. I was still confused over his motivation, and I didn't want to ruin what chances it seemed I was getting.

Jake still seemed softer than before, and he walked over to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and rubbed deeply, but slowly and softly. His hands were strong, "You're a nervous wreck. This was obviously a bad idea. Tell you what; I'll let you get out of here and keep going with your strange game, if you let me take you out on a date tomorrow."

He kept massaging my shoulders, waiting for a reply. This was the most awkward way to ask me out, ever. I don't know why I said yes. I wanted to get out of there, yes, and I doubted I even could have said anything besides yes. That was undeniable. However, Jake had shown me real caring. He even kissed me after I agreed to the date. He had saved me what was supposed to be a punishment for getting caught, or whatever. I was intensely thankful for that. Even though the clamps were still on and I was too nervous to take them off, I agreed to the date and, I think, even looked forward to it. Jake walked me to the door as a possible gentleman in my eyes. What a fast transition. I still didn't trust him, and suspected this was a trick or some new kind of torment the punch-line of which was waiting still, but I was such a wreck I allowed myself the chance. He opened the door for me, made a joke about dressing more appropriately for a black tie restaurant tomorrow, he'd call me, and shut the door behind me.

For un-kept moments, I stood there at the door, facing the hallway. I simply didn't know what to think or do. I was just helpless against that man, he could have done anything he wanted to me, and there was, I knew, no chance he'd get in any legal trouble. Or any other kind, for that matter. And he chose to ask me out on a date. I still had the clamps on. It wasn't rational, but I considered them a kind of good luck, since the man had softened after he put them on me. They did hurt and were uncomfortable, but they weren't so painful, at that moment, that I felt the need to remove them immediately. I still wasn't sure about my situation, after all. Perhaps removing them would get me in trouble somehow, and after I started thinking more about them after the emotional roller coaster, they didn't hurt as bad. I did want to remove them, but the chance of consequences and the impression they were lucky seemed to outweigh it, even though I wished it didn't.

I realized I wasn't as scared about getting noticed. As far as I could tell from earlier, Jake was the only guard inside the mall. There were supposed to be two, but I... well, I can't explain my reasoning, or lack thereof, but I clomped all over the mall. I was still intensely uncomfortable from the situation itself. I was still fully exposed in a mall, where someone could find me and get me in trouble or worse at any moment. Jake could even change his mind on a dime and come rape me. I ran to the theater, entering it via the backside, as I had the library. Right where I expected the next note to be, that's where it was.

For the greater part of an hour, I clomped around the mall. I took the nipple clamps off after about fifteen minutes, since it was getting more difficult to handle them and I figured any possible trouble for doing so was worth it. I massaged my breasts for a minute or two, then continued. I got a total of eight post-its, and they eventually led me to a door on the opposite side of the hallway the office was in. I wished I had known I would end up there earlier, but it was too late for that. I opened the door, and it was the camera room. All of the stress, all the anxiety and pressure, all the strange, twisting emotion, everything, came out then. The door shut as I entered and began to break down. The far wall was covered with monitors, each showing a store or hallway. I knew I had passed many of them, giving the person at the controls a bird's eye view of my adventure. That person was Darla. I took some steps towards her, which was when I collapsed. I put my face on her lap. She was going to use me, perhaps even punish me for God knows what, and make my life even worse than she had already made it. I could do nothing about it, so I simply cried in her lap. As I kneeled over her lap, I imagined she'd abuse me. I relaxed. I had taken the nipple clamps off, but I still held them. I imagined she would reattach them, cuff my hands behind my back, and force me to follow her around by tugging on them, but she simply let me cry in her lap. Why was everyone so nice to me?

Just as that thought crossed my mind, right when I decided to look up at Darla for answers, the fact she was nude sunk in. On the counter/control panel in front of her, there was a dildo and a butt plug. They were both pink, not the ones I had used earlier. Darla pulled my head up by the hair, and began kissing me. I was mostly done crying by then, and it was obvious she didn't care anyhow. She was letting me cry so that I could get over it and focus on what she wanted. She didn't actually care about me. Not a bit. As she kissed me, she put the clamps back on my nipples. I feared she would, and hoped she didn't, but it seemed inevitable. I knew what to expect this time, but I was wrong. She wasn't as gentle. Which was an odd realization. I had never considered nipple clamps might be put on gently. She put them over my nipples and let them clamp down, she did not do it slowly at all. It hurt much worse than when Jake had done it. The pain slowly numbed as she stood, leaving me next to her chair. She picked up the butt plug, and I expected she would demand I put it in myself, or she'd do it herself. I waited, on my knees, numbly. I was wrong, she bent over slightly and put it in her own anus. She moaned as she did it. She liked it. The dildo, too, was for her. When she sat down, she put it in her vagina. She guided my hands to her crotch. One hand was put under her, to play with her butt plug. The other hand was placed on the dildo. She then pulled my head down to her crotch, and I licked her clitoris as I knew she wanted.

At first I simply held the plug and dildo as I licked, but Darla soon ordered me to put pressure on the plug and to move the dildo. She writhed and told me to go faster every few minutes. The entire time, her hands outlined and rubbed my back. It was common for her to scratch. I was neither into what I was doing nor accustomed to pain, and I arched my back to try to avoid the scratches. But there was nowhere for me to go. She started breathing loudly, writhing harder, and she commanded me to thrust the dildo harder. She scratch my back hard enough to draw blood, and even leave scars I'd discover later. I tried to arch to avoid it, but I could do nothing. That was pretty fast, but she had me keep going. She played with her breasts while I did my un-willful duty. I still wasn't done having my pangs of emotion, and I cried intermittently as I built up Darla to another orgasm. She scratched my back again, and I shouted into her vulva. I was shaking as I cried, but I somehow managed to keep eating out the vile bitch. At the time, I just wanted to get it over with and leave. Darla had her third orgasm, scratching me as I shouted into her womanhood again, when my tongue was so tired I thought I'd be unable to continue. Fortunately, I didn't have to.

After that ordeal, she pulled me up to sit on her lap. "You're getting even batter at that, bitch." She was very relaxed. "I won't be able to feel your tongue on my cunt until Monday, though. Stand up."

I did as she said, and she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I don't know where she had them before, I think behind her in her chair, but they were different from the ones Jake had. Darla stood up, turned me around by my shoulder, and cuffed my hands behind me. Then she turned me back around. She opened up my key ring, which I also wasn't sure where she got it from, and slid it around onto the chain connecting my nipple clamps. The added weight made the clamps hurt a bit more, and I scrunched my face up. "Aw, does it hurt?" Darla asked with mock sympathy. I first wanted to tackle her, but then remembered not only that I was cuffed and so handicapped, but also that it would ruin my career. Which was responsible for the entire mess as it was!

Then, Darla slapped me. "Answer me when I ask you a question, bitch!"

"Yes, Mistress." I breathed shortly at her. I was done crying. I knew it wasn't all out, yet, but I didn't want to and perhaps couldn't, right then.

She walked over to the door, leaving the butt plug in but placing the dildo on the controls, and opened it for me. "If you try to get those cuffs off before you're out at your car, I'll come get you and whip you. Go home, bitch."

I knew she would know, too. I could see the cameras out to the parking lot. Right across the hallway, though, Jake was outside the office door. My emotions were still mixed. I feared him, but I also respected him. I felt safer with him than with Darla, but I shrunk away from both of them anyhow. I might trust him more, but he seemed like he could be more dangerous if I were wrong. Darla scowled at him and said, "What are you looking at?!"

"I was just about to make rounds, I won't be held responsible for looking at what's in plain sight." With that, I had gotten out the door, in plain sight of him. I wasn't sure if he was tlaking about the sight of me, Darla, or both, as I didn't have the courage to look at him.

Darla smacked my ass hard and said, "I guess you caught her again.", then she shut the door and retreated into the camera room. I stood for a moment, not sure what to say or do. Was Darla embarrassed to be caught like that? She maybe acted like it, but then why didn't she shut the door faster? Did she want Jake to see her naked?

"I'm looking forward to seeing you without the mask tomorrow." Jake said, as he started walking down the hall towards the food court. "I didn't make you keep going when it was obvious you couldn't handle it earlier, and I don't really know what you can handle still. Yet. There's something about you, about this situation. I want to figure it out. But I understand if you want to keep it private. If you want to tell me, feel free to talk my ear off tomorrow. Please. But I can't help but feel this is different than what I think it is, and I don't want to take advantage of you. I called Tony to check the back of the mall. I don't know how long you have, but he probably won't drive by the front very soon. I'll let you out the front, and I won't punish you as I was supposed to for finding you, if you just only consider telling me what's happening."

Again, I was lost for words. Jake led me to the front door. I was as vulnerable and exposed as ever, but he didn't take advantage of it. He wanted me to follow him, and I did. What was his deal? What could I safely tell him? What did he think was happening? Did he know about Chad, did he get the impression I wasn't as willing as Darla may have let on? I thought about that as he opened the doors for me. Before I left, he kissed me again. My breasts, and the clamps on them, pressed into his chest. It was uncomfortable, but the kiss was so very welcome. More than I admitted at the time. He was showing real concern for me, and it's difficult to explain how it made me feel, because I wasn't sure myself. I enjoyed the kiss, at any rate. I felt safe with him. I still didn't trust him fully. Indeed, I barely trusted him at all, but he was vastly more trustworthy than Darla at that time, and he did really seem concerned. I guess I wasn't sure how I felt, yet. He let go of me, shut the door, and waved. I stared at him stupidly, and he waved me towards my car before walking away.

The walk to my car was mostly uneventful, except my shoes clacked on the pavement and cars were out on the road. I wasn't sure how well the trees blocked the sight to the road, as I could see headlights easily, but I hurried anyhow. When I got to my car, I couldn't be sure what to do. It was weird, being unable to get into the car, even though I could look down at my keys hanging from my tortured nipples. I turned around at each door on the side of the car facing the mall, seeing if it was unlocked. Then I tried the other side real fast, and ran back around my car to hide from the road. None of the doors were unlocked. I also noticed the camera was gone from where I left it. And that's when it hit me that I was even more vulnerable than I was inside. I don't know how I blocked it out before then, but the realization was horrible. Jake had the other security guard at the back of the mall, which meant anyone could drive up, grab me, drive away with me, and have their way with me. I couldn't even attempt to defend myself, and I was a pretty obvious target being next to the only car in the parking lot and white against the darkness of night and blacktop

I glanced around and made sure nobody was puling up to me, and that no cars were entering the parking lot. Most of the lubricant had come off of me, but there was still enough I couldn't balance sitting on the hood to get a leg over the chain. On the side of my car away from the road, I tried to hop on one leg and pull the other leg over my hands or the cuff chain. I almost got it, but the toe of the boot caught the chain, and I fell over hard on my left side. Most of my weight landed on my shoulder, but a significant portion got my breast. My shoulder was scraped and bleeding, and so was my breast. My nipples got tugged hard, and the ground against the left clamp smashed my nipple into the rest of the flesh. I also had scrapes on my hip, and very minor ones on my thigh. I realized I was better blocked off from the road being that low, but I also realized Darla had put me in the biggest pickle yet, and I was about to go crazy from all the pains I was accumulating. They were all relatively minor, but the fact I couldn't avoid the clamps and couldn't clean the wounds right away meant they could get infected and irritated. Further, Tony would not be behind the mall forever, but even if he were, I wouldn't be able to get into my car before daytime. Maybe I could run some place safe, like a hotel or maybe I could get back in the mall. But I'd have to get up, first. I thought about the truck bay. I knew I could get in that way.

Staving off the seriousness of my situation, I started getting up. By the time I had figured out how to push myself up to a sitting position, I saw headlights rounding the corner of the mall. I paused in shock, but then continued trying to get up. I simply couldn't get all of my weight onto my hands, and my legs didn't bend easily to do it on their own. The fact I was trying to keep my legs together, a foolish concern given my circumstances, was partly to blame. The cuts I had received on my original fall made it harder still. The white security truck had pulled up next to my car before I had gotten up. It was maybe five feet away and facing the opposite direction, the way my back was facing. I was still sitting on my butt, my legs at odd angles. "Need help getting into your car, ma'am?" came a male voice from around the front of the truck, behind me.

I turned my head to see who it was. The person was already at my side when I turned. Before I could even fail at an attempt to cover myself up or get away, the man had grabbed me by my arm pits. He picked me up slightly, turned me around, and he placed me back on my knees. In the split second I saw him from his arm's length, I knew it was Tony. He was in a security uniform, and he had a big smile on his face. I also noticed that his fly was open, and his penis was out. Before I could react, he grabbed his penis with one hand and the back of my head with the other. He pulled my head towards his penis, which he angled into my mouth. I tried to shut my mouth, but my reactions were very slow at the time. I was shocked it was really happening. I hadn't even realized my mouth was open such that I would try to shut it before that penis was in it. I was still shocked, and Tony had to remind me, in a jocular tone, "Now you suck it, bitch."

I didn't often go down on a guy, and thought of it as little more than foreplay, but I knew I had to try to get him off before he put his penis anywhere else. I started licking and sucking in the ways I usually (though not often) did, but I wasn't balanced. I fell towards Tony, his penis, now hard, going deep into my throat. I started gagging and I pulled away. Tony held my head while I coughed, and as soon as I stopped, as soon as I was about to try to say something, he pulled my head back at his penis. That time, I closed my mouth. I knew it was a mistake, I knew he'd just go for another hole if I closed my mouth, but that didn't make me want to suck his dick any more. To make matter as bad as they had been, no hole on my body could defend against an intruder, since they were still very moist. However, he simply aligned my head again, gave me a moment in which I had enough wit to open my mouth, and he plunged me back down.

"Were you screwing around right here for so long on purpose? You wanted me to find you, huh? You wanted to suck my big dick, didn't you, you greedy whore?!" Tony said as I licked and sucked. I remembered how Jake had reacted when he realized something was wrong. What would happen if I told Jake that, in fact, I did not want to be doing that. But instead of letting me answer, he pulled my head so that his penis went deeper into my throat. "Deep throat that shit, you slut!"

It was actually with Chad that I learned how to deep throat. I had technically looked it up in sex books for boyfriends before that, but I had never actually learned how to until Chad. I simply didn't actually do it until then. All you have to do is sort of swallow the penis. Which is actually a lot easier to say than to do. At any rate, I was glad that I had learned, because I fell forward, Tony's penis down my throat. My lips rested against him for a moment. I felt his scrotum against my chin. I had never been good at deep throating, though. I didn't have enough time with Chad to get very good at it. In addition, the momentum swung my keys forward, and the chain tugged at my clamped nipples. I had the additional problem of the pavement hurting my knees, too. I was in a very bad place, and my gag reflex tried to get me out of it. I could no longer see with all the wetness of my eyes, and I could feel my stomach retching. Tony let me up just before I coughed some slime up from my stomach. It didn't seem any food was in it, and there wasn't much. I drooled it onto the ground, and Tony gave me a moment to breath, then pulled my head back in. Again, before I could say anything. But I was also scared to say anything. If I had the chance, would I have taken it?

"I was told you're really good with your mouth, so you'd better start sucking right!" he said as he guided my head slightly back and fourth. I tried my best to suck and lick, preparing myself better for when he tried to shove it down my throat again. I tried to ignore the swinging of the keys, but I could swear my nipples and aureole were going to be big bruises by the time he was done. It was hard to concentrate with such a pinching, burning pain at my nipples. I listened to his ignorantly humiliating tirade. "Yeah, that is good. Your tongue is strong! You're eager, now, aren't you, slut?! I bet you want me to fuck your cunt, but this feels too good. Maybe your asshole, though!"

He bent slightly and slapped my left butt cheek as he said that last remark. I couldn't fathom having someone have anal sex with me under those conditions. I couldn't allow it. My life was miserable, but I was still an anal virgin. I wasn't going to lose my anal virginity that way. I leaned forward, taking Tony's penis down my throat again. I stayed there for a moment, so that he could feel my throat, then came back up. He didn't stop me, so I didn't gag. "Oohh, your throat feels so nice! I guess I'll skull fuck you instead of fucking your ass, then! You'll love it!"

I deep throated him a few times, figuring I would please him with my mouth to preserve my anal virginity for something that won't haunt me for the rest of my life. I don't know why it was so important to me, but it was. Perhaps because I simply didn't want it to hurt. I wanted to do it for a man I trusted, if at all. My recent experiences taught me that my butt was all kinds of tight, and his penis was easily longer than the butt plugs I found so uncomfortable, though not thicker at it's widest. After a moment, he grabbed the sides of my head, and he pulled me down again. As soon as I had deep throated, he pulled me back up. Immediately, he pulled me back down. I didn't think I could handle it. I simply couldn't deep throat that fast. First I simply had trouble breathing, but then he shoved his penis down my throat when I wasn't ready. I pulled back, and I threw up whitish slime all over my chest. I took a few deep breaths, not enough, and he pulled me right back in.

He started at that same pace again. Breathing took the back seat. My throat hurt tremendously when he jammed it back and I wasn't ready. It was still sore. And it felt like my nipples were going to be ripped off. But I was in trouble. I breathed only small breaths, and not every time I came back. I could feel my lungs start to complain about their lack of fresh air, but Tony was pulling my face along his penis too fast for me to do anything about it. I started to struggle against the hand cuffs, but Tony didn't slow down. The world spun once, and I fell loudly against my car. I breathed heavily and quickly. Tony gave me some time to catch my breath, and then he pulled me in again. I certainly didn't get enough air, but I didn't suspect I would until Tony was done abusing me. Very suddenly, however, Tony stuck his penis deep into my throat and held it there. I couldn't breath, but I could tell he was about to orgasm. He quickly pulled out of my mouth, allowing me to breath, as he grabbed his penis and stroked slightly, then he ejaculated onto my breasts. He held me where I was by the back of my neck. By the fifth or sixth squirt, he aimed at my mouth. I could feel each hot stream land on my chest against the cold air. I was too busy catching up on breathing to try anything, though. The last squirt on my mouth landed more across and over it than in it, but I could taste the salty bitterness.

Tony stooped forward for a moment, rubbing the cum all over my mouth. After several moments wherein I started to catch my breath, he put his penis away. When he zipped his fly, he pulled my chin up so I looked at him and he said, "This was really exciting and fun. I look forward to next weekend at the cabin.". He grabbed the key hanging from my chest when I wasn't expecting it. He tugged only slightly, but they had been on so long and through so much that I shrieked anyhow. He used them to aim me at my car door I was right next to, and I stared in painful surprise as he directed me to next to my car that way, with me squealing the whole way. He used my car key to unlock the door, pulling up on my nipples, and I squealed again. My breath was mostly caught by then, so I looked up at him again.

"No, seriously," He began "I've never done anything like this. It was fun. You're something else."

He then walked to the other side of the truck, giving me a lazy salute on his way. I was on my knees, so I had the ability to stand up, but my knees hurt. I rocked back a bit and stood suddenly, as he began to drive off. He glanced back at me on his way. My knees did hurt. In fact, they had rubbed against the pavement and were bleeding. I realized then that he had planned to open the door for me, but I was still on my knees and in the way. I hadn't moved. He must have assumed I didn't want the help? I turned around, numb to the world. I felt for the latch, and opened the door. The truck disappeared around the opposite mall corner, and I got into my car. I was sore all over, and my nipples especially hurt, but I cried anyhow. I was in the passenger seat, and I sat for several minutes just trying to release the horrible feelings. I was just raped, after all. And the worst part was that the person who did it hadn't even realized. If only he had been observant, like Jake. He would have known I didn't want any of that. But it happened. All I wanted to do was go home and take a shower, but I was stuck with my arms behind my back. And even after the ten or so minutes it took me to maneuver my legs through my arms to get my hands in front of me, the drive home took over an hour. First, though, I removed the nipple clamps. I had learned earlier that they hurt more to take off than to put on. I cried and massaged my breasts as I started my car. Getting those clamps off made the drive home a little easier to concentrate on. It was a huge relief.

I didn't speed at all. There was no way I could allow myself to get pulled over in the condition I was in. I couldn't actually report the rape. I'd lose my career and life and wind up in prison. I had to take my time. My nipples were still sore when I got home. I didn't even realize there were new keys on my key chain until I had gotten inside. They was small. They were to the cuffs. I took the hand cuffs off, and the other key was for the boots, I realized. I took off all of the horrible costume and jumped in the shower. I took a very hot shower, and continued cleaning myself even after the water had turned cold. I couldn't seem to get clean. I don't know why I didn't feel so dirty with Darla, but with Jake it was horrible. Maybe it was the ejaculate? I eventually got out of the shower, bandaged the wounds needing it, noted that my areolas were slightly bluish, and I collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted. I slept on my right side.

When I woke up, I was having a panic attack, again. It didn't help that I was so sore. It wasn't just the wounds and my nipples, either. I had a deep muscle soreness, like I hadn't exercised in a while, even though I had. My throat was sore and my nipples couldn't even be touched without sending a jolt of pain deep into their respective breast. I got the panic attack under control in my room, being able to identify the problem faster, that time. I woke up and went to my desk. I walked slowly, like an old person. I empathized with them, after that. I organized all the papers I had been going through over the past week. Not the school papers, but my own homework. I had papers about Greg, Chad, Darla, and I got all the paperwork I could concerning each of their parents. I did some more research for a while, perhaps a few hours, but it was still dark out and I had to go back to bed.

Before going back to bed, I realized that Darla's step father was apparently a co-owner of that mall she had me go to, and he's quite well off. That explained her nice house, her job there, and perhaps even the ominous cabin Tony had referred to. The bad part of all my work was that Chad's old number was disconnected. I sent an email to him a few days before, but he hadn't yet replied. It was a free Internet based email, and it wasn't even one of the newer ones, so it was possible he had abandoned that address. I hoped he didn't, on all things good. My camera research didn't give me any leads, either. I couldn't find a single camera with a timer that would last long enough for me to hold Greg responsible. But then, that would mean someone else may have done it. Was it Chad, after all? I wished I had more clues to go on. I needed out of that situation as soon as possible. I was going to wind up crazy and jobless anyhow!

The second time I woke up, it was to my phone. In my half-sleep, I answered the phone thinking it was family or friend. It was a male voice. I think how hurt I was could be heard in my greeting, because Jake said, "Are you alright? Tony told me what happened." I didn't say anything. I was in shock and pain, and I didn't want to be reminded of it. However, Jake had seemed kind. Perhaps he could help me out of the situation somehow. Also, how kind he was too me meant a lot. It was probably because of how poorly I had been treated by Darla, and how poorly I started thinking of myself due to it, but his kindness touched my heart tenderly.

"Listen," he continued, "I managed to get a reservation for two at four o'clock. It's in the smoking section, though. I didn't know they had a smoking section until they told me that was all they had left, but I booked the table anyhow. I'm told it looks right over the bay, so you'll appreciate the view. Normally I'd meet you there, but I think we've already gotten more personal than usual, so how would you like me to pick you up at 3:30?"

It took me a few tries, but I found my voice, "Where is it?" I asked much more meekly than I intended to.

"Oh, duh! Yeah, it's The Vineyard. You know the road leading off of the... well, I can show you as we drive there if you want me to pick you up."

I realized he was waiting for an answer, since I had never provided one. I cracked once in trying to find my voice again, and it hurt a little, but I managed to reply with a little more volume than the first time, "Oh, okay, but I live an hour South of there."

"Yeah, I know. You live in the same city as Darla. I live in that direction, too, but not as far. We can get there in less than half an hour. from your school."

He knew I was Darla's teacher! "Oh", I whispered.

"You're majoring in English, right?"

I was confused at first. I had an English degree already. Then I realized he thought I was a college student. That must have been what Darla told him. But all I could say is "Yeah."

"Okay, well, I have some stuff to get to before that, so I've gotta go, but where am I gonna be picking you up at?"

I gave him my address. As I did it, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, like this was just a set-up. Perhaps he was going to rape me in my own home! No, I had to have some sort of hope. After I told him my address, he said, "Alright, I look forward to this. Remember it's a black tie restaurant, so wear something that brings out your natural elegance. See you at 3."

He hung up, and like that the conversation was over. After hanging up, I saw that I had some missed called. Three. They were all Darla. She only left one message, though; "I heard about you and Jake, bitch." She sounded angry "You're going to tell him that you go to the college and are an English major. If it comes up, you're going to tell him you're my bitch, that you're in love with me, and that you wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, you're going to suck his dick right off, because you were supposed to have done that if you got caught, and you did! If you don't follow these orders exactly, I'm going straight to the principal with my pictures. Call me as soon as he drops you off, after you've sucked his dick, whore!"

What?! This thing was becoming a bigger mystery. Why did she want me to fellate Jake? Why did she have me do that whole thing at the mall? Why did she want me to get caught and be used by men? None of that made sense! And now I was going to be forced to be a sex slave for Darla and two men! Right when I thought Jake might be able to get me out of this, too! Of course this was just some game I didn't fully grasp, yet. No way Jake was actually concerned, this was a set-up of some kind. But what kind of set-up? What was the point? Why did Darla want to share me with these men? Did they have a power over her? Were they making her do this? No, that didn't seem possible.

I rolled over as I considered the possibilities. I simply couldn't put the pieces together. What was Darla's motivation? Why was she so concerned about what I told Jake if my telling him didn't risk her power over me? But then why would she have me do anything with him at all? Or Tony? How did they fit into the picture? And if my telling was so dangerous for her, why hadn't she ordered me not to tell them anything until now? Then I looked at the clock and realized it already past 2 PM! The late night and waking in the middle of the night had made me sleep in for far too long! Jake was probably already getting ready to come pick me up!

What was I going to wear? Did I have to wear one of the thongs? Well, I didn't have any other underwear, so that's irrelevant. I had to. Did I still have my nice black cocktail dress? What was Jake going to wear? If this was just a trick, would what I wear effect what happened to me? Should I wear something sexy to appease the people who used me, or was this a real date and I should wear what I'd normally wear? I decided on a compromise at first. I found a nice red dress that was low cut and somewhat tight, but otherwise covered me well. But I realized I couldn't do that because the scrape form my fall was visible on both my shoulder on the top of my left breast. In addition, there was some greenish yellow bruise developing around my areolas, and the tops of the bruises could be seen.

I finally decided on a black dress. It, too was tightish, but it had a long neck and covered my cleavage and most of my shoulders. It was slightly shorter than the red one, but the scrapes on my knees were covered. They might be revealed when i sit, but my knees would be under the table, so that was acceptable. I showered again, shaved, and was very neutral throughout. I simply didn't know what to feel, and I couldn't afford to break down anyhow. I distracted myself by coming to a decision that could be very harmful to my life. I was going to try to get help from Jake. I couldn't live the slave of Darla any longer. I wouldn't do anything in front of her, but I had to take this chance. And if Jake wound up being just as bad as Darla, if it wound up this was some intricate trick, Jake wouldn't help me and Darla would still have her power over me... or send me to prison and out of my career forever. That was almost preferable to what happened the night before. Was it worth it?

After showering, I dressed. I wore my the black thong I bought, as it matched the dress and was clean. I used some make-up and put my hair up. I dare say I looked beautiful. Perhaps I could use my looks to get Jake's help. Even if he weren't actually very kind, he seemed kinder than Darla. I could offer myself to him, and have it be my choice, instead of Darla forcing herself, and others, onto me. After I was ready, I chose my purse. It was a large purse, and I put copies of all the homework I had in it, as well as my keys and et cetera. I was ready at about 3:10, so I paced my house in worry and doubt. When it came to about 3:20, I put effort into calming down. I meditated a little, something I learned from yoga classes I had taken years before. It seemed to help. I wasn't on the verge of a break-down, but I was still intensely nervous.

My doorbell rang a few minutes before 3:30. I was in the living room, which was in sight of the front door, but I still jumped. The jump reminded me that I was sore all over, but I went to the door anyhow. On that short walk, I wondered if I would chicken out. I never realized before all this how big a coward I was. I was in this situation, after all. There was no way I'd find the nerve to ask Jake for help. But if I didn't, I'd have to go down on him by Darla's command, and he'd think that it was what I wanted. As it was, he probably thought it was what I wanted, he was just trying to earn my trust, to make me less nervous. All so he could get head. No! I couldn't go out with him thinking like that! He would help if I told him, I had to tell him! Probably. Maybe. I had to hope, at any rate!

I answered the door and paused. Jake was hansom, but he was also tall and imposing. The air from outside flew around me, up my skirt, reminding me about the thong I was wearing and how I've never worn one for a man unless I planned to seduce him. I knew how vulnerable I was, especially against a man of his size. He wasn't huge, but he was taller than average and muscular. But he also took so much care for his appearance. How could the only thing he cared about be getting laid if he could get it without so much work? He could have simply taken me, and I would have accepted it, due to my position and cowardice. In the moment I had those thoughts, Jake, looking right into my eyes, said, "Wow... you really are beautiful."

I had taken care to keep from crying, to keep my eyes white with some eye drops. The make-up covered the stress, I guess. Jake offered me his arm, and we walked to his car. It was a newish SAAB. I had no idea security guards got paid as much as it appeared Jake was worth. Maybe he had a rich family. I was walking stiffly, but Jake's smile and compliment had softened me. He opened the door for me, and I got in slowly. I glanced up and Jake had a concerned, nearly pained look on his face. What was with him? How did he fit into Darla's scheme? If he was actually as nice as he seemed, why would Darla include him in any of this, and why would she allow me to go on this date.

And that's when it hit me. If that really was a date, then it'd be the first one I was on in almost a year. It'd be the first date I went on since Chad. Did I want that? Jake got in, and I looked over to him. He was so hansom and kind, and he was even charming, and I figured I'd put my worries behind me and enjoy the date. I didn't know how it fit into anything, but if it was real, I intended to enjoy it. I would tell Jake everything later, after seeing if this was really a date. The car ride began awkwardly. I was still nervous, of course. I could just ignore what was happening to me. Especially since Jake had already seen me nude and vulnerable! After getting on a major road, Jake turned on the radio. It was on a pop station, but he turned it to a soothing jazz. Afterwards, he put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed as he had the night before. It was my left shoulder, which I had fallen on. It hurt, but I tried to ignore it. He looked sidelong at me as he drove, "Hey, we're just going to have fun tonight, right? No pressure, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just be friends and talk about stuff."

The way he spoke to me, it was very soothing. In fact, I found myself relaxing. I was still unsure and nervous, but I was leaning more towards trusting than distrusting. Jake seemed like he was actually a nice guy. He asked me some questions on the way to the restaurant, since it was a relatively long drive. He asked me about superficial facts about myself, such as favorite bands and movies. He was telling me a story about when he was in college as we pulled into the parking lot. I even managed to pull my head out of my worries. It was really going to happen. I was going to find help in Jake. He actually was a nice guy.

The view from the table was as he described it, and there weren't any smokers at the tables around us. I was still nervous and a little terrified of possible consequences, so I didn't talk much. I mostly replied to Jake's stories and questions. I even smiled. I actually had a good time. Jake was intelligent, witty, and nice. He told me all about his family and friends. He even invited me to discuss my family, and I told him exclusively true things. He got a very smooth and not too sweet red wine, the whole bottle. He only had a few glasses, and I had three. I didn't touch my food, which had ordered after recommending something he liked. I had never been, and I felt bad at ordering anything I may have wanted due to the prices. So I was actually relieved when he ordered for me. It was some kind of chicken cooked in a special lemon wine sauce. It was every bit as good as he said.

By the time we got in the car to go home, I was having an honestly good time. Jake and I had similar tastes not only in music and food, but also in recreation and literature. From the first time I met him, I never expected someone so... well, great. I simply never expected to be on such a perfect date, especially with someone I assumed was so creepy before. Though again, it may have been that I was reaching, comparing the date to how horrible my life had been the past few weeks. Jake was apparently studying for a Masters in Physics, but he didn't know what he was going to do with it. He just liked physics. Every fact I learned about him made me respect him even more. How could I have expected such a perfect man to exist?

Why did Darla include Jake in all of this? What was her motivation? I banished that thought from my head the moment I had it, but then we pulled up to my house. I didn't want to get out of the car, but things would get suddenly awkward if I didn't. I didn't want to go back to my life, I didn't want to be forced to face what Darla had created of it. Jake walked me to my door, said he had a wonderful time, and then he asked, "Are you sure you're alright with this whole thing?"

"What whole thing?", I asked, sobered and quiet.

"Well," Jake began "This whole shared slave thing. I won't lie and claim I'm totally comfortable with it. I was only taking part out of curiosity and the assumption you were comfortable with it. I get the nagging impression Darla is too immature to handle the responsibility, and Jake is clueless about the lifestyle to begin with. You certainly weren't comfortable last night, which makes me... well, concerned. You're a marvelous lady, and one I never expected to find in this lifetime. I just... I want to make sure you're okay."

Jake stood and looked to me, apparently waiting for some sort of answer. It seemed like he was asking me to tell him what was going on with Darla. The doubt nagged at me. If he was working with Darla, perhaps they were trying to see how trustworthy I could be with Darla's secret. But I really wanted what I had that night with Jake to be real. I didn't have to wear a mask, I was simply myself. Well, after I finally got comfortable enough to be myself, anyhow.

Then, Jake surprised me. He leaned in to kiss me, and it was slow and warm. He wasn't putting pressure on me to go further, but he let me know he was into me, that he wanted me. Then, he said "I'm not comfortable sharing like this, I realized. If you want this, good for you. I'll even stay along and watch to make sure things are alright. But I know you have my number. I want you for my own, and it makes me feel selfish and a bit dishonest. I know you have your thing with Darla, but I'll always be an option.", and he turned and walked away.

I watched him turn and walk. He took a step, and I realized my chance to tell him what was happening was slipping away. Further, he was, so far as I could tell, everything I wanted in a man. I couldn't take that chance, I couldn't lose that opportunity! I reminded myself of the promise I made to take chances if it meant I could end this whole thing. And this looked like one. He took another step, and I worried that it might still be a giant set up that Darla orchestrated to get me into trouble. And then I took the chance. I shouted "Wait!", jumped off my step after him, caught up, and grabbed his shoulder. He had turned around before I got to him.

I wanted to start explaining things, to invite him in so that we had the privacy required to, but I just grabbed him, pulled in closer, and started crying into his chest. I knew I seemed crazy, but I couldn't help my reaction. I didn't even know if I could trust him, even though he seemed like such a great guy earlier. I still intuited that he was the good guy he seemed, but I was too scared and horrified of the consequences to start talking. I half expected Jake to think I was crazy and try to leave, but instead he pulled me close and said, "My suspicions have some merit, don't they?"

I pulled away far enough to nod at his question, but I couldn't immediately say anything. He put his hand on my head and held me close, calming me. It worked. I may not have fully trusted him, but I wanted to, and it seemed like I should. I was helpless as it was, so I figured letting him hold me like that wasn't going to harm anything. As I cried into his shoulder, he asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"

I was crying less, then, and I had the energy and will to take his hand and brokenly ask, "Would you.... like... coffee?" and then I led him towards my door. He didn't say anything, but he came inside with me all the same. I brought him over to my couch, and put a few coasters on the coffee table. I would have turned the radio on, but I didn't know what kind of mood would be appropriate or if it might send me off crying and unable to talk again. I put a pot on to percolate, and asked him, from the kitchen, if he'd like creamer or sugar. My voice broke slightly, but I was loud enough that he answered. Yes to both. I wasn't sure how to start what I wanted to say to him, so I dallied in the kitchen for a while. The two cups of coffee only took several minutes in my machine, so it wasn't too strange leaving him alone. His concern over my distress would probably excuse my odd behavior anyhow.

I brought the coffee out and sat next to him. I told him I'd get him more sugar or creamer if he wanted it, but he took a sip and told me it was fine. His sip was taken soon after the coffee was done, though, and I could tell he burned his tongue. He tried to ignore the burn, but he made a face that, for some reason, started me laughing. I didn't laugh long or hard, it was more of a giggle or chuckle, but the mood of the room changed. I was comfortable again. Still and obviously not all the way, but I was closer to being able to open up to him. He smiled when I laughed, and I could see the caring in his eyes again. What would bring someone I hardly knew before that night to care so much about what was going on. Well, I guess if he sensed how severely wrong things were, and were a good person, his natural reaction would be to care and attempt to get to the bottom of the problem. Somehow, I felt bad that his attention was on me. Almost as though I didn't deserve it. But that was probably how badly I had been treated the few weeks prior, again.

I picked up my purse, and set it on my lap. I opened it slightly, and put the tip of my finger on the papers. I was too nervous about the possible consequences to keep going, though. I looked up to Jake, and he still seemed concerned. He noticed what I was doing with my purse, and in retrospect I realized I didn't hide it well. I knew I was a coward for trying after getting so close to showing him, too. Even though I had stopped taking them out of my purse, Jake took the initiative. I guess how I was acting would get anyone curious. He grabbed the papers I was fingering, and took them from my purse. He did it slowly, as though testing to see if I'd stop him. I started shaking, but I didn't.

I thought I was vulnerable the night before. Hand-cuffed, legs spread, at Jake's mercy. But his seeing my homework made me feel more vulnerable. He wasn't just looking at my naked body, he was looking at my soul. Specifically, he was looking at the damage that had been done to my soul. Just like a body, it's difficult to not cover a wound on your soul from possible further damage. I just watched him look at the first few photos and shook, fingering the lips of the purse I didn't have the nerve to set back down.

"What's all this?" Jake asked, holding the photos and papers at an angle so that we could both look at them. I tried to answer his question, but I hadn't quite figured out where to start, and all that came out was a creek. I realized I was biting my lip, and focused on my breathing so I could calm down. "What does all this mean?"

I can't remember exactly what I said, due to my anxiety, but, in broken and soft sentences, I explained the very basics of the situation to Jake. His reaction was to stand up sshout, "You can't be serious! We have to call the police!"

I couldn't allow that, as I had already realized the consequences of such an action, so I jumped immediately up and grabbed his arms, "No! No no no! I'd lose my job and go to prison!"

"But we can't allow this to continue! This is immoral to the highest degree! I thought that, even if you were nervous, you were at least WILLING!"

I tried to say "Yeah", but it came out a whisper. I knew nothing could be done.

"Oh my god..." Jake said, putting his fingers through my hair. "You poor thing. You, more than anyone I know, don't deserve this. Would you like me to stay here tonight? I mean... to protect you, keep safe?"

I couldn't say anything. My emotion and my control over them had reached it's limit. My mental resources had been fully tapped. All I could do was nod. For almost half an hour, he held me and comforted me on the couch. The next thing I knew, we were in my bed. I apparently fell asleep on the couch. We were still both dressed, except for our shoes, and my arms were sore. I had apparently been holding onto him in my sleep. I moved so that I could see his face. He was sleeping. There was snot and tears on his suit jacket, so I took the time to remove it without waking him, and I tossed it off the bed and lied back down in his arms. Someone just holding me as I slept made all the difference. It was the most comfortable and safe I had felt since I could remember.

I turned away from him and moved backwards into his arms, to fit better and feel more secure. A moment after I had settled in, I heard Jake whisper "I'll do everything in my power to fix this. I promise." I couldn't say anything. I just pressed my face into his hand, kissed it, and cried softly until I fell asleep.

Ambivolence

I realized it was only nine o'clock at the latest when I went to sleep the previous night, but likely closer to eight. I woke up at a little bit before four. I slept well for the first time in weeks. Jake was still holding me as he was the night before, though it seemed we moved slightly in sleep. We were spooning. I apparently took the pins out of my hair, though I hadn't remembered doing so, and my dress was all wrinkled. I didn't want to wake him, so I slowly slid his arm back, onto his side. I rolled to the edge of the bed and got up. I noticed the time, and realized I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Jake was incredibly kind to me, and I was also incredibly attracted to him. I still wasn't sure how much of the attraction was how nice he was to me and it's contrast to how I had been treated by Darla, but I knew I would have been even if that didn't happen.

Darla had told me to give him a blow job. In fact, I wanted to do it anyhow. I thought about doing it as a way of showing him I'm appreciative of the vow he gave me the previous night, but then I remembered what Darla had said about it. Actually, I wanted to have sex with him. I was torn, though. I couldn't tell if I wanted to have sex with him only because of my attraction, or if I wanted to have sex on my own terms, not being forced into it. It could have been my self-esteem fighting to come back into my life. I didn't want to have sex with Jake as some strange psychological reaction to my recent abuse, but my desire for him was undeniable. Then, so was my recent abuse. Either way, I decided to take a shower before doing anything, as I was sure he'd appreciate anything I might have done if I were fresh.

I took a warm shower. I shaved as I had been doing, but for Jake. I guess my mind was already made up. Why would I get clean for him if I didn't plan on doing anything with him? I wanted to have sex with Jake, regardless what, or how unhealthy, the reasons were. After getting out of the shower I dried and combed my hair, put on lip gloss, applied my anti-hair lotion, and applied a very small amount of make-up, as I had last night. There wasn't much helping the scratches all along my left side, but they appeared to be a bit better anyhow. The area around my nipples, however, were green and yellow. I tried to touch it up with the make-up, but it looked odd, so I removed it. Even though I tried, I still didn't convince myself that I looked very appealing that way. To top it off, I was still sore. Would I be good enough for him? Would I have even worried about that before my relevant problems? Didn't I still want Chad?

Finally, I convinced myself to give Jake the blow job, and maybe something else if he wanted. I may not have been good enough for him to have sex with the way I was, but I still wanted him to know how much I appreciated him. Also, I wanted him to know I wanted more than just help out of my situation. I wanted him to know I thought of him as... a really great guy, who I wanted to be romantic with, I guess. I had the problem of what to wear back into the bedroom. Would he prefer being woken up with me naked, giving him head, or would he prefer me in a bath-robe or towel? Would he like me to have my thong on and maybe wiggle my hips on my way back into the bedroom? Would he be awake enough to notice? Why was I so concerned about it?

I decided to go into the bedroom totally naked. I'm not sure I had any good reason for it that way instead of another, but he had already seen me naked anyhow, so it didn't really reveal anything secret to him. When I went through the bedroom door, however, Jake was not there. My plan was falling apart already, and I, for some reason, needed it not to. I knew, then, that my recent abuse was a large factor in what I was attempting. Perhaps the fear of rejection after all the torment my self-esteem had been through, perhaps I subconsciously feared he'd not help me if I didn't do what I planned, but I felt the need. I turned around and sensed a motion around the corner, towards the kitchen. Good, he hadn't left! I walked slowly through the living room, biting my bottom lip. I stopped biting my lip when I realized I was doing it, and I glanced around the corner. Jake was facing the counter the coffee pot was. He must have been rewarming the half pot left from the previous night.

I tried to sneak up behind him, and I'm pretty sure I succeeded. Jake was doing something, perhaps reading. I wrapped my arms through his, and hugged him from behind, which reminded me that I had bruises on my breasts. He started to turn and I loosened my grip so that he wouldn't move me along with him. He finished turning, and he looked at me surprised. He didn't jump, he didn't seem put off, he just seemed like he didn't expect me to be nude. Hell, I didn't expect it until I did it. But that was the moment of truth, and I had to wait to see how he reacted before I could get out of the sudden paralysis I found myself in. My heart jumped and I couldn't look away from his eyes. He was about to say something as his expression softened, and I sensed his rejection coming. I couldn't allow that, so I quickly moved in and started kissing him. The bruises at the apex of each breast hurt as they squished into him, but they'd seen worse. I could handle it. The strategy worked. He kissed me back with a reserved, but undeniable, passion. As we kissed, he moved. I had no choice but to go where he did to continue the increasingly intense kisses, and I soon found myself pinned between him and the table.

I tried to stay up, to hold myself up by holding him, but he had grabbed my arms and pulled them away. He allowed me to fall backwards a little, then he slowly lowered me the rest of the way. The only way I could lay down like that were if I wrapped my legs around him, which I did without hesitating. He combed one hand through my hair, grabbed the side of my chin,and leaned down to continue the kissing. I put my own fingers through his hair and worked my other hand down to his crinkled shirt neck. I started unbuttoning the first button when he pulled away slightly and looked at me intently. He was considering something important, and whatever the important thing was, he was about to reject me. I could feel it. I tried to wither away, but it didn't work. He stood all the way up, taking my hand from his second button and fixing the first, "No."

I don't know which way, but my color changed. The room fell away, but I wasn't fainting. He shook his head once, set his jaw firmly, and moved back from between my legs. I lied there fully open, having just thrown myself at him, and he denied me. I thought for sure he cared. It had seemed so real. He continued his thought, "Things are far too complicated for such a decision to be made. And the further complications required for this in the first place have been shown to be... false."

I couldn't do anything but lie there hoping he would reconsider, or perhaps that it was a dream. I doubt I could have spoken without bursting into tears again. He changed the subject and looked away, "I called Tony, but he didn't answer. I should go and... tell him."

I fell off the table, onto my knees, surprised that someone else might learn what was going on. I couldn't bring myself to trust that man after what had happened. Wide-eyed and scared, I pleaded, "No, please don't tell him! Don't tell anyone! What if he tells Darla? I can't let Darla learn that I've told anybody! What if he tells the authorities?!"

"Perhaps, but I should at least go see him to determine what I can do concerning him. And Darla... I don't know when or how I'm going to deal with her, yet!"

"Don't! She still has the photos and even video! If she even had the impression you know what's happening, she'd send me to prison! Please don't do anything rash!"

"Don't do anything rash?! How can I stand by knowing what's happening?!", he demanded as he waved his arms to either side

"I don't know, but it's happening to me! Please let me try to handle this! I'm going to get a hold of Chad, and... I'm not sure, but he'll be able to think of some way to clear this!"

Jake gave me a soft look again. He kissed my forehead, said "Okay. You call me as soon as I can help, though.", and he left.

I got up and ran to my bedroom, then put on my robe and cried in bed. Just when I thought I was done crying because I was being sexually abused, being rejected by the first guy I actually wanted to have sex with since the abuse started set me off again. There was no way I could face Darla that day, so I called in sick. I hadn't remembered how many personal days I had used yet, but a break down at school wasn't an option. I cried until my alarm went off, then ran out of tears. I was sore, my throat was parched form the crying, snot was all over my pillow. That was probably the most miserable I had been in my entire life.

After I stopped crying, I fell asleep for a while. When I woke up, it was almost noon. I put on my house robe, made and drank some coffee, and made some eggs and toast. I didn't give myself time to think about all the horrible drama my life had become. I had work to do. The past few weeks, I hadn't done much planning for my classes, and I planned on gaining something from my sick day besides not having to see Darla. I had to put in an order to the school library to get a few copies of books to replace ones that went missing last year for an upcoming report for my first three classes, and I had to change the pace of my fifth hour class because they were moving too slowly. Perhaps I could increase the weight of the final paper that semester if I removed one of the smaller assignments. I had gotten a few hours of work done by the time my phone went off. It was Darla. I didn't answer. I took the day off, that includes from her.

I listened to the message anyhow, "bitch, you're going to wear that blouse I got you tomorrow, no bra, and that first skirt I got you, too. Your choice of thong. Meet me in the bathroom near class at lunch time, and bring the butt-plug."

She seemed much calmer than she had when she left a message the day before. I tried not to think about what she said. I'd deal with it the next day. I got done with my work, and felt pretty good for dealing with so much. I decided to read a book. I hadn't really done much reading the few weeks before, so I'd catch up. I had a couple I was working on, so I finished one and almost finished another before I realized the sun had gone down. I would have to go to bed soon, and then wake up and go to work the next day. I pushed it out of my mind as I got ready for bed and read another chapter before falling asleep.

I had a dream about Chad. It was intense. The details elude me now, but it took the general air of a romance book set in the fifties. I hadn't read a romance book the previous day, but dreams tend not to make much sense. I was the heroine, Chad the Hero. I got saved from some sort of crime lord, and Chad took me off to make love passionately. I didn't make it all the way to the steamy part, though, because my alarm woke me up.

I moaned and got up. When I was in the shower, I realized Jake hadn't called me the previous day. Was he going to call me? Was he trying to do something about my situation? He said for me to call him, but would he check in? If so, he would probably just make things worse. Or had his show the other day been nothing more than that? I still couldn't be sure he wasn't working with Darla. My image of him seemed to change from one extreme to another all the time. I trusted him after I had calmed down on Sunday, through Monday morning, but why had Darla's apparent mood changed?

My nipples still had bruises on them, and the scabs on my left breast and shoulder were still large and fresh. I couldn't get out of my mind why they were there. Darla. Tony too, but he wouldn't have done anything without Darla around. Jake was difficult to place. Had I doomed myself in sharing things with him? Perhaps he was even the master mind behind this, and he had some overarching plot. Maybe I've read too much fiction in my life. Rationally speaking, I had no reason to doubt him. I couldn't afford the trust I desperately wanted to grant him if it proved false, though. He seemed trustworthy, and I wanted someone I could trust, so perhaps I would just continue operating as though I could.

I couldn't stop being concerned though. Why was Jake so important to me? Well, obviously he could possibly help me deal with Darla, and he seemed a great catch ignoring that, but I liked him more than that already. Was I displacing my feelings for Chad onto him? It was possible, I guess. Well, there wasn't anything I knew how to do to stop that, except remind myself he's not Chad when I saw him next. When was I going to see him next? He hadn't called. Had he informed Tony about my situation? Could Tony be trusted if Jake could? I started second guessing telling Jake anything. If he told anyone else, that could start a chain reaction of telling people that ends up with me in prison! Maybe I should call him? I finished shaving and washing, then jumped out of the shower.

The phone rang and nobody answered. I wanted to leave a voice mail, but I couldn't think what to say. What if someone else had Jake's phone? Before I actually decided to hang up, the beep happened. It probably sounded dumb, but after a moment's hesitation I said "Please, Jake, don't tell anyone about what I told you! Let me handle it, I have a plan!"

I had a plan? I mean, sure, I did, but it wasn't a very good one, and it wasn't coming together at all like I had hoped. What if it was too late and he had told someone? What if someone else heard the message? Would he call back, now? When could I expect his call if so? At any rate, I had to get dressed. I quickly found and dressed in what Darla had told me to. I had grown somewhat accustomed to thongs, though it still felt out of place wearing them to my job. The skirt seemed shorter than I remembered it, or at least shorter than I wanted to remember it. I checked in the mirror and it reminded me that I had to be careful not to bend over any significant amount. Twirling was dangerous, too. Of course, the scabs from the scrapes on my thigh were pretty obvious, but they weren't very significant. I shaved without problems, after all. After putting the blouse on I got scared. The giant section of scabs on my shoulder were obvious through the sleeve, and some of it wasn't covered at all. The area of scab on my breast was a dark blotch that, it seemed to me, was obvious through the material. My breasts hung lower than usual, of course, and they swayed against the material, making my nipples stand out. Their color wasn't exactly a secret, either, and the bruises around them just made my areolas seem more visible. To top it all off, this was the outfit the Principal had warned me might change the clothing policy, but without a bra!

I tried not to worry about it on the drive there, but as soon as I got out of my car the now familiar impression I was under dressed forced me to walk to my classroom faster than I normally would. I was there early, but as I walked by the principal's office, I could see that he was walking towards the door. I certainly didn't want him to see me the way I was, so I power walked the rest of the way down the hall. I was quickly to the intersection between most classes and the lunch/gym/administration part of the building, so I went up the stairwell and directly to my class. I knew he had opened the door and probably walked out before I got to the intersection, but I wasn't going to look back.

My first three classes went well. I used my writing on the board before class strategy. I hadn't turned in my order for the books from the library, but I didn't need the books right away anyhow. I had a few weeks. Then third hour got out, which meant I had to go to the bathroom to meet Darla. And she was probably going to make me wear the butt-plug for the rest of the day. I wasn't sure if I'd prefer to keep the thong on or not. It's not like the thong would hide the plug, but it would still cover my vulva if I twirled too quickly. I knew how she worked, she was going to punish me for not being at school the day before. It wound up I was right, too. As soon as I got to the bathroom I saw Darla standing right on the other side of the door.

She grabbed my ear and pulled me by it to the stall against the wall "bitch, why weren't you here yesterday?"

She seemed calm, but like there was a rage underneath it she was suppressing. We weren't to the stall yet, and I had to bend awkwardly to stop my ear from hurting too bad "I was sick, Mistress!"

"Is that right, bitch?" She asked as she pulled me around her and pushed me, still by the ear, into the stall before her. She stepped in, shut the door, and faced me as she continued, "Well, I don't think I should allow you to get sick!"

What was she saying? She knew she couldn't stop me from getting sick. She must have known it was a lie, but didn't have any way of proving it. Not yet, anyhow! I opened my purse to fetch out the butt plug when she released my ear. I held it up to her, hoping perhaps she was going to take it and keep it, instead of making me use it. Surprisingly, she took it. "Underwear", she commanded as she set her backpack on the floor against the wall and started digging through it. I could see she had that dildo and the harness. Ah, so she wasn't keeping the plug, she was just getting everything together. I should have expected something like that. The was lube in my purse, too. I knew why Darla wanted me to bring the plug, and I didn't want to shove it in dry! Darla pulled out the harness and the dildo, but she put the plug in her bag. Maybe I wouldn't have to have it in!

She stood up to hang the harness on the rail along the wall, and handed me the dildo, "Fuck yourself, bitch."

I didn't have anything else to do but what she said, so I used the lube I had and spread it around the dildo. When it was smoothly coated, I lifted my skirt and sat down on the pipes behind and above the toilet seat. It would be more accurate to say I was leaning there, or perhaps that I was half leaning and half sitting. Either way, I spread my other leg to the other side of the toilet and started thrusting the dildo into me. I wasn't turned on at all, so it was uncomfortable and felt too large, but I did as I was told in hopes of getting out of there sooner. I almost considered how obedient I was being, how much I had changed into the role I was being forced into, but I knew thinking about that would make things worse. I shoved it from my head.

Darla was getting something else from her bag. She slowly held it up for me to see. It was the butt plug. No, it was a new one! It was larger than the one I had! The base was the same diameter, but it otherwise looked larger and with the same dimensions. It was at least an inch longer than the other one, and the wide part near the base was proportionally as big. I estimated it as being at least five and a half inches long and the widest part was more than two inches. Did she really expect me to put that in my butt?! It was much too large! Walking around with the other one was slightly painful and certainly uncomfortable, how would I cope with a larger one?! Why did she feel the need for a larger one?!

She saw my look of surprise and horror "I have three total, bitch. This is the medium. Do you really want the large?"

My face may have gained a little horror, but I quickened the pace of the dildo, which I just then realized I had slowed, shook my head, and tried to relax. I would need all the relax I could get to fit that in me! And with the dildo and harness?! I'd be unable to walk! I watched her put lube all over the plug as I had the dildo. After it was evenly spread she handed the plug to me and said "switch."

I handed her the dildo as I took the butt plug. I couldn't stop from hesitating. I had thought the other plug was horrible enough. I didn't wait too long, though. She was watching and, no, I did not want the larger! How monstrously huge did they make these things? I stood up and turned away. I bent over and held myself up with the pipe I had been sitting on. I really wanted to hesitate, but I just let out a sigh and reached the plug behind me. I took a deep breath, and pressed it against my anus. I wasn't immediately relaxed, so I breathed and focused on calming down. It started sliding in fairly quickly, and I managed to remain calm until it got to the point I had to really stretch myself to get it in. A slight problem: it came back out a pinch when I heard the noises Darla was making. She was using the dildo on herself. I didn't look back to see, I just relaxed again and pressed. Looking wouldn't change anything. My asphincter started burning a bit as I was stretching it too far. To make matters worse, I could already feel the tip of the plug pressing against the depth of my bowels. I figured I'd get it in one shove, to get it over with. Like jumping into a cold pool. I ignored the pain and pushed harder. That was a mistake, of course. I'm not sure why I actually did it. My asphincter felt suddenly like someone struck a match against it, and the tip of the plug pressed painfully against something deep in there. I didn't intend to, but my butt shot forward, forcing me to stand straight, and I caught myself on the wall.

As I tried to turn to face Darla, I realized the pressure against the insides of my butt wasn't going anywhere. When I tried to flex my legs to move, it also slightly flexed my insides. That forced the plug harder into the spot inside me, and shot me to standing straight again. The burning of my asphincter was still there, but subsiding. At that moment, I wanted little more than to get the butt plug out of me. It was simply too large! No way Darla would make me wear it with the harness all day! I managed to slowly turn around and look at Darla, who had stopped moving the dildo in her, though her dress was still pulled up. My eyes were wide, but she only looked amused. She had apparently gotten another dildo out of her bag, and she was handing it to me. I almost cried when I saw that it, too, was larger than the other one. I remember how full I felt the last time, with smaller items in me. The rest of the day was going to be hell. I hoped she was only testing my obedience. There was no way she'd be so cruel. Then, she did whip me, and she seemed capable of turning in those pictures of me so get me thrown in prison.

I would have asked Darla to reconsider, telling her how much it hurt even though I didn't have permission to speak. However, the bathroom door opened and a group of girls came into the bathroom. I could hear them get to the mirrors and then gab in front of them. The dildo Darla had was already lubed, so I took it and put it in. As I did, Darla grabbed the harness and put it into position under my hand. I tried to get the dildo in quickly, but as I did it pressed against where the butt plug was. That pressed the plug back and up, making it hurt some more. Darla had none of it, though. She pulled my hand away and the dildo almost shot out. I wish it did. Instead, she pressed up against it with the harness. Then she pulled the harness up. Fortunately, she did it slowly. The dildo pressed against the butt plug, I did my best to relax, and she pressed it up as high as it'd go. I did my best to quiet my squeals. She pulled up on the back and front, and then buckled it. I kept my skirt out of the way, but I kept trying to jump.

After the harness was snuggly set, I could feel the dildo and butt plug not only very uncomfortably filling me up, but also pressing painfully too far into me. Both of them. I had to relax to reduce the pain, but any movement meant I stopped relaxing as much as I could. Darla got something else from her bag. A lock. I hadn't realized the harness could be locked, but Darla has proven to be good at teaching me plenty of things I never wanted to know. It was all I could do to keep from crying as she stood up and said "You may find it difficult to walk for a while, but you'll thank me for stretching you out like this in preparation for Saturday, in the future."

She didn't even quiet down so that the girls in the room didn't hear her! She didn't seem to care, though. She put her bag back on and kissed me. Her dress had long since fallen back into place, and she had put the smaller dildo away. As she pulled me towards her I reflexively tightened, of course. The pain from the invaders ramming into very soft tissues shot up my back. I tried to kiss her back to get it over with and did a poor job. She didn't seem to care. She let go of me, turned around, opened the door just far enough for her to get out, and she was gone. I quickly shut the door, but had to deal with another spasm before I could lock it.

How was I going to walk back to class?! Every step would cause a jolt of pain to ascend my abdomen! It wasn't possible! I tried to see if there was room at the side to pull either item out, but it was simply too snug. I considered allowing myself to cry, but that would cause my abdomen to move and undoubtedly tighten up. I had to wait for those girls to leave and then just do my best to get back to class. Fortunately, it didn't seem they were very interested in who Darla was talking to. Soon, they did leave, and I got up the courage to take a few steps in the stall. If I took a very slow step, I could remain relaxed. The invaders still pressed deeply into me and caused more pain, but not significantly more. How was I ever going to walk such that it didn't look like anything was wrong?! How was I going to keep these in for the rest of the day while remaining sane?! I had to figure out a way of removing them, even if Darla found out. That was too much.

I left the stall and tried a normal step towards the door. It shot a jolt of pain as I expected. What the hell was that plug pressing into that hurt like that?! Why did Darla do this?! There was no way for me to look normal with those in me! Even relaxing I was unnaturally still and leaned my neck forward too far. I had a horrible gate, too! I tested. It was obvious I was going to hurt a lot, so I tried a long step. It did hurt more than a small step. I started getting angry. I had to do something! I couldn't stand awkwardly in the bathroom all day! Then I remembered Darla saying something about stretching me out. Might it hurt less if I moved around and, well, stretched my vagina and butt out? I felt miserable and whorish by the idea, but I had to. I slowly walked around the bathroom. At first it hurt and I made a loud, inward sighing noise each step, but soon I could walk without doing that. The pain was with every step, but it seemed I was more able to hide it each time. I didn't want to make that a skill, so I figured I'd just go to my class. No reason to torment myself first. There probably wouldn't be anyone in the hall by that point, anyhow.

I was exceedingly happy there wasn't anyone in the hallway. The trip to my classroom took far, far too long. I didn't realize how many of those small steps it would take, and I didn't count, but I certainly wasn't going to take larger steps when nobody was around to realize I was acting funny. When I got to class, I wrote what I needed on the board. It was a drawn out process. I wrote as much as I possibly could from each spot I stood at. Then I tried to sit down. I didn't realize how difficult that would be until I pulled my chair out to do it. When I bent slightly, the pressure inside me increased significantly, and I stood back up by reflex. Would I be able to sit down? Wearing such whorish clothes, I really needed to that day! With no bra, I needed to hide behind my desk. Students would be able to see my nipples and scabs anyhow, but it would feel like I was hiding, which would somewhat reassure me. I had learned that earlier. The addition of the vile plug and dildo, however, made it even more important to avoid students watching me. I had to sit slowly. I relaxed as much as I could, but the pressure was still increased by sitting. The pain was ever present, but it was mild enough that I could just stand it if I leaned back and spread my legs. It seemed the farther they spread, the less painful it was, so each knee was against an arm of my chair. As long as I relaxed that way, I could bare the pain.

Fourth period went as smooth as you could expect, considering I felt like I had a really bad cramp that some things were forcefully pressing against. Darla was there, and she was the last to leave class. She came up to the desk and slid a note deftly onto my desk as some people from the next class came in. She said something about the assignment to cover the note, and then she left. Fuck her! How was I going to write on the board for this class, let alone stand to do it? And this was the class that was lagging, too. I couldn't just give them a free period. I figured I would take a Tylonal, so the class would think I didn't feel well. It was brilliant, since it was true. It might help relieve the pain. Why hadn't I considered it before? I took four. Instead of writing anything on the board, I simply lectured from my relaxed position at my desk. It was strange to do, and the students seemed to pay less attention than they should have, but I was in no mood to discipline anyone. It seemed to work, mostly. Sixth hour was easy. All that class had to do was turn in a final draft, and they could get the rest of the class off. I was relieved that, throughout the whole day, nobody really stared at my chest. Indeed, they seemed to look at it less than usual. I hoped that didn't indicate they were looking more, and so were more cautious of when I looked up at them. By the time the final bell rang, the pain was beginning to amplify, as though it was becoming a bruise that was getting pushed on.

When that whole class left, I read the note Darla had given me earlier:

bitch,

You're going to wait for me after class, in the position as usual. I'll knock thrice. I'm going to turn the vibes on when you start sucking my clit. If you do a good enough job, you'll get to take the harness off and the dildo and ass-plug out before I leave. Otherwise it's going to have to wait until either you're in your car or whenever you get to where you put the key that was to the boots you wore Saturday night.

XOXOXO
Your Mistress

I didn't want to stand or move, and I especially didn't want to take my clothes off and wait in an odd position. I just wanted those things out of me! Who would wear things like this? How wide and deep do women get that they might find it fun? And to top things off, I felt like I had to make a number two really badly. Getting up was difficult, since I flexed to do it. The pain shot me back and I caught myself on the wall. I was lucky I didn't fall over my chair and to the floor. I pushed off the wall and walked over to the door. Each step hurt just like earlier, so it took me a while, and some sharp inward breaths, to get there. I took my shirt off without too much problem. I never realized how many muscle groups flexed to get a shirt off until then. The skirt I simply let drop and I left it there. I knelt very slowly. It was hard to get down without flexing my insides. I did a little anyhow, and the pain increased, so I just fell to my knees. They cracked against the floor and it hurt, but not any worse than a good flex would do inside my bowels or against my cervix. I picked up my skirt and tossed it to the corner around the doorway, with my blouse, and then scooted up to the door very slowly.

I spread my knees to touch the doorway, and it wasn't at all like in the chair. At the door, on the floor, spreading my legs made things worse. There was no camera, so I decided not to lean my breasts against the door until I heard someone outside of it. I just slumped and tried to relieve as much pressure as I could. I flopped my head to the side once in a while and sighed. I was very uncomfortable, and if I didn't have to be there for Darla I'd have been sitting in my chair instead. As it was, I wasn't sure I'd be able to wait. Each minute made sitting on my knees like that more painful, and more uncomfortable otherwise as well.

Then I heard someone approach the door from down the hall. I moved forward and was instantly even less comfortable. A jolt of pain shot up my abdomen, and remained until I forced myself to relax. When my breasts touched the door and my hands were on my head, the doorknob rattled. I was stunned for a moment. Then someone knocked. Once. Following the knock was a male voice, "Lisa, are you in there?"

It was the Principal! I immediately flexed from the anxiety. The flexing made me almost slam farther into the door, but my breasts were already there. I simply bounced back from them. I had to act fast. I stood as quickly as I could, aided by the pain it caused deep in my butt and vagina. I had a hard time balancing as I shot up, but I got there and stayed. He knocked again as I picked up my clothes. The shot of pain from bending over for those caused me to run into the wall. I stayed bent and pulled my skirt on when I came up. The jolts of pain were with basically every movement, but the Principal had a key, and there was no way I was getting caught nude in my classroom. I put my shirt on, which was less painful than the skirt by far, though it still certainly hurt. When I had myself straightened out I opened the door. I put my arms folded in front of my chest to hide my lack of bra. The principal stood there and looked me over. He seemed disappointed, and handed me my mail I didn't stop at the office for that morning.

"Lisa, there's a meeting tomorrow morning... why was your door locked?" He asked, glancing at the door.

I wished I could push my legs closer together, but they were already as close as I could bare. I had to compromise between pain and standing awkwardly. The more pain, the less awkward it would look, but it also distracted me. Still, they seemed far too open. They were certainly wider than anyone might be expected to have them if they were standing with regular pants on, and I had a skirt! My feet were about two feet apart. I felt almost like the principal could see up my skirt and realize the giant dildo and butt plug were there, but that didn't give me motivation to shut my legs. The mail was actually a nice pile, with papers mismatched in size and shape. It took both arms to hold them, and even though I tried to cover back up, the principle could see I wasn't wearing a bra. I gathered my voice to answer, "I wanted some privacy for a few minutes."

"Why aren't you wearing a bra with a shirt that...?" He motioned at me. I got the impression I'd be less embarrassed if I hadn't gotten my shirt back on. As it was, it seemed I was trying to hide something. If my shirt were off, at least that impression would be gone. Actually, probably not. I still very much wanted him ignorant about the harness and what it held in me.

"I got hot after class, and took it off. That's why I wanted privacy." I said as I made a show of covering myself with the papers. It felt almost like I was leaving my crotch wide open, but I had to act more self-conscious about my torso or else he might end up suspecting something about my crotch, too. Honestly, I was surprised he already didn't. I certainly wasn't standing normally.

The principal averted his eyes from my chest and asked "Where is your bra, then?"

Oh no, he had to have overheard some student talking about how I had been braless all day! "In my purse. Sorry, I should have put it back on. I didn't think about it."

He didn't seem to believe me, but he nodded anyway and said, "Okay. Be at the meeting tomorrow. There's a flier about it in your mail."

With that, he left. With my door shut and the option to relax, I walked backwards to the nearest student desk. I sat with my legs spread as far as they could go, to the bar holding the desk and the other against the back. I put my head down on the corner of the desk, which took some more pressure from my insides. I wanted those things out of me! Sure, I was embarrassed to be caught as I was, but the discomfort and pain inside my softest places was nearing unbearable. A few minutes later, I took my clothes off and slumped with my knees against the door frame, again.

It was maybe ten minutes before Darla showed up. Like last week, she had me go down on her right at the door. She shut the door against herself to press her crotch into my mouth, and then I felt the vibrator turn on. It wasn't on as powerfully as it could get, but it still made me jump. I felt something pressing into the back wall of her vagina, and I realized she had a butt-plug in, too. Hers was vibrating. Something was in her hand and she held my face into her crotch. The vibrating from the dildo made me remain tense, and it hurt the whole time. In order to get it out as soon as possible, though I had to make Darla cum. It was difficult to concentrate and not jump away, but I forced myself to stay, since I knew from experience that jumping away wouldn't have any effect at all. The real trick was keeping my hands on my head instead of wherever they wanted to go whenever the pain jolted up my spine. Very quickly, Darla came. She relaxed against the door for a while, holding my head against her vulva as she spasmed. When she relaxed, I was more infuriated with every second she wasn't unlocking the lock.

She did something with what was in her hand, and her plug started vibrating more. It went into my face and made it feel funny. In addition, my plug started vibrating and my dildo got faster. I tried to lick her labia and suck her clit to get that over with, but all I could do was press my mouth against her vulva and moan loudly. Tears escaped my eyes, and the pain was too much to handle. I couldn't focus on anything. My hands went down to my crotch and butt to try to pull the harness there a little looser. It worked moderately well. She grabbed my head again and pulled me in, saying, "Suck my clit, bitch!"

I rolled my midsection around to try to relieve the pressure, but nothing worked. I licked as well as I could, but my lips curled and sucking was out of the question. Darla had another orgasm, and it seemed more powerful than the last. When she was done spasming, she let go of me, and I slumped onto the floor. I found myself on my right side, hands still tugging down on the crotch of the harness. I was crying very lightly. Then both vibrators started going faster. It felt like they were trying to burrow deeper into me, and like they were succeeding. After a moment, I started feeling too numb to feel the pain. I got up onto my elbow, and held the crotch with only my left hand. The numbness took on some quality I can't describe, because the best I can do is 'deep, powerful, and green'. It felt... odd. Then I moved my left hand to try to get up. The pain was gone for the most part, being replaced by the strange numbness. When I pushed myself up to an awkward sitting, the numbness took on a different quality. I knew what was happening. It was feeling good. It was feeling like it would build up to the best, deepest orgasm I'd ever been built up to. I couldn't allow Darla to do that! I hated Darla! I didn't want her to be able to pleasure me like that! Especially in this way. How could something so terrible bring such a feeling?! I couldn't move, though, so I shouted "No! No, no, no no no no, no nonnono NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

With the last no, the orgasm hit me like a truck. It probably looked like I was having a seizure. I flopped onto my back, curled my legs up, grabbed my crotch, and rolled around shaking for uncountable moments. I lost control of my body. I was washed with waves of pleasure, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. In the middle of it, I didn't want it to stop, but it was soon over, and the vibrators were being slowly turned off. I was out of breath and the intruders simply didn't hurt or bother me after that. As the last few waves washed over me, Darla leaned down to me, gave me a deep kiss that I returned far more than I'd like to admit, and she removed the lock on her way up. She left without saying a word. As soon as I had the energy back to do it with, I got furious. I quickly removed the harness and pulled out the intruders. It didn't hurt to do.

The fury soon abated, and I found myself extremely relaxed, laying on the floor. I tried not to think about anything. I was physically exhausted, like I just got done exercising without pacing myself. But it felt like I exercised my insides. If I didn't start getting cold, I don't know when I'd have gotten up. I did, and I collected my things. I put the harness and the intruders in my briefcase, and went home. I found it difficult to think about what happened on the drive home. Not because I was still relaxed, that passed. I simply knew it would infuriate me to the point I'd speed and perhaps get a ticket, and I simply didn't want to drive while raging. I had to get home before reacting to what happened.

When I pulled up to my building, I couldn't help but think about what had happened. Darla had taken my underwear, which meant that the kids playing on the grassy hill behind me might get a good view up my skirt if I didn't get out of my car carefully. Try as I might, I could feel the air on my naked rear when I bent to get things from the passenger seat. I don't know why I didn't grab that stuff before opening my door. I quickly got out and into my apartment. My skirt might have bounced, it might not have. My concern was that I got inside. Darla had given me the best orgasm of my life. It was so good that it immobilized me! How could that be?! How can someone I hate give me an orgasm at all?! I threw my briefcase against the wall when I got inside. My purse landed in the middle of the floor. I took a shower and dressed in jeans and a large tee shirt, with a bra under it. I didn't put underwear on, I pretended I had regular underwear on. Later that night, I learned that my period had started. It was very weak, and there was nothing on anything, yet, so I caught it just as it was starting. I blamed the fluctuating hormones for the power of the orgasm, earlier. No way Darla had done it. I hated her, she couldn't give me such an intense orgasm, dammit!

After I got everything done I needed to and had dinner, I decided to look more into forced orgasms. Again, I came up with mostly people who were willing and it was a game. They weren't forced to orgasm unwillingly, they simply got tied up and played with until they orgasmed. But then, I discovered a blog. It was written by a women who was in her twenties, but she was writing about when she was raped at the age of 15. Not only was the rape fairly violent, involving her being tied up, slapped, and spanked, but she orgasmed during it. A man had managed to grab her while at her school's football game and drag her to inside the building without anyone noticing. He took her to the back of the theater, where he tied her up, cut her clothes off with an exactoknife, and raped her. She said she didn't enjoy the rape a bit, but her body somehow reacted to it, and she orgasmed three times. The man had been raping her vaginally for about a minute, according to the only clock she could see, and then she felt a strange pressure inside of her. The pressure became pleasant, and she orgasmed. The rapist was convinced, afterwards, that she liked getting raped. He continued raping her for several more minutes, and she had another. The describes him having an evil voice, and he said "If you like that, you'll love this!", and then violently raped her anally. While being raped anally, she had a third orgasm.

During the rape, she was horrified and confused. She felt betrayed, helpless, and hopeless. After the rapist was done with her, he hand-cuffed her to a pipe running through a storage room. She tried to wriggle free for a while, but then it became obvious to her that the cuffs were too tight. She was found by a janitor over two days later, in a puddle of her own excrement. She was dehydrated and in a coma. The coma lasted only five hours after getting to a hospital, where they fed and hydrated her intravenously. I read most of her blog, late into the night. The rapist was never found.

To this day, she claims the rape was the most horrible time of her life. Regardless, she plays out rape fantasies with her boyfriend. She never fantasized about rape until she was raped, and the fantasies always creep her out, but she became obsessed with having orgasms as good as the ones the rapist gave her. She says she has never duplicated their intensity. She seemed to flip back and forth between being happy with her life, and being depressed over the memory she didn't let die. The only thing I had in common with that woman was that I was raped and forced to orgasm during it, but it made me feel a little better knowing someone out there had the same problem. I sent her an email, but didn't hear back from her. I went to bed and slept surprisingly well.

The staff meeting the next day was to discuss revisions of the teacher's dress code. I could feel the principal's eyes burn into me throughout the meeting, and that made the soreness of my vagina and deep in my butt seem exaggerated. I imagined the revision would involve enforcing longer skirts, but skirt length was untouched. The revisions mostly just required "appropriate undergarments" and it limited low cut tops to five inches below a person's neck line. The first rule seemed stupidly ambiguous to me, and the second one meant I could wear something cut lower than anything I had worn already. The revision seemed not only like a waste of time, but it didn't actually fix any of my problems! Maybe my mood changes were effecting my opinion, though. At least Darla couldn't make me go braless at work again.

Classes went as usual that day, and Darla seemed like just another student. Except, of course, for my seething hatred of her. She played the role of a regular student, I should say. I waited for her at the door to class in just my thong, as was regular, and she had me work her to one orgasm before leaving. That was fine, I didn't want to talk to her. Something in the back of my mind nagged to tell her about my monthly flow, but that would abate by the weekend. I've never had a very heavy flow. By the time I got home Thursday, it was over.

On Friday, things went "normally", except Darla left another note on my desk when she left class:

bitch,

Do not wait for me after class, today. Instead, do whatever you need to do tonight. I would suggest getting any work you need to do done, and then getting in some sleep. You're going to be in this classroom at 3AM, tomorrow morning. You're going to bring the butt-plug and lube you have, as well as those gloves you wore last Saturday night. You're going to bring those things later. Wear whatever you want to the classroom, in addition to your collar.

XOXOXO
Your Mistress

I didn't want another one of her stupid games! I don't want to go walk around some public place in the nude! I especially didn't want to be forced to fellate strangers! Dammit!

I did have some work to do, so I went home and did it. I mostly had to check over some papers, but that didn't take long. I didn't want to go to bed early, but I did. I woke up at 1:30 and got ready for whatever Darla was going to torture me with. I wore regular jeans and a sweater, over a comfortable bra. I went without underwear again, figuring Darla was just going to make me take it off anyhow. At least without any, I didn't have that string riding up my butt and reminding me why I didn't have any other underwear.

I got to the school before 3, and put on Darla's stupid collar after getting inside. When I got to class, I saw two bags on my desk. I also brought a bag with the items Darla requested I bring. I didn't turn the light on, because I knew I was going to end up naked, and I didn't want attention drawn to this classroom or to make it easier to see into. There was a note in front of the two bags on my desk. I lifted it up and read it close to my face, since there wasn't much light to read by. It was difficult to make out:

bitch,

Strip nude. Take off everything except your collar. Put everything you're currently wearing in the empty bag on your desk, and then put that bag in or under your desk. You won't see that again until you come to work on Monday. And I mean put everything in that bag, too. That includes your purse and everything in it, your keys, your phone, EVERYTHING except your collar and the things I told you to bring. Once you're nude, take the bag that has things in it, as well as everything I told you to bring, and go to the bathroom. Lock your classroom door on your way out. Once in the bathroom, follow the instructions in the bag you took with you.

XOXOXO
Your Mistress

I followed the instructions. There wasn't room in my desk, so I put the bag under it. The floor seemed very cold on bare feet. I had a sinking sensation when I shut the classroom door. That stuck me into my situation. Not like I wasn't stuck before, but it made it seem more real. I was nude, locked outside the classroom I taught in. I was nude at work. I had been nude at work before, but never lacking the ability to jump back into my clothes if I needed to. This was different. I was not behind my classrooms door. The cold air flowed by, but it also made it seem a bit desolate, which was sort of good. Sneaking down the hall and around the corner made me sure that someone was going to be here, though. The bags I was holding were plastic, and they crinkled and made noise with every step. If someone was here, with how quiet the place was, they'd be bound to hear. I was worried the bathrooms might get locked at night. Do they even have locks? No. When I got to the bathroom I realized the door didn't have any locks. That made sense, but it didn't make me feel at all secure. I turned the bathroom lights on to read the note in the bag, since the bathroom was pitch dark without the light on. I hoped nobody would notice the light through the cracks between the door and door frame:

bitch,

Douche and enema, then put on the stockings and the garter belt. Once that's on, put on the bustier and the shoes, and lock those on. Then put the butt plug in, and put on the gloves. Take all the garbage with you to the stairwell West of your classroom, the one on the Northwest corner of the school, with doors on the insides and outside. You'll find further instructions there.

XOXOXO
Your Mistress

The douche was unwelcome, but I had to do it, and it wasn't gross as I knew the enema would be. The enema, on the other hand, was just as awful as I remembered and expected. It felt like I filled myself too full with diarrhea, and releasing it made disgusting noises and felt dirty. It didn't get better the second time. The garter belt was a lacy black thing, and it was sturdy. It held the lacy black stockings snuggly, but not too snuggly. I'd go so far as to say it was comfortable. It would have made me feel sexy if I wanted to be doing any of the stuff I was doing. It made a circle that outlined my womanhood, drew attention to it seductively, and outlined the kind of heart shape of my rear, too. The belt was designed to go with those particular stockings, it looked too good to be an incidental match. The bustier was also black, and it had frilly laces on the bottom and top. It was cut short at the top, though. It wasn't the kind that also supported breasts, really. It had two beginnings of cups without lace that held my breasts up, but it didn't cover any but the very bottom of them. They seemed to point straight ahead, showing me which way to go. The shoes were something out of fiction. They were mostly like normal, black dress shoes, except the strap around my ankle locked and the heel was ridiculously high. I estimated five inches.

The butt plug wasn't as bad as I remembered it. I also took more time putting it in, though. It probably took me two minutes just to get that in. I felt like I was cramping as I pushed, and it burned a little. Again, when it got all the way in, I shot to a standing position. It didn't hurt as bad, but I was pretty sure that was because it wasn't accompanied by the dildo pressing against it and deep into my vagina. I found it easier to walk, anyway. It still pressed uncomfortably deep into me, and it hurt sharply if I didn't relax enough, but it was easier to relax and it didn't seem to hurt as much. Once the gloves were on and I was walking around, I realized why I hated the boots all over again. The shoes were just as clacky as those boots were. They were very loud, when considering nothing else in the school was making any noise. I slid, as I did at the mall. It was made very difficult because I had to focus a lot on balancing in the outlandish heels, and it didn't slide as easily. I couldn't make a smooth slide, as I couldn't keep my weight from pressing down more on either the heel or front. To make it worse, if I stepped too far, I came close to falling sideways. That wasn't a very relaxing way to walk, and I had half a mind to take out the butt plug until I got where Darla wanted me. Would however she punished me be worse than the sharp pain the plug shot up through my posterior whenever I didn't take a step light enough? At first I simply pulled on the end of the plug a bit with each step, to keep it from pressing so far into me. That worked slightly. It didn't hurt as much, but not relaxing enough still hurt sharply. Then I realized it would hurt less if I took normal steps. I managed to avoid the sharp pain by walking normally and pulling the plug a bit with each step, but then the shoes clacked loudly. Well, I can't say I walked normally, really, since I had a huge gate, but it was as close to normal as I could get. I knew nobody was in the school except me, though, so it was a chance I was willing to take to avoid the constant pain and chance of falling.

I had the impression someone was looking from down the hall when I got to the corner with the stairwell, but I couldn't see anyone. Still, I hurried through the doors, drawing the hopefully imagined observer's attention to me even more via shoe clacks. And I didn't really hurry, either. I had such a difficult time balancing that I went about the same pace. Falling on my face wouldn't get me to the door, after all. Darla seemed expert at making me uncomfortable. Once that door shut behind me, I was even deeper in the trap. Those doors were on an electric circuit. If the school was not open to staff or students, like at 3 AM Saturday mornings, it automatically locked. You could get in with a key, but my key was on the other side of the door, and then behind yet another locked door. There was a sort of balcony at this stairwell, where you could see the stairs to the right, and the first floor below you. The front of the stairwell was brick, but the doors were mostly glass.

There was nowhere for me to hide. The best I could do was get behind the stairs and hope vision was obscured to the outside enough that people didn't notice I was there. Or maybe I could get low on the floor of the balconyish second floor. No matter where I went, if someone looked in, they'd notice that I was wearing lingerie, and that my privates were exposed. I hoped Darla's game wasn't like it was at the mall, except at the school. I knew where the cameras were inside the school. Though there were only a few, if I passed by one without a mask on and walking around showing off my privates, I'd certainly lose my job. Perhaps this was how Darla was going to send me to prison? Did she leave those pictures in clear view of the camera, and I had to go there, too? I shoved that idea from my head.

My left hand holding the plug from going too deep into my anus and my right arm holding the bags in front of me, I walked down to the first floor in search of the instructions Darla said she left for me. I had a difficult time deciding if I wanted my crotch or my breasts covered more, but I ended up choosing my crotch by the time I got to the bottom of the stairs. I saw a mostly empty bag sitting next to the garbage can, which was to the right of the inner first story doors (looking out), almost behind the stairs. It was on the inside of the stairs so I got behind them myself and carefully bent down to inspect it. I managed to avoid the sharp pain of the plug going too deep, but it was still otherwise uncomfortable. I had the thought to take it out until I got closer to Darla cross my mind. I didn't know when I'd see her, so I'd leave it until it became unbearable. Unfortunately. On inspecting the bag, a note was in it, as well as two pairs of hand-cuffs, two thick, black cuffs with rings coming from either side, a ball in the middle of collar looking straps, and nipple clamps.

bitch,

Put the two ankle cuffs on your ankles, put the ball gag in your mouth and strap it snuggly, then put the nipple clamps on. Once those are on, put one of the hand-cuff rings through the ring of your collar and lock it in place. Put the ring behind you. Cuff your hands behind you with the other pair of hand cuffs, and then cuff the chain of that pair into the ring hanging from the cuffs on your collar. Throw away all your garbage and my instructions in the trash can you're next to, and then watch for a white car to pull up to the side walk outside the doors. When you feel your butt plug begin to vibrate, run out to the car. And I mean run, bitch. If you don't get out there in time, the car will drive off, leaving you trapped here.

XOXOXO
Your Mistress

Her instructions were horrible. With my hands cuffed and held up by the other pair, I'd be unable to keep the plug from plunging naturally deeper into me. And I'd be unable to do anything about the nipple clamps. How long would I be waiting for the car? Well, if she got there soon I didn't want to get in trouble, so I followed the instructions. I threw away everything I needed to before putting anything on. The ankle cuffs were easy enough to put on, though I had a difficult time with bending over to do it. I tried it one handed, but had to slowly let go of the plug to get both hands on it. I pulled the plug slightly as I stood up and put the rest of the items on a step. I could reach through the stairs to get things without bending over, that way. The ball gag was also pretty easy to put on. The ball seemed too large, but it fit in my mouth and held it open not quite uncomfortably, though it would get that way if it stayed for a long time. I hesitated before putting on the nipple clamps. Not only did it hurt, but it reminded me of Jake and made me concerned why he never called me back. I applied them slowly, but the pinching was constant and inescapable. I put one pair of handcuffs hanging from the ring on my collar by one of the cuffs, then spun my collar so that it hung onto my back. The other pair I used to cuff my own hands behind myself. It wasn't too difficult, but made me just a little more nervous.

With my hands already behind me, there was no reason not to follow the commands and restrain the chain of my cuffs with the dangling cuff. That was difficult, especially with the butt plug constantly jabbing into my insides whenever I tried to stress my back, and the imbalance of the shoes. I could almost reach the dangling cuff, but then the jolt of pain would hit and I couldn't hold the position. With the ball gag in my mouth, I couldn't even stifle noises I made very well. It doesn't occur to you how much easier it is to not whine when your mouth is closed until you can't close it. The whines were a bit muffled, but I made them anyhow, and certainly couldn't form words. I got sick of it. Darla wasn't there, yet, and there were no cameras. I reached down and slowly slid out the butt plug. After I got it past the bump near the bottom, it slid out quickly. I reached through and set it base down on the fifth step up. I felt empty, in an ambivalent way. It both made me feel vulnerable to penetration, like my rear was more exposed to the possibility of someone looking, but I also happy the plug was out. Now I could try to get the cuffs right. It still took a lot of effort, but there were no shocks of pain from stressing my inside muscles. It took me probably a full two minutes, but I eventually got it. My hands were now stuck behind my back in an uncomfortable position. When I tried to see just how mobile my arms were, I could get my middle fingers to about the middle of the small of my back, reaching down, and I had a small arch of movement from there. Getting them that far almost choked me, though, so I held on to my wrists. That was about as comfortable as I was going to get like that. My arms like that plus the bustier made it look like I was trying to show off my breasts. I certainly wasn't, but I couldn't stop pressing them outward.

I was scared to go out from behind the steps. The doors on the inside had tall, narrow windows above the handles. If someone were inside and glanced this way, they might see me. Of course, the clacking of my damned shoes would probably already have drawn their attention, anyhow. More concerning were the front doors. I wasn't sure how long I'd be trying to get that plug back in my anus, but I was sure it wouldn't be very fast. Those doors were mostly glass, so a field, drive way, a few pillars to the side of the sidewalk holding up the roof thingy outside, then those doors were the only thing between onlookers and I. None of those things provided much if any cover.

I was about to go out and try, but a car drove by on the road. It made me realize how vulnerable I was. It was even worse than the previous weekend. I was dressed a way I thought was sexier, and I didn't have a mask hiding who I was. While anyone could see me from the outside, they couldn't get in. However, I wouldn't really have anywhere to go to avoid their gaze, since I couldn't get further into the building, and they could break the glass if they really wanted in. If anyone were inside, they would have no problem coming through the doors and finding me. My clacking feet would ensure anyone passing by the inside doors would get curious about who was out there. My breasts were sticking out, unabashedly, with a chain connecting painful nipple clamps, and I couldn't do anything to cover either my womanhood or my rear since my hands were cuffed specifically out of the way. My clothes worked to accentuate where they didn't cover. If anyone even caught a glance of me, they'd realize I was wearing lingerie, not actual clothes. It was obvious, they were black and contrasted sharply with the white of my skin. And the "bitch" spelled out in pink on the collar would make them think I wanted it that way, perhaps that I liked showing off my body to strangers, that I was an excitement craving sexaholic. My situation was hopeless. I wanted to retreat home, and probably would have if I could have.

Well, commiserating wouldn't solve anything, and I didn't want to get punished for not having the butt plug in. I quickly clacked around the stairs, hoping nobody drove by and that I was quick. I knew it was going to be more difficult than I anticipated the instant I started up the stairs. I had no hands to support myself in any meaningful way, so I had to somehow crouch backwards on the stairs, slowly lowering myself onto the plug wearing my insanely tall heels. And what if I couldn't relax enough and shot up from a jolt of pain when it got too deep? I couldn't catch myself if I started falling! I could kick it down to the floor and try it behind the stairs, but how would I be sure it would land on the bottom? If it landed on it's side it certainly wouldn't be clean enough that I'd be okay putting it back in my butt, but Darla probably wouldn't consider that an excuse! And would I be able to use my feet to get it pointed up, or would I fall over trying?

Well, I had to do something, so I knelt slowly on the step below the plug. I was extra careful because of the ridiculous heels. Balancing in them was much more difficult than I know how to describe. If I missed a step with the actual heel, I'd certainly take a spill. With my arms behind me as they were, I was desperate to avoid that. I got down sideways so that if I fell, I could fall backwards and catch myself on the rail, maybe. Once I was on my knees, I carefully turned and put my feet under the step the plug was on. It wasn't much more difficult balancing on my knees than the heels anyhow, except my knees were part of me and it was easier to intuit. Once I was facing the front, I searched for the plug with my posterior. It was a bit to the side, so I adjusted to align with it. I realized a line of drool was dripping from my bottom lip as I lowered my anus directly over the plug, but there was certainly nothing to be done about that. I couldn't close my mouth, after all. I tried to suck it back in, but that just seemed to make it drip faster.

Just before I started lowering my anus over the plug, a car drove by. I tensed and stopped with my asphincter resting atop the plug. I didn't think there was any way that car wouldn't have noticed me. The only lights on in the stairwell were the exit sign above the door, but that was still more light than was outside! I waited to see if they'd slow down, possibly to enter the end of the U shaped driveway the buses leave from that leads to right in front of the doors, but they kept driving. I couldn't delay. I focused on relaxing, and slowly dropped down. I got a few inches of the plug into me, but then the back of my thighs hit the edge of the step. I started to slide back up, but I realized the angle of my rear altered how the plug was sitting, and if I got all the way off the plug it'd likely fall over. I could slide back down the plug and then use the edge of the stair to use my legs as a lever, but how would I control my decent onto the plug? Pushing against the back of the stair with my shins might work, but it would also hurt my shins and I wasn't confident I had the strength to descend slowly enough. I tried to get up off the plug one more time, but the base of the plug only slid farther back a little, making the angle even worse.

Just as I was trying to choose between trying to catch myself with my shins on the edge and at a bad angle or trying to find a way to get the plug in me after it fell down, another car drove by. This one was going the opposite way as the other, and it seemed like it was going slower than the speed limit. Was it the car that passed me earlier, coming to get a better view? If not, was it going so slow to look at me anyway? That made the decision for me. Even if the person driving that car could see, I had to get the plug in me so I could get back behind the stairs. I pushed up with my shins, but kept my knees at an angle. It scraped the back of my thighs, but it was getting the plug into me slowly. The car was out of view by the time I got too far. I simply lacked the strength to hold myself up that way, and I plummeted down onto the plug. That was much more painful than it normally was when it got too deep. It felt like, well, something was unmercifully jabbed up my rear. The jolt of pain traveled through my intestines and I screamed a muffled cry. The drool that was dribbling down my chin landed on my left breast. The jolt wasn't kind on my breasts, either, as I realized shortly after I screamed that my nipples hurt a bit more, too. Tears were dribbling down my cheeks. I knew I was trapped with the plug painfully plunged into me. I had no way of getting it out, after then. I wished I had waited to put it back in.

The plug was still getting pressed deeply into me, which I relieved slightly by leaning most of my weight onto my right cheek. The sharpness of the pain faded as I did that. A few more tears found their way down my cheeks, and I pulled my legs out from under the step I was on. How was I supposed to get up? The answer came to me immediately. I moved my feet down one step and then pulled my butt over the edge of the step it was on, careful to land on one cheek instead of two. The edge of that step scraped my back a little, but nothing bad. It was certainly better than the pain of the plug. Maybe I should have just left it in. I scooted down the stairs until my feet were on the floor. It took a while, since I had to try to remain relaxed as I slid each step. I couldn't relax fully, of course, and I got a jolt of pain each time. How I wished I were at home and in bed! I rolled back and then forward, going with my momentum to end up on my feet. the sharp pain in my intestines was almost more than I could handle, and the heels almost made me go sideways, but I landed against a door and remained up. I didn't want to keep my breasts pressed against the door for long, though, so I immediately moved backwards and slowly, calmly, walked back to behind the steps. on my way, it seemed like I heard a car pass, but I didn't want to strain any muscles looking. I knew they got a good view of my backside. I had to hurry up and get behind the stairs to try and hide if they decided to come back around and gawk. Since I couldn't hurry up, I simply kept concentrating on getting there.

I watched outside the doors, through the steps, for quite a while. The nipple clamps stopped bothering me so much, but my arms were getting sore. I relaxed them a bit, which caused them to pull on the collar and choke me slightly. I relaxed a bit less. I relaxed only as much as I could without too much force on my throat. I got a slight jolt of pain from my rear when I heard a door shut upstairs. It was down the hall from the stairwell, but that meant that someone else was in the school! What if they heard the clacking of my heels on the steps?! What if they just happened to leave this way? I heard slight footfalls through the hall, but I couldn't tell which way it was going. It didn't seem to be fading. Then another door opened and closed. I didn't hear the first open, which meant whomever that was was getting closer! Would they see me out the window when I went out to the car that pulled up? Would they come this way and find me before the car pulled up. As much as I didn't want to go wherever the car would take me, it was better than being stuck like I was until someone I work with (or, worse, a student!) found me! I could hear footprints get closer to the doors on the second floor. As counterintuitive as it was, I hoped the car would show up very soon.

Moments

The door opened and shut, and I heard the footprints. I was glad that they were on the second floor, but that just meant they'd come this way if they wanted in the first floor! Assuming they had keys, anyway. And I did assume that, since they were necessary to get into the building in the first place. I stood as quietly as I could, trying to remain relaxed. I took more shallow breaths. What if it was a janitor? Did they ever come here at about that time? I hadn't really considered that. If it was, he'd probably come for the garbage I was standing next to! Where was that white car?! Then I saw the reflection. The windows in the front doors reflected a little of the doors upstairs, but poorly. I saw someone walk by them! Could they see my reflection? Had they actually passed by the door? The footprints stopped right after I saw the reflection, so were they trying to figure out what my reflection was of?!

I couldn't tell if someone were looking out the upstairs doors window, but could they see me? If so, how much detail? Could they tell I was wearing a black under bust corset and stockings and a garter belt holding them, and little besides those two items? Would that attract them down here in itself? How would they react? Would they remove the ball gag so that I could explain myself? What would I say? The nipple clamps were bothering me a bit more, and the heels were hurting my feet, but neither of those compared to the plug, yet. Would I be able to keep myself from nervously tightening up on the huge butt-plug, forcing it into that sensitive area inside me and, in turn, the sharp pain? Then I heard the footsteps continue down the other way. I stood watching the reflection, but I didn't see anything.

I stood around and worried for another while, and I heard nothing from inside the school. Then I noticed some light getting brighter on the drive that passed by the doors, and the pillars on this side of it. It not only got brighter, but narrower. It was obviously headlights. As much as I dreaded the appearance of the white car, I hoped it was the car that was pulling up! If it was a different car, whomever was driving would surely see me, and it would surely not be Darla, or whoever she had picking me up. Then it pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the doors, and it was surely white. I wanted to be relieved, but that didn't happen. I was actually more concerned. I was supposed to run out to the car when the plug vibrated. What was she waiting for? I could see the outlines of two people in the front seat, but no details. I could discern that they were looking in, but that was all.

Was that the right car? Was it passers-by who noticed me, and pulled in to gawk? If so, they knew I was there, and I knew they were. The pain from the ridiculous heels started radiating up my legs, the nipple clamps hurt a bit more, my arms were sore, and the plug was very uncomfortable. The fact of being dressed so slutty, of being so exposed, almost made me try to open the inside doors and run from the scene. Why would two people be in the car? Surely Darla would have picked me up alone. I suddenly remembered Mr Soorly, a math teacher, drove a white car. Was that him and his wife? What would he say? Who would he tell? I didn't remember his car having tinted windows, but I didn't remember it not having them, either! I hadn't checked to see if the front door was locked. I didn't think I had to, but what if they were unlocked? What if that was whomever was just inside the school, coming to see what the reflection on the door was of? If it was the janitors, they could come inside for sure! What would they do? Would they ask why I was there and dressed that way, or would they be less gentlemanly? More than ever, I would be defenseless against whatever would be done to me, if whomever was gawking me was less than noble. What if it was a couple of very fortunate rapists or murderers?!

Even though I was half-hoping for it, I was surprised when the plug started vibrating. I inadvertently tightened my insides up, causing a jolt of pain. It didn't seem I could recover from it, either. I remained anxious and tight. The sharp pain remained. Making it difficult to take any steps without making it worse. I stood straighter, and it would be obvious to those in the car that I moved in reaction to something. If they had the controller, they'd know what it was. If it was anyone who didn't know I was being forced into this, they'd probably presume the reaction was due to liking the sensation. I hesitated too long, and the vibrations increased in intensity. I remembered Darla told me to run out to the car on that signal, and I got it a few minutes after that car had pulled up, so I tried to do that despite my fear. My situation simply wasn't in my hands, so I had to trust the untrustworthy. The shoes being difficult to balance in wasn't too big a problem, even with my arms behind me at such an odd angle. The collar being tugged lightly and the nipple clamps didn't impede my running. That damned plug, on the other hand, was pressing painfully deep! It was difficult to relax with the vibrating, and it seemed to press farther in anyway. As much as I'd have liked to run regardless the pain, I simply couldn't do it. I walked, no more. I used a little of my focus to stop from tearing up. It was made easier when the vibrating pressure became little more than an uncomfortable, numb fuzziness, too. I was surprised when that happened, but it made getting to the car easier.

I made it out to the car and saw Tony and Darla in the front, Darla was driving. I was standing next to it, and both of the front doors opened. Tony got out and stood facing me as Darla got out and opened the back door on her side. Tony got very close to me and grabbed my waist to make me turn towards him. The uncomfortable and mildly painful numbness was constant, so the motion didn't bother me significantly more than just standing would have. What really bothered me a lot, however, was how Tony grabbed my left butt cheek with his right hand, and my chin with his left. He pulled me into an embrace by my rear and licked my mouth around the ball that was in it. My breasts were pushed into his chest, nipples first, and the clamps smashed and bent them in painful ways. I pulled back slightly and meekly, but I was so scared of whatever was going to happen by Tony's hands and possible punishment I'd get for resisting that I was stuck in place. Also, he was simply more powerful than I was, and I was in a poor state for resisting someone even my own strength. When he started to lightly grind his crotch into mine, I realized the evil, anal intruder was starting to make me feel physically, even though not mentally or emotionally, good. I had to consciously stop myself from grinding back. His eyes seemed to have a malevolent quality to them, as though he knew about my suffering on all levels and got off on it. It seemed he knew I was not into it, that my body was, once again, betraying me.

After a moment of licking my lips he pulled away, though his hand stayed on my butt. He was kneading it very softly, but powerfully. I was thankful for him moving away, since my nipples were free from being pressed down into him. I was immediately disappointed again when he moved his left hand from my chin down to my crotch. Without a moment of hesitation he slid a finger into my vagina, which put up far too little resistance. He used his palm to push into my crotch forcefully. Not roughly, he simply pushed against it so that I moved backwards from it. Then he pushed me right back where I was, using my butt, which he kneaded more roughly as he did so. He seemed to be making a game of seeing how he could make me move. It was terrible because the pain in my ass was increased a bit, but his finger also felt good in my vagina. I absolutely hated being forced to feel good like that! It was the worst feeling in the world! As I moved backwards, the good from the finger faded into pain in my ass, which he then rolled forward into pleasure in my vagina. I absolutely hated him for it. I halfheartedly tried to reach down to move his hands, but my own were stubbornly stuck behind me yet. I didn't have the option to pull away or down from him, since he was literally holding me in place. To top it all off, I had been making meager noises that the gag prevented me from muting entirely, but also caused me to make in the first place due to my mouth being opened. It sounded like moaning, and it probably was. I hated myself for being unable to stop the noises, and I hated Darla for putting me in such a situation, and I hated Tony for embarrassing me and invading me like the monster he obviously was. When I looked away, he said "Shit, you little whore, remind me to put that vibrator up your ass when I'm fucking your cunt, later. That would feel great!"

Then Darla leaned over the roof of the car from the other side, door still open, and said "Let's get her buckled up before a random cop drives by, or something."

Tony seemed to agree, as he then used my privates to push me back about a foot, and he opened my door for me. As he pulled his finger out of my vagina, my body betrayed me by trying to follow it. I chided my traitorous body. Tony didn't wait for me to get myself in, probably because I'd have a hard time doing it the way I was. He lifted me and held me by my back, under my arms, and just under my knees. I moved myself so that I didn't hit the door frame, and he set me down in the center seat. I immediately noticed the bar along the floor of the back seat. Darla and Tony were both leaning into the car, and they each grabbed one of my ankles. I didn't resist as they pulled my legs apart. There were apparently clamps of some kind that held the loops on the ankle cuffs on either end of the bar. The bar was long, too. My ankles were being pulled five feet apart, almost into the two doors. I tried to pull my knees in to cover my crotch, but my thighs could only close to an 80 degree angle at best. Darla buckled my safety belt around my waist as Tony shut the door, got in the passenger seat up front, and put his own belt on. As Tony shut his door, Darla gave me a severe look and grabbed the chain on my nipple clamps. She tugged on it painfully as I followed as far as I could, and fiercely whispered "The plug stays in because you did not run out to the car. I almost left you. You made it with two seconds remaining on my timer, you stupid bitch!"

Darla removed the nipple clamps suddenly, causing me to cringe in pain as the blood flowed back into them. She slapped my vulva hard enough to sting pretty badly. The noise it made was very wet sounding. I shot forward a little, and the fuzziness from my rear spread around. With Darla's hand on my crotch, having just slapped it hard, and the inability to close my legs at all, I felt totally vulnerable. Helpless and scared, I could not close my legs to reduce the force with which she hit my vulva, nor could I avoid her doing pretty much anything else to me. It wasn't as humiliating as when I was forced to hold myself down for a whipping, but it was definitely more scary. Especially with a strong man around. I sat upright and arched my back to angle my privates as towards the seat and out of sight as possible. Darla slapped my vulva once more and said "NEVER try to hide your pussy, or anything else, from me. Do you understand, bitch?"

I nodded slowly as she rubbed my vulva. The plug was still going, and as much as I regretted it, the pressure from her hand combined with the vibrating soon made the pain of the slap fade and become pleasure. She got a sardonic smile and slapped my vulva one last time, forcing me to grunt, then got out and shut the door. She got in the driver's side and shut her door. The car had been running the whole time, so she put it into drive and drove away. As we drove off, the vibrations stopped. I was partly thankful, since some pressure was relieved and I'd stop being so easily forced into physical pleasure, but I was still terribly anxious about what was happening. Where were we going? What was going to happen to me?

The dome light was off, so I no longer worried about people outside the car seeing me as I was. However, the two in the car kept looking back at me as I occasionally gave in to my desire to hide my privates. I wanted more mobility. I simply failed. I could not move or hide in any worthwhile way. Tony would constantly look back at me and rape me with his eyes. He always looked at my eyes last, so that I knew that he thought of me as a person last, if at all. Perhaps he looked at my eyes only to tease me. As we went, Darla had on some kind of loud rock and roll that seemed much more like noise to me. I couldn't overhear anything the two up front were saying, and it came fairly close to giving me a headache. However, it did give me the opportunity to detach myself from what they were doing and think about unrelated things, to prevent myself form having a nervous breakdown or crying. The two still looked back at me constantly, but I did my best to ignore their lecherous eyes.

I realized just how calm I could keep myself. There I was, surely on my way to get raped and abused repeatedly, and I simply sat there quietly. That thought scared me. What if that was how I lived the rest of my life? What if I spent the rest of my days raped and humiliated, remaining calm through it all?

Then another worry overwhelmed me. What would happen if we got into an accident? I would be found as I was. I certainly wanted to remain alive, but most accidents had survivors anyhow. If we got in an accident, I would probably live, and I would be found dolled up like a whore and with a sex toy in my anus, with a student driving me around. It would be even worse than if Darla turned in my pictures, because I'd be hurt and spend time at the hospital and then spend even more time in prison!

I didn't consider an accident likely, so my thoughts soon shifted to worrying about what was going to happen to me. Under the impression I was enjoying it, I knew the two in the front seat were going to rape me. Would they keep my arms behind me, to cripple any possible fight I put up? Tony was going to put his very real penis into my very real vagina. Darla had penetrated it before, but that was with toys. It wasn't nearly as real as having flesh inside of you. As concerning as that thought was, I realized it seemed none of me was off limits. The previous weekend, Tony had said something about "fucking" my "ass". That was one of the most alarming prospects I had ever considered. At the time, I had an intruder who was very uncomfortable in my anus, but that was an inanimate object! The same concerns about him being in my vagina applied to my anus.

Even worse, I was an anal virgin. It was obvious to me, at that moment, that I didn't count toys, or else I would not consider myself an anal virgin. The discomfort tried to argue it's case, but I did my best to ignore it, failed, and kept worrying about what was happening. I was an anal virgin, and that was somehow important to me. I didn't want my anal virginity stolen from me, forced from me by a berserk man who would do nothing but cause me pain. Anal virginity seemed slightly more sacred than regular virginity. Maybe just because it was the only kind I had left, but it did. It was something you should either never give away or, if you do, you should give to somebody you cared about and trusted more than even someone you'd give your vaginal virginity to, somebody who would not abuse the privilege. Why had I not given it to Chad? I didn't want my first time to be horrible. Then, why did it seem so sacred to me? What was special about the first time? It's not like anuses had hymens. And if they did, that'd just plain be bad design. But the irrational impression remained.

Why hadn't Jake called me back? He said he'd try to keep Tony away from this, right? Yet Tony was in the front seat, looking back in a way that made me wish I could close my legs even a bit more. Was he staying away from the situation because I told him to basically do exactly that? Why did I say that?! What was the point in telling him anything if I didn't want his help?! What plan did I have that any help he could provide wouldn't be welcome? And why hadn't I heard back from Chad? Was the email address I had old? Or could there be a more sinister reason? If Chad had anything to do with my situation, I would lose my sanity. There would be no way I could undergo the torture that I knew I was going to get that day without the secure thought that Chad had not been my ultimate betrayer.

My thoughts went in circles for what seemed like hours, but my view of the car's clock actually informed me was about forty minutes. My feet were on the verge of going numb, and so were my arms. Both were incredibly sore from being unable to move around. I suppose my legs could have moved a little, but I didn't have the courage to do anything except try to pull my legs together to disrupt the view to my crotch from the front seat. It did nothing, of course. My mouth was sore and I had drool all over my chin, which dripped onto my chest from the ball gag. The handcuffs leading to my collar meant both that I had to lift my arms a bit just to breath, but also that the lifting meant my arms were the sorest part of my body. Though they were the sorest part of my body, I wanted the butt-plug out of me even more than I wanted my arms free. In the last five minutes of the ride, Darla turned it back on. At first, of course, it was painful and uncomfortable. The discomfort remained those full five minutes, but the fuzzy feeling came back in the latter half of the five minutes.

By the time we pulled down a long drive-way and parked at the back of a poorly lit cabin, juices were dripping from my vagina. I even felt the mild urge to grind onto the plug, but I resisted both that urge and the urge to cry. I thought that, if I cried, Darla would have won. Tony might get concerned, and then ask what was going on, and then Darla or I might tell him, and he seemed like a loose cannon in the whole scenario. I was going to have to act like I wasn't revolted by what was happening, to keep my secret. But with the sheer embarrassment and pain, mental, physical, and emotional, was it worth it? At the time, it was obviously worth it, since I resisted crying and didn't seem able not to try to.

Darla and Tony both unhooked my ankles, Darla unbuckled me, and Tony lifted me out of the car. He shut the door before setting me down on my feet. The ground was soft, the driveway having been dirt. Darla walked onto a patio that wrapped around the left side of the cabin. Actually, the right, since we were in the back. It wrapped around to the front, where some patio furniture was set up, and I could see water past the small, partially wooded yard. She opened a door on the side, and walked into the cabin. Tony had started towards the steps to the patio, and motioned for me to follow him. I had half a mind to run, but I knew it would accomplish nothing, and would likely work against me in the long run. I tried to take a step, but the yard between the driveway and porch was soft, and it seemed to have recently rained. I managed to keep my balance to the steps anyhow. The heels of my shoes stabbed into the soft ground, but not so far I couldn't compensate.

My very first step after getting on the patio, however, and one heel went into a crevice between the boards of the patio. The heel slid down and stuck, then I fell to that side. That side happened to be the right side. I was fortunate enough not to twist my heel. The heel slid sideways in the groove. However, with my arms behind my back as they were, I tried to catch myself, resulting in choking myself as I hit my head against the side of the cabin. I couldn't stop myself, so I crumpled downward to continue avoiding a twisted heel. I landed flat on my butt, but my momentum continued and pulled me backwards until I was all the way down. I managed to keep my foot mostly facing down. My ankles were both safe, but I had a minor headache and I felt like I had been stabbed in the bowels.

When I was oriented, Tony was already at my side. He asked me if I was alright, and I nodded affirmatively, paying attention to the context of his question. He stood me up slowly, and pulled my foot out of the groove for me. I was wet on my backside, so I knew it had rained. Also, I was getting cold. Tony walked the fifteen or so feet to the side door, reminding me to be careful, and I slowly progressed to the door. I was slower than before, both due to general soreness and the renewed anal pain. That started turning back into the fuzzy numbness by the time I reached the door, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Tony stood just in front of the door. He turned to face me when I stopped at his side. He didn't pause before he grabbed me. He pulled me into position by my waist, then quickly grabbed the base of the butt plug and pressed against it. That forced my crotch over his other hand, and he pressed two fingers quickly and smoothly into my vagina. With that hand in place, he applied pressure inside my vagina with his fingers, and outside with his palm, gripping me and holding me in place by my womanhood.

“I don't care what the dice come up on my first roll” he began “I'm gonna fuck your cunt while you have this plug in and on” And he started to pull the plug out, slowly. He licked my face along the side. When the plug was most of the way out, he jammed it suddenly back in, all the way. That, of course, forced me to jump. When I jumped, he continued, “then I'm going to fuck your whore ass.”

As soon as he finished saying that, he began to tug and push the plug in and out. It never actually got out past the hump, but it was when he pushed it in that it was the worst anyhow. Each thrust, I moaned in pain. With the gag in, it sounded almost like I was lusting for it. I closed my eyes, unsure if I'd stay calm if I kept them open. My hands were still cuffed high on my back, and he held me where I was by my womanhood, still. I moved my feet in meager ways, but I could not escape him. I simply didn't have the leverage. I thought I might get used to it, but I didn't. It hurt every single time.

He stopped after a very long minute or so, then whispered into my ear “Then I'm going to make you suck my dick like you love so much, and see just how full of cum we can get you.”

He let me go slowly, so I didn't fall, then led me into the cabin. I wanted to avoid going inside. I wanted to get away from him. I hoped he'd leave me outside, allowing me to come in on my own time. I did not have that luxury. I was immediately in a short, dark hallway that ended in a laundry section. A bathroom was through a door to the right, and a kitchen to the left. I was lead into the kitchen, which was divided from the living room on the right by a counter, and the dining room was directly ahead. Darla was one the couch in the living room, doing something with cards and dice on the coffee table.

I almost fainted. My heart was beating fast already, and I was already light headed from the extreme embarrassment and forced servitude. On the other side of her on the couch was Jake. He had seen me like that before, and I had thrown myself at him, but I still, for some reason, didn't want him to see me like that. Not then. Time stopped for just a moment, and I spent all of it wishing I would wake up in my own bed. Time resumed when Jake looked at me. I had already stopped walking. Tony and Darla both turned to look at me, but I couldn't take my gaze away from Jake's.

Jake had a stern gaze, and I couldn't read what he intended. Did he decide to join in on the game? Doubtful, given the way he acted the previous weekend. Was he there to try to Darla to release me from captivity? That's what I hoped. My heart fluttered into my throat. I tried not to get my hopes up. I had told him I was getting myself out of it, but that was a lie. He had to be up to something. I hoped to find out what very soon.

Jake wasted no time. He stood up and walked around the couch, to a hallway. He beckoned me with a finger as he walked down the hallway nonchalantly. I almost tripped with my first step, but I paused to regain my composure and slowly walked around the counter and down the hall to join him. The hallway had four doors. Two were against the left wall, one was at the far end, and another was on the right at the end of the hall. The last door is the one he opened and went through.

I realized how uncomfortable I really was as I hoped for Jake to remove the cuffs, the gag, and especially the butt plug. I took one last, pensive step into the room, and Jake shut the door behind me.

“This is your plan?” He whispered as he turned sharply to me. He looked concerned, and I almost collapsed from relief. “I think you might need my help after all.”

He started by removing the gag. He unstrapped it and pulled it slowly away from me. I widened my mouth and allowed it out. I licked my lips and made a strange slobbery noise as I shut my mouth. My jaw was sore, but the relief was amazing. He took a step and was at my side, and then I heard rattling of key in his hand, behind me. I felt him fumble with the restraints, but I finally heard a click and my hands fell from the connection to my neck. He quickly unlocked the cuffs on each wrist, then removed the one from my neck by removing the collar. He tossed the removed items on a chair next to the door.

That was when I realized I hadn't had the wits to look at anything besides Tony. I looked around the room and saw a bed against the wall to the right, in the middle to make a walkway around the sides and foot. The chair was next to a chest, and there were wooden cabinets and drawers around the other two walls, with windows above each. The blinds were a tannish and green, and shut. The whole cabin, including that room, had wooden panel walls. It was very earthy. The bed was even clad in earth tone blankest and comforters.

When Jake was back around me, I embraced him and pulled him close. I didn't have the courage to say anything, yet, and wasn't sure what to say anyhow. I can't explain why, but that hug was more important than getting the butt plug out. It was uncomfortable and slightly painful, but I was embarrassed to let him see me take it out. It was like a testament to my... my what? I don't know but it felt like failure, and I didn't want Jake to think about it being there, for some reason. After a few moments of my drool rubbing onto his shirt, yet oddly no tears, Jake spoke to me softly.

“There's a robe and some pajamas for you on the bed.” I looked past his shoulder and saw that it was true. The pajamas were dark blue and looked silky, and the robe matched. I turned with him, then walked backwards to get the clothes. He didn't watch. He stood facing the corner with the door, though it seemed he was listening to me. I put the long pants on first, so he wouldn't see the butt-plug. That was the same reason I walked to the clothes backwards. He wasn't looking anyway, but why take chances?

Then again, why be concerned if Jake saw the butt-plug. Why did I keep it in? It was still bothersome, after all. It was certainly not comfortable. I realized, as I pulled the shirt on over the corset, I wanted to keep my butt ready for him. I was going to ask him to take my anal virginity. I thought it was to avoid having it taken by someone I disliked, forced from me. I realized, though, I wanted to give it to him as a way of thanking him. I liked him, I wanted to prove it, and I couldn't help but realize I was being slightly opportunistic. If I was his girlfriend, or at least on the way there, which I wanted anyway, he'd be more likely to help me. Maybe that's why I kept the other stuff on, to be sexy for him when I took off the pajamas. I finally got the robe on, and realized Jake had several keys in his hand, not just one for the cuffs.

“Um...” I didn't know what to say to him. Would he realize I was so attracted to him? Would he reject me again? How was I so accepting of throwing myself at him so soon? Again? Did he know what I was up to? Did he realize I kept the butt-plug in, and would he also realize why? Was I fully aware of why?

As my thoughts wandered farther from finishing that sentence, Jake turned to look at me. I felt a jolt go through me, but it was very mild and comforting. It was odd. I knew it wasn't love, but it was surprisingly powerful. Too powerful. I started getting scared of how I felt for him. He was basically a stranger, after all. We'd only been on one date, and he rejected me after it. Why did I assume he wouldn't this time?

“Sit.” Jake said, as he fingered some keys around his keyring. I obeyed... because I wanted to. It was a relief. I sat too quickly, and the jolt from the butt plug getting pressed farther made me flinch. He noticed the movement, but said nothing. He knelt down as I crossed my legs. He took my right foot, the one on top, and unlocked the shoe. He removed it and tossed it uncaringly towards the door, where it landed softly on the carpet. I went along with what he was doing and crossed my legs the other way. He repeated the process with the other shoe. My feet and calves felt so much better that I sighed softly. He inspected my foot, which I hadn't really expected.

“If you want to take the rest of that off, I'll be back in a moment.” Jake said. He stood and turned, kicked the shoes out of the way, and left the room. He shut the door behind him, but I felt unsafe. I felt safe when he was there, though. My emotions were getting stranger and stranger as this ordeal went on. I wondered what Jake was doing. Was he simply giving me a moment of privacy to remove the uncomfortable lingerie, or was he doing something else? What else would he be doing? Was he getting the others? Why? They put so much effort to dress me up, and he was trying to make me comfortable.

Was I really ready to offer myself to him? I realized that's what it was. I wasn't so much obsessed with my anal virginity, it wasn't truly a sacred thing. I only wanted to give it to someone I chose, someone I cared about. More, I wanted to give myself to them. I wanted to choose my lover. And I apparently chose Jake, without realizing it. How would I handle another rejection? How would I ask him to take my anal virginity? Would I ask him softly, after talking with him for a while, maybe after kisses, hugs, and making out? Would I wait for him to return with my butt up in the air, lubed up as it already was? Which way would make him less likely to reject me again? Maybe I should try to combine the lover-esque and slutty ways I imaged at both extremes, but how?

After contemplating that for several minutes I realized I had to decide what to do soon, before Jake returned. The best way to combine slutty and romantic that I could think of in so little time was to take of the pajamas I just put on. I folded them up and put them under the bed, on the side away from the door. Jake wouldn't know I took them off. I got into the bed, under the blankets. The cabin must not have been used often, since I smelled mothballs and dust. Just as I was considering how to lay down, the door opened. I quickly laid down on my side, facing away from the door. I made sure the covers came up to my neck.

“Lisa?” Jake whispered as I heard the door shut.

I turned over, keeping the blanket at my neck, and looked at Jake. He was still in his jeans and red, button up shirt. As I looked at him, I felt something in my bowels, but also in my womanhood. I was sincerely sexually excited by Jake, even though I was so very worried and tormented just ten minutes earlier. Then again, my body was traitorous and could be forced into an orgasm. But, still, I knew that was different. I actually wanted to be turned on by him. I feared he could read my thoughts, but knew he couldn't. I realized he was waiting for an answer, so I replied “Jake?”

Jake sat on the side of the bed at an angle, half facing me. “I'm not going to tell you how I'm doing it, but I'm going to help you out of this. I have until breakfast in here with you. I'm not at all comfortable playing along with this, but I have to let Darla...” Jake harrumphed.

I slid closer to Jake, and reach my left arm to him, the one under me. The blanket stayed over my shoulder, but it was still obvious my arm had no sleeve on it. I rubbed his forearm softly and whispered “I... I appreciate you. Your help. I mean... I don't know... I've learned some things these past few weeks, and I met someone I care about. Even though...”

I hadn't expected to poor my guts out like that, so I shut up for fear of spilling too much. I may, in fact, have already spilled too much. What was it I was trying to say, anyhow? Was I trying to comfort him, when the situation seemed to dictate the opposite? I didn't know what to do, so I waited for him to make the next move.

“Lisa, you're a wonderful woman, but...” Jake started. He looked straight into my eyes “but I'm... I'm partly responsible for this. I told Lisa about the sorts of women I'm attracted to, since we work together. It gave her insights into my lifestyle, and she got ideas. Wrong ideas. She... doesn't understand how this sort of stuff is supposed to work...”

It seemed he didn't know what to say, but he was putting more effort into it than I had. I interrupted him with “I want you, Sir.”

I gasped on the inside. I knew I wanted to have Jake, I knew I wanted to give him my anal virginity, and I knew I was starting to care for him, but I threw myself at him clumsily again. I could blame the nervousness, but the fact is it happened. For that next moment, my heart fluttered and stopped.

“What?” Jake asked, with a sincere sort of curiosity that made me not feel so bad about my being so blunt. “What did you say?”

I said it, so I owed him the honest answer. “I said that I want you... Sir.” I gulped and couldn't look at him. I felt like falling into the bed and disappearing. He was going to refuse me, again. Each second inched by.

“You... you know what being with me might entail already? Did Darla tell you?” Jake asked.

He didn't outright refuse me! I knew it didn't mean he wouldn't, but he hadn't yet. He was curious, interested! I took another chance. I sat up, leaning on my left elbow. The blanket fell from my neck to my abdomen. My breasts, and the corset propping them up slightly, were in his clear view. I put my right hand on the back of his neck, massaging it lightly. I looked into his eyes, though it was actually hard to get myself to do, and said “I... I think I have a good idea. I looked online. I like you. I like this... sort of. I like choosing it, not being forced. I want...”

Jake cut me off, this time “We can't rush into this, as much as I'd like to” His eyes shortly glanced at my breasts, and I almost giggled. He wasn't going to deny me! Not outright, anyway. He was going to give me a shot! “I need to know what you like, what you dislike... we need to be sure we're compatible. I... I need to know we're compatible more than sexually. I... I can't rush...”

Again, I interrupted him. I didn't want to lose him. I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him, and I didn't have the time to go on several dates and talk each night to figure out if it would work out. I wanted him then, and I wanted him before Darla and Tony forced me into things I would hate. “I don't have that much time, Jake! Sir. I... I want to give you... I want you to... to have...” I couldn't finish the sentence. I tingled in my womanhood, as well as in my anus a bit. It was surprising, and limited how forceful I could be. I really was submissive. I wanted him to take me. I wanted him to tell me to give him my ass.

“To have what, Lisa?” Jake asked.

“My...” Saying it was really hard. I had to show him. I had to get him to take it. I couldn't just ask. I hadn't imagined this being so awkward, though I should have known it would be. Actions speak louder than words. I kissed him. As soon as I did, I tried to prepare myself for rejection. I hoped he wouldn't, but it seemed he might, still. Everything was so unsure. I had to seize him, his desires. Was I using him? Gah, I pushed that thought out of my head! He kissed back. He kissed back!

I moved in closer to him as the kiss became hot. We made out, he lowered himself to me as I lifted myself to him. Our arms were around one another, and I almost cried out in relief. I realized the awkwardness wasn't quite over, but I did know it'd get that far. We rolled around on the bed, and I helped him remove his shirt. I could feel the bulge in his pants against my pubic area, where there would be hair if I didn't shave. As I unzipped his pants, I could feel that they were moist. I almost got embarrassed about it, but then realized worse was to come, and I ignored it. I got down off the bed and pulled his pants down.

As I sat up on my knees, I saw his manhood. It was glorious, so far as I was concerned. He trimmed himself for me. He was never going to refuse me! I went down on him immediately. I wanted to give him pleasure, and tried everything in my book. I cupped and played with his balls as I jerked his manhood a bit with my other hand. At the same time, I puckered and closed my lips around the head. I sucked lightly and circled my tongue around. I moved ever so slightly up and down. I was about to try deep-throating when he lifted me up by my arms. He turned as he lifted me, and he was suddenly on top of me, on the bed.

He was going to have sex with me. He was going to put it in my vagina! As pleasant a thought that was at the time, I feared I'd forget to ask him for anal in the pleasure of it. Further, what if he came from vaginal, before I got up the courage to ask for anal? I reached down with both arms. With my right arm, I held his penis. I jerked him a little, to buy time. With my left hand, I started to pull the plug out of my anus. It was in there nice and tight. Surprisingly, the stimulation felt good. It hurt slightly, but in a strangely good way.

I slid the butt-plug out slowly. As I did, I looked into Jake's eyes and whispered “Please... f... fuck my ass, Sir?” It was the most awkward question I ever had to ask, but looking into Jake's eyes helped me realize I wanted to ask it. I wanted him to have my anal virginity and, through it, me.

“What?” He screwed up his face as though I asked him something truly unorthodox.

I had to repeat it. I looked into his face and pulled the courage out of God knows where “Please... Sir, please fuck my asshole, Sir? Is that okay, Sir? … Am I allowed to... to make requests?”

“Of course you are.” He answered softly, caressing my face “But why do you want to go right to anal?”

“I... I... can we talk about it later, please, Sir? I just... I want to give you my ass, Sir.”

“Alright, Lisa. Have you... have you ever had it, before?” he asked as he kissed my deeply.

“No, Sir. That's why... That's why I want you to have it, Sir”

“I'll go slowly, then.” Jake said. He still caressed my face with one hand, and he gave me a soft kiss. I was already aiming him, so he moved slowly forward.

When I felt his head against my ass, I said “You can have it however you want it, Sir.”

I tossed the butt-plug to the side, off the bed, and put that arm around Jake. He pressed softly, kissing me lightly as his head pressed harder against my ass. He stopped pushing, simply keeping himself pressed against me. I realized I was tensing up a bit. I forced myself to relax, and the tip of his penis slid softly past my asphincter. The pressure felt a lot like the butt plugs had, except smoother. He pressed in gently but firmly. I wasn't sure how much of him was in me, but when I felt that painful pressure deep in me, he slowed and stopped. He moved out a bit, then back a bit. He moved only a bit, and slowly, back and forth. He whispered “Relax.”

When he said that, I realized that, yeah, I was still pretty tense. He continued his slow motions, but I could feel him get just a tad deeper every few thrusts. The painful pressure turned into a fuzzy pressure the further he went. It still hurt, but it was a different kind of pain. That's not accurate, either. It was just... different. It felt like the butt plugs, but not as wide and longer. After a few minutes, I felt him resting against my butt. He was all the way in my rear. I was hardly looking moving or even looking at him, because I didn't want to tense up and make the good sensation turn to only pain.

Jake began moving slowly again, but this time he moved farther. He kissed me as he went, and I kissed back. I discovered I could even stay relaxed for him while putting my arms around him. All those years I imagined anal being painful, uncomfortable, and most of all not fun. There I was, though, having the time of my life getting fucked in the ass. I couldn't honestly say it was better than, or even as good, as vaginal, but it was surprisingly good nonetheless.

He gave me time to get used to it before he sped up and moved even more of himself out and in. After a few more minutes, he was moving so fast and far that I thought he was using his entire length. I may have been right. The pain intensified, but the fuzzy good feeling also intensified. It was about the strangest mix of sensations I had ever felt. I was torn between wanting it to keep going and wanting it to end. The good feeling was equal to the pain, but I also wanted to please Jake. It was also a kind of challenge for myself, so wanting it won out. I got more and more excited.

Soon, what seemed almost too soon, Jake hurried out of me and scrambled atop me. He straddled me suddenly. I didn't know how to react, so I didn't. He was stroking himself, and looking at me intently. He was about to cum. “Open your mouth, slut!”

His words took me by surprise, almost reminding me of Darla, but his voice... well, his voice was suited to it much more. I almost liked it. At any rate, I hesitated only a moment before doing as he said. As I considered how I was going to catch his cum in my mouth, he took care of the problem for me. He put his head right in my mouth. I almost pulled away. His penis was just in my ass, after all. It was gross. After remembering when Darla made me like her anus, I almost turned away. However, I remember she had cleaned herself and it wasn't actually nasty. I had cleaned myself, too. Probably the worst thing would be the lube.

As I considered exactly what was happening and how to react, He started cumming. It caught me off guard and I almost choked, but I just let it all pile up in the back of my mouth. The bitterness was there like usual, but it didn't seem so bad. After he leaned back, I swallowed it. I never made a habit of swallowing before, but it was the easiest way to get rid of it and most guys like it. He slumped to the side, laying down next to me. I still wasn't sure how to react. I wanted... a hug, or a kiss, or something. Was he just going to go to the bathroom or for a walk, like some guys do after sex? I worried for, well, a few seconds, but it seemed like a long time.

He rolled closer and put an arm around. He pulled me in closer to him. He was cuddling! I mean, I gave myself to him in a way I had given myself to no man. I was, in effect, more intimate with him that I was with any other man due to that. I had thrown myself at his mercy. And he returned with a bounty of mercy! I was never so glad to have been with a cuddler. He even explained it to me in whispers. “How can I expect you to always obey and cherish me if I can't look out for your needs?”

“Thank you, Sir.”, I whispered back. All the emotional turmoil was gone in that moment. I was in his embrace and comfortable with my situation for right then. I couldn't claim I was in love, but I knew he cared. It was comfortable. What would happen later in the day I'd find out then. That moment allowed my worries to rest for a bit.

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