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Collected by Djian

The VIP (NC, rough)

Gateway
The VIP
It's hard to get to the top when you're a woman; I know. Nine years ago I had
been hired as a mid level manager at the company and no one took me seriously. A
college kid, a woman no less, and a good looking one, with long, braided blond
hair, a good body and a pretty face wasn't someone to be taken seriously. Within
a year they were all taking me seriously--I was the hardest, meanest, toughest,
and smartest goddamn person there, and I rose quickly through the ranks,
breaking balls wherever they needed breaking, and sometimes just for the fun of
it. Nine years later, at the young age of thirty one, still looking so good many
of the men still mistake my beauty for weakness or stupidity, I became one of
ten vice presidents at the company, and I began angling for the executive vp job
in the only way I knew how--full steam ahead. And why the hell shouldn't I
have--I was three times smarter, three times better, than anyone else working
there. My story actually starts just when I had scooped one more shovelful of
dirt out of the ground in which I was going to bury the executive vp.

He knew what I was doing, but he was too impotent to do anything about it--I
had him and his seven vp lackeys by the balls, and I was squeezing. It was a good
day, and when late that night I opened the door to my 500 series Mercedes,
parked in my reserved space, I was feeling really, really good, which is probably
why I didn't notice the two men. I saw a flash of a gun as one of them
shoved me into the car, pushing me over to the passenger seat as his friend slid into
the back seat. Two guns were pointed at me, and a harsh "Shut your mouth bitch.
One sound and we kill you and dump your body" froze my tongue. I'm tough, not
stupid, and I was scared, very scared. Neither of the men were wearing masks, so I
could identify them if they let me go--I hoped they would let me go. My
captures sat silently, one driving while the other held a gun against my side, my
mind working furiously on all the angles. I didn't doubt that they would
shoot me, which left me almost no options. When I tried to speak I was warned
and then hit, hard, across the face. After that I sat silently, my fear building as I
watched the highway roll by until we turned off into a less populated area. I
was infinitely relieved when he pulled onto a residential road catering to the
very, very well to do. My relief grew as they spoke quickly at the gate to a
grand house and pulled through. I wasn't going to die, of that much I was sure,
but I had no idea what was going on. We pulled into the long driveway and
circled behind the house where the garage was. The garage was open and lights
were on inside, illuminating, I counted, nine figures, one of which broke off
and walked toward my car. I couldn't make out who any of them were,
though. I didn't have to wait long for that information as the man with the gun
on me got out of the car and motioned me out. "Todd!" I yelled as I saw him, and
he grinned at me while peeling off hundreds from the roll he was holding.
"Son of a bitch," I muttered as he paid the abductor who had driven me, Todd
did, the executive vp of my company. The man with the gun on me was still
behind me when the other people started coming out of the garage: there were all of
the other vp's of the company--Greg, Mike, David, Anthony, Craig, Don, Andy,
John, James--and the last man I didn't recognize until he gave me a big ugly
grin--he was Tom, a janitor I had had fired when he had tried to grab my ass.
Stunned immobility gave way to rage as Tom and Mike, the two largest of the
men, approached and grabbed my arms. "What!" I yelled, "What the hell do
you think you're doing? What the hell do you think you're doing?" I struggled as
they held my arms, giving them everything I had, and I was a big woman, standing
five foot eight in my bare feet. On the heels I was wearing I topped all but
Tom. "Hey, hey!" I turned as my abductors got into my car and pulled away. My
fear had gone completely at the familiar faces--these were the bastards I knew, the
bastards I had dealt with for the past couple of years; what the hell did they
think they were doing. I stilled as I realized I wasn't going to get loose and as
Todd approached me, a dangerous look in his eyes. I looked right into those
eyes and said, "Tell these bastards to let me go, and then explain what the
hell you are doing." I saw his lips twitch as I spoke, anger clouding his face, and
then he hit me in the stomach, my breath whooshing out of me as I tried to
double over in pain. Oh my god he was crazy, I thought as he grabbed my by my hair
and backhanded me, by head arcing back from the blow as by body jerked in
the grip of the two men. I tasted blood in my mouth and I saw red. I glared
hatred at him as I struggled to regain my balance. "You pathetic piece of dung," I
hissed, "having to have others hold me down. You worm, you mother-loving
sheep-fucking bastard." I glared at him and was infuriated when he just smiled, and
I saw the other vp's come up, and one at a time they struck me, either hitting
me hard in the stomach or slapping he hard across the face--each one was allowed
one blow, and gave it his best. I thought I was going to vomit as Greg finished
it up with one more blow to my gut, and the men holding my arms let me go to curl
up on the ground in agony. Hatred still burned in me, but fear also, fear of
what was going to happen, fear and dread. I looked up through slitted eyes as
Todd stood over me. "You, you stupid bitch," he said, hate dripping from his
every word, "think you're such hot shit, think you're better than us." I saw him
smile, "Well, we're here to show you what you're good for, cunt." He turned
and walked to the garage while Mike and Tom half dragged, half carried me into
the garage.

As they pulled my arms above my head, tying my wrists in rope to the
rafters overhead, my arms spread to either side of my body, I had a chance to
look around at the garage. It was well laid out, with a drain in the center
of the concrete floor, two large couches placed in front of the workbench, a
large number of tools hanging here and there along the walls, ropes,
pulleys, and leather restraints of some sort hanging from the rafters, a few low
benches, three sawhorses, and a strange looking device supported on four
thickwooden legs supporting two boards, long side horizontal, meeting at a well
met V at the tip. It wasn't until I saw the whips and chains and dildos and a
videocam laid out on a workbench to the side that I realized fully what they were
planning on doing to me. My eyes widened as I stood there bound, my arms stretched
high over my head. "You don't dare," I said, looking straight at Todd, who had
lit up a cigar and was blowing smoke contentedly as he watched me watch him.

"You don't dare touch me, you son of a bitch. I'll have you all thrown in jail
for this, you bastards!" I looked around at them all, glaring, and saw no
sympathy, no remorse. Todd finally spoke, addressed the other vp's and Tom, "Remove
that business suit from her--it's obscene on a woman." I began cursing then
as eight men stood around me, scissors and knives cutting at my $1200 suit,
hands groping my breasts and legs and between my legs, making me squirm as they
stripped me bare, leaving my only my heals to stand on, or I would be hanging by
my wrists, which were already beginning to chaff at the rope. I was shaking by
the time they finished, shaking with rage and fear as they stepped back after
violating me with their hands, mauling my breasts and pinching my thighs and
pushing their filthy fingers against my pussy. Todd approached me, my breasts
heaving with reaction to my situation, and looked into my eyes. He reached out and
grabbed my left breast, his cigar in his left hand, and began squeezing it,
making me wince in pain. "Nice," he said, "very nice," as he squeezed the other one
like a piece of bread. "Don't--touch--me," I spat at him, but he merely smiled and
slid his hand across my flat stomach, his touch making my skin crawl. "You," he
said, looking into my eyes again as he gripped my left breast painfully in
his hand, circling it and making the nipple stand out, "you, you no good cunt,
are going to beg me to fuck you." I was stunned. "Beg for it slut," he said
again, squeezing my breast harder. I spat in his face, the satisfaction of my
spit on his face washed away as he brought the tip of the cigar against my
defenseless breast. "AAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGG!" I screamed as pain lanced through my
nipple, increasing exponentially each second he held it there. I vaguely heard
cheers and cries in the background as I twisted madly in my bondage, my feet
twisting on the heels as I tried to twist my torso away from the incredible
pain. "Now, cunt," Todd spoke as I stood there panting, the cigar again in his
mouth as he puffed it, my eyes locked on the glowing tip, "beg me to fuck you."

Sweat stood out on my body as I said it, "Fuck you, you son of
aaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG."
More pain exploded on my other nipple, my scream torn from my throat.
It went on and on and I could _smell_ my burning flesh until he finally stopped.
"Again, beg me to fuck you, whore." I spat in his face again, my long blonde
hair fraying from around its braid from the violence of my thrashing head
to fall across my face. I would never, never let this pig break me like that.

He got mean then, and had Anthony hold my head back while he forced a thick
penis gag into my mouth before strapping it closed around the back of my head. I
could barely make a sound, but he loved the way my eyes looked when he
showed me the cane. Anthony and Craig also smiled at my eyes as they showed me their
whips, one short rubber, the other short, knotted leather. Then the agony
started. My muffled screams must have been an attractant, because they all came
close, began stripping off their clothing as I twisted and writhed in the air,
hanging from my wrists half the time and they struck my ass my thighs my tits my
back and my stomach, driving the cane and lashes hard against my body, making me
buck and dance in pain, blood oozing from small cuts across my body. My world
was a haze of pain and male shadows and the sound of whips and my own garbled
screams.

Finally it ended and I hung in my bonds, limp, my wrists starting to
ooze blood at they took more and more of the weight of my body. They pulled the
gag out, commenting and laughing at my beaten body, still burning with pain,
and the low moans escaping my lips. "Not so high and mighty now," I heard, and
"she's gonna love it," "if she moves like that when she fucks," "bitch deserves
it," "deserves more than that," "hurt her more." I didn't even have the
strength to raise my head, but someone raised it for me, pulling my hair painfully
until I was looking right into the eyes of Todd, again smoking his cigar. "Beg
me you cunt," he said softly. I answered him just as softly, "Fuck you." I
was surprised they didn't gag me again. I saw John and James return with
pliers. I shuddered at what was next, but I was never going to beg these
bastards. Another scream was wrenched from my tortured body as they each grabbed a
nipple with their pliers, pain arcing through my body on my poor tortured nipples
as the began pulling my breasts away from my body until they were distorted
into obscene cones of flesh. I arched by body to relieve the strain until I
was hanging by my wrists, my mind only on the agony in my breasts and
body, my whole from thrust forward, my toes barely touching the hard concrete ground,
my heels lost long ago. "Beg me slut," I heard vaguely through my moans of
pain, my head thrashing back and forth in agony. I shook my head and mouthed no,
never, and was rewarded by the hot touch of the cigar on the undersides of my
distended breasts, tearing scream after tortured scream from my throat, my body
quaking and shivering in its pain, my skin slick with its own sweat. He burned
and he burned and I screamed and screamed and then it stopped and the pliers
let go of my tormented breasts and he pulled my head up to look at him. I let
defiance flash in my eyes, what little defiance I had left, as I croaked
"never," and he just smiled. They were ready for this as two men gripped my legs from
behind and pulled them apart, my body supported between them and my tortured
wrists. I struggled feebly as I felt the pliers grip my labia, and gasped and
moaned in pain as they pulled them wide. I felt a finger on my clit, massaging
it, and flinched, feeling so degraded, so used, so worthless. I tried to fight
off the feeling, but this was more than torture--this was the ultimate
violation. I could feel my clit harden under the rough finger, and then, looking
down and opening my eyes, I saw my cunt lips gripped between pliers spread
obscenely wide while Todd was about to put on the finishing touch. "Noooooo!!!" I
screamed before the cigar touched my hardened clit, the energy of stark terror
making me twist and jerk in my bonds.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGG...NOOOOOO...PLEASE...AAAAAHHHHHHHGG G," I was
howling as the hot tip touched my tender but, sending the most excruciating agony
through my body as I struggled futiley in my bonds, my struggles only adding to
my pain as I tugged at my spread labia and wrists. I didn't think then, just said
between howls of agony, "FUCK ME....AAAHHHHG...PLEASE...AHHHHHGGGGG...FUCK
ME..." and on and on like that as he moved the tip around on my clit, my throat raw
now from screaming. He heard me and stopped, my body throbbing in agony. I felt
he had ruined my sex and my breasts, and I sobbed as I blubbered, "fuck me,
please fuck me, I'm begging you to stuff your cock in my cunt, please, please do
it." I couldn't take any more, I just couldn't. My only thought was to make
him happy and to make him stop torturing me, the agonizing pain in my groin a
remembrance of a pain that was a thousand times worse just seconds ago. "That's
better," he said, holding my head up by the chin. He looked around at his vp's and
his ex-janitor and held out his fist, thumb out and to the side. "What do
you think? You think I should fuck her, or do you think we should beat her some
more?" Oh my god I thought, praying, praying that they would let him fuck me. I
even begged, "Let him fuck me, let him slam his cock into my cunt. Please,
please," I begged on and on, hating myself, despising myself to the core of my
being as tears of humiliation and shame ran down my face. Shouts of "fuck her"
and "beat her" rang throughout the garage, and I didn't know which had won until
Todd turned back toward me, his thumb still turned sideways. "Looks like we
have a tie, cunt, which means it's my decision." I licked my dry lips, gazing
at him from behind a halo of blonde hair and throbbing pain, "I'm a good
fuck, you'll like me, please," I began to whine, "please fuck my pussy, please."
"Shut up," he snapped, and I shut up, fear, fear of pain, overshadowing even my
anger at what they had done to me. He dropped his pants and I almost sighed in
relief--he was going to fuck me, and then I shuddered and realized what I was
wishing for, before pushing the thought out of my mind. It meant no more pain, no
more burning or slashing agony. "Shut up" he said again as he grabbed my
legs and pulled them around his waist, my weight on his hips and my wrists. I
grimaced and moaned in pain as he shoved his cock into my dry cunt, the agony
of the burning reawakening in my flesh at the tortured penetration. "Okay,
cunt, fuck me, and fuck me good.. If I don't come in ten minutes I'm going to
beat you again." Confusion and fear rose in my breast when I realized what he
wanted--he was going to make me fuck him like this, with his hands resting on top
of my thighs, which were already trembling with having to hold myself
against him. The threat though, the threat of another beating drove me to flex my
thighs, thighs strong and lean from years of fanatical exercise, sliding my cunt in a
circle around his groin, wishing, wishing for some of the natural lube from
my pussy to make it easier, less painful. For long minutes I fucked him, my thighs
quivering with agony, only my desire to escape another beating keeping me going,
my breath coming in short gasps as each slight movement sent agony lacing up my
tortured cunt and across my jiggling breasts, but I persevered, sliding his
cock in and out and around in my cunt, praying that he would come. Finally my legs
gave out and I collapses onto my feet, his cock slipping quickly and painfully
from my box. I saw him smile, and fear gripped my heart. "Please, don't, don't
beat me. Let me try again, please." "Not so hot now, is she," I heard Anthony
say, and murmured agreement, laced with "cunt", "whore," and "slut." I was
pulling at the ropes on my wrists now, not caring about the blood that oozed from
around the binding, begging, pleading with him to spare me the beating, but two
of them pulled my legs apart again and three grabbed lashed, Todd standing
right in front of me and the other two to either side. The agony blackened my
eyesight as he brought the whip up against my burned sex, the pain almost too
much, dulling the agony exploding in my breasts as the men on either side of me
brought their whips down against my tit meat. Again and again the lashes fell,
clouds of darkness passing over my vision as I howled with each blow, torturous
animalistic screams of pain and despair as the whips cut into my sensitive flesh
for what seemed forever. Finally it stopped, and the sharp explosions
of pain became merely an unbearable burning agony through my cunt and breasts.

I felt like I could barely breath as Todd placed my knees over his shoulders
and drove his cock deep into my aching cunt, tearing another scream from my raw
throat as he began fucking me violently, the rape as painful as the whipping as
his pelvis slammed into my beaten, bruised, burned flesh. I screamed and thrashed
and bucked in agony as he fucked me, driving him quickly to orgasm, his
come a relief in my tortured box. They unbound me then, letting me fall to
the ground and curl up in a fetal position. I felt a toe tap my beaten ass and
Craig's voice. "Okay cunt. Get on your hands and knees and give me a nice blow
job if you don't want more of the whip." Every muscle protesting, every nerve
screaming in pain, I moved onto my hands and knees, feeling almost blindly for
his legs, my fear of what they could do to me overriding everything but my need
to keep them happy. The concrete was hard beneath my hands and knees as I
swayed there, my tits throbbing and my groin blazing in pain, barely manageable, my
head lifting to lust and hate-filled gazes, until I locked on Craig,
sitting on a couch a distance away, naked, his cock jutting upward obscenely. I
focused on that cock as I crawled painfully across the ground, my knees being
bruised by the hard concrete, until I would reach up with my hands and encircle
it, until I could bring my lips over and around it, his cock filling my mouth. My
only thought was to make him come, to make him come so he wouldn't beat me,
so I used all my skill with my mouth on his cock, working it like a whore, the
words of the other vp's heaping humiliation upon me. "Look at her go", "what a
cocksucker", "always knew she was a whore", "bet she deep throats",
"hot piece of ass", "fuck her next" "get it on camera...don't miss anything." He
was holding out, I could tell, even as I squeezed his balls with my hands
and made little moaning sounds in my throat. I began to panic, not wanting it
to take so long he would grow angry, and swallowed him, taking his cock deep into
my throat and bobbing up and down on it rapidly until I felt him tense. I pulled
his cock back into my mouth as he spurted the first burst of come, my throat
swallowing quickly as he yanked my mouth from his cock, another spurt of come
striking my cheek, a third shooting into my mouth and against my lips, until it
throbbed, oozing come from its slit, come which I quickly sucked up, cleaning my
face with my fingers before sucking the come off them, cleaning his cock with my
lips and tongue. When I was done I looked up expectantly at Craig, and he
grinned a big shit-eating grin and said those words I so wanted to hear, "Good job
slut. No beating for that performance." I sighed in relief only to be grabbed
by the hair and pulled to my feet. I stood, my hands on Tom's wrist as he held me
before him, his face a mask of lust and hatred. "Tell me how much you want my
cock, slut," he growled, "and when I fuck you, you're going to love it or
else." With those words he threw me to the ground, adding more bruised to my
collection. He turned me onto my back and positioned himself between my legs, his
snarling face just above mine. I began begging him, "Please fuck my cunt, fill me
full of your meat. I need it so bad, so bad. I need your cock." I was running my
hands up and down his body while I encircled my legs around his waist, humping my
cunt up against him. When he fucked into me I turned my gasp of pain into one
of pleasure, still spewing "Oh god it feels so good...Aaaaahhhhg...so good...oh oh
oh...yes...fuck me....ah ah oh aaahhhg...harder...harder...uuhhgg
uhg...your so good...oh uhg...fill me up," and on and on as he drove into my
battered cunt like a piledriver, pain making me gasp and cry out, pain which I made
to simulate pleasure as I writhed beneath him, clenching my thighs tight
around his waist as he fucked me hard, coming with a gasp, cueing me to cry out
as I bucked in pain against him, "oohhh yes! yes! I'm coming! Aaaaahhhhhh!" When
he pulled out he looked down at my prone body and spat on me, and a small part
of me cringed inside, while the rest was thankful that I wasn't going to get
beaten again. Greg was the next to climb between my legs, and he was easier,
my cunt more lubed now, my body still burning in pain, but lessened pain, from
the torture before. I went through the act again, even pulling his mouth
to mine and kissing him deeply to make him come faster, moaning and crying out all
the time.

They were all enjoying themselves watch me make a whore out of myself,
and as much as I hated it I was happy. The more happy they were the less
chance they would beat me. Mike followed Greg in my cunt and laughed when he
finished, proclaiming it a bit sloppy for further use. David made me suck him
while he was standing up, and demanded that I deep throat him, his hands gripping
the back of my head as he fucked my face brutally before spraying his come over my
face and making me lick it clean. I knew what was coming when Anthony told me
to get on my knees, bend over, and grab my ankles from between my legs. I had
never been assfucked before, but he was going to do it now, him and maybe the
five others who were laughing and joking with the ones who had already taken me.
He wanted me to beg for it up the ass too, so I did, turning my head and
pleading, "I want you, so bad, so bad, in the ass, fuck me in the ass, slide your hard
tool into my hot ass. Fill me up, hurt me, fuck me hard." I gasped as he slipped
it into my cunt, wet with other men's come, some of which had slid down my
thighs to dry there, a reminder of my rape. I felt totally dominated in this
position, totally helpless as he stroked my cunt a few times with his cock, his hands
gripping my hips. He pulled out and I sucked in my breath as he pressed it against
my ass, harder, harder.... "AAAAAaaahhhhhhggggg!" I howled as he broke
through, the pain equal to anything I had felt before, my hands gripping my ankles hard
as I held on, my whole body trembling as I screamed, "oh god yes fuck yes so
good!", my mind rebelling at the pain as his cock forced its way deep into my
bowel, making me feel like it was tearing me apart, tearing scream after shuddering
scream from my throat even while I begged for more, fear of the whip and of
the rope paralyzing my mind with fear. Each thrust was agony, even his fingers
on my hips and ass filled me with pain, but I kept gasping out "fuck me, fuck my
ass, hurt me harder, faster," wishing he would come, trying to make him come,
even as I trembled and squealed as he pounded my ass slowly, my ass so tight he
could not go any faster. When he finally came Craig replaced him, and the pain
was less, although I felt the warmth of blood fill my ass, and wondered remotely
how badly I was torn up. Don followed Craig in my ass, fucking it until it was
obscenely distended. Nine down, I thought vaguely, knowing that they would want
more than one chance at my body, but fearing their first time the most. "Get
up." It was John. He motioned me to lay across a narrow leather swing on my
stomach, so I did, my ass protruding far up in the air as I hung here three feet
above the ground. I begged as he and Andy grabbed my limbs and tied me
horizontal in the air, spread-eagled, "please don't beat me, don't hurt me. Please fuck
me, fuck my ass, fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt. I'll make it good for you, I
will. I'll make you come," but they weren't interested in just fucking me, they
wanted to make me hurt. I was stretched out like a sacrificial offering, my
tortured breasts hanging heavily beneath me, still throbbing from the beating,
while they rummaged around with the tools. I had stopped begging, realizing that
it wasn't going to do any good, a numb acceptance creeping over me, scaring me
more than even my begging had. Each returned with a huge monkey wrench, each
almost two feet long, and fastened them to each breast until I was howling and
screaming as they compressed my tit-meat to half its size, leaving them hanging
from my tortured breasts, their weight tearing them from my chest, each
movement sending them swinging agonizingly. Each twitch of my body sent agony coursing
through my tits, a howl of pure torture escaping my lips as John plunged his cock
into my cunt, a howl which was quickly muffled when Andy stuffed his cock deep
into my mouth and down my throat. They began fucking me then, from both ends,
using me like a hanging piece of meat, my throat spasming around Jame's cock as
each thrust sent the monkey wrenches swaying under my bound body. When the
whips started to fall against my ass I began bucking and writhing and
twisting, every nerve afire with pain, every motion adding to my agony as my cunt and
throat spasmed in pain around the invading cocks. I don't know how long they
fucked me, but it couldn't have been long before they spewed their come into my
helpless body. The wrenches were removed from my tits as I hung there, and then
a hose was brought over and turned on, and they hosed me off. I really didn't
care, but when they stuffed it up my cunt I squirmed at the pressure, and
squirmed even more when the repeated it in my ass. Finally they decided I was clean,
my long blonde hair hanging wet in a veil about my face. I was thankful for
that, a slight hope in my heart that now they would let me go. "Hey Todd," I
heard David say, "Anthony here says he can make the slut come." I shuddered at the
words. Was he crazy? My whole body was aching with pain, my breasts throbbed
like they were going to explode, my cunt had been burned and whipped and fucked
dry brutally and now must be swollen, gross, and red. My ass ached from
its fucking and my buttocks burned from the lashes it had taken. Small scabs laced
my body where the whips had broken the skin. I had just been raped by nine men
I hated, humiliated in front of them. How could anyone think they could make me
come?

They let me hang there for fifteen minutes while they argued, letting
my mind clear. I had begged them to fuck me, and I knew I would do it again.
Anything was worth escaping the beating and pain they had inflicted upon me. My
pride was dented, but not gone, and my self-worth hung on grimly to my pride.
They had had to tie me up and beat me to control me, but they couldn't keep me
bound forever, although I feared they could. I heard them finally come to a
decision--Anthony would get forty minutes to make me come with his eighty thousand
dollars against ten thousand of each of theirs, Todd covering Tom's stake. I noticed
they were all in a great mood--probably from raping me, I thought
contemptuously, but skittered from that thought so that it didn't show through--as they
lifted me from my bonds and laid me on a short, trapezoidal table, narrow at the
shoulders and widening out at my hips. My head hung over the end as they pulled
my arms straight down to bind them to the legs of the table. My knees were
bent beneath my legs and my ankles were tied to the top of the legs of the table,
my ass resting on the edge. The position left my legs spread wide and my
swollen, burned cunt exposed lewdly. The position was not that uncomfortable,
and after what I had been through I began to relax. I felt someone sit down
between my spread legs and figured it was Anthony, that putz. I took a deep
breath as I felt his warm breath on my thighs, pain lancing through me as the skin
on my chest stretched with my ribcage. I was fucked up, but from what I had
seen when they had taken me down it wasn't as bad as it felt. I saw some of the
men upside down going into the house, leaving the door open. I relaxed even more
as the warm air from Anthony's body blew against my cunt--he didn't try to
touch me or kiss my cunt--he just sat there, breathing warm air across my swollen
lips. For the first time that evening I was given a chance to relax, and I took
it. I had closed my eyes when I heard the noises of a tv and then laughter. The
sound was turned up and the blood went cold in my veins. I heard my voice,
begging to be fucked, begging to have their cock in my cunt--they had taped it. I
shivered as I realized what they had--me acting like the biggest slut in the world
surrounded by nine men. They could ruin me, I thought as I heard my
simulated cries of passion. Despair flooded me even as Anthony's lips brushed my
nether lips and I twitched away from him a touch. Then my mind went into
overdrive and I started thinking about how to get ahold of that tape and escape.

With that tape and what a doctor would see on my body I would be able to hang
them all. Hope rose in my breast but I shoved it down, maintaining my calm as
the company men laughed at watching my debasement replayed on tape. "Shut that
door," I heard Anthony say to David, who was still in the garage with Mike.
Thankfully the noise of my repeated rapes was muted, and I closed my eyes again
to relax and regain my strength. I didn't know what they had planned for me
next, but I hoped to god it wouldn't be as painful as before, and I would do
anything, anything to prevent that. I could still feel Anthony's lips hovering
near my swollen, abused labia, his breath moistening my flesh. I was cold to
him, remembering how he had raped my ass, making me beg him to slam his
cock deep into my virgin bowels. I was happy only for the lack of painful
attention, happy for the chance to relax. I began to slowly drift off as I became more
and more relaxed. Suddenly my eyes snapped open as I felt his lips press
against my labia, his tongue softly pressing between them toward my tortured
clit. I squirmed and whimpered as I realized I was wet--how long had I been
asleep? What Anthony was doing was worse than the beating, worse than the fucking,
worse even than making me beg for it--he was turning me on, turning on my aching,
beaten raped body. I tried to deny it, tried to wish it out of existence, but
I couldn't, it was there. My cunt lips ached as blood swelled them even
more, making them throb. My clit felt like it was going to explode with a
strange mixture of pain and pleasure. I choked down a moan, not knowing how he
was doing it, how he was bringing pleasure to a place where the slightest touch
would have brought a shriek of agony from my throat just minutes before. Somehow,
he was, making stomach flutter in pleasure as he rode me higher on the edge
between pain and pleasure with his tongue and his lips and his hot breath. "Ten
minutes left," I heard David say, and then I knew I had been under for almost
thirty minutes, thirty minutes I had left my body defenseless before this
onslaught of pleasure. I didn't know if I could hold out ten more minutes, ten more
minutes of his tongue sending chills just short of agony coursing through my
body. I had begun to sweat again, and I felt my cunt drooling cunt juice into my
ass-crack and I shuddered again, my mouth hanging open. I knew Anthony sensed
it, and I knew David and the other men in the room sensed it too--there must
have been half of them now. My face blushed hot with shame, with humiliation, as
the minutes dragged by and Anthony teased me higher and higher on that
knife's edge of pleasure/pain. I was gasping huge breaths of air in when I heard
"Two minutes left," and I fought my body, fought it, trying to hold my growing
orgasm in. My thighs began shaking and a moan escaped from my lips as my body
betrayed me, despising myself, hating myself, wishing I had never been born as
Anthony sensed my capitulation and sucked my burned whipped clit hard into his mouth,
jerking his tongue over it viciously, pain merging with pleasure to send me
crashing and thrashing into orgasm, sharp gasps of pleasure escaping my lips as I
jerked about on the table top, Anthony gripping my thighs, his tongue driving
me higher and higher into pleasure until it was too much and I collapsed, spent.

Stunned silence followed, to break into applause as Anthony stood and bowed
mockingly, and I turned my head and began to cry, completely broken now, nothing
more than three holes to be fucked by these men. It had taken me twenty two
years to complete my education, another two to graduate with an MBA from
Harvard, and nine long years to become a vice president of the company, and just
two short hours to have all that stripped from me, to be turned into three holes
for these men to fuck. My self-loathing knew no bounds--I had orgasmed at the
hands of my rapist. They let me sob on the table as they congratulated Anthony,
laughing at my degradation, before untying me and beginning to use my body again.

They didn't demand I beg them to fuck me, although I would have, instead
enjoying my continuous tears, my body limp and broken like my will. They took me
in the ass and the cunt and the mouth, all eleven of them, and two of them took
me twice, until I was stuffed with come, come leaking out of my cunt and ass,
come plastering my hair to my face. I didn't care--all I could think about
was that wave of hated pleasure washing over me as Anthony gnawed on my burned,
beaten, clit. When they were finally done two of them, I don't remember which
two, held me up while another hosed me off. Then I was carried into the house
and laid on the plush carpet, falling into a deep sleep from which I hoped never
to awaken.

I did awaken though, sore and aching and tired, two naked feet leading
my eyes up into those of Anthony peering down at me as I crouched on the
floor. For a moment a thought of overpowering him flashed through my mind, but died
even before I felt the cuffs on my ankles attached by a small foot long
chain. It wouldn't have mattered anyway--what did I have to escape to? Despair
filled me as he spoke. "Ah, finally awake. I figured you'd need a little sleep
after your ordeal." He touched her face gently, and I quivered inside at his
gentleness, hating it and hating myself for responding to it. "Before I let you do
anything I had better explain a few things to you." He seemed so reasonable, I
thought, but after what had been done to me it was reasonable that I was
chained at the feet of this man. I listened because I had nothing else to do and what
he had to say might be important, must be important if he was saying it--I would
have felt the same if any of the men who had raped me was saying it. He
explained that I would be kept in this house from now on, with each one of the eleven
coming over to look after me every day, with each Saturday being a day when they
all came over to use me. If I tried to escape my punishment would be worse that
I could imagine, ten times worse than what they had done to me this night. He
even told me my new name--I cared nothing about losing the old one--Meat. My new
name was Meat, because, he said, that was what I was, a piece of meat to be
used for the pleasure of the company men and their friends. He continued and I
continued listening as he explained the rules, rules I would have to follow to
escape punishment, and I quailed at the remembrance of punishment. I would
speak only when commanded or only when questioned. I was to call all men Master
and all women Mistress. I was to obey every command of my Master or Mistress
without hesitation--even hesitation would be punished. I was to wear a collar,
ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs at all times except when cleaning myself, when
I could remove them. I was to wear a special leather bra which supported my
breasts, pushing them up and together without covering them at all, to be
removed only when my Master or Mistress commanded me to remove it. I would only
stand when commanded or when performing my household duties, which, he explained
to me, included cooking and cleaning the kitchen--a maid would come in every
day and do the rest. Whenever my Master or Mistress came near I was to assume the
submissive position, which he showed me, on my knees, sitting on my
heels, my feet together, my knees spread wide apart to expose my sex, my back
straight and my torso back, my wrists crossed behind my back, my head staring at my
Master's or Mistress's feet. These were the basics, he said; more would come
later. A small part of my mind howled at my situation, howled at being an
enslaved fuck toy for these men who were not my equal in anything else but strength
and viciousness, but that part of my mind had shrunk so small when I had
orgasmed that it was but a soft gibbering in the back of my thoughts, which
grew softer with each passing minute

end

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