4 comments/ 86882 views/ 16 favorites Earning Forgiveness Ch. 01 By: MechanicalAngel Emma and James stared at each other across the table. James lounged back in his chair, somehow managing to look smug and angry at the same time, and Emma was so shocked by what he'd said that she had actually stopped crying. James smirked at her. "You heard what I said. It's that or nothing." Emma was unable to speak, and he gave her a disappointed look as he got up to leave. "Well, you said you'd do anything; then again, you also said you'd never cheat on me, so I guess I shouldn't really take what you say at face value." "Wait." Emma spoke urgently, trying to keep him from leaving. Her eyes began to water again. "I'll do it." James stopped and looked at her. His expression was impossible to read. Emma smiled faintly. "I bet you weren't expecting me to say yes, were you? I said I'd do anything to get you back, and I meant it." James grinned and threw a bag unceremoniously on the table. "I expect you to be wearing nothing but what's in that when I open the door. 11am tomorrow. Be on time." He turned and left the café, leaving her to stare with trepidation at the canvas bag. She had wished over and over that she had never been so stupid. How could she ever think that she wanted someone besides James? She loved him so much that she felt as though she'd die if she never got to kiss him again; never got to feel his skin beside hers; never got to run her hands through his soft, brown hair and see the warmth radiating from his sea-green eyes. And now he had given her an opportunity to prove that she really was sorry. She took a deep breath. It wouldn't be too bad, she told herself. One month obeying all his rules, being his sex slave, she could do that. She had to, if she wanted him back. ***************************** So now she was knocking at his front door dressed in nothing but stilettos, seam stockings, French knickers and a lacy bra, all black. She kept looking nervously about her for people who might see her in this revealing outfit, but luckily no-one was in sight. She knocked again, her nerves only worsened by the wait. Finally, the sound of footsteps approaching the door caused her to breathe a sigh of relief. And then the door opened to reveal William standing before her. "Excellent; the whore I ordered has arrived," he said with a mocking grin. Emma could do nothing but stare at him, horrified. What on earth was James' layabout housemate doing here? She thought frantically over her conversation with James the previous day, realising with dread that he hadn't once told her they would be alone during the coming month. She blushed scarlet and looked past him, hoping desperately that James would appear. Sure enough, James soon came to the door, but he didn't look upset to see William happily drooling over the girl who would soon be his girlfriend again. "It's about time. Come on, get into the house." Emma was forced to walk close to William in order to enter the house, and she kept her eyes on the floor so she wouldn't have to look up at him. Her cheeks were still bright red, and she could feel his eyes on her pert bottom as he followed her into the open-plan living area. Once all three were in the room, James and William sat on the sofa leaving Emma standing in front of them. She awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little like a prize pig on show, or a prostitute in a whore-house line-up. "Uncross your arms," came the harsh order, and Emma did so, looking at James with surprised hurt in her eyes. He had never spoken to her like that before, even when she had told him she had cheated on him. "Don't look me in the eyes, bitch." She dropped her eyes to the floor instantly, feeling confused and upset. "I think it's time to let her know the rules, James." A smile grew on James' face as he nodded slowly. "I think you're right, William. Do you want to do the honours?" William kept up the mock-politeness, the self-satisfied note in his voice making Emma want to punch him in the nose. "She's your slut – you take the first one, at least." "No, my friend; she's our slut now." Emma's eyes flew to James' when he said that, searching for any explanation or sympathy. She found none, and felt James' hand strike her hard on the cheek. She lowered her eyes again, this time to hide the tears that were starting to form. She blinked them away angrily, and waited to hear what her ex had to say. "And that's the first rule, in fact. You will obey William and me equally. We are both your masters, no matter what you may think to the contrary. You will address us as such." William took the baton up seamlessly. "You will never look anyone in the eyes, unless told otherwise. You will not speak unless spoken to, except to ask permission to use the toilet." "You will wear what we tell you to wear and do what we tell you to do." Emma wouldn't look back up at him again, but she knew his voice well and she could tell that James was really enjoying himself. "You'll pick up the rest as you go along." "And if you don't, you will be punished." "Do you understand?" Emma kept staring at the ground, and gave them the tiniest of nods. "Yes." She was met with silence, and her heart sank even further as she realised what they expected from her. "Yes, master." William and James shared a look of triumph. "I always knew she wasn't slow on the uptake," James said. "That means you'll only get an instruction once. If you forget it after that, or if you refuse to obey it, you will be punished." "Go and stand in the corner, bitch. You'll be given more instructions later." "Yes, master." She flushed deep red again at the thought of addressing William in that way, but she walked to the corner and stood there, eyes firmly fixed to the carpet. She had always thought of him as a bit of a waste of space; a fat, perverted bastard who never paid his rent on time. And here she was taking orders from him like a common whore. The men turned the TV on and ignored her while they chatted. She couldn't decide what was worse – having them stare at her and order her around, or having them act like she wasn't even there. After a couple of hours her legs were starting to hurt in the high heels, and she was getting cold. How much longer would she have to stand there? Her question was soon answered. Looking at the ground, she hadn't been able to tell exactly what they were doing, but she heard movement and a door closing. Then she felt a hand gently caress her arse cheek. She stiffened, knowing instinctively that the hand didn't belong to James. And then a voice in her ear whispered softly. "You're going to wish you'd never cheated on him, slut." She said nothing, and the hand slowly worked its way up her side, making her shiver despite herself. "You like it, don't you?" Again, she said nothing, and got a sharp slap on her arse for her silence. "I asked you a question, bitch. Do you like being treated like a piece of meat, open to any man who wants you?" "No, master." She spat the words out, making it clear that she might follow their rules, but she wouldn't pretend to be happy about it. The hand worked across her flat stomach and up, inside her bra, to find her nipple. William stroked it until it grew hard, and to Emma's horror she felt herself starting to get wet. She cursed her body for enjoying something that her mind found so revolting, and prayed that William would soon get bored. Without warning the gentle caressing ceased and he twisted her nipple sharply, causing her to cry out. He laughed unkindly, and stood back from her. "I want you to look at me." Emma kept her eyes on the ground. Their rule that she wasn't allowed to look at them had almost relieved her – she couldn't bear to look into William's eyes and see the expression of power and pleasure that would undoubtedly be in them. Suddenly he pulled at her hair, forcing her head up and bringing tears to her eyes. Reluctantly she met his gaze. "Prove to me how much you hate being touched by me," he said cruelly. "Let me see it in your eyes, and I'll stop when you've convinced me." With one hand still pulling sharply on her hair, he eased his hand down and into Emma's French knickers. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a tug on her hair reminded her that she had to keep them open or suffer the consequences. He touched the wet patch on her knickers and grinned, then softly stroked her clit. Against her will she moaned, unable to stop her desire from showing on her face as she stared at her tormentor. Over and over he rubbed her clit, shooting electricity through her with every stroke. After a minute or so of agonising pleasure he plunged three fingers deep into her cunt, smiling to feel her wetness. He pulled his hand out of her knickers and held them up, dripping, for her to see. "I don't appreciate lying, bitch, so let's try again. Do you like being treated like a piece of meat?" She knew what he wanted her to say, and now she had to say it while looking him in the eyes. She felt herself get even wetter, her traitorous body wishing he would put his fingers back inside her. "Yes, master," she whispered miserably. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. What do you like?" She spoke louder, her voice shaking slightly. "I like being treated like a piece of meat, master." Chuckling, William pulled on her hair again, forcing her head upwards. He pushed his wet fingers into her mouth and told her to suck. "You've made me dirty, you fucking whore. Lick my fingers clean." She dutifully did as he told her to, tasting her own disloyal desire on his fingers. When he was satisfied, he let go of her hair and walked away, shaking his head. "Filthy fucking whore." ***************************** Again she was left to stand alone in the corner for an age on her own. She felt tears forming in her eyes and angrily wiped them away. So their game was to play with her; to torment and humiliate her. Well, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She would follow their rules with a smile, and she would never let them see her embarrassed or upset. But her legs were aching, and she couldn't forget the disgusted look in William's eyes when he walked away from her. Why had she been aroused by him? Maybe she deserved to be degraded and humiliated like this, she thought. She had cheated on James, and despite being so determined that no-one but him would ever touch her again, she had already let William inside her and her body had enjoyed it. Maybe they were right when they said she was a slut. Unaware of what she was doing, she leant against the wall and closed her eyes. She had no idea of how much time had passed since William had left her alone, no idea of what time it was now, but she felt exhausted. Leaning against the cool wall, Emma fell asleep. She was awoken with a slap that stung her and made her eyes water again. "We did not give you permission to sleep, bitch." It was James, but she could see another pair of feet beside his – they were both there this time. She heard James sigh, and fought the urge to look up at him. "You have to understand your place in this world, you know. I thought William might have gone some way to teaching you that earlier, but obviously you've learnt nothing." He leaned in and whispered, "I loved watching that, by the way. You're something to look at when you're getting finger fucked." Despite all her earlier resolutions, she blushed again, and both men laughed. "You're only here to please us," William explained in an exasperated voice. "You must realise that you don't exist anymore. Emma, with all her thoughts and feelings and memories, has left the building. Now you're just an object, to be used just like any other object." "If we want to fuck you, you're a cunt. If we want to be pleasured, you're a mouth. If we want to sit down, you're a fucking chair and if we want to piss, you're a urinal. Are you starting to understand?" "Yes, master." "What's your name?" William asked her abruptly. Emma said nothing. "What's your name, bitch?" James slapped her across the face again. "I don't have one, master." "That's right. And what are you?" "Nothing, master. Just an object." "Good." James sounded satisfied. "Look up at William." Emma did so. "What is he holding?" It was a small black leather collar, with a small ring on the front and a padlock at the back. "A collar, master." William grinned. "Not just any collar. This is your collar." Emma had known it was coming as soon as she had seen it, but she couldn't help flushing at the thought of being collared like an animal. James pulled her head round by her hair, and instructed her to look at him. He was holding a short leash. "And what is this?" "It's a – it's my lead, master?" Emma stammered. James nodded, and within a minute she was collared, the lead attached to the little hook on the collar. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt unnatural around her neck, like she wasn't the same person any more. They were slowly taking her apart piece by piece, and she had the feeling this degradation wouldn't be the last she would be expected to suffer before James agreed to take her back. Feeling utterly dejected, Emma returned her gaze to the floor. "Well done. You're learning fast." That came from William, sounding smug and smarmy. Again, it took all Emma's self-control not to smack him across the face. But she was being punished and she was proving her love to James, so her hands remained limp and submissive at her sides. "Are you hungry?" At those words, Emma's stomach growled. She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and hours must have passed since then. "Yes, master." James took the lead and walked towards the kitchen, giving Emma no choice but to follow or be strangled. William walked behind her, and her body burned with the knowledge his eyes were on her as she went. "Starting today you're going to learn how to cook. On the counter are the ingredients you'll need to make a simple Spaghetti Bolognese. You'll also find a recipe and a button-remote. When the food is ready, press the button and we'll come down. If the food doesn't taste good, you'll be punished severely. Do you understand?" Emma could have cried. James knew that she couldn't cook to save her life; she hated it so much that he had always cooked for them both. Without another word they left the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind them. Emma thought she might have heard it lock, but she wasn't sure, and she didn't dare check. ***************************** A short time later, Emma's mouth was watering. She was starving now, and she couldn't wait to eat some of the spaghetti she had made. She felt a sense of pride at having managed it, although she had no clue what it was going to taste like. Nervously she pushed the button, hoping it would meet approval. A glance at the clock told her it was just after six o'clock. She'd been a slave for seven hours. James and William came into the kitchen and she automatically dropped her gaze to the floor. "Take out two plates and serve it up," James instructed. "Then set the table and stand in the corner." She did as she was told with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Wasn't she even going to be allowed to eat the food she had sweated over? James and William sat at the table and began to eat. They swapped a few derogatory comments about her cooking, and she hoped that was just for show. She had tried her hardest – surely they wouldn't punish her for that? Her stomach grumbled again, and William laughed. "It's coming bitch, don't worry." After what felt like hours, James pushed his chair out and walked over to a high cupboard. With her eyes fixed on the lino, Emma didn't know what he was doing, but she hoped desperately that she would be allowed to eat something soon. "Your dinner's in the corner," said William eventually. Emma looked up and saw a large dog-bowl in the corner of the room. One partition was filled with the leftover spaghetti from James and William's plates, the other with water. She stared at it numbly, knowing what they meant her to do but unable to move. "If you don't want it, we can throw it away," James said casually. Miserably, she walked over to the dog-bowl and knelt in front of it. She reached her hands out to pick up some spaghetti, but they were slapped away. "It's not polite to eat with your hands." William grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her. She felt the cool metal of handcuffs being fastened on her wrists, and she was unable to move her arms. Emma looked at the bowl and knew she now had no choice. She lowered her head, the movement difficult without her hands to balance, and began to eat. The spaghetti was cold, but she was hungry. It was surprisingly hard to get hold of the food with just her mouth, and even harder to lap at the water. Soon she had sauce covering her face and chest, and water was slopped down her front. James and William hadn't left the room; they were sat at the kitchen table watching her eat. "This is how you're going to eat all your meals from now on, bitch," William informed her. "If we let you eat at a table with a knife and fork you might get confused and think that you're a real person." "I'm just looking forward to the day she makes something like rice pudding," James said snidely. As they both chuckled at that, Emma tried to ignore them and focus on getting as little food on herself as possible. "This might be a good time to talk about your daily routine," said William. "You'll get up every day at eight am to shower and remove all your body hair." "And when he says all, he means all, whore. That means you had better take more care than you did when you were still a person, because if we find any hair you will be punished." James had always laughingly complained at the mediocre effort Emma put into shaving her pussy, back when they were still a couple. "You'll find an outfit on the bed in the spare room. Get dressed and come down here, and you'll find a list of the meals we want to eat that day. You'll make the breakfast and have it ready and on the table for exactly half past nine. You'll eat whatever we don't finish, and you won't leave anything that we put in your bowl. When you're done, you'll put the plates and your bowl into the dishwasher and lick up whatever mess you've made on the floor so that it's clean." "You'll wash any food off yourself at the kitchen sink, and then go into the living room and stand in the corner. You'll stay there until we say otherwise. We'll follow the same routine for lunch and dinner, except we'll tell you when we want you to start cooking. Do you understand?" Emma's heart was pounding at the thought of enduring this humiliation every day for a month, but she managed to pull her face out of the spaghetti to answer. "Yes, master." It took far longer than she would have liked to finish her dinner, and when she had finally licked the last of the sauce and lapped up the last drops of water she stood up, picked up their plates and put them in the dishwasher along with the awful dog bowl. Then she did as she had been ordered, and licked the remaining food up off the floor. As she did so, she realised she had no idea when the floor had last been cleaned. There she was, a woman in her twenties wearing nothing but French-knickers, high heels and a collar, hands cuffed behind her back and licking a kitchen floor that was probably filthy. She felt sickened with herself, but at the same time she was horrified to feel herself getting slightly damp again. She blushed and prayed that the men wouldn't notice as she finished up, washed herself at the kitchen sink, and walked into the living room as they had told her to. ***************************** Again, they left her alone for some time to think about everything they had already made her do, before they came back into the living room. This time, they got straight into it. "We're not going to lie to you, bitch; the food was crap. We know that was the best you can do, so you won't get punished today, but we expect the standard to improve quickly so you had better get your arse in gear." Earning Forgiveness Ch. 01 Emma felt relieved. She had been dreading the punishments that they might have in mind for her. Her relief was short-lived though, when William told her to stand in front of the sofa, where they were sat. William toying with her earlier had felt like a warped introduction to her new life, and the whole cooking and eating humiliation was clearly going to be a regular thing. But Emma had a feeling this was going to be her first idea of what they were going to do to her for the rest of her time there. This was how they were going to have their fun. "I was interested at how easily you were turned on by William earlier." Emma felt her face grow hot at the thought. "I was wondering if it's just me and William and your mystery affair man that get you going, or all men. What do you think, bitch?" "I don't know, master," Emma managed to mutter. "Oh well. We'll find out soon enough, I suppose." James didn't say anything more, leaving Emma to wonder what he meant by that. She had a sinking idea that she already knew, but she reassured herself that James would never be so cruel. "It's getting late," William said softly. "I want to go out." Emma tried to subdue the feeling of dread that was rising in her. Surely James would never be so cruel? And yet he wasn't saying anything to stop his friend. "Go into the spare room," came William's voice again. "You'll find an outfit laid out on the bed; something fit for you to wear out. Put it on, and come back down immediately." She managed to leave the room, her legs shaking slightly, and climbed the stairs to the spare room. She paled when she saw what lay on the bed. She eased her feet out of the uncomfortable heels and sat down miserably, staring at the clothes that she was expected to wear. After a minute, James called up the stairs to hurry her up, and she quickly stood and started to dress. She pulled the black leather skirt on and could feel that it barely covered her arse. She said a silent prayer for the French-knickers: without them on she felt sure she would be displaying her pussy to everyone they passed. She looked at the other item that had been provided for her. It was a tight-fitting, backless halter-neck that pushed her tits up and stopped above her midriff. Finally, a glance at the foot of the bed told her that she wasn't going to be wearing the heels tonight. Instead, a pair of thigh-high black boots in her size was waiting for her. She pulled them on and zipped them up. When she was dressed she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get up the courage to look at herself in the mirror. When she finally did, all her worst fears were confirmed. She looked like a common prostitute, and she assumed that was the look they had intended. She descended and entered the living room again. Both men laughed when they saw her, and James approached her slowly. "You always were a filthy little whore; you just covered it with pretty clothes and a dignified look," he said softly. "Now you finally look the part."Emma kept her eyes down and her mouth shut. "I can't wait to see what our friends think of you," he said. "What do reckon we'll get for her?" He looked over at William with a smile and then looked Emma up and down. "A couple of quid a go?" William joined his friend and prodded Emma in the side, as if testing for firmness. He shrugged. "Let's not set our sights too high. Most men have a way of knowing when they're dealing with soiled goods." He leant in close to Emma's face and grinned cruelly. "I say we'll be lucky if we get anything for the little tramp." Something inside Emma snapped. She'd been prodded and slapped, and leered over, and now this bastard was treating her like a prostitute. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked William in the eyes. With all the viciousness she could manage, she spat in his face. In an instant James tugged on the lead still fastened to her collar, and she fell painfully to her knees. James held her in position with her arms tightly behind her, but she was still looking up at William with loathing, pleased to see that he looked faintly disgusted as he wiped her spit off his face. "If you do that again, you will sleep naked in the garden like the animals do," he said in a dangerously quiet tone. "Fuck you," she said fiercely, struggling to get free of James. Her boyfriend pulled her arms tighter still, and she had to either stop struggling or severely hurt her shoulders. She fell still but stared defiantly up at William as he approached her. "You will be punished for that." James locked her arms in place with cuffs, and she could barely move her upper body without hurting herself. He pulled her roughly onto her feet and, without her arms to steady her, she stumbled. She instinctively looked to James for support but found none. He had moved to stand beside William, and now both of them were staring down at her. She found her balance and stood, still staring rebelliously at them. She was angry, and prepared to fight if she had to. After a moment of silence, the two men glanced at each other and then walked up the stairs, leaving her alone in the living room. She stared after them, wondering what was going to happen to her next. She wondered if she had ruined her chances of getting James back, and moments later asked herself why she would want to be with a man who would do this to her anyway. For an age she stood there waiting for them to return. When they eventually came back, Emma dropped her gaze to the floor. As soon as she did so she flushed. Why had she dropped her gaze? She'd decided to leave, hadn't she? "I knew she'd still be here," William said. "She loves being treated like this, deep down. She's just got to get used to it." He approached her from behind and forced a ball-gag into her mouth, fastening it tightly behind her head. "Can't run the risk of you spitting at me again," he said with a sneer. "Would you like to know what we're going to do with you, whore?" Emma was silenced by the gag, so she could only nod. "We thought you'd learned your place in this world, but obviously you haven't. We can't take you out in public if you're going to embarrass us, so you will have to stay here until you learn to behave," said James. He slipped her clothes off, her hands still cuffed, but left the boots on. Taking hold of the lead, he pulled her into the dining room. Now she understood why they had eaten dinner at the smaller table in the kitchen. The dining table was gone from the dining room. In its place was a hard bench, with small rings attached to either end. A table in the corner held an assortment of chains and paddles. Emma's skin prickled at the sight of it. She had never thought they would do something like this to her. "Look up." She obeyed William's command, and saw him looking carefully at the implements. "Which one do you think I should use?" She couldn't speak with the ball-gag in, and she knew he didn't expect her to answer anyway, so she remained silent. Eventually he picked up a large paddle, drilled with holes. "We'll go easy on you, since it's your first day." James pulled at her lead again, forcing her down onto her knees. He pushed her over the bench and removed the lead so he could fasten her collar to one of the rings set into the bench. Finally, he chained her ankles to rings in the floor that she hadn't noticed before, and she was firmly in place, her arse and pussy displayed, unable to move. He picked up a chair and sat down in front of her. When he spoke, he spoke kindly. "I'm going to remove your gag now, and I don't want you to make a sound. If you spit at me or William your punishment will be worse. Do you understand?" Emma nodded as best she could with her chin on the bench, and James undid the gag and threw it to one side. He stood up for William to take his seat. "You're going to be punished because you showed a great deal of disrespect by spitting at me," William said. He was also speaking in a gentle voice, and Emma felt thoroughly confused. "We won't punish you more than we think is necessary, but you must learn to show us more respect. You will begin now, by thanking us for taking time to punish you." He stared at her and waited patiently for her to speak. In her confusion, and lulled by his kind voice, she did as he said. "Thank you for punishing me, master." William smiled and stood up, pushing the chair away. "You're most welcome. Now I'm going to strike you with the paddle you saw a few minutes ago. You will thank me every time I strike you with it. Do you understand?" Despite his words, his tone was soft and relaxing, and she said she understood. Before she had time to prepare, he had hit her with the paddle. Her arse-cheeks burned immediately, and tears stung her eyes. But she managed to stammer out, "Thank you, master." He rained blow after blow down on her arse, until she thought she might pass out with the pain of it. But still she managed a thank you every time he struck her. Finally he stopped, and she heard the sound of the paddle being hung back on the wall. Her knees were stiff, her back was aching, and her arse was throbbing. James let her loose from the rings in the bench and on the floor, and gently helped her to her feet. William, equally gently, unfastened her arms. "Rub your arms if it will ease them," he suggested quietly. With relief, Emma flexed her arms and rubbed them to get her blood going again. She tried to ignore the pain in the rest of her body, and felt grateful for the small allowance they had given her. "Do you understand why we had to punish you?" "Yes master," she said quietly. "Why did we have to punish you?" "It was wrong of me to spit at my master." "Why was it wrong?" "I'm not a person, and I'm not allowed to do anything unless I'm given permission." They were silent. "And because it was disrespectful, master." "What should you have done?" "Nothing, master. I should have done what I was told." She was exhausted and all the fight had left her. She felt relieved that they were speaking kindly to her, and grateful that the punishment was over. She would have done anything they had told her to at that point. William fastened the lead back onto her collar and led her up the stairs. She was expecting to be taken to the spare bedroom, but instead she saw a small cage waiting in the hallway. "Take off your boots," James ordered. She did as he said, and then stood naked and waiting for the next command. "If you are particularly good we may allow you to sleep in a bed," William said. "But you must remember that you are nothing but an object, and so sleeping in a bed will be a privilege – a special reward for good behaviour. Otherwise this will be where you sleep." He pressed a button and the cage door unlocked. James pushed her gently towards it and she dutifully crawled in. They had done nothing to make the cage comfortable for her, Emma discovered. The floor was hard plastic, and she was cramped. She couldn't stretch out without the metal bars pressing against her, and when they shut the door the space was even less. "The door will unlock automatically at eight am," James told her. "A buzzer in your collar will wake you up. The list of meals will be in the kitchen when you go downstairs." They walked away and left her alone to think about the day. She had been molested by James' house-mate, a man she had always detested; she had been dressed up like a whore and mocked; she had been forced to eat out of a dog bowl; and she had been locked to a bench and beaten. Briefly, she wondered why she was letting them do this to her; if getting back together with James was really worth all this humiliation; but pain and exhaustion soon stopped her mind from working and, despite the uncomfortable surroundings, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 02 Morning came far too quickly, and when the buzzer went off at eight am, Emma couldn't think why she was naked and in a cage. Then everything came flooding back; the humiliation she had endured yesterday, the situation she found herself in; and she blushed a deep red. The orders William and James had given her the previous afternoon rang in her mind, and she dutifully pushed the cage door open and crawled out. Her knees and back were throbbing from being cramped all night, and her arse still felt like it was on fire. She stretched slowly, and gently moved her neck back and forth in an attempt to ease it. She found her way to the bathroom and stepped into the shower, the hot water soothing her aching muscles. She washed her hair and found a women's razor on the side. Carefully, she removed all her body hair, paying particular attention to her pussy. She had never much bothered with it, doing only enough to look neat and presentable, and before long her arm was aching with the effort. Eventually she ran a hand over her pussy and arsehole, and felt that it was good enough. She stepped out and dried herself off, then padded over to the spare bedroom, praying they had left her something more comfortable to wear today. She found another pair of ridiculously high-heels, red this time, and a red thong. Again, there was nothing else for her to put on. With a sigh, she slipped into the clothes and glanced at herself in the mirror. They had provided a hair-drier and brush, and she assumed she was supposed to make herself look presentable. When she was finally satisfied that they wouldn't complain about her appearance, Emma glanced at the clock. It was nine am, so she tottered down the stairs, hoping they hadn't asked her to prepare anything too complicated for breakfast. She quickly found the menu: toast and cereal for breakfast, fish and chips for lunch, and nothing for dinner. That gave her pause, but she didn't think much about it. She just thanked the heavens that William and James seemed to have decided to go easy on her, and set about making the toast. At exactly half-past nine, William and James came into the kitchen. Emma had laid all the cereals out on the table, placed a jug of milk and a tray of buttered toast next to them, and set two place-settings. She didn't expect to be allowed to eat with them. When they arrived she was stood, as ordered, in the corner with her eyes cast down. They ignored her through breakfast, chatting about other things and generally taking their time. Eventually, James stood up and took the dog-bowl out of the dishwasher. Emma heard him scraping and slopping the leftovers into it, and didn't look up. William cuffed her hands behind her back and pushed her in the direction of the bowl. "Eat." She knelt down and looked at the food she had been given. Bits of toast were mixed in with coco pops and muesli, swimming in milk. Had they picked the worst combination of cereals, just to get at her? She could feel them getting impatient behind her, so she lowered her face into the mush and began to eat. When she had licked out the last crumbs and drops of milk, she turned her attention to the other side of the bowl. They had slopped the left-over cold coffee into it, and when she began lapping it up, she tasted sugar. She had always insisted that coffee with sugar was undrinkable, but they both had two or three sugars in their hot drinks. She felt faintly sick, but finished it all. When she was finished, she licked up the food and drink that had spilled, then picked up the dishes and the bowl and put them all into the dishwasher, turning it on before washing herself in the sink. Bits of muesli had already dried onto her bare chest, and she had to pick them off. Without looking at William and James, she dried herself and walked into the living room, standing in the corner and waiting, as she had been told to. After a few minutes they joined her there, lounging back casually on the sofa. "You've learned well," William said approvingly. "The food wasn't half-bad either." "Although it was only toast and cereal, so we're not holding our breath," James said lightly. "The house is a mess," William told her. "Your first job today will be to clean it, top to bottom. I figure it will take you a couple of hours. The cleaning products are in the kitchen. We'll be checking, so it had better be pristine." He got up and removed the cuffs, and then both men ignored her. Emma had been expecting something much worse, so she didn't hesitate to go into the kitchen. She took all the cleaning products out of the cupboard under the sink – they never cleaned up after themselves, and she didn't even know they had cleaning products. They must have got them in just for her. She set about wiping down the counters and cupboard doors, before moving onto the oven, which needed scrubbing. Finally she swept and mopped the floor, feeling relief that she could be certain of its cleanliness for her next meal. She moved through the house, tidying and polishing, throwing away rubbish and emptying ash-trays. She picked up all their clothes and put them in the laundry basket, and vacuumed the carpets. She bleached the toilet and scrubbed the shower. Finally, she felt confident that it would meet with their approval, and returned to the living-room. William and James weren't there, so she stood in her corner and waited for them to come back. "Not bad, bitch." James was grinning; she could hear it in his voice. "It's nice to know we've got a full-time maid as well as a sex-toy living in the house." Emma blushed, but didn't say anything. She was tired and wanted to sit down, but she knew she wouldn't be allowed. Worse, the coffee and the milk were taking effect and she was starting to need to go to the toilet. They had told her she was allowed to go, but the thought of asking permission like a child felt humiliating. Still, she couldn't ignore it much longer, and who knew what they would have her do next. "Master?" she said in a small voice. "What is it?" "May I go to the toilet, please, master?" There was a moment of agonising silence, and Emma prayed they would let her. Then William said, "Of course you can." She almost smiled and began to move towards the stairs, but before she could get anywhere, James had clipped the lead onto her collar. They were going to lead her up there, she realised. But James wasn't walking towards the stairs. He was leading her into the kitchen, towards the back door. A slow understanding crept up on Emma, and she hoped she was wrong. James unlocked the door and led her out into the garden, William following behind. She hesitated, and William gave her a push. "Go on, then." "I don't think she understands," said James. "We've explained it to you over and over again," William said in a bored and mocking voice. "You're not a real person; you're nothing. You sleep in a cage like an animal, you eat like an animal, and you will piss like an animal." He pulled her thong down, exposing her newly shaved pussy to the cold air, and pushed her onto her knees. "Go and crawl over to a suitable bush and do your business," he told her. The thong was tangled round her ankles, but Emma hadn't been given permission to remove it, and she didn't want to be punished again. She awkwardly crawled over to a bush and stared at it, wondering how on earth she was going to manage this without spraying herself. Finally, she realised she had no choice but to do it like a dog. Flushing red, Emma lifted the leg nearest the bush and tried to piss. Nothing came. She closed her eyes and tried to relax; tried to forget that she was outside peeing up against a bush like an animal; tried to forget that William and James were standing there watching her. And relief followed, as she emptied her bladder and managed to avoid getting any urine on herself. Awkwardly, she crawled back over to her masters and pushed herself back onto her feet. James handed her a wet-wipe and told her to clean herself up. She felt humiliated beyond belief, but she did as she was told. Once she had pulled her thong back up, they lead her back into the house. Emma sneaked a look at the clock in the kitchen, as they passed through it into the living room, and saw that it was about midday. She had got through almost three more hours already, she told herself. Time was slowly ticking past, and she could cope with it. The men ignored her for a few more hours, and when she finally thought she would die if she had to stand still any longer, William told her to get the lunch on. With relief she went into the kitchen and started to peel potatoes. Short though her time in the house had been, she was already used to mealtimes by now, and she got through the leftovers in her bowl quite quickly. Far too soon, she was back in the living room again, and waiting for them to give the next order. It came immediately. "Stand in front of the sofa and look at us." She did as she was told. They were both sat comfortably on the big sofa, feet up on the coffee table that she had polished that morning. They were drinking cans of beer and grinning at her. "We're going out this evening," William told her. "We don't want a repeat of last night's performance, ok?" "Yes master," she replied dutifully, trying to look at them while avoiding their eyes. It was much worse when she looked into their eyes. "Good. Tonight we'll be meeting up with some friends, and we want to be able to show off what you can do," continued William. "You will give them the same respect and obedience you show us. You'll address every man you meet as sir, and every woman as miss. Do you understand?" "Yes, master." "We don't want to be embarrassed by you," James said warningly. "You will be punished severely if you show us up." "Yes, master." "We want to be proud of you. We want to be able to show that you are the most obedient slave ever. So we're going to spend the afternoon preparing." That sounded ominous to Emma, but she just nodded. "Yes, master." The men smiled at each other, and William disappeared. James stared at Emma, looking faintly amused and mocking. "You didn't think I'd go through with this," he said softly. It wasn't a question so Emma said nothing, thinking silently that he was right. "But you're a cheating whore who needs to be taught a lesson, and then I might be able to trust you." "Yes, master." So he was just teaching her a lesson, getting back at her, before he took her back. Emma could cope with that, she thought. She was just getting what she deserved, she told herself. She had brought this on herself; besides, she had gone too far to stop now. If she backed out, she would have eaten off the floor and pissed outside for nothing, and she didn't think she could handle that. William returned carrying a cardboard box, which he put on the ground in front of Emma. "We're going to play a game," he said lightly. "Have you ever played lucky dip, bitch?" "Yes, master." "Excellent, then you'll understand how this works. You're going to dip your hand into that box and pull something out. Whatever you pull out will determine what we're going to do first." She waited for an order. "Go on, then." With trepidation, Emma closed her eyes and felt around in the box. She touched something long and hard that felt like a dildo, and moved her hand away from it. She closed her hand on something soft and pulled it out. Whatever it was, it wouldn't hurt her, and surely it wouldn't be something sexual. She opened her eyes and saw that she held a simple ball. What on earth were they going to do to her with that? James' eyes lit up, and he took the ball from her. "So you want to play fetch, do you? Come on, then." He took her lead and led her back out into the garden. Her nipples hardened instantly in the cold, and William laughed as he cuffed her hands in front of her, removed the lead, and attached the cuffs to the ring in her collar. He pushed her down onto her knees and, without her hands to steady her, she fell onto her elbows. "When one of us throws the ball, you will crawl over to it and bring it back to us, as fast as you can." William took the ball from James and grinned at her. "OK, bitch – fetch." He hurled the ball as far away as he could manage, and Emma crawled as quickly as possible over to it, using her elbows as an extra limb. She felt, as they had no doubt intended, exactly like a dog as she shuffled along, arse high in the air and face close to the ground. She found the ball lying in some undergrowth, and knew how she was expected to pick it up. Opening her mouth she bit into the ball and struggled to pick it up. Before she was half-way back to them she lost her grip and the ball fell onto the ground. They laughed as she wrestled with it again, and William called out, "you'll have to do better tonight, bitch." She flushed, but focused on picking up the ball and getting through the ordeal as soon as possible. Thankfully they seemed to get bored after a short while, and led her back into the house. Standing in front of the box again, Emma felt extremely reluctant to pick anything out: if they could get such a humiliating task just from a ball, she dreaded to think what else they might have in store for her. She realised she couldn't predict what they were going to do with any particular object, so she just pulled out the first thing she touched. She went cold when she saw what she was holding. It unmistakeably was a butt-plug, and Emma had always refused point-blank to let James put anything in her arse. They both looked delighted at the sight of it, and William stepped forward. She knew he had a thing about anal sex: he had told her one night that his favourite porn films were the ones where two men were fucking one woman in the arsehole. It was one of the reasons she hated him: he was always talking about sex in that repulsive way of his. She had told James that night that she found William and his love of anal-sex disgusting. Judging by the glee in his expression, James had passed the message on. "Do you want me to stick this up your arse, bitch?" She remembered what had happened last time she had said no to William. She understood now that she was supposed to just agree with them both, no matter what they said. Reluctantly, she muttered, "Yes master." "In that case, I want you to turn around, take down your thong, spread your legs wide and bend over." She did so. "Good. Now, hold your arsehole open wide with both hands." Miserably, she pulled at her arse-cheeks and made some effort to hold them apart, presenting her arsehole to him. She could feel their eyes on her behind, and she blushed. William walked around until he was facing her, and crouched down. "Open wide," he said. He pushed the butt-plug into her mouth and instructed her to suck. "Get it nice and moist, bitch. This is the only lubrication you're going to get." That information made her suck hard, trying desperately to get the butt-plug as wet as possible. He pulled it out of her mouth and walked back round towards the sofa. He nudged her arsehole with the butt-plug, but didn't push it in. "Now say, 'Please ream my arse with that butt plug.' And you'd better make me believe you mean it." Emma knew she was likely to get punished if she didn't satisfy him, but she had no idea how to do as he said and sound believable. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to imagine that she was asking them to let her go. "Please ream my arse with that butt plug, master," she repeated obediently. She heard the two men laughing behind her. "Wow, you're gagging for it, aren't you?" William said, sounding delighted. "I guess you don't hate anal as much as you claim," James said snidely. "That's no surprise, given what a filthy tramp you really are." Emma didn't even care about the taunting. She just felt relieved that she'd been successful and wasn't going to suffer through more spanking. Without warning, William pushed the butt-plug into her, all the way up to the hilt. She moaned at the intrusion, and her body instinctively tried to push it out. "You're going to have to control yourself," James said sternly. "That butt-plug will stay in your arsehole until we say it comes out, and if you try to get rid of it before we give you permission, we'll just replace it with a bigger one. Do you understand?" "Yes master," Emma moaned. "Get used to it," William said. "We're going to be increasing the size of butt-plug over time, and by the end of the month you'll be able to fit the philharmonic in there." He smiled at his own imagery, and told her to stand up and turn around. Conscious of the warning James had given her, Emma tensed the muscles in her arsehole as she stood, and held the butt-plug in place. It felt even more uncomfortable now that she was standing up, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. She didn't want to give William the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. "Take the next object," James ordered. She picked out a bag of sweets and wondered what on earth they were intending to do with them. She soon found out, when James bound her hands behind her back and told her to kneel up and beg for the treats like a dog. She had to follow each sweet with her head when they moved it back and forth, and when they held one high above her head they expected her to try and jump up in an attempt to get it. Of course, jumping on her knees with her hands cuffed, she fell on her face more often than not, and every time they laughed at her and gave her no help in getting up. It was almost impossible for her to keep the butt-plug from falling out, but somehow she managed it. The biggest humiliation came when William balanced a sweet on the end of her nose and told her to keep it there until he said it was OK for her to eat it. They even expected her to whimper like a puppy if they took too long giving her the treat. When she got one, she had to thank them for it. The next item was one of those awful fake vaginas, which James made her hold. "William's going to get his cock out and you will toss him off into the vagina. We want it to be nice and wet inside for you," he told her. She was dreading this: the first time she had to actually touch William's penis. She could cope with him putting his fingers inside her; she could cope with him mocking her and humiliating her; but she didn't want to touch his cock. It felt too real, somehow. But she knew she had no choice, and she crawled over to him and waited. When she reached out for his cock, William smacked her hands away sharply. "What do you think you're doing, whore?" Emma hesitated. They had told her to touch him, hadn't they? "I'm sorry master," she began falteringly. "I thought –" "You're a filthy fucking object, and my penis is worth more on its own than the whole of you. You will show it the respect it deserves." She bit her lip, unsure what they expected of her. "If someone allows you to touch their penis or vagina, you will thank them for it, and kiss the feet of that person to show your gratitude. Then you'll thank the penis or vagina in the same way. Do you understand?" Emma didn't look up at James when he spoke, but she nodded. "Yes, master." She turned back to William's cock. Did they really expect her to thank him for the privilege of touching it? She took a deep breath, and looked up at William. "Thank you for letting me touch your penis, master." Sickened by her own words, she bent over and kissed each of William's shoes, and then straightened up so she was, once again, level with his cock. "Thank you, master." Then she reached out and started to stroke it, feeling it grow hard in her hand. She fought the urge to hurt him, dreading what the punishment might be, and tried to ignore what she was doing. Before long she felt him stiffen further, and knew instinctively that he was about to come. She thrust his cock into the fake vagina and he sighed as he came into it. When he was done he withdrew carefully, not spilling a drop of semen. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 02 "Lap it up," James ordered her harshly. She looked at the white mess and tentatively began to lick William's come out of the fake vagina. "There will be women there this evening, you see, and some of them may want to be pleasured by you. We want to make sure you've had some experience." Emma had never even kissed a girl in her life, and the thought of going down on one made her shudder. She didn't even touch herself down there. But still she licked at William's cum, and tried to forget about the evening that was to come. "Don't be so gentle, bitch." William pushed her face into the fake vagina and she got his cum all over her face. Finally, her tongue aching and with cum in her eyes and up her nose, she was allowed to stop. "Go upstairs and wash yourself off," James told her. "Then put on the outfit that's been laid out for you." Emma did as she was told, and found the same clothes that she had worn the night before. The boots were gone, though, and instead she pulled on a pair of black high-heels that made it difficult to walk. She glanced at the clock. It was five pm when she tottered down the stairs. "Good," James said when she came back into the living room. "Let's go." He took her lead and pulled her towards the door. Horrified, Emma realised that not only were they not going to give her any underwear; they were also going to leave the butt-plug lodged in her arsehole. Surely they didn't expect her to go anywhere like this? She was convinced the tip of the butt-plug could be seen beneath her skirt, and the streets were bound to be full of people: it was a Friday night. But they clearly had no plans to remove the butt-plug. And neither were they intending to get straight into a car, as she had hoped. James unclipped the lead and told Emma to stay close to them or suffer the consequences. Her masters were dressed in suits, and she knew she must stick out like a sore thumb between them. They were walking towards the centre of town where the pubs and clubs were, and Emma could feel people's eyes on her. Still, no-one actually approached them on their walk. Emma was actually relieved to be with James and William: she assumed that was why no-one was coming near them. They finally stopped a little way from a pub, packed with people who had come for a drink after work before starting on their real night out. They were young, around her age, and at another time she might have been one of them. James handed her a note. "Go inside, sit at the bar, and order a vodka and coke. You can cross your legs, but if you uncross them you're not allowed to have them closed. Smile at anyone that looks at you. Be polite but not flirty, and make conversation with anyone that approaches you. If anyone asks, your name is Scarlet and you don't want to tell them you're your job is. If anyone asks why you're not wearing underwear, tell them it's because you like people to see your cunt. If anyone asks why you've got a butt-plug shoved up your arse, tell them it's because it turns you on. If anyone asks you to join them you will accept, but make sure you sit on a backless chair and facing the crowd. If they ask why, it's because you like to be looked at. If anyone asks to see your cunt you will show them. William and I will be in there too, but you're not to look at us or indicate that you know us. We'll make sure no-one gets too rough with you." Emma paled at the thought of going into the crowded pub dressed the way she was, and the answers she was supposed to give. But William pushed her towards the building. "If you finish your drink, order another one. Keep going until we come and get you." She took a deep breath and stepped forwards. Slowly she walked towards the pub, and the looks felt much more predatory now that she was on her own. She tried to ignore the crowd standing outside, and pushed through the throng to get to the bar. She hopped onto a barstool as best she could in her heels and crossed her legs so she didn't have to keep them open. She immediately realised that only made her dress ride up, and she was even more convinced that her arse was showing. Before she had time to decide which was worse, the barman approached her, staring at her cleavage. "I'll have a vodka and coke, please." The barman nodded and mixed her drink. Almost as soon as she had it in her hand, a drunken voice came from a table behind her. "Has that girl got a fucking butt-plug up her fucking arse?" The man wasn't bothering to stay quiet, and Emma could hear every word. Emma closed her eyes and prayed desperately that he wouldn't approach her. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and smiled at the man, as she had been told to. "Yes?" He was in his mid-twenties, smartly dressed but clearly one of those men that shouted come-ons at women in the street. His friends were sat behind him, grinning like idiots and urging him on. "Have you got a butt-plug in your arse?" Speaking as quietly as she could manage, she said she did. She was still smiling at him, and the man seemed to think that meant she was happy to talk to him. "Boys, come over here." A couple of his friends joined him, surrounding her at the bar. She sipped her drink for fortification, and winced as she realised the barman had poured her a double without her asking. "What's your name, love?" "Scarlet." "Why have you got a butt-plug in your arse, Scarlet?" She was dreading the question, and it had been asked already. Not only that, but the man's voice was so loud that it had attracted the attention of everyone nearby. They were all watching her, waiting to hear her answer. Quietly, she replied, "Because it turns me on." "It fucking turns her on!" the man shouted. A table of women close by scowled at her and looked disgusted. Emma knew that look: she had given it herself to the slappers that wore revealing clothes and practically had sex on the dance-floor at clubs. She wanted to sink through the floor and die. "Do you wanna join us at our table?" his friend said eagerly. "Yes, thank you." Emma was still smiling, and she could feel their excitement at meeting such a slut at their local pub. She followed the three men to their table, where a group more were sat drooling over her cleavage. She took the stool nearest to the crowd and sat down, thanking the stars that they hadn't asked her why she had chosen to sit there. "This is Scarlet, everyone. She's got a butt-plug shoved up her arse. She says it turns her on." "It that true, darling?" Emma looked at the man who had spoken and smiled at him. "Yes, it is." The men all laughed and smacked the table in delight. "You're a fucking whore," one of them said. "You aren't wearing any underwear either, are you?" "No." "Why not?" They were all staring at her now, eager to hear what her answer would be. "Because I like people to see my cunt." Saying those words made Emma blush, and she cringed at their obvious pleasure. "But we can't see your cunt, Scarlet," the first man said eagerly. "Your legs are crossed." "Yeah, show us your cunt if you like people to see it so much." Emma considered running out of the pub right then, just leaving and never coming back. But instead she slowly uncrossed her legs, pushed the stool back a little to give them an unobstructed view, and opened her legs to show them her pussy. "She's shaved as well!" She could feel the eyes of every person in the pub boring into her, and she wished the men would keep their voices down. The women nearby were giving her open looks of disgust now, and Emma was fighting the urge to look for James and William to save her. Of course they wouldn't save her; this was her role in life now. They were making that very clear to her tonight. "Alright, Scarlet; you've had your fun. Let's go." Emma whipped round to see William staring at her, arms folded. "Hey, who are you to tell her when to leave? She's enjoying herself." William turned to the man. "I'm the man that's going to put her away for solicitation." The men quickly fell back. "And I wouldn't get too close to this one, guys. Not unless you want your cocks to fall off. God only knows how many diseases she's carrying." William pulled her out of the chair and led her towards the door, men and women alike now looking at her with disgust and calling out derogatory comments as she passed. James followed them, and they walked in silence a little way down the street, finally pulling into an alley. They were grinning at her and she looked at the floor, face burning with humiliation. "Did you enjoy that, bitch?" James asked her quietly. "Yes master," she replied. She felt degraded and cheap, and they knew it. "Why did we have you show yourself off to the crowd in that pub?" "To show me that I'm worthless, master. To teach me that I'm nothing, to be looked at by anyone who wants to look." "She does learn quickly, I'll give her that," said William mockingly. "You did well, and we're not going to punish you," he said to Emma. "But you're a filthy fucking whore for enjoying it." Emma's face flushed even more at that, but she said nothing. "Well, the night's still young," James said with relish. "And that was just the warm-up." They pushed her out of the alley and hailed a taxi. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 03 The taxi pulled up outside a house that Emma recognised. It belonged to a friend of William and James, a man called Daniel. She had met him once or twice, and didn't much like him. He was from the same mould as William: perverted and lazy. William clipped the lead to the ring in her collar while James paid for the taxi, and they walked up the stairs to Daniel's house. Daniel pulled the door open and laughed loudly when Emma averted her eyes respectfully. "I see you've finally taught the whore her place then, James? About time, too." He stepped aside to let them into the hallway. "Where do you want us to put this?" William asked, nodding in Emma's direction. "Oh, just tie her up anywhere. The others will be arriving soon." William tightly knotted the lead to the banister, forcing Emma to stand facing the door. Without another word, they left her in the hallway and walked into the living room. Emma had hoped that they would be going to meet people she didn't know; the thought of more people that she knew showing up filled her with dread. There was a knock on the door, and Daniel came to answer. He opened the door and Emma saw a woman stood there; another of William's friends, and one that Emma had always thought of as a cheap tramp. Today she looked smart, and glanced at Emma with a sneer. She slipped off her coat and held it out to Daniel. "Where shall I put this?" "Just drop it on the slut," he said casually, and Lisa threw her coat in Emma's direction. Emma reached out to catch it, expecting punishment if she let it fall, and Lisa laughed at her. "You're certainly eager to please, aren't you? We'll see just how eager later, I suppose." One by one, people arrived. Some of them Emma knew and disliked; others she had never met before. Only one other woman arrived: someone Emma didn't know. But all of them looked at Emma, if they looked at all, with casual disdain. They were better and more important than her, and they all knew it. Emma's arms were aching under the weight of the heavy winter coats and jackets, and she longed to put them down. Finally, William came back out into the hallway and unfastened her leash. "Put the coats in one of the bedrooms upstairs and then come into the living room," he ordered quietly. She did as she was told quickly, and once in the living room she moved to stand in the nearest corner, eyes downcast. They were all staring at her; mocking and degrading stares. "How would you like us to treat the slave?" The question was aimed at James and William, and James answered coolly. "She's not quite broken in yet, I'll admit. She's still getting used to the idea that she's less important than the dirt on our shoes. So feel free to order her to do whatever you want; she's under strict instructions to obey, and it can only make her learn more quickly." She could feel the air change. All eyes were on her, all the guests no doubt wondering how each of them could do their bit to humiliate her. Lisa spoke first. "Come here, bitch." Emma moved forwards to stand in front of the other woman. "Look at me." Reluctantly, Emma raised her gaze. Why did they all make her look them in the eyes? She could see triumphant pleasure shining in Lisa's face. "Take off your clothes." Miserably, Emma did as she was told. She removed the halter-neck first, followed by the little leather skirt. "I like the butt-plug," a man said behind her. "How long has she had it in there?" James answered him, and all of a sudden, conversations were starting up around them. The message couldn't have been clearer: she was an object, and they couldn't care less about her. They would pay her attention when they wanted to, but otherwise she might as well not have been there. Lisa, however, continued to look at her. "Passable, I suppose. Tell me, do you like being naked in front of this many people?" "Yes miss," Emma spat out. "Oh dear, I see what James means," said Lisa in a sickly-sweet voice. "You really aren't quite used to your new station in life, are you? Never mind. We're all here to help you learn, you know." Lisa reached down and unbuckled her stiletto. "I've been walking in these all day and they're absolutely filthy." Emma waited to see where she was going with this. "As James said, you are worth less than the dirt on our shoes," she continued. "To help you understand that, you are going to get down onto your knees and lick my shoes clean. But first, you will thank me for allowing you to even look at my shoes." Emma was silent for a moment, staring at the stiletto that Lisa was holding. The bottom looked disgusting: as though she had deliberately walked through as much filth as she could before arriving. Emma took a deep breath, and managed to mutter thanks. "Thank you, miss, for allowing me near your shoes." Lisa nodded sanctimoniously, and held her stiletto out. Emma took it and poked her tongue out, dabbing lightly at the bottom. She felt sick. "Come now, you can do better than that." Lisa took the stiletto from her and held it. "Open wide." Emma did so. "Now, stick your tongue all the way out. Keep it out, that's right." Lisa gripped Emma's jaw and ran the sole of her shoe down the length of her tongue. Emma could taste the dirt and grime in her mouth, and tried not to wrench her face away from Lisa's grasp. "That's more like it," Lisa said, as she reached down to unbuckle her other shoe. "Now, keep going with both shoes like that until they're completely clean. I'll be checking them afterwards." Without a second thought, Lisa joined a conversation going on beside her, completely ignoring Emma. Afraid that someone might notice if she stopped licking properly, Emma continued to use the full length of her tongue, trying to ignore the taste and feel in her mouth. She felt ridiculous, kneeling in a room full of people and cleaning shoes with her tongue while no-one was even looking at her, but she felt compelled to carry on, just in case someone noticed. Eventually, Lisa pulled the stilettos from her grip and inspected them carefully. "They'll do," she said doubtfully. "Put them on my feet, slave." Emma did as she was told, buckling the shoes onto Lisa's feet and hating every moment of it. She was ordered onto her hands and knees, and Lisa rested her feet on her. She remained there for some time while everyone continued to ignore her. Lisa's heels were digging into her back and her knees were pressing painfully into the carpet, but she was relieved that nothing worse was being done to her. At last, Lisa removed her feet, giving Emma a brief respite before the next command came. "Slave, come over here." It was one of the men she hadn't met before. He was fat and unshaved, and Emma didn't want to approach him. Still, she did as she was told. "Take the butt-plug out of your arsehole." "Yes, sir." Slowly, Emma eased it out. She had to tense as she did so, because she was afraid of what else might come out otherwise. She held it gingerly, by the end that had not been inside her. "Put it in your cunt." Emma looked at it. It was slick with her shit and she didn't want it anywhere near her. She hesitated a moment too long. "Put it in your cunt, bitch, or I'll shove it in your mouth and you'll keep it there." His threat pushed her into action, and she quickly inserted the filthy butt-plug into her pussy. It slid in easily, and she felt nauseous at the thought that it was lubricated by her own shit. She looked up at the man, hoping that she would be allowed to remove it now, but he just waved her back to stand in the corner. She knew better than to move the butt-plug without permission. Her arse-hole felt stretched beyond belief, and she soon felt an uncomfortable sensation rising up in her. She tried for as long as she could to hold it in, but eventually she had to speak up. "Master?" William was nearer to her than James, and he looked up. "Do you need to take a shit?" "Yes, master." She spoke quietly, hoping to avoid the attention of the crowd. But William was having none of it. "Dan," he said in a loud voice, "the slave needs to shit. We don't allow her to use the toilet; have you got a compost heap or something?" Daniel grinned and nodded. "In the garden. Do you want me to take her?" "Why don't we all go," the other woman said with a smirk. "We could do with some light entertainment." The idea seemed to appeal to the group, and the woman led Emma out and into the back garden. Emma was having great difficulty walking with the butt-plug in her pussy, and she stumbled more than once. Each time, they all laughed at her. Daniel pushed her in the direction of the compost heap. "Go on then, bitch. Do your business." Emma crawled over to the compost and crouched, relieved that they hadn't bound her hands this time. She turned away from the crowd, and James called out harshly to her. "Hands and knees, bitch, and keep that arse nice and high." So she wouldn't be allowed to crouch. She got awkwardly onto her hands and knees, and pushed her arse into the air. She couldn't hold it any longer, and her bowels emptied themselves quickly. She heard them laughing behind her, and was mortified to feel her bladder emptying too. When she finally finished, she was a mess: compost on her hands and knees, and piss and shit running down her legs. "Absolutely revolting," came an amused male voice. "She has no self-respect at all." "Then she must be finally learning her place," one of the others drawled casually. The man told Emma to stand up, and then hit her with the hose. The water was freezing, but at least she was clean. "Dry yourself off before you come back in," he said, throwing a dirty towel at her. "And take that butt-plug out of your cunt as well, you disgusting little tramp; it's filthy." When she was dry, she returned to her corner and was ignored yet again. She was relieved to be free of the butt-plug at last, and tried to make the most of the time she had before one or another of the group decided to torment her again. It was the other woman who looked at Emma next; Emma had heard one of the others call her Joanne. "Slave," she called. "Yes, miss?" "Do you like getting fucked in the arse?" Please, anything but that, Emma thought. "Yes miss," she said. "Excellent. Come here." Emma approached, wondering what on earth Joanne was planning to fuck her with. "Have you eaten pussy before, slave?" "No, miss." "Then I think now is an excellent time to start, don't you?" "Yes, miss." "Take off your shoes." Emma did so, thoroughly confused now. "You're going to eat my pussy now," Joanne said. "And while you do so you will fuck yourself in the arse with the heel of your shoe." "Yes, miss." Emma's heart sank at the thought, and realised that the whole group was now sitting back to watch the entertainment. "You will stop eating my pussy only when I pull your face away." She pulled up her skirt and presented her cunt to Emma. Remembering the instructions she had been given earlier, Emma looked up at Joanne. "Thank you, miss, for letting me touch your vagina." They all laughed at that. Emma bent down and kissed each of Joanne's feet, and then stared at the woman's cunt. "Thank you, miss." They laughed again. Emma found Joanne's clit and darted her tongue over it quickly and repeatedly. At the same time she eased the heel of her shoe into her arsehole and winced. "You can fuck yourself harder than that," someone said roughly, pushed the shoe deeper into her arse. Trying to avoid further punishment, Emma became a little rougher with herself, moving the heel faster in and out of her arsehole. She ran her tongue over Joanne's clit again and again, trying to make the woman come as soon as possible so that she could end her ordeal. She plunged her tongue into Joanne, finding a rhythm between the movements of her tongue and the shoe. The other woman moaned and pulled her head closer. Over and over again Emma drove her tongue into Joanne's cunt and the shoe into her own arsehole; until finally the woman moaned her loudest yet and pushed Emma's face deep into her cunt, drenching her with come that dripped down her chest. Emma expected Joanne to let her go, but still the woman held her there. "I didn't tell you to stop, whore." Emma felt desperate. She had assumed that she would be allowed to stop if she made Joanne come. Now there was no end in sight. Her tongue was aching, her arse hurt, and she just wanted to fall asleep. For what felt like hours she was forced to lap at Joanne's cunt; driving the heel relentlessly into her arsehole; and she was exhausted when Joanne finally pulled on her hair sharply and pushed her head back. Her face was dripping with Joanne's come, but she didn't dare wipe it off. James and William had been easy on her since she arrived, leaving the others to play with her, and for that she wanted to show her gratitude. She knew how much worse things could be if they decided to join in. She wanted to make them proud of her, she realised with some concern. Was she already becoming the thing they wanted her to be? She forced her mind to be still, and stood in front of Joanne waiting to be dismissed, the come still sticky on her face. After a minute, Joanne looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "What are you still standing there for, whore? I don't want to look at you." Shortly after that, the party ordered Chinese food and Emma's mouth began to water. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime and the excess of the day, as well as the alcohol she had drunk in the pub, had made her hungry and thirsty. One of the men roughly pushed Emma into the middle of the room and back onto her hands and knees. They spread a towel over her back and rested the cartons on her while they ate. She had to be incredibly still to avoid the cartons from spilling; she dreaded to think what they might do to her if she let that happen. Emma hated Chinese food, but she would have given anything for a plate of it at that point. They chatted on and ignored her, and when they were all finished, William asked Daniel for a bowl. The host cheerfully got one from the kitchen and handed it to his friend. Emma knew what was coming, but at that moment she didn't care. Yes, she would happily eat slops from a bowl on the floor in front of a crowd of mocking strangers, if it meant she got something to eat. But William didn't tip any food into the bowl. She looked at it longingly, but he shook his head with a smile. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked her kindly. "Yes please, master." "Well, what do we do?" He wanted her to beg. Fine, she would beg like a dog if that's what it took. She sat up on her knees, keeping her arms behind her back, and whined softly. They laughed delightedly at that. William nodded and tipped a small amount of food into the bowl. Emma made to crawl for it but James put out his hand. "No. Stay. Leave." She kept her position, and waited. She whined again, but William was having none of it. "You have to earn your supper, little dog. Speak." They hadn't done this with her, but she had no doubt as to what they wanted her to do. Fighting the rising humiliation, Emma opened her mouth and barked like a dog. They all laughed again. "Can she roll over and play dead, too?" William tipped a little more food into her bowl. "Roll over, bitch. Roll over." Emma reluctantly went onto all fours and rolled over onto her back and onto all fours again. "Good dog," said William, patting her head. "Play dead." Emma rolled onto her back, arms and legs hung in the air. "Sit." She rolled back over and sat back on her heels. "Lie down." She lay on her forearms with her face in the carpet. She could smell the food and her stomach ached with hunger. William tipped the remaining leftovers into the bowl, and patted her arse lightly. She took that as the signal that she was allowed to move, and crawled eagerly over to the bowl. It was filled with bits of chicken, pork, noodles, and other food, with a liberal amount of various sauces poured on top. William knew that she didn't like Chinese food, and was obviously making the most of it, mixing the flavours so that no-one would want to eat it, let alone her. Without hesitation, Emma plunged her face into the bowl and slurped up as much as she could. It was cold and some of it had been half-chewed and spat back out, but she swallowed it all down. The bowl was deeper than the dog bowl, and she had to get her face right inside to get the dregs at the bottom. Worse still, every time she buried her face in the mess, sauce and bits of food splashed out and onto Daniel's carpet. The lino in James and William's kitchen was bad enough, but a carpet had to be worse. How would she ever get it clean? When she finally sat back up her face was a mess, now streaked in Chinese food as well as Joanne's come, and the floor around the bowl was covered. James picked the bowl up, shaking his head, and looked over at Daniel apologetically. "I'm so sorry about what she's done to your floor, Dan. She's not exactly a neat eater." Dan shrugged, ginning slightly. "Don't blame yourself; you can't help her disgusting manners. She'll just have to make up for it later." The way he said that sent shivers down Emma's spine, and she wondered with trepidation what he might have planned. "For now, you can start by cleaning that mess up." Dutifully, Emma lowered her head to the carpet. She tried to dab at the sauces with the tip of her tongue, but she soon realised that wasn't going to work like it did on the smooth lino back at James and William's house. Feeling miserable and humiliated, Emma stuck her tongue out the whole way, like Lisa had made her do earlier, and dragged her mouth across the fibres. Over and over again she licked at the carpet, her mouth becoming drier with each stroke. She couldn't even see how much longer she had to go, because the carpet was dark and it was difficult to see what was from her dinner and what had been there before. She had no choice but to keep lapping until they were satisfied, and more than once she tasted something that definitely wasn't Chinese food. Finally they let her up, putting a bowl of water in the corner for her, and ignored her. It was a relief to have something to lessen the dry, unpleasant taste in her mouth, and she almost felt grateful for the drink. She felt sickened by her own malleability. Not long after that, the party started to break up. Emma was sent to get each person's coat when they left, and they all wanted something from her before they finally left. Lisa, who seemed to have it in for her, made her crawl naked to the gate and hold it open with her mouth while Lisa walked through it. Emma had been praying that no-one walked past and saw her. At last it was just William, James and Daniel left, and William stood up. "We should be making a move too. I'm knackered." Emma wondered how he could be tired when he had done so little all day, but knew better than to show her thoughts in her expression. They said their goodbyes, and James threw Emma's clothes at her. "Put these on, you look terrible. And you're going to have to leave your shoes here. They stink of your fucking arsehole so we've thrown them out." He clipped the lead to her collar and led her out into the waiting taxi. It wasn't long before they pulled up at James and William's house, and Emma found herself longing for her cage. She just wanted somewhere to lie down, however uncomfortable. But she wasn't going to be allowed to just yet. They sank into the sofa and talked about how nice it was to be home at last, while she stood before them and waited. Then they had her describe parts of the night to them in detail, every time asking her if she had enjoyed it, and every time expecting her to say yes. It was like she was living through it all a second time, and hearing her own voice describing the humiliation and degradation she had suffered through was almost worse than experiencing it. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 03 Finally, they let her stop. "You were very good today," William said kindly. To her surprise, it made her feel slightly better to hear the praise. "You obeyed orders and you didn't show us up. As a reward, you will sleep in a bed tonight." Emma felt like crying in relief. She was going to sleep in a real bed, with sheets and a soft mattress. She would finally be able to rest her aching body. James took hold of her lead and she padded up the stairs behind him. When they got into the hall, he passed the lead to William and disappeared into his bedroom. Emma waited patiently to be taken into the spare room, but her heart began to sink when William led her in the direction of his own bedroom. He pushed open the door, and pulled on Emma's lead. She obediently followed him inside. She could hear him moving around, but didn't dare look up at what he was doing. She just hoped that the night was coming to an end soon; that he didn't have much more in store for her. William had moved close to her; she could feel his breath on her skin. "Look at me, bitch." She flicked her eyes up, and found herself almost nose to nose with him. "Did you enjoy yourself this evening?" "Yes, master." She wanted to close her eyes but she couldn't. Her gaze was locked onto his and she couldn't bring herself to disobey him and look away. He smiled softly. "Of course you did. I bet you loved having all those eyes on you, didn't you?" "Yes, master." "Did it feel good to be doing things that you knew were so wrong?" "Yes, master." "Is that how it felt when you were fucking that man from the club?" Emma cringed and flicked her eyes away from William's. They would never let her forget her infidelity, would they? William gripped her face hard and the message was clear. She looked back into his eyes. "Answer the question," he said quietly. "Yes, master." "Did you enjoy having his cock inside you? Did you like the fact that it was forbidden?" "Yes, master." Why was he doing this? He must know that she regretted what she had done; why else would she have agreed to take part in this humiliating spectacle? "Did you kiss him?" Emma flushed and fought the urge to look away. Should she be honest? Yes; he would know if she lied to him and then he'd punish her further. "Yes, master." "Show me how you kissed him." Emma hesitated. She was still looking into his eyes; his face was almost touching hers. Surely he didn't mean what she thought he meant? He tilted his head slightly, just enough to make sure his meaning was clear. "But keep your eyes open," he whispered. "I want you to look at me while you do it." Eyes open, Emma tilted her head and braced herself for the moment when their mouths met. His lips were softer than she had been expecting. He parted her lips expertly with the tip of his tongue, and gently pushed into her mouth. His eyes were open too, locked onto hers, and they looked almost tender. Emma relaxed in his embrace and felt confused. How could she enjoy kissing a man she had always hated; a man who was her boyfriend's best friend; a man who had spent the past two days tormenting her? Finally he pulled away and stared at her. "Answer me honestly now," he said. "Were you thinking of James when you kissed that man?" Emma flushed. "No, master." "Were you thinking of James a moment ago, when you kissed me?" Quietly, Emma replied, "no master." William sneered at her. "You'll never be faithful to him, will you?" Emma's eyes widened. She wanted to protest, and he knew it. "How can you kiss me, knowing that James is in the room next door? Why don't you think of him when I make you kiss me?" Emma couldn't answer him. "You're still a cheating little whore, and I think you always will be." Emma didn't know what to say. For the first time, she started to doubt herself. She had come here to prove that she loved James; that she was sorry for cheating on him; and yet she had allowed William to touch her, hadn't she? She had eaten out Joanne's pussy, hadn't she? For the first time, she wondered if they were just telling the truth when they called her a bitch, a whore, a slut. William's harsh voice broke into her reverie. "What are you?" "I'm a cheating little whore, master," Emma replied, and part of her believed it. "Do you want to make love to me?" Her mind protested his phrasing; the thought of doing something so intimate with William revolted her. But she had no choice but to agree. "Yes, master." "Come to bed, then." William unclipped her lead and pushed her in the direction of the bed. She lay down, and he undressed and clambered on top of her. His weight pressed down on her and made her uncomfortable, but she didn't complain. William's fingers quickly found her clit and started rubbing it. Her body responded to his touch instantly, and she gasped and closed her eyes. He twisted her clit roughly and her eyes flew open again. He expected her to keep her eyes open at all times, of course. He wanted her to know at all times who was fucking her; he didn't want her to close her eyes and imagine it was James. He began flicking his thumb over her clit and she felt herself getting wet. With his other hand he gently stroked her hair and face, and somehow this felt like the worst intrusion she had suffered yet. She could barely cope with him being so tender; it felt like a betrayal. Yet still her body responded to his touch. Her skin tingled and her legs opened wider, willing him to enter her. He moved her hand down to his cock and made her rub it slowly while he slid three fingers inside her wet and waiting pussy. When he was hard enough he removed his fingers and slipped them into Emma's mouth and she sucked hard on them as he pushed his cock inside her. She let out a treacherous moan, and William smiled. He moved slowly inside her, easing his cock in and out of her torturously slowly. He brought her to the brink of orgasm over and over again, each time stopping before she came, never allowing her release. She said nothing but her eyes pleaded with him to just do it; to let her come. He laughed softly. "Not until you beg for it, bitch." Emma didn't need telling twice. "Please master, please make me come. I'll die if you don't let me come, master," she moaned breathlessly. He grinned and shook his head, slowing down even more, until the movement was so slow she thought she would be on the edge of orgasm forever. "Please," she begged, "please fuck me harder." William laughed and sped up his movement, thrusting inside her, and brought one hand down to tease her clit while he fucked her. Emma could feel the pressure building up inside her, and finally she came, moaning and clawing at his back, pulling him deeper inside her. At the same time she could feel his orgasm; could feel his cock spurting hot come into her pussy. He pulled out of her and she was too exhausted to do anything by lie on her back panting. He sat up and stared down at her heaving chest, her flushed cheeks. "You'll always be a cheating little whore," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. Emma, still wet from his orgasm and her own, thought that he was right. Why else would she have pleaded with him to fuck her? Why else would she have come with him? "Yes master," she agreed meekly. "Get up; I don't want you lying next to me. You can sleep curled up at the foot of the bed like the bitch that you are." Relieved that the day was finally over, Emma did as she was told. Her limbs were aching and she silently thanked her masters for not making her sleep in the cage. Despite the full and humiliating day, she fell asleep almost immediately. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 04 Emma woke the next morning, and went tiredly through the morning routine. Downstairs she cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, and obediently laid the table for two. When the door to the kitchen opened at exactly half past nine, she could hear only one pair of footsteps. "William's still sleeping," James said lightly. "You must have tired him out last night." Emma said nothing, and heard him start to eat the meal she had prepared. "Why don't you tell me all about it?" Emma's heart sank. She didn't know if she could bear to talk to James about what she had done last night. It still felt like a huge betrayal. "Come on, tell me what the two of you did. Don't leave any details out; I'll know if you do." And so Emma began, telling James how she had kissed William and then how she had let him fuck her. She told him that she had begged for more, and that finally they had come together. Throughout the story, James was silent. "That's all, master," she said when she had finished. "Well, you certainly had a fun-filled evening," he said mockingly. "I wonder if you would like to sleep with William again tonight." Emma said nothing, and prayed that they would let her sleep in her cage that evening. Just a few short days ago she would never have believed that she would be hoping for that awful cage, but they'd somehow managed to find something worse. Shortly after, William came down, and the two men began comparing notes on what it was like to fuck Emma. She flushed as she heard them talk about her as though she was nothing but a sex-object; to hear her body described in vivid detail. They even talked about the noises she made when she came. They went through the process of feeding her, and then let her outside to relieve herself. "Make sure you make the most of this, bitch, because you won't be allowed out again until after lunch," James said. They told her to get down on all fours between their armchairs, and rested an ashtray on her back. All morning they watched TV and chatted as though she wasn't even there, and Emma was left alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help dwelling on what had happened to her since she had arrived at their house. It had been two days since she had last heard her name spoken aloud; two days since she had been allowed to make her own choices; two days since she had eaten at a table and used cutlery. Had it really only been two days? She had almost an entire month to go, and she couldn't think what else they might have in store for her. She had shown her pussy to a group of drunken men in a pub; fucked herself in the arse with the heel of her own shoe; played fetch; and begged for treats like a dog. And she had allowed herself to be fucked by her boyfriend's best friend. She flushed when she thought about that. What else could they possibly do to humiliate and degrade her? After lunch, they played lucky dip again. Emma picked out a cucumber and they made her fuck herself with it, and then deep-throat it when it was covered in her cum. Finally they made her cut it into slices and insert each slice into her pussy before she ate it. They laughed the whole time, as though they couldn't believe the depths to which she would sink on their orders. When she was finished, they took her into the dining room and she prayed they weren't going to punish her again. She had done everything they had asked of her, so surely they wouldn't beat her? They didn't beat her. William opened a box and pulled out a large butt-plug and showed it to her while James unclipped her lead. William pushed the butt-plug into her mouth and she knew to suck on it so it would be lubricated. He handed it to James, who pushed it roughly into her arse. It was bigger than the one they had used yesterday, and again her arsehole felt like it was on fire. William pulled out a vibrator and pushed it deep into her pussy, and turned it on. Both her holes were filled, and the vibrator was buzzing at her clit as well. She felt herself getting wet instantly. "We're leaving you here on your own for a while," James said as he cuffed her wrists behind her back. "We didn't want you to get bored, so you've got these toys to keep you occupied." William fastened her ankles to hooks in the floor, keeping her legs spread wide, and then tied her wrist-cuffs to a hook in the wall. She was locked in tight and unable to move. "We don't want to have you with us all the time, you see. We've got better things to do and we have no use for you right now." They left her alone in the dining room and the message was clear. She wasn't important enough to bother with unless they wanted her for something. For hours they left her, until her legs and shoulders ached, and her arsehole and pussy throbbed with the constant, unrelenting stimulation. She had come over and over again, and her juices were running down her thighs and pooling on the floor beneath her. She couldn't think because the orgasms had taken over, and when James finally came back she was almost passed out. When James pulled the butt-plug and vibrator roughly from her holes, her body protested violently. Her arsehole was gaping and she was desperate for something to fill her pussy. She moaned lightly, and James laughed. "You'll have to cope with nothing inside you right now. You've got cleaning to do." He released her from her cuffs and pushed her onto the ground, holding her face in her own cum. She obediently put out her tongue and licked up the mess she had made on the floor. When it was clean, James pulled her back to her feet and pushed her towards the door. "William wants you for something. He's in his bedroom." Emma knocked nervously on William's door. He was dressed in a tracksuit, and he was damp. He looked up when she came in and smiled. "Good, you're here. I've decided to take up running, but I'm not exactly fit. I'm dripping with sweat. Clean me up, will you?" He pulled his t-shirt off and Emma hesitated. She wasn't sure what he meant for her to do. Sighing impatiently, he pulled her towards him. "You're not a fool, are you? Lick me clean, bitch." Her mouth was already full of the taste of her own cum, and now it mingled with the salty flavour of William's sweat. His skin felt clammy and horrible, and Emma felt completely shamed as she licked his chest and stomach. He lifted his arms and she moved up to lick underneath them, burying her nose in his underarm hair. She felt sickened by his taste and smell, and when he pulled down his trousers and boxer-shorts she had to fight not to pull away. He pushed her down and held her face in his arse-crack and she licked furiously, trying to ignore the taste of his shit. She moved down to his balls, and then his cock. Before he got hard, though, he pushed her head away and sat down. "Do my feet, and then you can go downstairs." She tentatively began to lick his feet, and he sighed in relaxation. "That's it, whore. Make sure you get right in between the toes; that's where I get really filthy." Finally she was allowed to go. Her nose and mouth were full of the taste of his body, and she prayed she wouldn't be asked to do that again. They didn't give her anything to take the taste away, and when James pushed her into her cage that night, she could still sense William in her mouth. Yet she couldn't help but be relieved to be crawling into the hard, metal cage. After the excesses of the day before, she couldn't believe that she wasn't going to be forced to do anything worse. Again, she fell asleep instantly. The days passed slowly, and each one brought more degradation and humiliation. Occasionally they would have other people over, and those days would be the worst, as though they wanted to prove just how demeaning they could be. She would never get used to eating off the floor and doing her business outside, and she would never get used to being called bitch and whore. But she did grow to expect it. She wasn't surprised by anything they did to her anymore. Slowly but surely she was becoming what they wanted her to be: an object to be treated with disdain and contempt. She lost count of the number of days she had been their slave. She could have been there months or just a couple of weeks, for all she knew. On occasion they found reason to punish her, and she was always expected to thank them for it. William didn't fuck her again like he had that first time, but he sometimes told her to get down on her hands and knees and would fuck her that way. When he fucked her she wasn't allowed to moan or talk; she had to bark like a dog. And if she didn't bark enough, or in the way he wanted, he would pull out and pound her arsehole until he was satisfied. He barely ever let her orgasm, and he always made her tell him how much she enjoyed it when he was done. She had to clean him off afterwards, as well, even when he'd fucked her in the arse. James never fucked her, and neither did any of the guests, although they were certainly allowed to anything else they wanted with her. One evening, she was told to put on the outfit laid out in her cage, because they were going out. Although people had come to the house, they hadn't taken her out since the night they visited the pub and Daniel's house. With a little trepidation, Emma went upstairs. The skirt they had provided for her this time was even shorter than before: looking down she could clearly see her pussy-lips peeking out from the bottom, and she could feel that her arsehole was only just covered. The top was nothing more than a piece of fabric that barely covered her nipples. A pair of incredibly high heels completed the outfit. Last time she had looked like a common prostitute, now she looked like a crack-whore. She tottered down the stairs to where James and William were waiting for her. "We won't be walking with you," James told her. "Follow us, but don't get too close. We don't want to be seen with a fucking slut like you." "If anyone talks to you, smile and be polite; flirty, even. Thank people when they talk to you. If someone wants to touch you, you're to let them. Same answers as the night at the pub. Do you understand?" Emma blushed, but nodded. They stepped outside and Emma made sure she stayed a little distance from James and William. She was praying that no-one would approach her. The first man that passed her looked her up and down, but far from being interested, he looked disgusted. "Put some clothes on, you fucking slag." "Thank you," she muttered quietly. The next person that passed was equally derogatory. "Do you really think you look sexy dressed like that? You look like a cow on the way to a meat-market." On and on it went. Occasionally, a man would pass and make a suggestive comment, but on the whole men and women alike felt the need to tell her how ridiculous or sordid she looked, and every time she thanked them they would just look even more repulsed by her. Then a man stepped in front of her and she had to stop. He was wearing a filthy, ragged rain-coat and he stank of alcohol. "Alright, darling?" Emma managed a smile, and nodded. "Yes, thanks." "Why have you got your pussy showing?" Cringing inside, Emma somehow kept smiling. "It turns me on to let people see my cunt," she said, blushing. The tramp's eyes grew wide, and he grinned. "You should watch your mouth," he said lecherously. "A filthy mouth like that could get you into trouble, don't you think?" "Yes. I'm sorry." "Not to worry. Tell me something, girlie." He leaned in close to her and his ripe scent filled Emma's nostrils. He must have gone months without a shower. "Does it turn you on to let people touch you, as well?" Please, anything but this, Emma thought. "Yes," she said with a smile, feeling wretched inside. The old man's smile widened, and Emma saw that he was missing several teeth. "Do you want to come with me into an alleyway?" Emma glanced up, and saw James and William lounging casually on a nearby wall, looking for all the world like they didn't even know she was there. She felt at once relieved that they were nearby, and miserable that they clearly expected her to do whatever the tramp wanted. She forced her features into a smile. "Yes, thank you." He rubbed his hands together, looking gleeful, and turned into an alleyway opposite. Emma shot a desperate look at her masters, and managed to catch William's eye. He just raised an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the alleyway. She would have to go with the tramp. "Are you coming, darling?" She followed the man, who gently pushed her against the wall. He leaned against her, and Emma felt sick. "Do you want me to stick a finger inside you?" Emma had to work hard not to flinch away from his breath. "Yes, please." "Are you sure?" He grinned again. "I don't wash my hands, you know. Not even when I take a piss or shit, and I've been rummaging through bins all day." He held them up to show her, and Emma saw that they were grimy with months of dirt. "Would it really turn you on to have my fingers fucking you?" "Yes." The tramp's eyes grew suspicious. "You're not a hooker, are you? I'm not going to pay." Emma shook her head. "I'm not a prostitute." He broke into his widest smile yet; it was practically a leer. "Then you're just filthy, aren't you?" "Yes." Without further conversation, he pushed a grubby finger deep into her cunt. "Do you like that? Tell me how much you like it." "I love it. It turns me on." Emma had never felt less sexy in her life, but she was obviously putting on a good enough show for the tramp, because he pushed another finger inside her. "Do you like that, bitch?" "Yes," she moaned. She hated it. She wanted to run for the hills. But she knew William and James would be waiting. He started thrusting his two fingers in and out of her, rubbing her pussy painfully because he hadn't bothered to stimulate her first. "Shall I put another finger in?" Emma nodded, and he withdrew his hand, before ramming three fingers roughly inside her. "Yeah, you fucking love that, don't you. You fucking love that." He seemed completely blind to the fact that Emma wasn't wet, wasn't moaning, and wasn't enjoying herself. He just kept shoving his fingers inside her. "Do you want another one? You want another one, don't you? Do you want my whole fist inside you?" Emma had no choice but to say yes. He chuckled, and forced his whole fist into her pussy. She groaned at the intrusion, but the tramp took that as proof that she liked it. He wriggled his fist inside her, and she just closed her eyes and prayed it would be over soon. Finally he pulled out of her and grinned. He looked at her, clearly under the impression that he had done her a great favour. "Thank you," she said, when it became apparent he was waiting for her to speak. He leered at her. "You're welcome, darling. It's not often I get to touch up something as pretty as you." He leaned in even closer as a thought struck him. "I don't suppose you want to touch me, do you?" Barely able to believe what she was letting herself do, Emma nodded faintly. "Yes, if you'd like that." His eyes lit up, and he pressed up against her to whisper in her ear. This close, the smell was almost overpowering. "Would you like to taste me as well?" "Yes," Emma whispered. He untied the rope holding up his trousers and let them drop to the floor, displaying the dirtiest penis Emma had ever seen. Slowly, she went to her knees and stared at the tramp's already-hard cock. Her training kicked in and, unwillingly, she looked up at the tramp. "Thank you for letting me touch your penis." He leered at her, and she bent down to kiss each of his disgusting, shit-stained shoes. Rising back up to look at his penis, she thanked it and then, trying to hold her breath, she leant in towards it. Maybe she'd be able to do this without really tasting him, she thought. Surely she'd be able to get him off with her hands, with her mouth barely touching him? She could even move away before he came. Tentatively, she wrapped her lips around the bulging head of his penis. But as soon as her mouth was on him, the dirty old man twisted her hair in his fingers and thrust his cock down her throat. He pushed her head into his groin, and her nose was buried in his pubic hair. He smelt like stale piss and refuse, and Emma wanted to gag. Over and over again he pushed himself into her mouth, and it was impossible to avoid touching and tasting him with her tongue. "That's right," he panted. "Oh yeah, that's so good. Lick me, baby. Lick me all over. Get right under the foreskin like a good girl." Some part of her knew that William and James would never know if she ignored his command, but she was so used to following orders by now that she just did as he asked. If he never washed his hands, Emma thought, he washed his penis even less frequently. It wasn't just the taste: as she ran her tongue over the head of his cock she could actually feel grit and dirt coming off and dissolving on her tongue. At last she felt him stiffen, and he grabbed her head again to pull her close as he came, shooting semen down her throat. The salty taste mingled with something else, and she realised, to her horror, that he was pissing. In his drunk-addled mind he didn't seem to notice and he held her there, clamped to his groin, while he emptied his bladder into her mouth. She tried not to swallow, but he was holding her too tight and she had no other choice. There seemed to be no end to it, and Emma felt herself struggling to breathe as she gulped down the stream of hot urine. When he finally pulled out of her mouth, his cock was dripping slightly. He pulled on her hair slightly with one hand; an accident as he leant against the wall to steady himself. The action caused her to tilt her head up towards him and, to make the degradation complete, a last dribble of piss came out and hit her on the face. He let go of her hair then, and turned to lean properly on the wall. He was grinning like an idiot. "You're one hot girl," he told her. He seemed to think he was paying her a compliment. "I've never come that long before, I can tell you." Emma didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet. "Oh shit," he said suddenly. "I didn't piss on you, did I?" Flushing, Emma nodded. "And in my mouth, when you were coming," she said quietly. The tramp's eyes went wide. "Shit, I didn't realise. Why didn't you stop me?" Again, James and William's training came to the fore. She shook her head and managed to drag a smile onto her face. "Because I liked it," she told him. "Thank you." His eyes went even wider at that while his mind processed the information, and then he chuckled indulgently. "You're a right little dirty whore, ain't you?" Emma nodded and smiled, feeling sick with herself. "Yes, I am." Still chuckling to himself, he ruffled her hair. "Well, I suppose you've got to be getting somewhere, have you? Why else would you be dressed up like that? I would imagine it's not just to attract fine gentlemen like me," he said. He seemed to think she was having a good time. She managed a weak smile, and said, "I should be getting on, actually." She was relieved he had given her a way to get out at last. She had been starting to worry he wouldn't dismiss her at all, and she wouldn't have put it past William and James to make her stay until he did. He nodded genially. "Don't let me keep you. You get on your way." She practically ran from the alleyway, to where James and William were stood. They were both laughing gleefully. "Well, we do have to be getting somewhere, as the fine gentleman said," William said with a grin. "Let's go." Emma made to pull down the skirt, which had ridden up when she was kneeling in front of the tramp, and James slapped her hand away. "Did we say you could alter your clothing in any way?" Flushing deeply, Emma shook her head. "No, master." But her skirt was practically round her waist, she thought desperately. She was showing everything to the world, and it would look like that was what she wanted if she just walked down the road without sorting it out. Her hand twitched once, and William grabbed her wrist tightly. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 04 "Leave it," he told her in a low voice that threatened all sorts of punishment if she didn't obey. He let go of her and they moved away, Emma following them at a short distance again. The looks she got were even worse now, and her skirt rode even higher with every step she took. To make things worse, she could taste the tramp in her mouth and she could feel the track of urine drying on her face. She hadn't dared to wipe it away. Finally they stopped outside a club that looked closed, and waited for Emma to catch up with them. "How do you feel?" James asked cheerfully. "Fine master," Emma said, feeling mortified. "I see not too many people were impressed by you. I'm not surprised; you look like a street-walker. You got the attention of the tramp, at least." He looked over at William. "I wish we'd known earlier that she had a taste for piss," he said casually, making William grin. "All this time we've been using a normal loo and we had a willing toilet slave right in front of us." Emma shivered at the implication, and James smiled. "Don't worry; we've got something else for you to do right now. There'll be lots of people in here who'll appreciate both your looks and your talents. We're going in now. Wait out here until someone comes to get you." William pushed the door open and the descended into the club. Emma worked hard to leave her skirt as it was, and hoped that no-one would walk past. Finally, the door opened, and she could hear a male voice that she didn't recognise coming through a PA system. "Gentlemen, we are proud to present the whore of the evening." Emma entered and stumbled down the stairs awkwardly in her heels. She tried to look around, but someone was shining a spot-light on her, and she couldn't see a thing. When she finally reached the bottom, she saw that the club wasn't too crowded, and that the patrons were exclusively men. They had left an aisle for her to walk down, and the aisle led to a raised platform. A strange contraption was hanging from the ceiling. Emma could feel their hungry eyes on her as she passed and climbed up onto the platform. She stood and waited for instructions, while the men stared at her. "Now before we get started, let's take a moment to remember the rules," the same male voice said. "Only five gentlemen at a time allowed: two in each hole and one in the mouth. Once you've picked your spot you can't change your mind, so choose carefully. If you want another go, feel free to get back in line. If you try to jump the queue you'll be ejected from the club. No violence: this whore belongs to someone and we don't want to send her back damaged. The only exception to this rule is that if she's sucking you off and you think she's not putting her all into it, you can slap her face or tits. Just keep in mind that excessive slapping will get you put to the back of the line. But her owners have told us that you can say what you like to her no matter how vicious or sick, so don't feel too bad that you can't hit her. You can come where you like. And let's keep the line moving: when you've finished up, move away. Do we understand the rules, gentlemen?" There was a collective roar in the affirmative. Emma had turned pale. She tried to count the number of men there, but what had seemed to be a relatively small crowd when she arrived had grown in her mind since the revelation that they would all be fucking her. They would take all night, surely? Emma had not been fucked by anyone but William since she had been made a slave, and now she was expected to take two men in her pussy and two men in her arse. She waited for the next moment with dread. "I'm glad to hear it. Undress yourself, whore, and get ready to fuck." Wretchedly, Emma pulled off her top to cheers, and unzipped her skirt. She looked about for guidance, and a man appeared at the side of the stage. He was unshaven and his hands were filthy. He pulled her towards the contraption and she realised it was to hold her in a convenient position for the men to fuck her. A belt was attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling, and he fastened it around her waist, padlocking it in place. Then he lifted her leg up and hooked it over a padded wooden bench so it was hanging off the floor, and locked it in place on the bench. He did the same with her other leg, so that she was suspended off the floor in a sitting position with her legs spread wide, her weight supported equally by the benches and the belt. Finally, he cuffed her wrists to hooks on either side of the belt. She was locked in and unable to move anything but her head. The man moved away and into the shadows. "OK gentlemen, it looks like she's ready. Let's have the first five up on stage." The cheering grew louder, and five men clambered up onto the platform. Emma caught a glimpse of a cock bigger than she had ever seen before, and to her horror the man was moving towards her arsehole. Without ceremony, he thrust himself deep into her arse and she clenched her teeth to avoid crying out. Within minutes, another cock had joined it, and her arsehole felt painfully stretched. It had never been this bad before; not even with the butt-plugs. At least those had been lubricated. A fat man leered at her and pushed his cock into her pussy, alongside a skinny man who looked eager and lecherous. She was in agony, with the men pounding her in unison. No-one had bothered to stimulate her first, and she wasn't even slightly wet. "Let's see if you're worth the entrance fee then, whore." Emma looked towards the man that had spoken and saw a huge cock in front of her face. She opened her mouth obediently, and he drove his cock straight down her throat. It hit her hard and she coughed and spluttered. She was not used to deep-throating, and she knew she had to learn quickly or suffocate. The man withdrew and slapped her hard across the face bringing tears of pain to her eyes. "Do better, bitch," he commanded. He drove into her again, and this time she managed to swallow his length. Anxiously she moved her head back and forth, trying to find a rhythm with the cocks that were hammering at her arsehole and pussy. She sucked and licked at his penis, trying to make him come as quickly as possible so she could move onto the next one. The skinny man moaned once and came deep inside her cunt, filling her with come. He withdrew and wiped his cock clean on her leg, walking off without another word. He had barely taken two steps away when another man took his place. Emma was almost grateful that the man had come inside her: it meant that she had something that would do as lubrication. The man she was sucking off slapped her hard again, and she tried to focus on pleasuring him. One of the other men came, and he walked around to look at her. "I do love a tight arsehole," he said with a smirk. "It's a pity I didn't get one. You could fit a train in that gaping hole." He walked away, and another man quickly came up and entered her arse. There seemed to be an infinite number of men waiting, each one ready to take over as soon as another shot his load. Emma was covered in come: it was dripping from both holes, she had it in her hair and up her nose, all over her tits and stomach, and she must have swallowed a gallon already. There was no let-up from the pounding. Most of them just walked away when they were done, but some wanted to talk to her; wanted to tell her how good or bad they thought she was; wanted to let her know how filthy she was. Emma felt as though she was going to pass out from exhaustion, yet she had to stay alert or she would get a hard slap from a man who thought she wasn't trying hard enough to suck his dick. Both her holes felt stretched beyond belief, and her jaw and tongue were aching. She was even too tired to feel humiliated, becoming as robotic in her movements as she could manage. Eventually, the men started to come round again. They had obviously waited in line for a second go, and Emma hoped that meant her ordeal was almost over. But she was wrong. The second time around the men took longer to come, and they seemed to blame her for it, punishing her by ramming into her even harder. The man who had been the first to push into her arse-hole approached with a nasty grin. "Let's see if your mouth's any better than your fucking arse, bitch." She opened her mouth obediently, and she recoiled at the taste on his cock. He smiled even more at that. "I bet you love the taste of your own shit in your mouth don't you, you filthy fucking whore?" On and on it went, some of the men even coming back for a third go. Finally, there was less of them; only one in her arsehole and one in her cunt, or just one in her mouth. After what felt like hours, the onslaught finally stopped, and Emma was left alone, exhausted and soaked in come. The same man who had strapped her in came to release her from the contraption, grinning. "I'll bet you enjoyed that, didn't you?" Emma didn't answer. She was unsteady on her feet and put a hand out to one of the benches to steady herself. That, too, was slick with come, and Emma almost slipped. The man laughed loudly and walked away. William and James had been standing at the back of the club, and now came forwards. A smartly-dressed man came to greet them, smiling widely. "Thank you so much for bringing the whore to our little club. I trust it was everything you expected?" James shook his hand warmly and nodded. "We couldn't have hoped for anything better. Thank you for having us." "Not at all, don't mention it. And here's a cheque for your share of the takings. We did quite well tonight. Most of the men got back in line for a second go, and that doesn't always happen." They continued to make small talk that Emma barely listened to, and eventually James came up and clipped the lead onto her collar. "Come on whore, we're leaving." She followed him up the stairs of the club, and it was only when the cold air hit her that she realised she was still naked. Neither James nor William seemed to care, and Emma knew better than to mention it. It was no doubt part of the plan to make the night's indignities complete. Luckily, they met no-one coming back, and Emma longed for her cage. When they were in the living room, James told her to stand in front of them. She did so, and waited to hear what they wanted from her now. Why wouldn't they just let her sleep? "It's been almost a month," he said casually, "so your time here is almost up." "Yes, master." Emma didn't feel as relieved by that thought as she had expected. She wasn't sure how she would be able to go back now, having allowed them to do so much to her. "I want you to be honest with yourself now. I've seen you suck men off and eat women out. I've made you piss and shit in the garden and bark like a dog. I've tied you up, beaten you, happily handed you over to my friends and acquaintances to abuse as they wish, and never once told you how much you mean to me. Would you agree with all that?" "Yes master," Emma said slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "And this evening, I allowed you to be fucked by people that I had never met before, in return for money. If you are truly honest with yourself, do you really believe that we could be a couple again?" Emma was silent for a moment. She had entered into this thinking it would be a game just between her and James; a token to prove that she was sorry. She had expected him to make her go down on him, fetch him beers and maybe tidy up a bit before he forgave her. And then when she had seen William standing in the doorway, she had assumed that it would be just the three of them. She tried to work out why she hadn't stopped it all when it had got worse. Why hadn't she walked away at that horrible party? She must have known that she could never be James' girlfriend again; not after all that. How would she ever be able to look at him the same way? "No, I don't think we could, master," she admitted quietly. "You haven't thought it was possible for a while now, so why did you keep going?" It was a difficult question, and one that Emma couldn't answer. "I don't know, master." "I think I do. Would you like to hear what I think, bitch?" "Yes, master." "I think that deep down, somewhere, you enjoyed it. You like being treated like a piece of shit, and this was the perfect excuse. If you ever felt that what you were doing was wrong, you could just tell yourself that you were doing it for us, so that we could be together again. Do you think that might be true? Honestly, now." "No, master." Of course that wasn't true, she wanted to scream. How could they think she had enjoyed the things they had done to her? James laughed. "No? Why did you do it, then? You begged William to fuck you harder; you lapped food up from the floor like you were born to it. And you came tonight, didn't you?" Emma flushed a deep red, and looked at the floor. "Yes, master." "Yes master," James mimicked, and laughed again. "You were being fucked by men you didn't know and you came. I've seen the look you got in your eye. Yes, you've been humiliated. Yes, you feel degraded beyond belief. And it felt good, didn't it? When you were barking like a dog while William fucked you, it made the orgasm just a little bit better than usual, didn't it? I bet you were even a little bit turned on when that filthy tramp was pissing in your mouth." Emma felt confused, and didn't know what to say. It was true that she hadn't stopped them at any point; she hadn't just turned around and walked out of the house. And it was true that she had done everything they had told her to without questioning it. She couldn't deny that she had come when William had made her bark like a dog. But she was convinced that she hadn't enjoyed it. It was just a natural reaction to orgasm during sex; it had nothing to do with the humiliation. Did it? Emma's thoughts were muddled, and she couldn't answer. "He asked you a question, whore. Deep down, did you like being treated like a worthless object?" "I – I don't know, master." William stood up and ran his thumb over her clit, sending sparks of electricity through her body. "Then let me ask you an easier question," he said, still rubbing her clit. "Do you like this?" "Yes master," she replied a little breathlessly. "And another easy question. If you didn't enjoy it, why are you still standing her when James has already told you he's never going to get back with you?" For the first time that night, Emma was being touched gently. The pleasure shooting through her body was mixing her thoughts up even more, and she mumbled something about having made a promise. William laughed harshly. "That's rubbish, and you know it is. If you didn't want to stay, you would have left by now. You like being treated like this, don't you?" He stroked her clit harder, and Emma couldn't help herself. "Yes master," she moaned. William stepped away, satisfied with the answer. "We can keep going, if you want." Emma frowned at him, the unspoken question in her eyes. "It's easy. You can continue to be a slave. Would you like that?" Emma was silent, and William was back on his feet again, caressing her clit. She moaned softly. "I asked you a question. Would you like to continue to be a slave?" Again, Emma couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth. "Yes, master." William's eyes were full of satisfaction. "Would you like to be a slave for the rest of your life?" "Yes master," Emma sighed, not really aware of what she was agreeing to. "We can make that happen, if you'd like." William's voice was soft and gentle, Emma was exhausted, and the movement on her clit was soothing. "Would you like us to make it happen?" "Yes, master." "We've got a legal contract here that essentially says you belong to me. It can't be in both our names, but I'll share you with James, of course. There's a whole lot of legalese in there that would just confuse you, but all it really says is that I own you. Would you like to sign it? James will sign as the witness." He slowly eased one finger inside her and crooked it, hitting her g-spot. She struggled against the pleasure and the tiredness and tried to focus on what they were saying, and William pushed another finger into her pussy. "Would you like to sign it?" he asked again, as he slowly eased his fingers in and out of her. After the evening's onslaught, it felt wonderful to be caressed so carefully. Emma closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink under. "Would you like to sign?" William whispered, still moving his fingers inside her. "Yes," she breathed. James brought the contract over and handed Emma a pen. She signed where he showed her with barely a glance at the paper, and she missed the look that James and William shared. "Come on," William said tenderly, taking her lead. "You've had a long day. I'm sure you'd like to get up to your cage and go to sleep, wouldn't you?" "Yes, master." Earning Forgiveness Ch. 05 Emma was so tired that she slept soundly thought the night. She woke at eight and stumbled into the shower. It was then that the memory of the night's events took hold of her. She hadn't – had she? She remembered signing, and her flesh turned cold in spite of the warm water raining down on her. Maybe it was just another trick, she thought desperately; one final power game before they finally let her loose. Surely there was no legal way that one person could own another? She found no clothes laid out for her, but that wasn't unusual; they quite often liked her to walk around naked. She pulled her high-heels on and stumbled down the stairs towards the kitchen. William sat at the table, dressed smartly in a suit and tie. The contract lay on the table in front of him, and he was grinning when she walked in. "I can't believe you signed this," were his first words when she entered. "Have a seat; I want to talk to you properly." Emma was so taken-aback at being asked to sit down in a real chair that she hesitated for a moment. Then she quickly sat before he could change his mind. "What about?" she asked, and in a moment of daring she left out the customary 'master'. When he didn't berate her, she relaxed. It had just been a trick, she thought. "Emma, did no-one ever tell you? You're supposed to read a contract carefully before you sign it." She was stunned to hear her own name spoken aloud, and couldn't respond. "My favourite part is where it says I can have you arrested if you don't do as I say," he said with a sneer. "And if you think James and I are bad, you should see what a load of sex-starved bull-dykes do to you in prison." "I –" William continued as though she hadn't tried to speak. "Then there's the bit that says all your worldly belongings are mine," he said casually. "And the section which accepts that I can do pretty much anything I want to you, except kill you or cause you permanent damage; I do like that." Emma scowled at him. Overnight, she seemed to have regained her fight. It was probably her last, desperate hope. "It's not really binding," she spat out. "No?" William raised a mocking eyebrow. "Then why do you look so worried?" She had no answer, and he laughed softly. "Let's put it this way: legally binding or not, do you really think you can leave now?" He was right, of course. When she signed her name on the contract last night, she had sealed her own prison forever. She had admitted that she would belong to them forever, and she knew she wouldn't be able to find the strength to fight the hold they had over her. "Maybe not, but I'm not calling you master anymore," she said petulantly. William didn't seem at all put-out by this declaration. He shrugged, and casually flicked through the contract. "I think the best bit is at the end, though." He looked up at her and waited. She folded her arms and stared at him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking him to explain himself. He seemed quite unconcerned, though, and continued to watch her. Finally, she couldn't bear it. "What's the best bit?" He smiled smugly, and paused before answering her. "The final section gives me the right to sign ownership over to anyone that I see fit." Emma hadn't been expecting that. "What do you mean?" She heard the sound of soft, mocking laughter behind her, and she swung round to see James nonchalantly leaning in the doorway. "You didn't really think that we'd keep you once we'd broken you, did you? Quite frankly, I'm bored of you. I'm sure William feels the same way." William nodded his agreement. "You've ceased to be entertaining for us. And we can make so much money from you, now." Emma frowned. "So, what? You're going to turn me into a whore?" They both laughed at her consternation. "Of course not," James said. "Who has the energy to be a pimp?" "Well, what then?" She was getting irritated with the secrecy. Why wouldn't they just be straight with her, and tell her what they had planned? "We're going to sell you on, of course; to the highest bidder, this afternoon, at a slave auction." Emma turned pale. The thought of being William's slave for the rest of her life was horrifying, but who could say how much worse off she might end up being if she was sold to a stranger? "So, Emma, enjoy the sound of your own name one last time," William said mockingly. "Because this time tomorrow you'll be owned by someone who doesn't know what your name is, and doesn't care." "Have a good breakfast, bitch. You'll need it to keep your strength up this afternoon. We'll be back in an hour." They left her alone in the kitchen, and for the first time since she had arrived a month ago, she felt a sense of real dread settling in her stomach. She should just run, she told herself; just leave the house and never come back. But she was tired and aching, and she was naked. She'd probably be raped as soon as she walked out of the front door. And she had no idea whether William and James had really left the house; maybe they were just waiting for her to try and escape just so they could punish her. So she didn't leave. She cooked herself a large breakfast, and tried to enjoy the luxury of a hot meal eaten off an actual plate, for once. An hour later the two men reappeared in the kitchen. "I knew she'd still be here," William said with satisfaction. "She knows her fate is sealed." Emma wanted to protest. She wanted to explain why she hadn't left, but the words wouldn't come. She sat and stared at the lino sullenly. "Come on, bitch. We want to prepare you for the auction." James pulled her out of the chair and pushed her violently into the living room. He ran a hand forcefully over her pussy and fingered the rim of her arse. Despite the situation she found herself in, even the rough contact made her gasp when his palm brushed her clit. "She's done a good job," he told William. "She's completely shaved." "Good, that's one thing we don't have to worry about," said William. "Kneel down, whore." She knelt at their feet, and they sat on the sofa in front of her. "Look at us and listen hard," James ordered. She looked up. "We'll be leaving shortly. Now, you've been registered for this auction since you arrived here a month ago." Emma flushed as the full meaning of that sank in. They had planned this since the start, she realised. They must have planned last night as the way they would finally break her. She wondered dejectedly whether the tramp had been planned, or if it had just been a lucky break for them. "There's about forty slaves for sale today, give or take. You're number 36," William told her matter-of-factly. "We'll get there about half an hour before it opens to get you ready. You'll stand on a raised platform with your number printed on it. Have you been to an auction before?" "No." "But you know how they work, right?" Reluctantly, Emma nodded. "Yes. I'm not an idiot." William raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "Then you know that people typically get to inspect the exhibits before the actual auction begins. You've been entered into a catalogue, so a lot of people will have already decided if they have an interest in you or not. But they'll still want to try you out, see you in the flesh. Others won't have any idea what they want until they turn up." James seamlessly took over from his friend. "Sexual acts aren't allowed in the auction house, but people will still want to check how tight you are. Expect fingers up your arse and in your cunt as routine. It's more or less like they're feeling a cow or pig to test for firmness at a meat-market." He grinned at her, obviously enjoying himself. "We've listed a brief summary of your talents; what you've been trained in. People might ask you questions about that. Be polite and show them respect; remember that any one of those people might end up owning you, and you don't want to start off on the wrong foot." "And give good answers," William continued. "We'll be close by, watching and listening, and if you don't sell because you don't do your best, I promise you, you'll regret it. If you get into trouble and really can't answer a question, be honest about it. They'll come and ask us instead. Do you understand everything so far?" "Yes," Emma said resentfully. How could they be doing this to her? "Good. When the auction begins you'll be taken into a holding area to wait your turn. Then it's all pretty straight-forward. If you're paid for in cash or via banker's draft then I'll sign you straight over to your new owner. If I'm given a cheque, you'll be kept in escrow until the money clears." James grinned at William, his eyes bright. "I hope she's kept in escrow," he said viciously. "Don't they let all the employees have a go if that happens?" William nodded, and smiled maliciously. "After that, we'll have nothing to do with you. Understand?" "Yes." "OK, let's go." James pulled her onto her feet and attached her lead. He threw a coat over her and pulled her towards the waiting taxi. The auction house was spacious and elegant; at odds with the sight of naked, collared men and women, being guided onto their individual platforms. She wondered at the fact that such a thing could carry on in the civilised world without anyone knowing or doing anything about it. How could they keep it a secret? And how did people learn about it? William and James greeted a few of the other owners, and chatted with them while they set up. Emma wondered how they knew people already. She was the first girl they had done this to, wasn't she? And yet they had known exactly how the auction would work. And they had greeted the man at the club last night like an old friend. A horrible, creeping doubt rose inside Emma and she tried her hardest to keep it out of her mind. Shortly after they settled, the doors opened and people started to enter. They were all well-dressed and stylish; the way they carried themselves showing clearly that they knew they were far above the people they had come to inspect and possibly buy. There were women dressed in leather and carrying whips; men in suits talking on mobiles; and people everywhere were acknowledging friends and acquaintances. It was a social gathering as well as an auction, Emma realised. A large tattooed man dressed in leather approached Emma's platform. He looked coarse and unpleasant, and she prayed that he wouldn't be the one to buy her. "She's fully broken, I take it?" he asked William casually. "Of course, Jim. We wouldn't bring her any other way." He scowled doubtfully, and stepped up onto the platform, circling Emma once before stopping in front of her. "Name?" "Slave 36, sir," she answered as they had told her to. Jim nodded once in approval. "Has your arse been trained, slave?" "Sir?" Emma asked hesitantly, unsure what he meant. He sighed impatiently. "Your arse, has it been trained?" She looked at him blankly and he made his voice loud and slow, as though she was an idiot. "Have you had things stuck into your arse-hole?" Relieved just to understand him, she nodded. "Yes, sir." "What? Be specific." Emma hesitated, but managed to answer before he grew irritated again. "I've been forced to keep butt-plugs of various sizes, and other objects, in my arse for various amounts of time, sir." "Good. Let's see what you feel like then, shall we?" He reached behind and shoved a finger deep into her arsehole. She bit her lip to keep from gasping, which she knew would get her into trouble. He hooked his finger inside her and it felt uncomfortable, but she didn't let him know. He probed a little more and then withdrew. He nodded curtly at William and James and walked away without another word, wiping his finger clean with a wet-wipe which he threw into a nearby bin. Emma hoped even harder that he didn't buy her. The next person who approached them was a woman who looked as though she would have been comfortable in a city firm. She smiled at James and William, and then told Emma to crouch so she could get a better look at her cunt. Emma did so, and the woman pulled her pussy lips apart roughly, inspecting her carefully. She finally walked away without exchanging words with any of them. For hours Emma was forced to stand still while she was poked and prodded, squeezed and probed. She was asked questions about her arse, her cunt, her sexual experience, and even how good she was at cleaning. She was approached by old men in their seventies and young girls who looked barely eighteen. Some of them would have fitted in at Ascot and others wouldn't have looked out of place on a building site. The only thing that united them all was their unmistakable air of having money, and the disdain with which they treated her. One man that drew near to her seemed to be having an argument on his mobile, and when he finally came up to her he was irritated, and rough. He barked questions at her like a drill instructor, and Emma did her best to answer as best she could. She still had William's threat ringing in her ears, and she was slightly afraid of what they might do to her if she wasn't sold. "There's nothing on here about toilet training, slave. Have you eaten shit before?" The bare-faced question took her by surprise, and Emma managed a faint no. "Have you tasted shit before?" "Y – yes sir," she stammered. "Tell me about it," he ordered bluntly. "There's more than one," she began hesitantly. "Pick one." "Well –" she hesitated again, and could see him getting irritated with her. "Last night I was fucked in the arse, and then I sucked the man's cock," she said quickly, pulling out the first memory that came to mind. "He had my shit on his cock." "Did you like the taste?" Emma faltered. She thought she might get in trouble if she was honest, but she knew that the man would never believe her if she said she had enjoyed it. "Don't stand there like an idiot, answer the question. Did you like the taste of shit in your mouth?" "No, sir." He nodded in satisfaction, and Emma hoped she had given the right answer. She thought he would leave then, but he continued to interrogate her. He wanted to hear exactly how they had treated her like a dog; he wanted to hear her bark and see her beg; he wanted to know how many people she had gone down on; there seemed to be no end to it. And each time he made her describe how she had felt at the time. His eyes seemed to be boring the truth out of her, and she honestly told him that she hadn't enjoyed a moment of it. Finally, he squeezed her arse and each of her breasts as though testing their weight and firmness, and then pushed a finger into her arsehole and one into her cunt. When he was finished with her, Emma felt as though she had just been grilled by a particularly exacting school-master. He moved out of ear-shot and opened his phone again, and appeared to resume the argument. Emma was so drained by his rigorous interview that she wasn't paying attention to the next person that was moving towards her. She wasn't aware of the woman's presence until she spoke aloud. "So you're numbered and up for sale, like a piece of meat. I guess you really have learned your place, at last." Lisa was stood looking up at her with a sly smile on her face. She hadn't seen Lisa since that night at Daniel's house, when the other woman had made her lick the dirt from her shoes, and watched her fuck herself in the arse with a stiletto. Emma coloured to see her, and Lisa laughed nastily. "It's good to see you." "Yes, miss." Emma wanted to spit at her, but she knew what would happen if she showed up James and William at such an important event. She controlled herself, and kept her hatred confined to her eyes. "What do you think you're worth then, Slave 36?" Emma had no idea what to say. She couldn't even begin to imagine what the going rate was for slaves, and Lisa had certainly never seemed rich when she had seen her. "I don't know," she said. Lisa raised an eyebrow and her expression was stern. "Excuse me?" she said coldly. "I don't know, miss," she spat out. Emma knew she must be infuriating William and James with her rudeness, but she couldn't bring herself to kowtow to this woman. "You'll have to learn to keep a civil tongue in your head, if I purchase you, slave. I don't respond well to insolence. It makes me reach for my whip." Emma bit back a biting retort, and settled for a silent scowl. She was convinced that Lisa didn't have the money to buy her, and she wasn't going to indulge her now. The other woman held her gaze for a moment and her eyes were burning with cold fury. Without another word she turned on her heel and walked away. More prospective owners turned up to handle her and ask questions until, at last, it was time for the guests to move into the auction room. When the display room had emptied of buyers and only the slaves and their owners were left, James pushed Emma roughly off her platform and she stumbled. "You should pray that your impertinence doesn't cost you in there, bitch. Lisa is a very dear friend of ours and if you don't sell today, we may consider giving you to her as a gift." Without another word he dragged her into the holding room, and he and James left her in the hands of an auction house employee. The man ignored her while he cuffed her and chained her to a hook in the wall, and Emma had an opportunity to look around her. The room was made of stone, and as empty and cold as the other had been inviting. They clearly didn't care how the slaves were treated once they were out of the public eye. Emma watched and waited while the slaves were unlocked and taken through a small door to the auction room one by one. They didn't return to the holding room once they had left it, and so she couldn't guess what it was like in the auction. At last they led Slave 35 out of the room, and began unlocking Emma's cuffs. One man held her arms tightly behind her back while he waited for the sale of Slave 35 to finish, and then, in an instant, Emma was standing on another raised platform, beside the auctioneer. The bidding seemed to pass by in a moment. With harsh lights shining in her face, Emma couldn't see who was bidding for her, and she prayed that some of the more unpleasant ones had decided not to bother. When the auctioneer banged his hammer and called no more bids, Emma was escorted out of the room by yet another employee. William and James were waiting for her when the man pushed her through a door nearby, and they looked at her with indifference. "You're lucky you sold, bitch," James said coldly. "You won't see us again; we've been paid and there's a man waiting outside to claim you. I suggest you take our advice and behave very carefully with your new owner. You might find that you're not treated so lightly if you are rude or disobedient." He nodded at the security guard, who pulled Emma out into the hallway. A man was waiting there for her, and she assumed this was her new owner. Part of her was relieved not to recognise him: it meant that Lisa and the man fascinated with her arsehole had lost out, if they had even bothered to bid. He took out a lead; a shorter one than James and William had used; and attached it to her collar. Without a word he pulled her roughly down the hall, and she had to run to keep up with him and avoid getting strangled. All around were men and women collecting and collaring their new purchases. The man led her out to a car-park at the back of the auction house, and her skin prickled in the cold air. Without speaking, he pulled her towards a large people-carrier. When he unlocked the rear door, Emma saw a sturdy-looking cage attached firmly to the floor. Set into the floor of the cage was a bowl of water and another filled with a basic meal. Emma obediently clambered into the cage, and the man slammed the door shut behind her and locked it. Earning Forgiveness Ch. 05 Without a word, he climbed into the car and started the engine. Emma was privately relieved. If he was going to spend most of his time ignoring her, she thought she might be able to cope. She smelt the food and realised how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten since the morning, and already the sun was starting to set. Emma glanced nervously at the man, but she was no longer with James and William, and no-one had told her that their rules would still apply. She reached out to the food and started to eat it with her hands. She was comforted when he didn't tell her to stop. ***************************** At the auction house, James and William were counting their money, pleased with the day's work. Another man pushed the door open and entered with a smile. He appeared charming and attractive; the kind of man that might be able to tempt a girl to infidelity. They turned and greeted him warmly, and William handed him some money. "There's your share," he said genially. "Feel free to count it." The man nodded and sat down to check his pile of cash. "We did well," he said, sounding pleased. "Yes, and next time you can do more to earn it," James said. "You've been the catalyst twice in a row now. It's your turn to take part in the training." "Fair enough," the man said comfortably. "I've got my eye on someone, anyway. She's quiet, unassuming, pretty; exactly the kind of girl that will be easy to break. You'll like her," he told William. "She's got a great arse."