7 comments/ 48967 views/ 17 favorites Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 02 By: LorenzoMarks (Author's Note: If you want to find out how Annabel became entangled in this humiliating trap, please first read Part One -- 'Annabel's Initiation') PART TWO -- ANNABEL'S TRANSFORMATION Chapter Seventeen Annabel didn't sleep for a long time. It was well over an hour before her tears stopped, but even then her mind was a whirlwind of agitation. Everything that Nash had inflicted upon her during the day seemed so unreal that had she not been shackled face-down on the bed, she could easily have believed it had all been a horrible nightmare. In less than a day, she had been stripped, forced to dress up in humiliating clothes, covered in shoe polish, bathed, paddled on her naked buttocks, and then finally... what did he do to her? The violation that she had been expecting had thankfully never materialized, but the revolting masturbation that had followed, had left her on the brink of despair. She could still feel his hard penis sliding up and down between her buttocks and his sticky, clammy mess as he rubbed it into her skin! Once more she was on the verge of quitting. With the obscene penis gag in her mouth, and her arms and legs spread wide, there was nothing she could do right now. But when Nash eventually released her from the bed, she would demand her possessions back and leave. She simply would not be able to stand a whole year of this abuse. As a parting shot she would inform Nash that she intended to report him to the authorities. That would give the sadistic old pig something to think about! She pictured him falling to his knees, begging her not to report him -- or would he? He had told her that he could remove all his kinky paraphernalia in no time, and that it would be her word against his. Meanwhile he would be certain to call Aunt Sissy, and then her future life of luxury would be over before it began. With her pajama bottoms at half-mast and her semen-coated buttocks exposed, Annabel's tortured and conflicted mind finally succumbed to sleep. * Darius awoke in his own bed with the most fabulous erection. He had to admit that he had gotten way ahead of himself with Annabel on her first day, but the young woman had proven too gorgeous to resist. He allowed himself a few moments to relive the sensation of his cock sandwiched between her warm ass cheeks. Oh Lord, I even licked her asshole! Darius put his hand to his mouth to stifle a sudden burst of laughter. He realized how close he had been to actually mounting her from behind, and was glad that he had withstood the temptation. He doubted if the young missy was still a virgin, but it was a possibility. He would have to clarify that today. What mattered now was taking the bull by the horns while she was still in a state of shock. He couldn't afford to let her recover. He climbed out of bed, threw on a robe, and then went into Annabel's room. There she was, the stuff of his dreams, sleeping soundly. Her head was turned to one side, her luxurious red tresses partly obscuring her graceful features. He crept a little closer to examine her semen-encrusted buttocks and then recorded the image with his Sure Shot. With the flash of the camera, Annabel's eyes snapped open. She looked disoriented, no doubt expecting to wake up in her own bed at Pemberton Hall, but then she began to strain at her bonds, uttering mild ululations through the gag. Darius parked himself beside her and stroked her hair out of her face. "Good morning, Annabel," he said in a kindly manner. "I hope you slept well. I have a lot of fun and games lined up for you today." * Why am I still here? I should have left as soon as he untied me! She had had every intention, and yet she had allowed Nash to deflate the penis gag and remove it from her mouth, un-cuff her wrists and ankles, and then guide her into the bathroom. She had already decided that if having a sexual relationship with Nash was the price of her fortune, then she would gladly forfeit everything. She was in love with Bobby, a handsome muscular sports jock, and her lithe young body was designed for a virile stud like him, not this ugly middle-aged man. She stood in the bathroom in her jammies, and watched in horror as Nash allowed his bathrobe to slip over his shoulders and onto the floor. She held his gaze, willing herself not to look down at the erection that he was surely pointing at her. "Raise your arms, Annabel," Nash said. Sluggishly she did as she was told, and was temporarily blinded as he tugged the ill-fitting top over her head. Nash's eyes automatically dropped to her beautiful breasts and Annabel watched transfixed as his Adam's apple danced in his throat. Then he knelt and pulled her pajama bottoms down -- and they were suddenly both naked together for the first time! Wordlessly he took her by the hand and they stepped into the tub. Nash pulled the shower curtain across and turned on the water. As he took Annabel gently by the shoulders and positioned her under the spray, the tip of his penis bumped against her thigh and she yelped in surprise. While Nash poured liquid soap into his hands, Annabel felt the confines of the curtained tub closing in on her, but still she was unable to run. Inevitably, Nash started by soaping her breasts, and once again Annabel closed her eyes.  Chapter Eighteen I don't believe I'll ever get bored with these puppies! Darius thought happily, as he massaged Annabel's breasts. She had her eyes screwed tight shut and her fists were clenched, but judging from the erect state of her swollen nipples she didn't look as though she was in any discomfort -- expect perhaps, that of her humiliation! He deliberately spent a long time on her boobs, lifting them up, squeezing them, and then rotating his palms slowly around her nubs before tugging on them and stretching them out -- which elicited a gasp from the wet and naked girl. Eventually he re-soaped his hands and knelt down before her as if he was about to propose marriage -- but his intentions were nowhere near as gallant! Mesmerized by her stunning young body, he paused to scrutinize every dip and curve -- her trim little waist, her cute, indented bellybutton, her full hips, and her long, shapely legs. He marveled at the way the water dripped from her nipples and then ran in rivulets down her tight stomach and over her firm thighs. Finally he turned his full attention to her compact little honeypot under its covering of soft, downy red hair. He had invaded her most private space before in this very bathtub of course, but then he had made sure to use the flannel as a buffer. Emboldened by the events of the previous day however, he now fully intended to delve inside her again, but this time with his bare fingers, flesh against flesh. Tremulously he placed his soapy fingertip against Annabel's slit and immediately her eyes opened and she lurched backwards, banging her head against the tiling. Darius waited anxiously. Had he finally gone to far? * He touched me there! It was not the first time that he had probed her most sacred parts, but this time without the protection of the flannel, the sensation of his bare fingertip against her vulva had felt like an electric shock. Even after all she had been through, Annabel had still been clinging to the vain hope that he wouldn't really go all the way with her. Now she realized she was just being naïve and stupid. With every physical contact he was getting bolder, going a little further each time, in order to groom her for the inevitable ultimate act of intercourse! She jammed herself into the corner as hard as she could, hoping for a reprieve of some sort. He was still kneeling below her and the running water obscured her view, but she felt the palm of his hand against her inner thigh, pushing it aside firmly and relentlessly until he had positioned her left foot on the rim of the tub. Her tears began to flow, mixing with the shower spray, as he touched her again. This time she had nowhere to go as his digital invader wormed its way between her outer labia, drilling deeper until she let out an involuntary moan. When she was fully impaled, Nash gently withdrew his finger almost completely, and then slid it back inside her again, seeking out her g-spot -- and to her mortification, finding it! In and out it went, his thumb pushing against her prepuce on each inward thrust, and inescapably she felt herself becoming lubricated as he increased his rhythm. Annabel pressed her palms flat against the tiles and mewled through her clamped teeth as the arousal built inside her. He's doing it again! she thought miserably. And this time he's going to make me come! * In a state of rapt delirium, Darius fixed his eyes upon Annabel's juicy wet cunt. He had planned to bring her to the point of orgasm and then deny her again, but once more this desirable young morsel was derailing his plans! He could just about hear her guttural warbling over the noise of the shower, and as he upped the tempo of his finger-fucking, her thighs began to shake and her stomach muscles twitched. He turned his head to one side and pressed his cheek against her flat belly whilst continuing to pump his hand back and forth. He could hear her stomach juices gurgling and could feel her breasts bouncing on top of his head as her climax approached. Suddenly she squealed and gripped his hair, and then her foot slipped off the rim, and the next moment she was sliding down into the tub with him. She quivered and jerked and slapped him on the back of her head but still he kept on, adding a second finger now, slipping in and out of her slick cunt with ease. With water cascading over their naked bodies, they lay in the tub in a ungainly embrace. Annabel's left leg was draped over the side, leaving her inflamed pussy open as Darius sought to bring her to another peak. Somehow he had one of her nipples clamped between his teeth, and he pulled at it, making her squeal in pain. He rose up onto his knees, pulled his fingers out of her sopping pussy, and turned off the shower faucet. Annabel was staring up at him with wild, big eyes, her shiny breasts rising and falling with each juddering breath. He looked down at her puffed-up labia surrounded by matted red hair, and knew that he could quite easily mount her right now with his rigid cockhead just inches away from her Holy Grail. But there was something not quite right. By lying there in a posture of apparent submission, she was actually subtly turning the tables on him. He had already lost his self-control, and with it, most of his dignity. By succumbing to her overwhelming charms, it would appear as if he needed her, and that was not the impression he wanted to create at all -- and it was a situation that needed to be immediately redressed.  Chapter Nineteen Waiting -- but not at all ready -- for the worst, Annabel watched in amazement as Nash slowly rose to his feet and stepped out of the tub. He had a glowering look on his face that seemed to intimate that she had done something wrong. She remained supine, legs asunder, too surprised and relieved to think about covering herself up, and she watched him apprehensively, wondering what the hell was going on in that depraved mind right now. Nash stood naked in the middle of the bathroom and turned to face her. Aware of his aroused condition, she kept her eyes on his. There was something very disquieting about the way he was regarding her, and now she covered her breasts and crotch with her hands. Finally, he spoke. "Do you see what you have done?" Oh shit, the authority figure is back! Not understanding, Annabel remained silent. "Get out of the tub." Still keeping her hands strategically placed, Annabel maneuvered herself into a standing position and then gingerly stepped out onto the vinyl-covered floor. Apparently attempting to make his meaning clearer, Nash glanced down towards his groin. "Look at what you have done, Annabel." The penny had dropped, but there was no way she could bring herself to look. "You know the penalty for failing to obey me," he warned her. Oh, no, I can't look at it! "If you don't acknowledge the problem you have caused, I'm going downstairs..." "Okay, okay!" Grimacing, she allowed her eyes to drop down to Nash's midriff. He had a fairly substantial belly which was covered with a layer of dark, coarse hair. Below it, protruding from a thick, curly black nest, his excited member jutted towards her. Horrified, she immediately looked back up at his face. "I said, look at it!" Nash snapped irritably. "This is all your doing." How is it my fault? Annabel thought helplessly. Again she reluctantly lowered her eyes. It was thick and quite long, and it curved upwards like a banana with a glistening purple plum on the end. Gross! "As you are responsible," Nash said, "I think you should do something about it, don't you?" * It was as much as he could manage to keep the quiver of excitement out of his voice. Once more he was going to test the limits of her endurance, but more importantly, he was in the process of manipulating the situation so that it would appear as if she were the guilty party. "Come over here and get on your knees, and have a good close look at what you have created with your disgusting performance in the shower." She glanced up at him and almost spoke back, but then thinking better of it, shuffled forward and dropped to her knees so that her face was inches from his swollen bell-end. He looked down at her, and seeing that she was focused upon his navel, shouted, "Look at it!" Annabel jumped at his command, and lips trembling, directed her gaze at his proud member. Her mortification only served to arouse Darius further, and his cock twitched in anticipation. Now that she was on her knees before him, the fun and games could begin. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Knowing better than to look away, Annabel kept her pretty eyes on his erect cock and mumbled, "I... I don't know." "Then let me help you," Darius said. "You say 'I am sorry for sexually arousing you with my disgraceful behavior in the shower, Mr. Nash.'" After a moment's delay while she was evidently weighing up the unfairness of what he was making her say, Annabel repeated the absurd statement. "And I deserve to be punished for it," he added. Almost choking on the words, Annabel reiterated her guilt. "Very well," Darius said. "But before your punishment begins, you'll have to take care of the problem you have created." He swallowed, and yet again braced himself for her sudden flight. "Do you understand what I have just said?" Annabel's only response was a single tear rolling down her crimson cheek. * Above her, Annabel's tormentor said, "Hurry up girl, I haven't got all day." It was obvious what he wanted, but she had to ask him anyway. "What do you want me to do?" His verbal torment was relentless. "What do you think, dummy?" With a low sigh, Annabel raised her hand, and with shaking fingers, wrapped it around his shaft. It had finally happened, and the cruel bastard had engineered it so that she was the initiator of this latest vile act between them. His silence told her to get on with it, and so she began to slowly masturbate him, something she had only ever performed on Bobby before. She could hear his breathing quickening as she slid her fingers up and down, and belatedly remembering that she was directly in the line of fire, she pulled her face away. "Get back in place," Nash breathed huskily. Annabel squeezed out another desolate tear as she comprehended what his intention was. Oh, you sick pig! But he wasn't finished there. "Open your mouth." Shocked, Annabel halted her pumping action. "Do it!" he hissed. She could have let go, could have stood up there and then and walked away from her fortune, but she didn't. Something was compelling her to stay and finish the task. Maybe it was the fact that if she went now, everything she had already endured would have been for nothing. Or was it the fear of him distributing those humiliating pictures of her to her friends? She was no longer sure of what she was doing or why, so she just fixed upon the only constant that made sense anymore. Think of the money! Feeling like a two-bit whore, Annabel opened her mouth. She could no longer see his glans, and now she stared blankly at his fat stomach, trying not to retch at the sensation of his skin moving under her fingers as she worked his stiff cock. She heard Nash issue a low, guttural grunt, and in the next instant the first spurt of his seed hit the back of her throat. Instinctively she let go of his dick and jerked her face away, but not before the second salvo hit her on the nose. "Ugh!" Annabel gagged and tried to hawk up Nash's briny issue, but to her utter dismay he had already clamped his hand over her mouth.  Chapter Twenty What a sight! As Darius came down from the throes of his heady orgasm, he gazed in wonder at his beautiful young victim. A white sticky glob of his spunk dangled from her cute little nose. She remained kneeling, and although he had his hand over her mouth, incredibly she wasn't fighting to get free. Her glistening eyes were focused upon his navel, and she was making strange little mewling noises as she struggled not to swallow his semen. Poor thing! Why did she think he was forcing her to keep her mouth shut? "Swallow." She mumbled something through his fingers and shook her head. "You're already going to be punished for masturbating in the shower, so I suggest you don't make things worse for yourself. Swallow." He felt her hot breath streaming out of her nostrils onto his hand as she contemplated this latest disgusting outrage. "We'll stay here like this until you do as I say," Darius admonished her. "But let me tell you that you have already made your punishment worse." Annabel made a plaintive gurgle and then Darius watched her neck muscles contract as she gulped his ejaculate down into her stomach. The seal of our intimate bonding! Darius could never have dreamed of achieving so much, so soon! Satisfied that she hadn't faked it, he removed his hand and she let out a spluttering gasp. "Did it taste good?" Annabel didn't respond, but the defeat in her eyes was plain to see. How would she ever be able to recover from this? Even though they hadn't had intercourse, and her lips hadn't actually touched his glans, they had climaxed in turn whilst naked together in the bathroom. You couldn't get much closer as a couple than that! But Darius' depraved imagination was already dreaming up so much more. * Back in her bedroom, Annabel waited while Nash flipped through her clothes rack for her new outfit for the day. He had put his robe back on thank God, but she couldn't shake the image of his flabby, hairy body from her mind -- in particular, his thick, veiny, purple-headed penis! So much had occurred since her arrival that she was having trouble on focusing. She felt as though she had already been here a year, and Pemberton Hall seemed like a distant memory. She understood amidst her distress that she was in danger of being totally eclipsed by this odious man. Somewhere, somehow, she was going to have to remain focused on her prize. In a year's time, she would be rich and independent -- then she could plot her revenge. Meanwhile she stood naked and feeling quite nauseous at the though of his sperm settling in her stomach while this complete stranger laid her clothes out on the bed. She supposed she shouldn't have been shocked after what she had been through, but the ridiculously skimpy cosplay maid's uniform still caught her unawares. "Put it on," Nash commanded, whilst ferreting through one of the closet drawers. Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 02 He hadn't provided a bra, and when Annabel had buttoned up the black top, she understood why. Trimmed with white lace, it barely covered her breasts, and the material was so sheer, her nipples were clearly visible. The skirt -- if you could call it that -- was made of the same see-through nylon, had a small white apron sewn into the front, and stopped at the tops of her thighs. There were no panties on the bed, only a pair of white silk garter belts which Annabel donned with distaste. Finally she stepped into a pair of black five-inch pumps and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a comical parody of a French maid, and for all intents and purposes may as well have been naked. Even though he had seen -- and touched -- everything that mattered by now, somehow this bawdy outfit made her feel even more exposed! * Darius turned around and surveyed his sexy little maid. Perfect! He couldn't wait until she was house-trained and he could show her off to some of his more like-minded associates. She looked absolutely delectable -- but he still had a few finishing touches to make. First, he handed her a small white cap. "Can't have a maid without the proper headdress." After she had put on the cap, he sat on the bed and placed her tiger stripe thong, a pair of linked silver balls, and a plastic zip-lock bag beside him. "I told you I would allow you to wear some of your own clothes," he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to go about your chores with your cunt exposed all day." Despite all they had done so far, she still colored up beautifully! "In case you thought I had forgotten about your punishment, you were wrong," Darius said. He held up the balls and they jingled when he shook them. "These are 'Ben Wa' balls. Many women like to walk around with them inside their pussies. It keeps them in a constant state of mild arousal. These have got little chimes inside, so I will be able to hear you as you attend to your duties." Relishing Annabel's open-mouthed expression, he handed her the balls and said, "Put them in, that's a good girl." She stared, dumbfound, at the silver balls in her hand. "In...?" "Inside your cunt, dear," Darius said, off-handedly. "You know, the one you are so fond of playing with." When she continued to stare at them in disbelief, he added, "Are you looking for additional punishment?" He watched entranced, as his shame-faced faux-maid opened her legs, and then awkwardly spread her labia. She pursed her lips, turned bright crimson, and looked away from him as the little metal intruders disappeared from view. "Excellent," he said, feeling his cock rising again. "But this is supposed to be a punishment, so I'm going to add a little something to your underwear." He opened the zip-bag and sprinkled the contents into the gusset of Annabel's thong. "These are dried, crushed, maple seed pods." Annabel simply looked at him, the blushing in her cheeks now accentuated by the 'Ben Wa' balls she had just inserted into her vagina. "Home-made itching powder," Darius explained contentedly. "By the time the little silvery hairs have worked their way up into your ass and pussy, you'll be very sorry that you were such a wanton little girl in the shower."  Chapter Twenty-One An hour later, the itching in Annabel's crotch and between her buttocks, had become almost unbearable. She had loaded the washing machine, vacuumed and polished, and was now dusting in the living room while Nash sat in an armchair reading a newspaper. Almost reading that is, because she was aware that every minute or so, his beady eyes would flick up over the top of the page to secretly ogle Annabel's ass or cleavage. Earlier he had instructed her about 'deportment whilst cleaning' which involved walking with her shoulders back in order to accentuate her bust, and worse, whenever she needed to reach down for something, she was to bend at the waist while keeping her legs straight. Not only was this uncomfortable posture inconvenient, but it afforded Nash a generous view of her buttocks, which were effectively naked on either side of the small strip of material that ran up between them. As she had set about her tasks, with the revolting little balls tinkling softly inside her, Nash had made sure to record her movements with the ever-present camera. If those pictures were ever to be made public...! Thankfully, nothing of a sexual nature had transpired yet, although she was acutely aware of the fact that she was still carrying his semen in her gut. She had hoped to have an opportunity to sneak back to the bathroom and throw up into the toilet, but Nash had refused her permission to go. Now however, her embarrassing and exposed condition was secondary to the agonizing torment going on between her legs. He had previously forbidden her to scratch while she performed her duties, but now the irritation was driving her crazy, and she began to wriggle her thighs as she flicked the feather duster over the furniture. Finally the excruciating sensation was just too much to stand, and her hand automatically dropped under her micro-skirt, her fingers frantically scratching at the front of her thong. "Ahem," Nash said from behind her. "What do you think you are doing?" * Gleefully, Darius watched the wretched girl withdraw her hand from beneath her skirt. Under the pretense of reading the newspaper, he had been surreptitiously observing her progress, and as the minutes had ticked by, her attempts at keeping her composure had grown increasingly futile. At one point, Annabel had bent over with her legs straight, as per his instructions, and he had immediately whipped out his camera to capture the image of her gorgeously rounded ass cheeks. As soon as the flash had gone off, she had jerked upright again, but not before he had had time to spot a delightfully raw area around her mons. On examining the camera's display screen, his suspicions had been confirmed -- the itching powder was definitely doing its work! When Annabel failed to turn and face him, Darius said, "I told you not to scratch yourself. What kind of a girl plays with herself in public? Did you do that in front of Mr. Barclay at Pemberton Hall?" Her shoulders stiffened at the mention of her former servant's name, and without reply she continued to dust. Observing her in the skimpy uniform, with the sexy white garters, and the high-heels emphasizing the smooth lines of her legs, Darius was becoming seriously aroused again. But mindful of his earlier loss of poise in the shower, this time he would have to engineer a way of touching her that would also allow him to maintain his hauteur. The way that Annabel's ass and thighs were twitching told him that she was on the threshold of losing it. After fighting for so long, the agitation in her nether regions had to be reaching unbearable proportions! Darius now decided to play his ace card. "Although you are forbidden to touch yourself, I am quite happy to do the honors for you, if you so desire." She stopped dusting and turned towards him. Her flustered expression was confirmation enough that she was desperate for relief. "Please, Mr. Nash," she said in a barely audible whisper. "I can do it myself. May I go the bathroom?" "Absolutely not. I've offered my assistance, but if you don't want it, then you had better get on with your work." Hiding his exultation at her embarrassing dilemma, he pretended to return to his paper. Incredibly, Annabel dug in and continued to dust, although her jiggling hips betrayed her agony. However, she only lasted another couple of minutes before she turned towards him again and said, "Okay." * It was hopeless! The last thing in the world that Annabel wanted right now was for Nash to touch her privates again, but the irritation was driving her insane! He had already been there, so it wasn't as if she couldn't survive it. Let the horrible pig have his fun! As humiliating as it would be, at least she would get some respite from her torment. Nash lowered his paper. "Okay, what?" Annabel drew a breath and said, "Okay, you can scratch me." "Don't do me any favors," Nash snorted. "Do you think I haven't got anything better to do than play with your pussy?" Annabel blinked and gaped at him. "But I though you wanted to...?" "Wanted to what? You're the one with the itchy cunt." The vicious bastard! Surely he's not going to leave me in this state? But when Nash returned his attention to the paper, it became evident that he most certainly was! Her eyes brimming up yet again, Annabel drew on every ounce of her resolve and forced herself to ask him. "Will you do it?" Once more, those nasty dark eyes engaged hers. "Ask nicely." Oh, you rotten fucker! Annabel wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked at the ceiling. "Please will you... scratch me?" "Scratch you where, Annabel?" Almost hyperventilating with shame, Annabel said, "My... my... crotch!" "Your crotch, or your cunt?" Shaking her head in despair, the tears now rolling freely, and the itching between her legs forcing her to rotate her hips wildly, Annabel yelled, "My cunt! Please scratch my cunt, Mr. Nash!"  Chapter Twenty-Two Mission accomplished! Now Darius would get to play with Annabel's soft, juicy pussy again, only this time he could pretend that it was all a tiresome chore! Even worse for the hapless girl, he intended to keep up the illusion that she was somehow to blame for her troubled condition. This was definitely the way forward, and in time he hoped that Annabel would eventually come to accept his sordid charades as reality. Feigning impatience, Darius folded his paper and said, "Oh, very well. Come over here, turn around, and bend over." Even in her agony, Annabel hesitated at such an indecent request. Still fighting, eh? "If you don't come over here right now, you'll lose your chance. I won't offer again." With a look of desolation on her pretty little face, Annabel approached him, turned her back and bent forward. The ridiculously small maid's skirt rode up over her buttocks, giving him a lovely close-up of her inflamed labia which flared out on either side of the thong. Darius swallowed hungrily and said, "All the way down, and grab your ankles." Annabel did as she was told, practically thrusting her delectable hammock into Darius' face. Her body went rigid as he took hold of her waistband, slowly pulled her thong down to her knees, and drew a delighted breath. Oh, my dear God, the 'Ben Wa' balls have been working their magic too! Not only were Annabel's pussy lips red, moist and swollen, but her anus and perineum were also slick with her seeping juices. Almost choking on the words, Darius said, "Open your legs dear, so that I can get a better look." With a mournful sigh, Annabel shuffled her feet apart until the thong was stretched thin between her spread knees. Darius raised his right hand and gently rubbed his thumb along her irritated cunt lips, and in spite of her obvious mortification, Annabel groaned with pleasure. The poor lamb must have been in agony! Using both hands now, Darius parted her labia and inhaled her feminine musk. He could see one of the silver balls inside her soft, pink vagina, and he gave it a little prod, causing Annabel to yelp. Continuing to stroke at her puffed up sex, Darius now placed his thumb against Annabel's wrinkled little anus, and gradually worked it inside. * Beside herself with shame, Annabel clung to her ankles and looked upside-down at her tormentor. The relief that his probing fingers were providing her was almost divine, and as he pressed his thumb deeper into her itchy asshole, she responded automatically by pushing back onto him. Ooh, that feels so good! She hated herself for feeling this way, but there was no denying it -- the wicked old bastard was not only soothing her pain, but with the help of the persistent 'Ben Wa' balls, he was quickly bringing her towards another unwanted climax! As her ecstasy built however, Annabel suddenly became aware of another sensation building in her bladder. Horrified, she let go of her ankles and tried to straighten up. To her shock and chagrin, she felt a stinging blow across her right buttock. "Get back down!" Nash hissed. "But I need to... oh, fuck! Please stop!" "Stop?" Nash mocked. "But a moment ago, you were begging me to scratch your quim. I wish you'd make up your mind, girl!" "No, you don't understand!" Annabel wailed. "I'm going to... oh!" Nash had his thumb deeply embedded inside her anus now, rotating it around and blissfully easing the burning inside. With his other hand, he alternated between tickling her mons and tugging at her pubic hair, before plunging three fingers inside her and literally fucking her with his hand. Frantically, Annabel tried to wriggle away. She was being ripped apart by the blessed release he was giving her, the impending explosion between her legs, and the horrible prospect of losing control of her bladder. In the end, predictably, Nash gave her no choice. As she bucked her hips, he grabbed hold of the waistband of her skirt, and the next moment a wave of ecstasy pulsed through her body. Her orgasm was so powerful that she crumbled onto her hands and knees, and screamed with pleasure. But Annabel's euphoria was soon replaced by paralyzing horror as her bladder finally gave way, and she felt herself gushing over his hand. * Darius felt her hot piss on his fingers, but he didn't remove them. Instead he watched mesmerized, as the yellow liquid emerged first as a dribble, then a trickle, and very quickly turned into a powerful spurt. She was on all fours now, her face buried in her arms, her naked rump thrust up towards him. He allowed her urine to soak his shirtsleeve and then fall in a noisy cascade between her spread thighs, drenching her taut thong, before forming a spreading dark stain on the carpet. The whole spectacle -- her juiced-up cunt, her inflamed labia, her red-raw asshole, and her misery at disgracing herself in front of him -- almost had him coming in his pants! He was quite amazed at how much piss the distraught wretch was producing, and from the way she was moaning into the carpet, evidently she was too! Eventually the yellow waterfall receded to a dribble down the insides of her thighs. The air was filled with the heady scent of her sexual arousal mixed with the more acrid smell of her micturition. Annabel was crying openly now, her shoulders heaving and her face as wet as her ass and legs. Darius pulled his fingers and thumb out of her sensitive holes and tried to pull himself together too. The girl looked utterly broken, and he realized that he had just opened a window of opportunity to compound her debasement completely. Slotting back into his authoritarian role, Darius said, "Do you know what you have just done?" Annabel was too distraught to respond, so he continued, "I obviously overestimated you. Sissy didn't warn me that you weren't house-trained." Then he had the most delicious idea, and said, "I think I might have just the cure for that."  Chapter Twenty-Three Up in Annabel's punishment room, Nash ordered her to strip. Still in a horrified daze at the way she had just shamed herself, Annabel complied without comment or hesitation. She stood naked before him, unable to meet his gaze, in the awful knowledge that she had just emptied her bladder all over his hand and then his carpet! Up until today, Annabel had always prided herself on her dignity and bearing. She was an immaculate dresser, and was scrupulous about keeping herself well-groomed. She had no dirty habits and avoided people who did. When Nash had molested her in the shower, she had been able to draw upon some measure of solace in the fact that he had been the instigator, not she. Even her confession in the bathroom had been dictated verbatim by him, and they both knew it. But there was no way she could accuse him of forcing her to pee all over the place! That had been her bodily reaction alone, and as much as she tried to convince herself that it would never have happened under any other circumstances, she simply could not dislodge the overwhelming sense of guilt that she felt right now. It was for that reason that she allowed Nash to guide her over to the heavy wooden chair in the corner. "Sit," Nash commanded, and numbly she planted her bare ass on the cold wooden seat. She stared straight ahead as he set about strapping her wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair. But when he locked the metal choker around her neck, she was suddenly galvanized by a bolt of panic. * Darius was quite startled at the noise Annabel was making. She had been unusually subdued since they had come upstairs, but as soon as he fastened the restraining collar she began to holler for all she was worth. "Please! Let me out! I promise to be good! Don't keep me here!" Interesting, Darius thought. She managed to pass the night tied to the bed, but this device has sent her into a frenzy! But rather than free the terrified girl, Darius had already thought of an exquisitely appropriate method of keeping her quiet. Trying to ignore her ear-piercing pleas, he went over to the closet and returned with a gag -- but unlike the ball-gag that he had used to silence her the previous day, this one was fitted with a large metal ring. Because she was yelling at the top of her lungs, he succeeded in jamming the ring between her teeth and securing the leather strap around the back of her head before she was aware of what had happened. Still she continued to protest, but with her jaws now forced wide apart, all she could manage was a continuous gurgling scream. Darius stepped back to survey his latest masterpiece. Stark naked, totally immobile, with her lovely mouth stretched into an ugly gape, Annabel was a vision of vulnerability! Fascinated, he peered at her pink tongue thrashing around inside her mouth, and at her lips, glistening with her saliva. As the first rivulets of drool started to roll down her chin, Darius took his camera out of his pocket and started snapping away. When he had taken several shots of his bound captive, he unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. * Because of the tight collar holding her head back, Annabel couldn't look down, but she instinctively knew that he had exposed himself again. "As is my custom, the punishment will once again fit the crime," Nash said, stepping forward until he was inches from her face. "As you apparently get excited by piss-play, I'm going to treat you to some of my own." No! In vain, Annabel tried to turn her head as Nash lifted his right leg and put his foot on her thigh. Placing one hand against the back of her head, he leaned forward and then fell silent. With her mouth converted into an open and willing receptacle, there was absolutely nothing Annabel could do to stop this! A wave of hopelessness swept over her as she waited for him to concentrate upon his dirty task. Frantically she strained at her bonds, but they didn't budge. Then she heard him gently sigh, and the first splashes of his warm urine hit the back of her throat. Annabel coughed and withdrew her tongue as far back as she could, but the flow quickly intensified, and now she began to choke. Her panic soon escalated into hysteria as her mouth rapidly filled up with his piss. Unable to breath, she swallowed awkwardly, gulping down his waste, but there was so much that it soon overflowed down her chin and over her breasts. Her ears were filled with the gushing sound of his excretion, and her nostrils with its briny smell. The total indignity of what he was doing to her was soon swamped by an all-consuming terror. He's going to drown me! Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 02 Reduced to nothing more than a human toilet, Annabel centered her attention on survival, breathing through her nose and emitting a continuous succession of hacking coughs, as the torrent went on an on.  Chapter Twenty-Four Does it get any better than this? As the pressure in his bladder began to ease, Darius looked lovingly down at his woeful prey. She was absolutely soaked in his piss, and steam rose from her gleaming skin. With her eyes tightly screwed shut, she could not see his rapidly swelling erection, but she would be aware of its presence quite soon. His own breathing trembling, Darius guided the tip of his cock to her lower lip, and then gently stroked it all the way around as if he was applying her lipstick. Unable to turn away, Annabel's only response was to wail unintelligibly. Darius started to pump himself, and then moved his hips forward so that his cockhead was now inside the fleshy cavern of her mouth. As his glans made contact with her tongue, she again tried to retract it. Her fight was absolutely useless of course, and Darius entertained himself for a while by teasing her, prodding at her tongue first, then dabbing at her palate, before thrusting his cock against the back of her throat. While Annabel gagged in response, Darius felt his cock convulse, and after a quick jerk of his wrist, he emptied his load straight down her esophagus. She choked and retched but had no option other than to allow his sticky seed inside her once again. As his orgasm subsided, Darius stayed in place, squeezing out the last few drops of his semen onto her tongue. Then he stepped off her thigh and sat down heavily on the bed. Annabel's eyes remained closed, and more tears mingled with the urine on her face as she balled up her fists. After he had regained a semblance of control, Darius tucked his dick away and picked up Annabel's damp thong. * He's done it again! There is even more of his disgusting mess sliding down my throat, soon to mingle with his piss, his waste water, created in his body, and now inside my own! It was the intimacy that Annabel found the most distressing. She had already resigned herself to the fact that she would be endlessly dressed up, paraded, humiliated, stripped, and then groped, but by turning her into a vessel for his bodily fluids, he was creating an illusion that they were somehow connected, that there was some kind of union between them. And how could she refute that there was? The filthy acts that she had been forced to participate in during their brief time together, had probably exceeded the normal sexual activities of most loving couples already! The distance that she had been hoping to keep between them had already been bridged. Enveloped in a fog of revulsion and horror, Annabel tried to vomit up his foul sectetions, but with her mouth as incapacitated as the rest of her naked body, she could only create a strangled retching sound as Nash once more appeared in her field of vision. "What a silly noise you are making," Nash said. "This should quieten you down, and hopefully after a few hours, it might also cure you of your deviant watersports fetish." He dangled Annabel's thong in front of her face before screwing it up in his hand and then pushing it into her yawning mouth. Absurdly, as she felt herself being stuffed full with the sodden garment, Annabel recalled the day she had bought it at Bloomingdale's. It was supposed to have been a treat for Bobby, but now it had been converted into yet another object of her degradation. With the 'Ben Wa' balls still teasing the inside of her vagina, her anus and labia raw and agitated, and her urine-soaked underwear plugging her stretched mouth, Annabel could have been forgiven for thinking that her punishment was now complete. But Nash fetched one more item from the infernal closet. At first, Annabel was unable to ascertain what the black pouch was for until he stretched it between his hands and began to pull it down over her head. "I'm going to give you plenty of time to ponder your wanton behavior, Annabel," he said, and the last thing Annabel saw as he rolled the clinging rubber over her eyes, was Nash's hideous leering face, and then she was plunged into darkness. * Darius took his time documenting his handiwork with his camera. The rubber hood covered the whole of the top of Annabel's head, including her ears, stopping just above her nostrils in order to permit her to breath. When he had taken a good two dozen shots from a variety of angles, he pressed the soiled thong deeper into her mouth, before kissing her on each of her nipples. Such had been the rapid escalation of her destruction, that he wanted to press home his advantage quickly and completely. It had been barely twenty-four hours since he had first laid eyes on this delightful young girl, and just look at her! Utterly unable to move apart from wiggling her fingers and toes, the deprivation hood made the perfect finishing touch to the next stage of Annabel's training. Even though she appeared to have resigned herself to his perverted games, he knew that deep inside her mind, there would be a secure chamber, an inner sanctum, in which she would have locked away her true self. Darius was certain that the only thing keeping her going now, was the thought of emerging from her ordeal with her personality intact. And contrary to his earlier promise, Darius already knew that he had no intention of ever letting her go. He was totally infatuated, and a year of playtime with this wonderful morsel was way too short. However, the only way he was going to be able to keep her, was by reprogramming her psychological make-up, and if he was successful, long before the year was up, Annabel would have lost all perception of the life she'd had before -- let alone the one she dreamed of in the future. Therefore, step one of her reconditioning, which had just begun, would consist of a period of sensory isolation and loneliness, during which she would come to welcome any human contact -- no matter how warped or perverted it might be.  Chapter Twenty-Five There was no way of knowing how many hours she had been sitting there. She could no longer feel her arms or legs, although the persistent itching in her ass remained. The rubber hood tightly encasing her head ensured that she could neither see nor hear, but at various intervals, Nash had come to check on her. This she knew, because after an interminable amount of time, he had finally removed her thong from her mouth, after which he had squirted a sweet-tasting liquid onto her tongue. Even in her steadily deteriorating mental condition, Annabel had surmised that this must be some kind of glucose solution to keep her from dehydrating, and although she had been incapable of swallowing, it at least took away some of the bitter saltiness of her own urine that she had been forced to endure for so long. For a long while, she had hyperventilated, having never before experienced such a sense of helplessness and isolation, but as time had wound relentlessly on, her tormented mind had started to run an endless loop of images cataloguing her shame and misery at Nash's perverted hands. With no reference to time or space, she had been forced to watch this disgusting carousel, and as she had relived the pleasure she had taken from her forced orgasms, it gradually occurred that he might be right, that maybe she had always been a filthy little slut, and it had merely required someone like him to draw it to the surface. At some stage she must have drifted into a tortured sleep, because she was startled by the touch of his hands as he unbuckled the straps on her wrist and ankles. When he freed her neck, she turned her head from side to side and tried to stand, but her knees buckled, and if her hadn't caught her under the arms she would have collapsed onto her face. * With some difficulty, Darius maneuvered Annabel onto the bed and then removed her ring gag. She had been sitting motionless for four hours, and apart from the electrolyte drink he had poured onto her tongue, she had ingested nothing all day expect for his piss and spunk! Reducing her to a malleable submissive was one thing, but he needed to make sure that she stayed healthy. While Annabel lay like a rag doll on the bed, he took the handcuffs out of the closet and cuffed her wrists behind her back. There was no resistance on her part, not even a whimper of protest. Suddenly alarmed, he put his ear to her nose and watched for the tell-tale rise and fall of her breasts. Good Lord! She's fallen asleep! Even when he began to massage the circulation back into her legs, she failed to respond. When he had worked his hands up and down all of her limbs, he spread her pussy lips and pushed two fingers into her cunt. As he hooked his middle finger under the first 'Ben Wa' ball, Annabel let out a gasp of surprise and tried to sit up. "Ooh! Please take the hood off. I can't see! Is that you, Mr. Nash?" Darius pulled the balls out of her cunt and patted her on the shoulder. She seemed to relax a little then, perhaps recognizing the now-familiar touch of his fingers. "Please Mr. Nash," she repeated. "Please take it off. I understand now. I'll be good, I promise." Darius paused and watched her luxuriant red locks protruding from under the hood as she turned her head blindly from side to side. Naked, with her arms shackled behind her, and unable to see or hear, she was his physically to do with as he pleased. And from the sound of her soft, imploring voice, something had snapped emotionally inside her too. * She assumed it was just the two of them there, but for all she knew there could have been a crowd of onlookers ogling her nude body. Right now, she couldn't have cared less. The only thing that mattered in her life was getting this suffocating hood off her head. She was trying to talk to him, and apart from his hand resting on her shoulder, she had no way of knowing what, if anything, he was saying. She really was willing to do anything to avoid being secured in the darkness and silence like that ever again! But how could she convince him? For a second, Annabel weighed up her options, and then knowing what he had always wanted from the very beginning, she abruptly came to a momentous decision. With a heaviness in her heart that she had never known before, Annabel stopped moving and lay back on the bed. Then she opened her legs, and with a juddering breath said, "Please fuck me, Mr. Nash." Heart pounding, she felt his fingers leave her shoulder, and she waited for the inevitable assault. She had already witnessed how hard he found it to control himself. The next few seconds seemed to drag on forever, but still there was no contact. Was he still there? Annabel spread her thighs wider and raised her hips of the bed. Perhaps he was getting undressed. Or maybe she needed to sound more convincing. "Mr. Nash? I... I'm feeling... you make me... horny. I want you, Mr. Nash. Take me... I beg you!" When Nash still didn't touch her, Annabel wondered if she had just made a terrible mistake. After all, the point of her punishment had been to curb her dirty sexual habits, and here she was, asking him to fuck her like a common whore! Now she tried to backtrack. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nash. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that I thought you liked me, and well I like you, so...oh!" To her chagrin and surprise, Annabel discovered that her vagina was still slightly wet as she felt Nash's swollen glans pushing against her labia.  Chapter Twenty-Six Something must indeed have broken deep within her psyche! Darius thought in wonderment, as he watched his cuffed and hooded captive eagerly offer him her succulent pussy. Could it be that he had already achieved his objective in such an incredibly short space of time? There was a good chance that she was tricking him because she was a devious little soul -- but then Darius was somewhat adept at mind-games himself. The fact was, he was well within his rights to penetrate her because Annabel was actually begging him to! Okay, a court of law might want to take her physical and psychological torture into account as mitigation, but he was confident that they were well past that eventuality. The bottom line here was that she was trying to initiate intercourse, not him. With that in the back of his fevered mind, Darius unbuttoned his trousers, let them fall down, and then stepped out of his shoes. After sliding his y-fronts down his skinny legs, he knelt on the bed between her outstretched thighs, and pointed his throbbing member at her sex. She was starting to apologize now, probably mentally squirming at her impropriety, and her discomfiture only served to heighten his arousal further. The sorrowful girl didn't know what to do! Leaning forward on his hands, with his forearms lifting her knees, Darius prodded at her opening. With a wiggle of his hips, he pushed forward and was both delighted and surprised when she yielded to him with relative ease. He shuffled forward, his tongue lolling out, as his prick slipped deeper inside her, and oh my, was she tight! He hadn't planned or expected their first coupling to take place like this, and in her own way, Annabel had yet again managed to defy him by dictating the course of events. But it was too late now. Even though she stunk of dried urine, he was going to fuck her, nice and slowly, relishing each sweet thrust. And yet, as he pushed himself in as far as he could, their pubic hair mingling together, he managed to remind himself of the importance of this moment. There would never, ever, be any turning back after this -- Annabel would have to be all his. Leaning forward on his elbows so that his face was directly above hers, Darius used his thumbs to remove her hood. * Annabel tried to blink away the stinging sweat in her eyes. She could feel Nash's fetid breath on her face, and of course his thick rod inside her. As she regained focus, she saw that he had angled her legs up under his arms, so that her feet were on either side of her head. He was breathing heavily, and she suspected that his lack of movement was to delay the premature ejaculation they were both surely anticipating. With no option other than to look up into those dark, pitiless eyes, Annabel waited for him to speak. Finally, he said, "You asked for this, didn't you?" "Yes." "You begged me to fuck you." In spite of herself, Annabel felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. "Yes." "Why?" It sounded like a stupid question, but she understood the rules of the game and she had to give him the answer he craved. "Because... because I love you, Mr. Nash." "And you will do anything for me?" An unbidden tear trickled out of the corner of Annabel's eye as the brutal reality of the situation engulfed her. "Yes, anything." "No matter how vile or abhorrent it may be?" Annabel's reply was barely audible. "Yes." "Very well," Nash said huskily. "In that case, I will grant you your disgusting little wish, and give you the fucking that you so obviously need." He began to move slowly, only the slightest thrusting motion, but yet again her treacherous body responded, giving him the lubrication he required. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he hissed. "Yes." "Ask." "Kiss me, please." Nash planted his mouth over hers, and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. As their tongues thrashed together, Annabel knew that she had crossed another irreversible threshold. This wasn't the same as him ejaculating into her mouth. Now they were making love, and she was submitting to her new master! * Darius accelerated slowly, trying his best to draw out this pivotal moment in their relationship. It seemed inconceivable that the lovely young woman submitting to him was the same haughty bitch that had turned up on his doorstep only the day before! Feeling her lovely breasts squashing against his chest, and the tight velvety walls of her cunt squeezing his rigid shaft, he withdrew his tongue and kissed her on the eyes and nose, and then wiped her matted hair away from her forehead and kissed that too. Then he came. There was no question of him delaying it. As his seed rushed into her womb, Annabel's shoulders jerked and she exhaled into his mouth. He remained inside her for a long time, certain that this time, she hadn't climaxed. Again, he was overcome with resentment that she had used her youth and female charms to wrest the advantage away from him. There was of course, only one method that he knew of, that would correct that imbalance. He pulled out of Annabel unceremoniously, eliciting a gasp from the hapless girl. "There," he said brusquely. "You've had your fuck, and I hope you enjoyed it, because every time you indulge in your lewd addictions, I will punish you for it." Standing, he continued, "Go over to the punishment chair." "Please, no!" Annabel rolled into a terrified ball. "I don't intend to strap you in again," Nash said, turning to the closet. "But if you don't get over there now, I just might." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jump up off the bed. After a cursory inspection of the rack, Darius selected an old-fashioned bamboo cane that he had been looking forward to using. "Turn around, put your hands on the chair and push out your butt." Her whole body trembling, the gorgeous young woman that he had just violated, obediently presented him with her naked rear. "Legs apart, head down!" When Annabel had assumed the humiliating and submissive posture, he raised the cane high above his head. Crack! He delivered the first stinging blow before she had time to prepare for it, and Annabel shrieked in pain. "You deserve to be punished, don't you Annabel?" Swish! Two welts began to rise on her perfect white cheeks. "Yes!" she huffed. Swoosh! "You are a dirty, oversexed slut who is infatuated with her master, aren't you?" Smack! "Aah! Yes, Mr. Nash! Please! It hurts!" Whack! Annabel's ass was now crisscrossed with angry red lines. "From here on, you will obey each and every command instantly and with gratitude, won't you?" Annabel's head came up in anticipation of the next blow, but it never came. "Ye... yes, Mr. Nash," she sobbed. "Okay." Darius lowered the cane, and ran his hand lovingly over Annabel's contused buttocks, causing her to flinch. "Next week, I will be having some friends over for a poker night. By that time, I expect you to have become a well-presented, efficient maid, who will humbly and enthusiastically carry out any command she is given. If you embarrass me, even in the slightest, your chastisement today will seem like a treat in comparison to what I will do to you, is that clear?" Annabel sniffed, head down and legs apart, displaying the soft folds of her hammock between her ruddy ass cheeks. "Yes, Mr. Nash." Licking his thin, purple lips in heady anticipation, Darius said, "Very well, then. Let your training begin." NEXT: PART THREE -- ANNABEL'S DESCENT. Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 03 ANNABEL AND MR. NASH (Author's Note: If you want to find out how Annabel became entangled in this humiliating trap, please first read Part One -- 'Annabel's Initiation', and Part Two -- 'Annabel's Transformation') PART THREE -- ANNABEL'S DESCENT Chapter Twenty-Seven "Annabel, the sausage rolls are ready," said Mrs. Craddock. With a weary sigh, Annabel stopped what she was doing, picked up a dishcloth, and crouched down in front of the oven. It was a maneuver that she found both awkward and embarrassing, due to the bizarre and kinky costume that Nash had assigned her for the morning. She wobbled on her absurdly tall pumps as her round ass cheeks settled just above her heels. In the reflection of the glass door, Annabel could see the old woman scrutinizing her bare back, and was grateful that Nash had at least allowed her to cover her front with a blue apron. Other than that, her only other attire was a pair of black satin panties and a white cotton cap, under which she had been instructed to tie up her auburn hair. So far this week, Mrs. Craddock hadn't displayed any lesbian tendencies, but the way she constantly examined her new charge was somewhat disconcerting, to say the least. Nash had hired the stern, gray-haired woman to teach Annabel how to cook and clean, as well as give her lessons in etiquette and deportment. At first, Annabel had welcomed the idea, thinking that for at least four mornings a week, she would be spared Nash's lewd and intimate attentions. But Mrs. Craddock had turned out to be a hard and relentless taskmaster, and any illusions that Annabel had harbored of receiving some feminine sympathy were quickly dispelled. This was their third morning together, and it had been no less physically or mentally tiring than the first two. After spending three hours on her feet in the living room, practicing how to bow, curtsey, kneel, and speak to her master in the correct manner, Annabel had passed the remainder of the morning learning how to make sandwiches, dips, salads and snacks under Mrs. Craddock's watchful eye. Placing the tray on the counter, Annabel felt the stern old bitch's hot breath on her neck and she automatically stiffened. Why does she have to stand so close? "Not bad," the old woman said. "I think we might just about have you ready in time to receive Mr. Nash's guests tonight. Now, go upstairs and change into your leotard." * Darius settled into a garden chair with his Canon Sure Shot at the ready, and watched as Mrs. Craddock put Annabel through her paces. It was a crisp, clear afternoon, just cool enough for Annabel's nipples to poke proudly against the green latex leotard that she was squeezed into. Right now, Mrs. Craddock had Annabel holding a rather comical and uncomfortable-looking pose -- her left arm held out straight to the side, her right arm aiming at the sky, and her legs bent slightly at the knees with her feet pointing outwards. The posture had the effect of accentuating the bulge of her mons, and certainly merited a couple of pictures. Annabel had been motionless like this for over a minute, and already her slender arms were beginning to tremble. However, Mrs. Craddock appeared to have no intention of giving the hapless girl any relief just yet. "Now we are going to work on facial muscle control," she said from the comfort of the other garden chair. "I want you to open your mouth and poke out your tongue as far as it will go." Darius watched gleefully as Annabel's eyes briefly flickered in his direction and her cheeks glowed a deeper shade of pink. As her pretty features contorted into the absurd expression, Darius could have clapped with delight. Oh, Mrs. Craddock, you are priceless! There could have been no useful purpose in having Annabel display herself like this -- the sole intention being simply to humiliate her! Darius was very pleased that he had invested some of Sissy's payment money in procuring the sadistic old housekeeper's services. She had been recommended by an acquaintance who shared Darius' warped sexual tendencies, and her presence acted as a buffer between himself and Annabel, helping to consolidate their master-slave relationship. To further enhance the illusion, the old bag never once dropped her officious demeanor, even though it was quite evident that she got her sexual kicks from directing Annabel's escalating debasement. As Annabel struggled to maintain the excruciating pose, Darius realized that he was watching a master of cruelty at work, and from whom, over the coming months, he hoped to learn so much. * The aching in her jaws, arms, and back, were becoming intolerable, but Annabel knew from her previous exercise session that if she moved without Mrs. Craddock's permission, a painful and humiliating ass-whipping would ensue. She had only been laid across the old woman's lap once before, but the red stripes that Mrs. Craddock's crop had left on Annabel's buttocks were still visible. On that occasion, Nash had not been present, but now, the possibility of having her bottom flayed in front of the dirty lecher seemed unthinkable! While her tormentors waited for her to slip-up, Annabel avoided their eyes and tried to concentrate. Her mind had been such a ragged mess over the past few days that she wasn't thinking coherently any more. Between Mrs. Craddock and Nash himself, she had been kept constantly on her toes -- often literally -- and her only time alone had been spent in an exhausted sleep whilst handcuffed to her bed. The only positive was that Nash had not touched her since she had so shamefully offered herself to him -- although his apparent indifference both baffled and worried her. Even she wasn't naïve enough to believe that that would be their last physical liaison. "Very good, Annabel," Mrs. Craddock said grudgingly. "You may close your mouth and stand up straight." Grateful for the relief, Annabel did as she was told, but then Mrs. Craddock added, "Now we'll have twenty minutes running on the spot. Hands behind your head, and knees up high!" Annabel jogged in place and tried to remind herself why she was still here. She hadn't lost sight of her goal, but there were other factors now -- the punishment chair and the terrifying rubber hood, Mrs. Craddock's painful crop, and of course Nash's ever-growing collection of pictures. With her breasts bouncing wildly, and her bare feet pounding on the grass, Annabel stared at the back door of the house, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Nash raise his camera once again.  Chapter Twenty-Eight Showered and shaved, dressed in a pressed white shirt, gray slacks, and highly-buffed loafers, Darius settled into an armchair and waited for his delightful maid to bring him his drink. He was quite honestly astonished at how readily Annabel had buckled down over the past few days. He had deliberately reduced their personal contact, preferring to take on the role of occasional observer -- and photographer -- while Mrs. Craddock molded Annabel into his subservient plaything, and he had to admit that the results so far appeared to be beyond expectations. In their few exchanges, Annabel had been courteous and obedient, kept her lovely eyes lowered, and had followed his orders promptly and without complaint. Ever the connoisseur of delayed gratification, Darius had refrained from instructing her to do anything of a sexual nature --but that would all change this evening, and he was interested to see how she would react. Having come this far, she would undoubtedly do her utmost not to allow her efforts go to waste, but by bringing three other equally-depraved players into the game, Annabel would once again soon be breaking unchartered territory. While he was dwelling upon the delicious possibilities ahead, the beautiful young girl timidly entered the living room with a tumbler of bourbon on a silver tray. She was back in her skimpy maid's outfit, complete with cap, garter belts, fishnet stockings, and five-inch pumps, the only addition this time being a matching black lace bra and panty set, which was plainly visible under the see-through uniform. Mrs. Craddock evidently knew a thing or two about make-up too, because Annabel was wearing just enough scarlet lipstick, black mascara, and green eye shadow to look slightly tarty without obscuring her innate beauty. Averting her eyes, Annabel placed Darius' drink on the coffee table whilst remembering to keep her legs straight, and her rump thrust out. Admiring the smooth curves of her thighs, Darius was just contemplating giving her ass a squeeze when the doorbell rang. "Ah," he said. "That will be the first of my guests. Be a good girl and see them in." * Even though Mrs. Craddock had explained in chilling detail the dire consequences Annabel would face should she fail to perform her duties exactly as instructed tonight, she was still swamped by a sudden attack of stage fright as she approached the front door. Thus far, Nash's vulgar sport had been conducted in relative privacy, with only two witnesses to her steady fall from grace, but tonight there would be three other strangers in the house, and although the new list taped to the refrigerator merely outlined her responsibilities as a hostess, there was a lurking dread in the back of her mind that she was going to be the object of a more debauched form of entertainment. After taking a series of deep breaths, she opened the door with trembling fingers. Two men of about Nash's age stood on the doorstep and eyed her hungrily. "Good evening, sirs," she said, following Mrs. Craddock's script. "My name is Annabel. Welcome to Mr. Nash's residence." Then, trying not to blush, she dipped into a dainty curtsey whilst holding out the edges of her flimsy miniskirt. The first man entered the room as Annabel straightened up, and then holding her breath, kissed him on the cheek. She had to reach up to perform this demeaning greeting because he was a tall man, with a square, stubbly chin, and striking gray eyes that were currently fixed upon her well-supported cleavage. "Very nice to meet you honey," he said, giving her cheek a playful squeeze. "I'm Eddie Yeats. I have to say, Darius is a lucky man to have such a sweet-looking maid!" As Yeats went into the living room, Annabel turned towards the second guest, a squat, balding old guy, with a bulbous red nose. Resisting the urge to retch, she went to press her lips against his cheek, but at the last moment the dirty old pig turned his face towards her so that their lips connected, causing her to pull away in shocked surprise. "Hello, Annabel," he grinned, displaying a row of yellow uneven teeth. "Tom Craddock. I believe you know my wife." * Alastair Barclay decided to park his car a block away from Nash's house and walk the rest of the way. Oddly, despite his eagerness to discover how much Annabel had been altered during the past week, he was also a little nervous. Nash had promised him on the phone that he would soon be living out his lifelong sexual fantasy, but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that it was really going to happen. Over the years, Alastair had watched Annabel grow up and develop into a most desirable young woman -- and the inspiration for most of his dirty dreams -- but he had never even remotely considered that she would become anything other than that. As he walked, Alastair reminisced over some of the disgusting acts that he had visualized Annabel performing during his frequent masturbation sessions -- was it really possible that he was about to see them happening in the flesh? He climbed up the steps of the modest brownstone and shaking with anticipation, pressed the doorbell. When the door swung open a moment later, the heavenly apparition standing before him, almost took his breath away -- Annabel was dressed in the most provocative maid's outfit he had ever seen! The black, low-cut, semi-transparent top was trimmed with white lace and stopped just below her thrust-up breasts, leaving her flat midriff bare. The tiny skirt and apron barely reached the tops of her thighs which were adorned with white garters, and her long legs were wrapped in black fishnet stockings, their shape accentuated by a pair of high-heeled pumps. Her make-up was heavier than she usually wore, enough to make her look cheap but not comical, and the stunning image was crowned by a cute little white cap on her head, under which her glorious red hair had been pinned up into a bun. My God, just look at her! Alastair watched open-mouthed as without preamble, Annabel pulled her miniskirt outwards with her fingertips, and bent her legs into a low curtsey. "Good evening, sir, my name is Annabel..." she started, and then her eyes grew wide and her face twisted into a mask of horror. "Barclay!" she shrieked, and in the next instant, she fled up the stairs.  Chapter Twenty-Nine As soon as she reached the landing at the top of the stairs, Annabel stopped, her breasts heaving. The dreadful repercussions of any transgressions on her part had been deeply ingrained into her over the past few days, which was why she had managed to dredge up the inner strength to demean herself in front of the other two guests. She hadn't meant to run, it had been a spontaneous reaction when she had seen Barclay standing in front of her. This was a man who had been catering to her every whim for as long as she could remember! For her entire life, she had barely given him a second thought as he had chauffeured her to school, served her food, and obeyed her orders without question. It hadn't entered her head that he might be one of the guests tonight. Now the tables would be completely turned. How could this possibly be happening? I'm going to have to serve him! "Annabel!" Nash bellowed up the stairs. "Get back down here this instant!" Slowly, she turned around. Her pumps were at the foot of the stairs where she had kicked them off in her panic. Barclay remained in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face. She needed time to think. There had to be a way to avoid this. But Nash was waiting, and Mrs. Craddock's ominous words still echoed in her mind. "Annabel! This is your last chance!" Nash yelled from the living room. Her mind enveloped in a fog of confusion, Annabel skipped down the stairs in her stockinged feet and put her pumps back on. Then she tottered along the hallway and stood once more in front of her former servant. Swallowing hard, and unable to meet Barclay's gaze, Annabel lowered herself before him. "Good... good evening, Sir," she croaked, feeling her cheeks on fire. "My name is Annabel. Welcome to Mr. Nash's residence." Then she straightened up and, for the first time in her life, kissed Barclay on the cheek. * Darius had no idea if Annabel understood anything about the rules of poker, but as the delectable young girl hovered around making sure that their glasses and plates remained full, she appeared unaware of the absence of money or chips on the table as they played out the first hand. Alastair and Craddock folded, but under the previously agreed rules, they couldn't have cared less -- they were all going to be winners tonight. Yeats beat Darius with a straight and then said, "So let me see if I've got this right. Now I get to choose -- a shot, an item of clothing, or a forfeit?" "That's correct," Darius said, glancing at Annabel for a reaction, but she either wasn't listening, or didn't understand. "But before you do, Annabel has a special little gift for us." Now she looked at him nervously as he continued, "Annabel, would you be so kind as to fetch the little tray from the coffee table?" Darius had left it there earlier amongst the plates of snacks and bottles of liquor, and although she hadn't said a word, she must have noticed the blue, diamond-shaped tablets on the silver tray. Again, he wondered just how naïve the pampered young lady had been before her arrival here, but surely she must have known what they were? Remembering to keep her legs straight, Annabel bent down and retrieved the tray. "Now, when I explained to Annabel that we would be playing strip poker tonight," Darius smiled, "she came up with a delightful idea." Annabel looked at him, her face a picture of anxiety and bewilderment. "In order to ensure that the forfeits won't be a... flop, so to speak, she is going to feed each of you a Viagra, aren't you Annabel?" Darius observed the panic in Annabel's eyes with delight as he went on. "And you can start with Mr. Eddie." * Oh, this is too good to be true! Alastair Barclay thought as he watched Annabel pick up the first tablet with her slender little fingers. Darius Nash is wicked beyond words! Not only are we all soon going to be sporting rock-hard erections, but he has managed to create the illusion that Annabel will be responsible for them! She stood awkwardly before Yeats, her ever-present blush intensifying as she waited for him to take the pill from her. The big fella had no intention of letting her off that easy, however! With a twinkle in his eye, he simply opened his mouth and offered her his long tongue. Alastair watched in fascination as the wretched girl warily placed the tablet on his tongue, and then whipped her fingers away quickly, as if he was going to bite her. "Offer Mr. Eddie a drink," Nash prompted. Almost in slow motion, Annabel picked up Yeats' glass of scotch and held it to his lips. After he had swallowed, he moved the glass aside and held her gaze, before leaning forward and kissing her on the lips. Incredibly, Annabel didn't scream, jerk away, or even close her eyes -- it was as if she had been hypnotized. "Mr. Tom's turn now," Nash said, breaking the spell. Mechanically, Annabel moved around the table to where Craddock was eagerly waiting. As soon as she reached him, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. Now Annabel did react with a yelp, but Craddock held her in place as he opened his mouth and waggled his tongue at her. As he sucked the Viagra pill from her fingertips, his other hand slid up over her stomach, pushing up against the underside of her bra and jiggling her breasts. After a brief struggle, she managed to worm her way off his lap and then stood in front of Alastair. If hand-feeding erectile-dysfunction medication to middle-aged strangers wasn't bad enough, Alastair could only guess at the inner turmoil Annabel was suffering as she offered him his pill. For Alastair, it was a highly symbolic moment as he opened his mouth and allowed her to pop the blue tablet inside -- they both knew what this meant, and where it was all heading. As Annabel's pretty blue eyes brimmed up, Alastair felt a stirring in his loins that couldn't possibly have been caused so soon by the Viagra.  Chapter Thirty Standing numbly to one side, Annabel fought back tears of shame as she tried to process what was happening here. Of course Nash had lied when he had told his friends that she knew they would be playing strip poker. But what did that mean? Were they all going to get naked in front of her? And what would happen when the Viagra kicked in? An unwelcome image popped into her head of the four old men with their penises jutting out from under their fat bellies. "So now that the naughty little maid has given us our medicine," Yeats caught Annabel's eye and winked, forcing her to look away. "I get to choose." "An item of clothing, a shot, or a forfeit," Nash confirmed jovially. "Well, that's a no-brainer," Yeats said. "Shots and forfeits come later." He rubbed his chin and looked around the table and Annabel held her breath. She still hadn't come to terms with Nash's nudity earlier in the week, so she most definitely didn't want to see this! "Let's see," Yeats said. "I choose Annabel's top." Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 03 There was an awkward silence as all eyes turned towards her. Then Yeats' words finally sunk in. "But... I'm not playing!" she pleaded. "It's in the rules," Nash said, leaning back in his seat. "The winner of each hand decides who takes off what. Now hurry up, girl. We haven't got all night." "Please," Annabel whimpered, as realization dawned. They're going to strip me completely naked! The game is all about me! "Annabel!" Nash snapped. "Do not try my patience! I have guests! Now get your top off, and pour me another drink!" His sudden switch to authority figure mode stabbed against something fragile within her, and Annabel thought of the punishment chair and the long, lonely hours spent under the stifling rubber hood. All of her resistance crumbled and she slowly unbuttoned the scanty top. She could feel their lecherous eyes boring into her as she parted the material and then shrugged it over her shoulders and let it fall to the carpet. Now the shape of her generous bust was clearly on display, her cleavage pushed up by the sexy lace bra. Trying not to make her breasts wobble too much, Annabel timidly took Nash's proffered glass and made him another drink. Her ears burned bright red as she heard them dealing out the next set of cards. * "Flush!" Craddock declared triumphantly, and then without hesitation said, "Annabel loses her bra!" Well, well! Darius thought. They're getting impatient. The Viagra must be doing its work! He had noticed during the second hand that they were having difficulty concentrating, but for Darius it was important that they kept up the charade. The rules of the game had to be observed, and the striptease that Annabel was performing, would have to be slow and -- for her -- painful. The fact was, even though his perverted pals were going to have a deliciously rude evening at Annabel's expense, he had devised this scenario purely for his own gratification. She might, in time, get used to being groped and fucked by him, but each time a new person was introduced to her continuing abasement, she would be forced to endure her humiliation anew. They all looked up at their unwilling temptress, and she took an involuntary step backwards. "I can't!" she breathed, and her hands came up to cover her black bra. She looked at Darius helplessly, but all he did was raise his bushy eyebrows. Fresh tears ran down Annabel's cheeks now as she understood that it was pointless to keep stalling. They both knew what was at stake, and having come this far, that she may as well accept everything else that was heading her way. Sadly for her, it was never going to get any easier. Her bottom lip trembled as she reached around and unhooked her bra. Darius noticed each member of her audience lean forward slightly as, after a brief delay, she let the cups slip from her ample boobs and then dropped the bra at her feet. Darius wondered if she was going to cover her nipples with her hands this time, but to his surprise and delight, she kept them at her sides, giving them all a splendid view of her pointed, pink nubs. * "Oh my Lord, Annabel!" Yeats chuckled. "You could hang your hat on those headlamps!" Craddock and Nash both laughed, but Alastair simply stared transfixed at the gravity-defying tits that his former mistress was presenting to them. He couldn't count how many times he had fantasized over seeing them uncovered, but the reality in front of him was even more breathtaking than he could have imagined. He tore his eyes away from her bloated areolas and leisurely perused the rest of her stunning young body, taking in every inch of her shapely legs, her narrow waist, her exquisite little belly button, and finally her overly made-up face, which was now deeply flushed with shame. "Okay, gentlemen," Nash said briskly. "Tom to deal." How can he possibly be interested in cards? Alastair thought. When all three of his guests continued to gawp, Nash added, "Don't worry, our topless maid isn't going anywhere." Somehow they managed to play out the hand, although Alastair's shaking fingers gave away his excitement. He could only make a pair, but all he wanted was for somebody to win quickly so that he could get a good long look at Annabel's naked pussy. "Flush beats a straight," Nash said to Yeats, and then without even glancing at Annabel said, "Remove your skirt." There was no complaining from the tearful girl this time, and she simply slipped the negligible piece of material down her legs and stepped out of it. Now she was clad only in her fishnets, heels, panties, and the charming little white cap. Alastair's cock strained at his underpants as he studied Annabel's pubic mound, her camel-toe almost devouring the black satin. She stood quite still and kept her moist eyes fixed upon the opposite wall. The next hand was Craddock's, but by now it didn't make any difference who won because they all had the same agenda - to strip Annabel naked and then move on to the forfeits. But to Alastair's frustration, rather than choosing Annabel's panties, Craddock said, "I think I'll take a shot."  Chapter Thirty-One "Annabel, bring over the Patron." She had deliberately been trying to ignore their lewd comments while the four middle-aged men drank and played cards. Now the sound of her name brought her back to the awful present moment, and after a split-second's confusion, she went over to the coffee table. Painfully aware of her obscenely dangling breasts, she bent forward -- legs straight and buttocks pushed out, as she had been drilled by Mrs. Craddock -- and picked up a tray of salt, limes, shooter glasses, and the squat bottle of gold tequila. Returning to the table, she needed no further instruction from Nash as she poured out a shot glass of the amber liquid and then handed it to Craddock, whose face was just inches from her breasts. When he stuck out his wet tongue, Annabel flinched and drew back. "Stay where you are," Nash said. "We can't have a titty tequila, without a nice pair of tits, can we?" Titty tequila? What the hell is that? Annabel suddenly felt a little faint. In her peripheral vision, she was aware of Barclay's intent stare as she reluctantly offered her left breast to Craddock. When the vulgar little man's tongue touched her nub, she let out an involuntary groan of revulsion. Taking his time, Craddock lapped around her areola until it glistened with his saliva. Then to her horror, he picked up the salt cellar and sprinkled it over the moistened area. As disgusted and red-faced as she was, Annabel couldn't help but look down at her salt-encrusted nipple before it disappeared once more between Craddock's lips. This time, instead of licking, he suckled on her like an infant, filling the air with the sound of his slurping. It didn't take long before -- to Annabel's chagrin -- he succeeded in arousing her teat to erection before pulling his mouth off it with a resounding plop. After drinking the tequila, he placed a slice of lime between his teeth and arched his neck so that he was facing up to Annabel. There was no point in pretending that she didn't understand his meaning, so she bent down and hesitantly put her lips against his. Then, in front of the others, they French-kissed, Annabel trying not to retch due to the alcohol fumes in his throat as he spat lime juice into her mouth. Eventually she broke away, but not before Nash had captured the humiliating moment on his Canon Sure Shot. Understanding now that she was going to be in for a long night, Annabel tried not to dwell upon what they might have in store for her next. * Barclay won the next hand, and Darius knew exactly what he was going to do. The lustful old butler was practically panting at the prospect of exposing Annabel's cunt, and it was greeted with general mirth when he said, "Okay! Annabel drops her panties!" "Steady on, buddy!" Yeats laughed. "There's plenty of time!" "No, it's fine," Darius said. "Rules are rules, and the winner gets to choose. Annabel stand back from the table so we can all have a good look at you." Her tears had dried up since the titty tequila ordeal, and her pretty eyes had taken on a resigned expression. Of course she would have known that this was eventually going to happen, and apparently she had mentally steeled herself for it. How she reacted when they started on the forfeits would be another thing entirely, however! She backed away, and after letting out a deep, shuddering sigh, took hold of the waistband and drew her panties down over her thighs. Then bending forward, she pulled them down to her ankles and then over her pumps. She remained in that position, with her breasts hanging beneath her for a moment, before finally, painstakingly slowly, she straightened up. Everyone gazed adoringly at her well-pronounced vulva with its covering of soft, red hair. Barclay leaned so far forward that he almost fell out of his chair, while Annabel seemed to be exerting incredible willpower not to cover herself, her fists clenched tightly by her sides. Now completely nude except for the cap, stockings, and pumps, Annabel was ready for the forfeits. * Alastair had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The unobtainable Miss Annabel, whom he had lusted over for the past few years was effectively naked! Not only that, but she was being forced to serve him in that embarrassing condition! He hardly noticed the cards he was dealt as she tottered back and forth, making sure that their glasses and plates were replenished. He had tried to make eye contact, but she was having none of it, keeping her eyes lowered as she went about her duties. However, her attempts at retaining even a tiny amount of dignity were exposed by the constant red tinge in her cheeks. As Yeats laid down a full house, Alastair glanced over at the coffee table where Annabel was preparing another drink. She was bending over with her back to them, her legs straight and thighs together so that she presented them with a first-class view of her sensational ass. Alastair's cock was almost bursting out of his pants now, and he was willing to bet that there were three more rock-hard erections under the table. Just look at her! How long have I dreamed about this? And it's actually happening! "Well, there's no point in getting Annabel to take off any more clothing," Yeats said. "I think we're all agreed that the fishnets and high-heels look just fine." There was an enthusiastic chorus of approval, so he went on, "In that case, it's either a shot or a forfeit, am I right?" "You are," Nash said. "And I get to decide the forfeit? "Right again." "In that case," Yeats grinned, pushing his chair back from the table. "Annabel gets to give me a blow job! Sorry guys!"  Chapter Thirty-Two Annabel watched in stunned silence as Yeats unzipped his fly and pulled out his penis. In her short life, the only other ones she had seen were Bobby's and Nash's, but this was by far the biggest, with heavy veins and a bulbous head. Because of the Viagra, he had a powerful erection, and mesmerized, she couldn't take her eyes off it. Blow job! He said blow job! She knew what it meant but she was unable to make any sense of the words. Her friends had talked about it, and she had seen some dirty pictures, but she had never agreed to it with Bobby, no matter how much he had begged her. It had just seemed like such a filthy act! The closest she had come of course, had been when Nash had twice ejaculated into her mouth, but she had somehow compartmentalized that day, and when no repeat performance had occurred, she had almost succeeded in pretending that it had never actually happened. But now she was staring at another stranger's phallus, rude and angry, and pointing right at her! "Come on, honey," Yeats cooed. "You're responsible for this. Give me some relief." In spite of everything that had happened, Annabel's whole body began to shake. I can't do this. Not in front of them! Especially not in front of Barclay! "What's up, Annabel?" Nash said. "Stage fright? I don't know why. You know what sperm tastes like, don't you?" "I... can't," Annabel said tremulously. "I don't know how." "Just get on your knees," Yeats coaxed. "I'll show you." Annabel knew that eventually she would have to do what he wanted, but she was frozen to the spot. "Do as he says," Nash warned her. "By the time this night is over, you'll be quite the expert." * Darius watched Annabel slump to her knees in front of Yeats' spread legs. He had moved his chair back far enough so that they could all see the action, and Darius had to admit that the big guy was impressively well hung. Watching Annabel take that monster into her mouth would be quite a spectacle and he reached for his camera as Yeats placed one large hand on the back of Annabel's head, while with the other, he guided the tip of his cock towards her mouth. Annabel kept her lips clamped tightly shut when they made contact with Yeats' swollen glans, and then shook her head and started making desperate whining noises. Her reluctance only made him laugh however, and he at first satisfied himself by wiping his cockhead back and forth along Annabel's lips, coating them with pre-cum. Then he pinched her nostrils together and increased the pressure on the back of her head. "I don't know about Annabel," Craddock commented, "but it looks like Eddie had done this before!" It was only a question of time before Annabel was forced to take a breath, and when she did, Yeats pulled her head down and thrust his hips forward. Darius began taking pictures as Yeats' manhood disappeared into her mouth, making her cheeks swell. When his dick touched the back of her throat, she gagged and Yeats withdrew his shiny rod. "Put out your tongue," he said, huskily. Annabel coughed and shook her head. "Do it," Nash said, and a tear trickled out of the corner of Annabel's eye and she let out a miserable sob. Then she poked out her little pink tongue and started lapping at Yeats' thick shaft. "That's a good girl," Yeats crooned. "Lick it all the way up and down, just like a popsicle." Darius watched entranced as their naked maid licked and slathered up and down the giant cock and then to his surprise, took the whole thing back into her mouth. * A wave of jealousy swept through Alastair as he watched Annabel pick up the tempo. It was irrational he knew, but he felt as if she somehow belonged to him. He had served her all these years, and he knew her better than any one else present -- and he had jerked off with her on his mind so many times that it seemed unfair that he should now be watching her pleasure another man. But his frustration was soon outweighed by a voyeuristic delight as he watched her head bounce up and down, taking Yeats' cock deeply into her mouth, gagging occasionally, but sticking to her task until Yeats began to moan. As he raised himself off the chair, Yeats said, "Hold it in your mouth!" He grunted a few times, jerked his hips, and then clamped his hand around Annabel's neck as she tried to pull away. Finally he relaxed with a sigh and allowed her up for air. "Don't swallow," Nash commanded. "Look this way and open your mouth." Annabel's tearful eyes were filled with despair as she faced the camera. Her tongue was covered in Yeats' white spunk which soon dribbled over her bottom lip and down her chin. "Show everybody what a dirty little whore you have become," Nash said, as he snapped away. Annabel continued to exhibit the filthy contents of her mouth to the four spectators, and it was as much as Alastair could do not to whip his own cock out right then! Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Finally, Nash said, "You may swallow." With a grimace, Annabel closed her mouth and gulped Yeats' sticky issue down her throat. She remained on her knees, her crimson face wet with tears and her beautiful breasts heaving as she caught her breath. Nash put down the camera and said, "You see, it wasn't that difficult after all, was it? In fact, I think you are a natural cocksucker. Eddie, your deal, I believe."  Chapter Thirty-Three For a long while, Annabel stayed on her knees, tasting Yeats' sticky semen in the back of her throat. That had been her first attempt at fellatio, and she hoped, without much conviction, that it would be her last. After her initial aversion, she had impulsively opted to try and get him to come as quickly as possible, her sole objective being to get his rigid penis out of her mouth. But in doing so, she had fallen into another of Nash's psychological traps -- his throw-away remark had made her feel cheap and dirty. While the men turned their attention to the next hand, they appeared to have lost all interest in her. At least when Nash was constantly giving her orders, she had been the center of attention -- now she just felt as if she had been used and discarded. Even Yeats, whom she had just satisfied so efficiently, had his back to her. Her physical and emotional revulsion was now joined by an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. A cocksucker! Is that all I am now? "Four of a kind!" she heard Craddock say. "You know what? I think I'll take another tequila!" "Annabel!" Nash said. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and rose unsteadily to her feet. Once more, all eyes were upon her as she approached the table. She saw Yeats leering at her and looked away. No matter what happened after this, he would always have the pleasant memory of her sucking him off in front of the others. "Another titty tequila for Mr. Tom," Nash announced. Instinctively she raised an arm across her breasts, but Craddock said, "No, not titty this time. I want an asshole tequila." "Asshole?" Yeats nearly spat his whisky across the table. "Why the hell not?" Craddock beamed. "How the fuck does that work?" Yeats chuckled. Nash and Barclay looked at him inquiringly -- and so did Annabel. Sounding a little on the drunk side, Craddock said, "I'll show you. Annabel dear, please be so kind as to turn around, part your legs and grab your ankles." * Well, well, I didn't see this coming! Darius thought, as Annabel looked at him imploringly. Should be interesting. "Come along, Annabel," he said, as if what Craddock had just asked her was the most natural thing in the world. "You've just performed like a common whore so you should have no trouble with this." Annabel stared at him, lips slightly parted, and Darius was sure he saw a flicker of outrage in those pretty eyes -- but it was soon replaced by a dull look of resignation. She turned and bent, shuffling her feet apart, and then wrapped her fingers around her calves. They had been ogling her naked ass for the past hour or so, but this was a vision to behold! Her fleshy pussy lips were fully on display, and between her spread legs, her breasts and hair hung downward. For a second she looked at her tormentors upside-down, but then quickly closed her eyes. The other three men looked at Craddock curiously as he pulled Annabel's ass cheeks apart, causing her to jerk in surprise. Then he poked out his tongue and started lapping at her ring-piece. Annabel let out a barely audible gasp as he worked his tongue around the sensitive area and then prodded at her opening. Next, he began drawing long strokes up and down the cleft of her buttocks, squeezing her cheeks with his fingers and tickling her labia with the tip of his tongue. Annabel began to squirm and wriggled her hips. When Craddock finally took his face out of her ass, the whole area was shining with his saliva. "Delicious!" the old deviant said, reaching for the salt cellar. After coating her with salt, he went to work with his tongue again, giving a little more attention to her cunt lips this time. Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 03 From her obscene and inverted position, Annabel moaned, "Oh, stop! Please stop!" * What a disgustingly filthy old lecher! Alastair thought as he watched open-mouthed at Annabel's latest defilement. He felt another stab of envy as Craddock downed the tequila and placed a wedge of lime between his teeth. Everybody is getting to play with her except me! I'm going to have to concentrate on my cards more! After sucking on the lime, Alastair assumed that Craddock was going to feed it to Annabel's inverted mouth between her legs -- but the salivating little man had other ideas. Prying her ass cheeks apart with his left hand, he took the small piece of fruit out of his mouth and squashed it against her puckered anus. A fascinated silence fell over the table as he worked the lime wedge past Annabel's sphincter muscle and pushed it into her rectum with his thumb. Annabel wiggled in discomfort and emitted a high-pitched squeal of disapproval -- but still Craddock wasn't done. Alastair watched awestruck as a second, third, and fourth wedge of lime followed, plugging up her asshole, and with each insertion, Annabel's protestations grew louder. "Ugh! Aah! Oh! Don't. Please! Take them out!" she groaned, her eyes now wide open as she observed each piece invading her body. I'll bet that's a first for you, young Annabel! Alastair thought contentedly, as he absently massaged his own erection through his pants. Finally Annabel was allowed to straighten up, and on Nash's command, she turned around to face them. Her cheeks, already flushed with embarrassment, were now scarlet from having spent so long bent over. Her eyes had begun to fill up again, and her whole body quivered. Alastair drank in her beauty once again, his eyes lingering on her full breasts and then dropping down to the downy triangle between her thighs. She has stripped naked for us, had her nipple sucked, performed fellatio, and is now carrying four wedges of lime up her ass! And the night is still young! As Craddock shuffled the deck, Alastair decided that he absolutely had to win the next hand.  Chapter Thirty-Four This time Annabel paid attention as they played out the next hand. Until now, the card game had appeared to be an incidental backdrop to the real game -- which was to subject Annabel to their increasingly sick sexual torments. But by now she had grasped the fact that whoever won the hand earned the right to do whatever they wanted to her, and that meant that there was still one unthinkable eventuality that she desperately hoped she might avoid -- being molested by Barclay! All of those years growing up at Pemberton Hall, he had been a constant background presence, but unlike the cooks, maids and gardeners, whom Annabel had treated almost like family, she had always sensed something insidious about the old butler. As she had matured into womanhood, she had become aware of the furtive looks he gave her, but as creepy and annoying as that was, she had never quite been able to catch him doing anything incriminating. There would have been nothing more enjoyable than getting the old reprobate fired, but she had eventually concluded that he simply didn't have the guts to act upon his filthy urges. That knowledge had provided Annabel with a measure of security, and over the past year she had deliberately provoked him, parading herself in the skimpiest of clothing, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to her. Oh, how she regretted that now! So far this evening he had watched her strip naked, have her nipple sucked, taken a stranger's penis into her mouth, and had lime wedges pushed into her rectum! That was mortifying enough. God forbid that he should win a hand now. Who knew what he might do to her? Her heart-rate increasing, she watched uncomprehendingly as they showed their hands -- and when Nash won, she let out an audible sigh of relief. * Darius laid his four of a kind on the table and looked at the other hands. Yeats had a straight, Craddock a two pair, and Barclay just a king high. Either the old butler was plain unlucky or he was the lousiest poker player Darius had ever seen! But even as he considered what to do with Annabel next, he saw the relief wash across her face and he instinctively understood what she was thinking. She had already been more intimate with Yeats and Craddock than she could ever have imagined, therefore she would probably find a repeat performance repugnant, but just about doable. So why was she suddenly so interested in who won the hand? Darius' wicked eyes flicked from Annabel to Barclay, who was looking at her breasts with increasing frustration. Of course! Years of subservience, lusting over the unobtainable princess! There was more than sexual release at stake here. This was a role reversal that neither of them could have conceived of a week ago! Okay, Mr. Barclay, it's payback time! "Well, my turn, I guess," he said casually. He perused the naked girl for a moment and she eyed him with a mixture of bewilderment and trepidation. Had she guessed what was coming? "And my choice is... Alastair gets to fuck Annabel in front of us!" Yeats guffawed and slapped the table, Craddock licked his lips, and Barclay simply blinked and stared first at Darius, and then at Annabel. "No," she whispered. "No, that's not fair! You won the hand. You should... have me!" The naked girl looked so delightfully flustered that Darius was almost tempted to change his mind. He had a raging hard-on that needed serious attention -- but this was going to prove far more fun. "Oh, our sexy maid is setting the rules now is she? Well that's earned her a punishment session after the game." He turned to Barclay who was still gazing at Annabel rapturously. "Well, Alastair? You had the lowest hand, so I think it's only right that you should carry out the forfeit." Barclay opened his mouth but no words came out, so Darius prompted, "I'm sure Eddie or Tom would be happy to oblige if you prefer..." "No, no!" Barclay suddenly found his voice. "I'll fuck her!" * Alastair would have preferred to have taken Annabel somewhere private, but like it or not, this was Nash's game and he had full control of it. If Alastair had to fuck her in front of these guys, then so be it -- for all he knew, this might be his one and only chance to fulfill a lifelong fantasy. There would certainly be no danger of him failing to perform -- regardless of the Viagra that was currently coursing through his veins, he had been maintaining a constant erection ever since Annabel had been forced to reveal her gorgeous body to them. He downed his drink for a bit of Dutch courage and then stood up. As he approached her, Annabel put out her hands and backed away. "Please don't do this, Barclay!" she begged him, eyes wide in panic. From behind him, Alastair heard Nash say, "Annabel! What were you told about being rude to my guests? Do you want to spend a week in the punishment chair?" She glanced at Nash desperately, and then appealed once more to Alastair. "I'll make it worth your while if you don't touch me," she whispered. Alastair's eyes dropped to her perfectly formed tits, and then further down to her succulent pubic mound. "I'm sorry, my dear," he said. "But I've dreamed about this moment for a long, long time." Annabel sobbed forlornly and Nash said, "As it's my forfeit, I get to direct proceedings. Are you okay with that, Alastair?" "Whatever," Alastair said impatiently. "Good. Annabel, get on your knees in front of Mr. Barclay." With a look of despair on her face, Annabel hesitatingly sank down to the carpet. Alastair gazed down at the top of her head, now level with his crotch, and once again had to remind himself that this wasn't another wet dream. "Take out Mr. Barclay's cock," Nash instructed. Annabel squeezed out yet more tears as she reluctantly pulled Alastair's zipper down. He felt her shaking fingers delving inside his underwear, and then fumbling to free his erect member. When it popped out, she jumped back and turned her face away. "You know what to do now, don't you, little miss cocksucker?" Nash said cruelly.  Chapter Thirty-Five He's a beast! A terrible, awful beast! Even after all the torture and humiliation, this was something that she simply could not bring herself to do. This was the hired help! A sad old man who probably hadn't been with a woman in decades! And yet, to resist now would mean she would lose everything, and all that she had endured would be for nothing. Nash had spun a web around her so tightly that she could see no way out. In a few seconds she would be sucking the penis of her lifelong servant, and she was powerless to prevent it from happening! "Hurry up, girl," she heard Nash say, and after taking a long, shuddering breath, she opened her mouth, shut her eyes, and leaned forward. With disgust, she felt Barclay's enlarged glans sliding against her lips as he uttered a groan of pleasure. Then she closed her lips around his shaft, feeling its repulsive skin moving against her tongue. Her nose touched the fabric of his pants as she took in his length, feeling it prod against the back of her throat, and making her gag. She pulled back until her lips encircled his cockhead, and through her eyelids, she saw a flash from Nash's camera. What does it matter now? she thought desolately. It's really happening, right now. I can't go back in time and change it. Barclay's penis is inside my mouth! She continued to suck him gently, afraid of making him ejaculate into her mouth. She had already swallowed Yeats' semen, but the prospect of adding Barclay's to it was too awful to contemplate. "Okay, enough foreplay," Nash announced. "Annabel, turn around and get on your hands and knees. Alastair, I want you to take her doggy-style." Annabel let Barclay's penis slide out of her mouth and she inadvertently opened her eyes. The swollen head was pointing at her face, glistening with her saliva. She stared at it with a horrified fascination, unable to connect it with the humble manservant from Pemberton Hall. As she turned away and got down on all-fours, it seemed unimaginable that in a moment he would be inserting it into her vagina! * The shame and mortification on Annabel's face was plain for all to see as she presented her rear-end to Barclay. It was such a titillating scene that Darius almost forgot to keep taking pictures. Barclay looked as though he had just gone to heaven as he took himself in hand, and then guided his wet cock towards Annabel's waiting pussy. He needed a couple of tentative thrusts before her labia yielded, and then he nudged himself inside her, each poke going in a little deeper, until she finally accommodated the full length of him. Annabel's head hung down, her forehead touching the carpet, her face hidden by her hanging red locks, and her arms braced as Barclay began to pump his cock in and out of her body. He gripped her by the hips, pulling her backwards with each forward thrust, gradually picking up speed. Darius watched intently as Annabel's fingers dug into the carpet and her breasts swung back and forth. For an old guy, Barclay was giving her a pretty good seeing to, but then again, he had probably had plenty of mental practice in the past! The room was silent except for the squelching sound of Barclays's rigid prick slipping steadily in and out of Annabel's juiced-up cunt, accompanied by her deep breaths as she became unwillingly aroused by her former manservant. All too soon, Barclay's body tensed and he arched his back, pushing his hips forward so that she was fully impaled, and then he let out a long blissful moan as he emptied his seed into her womb. The two unlikely lovers remained coupled together for a moment, and nobody at the card table was inclined to speak, realizing that they had just witnessed a groundbreaking moment for both of them -- their relationship would never be the same again. Eventually Barclay pulled out of her, presenting them all with a good view of her puffed-up labia. Annabel's cheek was pressed into the carpet, her face turned away from them, and from the way her shoulders gently shook, Darius figured that the woeful girl was crying again. He had no intention of giving her a reprieve, though. "I don't know what you're so miserable about," he said. "It was your idea to feed everyone a Viagra. What did you expect to happen? Now, what do you have to say to Mr. Alastair?" * Annabel couldn't face them now. She had surely reached her nadir this time. She had just submitted to the last man on earth that she would ever have wanted to have sex with. Through her indescribable grief, as she choked back a fresh flood of tears, Annabel's only consolation was that he hadn't managed to bring her to orgasm. Not that the old fuck would be concerned about that. He had just acted out a dream that neither of them had even slightly considered could ever happen. His erect penis had been inside her, and now so was his hot semen! Both of them were very well aware that nothing could ever change that fact. They had fucked. Mated. Copulated. And Nash had it all recorded on his camera. "Well? Aren't you going to thank Mr. Alastair for fucking you?" Nash said mockingly. Suddenly Annabel felt an overpowering surge of hatred engulf her. She slowly raised herself up and turned around. Barclay was still on his knees, his face flushed, his eyes alight with passion, and his flagging member still hanging out of his fly. Craddock and Yeats were smiling curiously, as if they had just learned something new and interesting about her -- perhaps they were looking ahead to their turn. She knew that it was essential to keep control, but the words just came tumbling out. "You pig!" she spat at Barclay. "You fucking dirty old pig!" Her eyes blurred with tears, she turned towards the table. "You're all pigs!" For a long moment, nobody spoke. Then Nash said softly. "I'm shocked, Annabel. Does this mean that you want to nullify our agreement?" Annabel blinked away her tears and looked at him. She had almost forgotten why she had allowed him to subject her to this endless string of degradations. There was a purpose to all of this, wasn't there? A light at the end of the tunnel? She was so confused, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. And then her shoulders slumped, and from somewhere far away she heard herself meekly reply, "No, Mr. Nash. I don't."  Chapter Thirty-Six Darius breathed in a deep sigh of relief. That was close! He had been absolutely convinced that Annabel had been psychologically broken by now. That was why he had allowed things to progress so far. Her sudden violent reaction had been totally unexpected, and had frankly scared the shit out of him. If she went to the police now, even if the four of them colluded against her, a simple test would confirm that the semen inside her belonged to Barclay and Yeats. After that, it would merely be a matter of time before they were all fucked themselves! But just when he had begun to fear the worst, she had abruptly capitulated. In spite of everything they had done to her, Annabel was apparently still able to bring her focus back to the end game -- her fortune. The question was what to do now? Call it a night and give her a chance to calm down? Or seize upon this sudden downshift in her anger and press home his advantage? Yeats and Craddock were looking at him a little anxiously -- clearly they had been startled by her reaction too. He had promised them that Annabel would be as docile as a lamb. How he wished Mrs. Craddock were here now! With some effort, he assumed his mask of authority. "Well then, under the terms of our arrangement, you have just committed a serious breach of the rules. You have insulted my guests. I cannot tolerate that can I?" Anxiously, Darius awaited her response. If she flared up again, it would surely be over. He knew he was taking a huge risk right now, but if he prevailed here, then surely her subjugation would finally be complete. In a barely audible voice, Annabel again said "No, Mr. Nash." Thank God! "Then I think we'll call an end to the card game and spend the rest of the evening working on your punishment. Does that sound fair?" Annabel kept her eyes lowered, her damp cheeks glowing, and her tits bouncing as she tried to suppress a sob. "Yes, Mr. Nash." So that's it then. Her outburst must have been an aberration triggered by the trauma of being forced to submit to Barclay. "Good. Then we'll begin with an apology." Despite his measured tone, Darius realized that he was perspiring as he excused himself and went up to Annabel's room. * While they waited for Nash to return, Barclay zipped himself up and returned to his seat at the card table. He had a vague, ponderous expression on his face, as if he couldn't quite believe what they had just done either. Still kneeling, Annabel was suddenly aware of her nudity again and -- absurdly, considering what she had been through so far -- covered her breasts and pubes with her hands. Yeats waved his empty glass and said, "Honey, we could all do with a refill, if you don't mind?" It was a ludicrous, nightmarish scenario. She had been penetrated by Barclay, forced to perform fellatio on Yeats, had her nipple sucked and her ass plugged with fruit by Craddock, and yet here they were, expecting her to continue in her absurd pseudo-maid's role! Annabel let out an exasperated, miserable sigh and rose to her feet. As she gathered up their glasses, she had no other option than to allow them to ogle her unprotected body again. She went over to the coffee table and prepared their drinks, automatically keeping her legs straight and pushing out her bare ass. What the fuck! Let them look! she thought dejectedly. When she got back to the table, Nash had returned to his seat. In front of him were a bamboo cane, a leather collar, handcuffs, an odd-looking plastic circular contraption, and two small metal hooks attached to lengths of string. Her newfound resignation was suddenly replaced by a knot of dread in her stomach. She had no idea what he intended to with the other mysterious objects, but the purpose of the cane was obvious! "Go and stand in the middle of the floor and turn around and grab your ankles as you did before," Nash said sternly. Understanding that any resistance would only increase her suffering, Annabel obeyed. Between her parted thighs, she watched Nash hand the cane to Craddock. "Tom, you can go first. Six of the best in your own time." Annabel felt her heart beginning to pound faster as Craddock took up position behind her. Nash said, "Annabel, after each stroke you will count, and then say 'Thank you, sir. I apologize for being rude'. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mr. Nash," Annabel replied in a quavering voice. Without preamble, Craddock swished the cane through the air and then Annabel jumped as a fiery pain tore across her buttocks. "Ow! One! Thank you, sir! I apologize for being rude!" * As Craddock delivered his six measured strokes, Alastair was unable to tear his eyes away from Annabel's inflamed cunt lips. My cock was inside there! Good God, after all these years of frustration! And Nash has photographic evidence. I must get copies! Each time Craddock brought the cane viciously down, Annabel's head came up, her mane of glorious auburn hair flying wildly, but somehow she managed to keep her indecent pose. As her ass cheeks began to redden, her apologies grew increasingly louder. Clearly each strike was agonizing. Finally Craddock delivered his sixth slash across her ass. "Aah! Six! Thank... thank you, sir!" Annabel sobbed. "I apologize... for being ru... rude!" "You're welcome, Annabel," Craddock smiled, and returning to the table said, "Whose next?" Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 04 (Author's Note: If you want to find out how Annabel became entangled in this humiliating trap, please first read Part One -- 'Annabel's Initiation', Part Two -- 'Annabel's Transformation', and Part Three -- 'Annabel's Descent') PART FOUR -- ANNABEL'S PUBLIC DISGRACE Chapter Thirty-Eight Three days had passed since the strip poker night, and although she had not been forced into any further sexual encounters, Annabel knew that something within her had been altered permanently. Try as she might as she went about her menial household tasks, she was unable to erase what had happened from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw only the leering faces of her tormentors, and even more disturbingly, recalled every minute detail of their erect penises -- with which she had become so intimately familiar! The worst part was that she couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow to blame. Intellectually she understood that she had been manipulated and coerced into stripping for them and then allowing them to violate her body. But deep down inside, she knew that ultimately it had been her choice to remain in this depraved madhouse. Initially it had been all about the money, but Nash's constant insinuations were beginning to seep into her psyche. Was it really possible that she was taking a subconscious pleasure from being degraded in this way? What had happened to the proud and self-confident young lady that she used to be? Right now, she felt nothing but disgust and self-loathing as she stared back at herself in the mirror on her closet door. She was currently being punished because Mrs. Craddock had found a speck of food on one of the dishes that Annabel had previously washed. For the past hour, Annabel had been standing motionless, with nothing to do but gaze at her own absurd image and think. She was standing stark naked in the middle of her room. Mrs. Craddock had secured her thumbs together with plastic tie-wraps half way up her back, and then balanced a glass of water upon her head. Then Mrs. Craddock had left Annabel alone with the parting warning that if she were to spill one single drop, a far more serious punishment would ensue. And so here she had remained, listening to the muted sounds of the house, afraid to move a muscle, and endlessly replaying in her head the devastating scenes from the weekend that simply refused to go away. * After spending two hours at Annabel's laptop scrolling through her social networking history, Darius figured he had a pretty good grasp of who was who within her inner sanctum of friends. Many of the recent conversations had centered around Annabel's lack of communication over the past few days. Evidently she was something of a celebrity within her social circle, her beauty, style, and future wealth making her an irresistible attraction to the rest of the in-crowd. A few of them had paid visits to Pemberton Hall, only to be informed that Annabel had 'gone away for a while' and that she would 'contact them again when the time was right'. With no other information forthcoming, her friends had concluded that she was safe, and that her disappearing act must be in some way linked to her inheritance. Technically they were right on both counts, although Darius thought they would be more than a little shocked if they were to see how far their idol had fallen over the past week! The latest exchanges made reference to an upcoming pool party at the home of a sexy-looking blonde called Helen. Also, judging from some of the comments he had read, Darius noted that Annabel's boyfriend, Bobby, was rather upset by Annabel's unexplained silence, and that Helen was trying to capitalize by inviting him to the party. Interesting. One of Annabel's so-called friends is planning to make a move on her man. From the way Bobby still talked about Annabel, Darius doubted that even a hot babe like Helen would have any chance at this early stage, but as he followed the dialogue, the germ of a fiendish idea began to formulate in Darius' mind. It was time for the new Annabel to go public -- and by Saturday night, neither Bobby, nor any of Annabel's other admirers, would retain any further romantic interest in her at all! He composed his thoughts for a moment, and then began typing a message to Helen. * After Annabel had been standing still for over two hours, Mrs. Craddock returned to the room, took the glass of water off her head, and freed her thumbs. Annabel's legs ached from such prolonged immobility but she was hesitant to move until the old woman gave her permission. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable under Mrs. Craddock's gaze, she remained motionless, unsure of what to do with her hands. As Mrs. Craddock scrutinized her exposed body, Annabel wondered, not for the first time, about the sexual leanings of this sadistic housekeeper. An awful image of Mrs. Craddock's revolting husband ejaculating into Annabel's stretched open mouth suddenly resurfaced, and she wondered if the old woman knew about it. Mrs. Craddock finally nodded and said, "Come with me to the kitchen." Annabel glanced at the closet. "Aren't I going to get dressed first?" "You won't be needing clothes for your exam," Mrs. Craddock said, and for the first time, Annabel thought she detected the faintest of smiles on her face. Exam? What does she mean? Perplexed and apprehensive, Annabel followed her down the stairs. Even though her customary maid's uniform was extremely revealing, walking around the house without a stitch on made her feel that much more vulnerable. Earlier, when she had been standing in her room, Annabel had heard the doorbell ring followed by voices downstairs, and now she wondered anxiously if the visitors were still here. When she reached the kitchen doorway, she wrapped her arms around herself and froze. Nash was seated at the kitchen table which had been covered with plastic sheeting, and standing next to him were a small man in a white coat, and a stern-looking woman in a nurse's uniform.  Chapter Thirty-Nine The suggestion that Annabel be subjected to regular medical exams had come from Mrs. Craddock. When she had also informed Darius that she knew of a debarred former doctor who would be more than willing to accommodate Annabel's special requirements, she had shown no indication that this would be anything other than a regular examination. But after observing her cruel and titillating treatment of Annabel over the past week, Darius knew that this was going to be anything but straightforward for the poor girl. Dr. Schafer was a diminutive man with a bald head, a goatee, and round steel-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose. His assistant nurse was tall, with intense black eyes, and had her dark hair tied up in a severe bun beneath her cap. On arrival they had presented themselves politely and professionally, as if they really didn't have anything deviant planned for their young patient. Darius had happily gone along with the role-play, relishing the prospect of watching Annabel being put through a series of painful and embarrassing procedures under the pretext of maintaining her health. Now he watched as the naked girl spotted the ominous-looking medical equipment they had laid out on the kitchen unit, and to his delight her knees began to tremble. "Annabel," Darius said. "I'd like you to meet Doctor Schafer and Nurse Ingle. I've explained your medical problems to them and they will be coming here periodically to treat you." Annabel looked at them mutely, the shaking now spreading through her whole body. "Please," she finally whimpered. "I feel fine. There's no need..." "Come, my dear," Dr. Schafer said in a creepy voice. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here to make you better." He held out his hand, and Annabel took a step back. Darius feigned exasperation and said, "For goodness sake! Must you always act so immaturely? If you refuse to cooperate with the doctor, you know what will happen. Now get in here this instant!" For a second it looked as if she would bolt, but then the quivering girl allowed Dr. Schafer to take her by the arm and guide her up onto the kitchen table. * What do they mean by medical problems? There's nothing wrong with me! Dr. Schafer had positioned her on all fours on the table, making her feel horribly exposed without any clothes on. Nash and Mrs. Craddock had taken their seats, and now the spiteful-looking nurse picked up a curious-looking vinyl sleeve from the kitchen unit. "Bend your arm so that she can put it on you," Dr. Schafer said softly. Annabel had always been afraid of doctors, and could hardly bring herself to step inside a hospital, but when she'd had to, she had always acknowledged that they were there for her benefit. But after everything she had suffered here, she knew perfectly well that this weird little doctor was not interested in her wellbeing in the slightest. In a state of near-panic, she allowed the silent Nurse Ingle to slip the sleeve over her arm and then zip it up tightly, which forced Annabel to bend her arm back with her fingers touching her shoulder. Then she repeated this process with Annabel's other arm, obliging her to lean forward on her elbows. Wordlessly, the nurse moved behind Annabel and pulled her right ankle up so that her calf was pressed up against the back of her thigh. Once Annabel's leg was snugly bent double inside its sleeve, Nurse Ingle completed her task by securing Annabel's left leg in the same fashion. Blushing furiously, her body shivering and covered in goose bumps, Annabel could only imagine what kind of a sight she presented, balanced on her elbows and knees, and as naked as the day she was born. It came as no surprise when Nash pulled out his trusty camera. * The quietly professional manner in which this perverted doctor and his assistant were going about their work, only added to Darius' growing excitement. Judging from the wicked-looking contraptions that they had arranged on the kitchen unit, Annabel was going to be in for a long, uncomfortable, and horribly embarrassing afternoon! Her cheeks had already turned their usual deep pink as she braced herself for the coming torture. With her finger tips touching her shoulders and her dainty feet stuck up in the air behind her, she already resembled some kind of four-legged beast perched up on the table. But her disfigurement was about to get much worse! Nurse Ingle fetched the dog collar that Darius had previously used on Annabel after the card game, and swiftly fastened it around the wriggling girl's neck. Next, just as Darius had done on the preceding weekend, she placed two little metal hooks inside Annabel's nostrils and pulled the attached strings up over the top of her head, before affixing them to the back of her collar. Once again, Annabel's pretty nose had been transformed into a little pig's snout! Darius didn't need to guess what was coming next. When Nurse Ingle prompted Annabel to open her mouth, the terrified girl clamped her lips shut and within the restrictions of the nose hooks, tried to shake her head. Darius would ordinarily have said something at this point, but today he figured that this corrupt medical team had everything under control. He was right, but he didn't anticipate the sudden and brutal technique that Nurse Ingle would use to make Annabel open up her mouth. Without warning, she thrust two fingers inside Annabel's distended nostrils, blocking off her air supply. It must have hurt too, because the nurse had long, red fingernails. Sure enough, after a few seconds, Annabel's mouth opened with a deep huff, and the plastic extension device was quickly jammed between her lips. Then Nurse Ingle ratcheted it out to its fullest width, once more pulling Annabel's mouth out into a ridiculously broad grin. Unable to move, propped up on her knees and elbows, with her face contorted into a freakish mask, Annabel's eyes yet again filled up with tears. "Thank you, Nurse Ingle," Doctor Schafer said in a formal manner. "Now we'll commence with the irrigations." Darius' cock bulged in his pants as he snapped away with his camera. By God, these people are good!  Chapter Forty Because of the nose hooks pulling her head back, Annabel was unable to see what they were doing behind her, but when she heard the sink faucet running, her sphincter muscle automatically tightened. Irrigations? He can't mean... Annabel jerked suddenly as she felt something hard touch against her puckered anus. "Just try to relax, dear," Dr. Schafer said comfortingly. Oh God, no! Not there! As Dr. Schafer began to force the intruding object into her body, Annabel tried to protest, but with her mouth forced wide open, she could only muster a gargled "Aah!" sound. Prior to arriving in this lunatic asylum, the very idea of anything penetrating her there would have been unthinkable, but now her anus was as accessible as every other orifice in her body. A sharp pain shot through her as her sphincter finally yielded and she felt the tube-shaped invader easing deeper inside her rectum. "Ugh!" Annabel waited with trepidation for the sudden gush of water that was sure to follow, but instead, Nurse Ingle appeared in her field of vision once more, and placed a bowl of water on the table beneath Annabel's chin. Next she produced a small plastic syringe from her top pocket, and with a malicious smile, filled it from the bowl. Then she stuck the nozzle of the syringe inside Annabel's right nostril and slowly depressed the plunger. "Ach!" As the tiny jet of liquid shot up her nose and back down into her throat, Annabel simultaneously felt a powerful cold surge exploding inside her rectum. "Kak!" Her whole body went rigid from shock as she coughed up the water in her mouth. Before she had time to recover from the first assault, Nurse Ingle promptly ejected a second spurt up into Annabel's left nostril, whilst behind her, Dr. Schafer pumped another flood of water into her bowels. The synchronized watery assault was so quick that Annabel didn't have time to assimilate which orifice was causing her the most discomfort. Her mouth was filling up with water, and the steady succession of nasal injections were making her hack constantly. Meanwhile, as the pressure in her bowels began to build, Annabel started to feel the first sharp abdominal cramps. * Darius lowered his camera for a moment and watched in awe as Annabel's suffering intensified. Her eyes rolled madly in their sockets as she tried to dispel the water that Nurse Ingle was shooting into her nostrils. Behind her, Dr. Schafer was squeezing a rubber pump attached to the hose that protruded from Annabel's asshole. The other end was submersed in a deep bowl of soapy water, and as Dr. Schafer gradually emptied it into her bowels, Annabel scrunched up her lovely little toes in distress. It was her sheer helplessness that Darius found so captivating. Balanced as she was on her knees and elbows, Annabel's attempts at shifting forward were easily checked by Nurse Ingle's firm hand on her shoulder. Right now for Annabel, standing upright like a normal human being was an impossibility, and, unable to close her expanded mouth, she was also incapable of uttering a single intelligible sound. Darius had no idea what the wretched girl must be thinking, but even her shame and embarrassment surely had to be secondary to her incessant choking combined with the liquid pressure building inside her. Water ran freely from Annabel's nose and mouth now, spreading out over the plastic sheeting and onto the kitchen floor. Two strings of snot dangled from her distorted nostrils, and her tongue thrashed around wildly in her gaping mouth. Minutes passed, and Darius watched with fascination as Annabel's once-flat belly began to swell. * Mercifully, Nurse Ingle finally ended her liquid bombardment, although it took more than a minute before Annabel finally got her breathing under control. The downside was that her mind was now free to focus fully upon the increasingly painful cramps in her abdomen. She had never felt so uncomfortably full in her life! In her side-vision she saw yet another flash from Nash's camera, and then she heard him say, "She's really beginning to bloat out. Are you sure this is safe?" Dr. Schafer replied, "Don't worry, Mr. Nash. I know what I'm doing. As per your instructions, your patient will be physically undamaged after her treatment. You'd be surprised at how much the human body can take." "And how much has she taken?" "Ordinarily, I wouldn't administer more than two quarts, but given Annabel's circumstances, I'm giving her a gallon." As the sharp stabs in her stomach increased in frequency, Annabel emitted a gargled cry. A gallon of water inside me? Utterly defenseless, Annabel could only listen to the repetitive hiss of the hand-pump as the evil little doctor filled up her bowels. "There," Dr. Schafer said briskly. "That should do it." Annabel gasped as the tube was pulled roughly out of her. Before she had a chance to eject any of the water however, she felt another hard object replace it, and she emitted another moan of disapproval as her anus was abruptly plugged again. The spasms and flashes of pain were constant now, and Annabel instinctively strained to relieve herself, but unable to expel the foreign object, the huge enema remained inside her body. Incapacitated by her bonds, Annabel could only gurgle in pain when Nurse Ingle reached under her body and gently squeezed her enlarged stomach. "We'll leave it in there for while so that she's thoroughly cleaned out," Dr. Schafer said to his nurse. "Now help me lift her up so that we can check for lactation."  Chapter Forty-One As they levered Annabel backwards into a kneeling position, Darius blinked in wonderment. He could hardly believe what they had done to her once-gorgeous body. In addition to the temporary contortion of her facial features, she now looked as though she was in the early stages of pregnancy! Nurse Ingle went over to the kitchen unit and returned with two glass cylinders which were connected by a plastic tube and a small battery-operated vacuum pump. Annabel seemed to be totally preoccupied by the pressure in her distended belly as Nurse Ingle placed the cylinders over her nipples while Dr. Schafer switched on the pump. As it buzzed into life, Annabel's already prominent pink nubs were rapidly sucked into the vacuum, stretching them out to over an inch in length. Dr. Schafer leaned in close before announcing, "No sign of lactation. I'm increasing the suction." He twisted the small dial on the pump, and the whirring noise became louder. More bestial ululations emanated from Annabel's throat as her breasts were pulled deeper into the cylinders, squeezing them into two misshapen tubes of white flesh. When Annabel still refused to provide milk, Dr. Schafer turned off the pump, but instead of pulling the glass cylinders off her squashed mammaries, he simply left them to dangle ludicrously on top of Annabel's bulging stomach. Darius raised his camera yet again to capture the depraved spectacle. The tormented girl was now emitting a continuous low gargling sound from the back of her throat. With her mouth and nose stretched out of shape, her stomach obscenely swollen, her elongated, tubular tits encased in the hanging cylinders, and her arms and legs bent double, she looked absolutely and delightfully ridiculous! * Annabel was so intent upon her efforts to expel the plug from her anus, that it wasn't until Dr. Schafer and Nurse Ingle maneuvered her off the table that she realized they had removed her arm and leg bindings. She stood on wobbly legs, the glass suction cylinders swinging to and fro, and her bloated stomach jiggling, while she awaited the next part of her ordeal. The aching in her open jaws, the constant tugging of the hooks in her nostrils, the constriction of her crushed breasts, all paled into insignificance compared with the incessant cramping in her abdomen. Her bowels were pushing of their own accord now, and she instinctively reached around to grab at whatever was obstructing her anus -- only to have her hand slapped away by Nurse Ingle. Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 04 "We'll just take a few measurements now," Dr. Schafer informed his small audience. Oh, please! I really need to go to the bathroom! Why won't you let me go? Disregarding Annabel's obvious state of agitation, for the next few minutes, Dr. Schafer ran a tape measure over every conceivable part of Annabel's naked body. Her arms and legs, her back, her hips, the length of her feet, the circumference of her thighs, the dimensions of her contorted face, her newly increased waistline, even the extended length of her glass-encased breasts, were all measured and then recorded on a clipboard by Nurse Ingle. Throughout it all, Annabel found it increasingly difficult to keep still, and was compelled to clamp her knees together and wiggle her ass as her internal discomfort intensified. Nurse Ingle then placed a set of bathroom scales on the floor and Annabel obediently stepped up onto them. Her thoughts were far from rational now, but she hoped that the quicker she complied with their instructions, the sooner they would allow her to relieve the pressure in her bowels. While she stood awkwardly on the scales, Dr. Schafer stooped to read her weight. "A hundred and twenty-eight pounds." Even through her agony, the number instantly registered with Annabel. She had always been obsessed with her weight and checked it daily -- and for the past three years, she had never been an ounce over one-twenty. There is eight pounds of water swilling around inside me! she thought despairingly. What must I look like? As he had done on so many other occasions, Nash seemed to read her thoughts, because he raised the camera to her face so that she could see the display screen. Annabel let out a warbled cry of dismay as she stared in horror at the monstrosity that she had been transformed into. Her nose was a turned-up snout, and her mouth was stretched into an enormous yawning grin that exposed every single one of her small white teeth. Her normally pear-shaped breasts had been contorted into two pale sausages, capped with long, pink nipples. But the source of the bulk of her discomfort -- her obscenely bulging belly -- was what shocked her the most. How would she ever look normal again? Would she be able to fit into her own clothes? What about stretch marks? "Okay, I think we have enough data for now," Dr. Schafer said. "Now I want to check Annabel's strength and fitness. There will be more room if we go out into the yard. Nurse Ingle, would you be so kind as to bring the jump rope?" * Darius had seen Annabel go through her exercise and posing routine with Mrs. Craddock before, but even his perverted imagination couldn't have conjured up a scene like this. With Nurse Ingle on one side, and Mrs. Craddock with her crop on the other, Annabel tried her best to get her knees up as she swung the yellow rope under her legs. The only sounds in the secluded garden were Annabel's strangled breathing, the slapping of the glass cylinders encasing her breasts, and the gurgling of the water sloshing around inside her bouncing, swollen stomach. Copious amounts of drool splattered from her open mouth, and her beautiful hair flew up in an auburn spray behind her head as she laboriously skipped over the rope. Darius couldn't take his eyes off Annabel's enlarged stomach as it wobbled and shook with her jumping. The absurd glass cylinders that tightly imprisoned her squashed tits flailed around insanely, banging against Annabel's face on each upward motion. Occasionally the unfortunate girl was forced to stop when the rope became entangled around her feet, but each time she would immediately receive a sharp crack across the buttocks from Mrs. Craddock's crop. After about ten minutes, Dr. Schafer called a halt to the exercise and instructed Annabel to turn around and bend over. Her body heaving and sheened with sweat, Annabel wearily complied, giving them all a clear view of the black rubber plug jammed inside her asshole, and below it, the succulent petals of pink flesh nestled between her thighs. Dr. Schafer took hold of the butt-plug's little handle and after some twisting and tugging, plucked it out of her body. Immediately, a dribble of soap water followed, accompanied by a mournful groan emanating from Annabel's other end. "Turn around, put your hands behind your head, and give me twenty squats," Dr. Schafer said. There was no hesitation from the distraught girl now, and as she dropped down into the undignified pose, a line of discolored water spurted between her legs onto the lawn. As she straightened up, she let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Up and down she went, and each time she lowered herself into a crouch, more soapy water was purged from her bowels. Her four tormentors watched in silent pleasure at Annabel's liquid evacuations, as with each ejection, her face turned a deeper shade of scarlet. This was the most intimate of bodily functions, but due to the intensity of her suffering she was performing it in front of them quite readily. After five deliciously heady minutes, the eruptions from Annabel's anus diminished to a trickle down the insides of her thighs. She stood upright, knees shaking, hands still clasped behind her head, and tears of shame rolling down her flushed cheeks. Dr. Schafer broke the silence. "Nurse Ingle, would you please hold the patient steady while I remove the suction cups?" Darius looked on in utter delight as the nurse moved behind Annabel and locked her arms tightly around her. Dr. Schafer then hooked his fingers into the two glass rings situated at the bottom of the cylinders and pulled backwards. With Nurse Ingle holding her in place, Annabel's breasts were stretched even further as the cylinders resisted relinquishing their tight grip on them. Gradually, her distorted teats eased free of the glass, and then with an embarrassingly loud pop, they sprang free. Dr. Schafer staggered backwards and Darius had to put out his hand to stop him falling onto his ass. "I think that will do for today," Dr. Schafer said. "Nurse Ingle, would you please remove Annabel's mouth and nose restraints? And then perhaps you and Mrs. Craddock can take her upstairs for a bath."  Chapter Forty-Two Helen Parker still could not believe her eyes as she scrolled through the images on her i-pad for the tenth time. She was simply unable to reconcile the humble and shamefaced girl in the pictures with the haughty, self-assured Annabel that she had known and envied for the past five years. Periodically, she paused the slideshow in order to more closely examine some of the images that particularly grabbed her attention. As incredulous as they were, she also found them strangely exciting. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a titter when she came to the series of Annabel in her brown-stained panties. Then there were the shots of her exercising and posing in a leotard that was way too small for her womanly curves. And the absurdly comical faces she was pulling! She stopped at a picture of Annabel strapped into a chair, stark naked, with a rubber hood covering the top half of her face, and with her mouth stuffed with a pair of panties. Helen had never seen Annabel nude before, and she was shocked at how aroused the image made her feel. She closed the file and gazed out of the French window across the lawn to the pool. The maid had finished setting up the outside bar, the barbecue was ready to go, and extra garden furniture had been arranged on the patio. Helen's pool parties were always good fun, but she was eagerly awaiting this one with far more excitement than usual. When Darius Nash had unexpectedly messaged her earlier in the week, she had initially ignored him. It was only when he had explained that he was now Annabel's legal guardian and that he had a proposition that would be of benefit to both of them, that she had cautiously replied. After several more communications, including the selection of photos that he had entrusted her with, they had come to an agreement. It seemed that Nash was keen to isolate Annabel from her former circle of friends, but of far greater interest to Helen, that he particularly wanted to end her relationship with Bobby. He had also been insightful enough to figure out that although Helen was keen to move in on Bobby, he still only had eyes for Annabel. Nash's proposed solution had had Helen licking her lips in anticipation. She had always harbored a private jealous grudge against Annabel because she had always been the center of attention wherever she went. But after tonight, if Nash delivered on his promise, Annabel's reputation would be destroyed beyond repair -- and Bobby would be so repulsed by her behavior that he would be certain to fall straight into Helen's arms! * Considering Mrs. Craddock's usual exacting standards, Annabel's day had been surprisingly relaxed. After showering and dressing in her skimpy maid's outfit, she had prepared and served Nash's breakfast and then spent the rest of the morning doing light housework. Thankfully, she had seen little of Nash, who had been mostly ensconced in his study. In the three days since her demented medical exam, to Annabel's relief her body had reverted back to its original shape. Her stomach was as flat and toned as before her ordeal, with no indication of the hideous bloating induced by Dr. Schafer's awful enema, and her face was as beautiful as ever. Evidently, Nash intended to keep his word that she would suffer no permanent physical side-effects resulting from her depraved punishments -- but he had not made any guarantees about the psychological damage. As she went about her lowly chores, the nightmarish scenes from the strip poker night now mingled with the memory of the medical exam, and together they spun constantly around in her head. Something else had happened to her as well -- in all her years growing up at Pemberton Hall, she had spent many an hour in front of her mirror, vainly brushing her long red tresses, and checking her face for the slightest of blemishes. Now however, whenever she caught sight of her reflection, she would quickly look away -- not because her appearance was any less appealing, but because she simply couldn't face herself anymore. This self-loathing was a new and desolate emotion, and she wondered miserably if it would remain with her long after she had said good-riddance to Nash and his disgusting acquaintances. Not long after lunch, Mrs. Craddock interrupted Annabel's dark ruminations by calling her upstairs for a bath. * Darius closed Annabel's Sony laptop, satisfied that in Helen Parker he had found a new ally. During the course of their electronic conversations, Darius had ascertained that not only was Helen totally enamored with Bobby, but that there was also no love lost between her and Annabel either. In fact, it seemed that throughout their years together at senior high and after, Annabel had been the only girl capable of getting the better of Helen, which she had done with regularity. Helen was beautiful, but Annabel was stunning. Helen was popular, but Annabel was the center of attention. All the boys were attracted to Helen, but they absolutely worshipped Annabel. Annabel had been the Prom Queen, Annabel had been the head cheerleader, Annabel had dated the best-looking boy in school -- and if Annabel hadn't been there, Helen would have had all of those things. But thanks to Darius, that was all about to change. Not only was he was giving Helen the opportunity to steal Annabel's boyfriend, but also to eliminate her from their social scene forever. He realized that he had taken a huge risk by involving an outsider, but if it went to plan, Annabel's world would continue to shrink until the only person that mattered was her lord and master -- Darius Nash. "Mr. Nash, Annabel is ready for her inspection," Mrs. Craddock said from behind him. Darius swiveled around in his chair and smiled contentedly. Annabel was dressed in the same clothes he had selected on her first day here -- the undersized grey blouse with band collar, black pleated flannel skirt, white ankle socks, and buckle-down flats. Perfect! With her hair tied in bunches, it was just the geeky, bland look he wanted her to present to her trendy pals! There was one other refinement he had asked Mrs. Craddock to attend to, however. "Come here, sweetheart," he crooned. Head down, the blushing girl shuffled forward, and very slowly, Darius raised the hem of her skirt, and then took in a sharp breath of delight. After her bath, Mrs. Craddock had shaved her pubes, and as per his instructions, she now wore no underwear. Darius gazed adoringly at her sumptuously smooth vulva before gently caressing it with his finger tips. Annabel gasped at his touch and raised her head, but didn't pull away. A good sign. Her resistance is gradually weakening. "What a pretty little snatch," he said, lowering her skirt, and her blushes deepened. "Now today you are going to be given a special treat. But before we leave, I want you to sit down and type a message to your friend, Bobby." Annabel glanced anxiously at her laptop on Darius' desk. "Bobby?" "Yes. I'm afraid you've got some rather bad news for him."  Chapter Forty-Three Alastair Barclay could hardly contain his excitement as he knocked on Nash's front door for the second time in a week. After Annabel's deflowering the previous weekend, he had gone back to his duties at Pemberton Hall in somewhat ambivalent mood. On the one hand, he had fulfilled a lifelong sexual fantasy. He had had the pleasure of watching Annabel being wickedly taken down from her lofty perch, and had then actually mounted her from behind and deposited his seed inside her womb! When it had been time for his goodbye kiss, the wretched girl had hardly been able to look him in the eye! But during the following days, an emptiness had descended upon him which he had been unable to shake off. His all-too-brief sexual liaison with the stuff of his dreams had left him aching for more. He had paid Nash handsomely for the heady experience and was quite willing to do so again. The problem was that the old reprobate seemed to have a detailed and carefully structured program laid out for Annabel's ruin, and whoever she saw, and whatever she did, was entirely down to his discretion. This meant that when Alastair had eagerly inquired as to when she would next be available, the miserable swine had refused to commit himself. So for the next six days, Alastair had been in a state of constant agitation, once more reduced to masturbating himself to sleep -- albeit with a souvenir collection of photos on his computer to help stimulate his memories of that wonderful strip poker night. Then, out of the blue, Nash had called him, outlining his plan for Annabel's public shaming in front of her friends, and asking if Alastair would be willing to help him add some authenticity to his charade. Wouldn't he just! The door swung open and there she was, dressed up in a drab blouse and skirt ensemble complete with flat heels. What a comedown for the fashionable young miss! Her friends were going to be totally shocked at her new unstylish look! Nash appeared behind her, greeted Alastair, and handed him a plastic beach bag. When Alastair hesitated, Nash said," Please understand that it's important for you to revert back to your former role as Annabel's manservant today. I have given her precise instructions regarding her behavior, so all you have to do is follow my lead." This just gets better and better! I can pretend to be her considerate butler again, but she will never be able to ignore the fact that she submitted to me on her hands and knees like a bitch in heat! Alastair carried the bag to his waiting vehicle and opened the passenger door. "Miss Annabel," he smirked at the desolate girl. "If you please." * "I'm so glad you decided to come, Bobby," Helen purred, handing the handsome young sports jock a cold Schlitz. Laying on his sunlounger in his tight Speedos, Bobby smiled weakly, although Helen did observe his eyes lingering on her breasts as she pointedly leant over him -- she had deliberately chosen her skimpiest two-piece, which left little to the imagination. The last thing she wanted was competition from Alisha and Samantha, who were currently frolicking in the pool with Josh. Along with Trent, who was contentedly barbecuing their burgers and steaks, they were all single, and she hoped that they might pair off as the alcohol flowed. Drew and Chelsea, her other two guests, were already dating, and were so hot for each other that they would almost certainly retire to one of the spare bedrooms before the party was over. "I nearly didn't," Bobby replied. "I still can't believe she broke up with me like that. Everything was going so well." "Sometimes you just don't know people," Helen said, putting her hand on Bobby's thigh. He glanced at her hand but didn't move it away, and she winked at him. "Who is this other guy, anyway?" asked Drew from across the patio. "She said he's her new guardian, whatever that means," Bobby said bitterly. "She's been living with him for the past two weeks." "I thought she went overseas." "Yeah, so did I," Bobby snorted. Helen sighed. "If she lied to you about that, she was probably lying about her feelings for you as well." "I feel like such a jerk!" said Bobby. "Are you sure you don't mind my inviting her? She sounded quite keen to show off her new... boyfriend." "No, I've got to see this with my own eyes. She could have at least had the guts to tell me to my face." "Well," Helen said, looking over his shoulder and across the lawn. "Now's her chance, because here they come." * As they approached the poolside patio, Darius' earlier misgivings about attending this party were somewhat mitigated by the sight of the four bikini-clad young ladies who were now watching himself, Barclay, and Annabel with great interest -- as far as he was concerned, the four boys in attendance may as well not have existed. My, my, what a bevy of beauties! Wouldn't they look just lovely crawling around naked and ashamed in my little house? Helen, a curvy blonde whom he recognized from her internet photos, was sitting next to a well-built young guy, who he assumed must be Bobby. From their close proximity, it looked as though she was already working on him. Clever girl! When macho Bobby sees Annabel fawning all over me, he will be sure to rebound off Helen to restore his battered ego! Back in his study, Annabel had initially balked at sending Bobby his 'Dear John' message, and it had taken a few minutes of threatening and cajoling before she had sadly typed it out. Then he had given her a detailed description of the role she was to play when they got to Helen's house -- with a reminder of the grim consequences if she should fail to perform. She had listened with growing disbelief, before bursting into tears and whining, "But I'll be the laughing stock!" "That may be," Darius had said. "But you know what will happen if you disobey me. Think about it. When your year is up, you'll have more money than all of them put together. Perhaps after today, your so-called friends might ostracize you. So what? You can always get new friends. But if you don't go through with this, everything you have endured so far will be for nothing." Now, as they crossed the manicured lawn, Darius whispered, "Take my hand." He reached out and grasped air, and turning, saw that Annabel was standing stock-still a couple of yards behind himself and Barclay, with a look of absolute terror on her face. "Annabel!" Darius hissed. "Do I have to go over this again?" Dressed in her insipid, unfashionable outfit, Annabel whimpered, "I can't do this! Not in front of my friends!" Darius wondered uneasily if she really had finally reached her limit. He was ninety-nine percent sure that having come this far, she would find the fortitude to continue. However, although she had somehow dredged up the resolve to weather the degradations he had heaped upon her within the privacy of his home, this was something altogether different. Her reputation was about to be publicly annihilated -- which he had initially promised her would not happen. By moving the goalposts, there was now a possibility that he might lose everything he had accomplished with her so far. Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 04 "Think about our conversation, Annabel," Darius said carefully. "Friends come and go, but your inheritance is forever." Annabel's knees were shaking and her cheeks had again turned their now-familiar bright red. Darius held out his hand again. "So, what's it going to be?" With a final moan of despair, Annabel put her trembling fingers into the palm of Darius' hand, and they walked to the patio.  Chapter Forty-Four Annabel wished the ground would open up and swallow her as Helen stood to greet them. All of the select members of her inner sanctum were here -- the beautiful crowd whom she had permitted to associate with her! She had always, in a condescending way, accepted them as her friends, but now they looked anything but genial as they each regarded her unattractive, elderly boyfriend, and her peculiar get-up with a mixture of shock and distaste. The only person smiling was that jealous bitch Helen, and why wouldn't she be? Bobby was sure to have told them about Annabel's message by now. Bobby! Annabel glanced at him nervously, and was devastated to see the look of utter contempt in his eyes. Realizing that she was still holding Nash's hand, she tried to pull away, but he gripped her tighter, and so she stood unhappily beside him as they made their introductions. "Mr. Nash," Helen stood and offered her hand. "It's very nice to meet you." "And you too, Helen. Please call me Darius." Through her tortured haze, Annabel picked up something complicit in the way they spoke to each other -- and then it suddenly hit her that this whole thing was a set up. She knows! Nash has told her about our arrangement, and she's going to use it to get Bobby! "Annabel, honey, how are you? We've all been so worried," Helen said. Annabel stiffened, but sensing Nash watching her, forced a feeble smile. "I'm fine thank you, Helen." Helen greeted Barclay, and then introduced everyone else. Despite her efforts at joviality, there was a noticeable tension in the air, and the awkward silence was broken when Bobby suddenly snapped, "This guy, Annabel? You dumped me for him?" Annabel looked around at them all hopelessly. She desperately wanted to tell them the truth. Surely they must realize that there was no way on earth she could have fallen for a revolting old man like Nash. But they were all awaiting her answer, and mournfully she knew that there was only one she could give. Feeling just two feet high, she mumbled, "Yes Bobby. I'm sorry, but I love him." Another astounded silence followed, during which Bobby's eyes angrily flitted from Annabel's face to Nash's and back again. "This is bullshit!" he snarled. "I'm out of here!" As he stormed off, Helen chased after him, shouting, "Bobby! Wait up!" Nash cleared his throat and said, "Perhaps coming here wasn't such a good idea. We should go." When nobody immediately objected, Nash squeezed Annabel's fingers painfully, and remembering the ground rules, she asked, "Please can we stay?" * Alastair was inwardly delighted at the drama that was unfolding before him. He had had the pleasure of waiting upon all of these obnoxious brats at some time or another at Pemberton Hall, and they had all treated him in the same offhand manner that Annabel had. How he wished that Nash could find a way to lure them into his depraved world of sexual humiliation -- or the girls, at least. Surreptitiously checking them out, he once more felt a stirring in his nether regions as he visualized them being put through their paces by Nash and his wicked housekeeper. They were all extremely attractive girls -- Chelsea, dark-haired, slender, and pert-breasted; Alisha, a stunning African-American, with almond-shaped eyes and enormous breasts that strained at her bikini-top; and Samantha, her platinum-dyed hair cropped short, a diamond stud in her navel, and legs that went on forever. The three boys, Trent, Drew, and Josh, all looked as though they had stepped out of the pages of a glossy magazine too, and it was Trent who spoke first. "Hey man, look, if Helen invited you, then pull up a seat. What's your poison?" "Well if you're sure there won't be a problem...?" Nash said, and Alastair grinned inwardly. The devious old bastard is certainly a good actor! "Nah!" Trent moved behind the makeshift bar. "Helen will calm Bobby down." "Okay then," Nash said cautiously. "But Annabel is a little overdressed. Is there somewhere she can change into her swimsuit?" "There's a bathroom through those French windows. Can't miss it." "Barclay," Nash said. "Would you please escort Annabel to the bathroom?" "Of course, Mr. Nash," Alastair said. "After you, Miss Annabel." Alastair found it difficult to keep a straight face as he led the red-faced girl into the house -- with everybody except Nash watching them in shocked amazement. * "So how did you two guys, um... get together?" Alisha asked, eyeing Darius suspiciously as he sipped his drink. "As I explained to Helen," Darius said, "Annabel's aunt has hired me to supervise her for a year." "Yeah, but why?" asked Drew. Darius cleared his throat, feigning uneasiness. "Well, as you probably know, Annabel is due to inherit a sizeable trust fund when she comes of age, and her aunt is afraid that she is too... immature to handle that sort of money. My job is to, shall we say, guide her in the right direction." Trent, who had returned to the grill, said, "Got to say, the old lady's got a point." "Please," Samantha said to him. "Like you are all grown up!" "Yeah, but I'm not going to become a rich bitch without having to work for it." "What I don't understand," said Chelsea, "is how much she has changed! It doesn't make any sense. I mean, Annabel was always the life and soul of the party, but she hardly said a word just now! And those awful clothes!" "Yeah, like what have you been doing to her, man?" asked Josh, and Darius was sure he detected a hint of amusement in the young man's tone. In fact, he had been watching them all very closely since they had first laid eyes on the 'new' Annabel, trying to gauge exactly what they really felt about her. During his hours spent eavesdropping on their internet conversations, he had picked up more than a couple of caustic remarks regarding her prior arrogance and vanity, which had given him a slight indication that they might just be enticed into becoming willing accomplices in her downfall. "Actually, I was asked to instill in her a sense of responsibility and discipline, and I was surprised at how quickly she has accepted her new position." He leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial voice. "In fact, I have discovered that she actually enjoys being told what to do." "So you told her to say she was in love with you?" asked Alisha. "Oh no, not at all. But I suspect that this infatuation is a by-product of her newly discovered desire to be controlled." "So let me get this straight," said Drew. "Somehow, you have awakened some deeply hidden submissive yearnings in her, and she gets turned on by being ordered around?" "As bizarre as it sounds, that is correct," Darius said. For Alisha's benefit, he added, "The reason I am telling you all of this, is so that you won't be taken by surprise by her behavior today. I would greatly appreciate it if you would all pretend to go along with her somewhat kinky games." "Annabel, taking orders?" laughed Samantha. "I can't wait to see this!" Darius leaned back happily, as his suspicions were finally confirmed. This group of spoiled brats were like hyenas! Their so-called friendships were just a façade to mask the bitter rivalry that festered below the surface. If he had calculated correctly -- and he usually did -- by the time this little gathering was in full swing, the girls would be wallowing in Annabel's misery, and the boys would be getting to know her a lot more intimately than they had ever dreamed of!  Chapter Forty-Five When they reached the bathroom door, Annabel went to take the beach bag from Barclay but he made no effort to release it. Belatedly understanding his intention, Annabel said, "There's no need for you to come in with me." "Is that so?" Barclay whispered. "Don't make the mistake of believing this play-acting, missy. The rules have changed now, and don't you forget it. I fucked you last week, and I'm going to keep on fucking you for as long as Darius allows it. So you can drop your pretenses and do exactly as I say, or I will inform Darius of your misbehavior immediately!" Barclay's outburst was so unexpected, that Annabel could only stare at him incredulously. She had come to accept Nash and Mrs. Craddock's authority, but it had never occurred to her that she would be taking orders from her former manservant! During her long session in Nash's study before they had left, Nash had given her a set of rules to abide by. One of them, heartbreakingly, was to shun Bobby at all times, and to make it obvious to one and all that she absolutely doted on Nash. She had also been instructed not to initiate any conversation, and to answer any questions briefly, without in any way indicating that she was acting against her will. The most perplexing instruction however, was that she was to comply with any request given to her by anybody unless Nash indicated otherwise. She couldn't possibly imagine any of her friends wanting her to do anything for them, so she didn't fully understand the point. But now, here was Barclay, rudely telling her that he would be joining her in the bathroom! If she refused, then she would be technically breaking Nash's rules! Forlornly, she turned and went into the bathroom and Barclay followed, locking the door behind them. * Even though he had already once had the pleasure of enjoying Annabel's lovely body, Alastair could not suppress a shiver of excitement as his prey stood timidly before him. Unlike at the poker night, this time he was in control. He didn't want to arouse everyone's suspicions by taking too long, so he got straight to it. "Okay, Miss Annabel, lets get you out of your clothes." After a brief delay, Annabel started to turn away, but he said, "Uh-uh, young lady. Facing me, and no covering yourself with your hands either." Alastair watched rapturously as once again, the object of his desire began to undress in front of him. First she stepped out of her shoes, and then slowly rolled down her ankle socks. When her legs and feet were bare, she hesitated, but then unbuttoned the blouse and shrugged it over her shoulders. To Alastair's surprise and delight, she wasn't wearing a bra. She managed to stop herself from covering her succulent nipples, before undoing her skirt and then allowing it to drop to the floor. She straightened up in front of him, arms at her sides, and eyes lowered. Alastair stared in amazement at her freshly shaven mound. "My goodness, Annabel," he breathed. "Your 'lady garden' has gone! Well, lets have a look at what we've got for you in here." He rummaged in the bag until he found her swimming costume and held it up for them both to inspect. Annabel's face immediately fell, while Alastair's broke out into a wicked grin. Darius had done himself proud yet again by selecting a black micro bikini that was clearly way too small to accommodate Annabel's generous bust! "Here you are," he said, handing it to the stricken girl. In spite of her obvious qualms, it was marginally better than being naked, and she didn't waste any time squeezing into the snug outfit. She pulled the skimpy g-string up between her legs and tied the strings, and although the tiny triangle of lycra just about covered her smoothly shaven vulva, its shape was clearly defined. She took a lot longer wrestling her sizeable breasts into the bikini top, and try as she might, it proved impossible to get them all in, leaving two half-moons of flesh exposed underneath the material. "You look delightful," Alastair mocked the shamefaced girl. "Now you are ready to go out and play with your friends." Annabel glanced anxiously at the door, her expression making it clear that that was the last thing she wanted to do in this revealing little ensemble! Well, no problem, there was something that Alastair badly needed from her first anyway. Without preamble, he unzipped his fly and produced his erect member. Annabel's eyes automatically flickered down before she quickly looked away again. "Please, Barclay," she said. "Don't make me do this." "Come on, it's not like you haven't had it in your mouth before," he said. Evidently realizing that resistance was futile, Annabel dropped to her knees, and then Alastair placed his hands on her head as she squeamishly wrapped her lips around his penis for the second time in her life. * Annabel immediately detected a palpable change in the air when they re-emerged on the back patio. There had been a stilted atmosphere earlier as her friends had tried to process Annabel's uncharacteristically humble demeanor and bizarre attire. But in the fifteen minutes or so that she had been in the bathroom with Barclay, it looked, to her dismay, as though they were actually warming to Nash, and everyone was chatting quite freely now. She was still trying not to throw up after having just swallowed Barclay's semen. If anything, it had been even more unpleasant than their public coupling on the strip poker night. At least then he had seemed entranced by her. This time he had guided her movements by roughly manipulating her head back and forth, and on several occasions, holding his hot, hard penis deep inside her throat until she had been forced to frantically slap his thighs to get him to release her. That hideous memory was receding rapidly now as they approached the pool deck. How could she possibly let them see her in this revealing get-up? On the way over, she had tried to prepare herself for the coming ordeal. Her friends, the very people whom she had lorded it over for the past five years, were going to watch her being treated like a retarded bimbo! In spite of her addled and wretched state of mind, she had managed to remind herself that deep-down, she really didn't care about them, and that when this nightmare was over, she would at least be able to start anew somewhere else. But right now, that counted for little as Samantha looked up and gasped, "Oh, my God!" All heads turned as one, each with an initial expression of shock that was quickly replaced by undisguised amusement. Her cheeks on fire, Annabel now understood that nobody was going to come to her rescue. All of those years of arrogant boasting and one-upmanship were going to come back and haunt her with a vengeance. And yet, as much as she longed to curl up and die on the spot, some unknown force propelled her forward to face her ultimate humiliation.  Chapter Forty-Six As Annabel walked stiffly towards them in her undersized two-piece, Darius discreetly observed the reactions of her peers. After their initial surprise, they were now wearing fascinated grins on their faces, except for the beautiful black girl, Alisha, who stared open-mouthed at Annabel and said, "What in God's name are you almost wearing?" Annabel came to a halt and stood awkwardly beside Darius' sunlounger. As per his instructions she was trying to keep a sweet smile on her face, but he could see the anguish in her eyes. He wanted her to feel humiliated of course, but his main objective was to create the impression that Annabel was behaving this way of her own free will. Her friends must have suspected that he had some kind of a hold over her, but if Darius was reading their faces correctly, they seemed prepared to overlook their suspicions so that they could enjoy the forthcoming show. The only person who appeared dubious was Alisha, but as long as Annabel remembered her lines, there really wasn't anything she could do about it. "I picked it out for her," Darius said. "Couldn't you at least have chosen something that fits?" asked Chelsea incredulously. "I believe that a beautiful body like Annabel's deserves to be on show," Darius said. "And Annabel agrees, don't you, dear?" Annabel maintained her fragile smile and meekly nodded. He patted his thigh and said, "Sit down, my dear." Her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of crimson, Annabel lowered her pretty ass and settled onto Darius' lap. He put his arms around her waist and, after a brief hesitation, she responded by draping her left arm around his shoulder. "If you give me a kiss, I'll let you have a soda. Would you like that?" Darius said. Annabel nodded again, and haltingly tilted her head until their lips touched. Darius opened his mouth and, as a confirmation of their intimate relationship, pushed his tongue between Annabel's lips. He felt her instinctively try to pull away, but he gripped her waist firmly until she eventually yielded her mouth to his. Her breath was hot in his throat as their tongues met, and his dick sprang to attention under her buttocks. When they finally broke apart, Darius said, "Well? What do you have to say?" She looked into his eyes pleadingly, but Darius wasn't going to let her off the hook. "Annabel, remember your manners." She drew a trembling breath and said, "Thank you for my kiss, Mr. Nash." * Trent spat a mouthful of beer onto the patio. "Mr. Nash?" "We've decided that Annabel should always address her elders in a respectful manner," Nash said. "She has confided in me that she missed having an authority figure around when she was growing up, and I am more than happy to fill that role if she so wishes." "She never mentioned anything like this before," Alisha said. "Well, as I explained earlier, we've unearthed a number of deeply concealed idiosyncrasies in her personality over the past couple of weeks." Listening to the unfolding conversation, Alastair was quite impressed at what a skilled manipulator Nash was proving to be. He had even managed to lure the skeptical Alisha into talking about Annabel as if she wasn't even there! Meanwhile Annabel's face was a masterpiece as she struggled to preserve the brainless grin on her lips while her pretense at loving happiness was being betrayed by the constant blush in her cheeks and the look of sheer mortification in her eyes. Surely her friends must have spotted her contradictory expression -- so why hadn't anybody mentioned it? Alastair had spent many an hour serving drinks and snacks to these kids at Pemberton Hall, and he had often wondered what they really thought of Annabel as she had shown off in her fabulous home. Whether they bought any part of Nash's story or not, it looked as though the were becoming aware of an opportunity here to bring the mighty Miss Annabel down from her high-horse with a resounding bump -- a fall from which she would never recover! There was something else noticeable about Annabel's body language as she sat on Nash's lap -- the absurdly small bikini top was losing its battle to protect her ample breasts, and the twin bulges of flesh underneath were slowly escaping their confinement. Annabel must have been all too aware of this, because Alastair noticed that she was unsuccessfully trying to free her arm from around Nash's neck. All too soon, her nipples would be ready to reveal themselves, and a quick glance around the patio confirmed that the rest of the boys were surreptitiously awaiting that exquisite moment too! Whilst observing this subtle interplay, Alastair had tuned out of the dialogue, but his musings were rudely interrupted when somebody behind him exclaimed, "You have got to be shitting me!" Looking around, he discovered that Helen had managed to persuade Bobby to return to the party. * Trent handed Annabel a glass of cola with a pink drinking straw. "Here you go. Are you sure you don't want something stronger?."