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The Slave’s Roommate

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Jack was half shaft deep in Sara’s ass when he paused to admire his handiwork. Sara was standing, bent over her bed with her head mashed into a pile of pillows. Her jeans and panties were bunched around her ankles, leaving her standing in a precarious toddle. They were both breathing heavily, and there were several red hand prints across the tan flesh of Sara’s ass.

“Who owns this ass?” Jack demanded, spanking it again for emphasis.

She clenched her cheeks around his cock. It felt amazing. “You are! Oh god, you are – you own my ass, Master!” Sara yelled back, her voice not the slightest bit muffled by the bed.

Jack felt elated, it was so fucking hot when she called him that. He resumed his steady pumping, sliding his cock in and out of her greased puckered hole. “That’s right I do,” he said, huskily. “And I can fuck it any time I please. You’re just my little whore – my little anal whore.”

“Oh!” Sara gasped shrilly as Jack slammed into her with particular force, his balls slapping wetly against her juicy gash. “Say it!” he demanded, grabbing the skin of the back of her leg and pinching it.

“OwwwwAhhhh” Sara yelled, “I’m your anal whore!”

Jack pushed his way fully inside her, paused, and pinched her again, even harder. “No, say the whole thing,” he commanded.

“I’m your little anal whoooooooore!” Sara yelled, forcing her hips back against his, trying to drive him even further inside her. Jack smiled, licked his fingertips and bent over her. His fingers sought her right nipple, and when he found it he pinched down, twisting. “Ahhhhhh!” Sara yelled again, starting to come.


Just feet away through the thin, cheap wall Nichole sat on her toilet masturbating. Though no one could see her she for some reason found this particularly humiliating, to be so moved by her roommate’s lovemaking as to be moved to self-abuse. But the things she said! “I’m your little anal whore?” Nichole couldn’t hear whatever had prompted that, but how humiliating it must have been to say the words! And what were they doing? She could hear the bed crashing against the wall which was a dead giveaway that they were fucking, but did that really mean… was he fucking her ass? Was Sara the kind of girl who would even allow that to happen? The thought of her proper, studious roommate doing something so… filthy sent a wave of pleasure shooting through Nichole, and she heard herself give off a little yelp of a moan. Nichole couldn’t bear the thought that someone might hear her, so she brought her shirt up to her mouth and stuffed the end in, biting down hard. She worked harder on her pussy. Did Jack have a tiny penis which made it somehow bearable? Or was Sara being split in two by a monster cock? The later image sprung to mind, Jack with a giant, inhuman dick driving it mercilessly into Sara’s – exposed? Proffered? – ass. Nichole’s heart beat in her ears, but she could hear them again, Jack this time. “That’s right, bitch, take my cock.” It excited Nichole even more to hear her friend’s boyfriend talk to her that way. She must be getting fucked like a bitch, on her hands and knees with Jack behind. A vivid image popped into her mind of the two of them fucking, and she felt herself start to come. Though she clenched her teeth as firmly as she could, Nichole could hear a loud roaring coming from somewhere, though definitely not from her.

An hour later Jack and Sara left the apartment, to where they didn’t say. Nichole waited carefully by the window until she saw his car head down the road. At last she was alone. She snuck into Sara’s room, her heat pounding from the illicit nature of what she was doing. Nichole didn’t care, she had to know what they had been doing. The room was a mess, with the bed the center of the chaos. The sheets were tossed off to the side, and the fitted sheet had been pulled off of the mattress in one corner. Nichole’s eyes focused on three tiny spots partially hidden by the comforter. She moved the blanket, careful so that she could replace it exactly as it had been. The three dots turned out to be the smallest corner of what was a giant, milky stain. It gave off a faint scent, and Nichole felt herself compelled to lower her head to the stain and inhale deeply. The smell struck some kind of a nerve. Nichole was still a virgin, and her nerves blazed at the sudden realization that this was what sex smelled like. She felt her gash moisten. This was it, this was the thrill she was invading her roommate’s privacy for. She had to find more. She carefully replaced the comforter and looked about the rest of the room. There was nothing on the desk but Sara’s computer. Nichole felt a sudden urge to prowl there, but there was no saying how long that might take. Better to keep it where she could leave the room at the sound of a key to the front door. By the desk in the trash, she found three empty condom wrappers. Three times! She reached out to touch them but then remembered herself. Nichole searched the rest of the room but she found little else other than the disturbances left by moving bodies. When she realized that she was standing in the middle of the room mindlessly rubbing between the legs of her jeans Nichole forced herself to leave the room back to hers. This was hot, but… she wanted, no, she needed more. She needed to see them. Nichole returned to her room and tried as best she could to throw herself into her neglected homework, only slightly successfully.

Later that night

Jack returned to the apartment later that night, Sara staggering in tow. They’d been out downtown to a nice dinner, followed by some dancing at Sara’s favorite bar. They played Arabic music on Saturdays, so it had been wall to wall belly dancing women. Jack tried to keep up, just partially successfully as he judged himself. They’d had a good time but were both quite buzzed, sweaty and feeling alive. Well, Jack a bit more than Sara. She had drunk a bit more than her usual and was clearly showing it. On the cab ride home she had tried to get Jack to feel her up, something that despite his outward objections had not failed to get his blood up.

The apartment was dark, evidently Nichole had already gone to sleep. The two of them bee-lined for Sara’s bedroom, unintentionally making quite a racket. The second Jack entered something seemed a bit amiss to him. His eyes swiftly played over the room. The bathroom door had been closed more when they left, and the sheets had been slightly disturbed. In a blink his mind raced, Someone must have been in here he thought, and an instant later he settled on the only person it could possibly be. Humph Jack smiled inwardly, and when he shut the door after Sara he made sure to leave it ever so slightly ajar.

Sara was in a mood that needed sex. She stumbled forward onto the bed, then sat awkwardly looking Jack. “Jack, you need to control me, Jack,” Sara said, her eyes pleading. “I need it.” Jack smiled, feeling his cock grow in his pants. Her earnest need for his firm hand never failed to excite him. He crossed the distance between the two of them and stroked the side of Sara’s face. Calmly, he bunched her hair into a single ponytail at the back of her head, then gripped it firmly. Her eyes opened wide as he bent her head back so she looked up at him. Jack bent down into a long, sloppy kiss, then by her hair directed Sara up off the bed and onto the floor. She dropped to her knees, her breathing quickening.

“You were quite the slutty little whore tonight.” Jack said, his voice changing to be huskier, more demanding. “I saw you trying to show these off.” Jack palmed her chest with a rough twist. “And with these,” he said as he delivered a swift slap to her ass. It echoed loudly in the quiet room. Normally Sara would have winced at the noise but today she seemed too buzzed to care. She wasn’t too buzzed to miss reacting to the pain, and she looked at Jack, needful. “Now’s your chance to show them off. Strip.” Jack said.

At the request Sara motioned to rise but Jack stopped her with a sharp tug on her hair.

“No, you stay on the ground where you belong.”

“Yes, Master.” Sara said quietly, and turned to her work. She made short work of her top, pulling it over her head and tossing it carelessly away from her. Same with her bra. Jack smiled as he watched her try to wriggle out of her tight jeans, marveling at the pale tan flesh of her legs she exposed. Lastly she slid her panties down off of her legs, exposing to Jack’s hungry gaze the smooth skin of her mons and the lips of her pussy.

Jack felt his cock throb in his pants as he watched Sara resume her kneeling pose. Without ceremony Jack undid the catch of his belt and dropped his pants and boxers off of his body. His cock sprung free engorged and angry, and he again took Sara’s hair into his hand. “You’ve wanted to suck a cock all night, haven’t you, whore?” He asked, and guided her mouth onto his prick. Sara didn’t reply, she just opened her mouth and took him.

Nichole startled awake at the sound of someone knocking over their shoe rack. She grimaced in initial annoyance, until she remembered what her roommate had been up to, this of all weekends. Still, she remained in bed until she heard faintly through the sound of some kind of slap. She spent several, long moments in furious argument with herself, but in the end her prurient side won out. She had to see what they were doing, hearing wasn’t enough. Nichole crept out of her bed, and tried to soundlessly open her bedroom door. She winced at the faint squeak it made, but it was silent compared to the voices she could now hear from her roommate’s room. The main room of their apartment was pitch black, lit only by a faint shaft of light emerging from a crack in Sara’s bedroom door. Nichole was drawn to it like an addict. Her heart racing she found that the crack was just wide enough for her to see half the room when her face was pressed against it. She took this pose and stared, her eyes wide. Sara and Jack were positioned to present a perfect silhouette. Jack was standing and Sara was on her knees her head bobbing up and down on… on Jack’s cock. Nichole belatedly realized. She was watching her roommate suck off her boyfriend. She felt a tingle in her belly as she stared. It was nothing like she imagined. Jack’s hand was positioned at the back of Sara’s head, gripping her hair tight. He was pulling her onto and off of him, roughly fucking her mouth with what Nichole could now see was a large and erect prick. While she watched, she realized she could hear them too. “That’s right, you little bitch, suck it. Suck it, you cunt.” Nichole couldn’t believe that Jack was talking to Sara that way, much less that she was so submissively putting up to it. Without warning, Jack shoved Sara and she fell backwards, landing awkwardly on the floor. She hardly moved while Jack leisurely finished undressing. “On to the bed. Ass facing me.” Jack said, coldly. And Sara answered. What did she say? “Yes, Master.” Nichole thought she heard. Master! She called him her master? While Nichole goggled at this, Sara did as she was told, crawling to the bed and positioning herself on her hands and knees, her ass facing the door. Nichole realized she could see every part of Sara’s sex, from her clearly engorged pussy to her winking asshole. Nichole had never seen another woman nude before, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. It was so amazingly indecent, so… filthy. While she watched Jack finished contemplating Sara, and again approached her. He lovingly traced his fingertips up and down the crack of her ass, and Sara’s behind twitched when he passed over first her box, then her rosebud. With a casual air Jack drew back his hand and slapped one side of her ass hard. Nichole flinched at the slap, but didn’t blink, much less look away. “Play with yourself while I’m spanking you.” Jack demanded. Nichole was amazed, to her touching herself was unspeakably shameful, and she lived in constant agony over her occasional weakness. But Sara did exactly as she was told, reaching between her legs and wetting two fingers in her sex. Nichole thought she heard a moan, but Jack quickly cut it off, spanking her ass again and again. Nichole could not believe her eyes. Not only was Jack spanking her, she seemed to be enjoying it. The harder Jack hit her, the quicker her fingers moved on her pussy. They were talking, too. “Whose ass is this?” Jack was demanding, over and over. Each time Sara would reply with a high pitched “It’s your ass, master!” Finally Jack paused to admire his handiwork. Sara’s ass was bright cherry red, with distinct fingermarks at the periphery of her bottom. Sara, oblivious continued to frig herself, panting. “So which will it be, your ass or your pussy tonight?” Jack asked. “Whichever you want, master!” Sara called back. Jack absent mindedly stroked his cock and said “Good slut.” Seizing Sara’s hips he hauled her so she was perpendicular to the edge of the bed. He moved behind her, one knee on the bed, one foot on the ground, and directed his cock into her… pussy? Into her anus? Nichole couldn’t tell. She did, however, have another complete silhouette as Jack drove his prick into Sara. Jack fucked with his hands firmly on Sara’s hips, each thrust ended in a wet snap as his hips hit her ass. Sara, for her part was covering her head with both hands and was screaming into the comforter.

Nichole had never been as turned on as she was at this moment. But then a nagging doubt finally realized itself and she felt her blood go cold. The position Jack was in, it was a perfect view for her, but it was also fairly awkward for him. He was half on the bed and half off, and while this didn’t seem to be slowing him down it wasn’t the easiest way he could be fucking Sara. Why then was he doing it? Because he wants a person looking from the door to have a good view. He knows I’m here, peeping. Nichole panicked. She had been pressed against the door for so long she was slightly stuck to it, so when she pulled back from the door frame it went with her. The bolt slipped past its guard plate and extended with an audible click. Nichole was completely mortified, her eyes wide in terror. And what’s worse, she saw Jack casually direct his gaze to the door frame and deliver a broad grin. Nichole scrambled backwards and fled to her room. She turned out the lights, slid into bed and struggled to pretend she had been here the whole time. But the scene she had just witnessed repeated itself again and again in her head, watching Jack degrade, spank and then fuck Sara. And though Nichole hated herself for it, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching between her legs and at to first toying, then aggressively playing with her pussy. She simply couldn’t do anything else, her entire being had collapsed to the image of Jack’s cock roughly fucking Sara’s pussy. With moans through the wall ringing in her ears, she came for the first time.

The Next Morning

It was early morning, and Sara was in Nichole’s room trying to shake her awake. “Hey, Nichole, wake up!” she said in a mock serious tone. “Seriously, if you don’t get up right now, you’re going to miss the delicious pancakes. C’mon!” Nichole cracked her eyes open and blinked fiercely at the sudden bright light.

“Sara, what on earth are you doing here?” Nichole asked. Sara never came into her room.

Sara smiled, a little sheepishly. “We’re going to the pancake house, and Jack thought it would be really rude not to invite you. So what do you say? C’mon, get up!”

As the sleep cleared from her mind what she had seen the night before flooded back into Nichole’s thoughts, causing her to shrink further into her covers. She couldn’t face her roommate, not now. Maybe not ever. She briskly shook her head and bunched the covers around her. “No, thank you.” She nearly stammered out. “I’m not feeling too well. I’m going to pass out again.”

Sara’s brows knitted themselves in concern, but she allowed herself to be persuaded. “OK, fine. Give me a call if you need anything. We can pick something up…” Nevertheless, Nichole again refused. Shrugging, Sara left her roommate alone. A few minutes later Nichole heard the slam of the front door.

She lay in bed for a long while, feeling miserable. Not only was her friend and roommate a pervert, but she was a pervert. She had, if she was honest with herself, enjoyed it. Hell, she had come back into her bed and masturbated, thinking about what she had seen. How could she ever face her family again? They wouldn’t know, but Nichole would. This line of thinking was miserable, which was exactly how Nichole wanted it. Except she kept coming around to the central point of why it was miserable, what she had seen. Despite her shame, Nichole started to feel herself grow excited again. No! I’m not that kind of girl! Nichole struggled with herself. To keep from another bout of self-abuse, she got out of the bed and threw herself into something, anything to keep her occupied. What suggested itself was breakfast, so a minute later she was in the living room preparing some toast. This was a mistake. Out in the living room she could again see Sara’s bedroom, this time the door left completely ajar. Some part of her, some imp of the perverse wanted to go in, to see if there was any other evidence this time. No! Nichole insisted, but she found herself walking towards Sara’s room anyway, found herself sneaking through the door, and standing in the middle of the room where she had seen such depravity the night before. And it looked it. The bed had the sheets torn off of it. A peek at the trash can showed an extra four condoms. Four times she thought wistfully. Nichole doubted she could stand once go around with Jack’s harsh attentions. Yet, horrifying though they were, there was no denying that there was something animal, something electrifying about how he so thoroughly dominated Sara. It was mid thought that Nichole noticed the note.

It was a small, white envelope on Sara’s desk. Nothing was around it, and it was positioned clearly so that anyone wandering in the room could see it. It said on the front simply, “To Nichole.” Nichole wanted to run, to hide, but she also felt a burning curiosity. She hesitated, but picked up the envelope. On the back was written in a fine print, “Read this while we’re gone.” Nichole felt a tingle in her chest. He had to know. She opened the envelope, which revealed a short, handwritten note.

“I saw you last night,” it said. “I hope you enjoyed the show. You will be at exactly the same place tonight. If you don’t, I’ll tell Sara that I saw you peeking on us.” That was it. Nichole’s blood grew cold. She can’t know I was peeking, if she did, I would die. Nichole noticed her hands were shaking. To hide it, she crushed the note in her hand and snuck back out of the room. Her appetite was suddenly gone. She crawled back into bed and resolved not to come out.

The day passed quickly for Nichole. She soon found she couldn’t bear to stay in the apartment, with its constant reminder of what awaited her that evening. To pass the time she gathered up her schoolwork and trekked downtown to the public library, where she tried valiantly to distract herself in academics. She was only partially successful. Her thoughts were constantly interrupted with fear, shame and exhilaration. As horrified as she was, Nichole struggled to avoid admitting to herself how powerfully turned on the prospect of the evening had made her. She stared at her textbook instead of reading it, all the while unconsciously grinding her thighs together. The wait was torture.

Nichole avoided returning home until exactly the appointed time. She had no desire to see either Jack or Sara until she absolutely had to. The hands of the clock did march along mercilessly, and at a quarter to midnight she was back at her apartment, opening the front door. It was not as she had expected, the lights were on and the apartment was quiet. She stepped into the apartment and noticed that Jack was seated at their kitchen table, a glass of wine and a notepad before him. He grinned wolfishly at Nichole, and placed a finger to his lips. He beckoned her to come to him and, shrugging her shoulders, Nichole did so. When she got next to the table Jack quickly wrote on the pad.

We’ve been waiting for you Jack wrote. You must be completely silent.

He then made eye contact with Nichole. She nodded.

You will do everything I write. If not, I will tell Sara as I promised. Do you understand me?

Nichole grimaced, but nodded again.

Good. Jack smiled broadly again, then wrote. I don’t trust you to be silent. Put this in your mouth. He placed on the table an object wrapped in a black cloth.

Nichole looked at it dubiously, then she noticed the fire in Jack’s eyes. She pulled the cloth to her and unfolded it. A tremor went through her body. Though she had never seen one before, she instantly recognized the object. It was a bright pink ball gag with a leather strap. This was too much, there was no possible way Nichole could submit to having such a thing placed in her mouth. It was far too humiliating! But Jack carried on as though it were the most natural thing in the world, standing from the table and moving behind Nichole. Without asking he lifted her hair from the back of her neck. Nichole shivered at his touch.

Jack bent his head down and whispered into Nichole’s ear, “Do it.” Her hands moved almost of their own volition, lifting the gag from the cloth and bringing it to her lips. She opened her mouth wide and bit down around the gag. Jack took the end of the straps and secured it tightly behind her neck. The gag occupied the entirety of her mouth, it forced her jaw to be as open as it could be. All Nichole could taste was the tang of the pink rubber. She felt incredibly humiliated to be wearing such a thing.

Jack let Nichole’s hair fall and resumed his seat. He appraised Nichole critically, then wrote again on the notepad.

You look incredibly beautiful wearing that.

Nichole blushed fiercely. How could he possibly think that! Around the gag, though, Nichole was smiling. Somehow the complement made her feel good. Jack returned to the notepad and scrawled a few lines before turning it to Nichole.

I’m going to blindfold you. You will stand and place one arm on my shoulder. You will walk and sit in the empty chair I will lead you to. You will put your arms behind your back in the chair.

Nichole tried to swallow nervously but it was an uncomfortable gesture behind the gag. She just nodded, she was in too far to do anything else. Jack stood, grabbed the strip of cloth on the table and swiftly folded it. Stepping behind her he placed it over her eyes, efficiently tying it into a tight knot. Nichole could not see a thing. This sudden blindness was simultaneously nerve wracking and exhilarating. She felt a pressure on her shoulder and understood it as Jack’s desire that she stand. She did so, and he directed her hand up onto what she took to be his shoulder. They walked briefly, then she heard the opening of a door. A few more steps, and Jack brought her hand down to what she recognized as the backs to one of their kitchen table chairs. She fumbled a bit, but sat down and remembering the last line, she placed her hands behind her. She felt a pressure, then a tightness at her wrists. Jack was doing something with her hands. A few moments passed before Nichole thought to try and move her arms. She felt another stab of thrill and terror as she realized that she was firmly secured to the chair. A moment later she felt the same tightness at one ankle, then the other. Nichole’s heart beat in her chest as she realized she was totally helpless. There was a rustling and pressure behind her head and the blindfold was removed from her eyes.

If it were not for the gag filling her mouth, Nichole would have cried out. Directly in front of her was Sara, in an obscene and perverted tableau. She was tied to a chair, much like Nichole, but was completely nude. Sara’s eyes were blindfolded by a leather mask, and she had another pink ball gag filling her mouth. But these were the mild parts. She was covered with dozens of clothes pins, mostly concentrated on her breasts and genitals. Her legs were pulled open wide, in a wanton display of her sex, so Nichole could see that she had a row of clothes pins running up either side of her labia. Two large pins also clamped down on each of Sara’s nipples. Despite the ball gag, Sara was panting and her skin had a clear sheen of sweat. Nichole tried to look anywhere else, but her eyes were drawn between Sara’s legs. Her pussy was obviously incredibly excited as traces of white had run down between her legs and coated the seat of the chair. Another moment of staring and Nichole realized that Sara’s pussy was completely hairless. Shouting soundlessly into her gag, Nichole struggled mightily against her bonds, but she found to her horror that she was fastened tight. Sara’s condition was far beyond Nichole’s wildest fantasies, and she felt a pang of abject terror. What is this monster going to do to me?

Nichole became aware of movement in the corner of her eyes, and with difficult tore her gaze off of Sara’s shameful state. Jack was off on the side of the room, fiddling with what looked like a video camera on a tripod. Oh, god, he’s filming this? Nichole thought. She struggled with all her might, but this did nothing but fill her with the creeping sense that she was absolutely helpless. She bit down on the gag as hard as she can, desperate to do something, anything, but it was unmovable and unbreakable. Jack finished with the camera, straightened, and smiled.

Jack approached Sara and fiddled with the back of her head. A click, and the straps which held her gag in place fell away. Nichole watched while Sara obediently opened her mouth to allow Jack to remove the gag. It pulled away with a clear trail of saliva. Sara worked her jaw then closed her mouth, obviously sore.

“Tell me, slave. How long have I left you like this?” Jack asked.

Sara’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know, master.”


“An hour, I think?” Sara stammered. Her voice was thick with tension.

“Close enough. I think you’re ready. We’re going to play a little game now, a game which I’m videotaping. We’re going to conduct an interview to find out exactly how much of a whore you really are. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Sara?”

Sara gasped, and frowned deeply. “No, please don’t use… my name on camera,” she gasped out.

Without warning Jack slapped the side of Sara’s left breast, causing one of the clothespins to fly off of her. Sara’s reaction was an immediate “Haaaaaaaaaaaa!”, then she lapsed into panting. “For every question you fail to answer I’m going to slap off another pin.” Jack said. “Do you understand me, Sara Nasser?” Sara took three deep breaths and said “Yes.” Nichole, for her part, was blushing furiously at the humiliation she was witnessing.

“I’ll start with an easy question, very easy,” Jack said, casually circling Sara. “How often do you think about sex?”

Sara breathed unevenly as she processed the question. She licked her lips in a nervous tic. “All, um, all the time.” She said.

“You’ll need to be more specific than that,” Jack prodded, “Once a day?” Sara remained silent, so he continued. “Ten times a day?”

“No,” Sara said, “More like… fifty.”

“Oh!” Jack said, in mock surprise. “That’s quite often. What is that, every time you see an attractive man?”

“Yes,” Sara said with strain in her voice.

“And when you see an attractive man, are you thinking about anything in particular?”

“Yes.” Sara said, her voice growing huskier. “I’m thinking about them controlling me. Sexually.”

“Tying you up?” Jack asked. “Fucking you? Spanking you?” he paused. “Raping you?”

“Yes.” Sara said, her voice a rasp. “All of it.”

“Interesting.” Jack said, casually. “I had no idea you were such a wanton whore, and I’ve been fucking you for years.” Sara’s face blushed a deep scarlet.

Nichole’s entire body was tingling. Simply seeing Sara in her lewd pose had frayed her nerves to their braking point. Listening to her describe the wicked thoughts which ran though her head… Jack is right, Sara is a whore, and he is right to call her one. Just look at the disgusting wetness between her legs! She is enjoying this! Nichole was oblivious to the wetness which had saturated her own panties, all of her attention was focused, laser-like on her roommate.

“Next question,” Jack said, pausing by Sara’s side. He traced his fingers up her stomach, casually touching several of the clothes pins. When he reached her free nipple, he circled it with his fingers, letting the tension build as to what he would ask. “Are you a slave?” Sara froze, clearly trying to figure out what Jack wanted her to say. Jack’s face darkened into a frown, and he delivered a backhand blow to the side of Sara’s stomach, knocking a series of clothespins off of the skin they had been pinching.

“Haaaaa!” Sara yelped, trying to stifle the cry the pain forced from her.

Jack brought a finger up to Sara’s lips. “Ssh, my little whore. If you make noise like that, Nichole might hear you.” An evil smile played across Jack’s face. “What do you think she would say if she could see you now?” Jack circled Sara again. “What do you think she would say if she could see what a. Cock. Thirsty. Cunt. You were?” With each word Jack flicked the row of clothespins which ran up and down Sara’s labia. She gritted her teeth, struggling to make not a sound. “That’s two questions I’ve asked you now which you haven’t answered.” Jack said. “That’s two pins you owe me.”

“Jack,” Sara said, her voice thick with strain. “Jack, please! Please don’t do this. It’s too much!” Nichole could see a single tear leak down her face from under her blindfold.

Jack, however, seemed totally unmoved. “Oh?” he asked. He turned his palm to the ceiling and without ceremony or warning inserted his index and middle finger into Sara’s pussy. He sank all the way to his knuckle easily. Sara gave out a mild yelp at the sudden violation. Jack pulled his fingers out and showed them to Nichole. Sara’s wetness fell off of his index finger with a visible drop. “I don’t think that’s true. In fact, I think the last time you were this wet I made you walk naked through a park with nothing but a rope around your neck.”

Nichole blinked. An image jumped into her mind of her roommate being led nude, like a dog. Just a day ago this would have seemed incredible, but now it was all too easy to picture. Oh my god, she did let him. What a slut. Nichole thought. She struggled to grind her thighs together. The language Jack was using to describe his girlfriend was starting to infect her mind.

“So which is it? Have I gone too far?” Jack asked. Then he brought his two wet fingers up to Sara’s face, and slid them into her mouth. “Or are you loving every second of this?” To Nichole’s surprise, Sara was visibly sucking on Jack’s fingers as he withdrew them from her mouth. “Well?” he asked.

Sara’s face became a thin line. “I like it,” she admitted in a small voice, “but I’m afraid, too. What are you going to do with the video? Who… who are you going to show it to?”

Jack patted the side of her face. “Don’t be silly. I’m going to show it to you.” A pause. “When we’re both 85 and you have been my slave for eighty years.”

To Nichole’s stunned eyes, Sara started to slightly tremble, then visibly shake. Her restraints kept her locked in her seated position, but it looked that without them she might shake herself off the chair. Her breath came in short, gasps. Oh my god. Nichole belatedly realized. She’s… she’s having an orgasm. From being told that he is going to treat her this way forever.

“That was new,” Jack said, softly, stroking Sara’s hair. “I didn’t even have to touch you.”

“You don’t have to,” Sara replied softly. Jack nodded and knelt. He took her hair in a knot in his hands and pulled Sara’s face to his, kissing her with a new intensity. Nichole watched the two of them, feeling some emotion akin to jealousy. She had a boyfriend, yes, but she had never been kissed like that. The fact that Sara was nude, bound, and covered with clothespins, all at her boyfriend’s hand seemed suddenly of no account. When Jack broke the kiss, he was panting too.

“I’m going to leave you here,” Jack said in-between breaths, “for another long while. I want to finish the interview, and after that you’re going to need time to… recover.” He stood and walked to the camera, flicking it off.

“OK.” Sara said quietly.

Jack returned to her and picked up her gag. He lifted it to her face and she obediently opened her mouth, taking it as if it were an old friend. When Jack had secured it he moved to her desk, and rooted through a drawer for a moment emerging with two small pink shapes. “I think I’m going to deprive you of your hearing as well.” Jack said. “I’ll see you soon, my love, my whore, my slave.” With that he carefully worked the earplugs into her ears, taking care to sink them deep. When he finished he snapped his fingers on either side of Sara’s face, and he expressed satisfaction when she failed to react in the slightest. Working efficiently, he pulled a thumb drive from his pocket, connected it to the camera and then a few minutes later to a laptop. A few more keystrokes and he turned to Nichole.

“It’s beautiful, she can’t hear a thing. I’ve used these before,” Jack told Nichole in a low whisper. He moved behind Nichole and started doing something to the ropes which secured her arms. After a moment he had a second thought, and paused. “I expect you will not struggle. I’ve uploaded the video from the camera to a private server, if you do anything rash I’ll make sure it winds up in the hands of your family.” Nichole couldn’t suppress the shiver which took hold of her. No, the shame will be too much. I’ll do anything to avoid that. Then, a moment later, a worse thought occurred to her. And he knows it. Jack freed her legs, and helped her to her feet. Her arms were no longer attached to the chair, but a moment of experimental struggle proved to Nichole that they were still firmly bound to each other. Taking Nichole by the arm, Jack guided her out of the room. As she left Nichole stole a glance back at Sara. She looked somehow tranquil. It made no sense.

Jack led Nichole through the living room, towards her bedroom. He stared at her curiously, and she struggled to avoid his gaze. As they entered the door to her bedroom, Jack whispered “I can tell by your body language that you think the fun for the evening is over. Well…” he smiled, “it’s not.” Jack shifted his hand from her arm to the back of her head, bunching her hair together and gripping it tightly. The pain was only moderate, but the sudden application shocked Nichole.

“Mrmph!” she struggled to shout around the gag, but she could only produce a faint grunting. Is he going to rape me?

“I could tell by your eyes that you scorned Sara for letting me treat her like I did. I’m sure you think she is indeed a whore, deserving of rough treatment. Well she and you’re cut from the same cloth.”

No, that’s not true!

“And I’m going to prove it to you.” Jack marched Nichole by her hair over to her bed, where he forced her head down onto her mattress. With her arms bound, there was very little she could do to resist without causing greater pain from Jack’s grip on her hair. This left her in her pose standing, bent over the bed. He reached between her legs, and deftly unbuttoned the clasp of her jeans.

Oh god, he is going to rape me, Nichole thought, and she started to struggle anew. This brought nothing but painful yanks to her hair.

“Calm down.” Jack whispered. “I’m not going to fuck you. I’m just going to prove what kind of woman you are.”

With surprising skill he worked her jeans down her legs with his free hand. Nichole wanted to resist, but part of her just felt defeated. I’ll wait until he’s done, then I’ll call the police, she thought glumly. She sharply took in a breath when Jack followed her jeans with her panties, pulling them slowly over the curve of her ass. Nichole could feel the chill of the air on her sex, and was mortified that the first man to see her pussy was doing so under such conditions.

“Here is your proof,” Jack said, and he moved his hand again between her legs. Nichole tensed her body, dreading the rough violation she was sure was coming. Instead his touch was soft, she could scarcely feel it at all. A moment later he withdrew his hand, and moved it into Nichole’s field of vision. That can’t be. Nichole thought, as she stared at the thick sheen which covered two of Jack’s fingers. “You’re as wet as she is,” Jack whispered, “and just from watching.”

Please stop. Please. Nichole tried to form the words, but the gag muffled her every murmur. Her eyes watched with horror while Jack moved the fingers to his mouth, where he tasted the liquid on them, his face aglow.

“You even taste lovely.” He pronounced with a leer.

That’s disgusting, Nichole thought. Jack savored Nichole’s emission for a long moment.

“I suppose it’s time for your reward, for being such a… compliant girl.” He returned his hand between her legs, and this time Nichole could feel the presence of his fingers on her sex. Jack traced up the sides of her lips for a moment, gathering wetness on the tips of his fingers. He slid back up and settled in a stead rhythm, teasing, stimulating, and circling her clit. Where it not for the gag filling her mouth, Nichole would have gasped aloud. She had in recent months grown semi-accustomed to pleasuring herself, but where she was a reluctant, diligent Jack seemed to be a seasoned professional. Every touch, every press brought a wave of pleasure surging through her far stronger than any she had brought on herself. Oh god, oh god. No no no no no. I will not enjoy this. I will not! But why does it feel so good? Nichole repeated to herself, over and over, struggling to disbelieve the sensations which overtook her. Jack, in turn, gripped her hair even tighter, increasing the pressure on her scalp well into outright pain. With his grip he pushed down on her head, forcing her into her into her mattress and making even clearer the physical dominion he held over her body. Nichole couldn’t move, not even the slightest. She could only stand and suffer the competing waves of pain and pleasure which started to mix, to intensify somewhere within her. I can’t… Nichole thought. I’m not… but she was. Stuck in her humiliating pose, being pleasured without her desire or consent, Nichole started to come. Any pleasure she had felt was dwarfed by the new feeling that hit her. Her mind turned blank, and her limbs seemed to turn into jelly. Around her gag she was screaming, though this translated into a mere low groan in the real world. Her mind was in such straits that she was only dimly aware of the jet of fluid she had ejected from her pussy, in pulse after pulse.

Jack held her in this position for a long, long time, until he finally relaxed her grip. Nichole collapsed onto her knees on the floor, her legs awkwardly tied together by her jeans. Jack was staring at his now drenched hand, his lips turned upwards, his thoughts inscrutable. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” Jack said at last, and patted the side of Nichole’s cheek. It left a wet imprint which Nichole only dimly registered. He turned his attention to her hands, fiddling with them for a moment. With that, he was gone, carefully closing the door behind him. Nichole lay on the ground, struggling to put her thoughts in order. I’ve just been raped, haven’t I? Nichole thought to herself. She tried to will herself off the floor. To reach her phone, to call someone, the police, anyone. But she couldn’t. She was still reeling from the afterglow. It took her a number of minutes to realize that her hands were now loose enough that she could free herself. Laboriously she shrugged out of the knots, then brought her hands to her head to undo the clasp on the gag. It took a few tries, but she finally succeeded, feeling it pop free at the back of her head. She gingerly removed the pink rubber ball from her mouth, realizing that her jaw was terribly sore. She opened and closed her mouth, experimentally.

She tried to stand, but found her legs unsteady. She went to pull up her panties and jeans, to restore her modesty, and only then did it register that they were soaked with fluid. Nichole stared at them, utterly confused. That came from me? she wondered. That’s never happened before. If she shouldn’t put them on then she needed to take her wet clothing off, so she struggled to work them down, free from her legs. She had just stepped out of her wet panties and was staring at the large spot on the carpet when she started to hear Jack and Sara, back at it next door. They must have been yelling. “Take my cock, you whore! You cunt! You bitch!” Jack was shouting. Sara was shouting back. “Oh god, yes, my master! Make me! Make me take your cock! Make this pussy yours!” As Nichole, nude from the waist down, listened dumbly she realized that she was grinding her legs together. I’m… getting turned on? More than anything, this filled Nichole with a deep sense of shame. She had just been violated, and hearing her roommate suffer similar treatment was arousing her. All thoughts of calling the police left her as she couldn’t bear to face anyone anymore. She collapsed into her bed and pulled the covers tightly over her head. She listened to Jack fucking Sara next door until she finally nodded off. Jack was aggressively telling Sara how he wanted her to lick his asshole.


Nichole woke the next morning with the events of the previous evening replaying themselves over and over in her mind. She had no desire to wake, to face her roommates, so she stayed huddled under her covers until well past noon. It took a combination of her growling stomach and the pressure in her bladder to finally force her out of the bed. As she exited the bed the cool air on her nether regions offered a fresh reminder of hat Jack had done to her, and she shivered in the warm air. There was a clear outline on the floor from where she had wet herself, and she cringed in the mistaken thought that she had urinated while being molested. Next to the spot were ropes which had bound her and the gag which had muffled her, both of which she carefully tried to avoid looking at. She stepped over to her dresser to alleviate her nudity and she had dressed in a tank top and sweatpants when she noticed a white envelope, carefully perched atop her things. With trembling fingers, Nichole retrieved it and opened the letter it contained.

Dear Nichole It began. I hope you enjoyed last night as much as I did. No doubt you’re cringing at the thought of it, but let me ask you. Have you ever had an orgasm like that before? I strongly doubt it, you practically fainted. It’s obvious, you loved every second of it. My demonstration that Sara is my slave, then our moment together in your room. You may think of yourself as a proper, “good” girl, but you’re a slut at heart, trust me. I know you’re not ready to accept this simple truth, so I’m going to help you out. We’re going to have another “date” tonight. I’m going to prove to you what you love.

Nichole felt a fury build within her. How dare he? How DARE he? She wanted to destroy the letter, to tear it up. But there was more writing, and she felt compelled to finish it.

If you perhaps think that you would like to decline my invitation, I’m afraid that I must inform you that I’m not allowing you a choice. I videotaped us last night, and while of course you looked impossible beautiful I’m sure you would hate for your mother or father to see it.

Nichole crumpled the letter in her balled fist. That… MONSTER! How could he even dream of… showing ANYONE what he had done to her? How could he? Her every muscle tensed as she crushed the letter. By degrees, her rage subsided into despair, and she sunk down onto the floor, sobs wracking her body. He was right, she had no choice, no choice at all. What could she do, call the police and explain what had happened? That would be nearly as bad as what Jack threatened to do. No, she was trapped. Sara. That bitch, this is all her fault. If she wasn’t such a whore I would never be in this position. It was no use. She stayed on the floor for a long, long time, hopelessly awaiting her fate.

Jack and Sara came back late that afternoon, just as the sun was setting into twilight. Nichole thought every horrible wish she could towards them, but she felt more exhausted than anything else. The apartment was deathly quiet, and she could hear their conversation

“I just want you to know that tonight is going to be a much more intense session than anything we’ve done before. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Jack was saying. There was silence for a minute, Nichole could hear the clock in the next door apartment tick. “Yes.” Sara said at last. “I’m ready for anything you want me to do. Anything.” “Good.” Jack said. “I’m going to walk you across a line we’ve never crossed.” There was silence again, and Nichole heard a faint wet noise. They were kissing? After he practically promised to horribly mistreat her? “Are you ready?” Jack asked. “Yes, Master.”

For the next hour Nichole listened intently while Jack stripped Sara, gave her a slow and thorough spanking. For a while there was a gagging noise, and then some sharp shrieks. Nichole found the energy to get up from the floor and over to the bed, where she squeezed a pillow against her ears. At last it was silent. She lay there and waited for Jack. It was torture.

The light to her bedroom flicked on, he was here at last. Nichole watched him approach her out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing jeans and shirtless, with a sheen of sweat touching his skin. Nichole hadn’t seen him in the light before, and she numbly recognized that he had a beautiful body. He knelt by her bed and reached down to brush her hair from her eyes. Nichole flinched, but there was nowhere for her to go.

“We’re ready for you.” Jack said. Nichole just stared at him, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t make me do this. Do anything. Please leave me alone.”

Jack smiled. “You know I can’t do that. I know what your heart truly desires, and to let you shirk that would be like destroying a beautiful painting.”

“That’s not true.” Nichole whispered, mostly to herself. Jack leaned in to kiss her cheek, and there was nothing she could do to avoid him.

“Stand up.” He breathed into her ear.

What do I do? Nichole thought to herself. I could lie limply, I could run… but if I was going to do that, why am I here in the first place? Why didn’t I leave during the day? Up close she could smell Jack’s scent, it was a strong, salty odor. It was the scent from the bed two days ago, the scent of love, of sex. It was like a tiny kick to some deep place in Nichole’s brain. Maybe it is true. Nichole despaired. Maybe I am just like Sara. A slut, a whore, prey to this… animal in human skin. Her chest felt hollow. Nichole collected herself and stood off of the bed.

Jack walked around her, slowly, his eyes traveling up and down her form. Nichole stood sullenly, her shoulders and arms drooped limply.

“You are so very beautiful.”

This was of course, insane, and Nichole snapped back irritably, “Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t showered. I’m a gross mess.” It felt good to fight back, even in this terribly petty way.

“Oh, but you see, that allows me to see the real you, the self that you hide behind your usual careful makeup and attended hair. And you are so very beautiful. And my favorite part? Your lips.” Jack took one finger, and he placed it on Nichole’s lower lip, pressing down slightly and parting her mouth. Oh, god Nichole thought, but she didn’t move. “In fact, I don’t think I can resist.” And with that, Jack wrapped around her and brought his lips to his. No, stop, this isn’t happening Nichole thought, but against his powerful arms she couldn’t move. She felt his tongue enter her mouth, and detected a taste akin to his scent him on his tongue. Oh, god, that’s Sara’s… Nichole realized in a rush. She was utterly disgusted, but there was nothing she could do. Jack savored the kiss, and Nichole felt completely defiled. Finally he released her, and held her at arms-length, searching in her eyes. “You liked that.” He said. No, of course I didn’t, you demon! But her heart was racing, and her breathing was shallow.

“I’m going to undress you now.” Jack said, his arms still on her. “If you fight me, I’ll pull you over my knee and give you a spanking. Am I clear?” No! Nichole wanted to scream. Without waiting for an answer, Jack grabbed the base of Nichole’s tank top and started to lift. I don’t know if I can stand this. Nichole thought, but the thought of being spanked was far, far more humiliating. As he reached her armpits Nichole obediently raised her arms, allowing him to pull the garment over her head. Nichole was even more aware that she hadn’t showered, and she felt ashamed to be seen in this condition, even by someone she so thoroughly hated.

“Please, stop,” Nichole said. “Don’t look at me like this, I haven’t showered, this isn’t…”

“Hush,” Jack said. He wrapped his arms again around her and his hands deftly found the catch of her bra. With a quick flip he opened it and drew the garment around her arms, off of her. It was too quick to react, so Nichole just stood there, her heart pounding. No man had ever seen her chest before and the exposure was mortifying. It’s too much, this is just too much. Jack drew his arms back, touching her sides as he went until he traced his touch along the edges of her breasts. Jack’s voice was suddenly gentle. “Are you ashamed for me to see you like this?” What kind of a question was that?

Nichole answered furiously, “Of course I am, how could any woman bear to have a man like you… do this to them!”

Jack continued to stroke the side of her breast. “I see,” he said.

I should stop him. Why am I not stopping him?

“You’re lucky, then. You won’t have to feel shame ever again.” What does that mean? And with that, Jack swiftly grabbed the sides of her sweatpants and pulled, taking her panties with him. They fell to the floor, leaving her completely and totally exposed. Nichole squeezed her legs together, her eyes shut. She tried to pretend she was anywhere else, doing anything else.

“I’m impressed, Jack said, slowly. Go to hell. “Even Sara wasn’t this excited the first time.” He’s lying. He’s lying. He’s lying. That’s impossible, there’s no way I could be excited by this torture, it’s not true, it’s… Nichole didn’t need to open her eyes. Her thighs felt moist, down to her knee. “Put your hands behind your back,” Jack said, and Nichole, in a daze, did as she was told. “Good girl,” Jack said and he clicked shut a pair of handcuffs, trapping her arms in place. Nichole didn’t even struggle. What would the point be? Jack kissed her cheek again. “Are you ready to see Sara? She’s been waiting for you.” Jack placed his hand on the small of Nichole’s back and walked her to the door. Nichole couldn’t remember a single step. “Oh, by the way,” Jack said, when they reached the door frame.” “Sara will be blindfolded, so she won’t know it’s you. Unless you say something, that is.” Do I care what that whore Sara thinks? Nichole wondered. How her thoughts towards her roommate had changed. But, of course she did. Or at least, if she could keep anyone from seeing her shame, she would do it. Nichole resolved to say not a word.

Jack guided Nichole through the apartment. It was now dark, save for a red light emerging from under Sara’s door. It looks like a door into hell. Nichole though. Jack opened the door, and Nichole almost choked. She was prepared for a scene like last nights, but that wasn’t what she saw. Sara was dangling by her wrists from an eye bolt attached to the ceiling. Her toes could barely touch the ground, and it was obvious that she’d lost the strength to try and stand on them. Her body was covered with a network of welts, with hardly an inch untouched. On her nipples and her clitoris were attached tiny air pumps which sucked mercilessly on her sensitive flesh. She wore only a leather blindfold, a red ball gag and a large pair of headphones. How could Jack find it within himself to do so many horrible things? Nichole was stupefied. Jack guided her into the room. It was oppressively hot, and she started to sweat almost immediately. Jack pulled out a chair. Nichole couldn’t stop staring at the welts covering Sara’s body, and she felt an animal fear. She’d do anything to avoid having that done to her. Anything but run, she’d forgotten that she still could.

Jack walked over to Sara. Carefully avoiding touching her body, he kissed her around her ball gag. This lasted for a long, long time. Nichole just watched, dumbly. She looks so needy. Jack finally reached up and removed Sara’s headphones, tossing them onto the bed carelessly. The ball-gag soon joined it, by the way Sara worked her jaw she had clearly been wearing it for quite a while.

“Thank you, Master,” Sara whispered, hoarsely.

Jack just smiled. “Have you thought about what I asked you?”

Sara just nodded weakly. “Yes, Sir,” She said. She barely had a voice. “Please break me further. Please push me past my limits and make me utterly yours.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want to be me anymore, I only want to be your whore. Please.” This isn’t Sara. Nichole thought. This isn’t the girl I’ve known. Jack has ruined her. He’s the devil. Nichole struggled with her handcuffed arms. She wanted desperately to touch herself.

“Good,” was all Jack said. He wrapped his hands around Sara’s waist and lifted, freeing her arms from the hook in the ceiling. He had to let her down gently, she was nearly limp. He lowered her into a kneeling puddle. Jack stroked the side of her face tenderly, then the harshness returned and he grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her face up towards the ceiling. “I have someone to introduce you to, then.” By her hair, he started to pull Sara towards Nichole, and Sara crawled dazedly along. Oh god, not here. Don’t bring her here. I want nothing to do with this. Please stop. “There’s no point in pretending that you’re my girlfriend anymore. You’re not. You’re my slave.” He let this sink in. “So I’ve decided to start seeing someone new.” Sara reacted as though she’d been punched, and she went limp. Nothing held her up except for Jack’s hand bunched in her hair. “No!” she shrieked. “Nonononononono!” I can’t believe he’d be so cruel. Nichole thought. Then another blade of dread stabbed into her. Wait, does he mean me? With Jack’s free hand, he slapped Sara’s ass, once, and again, leaving fresh handprints. “Tell me, bitch, were you lying just moments ago? Do you regret what you said?” He pulled Sara into a kneeling crouch, where she sniffled. From under the blindfold slipped a trail of tears. “Why would you do that to me?” Sara whispered. “It gave you something to hold onto.” Jack said. “Now you’re my whore, and nothing more.” Sara held herself very still, trying to contain her sobs. “Yes, Sir,” She said, in a choked voice. “Good,” Jack said. He grabbed her hair again and forced her head to the ground, just inches from Nichole’s feet. “Now kiss her toes. Do it, you whore.” Nichole watched dumbstruck while Sara lifted her head and took her big toe into her mouth. She sucked gently for a moment, then kissed down the row of Nichole’s toes, drinking in the taste of her feet. “Good cunt,” Jack said, “wash them with your tongue. Just like that.” Jack knelt by Sara’s head and stroked her hair like she was a dog. “Now high. Kiss the top of her feet. Now her ankles.” No, stop, no higher, please… “Now her shins. Now her knees.” With each new command Sara followed suit, kissing and licking higher and higher on Nichole’s right leg. Nichole squeezed her legs together, dreading what would inevitably happen next.

Wrapping his arms around Sara, Jack placed one hand on each of Nichole’s knees. He looked up and their eyes locked. Oh God. The look in Jack’s eye filled Nichole with fear. No matter what she did, he would get what he wanted from her, there was nothing she could do but obey or be forced. Did Sara fight? Is this how he started on her? Up close the welts covering Sara’s body were horrifying. I can’t let that happen to me. Her heart in her throat, Nichole allowed Jack to part her legs without a hint of resistance. “Now her thighs.” Jack said, and Sara followed, bending her face to kiss the inside of Nichole’s leg. She traced her kisses closer and closer to Nichole’s sex. “Please…” Sara whispered. Jack’s face turned to fury, and he savagely spanked Sara’s ass again and again and again, each time driving Sara’s face against Nichole’s stomach. “Don’t ever question me,” Jack ordered sternly. Sara held still, her mouth open in a plaintive sob, her face a mask of pain. “Y-y-y-y-yes, sir,” Sara stuttered, her voice wet.

“Now it’s time,” Jack said. “You’re going to kiss what’s before you.” He ran his hand up Sara’s back up to her head where he grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Do it.” He drove her face forward until it was an inch from Nichole’s sex. Nichole couldn’t blink – Sara timidly extended her tongue and it made contact with Nichole’s slit. “Is it wet?” Jack demanded. Sara nervously licked her lips and said, “Yes.” That can’t be true! I’m not, this isn’t! Nichole pled with herself. Jack just drove Sara’s face forward so that it mashed into Nichole’s pussy, her pubic hair tickling Sara’s face and nose. Nichole could no longer see Sara’s face, she could only feel her obeying her master. She must be licking, sucking, touching, her entire world compressed to a hot, wet pussy her face was pressed into. Nichole tried to imagine what it was like for Sara and she shook with revulsion. She didn’t realize that while she did her pussy grew even wetter.

“That’s good,” Jack said, “you filthy slut. Now say that you love that pussy.”

Sara paused her sucking just long enough to mumble along, “I love this pussy,” then dive back in. This is a sickness was all Nichole could think.

“Now say that the pussy owns you.”

Sara obeyed again. “I-This pussy, it owns me.” Sara put way more emphasis on the words then Jack had, and it took Nichole a moment to realize that while she was staring at Sara’s face, Jack had moved one hand between Sara’s legs where he must be pleasuring her.

“Now say that you worship this pussy,” and Sara dutifully repeated after him.

“Good slut.” Jack said, “Now repeat it, and don’t stop.”

Sara was licking Nichole’s pussy in long, broad licks. “I love this pussy.” Sara said. She licked again, and continued. “This pussy owns me.” Another lick, and “I worship this pussy.” She said it over and over again, her voice growing breathless and filling with emotion. And Nichole couldn’t deny it any more, hearing Sara say such dirty things and feeling the soft wetness of her tongue against her slit was really, really hot. She’s… loving it. She’s such a slut, such a dirty, filthy slut, licking my pussy. My pussy she… she worships it. Nichole couldn’t help herself, and began grinding herself against Sara’s face as much as she could, abandoning the pretense that she wasn’t enjoying what was happening. When she noticed that Jack was watching her face with satisfaction, Nichole could only blush.

“Now, bitch,” Jack said, giving Sara’s hair a tug. “I think it’s time to show you whose pussy you’re worshipping. Head up.” Nichole instantly started to panic. Oh fuck, no, she can’t see me, not like this! She tried to get up, but her legs were spread so wide she couldn’t gain any purchase, and her hands cuffed behind the chair were useless. No! NO! Jack took his hand from between Sara’s legs, grabbed the edge of Sara’s blindfold and pulled, ripping it from her face. Sara blinked, her eyes stinging from the light. They began to focus, and she saw who was sitting in the chair in front of her, whose pussy she had been pleasuring. “Master!” she said, in a strangled voice. Nichole felt like her body was simply buzzing, like it was an object unattached to her mind. “Don’t worry,” Jack said, his face held a broad, evil smile. “She’s just as much of a filthy whore as you are. Isn’t that true, Nichole?”

At the mention of her name, Nichole flinched like she was slapped. Her eyes couldn’t focus, she felt such terror. Jack just continued talking. “Tell the truth. Otherwise I will have to punish you. Both of you.” What could be more horrible than this? Nichole wondered, but she was sure that if there was something, Jack knew it. What does he want to hear? The answer was obvious. “Yes,” Nichole said. Her voice croaked from disuse.

“No,” Jack said, flatly, “say the whole thing.”

Nichole knew exactly what he wanted. Nichole felt lightheaded, like she had been forgetting to breathe. “I’m a filthy whore too.” Nichole heard herself say. That wasn’t me! Nichole pled with herself.

“Now, cunt,” Jack said, and drove Sara’s face back into Nichole, “make the filthy whore come.” She won’t, not after… Nichole thought, but Sara resumed her licking, her face hidden again between Nichole’s legs. “Oh…!” Nichole let escape her, now that she had spoken she couldn’t keep the noise inside her. “See?” Jack smirked, “She even moans like a whore.” He returned his hand between Sara’s legs where he worked furiously.

Nichole didn’t want to come. She didn’t want to show Jack the satisfaction, she didn’t want to lose herself to this grotesque tableau. But it was hopeless, Sara’s tongue on her pussy simply felt too good, too hot, too wonderful. But that wasn’t the half of it. Being forced to debase herself, to use the words that Jack had made her speak, they had driven a lightning bolt into Nichole’s spine. She couldn’t stop herself, no matter how much she wanted to. “Oh… Oh… Oh…! Oh! OH OH OH OH OH OH OH!” Nichole was yelling, she didn’t care. Every move of Sara’s tongue filled her body even further with pleasure. Her vision grew dark, and Nichole came, she came on Sara’s tongue, bucking and thrashing her hips. She lost complete control of herself and yelled a toneless wail. She lost track of time, of feeling. It was her own personal heaven, and she loved it.

It was some time later, and Nichole blinked. She was exactly where she had last felt herself, handcuffed to the chair. Her vision was a touch fuzzy, but she blinked rapidly trying to clear it. Jack and Sara had apparently not stopped while she was recovering, instead Sara was lying on her back, her head resting against the wall and her Legs spread up wide, forming a giant V in the air. Jack had… God, it looked like three fingers slowly pumping into her bottom, and while Nichole watched he added a fourth. That held Nichole’s attention only until she saw Sara’s face. Oh, her face! Sara’s face was wet with tears, her mascara forming long streaks to her chin. Her eyes were red, but that only accented the look of pure, unadulterated need she gave Jack. Seeing that face, Nichole thought she could understand why Sara let Jack do all the things that he did, why she submitted to the grossest humiliations. She needed him, the attention, and the manipulation. She just simply could not go without it. Jack was whispering something, which she strained to hear. “I’m so proud of you, you’re perfect, you did amazing, you’re a good girl, I love you, I’m so proud…” in an endless cadence. Nichole was completely dumbstruck.

After a bit of this Sara’s eyes rolled back and she let her head fall. When she lifted it she noticed that Nichole was back with them, and she nodded in her direction. “Master…” she whispered, her lips turning into a small smile. Jack directed his attention, and nodded. “You first.” He whispered back. He tucked his thumb, and pressed, until his entire hand fit inside Sara’s bottom. Nichole’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. This is the most disgusting and depraved thing I have ever seen. Sara’s eyes shut tight and she opened her mouth in an expression Nichole couldn’t place. But with her hands she strained, trying to pull her legs open wider. She’s trying to let him go deeper. I had no idea she was as sick as this… To Nichole’s horror, his hand then began to move, pushing and pulling in Sara’s grotesquely spread ass. “Aaaaaaaaaaugh” Sara breathed, her voice husky and off kilter. She was moaning, loud and animal, her body covered with a sheen of sweat. “Uaaaaaaaaaaagh.” Was she… enjoying this? That’s not possible! “Aaaaaaaaaagh” Sara breathed, then in a tight grit “aaaaugh, now, please..!” With his free hand Jack wound up and delivered a powerful slap directly on Sara’s pussy, it impacted with a very loud wet noise. Sara’s entire body convulsed, her every muscle flexing. A jet of clear liquid shot out of her cunt, hitting Jack square in the chest. He wound up again and delivered another SMACK, and Sara convulsed again. She found her voice “AAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” she screamed, unable to breathe. Another SMACK, and a second jet of liquid shot out of Sara, as she thrashed on the floor. Jack wound up again, and delivered one final blow to Sara’s pussy. Nichole couldn’t blink. Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.

Sara was lying on the floor breathing, her face curiously at peace. Jack let her legs down slowly, then very carefully removed his hand. Nichole couldn’t see Sara’s bottom, but she could only imagine what damage his hand had caused. After that barbarity, Jack seemed to be treating Sara with almost excessive gentleness. He rearranged her body on the ground so her head was lying comfortably on a pillow, her arms at her side. With his clean hand he licked his fingertips and scrubbed the mascara from her face. While he was doing this he spoke “She loves this, you know. It started as a game, something we’d play now and again. But she’d always push to take things further and deeper.” He finished and carefully brushed Sara’s hair out of the way. “I’m sorry. I should never have done any of the things to you I did. That was totally and completely wrong of me. It’s just…” Jack looked up and met Nichole’s gaze. “You reminded me of her, how she used to act and feel. I did to you what I would have done to Sara were I meeting her for the first time.”

Jack got up, and walked around Nichole. He fiddled with her handcuffs, and she felt their painful pressure on her wrists fall away. “You’ll never have to see us again. I’m leaving with Sara this evening, and of course we’ll destroy the video tapes. It’ll be like none of this ever happened.” He returned to Sara’s side, picked her up, and gently lay her down on her bed. Nichole just stared at him, her body frozen in place, her eyes absolutely furious. “You think you can just do all this to me and walk away?” Nichole practically screamed. “You… you raped me! You terrified me and blackmailed me and now you expect to just leave it at that! No! You are not leaving me!”

Jack halted, and turned around slowly. “I’m not what?” Why on earth did I say that? Nichole knew perfectly why, though she had tried very, very hard to deny it to herself. “You’re not leaving me.” Nichole said again, her eyes dimming with tears. “You’re not making me feel these things and then letting it drop. You need to take care of me.”

“You’re sure about this? You just saw how I treat Sara.” Jack said. Yes I did. Nichole thought. It was utterly inhuman, totally despicable. Then her heart of hearts spoke up. And it was unbelievably hot. Jack saw the look in her face change and the corner of his lips lifted in a smile. He crouched down, bringing his face level with hers. “Ok, then,” he said. “I promise that I will teach you in exactly the same way I have taught Sara. And I will never, ever let you go.” And with that he kissed her, surprisingly tenderly. Nichole felt her heart catch, and she melted into him as much as she could without moving her hands. She felt… relieved.



Nichole looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted her dress so that it properly exposed both of her breasts. She frowned, she didn’t like the way this dress compressed her cleavage, but Jack liked it and that was enough for her. It slightly marred the lines of the tattoo across her breasts which proclaimed to the world that she was a ‘Filthy Cunt’. Having that inked had been unbelievably humiliating, and just the sight of it had been enough to get her wet for months. Satisfied, Nichole opened her jewelry box and spent a moment perusing, pondering what Jack might like today. She selected two rings with small silver bells, which she inserted into the piercings through her nipples. She turned back to the full length mirror. The dress she was wearing parted at her midriff in a large slit which left her front completely exposed from the navel down. She had waxed her mons and legs that morning so that they were properly hairless but she still gave them a close inspection, mindful of her Master’s standards. Nichole crouched uncomfortably, and took from the jewelry box a red satin ribbon which she threaded between the piercings down her labia, crossing and crisscrossing her sex. At the top she tied it in a simple bow, the symbol that her Master jealously guarded her virtue. Well, her pussy at any rate, her bottom was available to anyone unless Jack chose to plug it, and he rarely did. I wish Jack was here to do this personally. Nichole thought. She loved it when he tied her tight, the faint pressure on her piercings reminding her that she was owned. But Jack was out with the groom, doing whatever they did, and so the girls were left to get ready by themselves.

“Hey, could you help me for a moment?” Sara asked as she walked into the bathroom. She was almost nude, wearing only the purple silk rope which Jack liked to truss her up in. She had as much of the knots as she could but she needed Nichole’s help to properly finish the job. This wasn’t unusual, while the knots changed regularly, they always immobilized Sara’s hands or legs, so whenever Jack wasn’t around it fell to Nichole to finish the job properly.

“Sure,” Nichole said.

Sara looked apologetic. “I couldn’t get it to fit quite right, either,” she explained, touching the ropes which bound her swollen belly. Nichole felt a pang of jealousy. I wish he had picked me first. But Sara had been his slave first and longest, so it made a certain kind of sense. She took the ends of the purple ropes and continued the knots, adorning Sara’s body with the crisscrossing lines and securing her arms firmly behind her. “Could you do it a little tighter, please?” Sara asked, “I can’t really feel it.” On your cunt, Nichole mentally translated, and she dutifully adjusted the ropes. Sara was by now her sister in all things, but Nichole did wish that she could get dressed by herself. This was a little tedious.

“So are you jealous?” Nichole asked after a moment, she was kneeling in front of Sara to get the rope properly stimulating her clit. Nichole spent quite a bit of time between Sara’s legs, so her pussy was as familiar as her own. Nichole touched Jack’s name tattooed across Sara’s mons. She wanted that, desperately.

“Jealous?” Sara asked.

“Of Christine, the bride slave to be.”

Sara looked wistful for a moment. “A little. I think we were both too far gone by the time that we learned that people actually did this sort of thing.” She shivered a little. “But all those people! It would have been fun.”

Nichole nodded. She often thought of her first two nights. Jack had done many, many things to her, but the first sharp initiation into this world of love and control was still her favorite. She stood, they were both ready to go.

“Wait,” Sara said. “I’m supposed to be gagged tonight.” Nichole nodded, and picked a large, black ball gag from its waiting hook. Sara opened her mouth wide to accept the gag, then dropped her head to ease its buckling. Nichole gave Sara a brief peck on her widely stretched lips.

“Ok,” Nichole said, as the attached a leash to the ring on Sara’s collar. “Let’s go have some fun.”

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