Earning Forgiveness Ch. 04byMechanicalAngel©
Emma woke the next morning, and went tiredly through the morning routine. Downstairs she cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, and obediently laid the table for two. When the door to the kitchen opened at exactly half past nine, she could hear only one pair of footsteps.
"William's still sleeping," James said lightly. "You must have tired him out last night." Emma said nothing, and heard him start to eat the meal she had prepared. "Why don't you tell me all about it?" Emma's heart sank. She didn't know if she could bear to talk to James about what she had done last night. It still felt like a huge betrayal. "Come on, tell me what the two of you did. Don't leave any details out; I'll know if you do."
And so Emma began, telling James how she had kissed William and then how she had let him fuck her. She told him that she had begged for more, and that finally they had come together. Throughout the story, James was silent. "That's all, master," she said when she had finished.
"Well, you certainly had a fun-filled evening," he said mockingly. "I wonder if you would like to sleep with William again tonight."
Emma said nothing, and prayed that they would let her sleep in her cage that evening. Just a few short days ago she would never have believed that she would be hoping for that awful cage, but they'd somehow managed to find something worse. Shortly after, William came down, and the two men began comparing notes on what it was like to fuck Emma. She flushed as she heard them talk about her as though she was nothing but a sex-object; to hear her body described in vivid detail. They even talked about the noises she made when she came.
They went through the process of feeding her, and then let her outside to relieve herself. "Make sure you make the most of this, bitch, because you won't be allowed out again until after lunch," James said.
They told her to get down on all fours between their armchairs, and rested an ashtray on her back. All morning they watched TV and chatted as though she wasn't even there, and Emma was left alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help dwelling on what had happened to her since she had arrived at their house. It had been two days since she had last heard her name spoken aloud; two days since she had been allowed to make her own choices; two days since she had eaten at a table and used cutlery. Had it really only been two days?
She had almost an entire month to go, and she couldn't think what else they might have in store for her. She had shown her pussy to a group of drunken men in a pub; fucked herself in the arse with the heel of her own shoe; played fetch; and begged for treats like a dog. And she had allowed herself to be fucked by her boyfriend's best friend. She flushed when she thought about that. What else could they possibly do to humiliate and degrade her?
After lunch, they played lucky dip again. Emma picked out a cucumber and they made her fuck herself with it, and then deep-throat it when it was covered in her cum. Finally they made her cut it into slices and insert each slice into her pussy before she ate it. They laughed the whole time, as though they couldn't believe the depths to which she would sink on their orders. When she was finished, they took her into the dining room and she prayed they weren't going to punish her again. She had done everything they had asked of her, so surely they wouldn't beat her?
They didn't beat her. William opened a box and pulled out a large butt-plug and showed it to her while James unclipped her lead. William pushed the butt-plug into her mouth and she knew to suck on it so it would be lubricated. He handed it to James, who pushed it roughly into her arse. It was bigger than the one they had used yesterday, and again her arsehole felt like it was on fire. William pulled out a vibrator and pushed it deep into her pussy, and turned it on. Both her holes were filled, and the vibrator was buzzing at her clit as well. She felt herself getting wet instantly.
"We're leaving you here on your own for a while," James said as he cuffed her wrists behind her back. "We didn't want you to get bored, so you've got these toys to keep you occupied."
William fastened her ankles to hooks in the floor, keeping her legs spread wide, and then tied her wrist-cuffs to a hook in the wall. She was locked in tight and unable to move. "We don't want to have you with us all the time, you see. We've got better things to do and we have no use for you right now." They left her alone in the dining room and the message was clear. She wasn't important enough to bother with unless they wanted her for something.
For hours they left her, until her legs and shoulders ached, and her arsehole and pussy throbbed with the constant, unrelenting stimulation. She had come over and over again, and her juices were running down her thighs and pooling on the floor beneath her. She couldn't think because the orgasms had taken over, and when James finally came back she was almost passed out.
When James pulled the butt-plug and vibrator roughly from her holes, her body protested violently. Her arsehole was gaping and she was desperate for something to fill her pussy. She moaned lightly, and James laughed. "You'll have to cope with nothing inside you right now. You've got cleaning to do." He released her from her cuffs and pushed her onto the ground, holding her face in her own cum. She obediently put out her tongue and licked up the mess she had made on the floor. When it was clean, James pulled her back to her feet and pushed her towards the door. "William wants you for something. He's in his bedroom."
Emma knocked nervously on William's door. He was dressed in a tracksuit, and he was damp. He looked up when she came in and smiled. "Good, you're here. I've decided to take up running, but I'm not exactly fit. I'm dripping with sweat. Clean me up, will you?" He pulled his t-shirt off and Emma hesitated. She wasn't sure what he meant for her to do. Sighing impatiently, he pulled her towards him. "You're not a fool, are you? Lick me clean, bitch."
Her mouth was already full of the taste of her own cum, and now it mingled with the salty flavour of William's sweat. His skin felt clammy and horrible, and Emma felt completely shamed as she licked his chest and stomach. He lifted his arms and she moved up to lick underneath them, burying her nose in his underarm hair. She felt sickened by his taste and smell, and when he pulled down his trousers and boxer-shorts she had to fight not to pull away. He pushed her down and held her face in his arse-crack and she licked furiously, trying to ignore the taste of his shit. She moved down to his balls, and then his cock.
Before he got hard, though, he pushed her head away and sat down. "Do my feet, and then you can go downstairs." She tentatively began to lick his feet, and he sighed in relaxation. "That's it, whore. Make sure you get right in between the toes; that's where I get really filthy." Finally she was allowed to go. Her nose and mouth were full of the taste of his body, and she prayed she wouldn't be asked to do that again.
They didn't give her anything to take the taste away, and when James pushed her into her cage that night, she could still sense William in her mouth. Yet she couldn't help but be relieved to be crawling into the hard, metal cage. After the excesses of the day before, she couldn't believe that she wasn't going to be forced to do anything worse. Again, she fell asleep instantly.
The days passed slowly, and each one brought more degradation and humiliation. Occasionally they would have other people over, and those days would be the worst, as though they wanted to prove just how demeaning they could be. She would never get used to eating off the floor and doing her business outside, and she would never get used to being called bitch and whore. But she did grow to expect it. She wasn't surprised by anything they did to her anymore. Slowly but surely she was becoming what they wanted her to be: an object to be treated with disdain and contempt. She lost count of the number of days she had been their slave.
She could have been there months or just a couple of weeks, for all she knew. On occasion they found reason to punish her, and she was always expected to thank them for it. William didn't fuck her again like he had that first time, but he sometimes told her to get down on her hands and knees and would fuck her that way. When he fucked her she wasn't allowed to moan or talk; she had to bark like a dog. And if she didn't bark enough, or in the way he wanted, he would pull out and pound her arsehole until he was satisfied. He barely ever let her orgasm, and he always made her tell him how much she enjoyed it when he was done. She had to clean him off afterwards, as well, even when he'd fucked her in the arse. James never fucked her, and neither did any of the guests, although they were certainly allowed to anything else they wanted with her.
One evening, she was told to put on the outfit laid out in her cage, because they were going out. Although people had come to the house, they hadn't taken her out since the night they visited the pub and Daniel's house. With a little trepidation, Emma went upstairs. The skirt they had provided for her this time was even shorter than before: looking down she could clearly see her pussy-lips peeking out from the bottom, and she could feel that her arsehole was only just covered. The top was nothing more than a piece of fabric that barely covered her nipples. A pair of incredibly high heels completed the outfit. Last time she had looked like a common prostitute, now she looked like a crack-whore.
She tottered down the stairs to where James and William were waiting for her. "We won't be walking with you," James told her. "Follow us, but don't get too close. We don't want to be seen with a fucking slut like you."
"If anyone talks to you, smile and be polite; flirty, even. Thank people when they talk to you. If someone wants to touch you, you're to let them. Same answers as the night at the pub. Do you understand?"
Emma blushed, but nodded. They stepped outside and Emma made sure she stayed a little distance from James and William. She was praying that no-one would approach her. The first man that passed her looked her up and down, but far from being interested, he looked disgusted. "Put some clothes on, you fucking slag."
"Thank you," she muttered quietly.
The next person that passed was equally derogatory. "Do you really think you look sexy dressed like that? You look like a cow on the way to a meat-market."
On and on it went. Occasionally, a man would pass and make a suggestive comment, but on the whole men and women alike felt the need to tell her how ridiculous or sordid she looked, and every time she thanked them they would just look even more repulsed by her.
Then a man stepped in front of her and she had to stop. He was wearing a filthy, ragged rain-coat and he stank of alcohol. "Alright, darling?"
Emma managed a smile, and nodded. "Yes, thanks."
"Why have you got your pussy showing?"
Cringing inside, Emma somehow kept smiling. "It turns me on to let people see my cunt," she said, blushing.
The tramp's eyes grew wide, and he grinned. "You should watch your mouth," he said lecherously. "A filthy mouth like that could get you into trouble, don't you think?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"Not to worry. Tell me something, girlie." He leaned in close to her and his ripe scent filled Emma's nostrils. He must have gone months without a shower. "Does it turn you on to let people touch you, as well?"
Please, anything but this, Emma thought. "Yes," she said with a smile, feeling wretched inside.
The old man's smile widened, and Emma saw that he was missing several teeth. "Do you want to come with me into an alleyway?"
Emma glanced up, and saw James and William lounging casually on a nearby wall, looking for all the world like they didn't even know she was there. She felt at once relieved that they were nearby, and miserable that they clearly expected her to do whatever the tramp wanted. She forced her features into a smile. "Yes, thank you."
He rubbed his hands together, looking gleeful, and turned into an alleyway opposite. Emma shot a desperate look at her masters, and managed to catch William's eye. He just raised an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the alleyway. She would have to go with the tramp. "Are you coming, darling?" She followed the man, who gently pushed her against the wall. He leaned against her, and Emma felt sick. "Do you want me to stick a finger inside you?"
Emma had to work hard not to flinch away from his breath. "Yes, please."
"Are you sure?" He grinned again. "I don't wash my hands, you know. Not even when I take a piss or shit, and I've been rummaging through bins all day." He held them up to show her, and Emma saw that they were grimy with months of dirt. "Would it really turn you on to have my fingers fucking you?"
The tramp's eyes grew suspicious. "You're not a hooker, are you? I'm not going to pay."
Emma shook her head. "I'm not a prostitute."
He broke into his widest smile yet; it was practically a leer. "Then you're just filthy, aren't you?"
Without further conversation, he pushed a grubby finger deep into her cunt. "Do you like that? Tell me how much you like it."
"I love it. It turns me on." Emma had never felt less sexy in her life, but she was obviously putting on a good enough show for the tramp, because he pushed another finger inside her.
"Do you like that, bitch?"
"Yes," she moaned. She hated it. She wanted to run for the hills. But she knew William and James would be waiting. He started thrusting his two fingers in and out of her, rubbing her pussy painfully because he hadn't bothered to stimulate her first.
"Shall I put another finger in?" Emma nodded, and he withdrew his hand, before ramming three fingers roughly inside her. "Yeah, you fucking love that, don't you. You fucking love that." He seemed completely blind to the fact that Emma wasn't wet, wasn't moaning, and wasn't enjoying herself. He just kept shoving his fingers inside her. "Do you want another one? You want another one, don't you? Do you want my whole fist inside you?"
Emma had no choice but to say yes. He chuckled, and forced his whole fist into her pussy. She groaned at the intrusion, but the tramp took that as proof that she liked it. He wriggled his fist inside her, and she just closed her eyes and prayed it would be over soon. Finally he pulled out of her and grinned. He looked at her, clearly under the impression that he had done her a great favour. "Thank you," she said, when it became apparent he was waiting for her to speak.
He leered at her. "You're welcome, darling. It's not often I get to touch up something as pretty as you." He leaned in even closer as a thought struck him. "I don't suppose you want to touch me, do you?"
Barely able to believe what she was letting herself do, Emma nodded faintly. "Yes, if you'd like that."
His eyes lit up, and he pressed up against her to whisper in her ear. This close, the smell was almost overpowering. "Would you like to taste me as well?"
"Yes," Emma whispered.
He untied the rope holding up his trousers and let them drop to the floor, displaying the dirtiest penis Emma had ever seen. Slowly, she went to her knees and stared at the tramp's already-hard cock. Her training kicked in and, unwillingly, she looked up at the tramp. "Thank you for letting me touch your penis." He leered at her, and she bent down to kiss each of his disgusting, shit-stained shoes. Rising back up to look at his penis, she thanked it and then, trying to hold her breath, she leant in towards it. Maybe she'd be able to do this without really tasting him, she thought. Surely she'd be able to get him off with her hands, with her mouth barely touching him? She could even move away before he came. Tentatively, she wrapped her lips around the bulging head of his penis.
But as soon as her mouth was on him, the dirty old man twisted her hair in his fingers and thrust his cock down her throat. He pushed her head into his groin, and her nose was buried in his pubic hair. He smelt like stale piss and refuse, and Emma wanted to gag. Over and over again he pushed himself into her mouth, and it was impossible to avoid touching and tasting him with her tongue. "That's right," he panted. "Oh yeah, that's so good. Lick me, baby. Lick me all over. Get right under the foreskin like a good girl."
Some part of her knew that William and James would never know if she ignored his command, but she was so used to following orders by now that she just did as he asked. If he never washed his hands, Emma thought, he washed his penis even less frequently. It wasn't just the taste: as she ran her tongue over the head of his cock she could actually feel grit and dirt coming off and dissolving on her tongue.
At last she felt him stiffen, and he grabbed her head again to pull her close as he came, shooting semen down her throat. The salty taste mingled with something else, and she realised, to her horror, that he was pissing. In his drunk-addled mind he didn't seem to notice and he held her there, clamped to his groin, while he emptied his bladder into her mouth. She tried not to swallow, but he was holding her too tight and she had no other choice. There seemed to be no end to it, and Emma felt herself struggling to breathe as she gulped down the stream of hot urine.
When he finally pulled out of her mouth, his cock was dripping slightly. He pulled on her hair slightly with one hand; an accident as he leant against the wall to steady himself. The action caused her to tilt her head up towards him and, to make the degradation complete, a last dribble of piss came out and hit her on the face.
He let go of her hair then, and turned to lean properly on the wall. He was grinning like an idiot. "You're one hot girl," he told her. He seemed to think he was paying her a compliment. "I've never come that long before, I can tell you." Emma didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet. "Oh shit," he said suddenly. "I didn't piss on you, did I?"
Flushing, Emma nodded. "And in my mouth, when you were coming," she said quietly.
The tramp's eyes went wide. "Shit, I didn't realise. Why didn't you stop me?"
Again, James and William's training came to the fore. She shook her head and managed to drag a smile onto her face. "Because I liked it," she told him. "Thank you."
His eyes went even wider at that while his mind processed the information, and then he chuckled indulgently. "You're a right little dirty whore, ain't you?"
Emma nodded and smiled, feeling sick with herself. "Yes, I am."
Still chuckling to himself, he ruffled her hair. "Well, I suppose you've got to be getting somewhere, have you? Why else would you be dressed up like that? I would imagine it's not just to attract fine gentlemen like me," he said.
He seemed to think she was having a good time. She managed a weak smile, and said, "I should be getting on, actually." She was relieved he had given her a way to get out at last. She had been starting to worry he wouldn't dismiss her at all, and she wouldn't have put it past William and James to make her stay until he did.
He nodded genially. "Don't let me keep you. You get on your way."
She practically ran from the alleyway, to where James and William were stood. They were both laughing gleefully. "Well, we do have to be getting somewhere, as the fine gentleman said," William said with a grin. "Let's go."
Emma made to pull down the skirt, which had ridden up when she was kneeling in front of the tramp, and James slapped her hand away. "Did we say you could alter your clothing in any way?"
Flushing deeply, Emma shook her head. "No, master." But her skirt was practically round her waist, she thought desperately. She was showing everything to the world, and it would look like that was what she wanted if she just walked down the road without sorting it out. Her hand twitched once, and William grabbed her wrist tightly.