Earning Forgiveness Ch. 04

byMechanicalAngel©

"Leave it," he told her in a low voice that threatened all sorts of punishment if she didn't obey.

He let go of her and they moved away, Emma following them at a short distance again. The looks she got were even worse now, and her skirt rode even higher with every step she took. To make things worse, she could taste the tramp in her mouth and she could feel the track of urine drying on her face. She hadn't dared to wipe it away.

Finally they stopped outside a club that looked closed, and waited for Emma to catch up with them. "How do you feel?" James asked cheerfully.

"Fine master," Emma said, feeling mortified.

"I see not too many people were impressed by you. I'm not surprised; you look like a street-walker. You got the attention of the tramp, at least." He looked over at William. "I wish we'd known earlier that she had a taste for piss," he said casually, making William grin. "All this time we've been using a normal loo and we had a willing toilet slave right in front of us." Emma shivered at the implication, and James smiled. "Don't worry; we've got something else for you to do right now. There'll be lots of people in here who'll appreciate both your looks and your talents. We're going in now. Wait out here until someone comes to get you."

William pushed the door open and the descended into the club. Emma worked hard to leave her skirt as it was, and hoped that no-one would walk past. Finally, the door opened, and she could hear a male voice that she didn't recognise coming through a PA system. "Gentlemen, we are proud to present the whore of the evening."

Emma entered and stumbled down the stairs awkwardly in her heels. She tried to look around, but someone was shining a spot-light on her, and she couldn't see a thing. When she finally reached the bottom, she saw that the club wasn't too crowded, and that the patrons were exclusively men. They had left an aisle for her to walk down, and the aisle led to a raised platform. A strange contraption was hanging from the ceiling. Emma could feel their hungry eyes on her as she passed and climbed up onto the platform. She stood and waited for instructions, while the men stared at her.

"Now before we get started, let's take a moment to remember the rules," the same male voice said. "Only five gentlemen at a time allowed: two in each hole and one in the mouth. Once you've picked your spot you can't change your mind, so choose carefully. If you want another go, feel free to get back in line. If you try to jump the queue you'll be ejected from the club. No violence: this whore belongs to someone and we don't want to send her back damaged. The only exception to this rule is that if she's sucking you off and you think she's not putting her all into it, you can slap her face or tits. Just keep in mind that excessive slapping will get you put to the back of the line. But her owners have told us that you can say what you like to her no matter how vicious or sick, so don't feel too bad that you can't hit her. You can come where you like. And let's keep the line moving: when you've finished up, move away. Do we understand the rules, gentlemen?"

There was a collective roar in the affirmative. Emma had turned pale. She tried to count the number of men there, but what had seemed to be a relatively small crowd when she arrived had grown in her mind since the revelation that they would all be fucking her. They would take all night, surely? Emma had not been fucked by anyone but William since she had been made a slave, and now she was expected to take two men in her pussy and two men in her arse. She waited for the next moment with dread.

"I'm glad to hear it. Undress yourself, whore, and get ready to fuck."

Wretchedly, Emma pulled off her top to cheers, and unzipped her skirt. She looked about for guidance, and a man appeared at the side of the stage. He was unshaven and his hands were filthy. He pulled her towards the contraption and she realised it was to hold her in a convenient position for the men to fuck her. A belt was attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling, and he fastened it around her waist, padlocking it in place. Then he lifted her leg up and hooked it over a padded wooden bench so it was hanging off the floor, and locked it in place on the bench. He did the same with her other leg, so that she was suspended off the floor in a sitting position with her legs spread wide, her weight supported equally by the benches and the belt. Finally, he cuffed her wrists to hooks on either side of the belt. She was locked in and unable to move anything but her head. The man moved away and into the shadows.

"OK gentlemen, it looks like she's ready. Let's have the first five up on stage."

The cheering grew louder, and five men clambered up onto the platform. Emma caught a glimpse of a cock bigger than she had ever seen before, and to her horror the man was moving towards her arsehole. Without ceremony, he thrust himself deep into her arse and she clenched her teeth to avoid crying out. Within minutes, another cock had joined it, and her arsehole felt painfully stretched. It had never been this bad before; not even with the butt-plugs. At least those had been lubricated. A fat man leered at her and pushed his cock into her pussy, alongside a skinny man who looked eager and lecherous. She was in agony, with the men pounding her in unison. No-one had bothered to stimulate her first, and she wasn't even slightly wet.

"Let's see if you're worth the entrance fee then, whore." Emma looked towards the man that had spoken and saw a huge cock in front of her face. She opened her mouth obediently, and he drove his cock straight down her throat. It hit her hard and she coughed and spluttered. She was not used to deep-throating, and she knew she had to learn quickly or suffocate. The man withdrew and slapped her hard across the face bringing tears of pain to her eyes. "Do better, bitch," he commanded.

He drove into her again, and this time she managed to swallow his length. Anxiously she moved her head back and forth, trying to find a rhythm with the cocks that were hammering at her arsehole and pussy. She sucked and licked at his penis, trying to make him come as quickly as possible so she could move onto the next one.

The skinny man moaned once and came deep inside her cunt, filling her with come. He withdrew and wiped his cock clean on her leg, walking off without another word. He had barely taken two steps away when another man took his place. Emma was almost grateful that the man had come inside her: it meant that she had something that would do as lubrication.

The man she was sucking off slapped her hard again, and she tried to focus on pleasuring him. One of the other men came, and he walked around to look at her. "I do love a tight arsehole," he said with a smirk. "It's a pity I didn't get one. You could fit a train in that gaping hole." He walked away, and another man quickly came up and entered her arse.

There seemed to be an infinite number of men waiting, each one ready to take over as soon as another shot his load. Emma was covered in come: it was dripping from both holes, she had it in her hair and up her nose, all over her tits and stomach, and she must have swallowed a gallon already. There was no let-up from the pounding. Most of them just walked away when they were done, but some wanted to talk to her; wanted to tell her how good or bad they thought she was; wanted to let her know how filthy she was. Emma felt as though she was going to pass out from exhaustion, yet she had to stay alert or she would get a hard slap from a man who thought she wasn't trying hard enough to suck his dick.

Both her holes felt stretched beyond belief, and her jaw and tongue were aching. She was even too tired to feel humiliated, becoming as robotic in her movements as she could manage. Eventually, the men started to come round again. They had obviously waited in line for a second go, and Emma hoped that meant her ordeal was almost over.

But she was wrong. The second time around the men took longer to come, and they seemed to blame her for it, punishing her by ramming into her even harder. The man who had been the first to push into her arse-hole approached with a nasty grin. "Let's see if your mouth's any better than your fucking arse, bitch." She opened her mouth obediently, and she recoiled at the taste on his cock. He smiled even more at that. "I bet you love the taste of your own shit in your mouth don't you, you filthy fucking whore?"

On and on it went, some of the men even coming back for a third go. Finally, there was less of them; only one in her arsehole and one in her cunt, or just one in her mouth. After what felt like hours, the onslaught finally stopped, and Emma was left alone, exhausted and soaked in come.

The same man who had strapped her in came to release her from the contraption, grinning. "I'll bet you enjoyed that, didn't you?"

Emma didn't answer. She was unsteady on her feet and put a hand out to one of the benches to steady herself. That, too, was slick with come, and Emma almost slipped. The man laughed loudly and walked away.

William and James had been standing at the back of the club, and now came forwards. A smartly-dressed man came to greet them, smiling widely. "Thank you so much for bringing the whore to our little club. I trust it was everything you expected?"

James shook his hand warmly and nodded. "We couldn't have hoped for anything better. Thank you for having us."

"Not at all, don't mention it. And here's a cheque for your share of the takings. We did quite well tonight. Most of the men got back in line for a second go, and that doesn't always happen."

They continued to make small talk that Emma barely listened to, and eventually James came up and clipped the lead onto her collar. "Come on whore, we're leaving."

She followed him up the stairs of the club, and it was only when the cold air hit her that she realised she was still naked. Neither James nor William seemed to care, and Emma knew better than to mention it. It was no doubt part of the plan to make the night's indignities complete.

Luckily, they met no-one coming back, and Emma longed for her cage. When they were in the living room, James told her to stand in front of them. She did so, and waited to hear what they wanted from her now. Why wouldn't they just let her sleep?

"It's been almost a month," he said casually, "so your time here is almost up."

"Yes, master." Emma didn't feel as relieved by that thought as she had expected. She wasn't sure how she would be able to go back now, having allowed them to do so much to her.

"I want you to be honest with yourself now. I've seen you suck men off and eat women out. I've made you piss and shit in the garden and bark like a dog. I've tied you up, beaten you, happily handed you over to my friends and acquaintances to abuse as they wish, and never once told you how much you mean to me. Would you agree with all that?"

"Yes master," Emma said slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

"And this evening, I allowed you to be fucked by people that I had never met before, in return for money. If you are truly honest with yourself, do you really believe that we could be a couple again?"

Emma was silent for a moment. She had entered into this thinking it would be a game just between her and James; a token to prove that she was sorry. She had expected him to make her go down on him, fetch him beers and maybe tidy up a bit before he forgave her. And then when she had seen William standing in the doorway, she had assumed that it would be just the three of them. She tried to work out why she hadn't stopped it all when it had got worse. Why hadn't she walked away at that horrible party? She must have known that she could never be James' girlfriend again; not after all that. How would she ever be able to look at him the same way? "No, I don't think we could, master," she admitted quietly.

"You haven't thought it was possible for a while now, so why did you keep going?"

It was a difficult question, and one that Emma couldn't answer. "I don't know, master."

"I think I do. Would you like to hear what I think, bitch?"

"Yes, master."

"I think that deep down, somewhere, you enjoyed it. You like being treated like a piece of shit, and this was the perfect excuse. If you ever felt that what you were doing was wrong, you could just tell yourself that you were doing it for us, so that we could be together again. Do you think that might be true? Honestly, now."

"No, master." Of course that wasn't true, she wanted to scream. How could they think she had enjoyed the things they had done to her?

James laughed. "No? Why did you do it, then? You begged William to fuck you harder; you lapped food up from the floor like you were born to it. And you came tonight, didn't you?"

Emma flushed a deep red, and looked at the floor. "Yes, master."

"Yes master," James mimicked, and laughed again. "You were being fucked by men you didn't know and you came. I've seen the look you got in your eye. Yes, you've been humiliated. Yes, you feel degraded beyond belief. And it felt good, didn't it? When you were barking like a dog while William fucked you, it made the orgasm just a little bit better than usual, didn't it? I bet you were even a little bit turned on when that filthy tramp was pissing in your mouth."

Emma felt confused, and didn't know what to say. It was true that she hadn't stopped them at any point; she hadn't just turned around and walked out of the house. And it was true that she had done everything they had told her to without questioning it. She couldn't deny that she had come when William had made her bark like a dog. But she was convinced that she hadn't enjoyed it. It was just a natural reaction to orgasm during sex; it had nothing to do with the humiliation. Did it? Emma's thoughts were muddled, and she couldn't answer.

"He asked you a question, whore. Deep down, did you like being treated like a worthless object?"

"I – I don't know, master."

William stood up and ran his thumb over her clit, sending sparks of electricity through her body. "Then let me ask you an easier question," he said, still rubbing her clit. "Do you like this?"

"Yes master," she replied a little breathlessly.

"And another easy question. If you didn't enjoy it, why are you still standing her when James has already told you he's never going to get back with you?"

For the first time that night, Emma was being touched gently. The pleasure shooting through her body was mixing her thoughts up even more, and she mumbled something about having made a promise.

William laughed harshly. "That's rubbish, and you know it is. If you didn't want to stay, you would have left by now. You like being treated like this, don't you?"

He stroked her clit harder, and Emma couldn't help herself. "Yes master," she moaned.

William stepped away, satisfied with the answer. "We can keep going, if you want." Emma frowned at him, the unspoken question in her eyes. "It's easy. You can continue to be a slave. Would you like that?" Emma was silent, and William was back on his feet again, caressing her clit. She moaned softly. "I asked you a question. Would you like to continue to be a slave?"

Again, Emma couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth. "Yes, master."

William's eyes were full of satisfaction. "Would you like to be a slave for the rest of your life?"

"Yes master," Emma sighed, not really aware of what she was agreeing to.

"We can make that happen, if you'd like." William's voice was soft and gentle, Emma was exhausted, and the movement on her clit was soothing. "Would you like us to make it happen?"

"Yes, master."

"We've got a legal contract here that essentially says you belong to me. It can't be in both our names, but I'll share you with James, of course. There's a whole lot of legalese in there that would just confuse you, but all it really says is that I own you. Would you like to sign it? James will sign as the witness."

He slowly eased one finger inside her and crooked it, hitting her g-spot. She struggled against the pleasure and the tiredness and tried to focus on what they were saying, and William pushed another finger into her pussy. "Would you like to sign it?" he asked again, as he slowly eased his fingers in and out of her. After the evening's onslaught, it felt wonderful to be caressed so carefully. Emma closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink under. "Would you like to sign?" William whispered, still moving his fingers inside her.

"Yes," she breathed.

James brought the contract over and handed Emma a pen. She signed where he showed her with barely a glance at the paper, and she missed the look that James and William shared.

"Come on," William said tenderly, taking her lead. "You've had a long day. I'm sure you'd like to get up to your cage and go to sleep, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, master."

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