Lois Learns Submission

"Thanks for the ride Cal, that's a fine little slut you got yourself there."

Before getting out Leo took his index finger and dabbed a bit of cum from my upper lip which he then smeared across my nipple.

"As for you my pet, I look forward to tapping that ass of yours."

As Leo left the car I could see the driver looking on with a leer and it occurred to me that he had probably watched the whole thing from the front seat.

After Leo got out and we resumed our journey, Cal pulled out a mirror and handed it to me.

"Look at yourself Lois, you look like a two dollar whore. And you behave like one too. Leo, by the way, is Mr. May's lead lawyer. You'll meet him again tomorrow."

While Cal chuckled to himself my heart slowly sank. I had just allowed the lead lawyer for the client abuse me in the vilest way imaginable.

"You bastard!" I cried.

"Don't worry pet—I think you helped your case. Besides Leo's a family guy you won't have to service that fat cock of his more than once or twice a month."

"Service that fat cock?" What on earth could he be talking about.

"Ok, next order of business is clothes." He took me to one of those adult entertainment places where dancers shop for the strip tease shows. I was humiliated beyond belief when he made me model that most outrageous outfits in front his driver and the store clerk. When he was finally satisfied with our purchases he asked the clerk if there would be any discount for a blow job.

I was then made to get behind the counter and suck off the clerk while late-night shoppers purchased their jerk off magazines, making ribald comments about the middle-aged whore as they left. By the time that kid blew his spunk on my tits my lips and throat were parched, but when I asked for a drink the only thing I got was more vodka on ice. I had downed about a half-a-glass when the limo slowed again.

We parked at a strip joint on the edge of town and I did not have to wait very long to figure out what we were doing here.

"Ok, now look bitch, I want to see you do a strip tease in front of a group of men and the quickest way to do it is for you to go in here and apply for a job as a dancer. If they hire you they'll be sure to have you go on tonight just to see how you'll do. So you are going to go in there and convince them to hire you."

My heart sank. This might sound weird, but it was one thing to suck someone off in a limo in front of a driver or in a store in front of people who really couldn't see who I was and quite another to dance naked in front of a bunch of horny men. I didn't see how I could do it. Besides I'm practically forty and while I'm still considered attractive with my clothes on with them off it is plain to see that gravity has not been kind.

Cal, sensing my hesitation, pulled a hankie from his pants and wiped a bit of dried cum off my upper lip.

"You can do it Lois. I'm confident you can do it. And you know why?" I nodded my head no.

"You'll do it because you don't want to disappoint me."

It was then that I started to cry.

"Come now," Cal chided, "You're tougher than that—now go in there and get the job." And with that he opened the door, shoved me out onto the parking lot, and tossed the strippers outfits on the ground beside me. Gathering myself as best I could I went into the club and asked who I'd see about getting a job.

"Big E over there is the manager," the girl told me, "but aren't you a little too old for this?"

Suddenly, I found my assertiveness again. "Mind your own business bitch!" I grumbled and headed in the direction of the fat man who ran the place.

When I told him what I had in mind he laughed at me.

"Aren't you a little old? And maybe a little drunk?"

I was tottering a bit by then. The only thing I'd eaten had been the oysters, and, what with five or six vodkas in me I was a little smashed.

"Go home honey and sleep it off."

I was a little put off, yet relieved to discover that they wouldn't have me, but when I got back to the car and told Cal he told me that if I better get the job or all bets were off. I tried to reason with him, but he told me that I hadn't tried hard enough.

"Maybe you need to offer him something," Cal intimated with a sneer. "In the meantime, I'm going in. You better be up on that stage real soon."

Here again, I could have asked for a cab and gone away. But I wasn't really thinking right. It was a combination of what had already transpired—never in my life could I have imagined that I would find myself on my knees under a counter sucking off the clerk at an adult bookstore. And then there was that thing with Leo. Too much had already happened. And I was remembering that orgasm I'd had earlier, too. Was it possible that it could happen again, and again, and on and on.

Bottom line was: I needed to know. When I went back in it was obvious that Cal had said something to the manager. He welcomed back into the office with a smile.

"Maybe I was a bit hasty," he lied. "fill out this application. Make sure it's accurate we have to verify it before you can go onstage." The application wanted my current address, other employment, references, and so on. "Shit!" I thought to myself, who a I going to list as a reference.

I filled that thing out in complete horror of what might happen if it ever got out. I finally listed my ex as a reference. So what, if he found out? He'd think it was a joke.

I was no more than finished when Big E walked back in with the brunette bitch who'd insulted me earlier. He barely looked over the form before telling me to strip. I felt awkward taking my clothes off in front of Big E. He was a big man and he had this way of looking at me. By the time I removed my bra I was shaking.

"They looked like a couple of hanged men," the brunette shook me out of my reverie with that assessment of my ample but aging breasts.

"Shut up Karen, just get up on the table like I told you. And you, turn around honey let's get a look at that ass of yours."

"Oh no, you're in trouble now," Karen laughed and hoisted her barely-clad body up on the table. I felt his hands on my ass massaging my cheeks while coaxing me towards Karen on the counter.

"Now here's the deal, honey. You're going to lick this young lady's pussy until she comes while I fuck that plump little ass of yours."

"No, I, I," I tried to pull away but his massive hands had pinned me against Karen who was directing my head to her bare vulva. She smashed my face against herself with a force that not only cut off my conversation, but further lacerated my lower lip as well.

If I had been allowed a chance to speak I wanted to tell E that I'd never had it back there, it would not have mattered because that's exactly what he was looking for.

In any event for what turned out to be only ten minutes—but seemed like an eternity—my lips were forced against Karen's quim while Big E took my cherry ass. And as soon as his member seared my unsuspecting rectum, I knew why they called him Big E.

At first I started to fight against the intrusion, but that was the wrong strategy.

"Don't you just love it when they fight?" Big E chuckled as he smacked the living shit out of my backside. Whimpering my teeth accidentally grazed Karen's outer labia.

"Ouch! Bitch!" She slapped my face and then roughly adjusted my head away from the offended area. "E show this bitch what happens if she bites me again.

I felt something warm against my breast, then hot, then white hot. The bastard was burning my tit with his cigarette. I flinched to get away just as he thrust deeper still into my bum.

"Oh, fuck that felt good, do it again bitch!" He burned me again and I involuntarily clenched my ass again. This went on another five times and each time I clenched as hard as I could as soon as I felt the least trace of heat. My exertions finally caused him to let out a monstrous growl as he emptied himself into my bowels.

Imagine my humiliation when the sensation of his orgasm against my innards sent me into a spontaneous one of my own.

"Fucking bitch got off on it!" Karen cried out as she came all over my face.

As quickly as it happened it was over, E backed away, pulled up his pants, gave my ass a firm swat, and then ran a finger across my dripping pussy.

"Clean my cum and your shit out of your ass crack and then get up onstage."

As I turned to collect my skimpy outfit Karen chimed in:

"Hey honey, if you can't make it with the boys up there, I could probably get you a job licking pussy—bull dikes mostly, not much different than a truck driver. Anyway, you did a helluva job on me."

Karen then kissed me on the mouth and ran her hands up and down my naked body.

"Now go clean up you little slut—you smell like shit."

The lights of the stage were in my eyes and I could not immediately tell who are how many were in the room. As I tried to move in time with the dance music, I could already hear a few hoots of disapproval.

"Get off the stage old biddie!"

I thought I recognized the voice and for a second I was even more horrified—if possible. Of course, I realized that the important thing was to just try to be one of those dancers. Surprisingly, the alcohol helped in this regard, giving me courage to both shed apparel and to make increasingly lewd gestures to the throng beyond the lights.

As one song shifted into the next and I began to achieve a kind of rhythm I dared a glance around the room, looking for Cal. There he was, leaning against a pole in the back, his driver and a couple other guys around him. At first I did not recognize the other guys, but then I did. Fred, Pete, and Jack! Christ! They were outside sales reps whom I'd dissed at the district meeting last month.

Seeing them threw me out of focus and, as I made my turn around the pole, feigned towards it, and then went to throw my legs around it as I had been instructed I miscalculated the jump. My naked quim went slamming into the pole a direct hit on my clit. Pow! Instant orgasm!

I was quickly losing control of my senses and then there they were. The guys were making their way to the stage. When they got there, I tried to ignore them but seeing as they were the only ones waving any dough, I had to go over.

"Oh it is all over for you," Pete laughed waving a finger. "We've got videos, photos. We've got witnesses."

"Yeah, I think that kid in the porno shop was under-age," Jack, biggest asshole of the three, offered this while jamming a dollar bill into my ass crack

"Please," I weakly pleaded.

Then Cal stepped up.

"If you want to keep any sort of life at all then: Here's an address. Be there as soon as you get off work."

The next two hours were pure horror. The least of which was a particularly mean-spirited ploy by that donkey-cock Big E. When he saw that I was hardly making any tips. He set up a contest wherein a shot glass was placed in my pussy and whomever could land a dollar bill in it would win a prize.

My humiliation was complete when I became so wet that the glass would either fall completely into my pussy or out of my pussy. After one last time of trying to make it work, Big E exploded screaming:

"Goddamn you really are a whore!"

The comment was so loud that a group of guys started taking up the chant.

"Whore, whore, whore."

It was that taunt that was in my ears when I finally left the club clutching the paper with the address Cal had given me. This, too, was a sort of humiliation. Unbeknownst to me Calvin had grabbed my clothes and I had left my purse in the limo.

2am a big work day coming up in six hours, dressed like a whore, ass, jaw, pussy, every nerve in my body tingling. Trying to get a cab just to go some where to make some sort of crazy sense of the mess my life had suddenly become.

Again, I don't understand what it was that caused me to go to Cal instead of home and to bed. Had I not already done enough damage to my life. Sure the orgasms had been monstrous, but wasn't that enough? To go on with the madness could destroy every thing I had made. Could it get any worse?

It did.

First, that bitch Karen stole all the tips out of the apron pocket of my French maid outfit. And the only payment the cab driver would take was a fuck. He was fat and disgusting and I could not imagine him in my pussy, which, other than being fingered rather hard, had remained relatively unscathed. So I told him to go ahead and throw it my ass. Of course, he did it to me on the hood of the car in the driveway outside of Calvin's place with a bunch of drunken colleagues watching from the window. The stupid cabbie even left the lights on.

"You really are a whore, Lois," Fred yelled out to me as the cabbie finished and pulled up his pants.

"Now get up here and learn about your new life."

I don't know why but I found myself hurrying up those steps to meet my fate. I remember the distinct feeling of the cabbie's cum as it slipped out my thoroughly stretched sphincter. Cal was standing there with a collar on which the words "slave bitch" were deeply embossed.

"Strip my pet. We all need sleep and you still have five cocks to sate." The guys behind him laughed.

I started to speak, but stopped when Cal put his finger to my lips.

"In this house you do not speak unless you are asked to speak. Understand."

"Ye-" I had not gotten the word out of my mouth when for the umpteenth time that night my face got slapped.

And now I was thoroughly broken. Sobbing without making a sound, I removed my soiled clothes, got down on my knees and averted my gaze to the floor.

"Well, now, would you lookie there boys. I told you I could do it. And she's going to be a good little submissive from now on. Isn't that right little slave bitch—and remember to nod your head as you have not been asked to speak."

Fighting back the tears I nodded my head. Cal came over and put his hand under my chin, lifted it towards him and then placed the collar around my neck.

"All right slave bitch, here's the deal: From this point forward we pretty much own you. Leo will show you the papers tomorrow—he's in on this too. So are a bunch of other people, or rather, they will be. You're going to keep your job at the office, but you're also going to work as a dancer, concierge, call girl, or whatever it is that we decide. You can opt out any time you want, but when you do there won't be anyone to protect you from all the consequences of all the actions you have already taken or will take in the future."

"You have to stop thinking about yourself as anything other than a possession, the sex toy, of an ever-growing group of people. Now, I myself figure you'll opt out before long, but in the meantime I can guarantee you that every nerve-ending you have will always be a jangling.

"Which is to say we all sincerely hope you'll come to enjoy the lifestyle."

I was stunned. A million questions went through my mind. And I knew I had to let them go. That was pretty easy given Calvin's next command.

"All right guys let's get the ropes and get this over with."

Then my eyes were covered, my arms and legs put into ropes and slowly my body was lifted into the air. Next, leather straps supporting my lower back and under my upper thighs were slid in place. In the end I was left hanging in the shape of a ball with my ankles pulled apart and moved back almost level with my ears. I could feel my ass and pussy pulled open and fully exposed.

Then it happened. Defenseless, I was left to the sick pleasure of five men whom I'd belittled and scorned. They penetrated me with all manner of devices. Clamped my nipples and slapped my sex. They put hickies on nearly every square inch of my neck and breasts. They licked me until I was close to orgasm, but they would not let me cum.

And then they fucked me. They fucked me in every hole—sometimes two or three at a time. They fucked me and they fucked me and they fucked me. I am ashamed to admit this but I loved it. I loved it so much and came so hard with so much noise so many times that they finally put a gag in my mouth because they were tired of hearing me beg for more.

Finally, when they could cum no more. When the batteries of their vibrators had died against my cum-soaked, tingling flesh, when every dream of their perverted imagination had been given life, they took me down from the ropes, hosed me off in the back yard, dried me off, and put me to bed.

When I awakened the next morning the TV was blaring. It was footage from the previous evening. The fury of the assault should have shocked my senses. Instead it mesmerized me. These men, dripping with sweat, fucked me with cocks hard enough to smash coconuts and I mean to tell you they were really ramming it home.

Any self-respecting person would have turned it off. The scene was one of a gang of angry men completely dominating a helpless woman and the woman begging for them not to stop. Being the woman in the scene should have disgusted me but it did not.

Indeed, despite being battered and sore and deeply worried, I had two fingers snaked beneath the covers cautiously touching myself. Touching myself while watching myself being gang-raped—what had become of me?

When I heard footsteps in the hall and actually hoped it was someone coming to fuck me, to abuse me, to treat me like a whore.

Too, I think I like the title on my new collar: Slave Bitch. That's me.