Payback, Inc. - A Serial Cad

Rafe's mind was racing. Three years. Shit. That dated back to the first time he'd seduced a wife into divorcing her husband, before taking all she'd won, and dumping her. All mostly legal, if not particularly moral. Then again, morals wasn't Rafe's strong suit. His mumbled response only brought forth a laugh.

A face appeared above him, blocking out the glare of the light. Shit. He was looking up at Bill Clinton. "Repeat after me, Rafe. I did not have sexual relations with that woman." A cruel laugh echoed in his ears before he attempted to scream for the first time, as the pain shot through his foot.

Another face joined the first. "I didn't steal their money. I am not a crook," Nixon said, and the pain in his left foot matched that in his right, his body going rigid, fighting against his restraints.

"Relax," Slick Willy said. "Don't waste energy fighting it. You've got a long lesson ahead of you. Besides, even if you were to somehow free yourself, what are you going to do? You're four miles out to sea. You gonna swim to shore, you bad boy? The blood would only attract sharks. Although I guess that might be an easier way to go than what we have intended for you."

Rafe realized that perhaps going after the wives of wealthy, powerful men might have been a mistake after all. It was one of his last clear thoughts for quite a while.

~ * ~ * ~

Joyce was cold. She opened her eyes, and rolled over on the chilly stone. The chain at her neck rattled. A blow to her leg had her draw it back to her body quickly.

"Keep to your own side, you stupid slut."

She looked beside her, and froze, her mind unable to process the information before. her. Three naked women were squatting in a row, chained to rings on the floor. They looked dirty and haggard.

"Don't tease her, Victoria."

A voice from behind her had Joyce turning her head. Another woman stood over her. Attractive, dressed in nothing but diaphanous silks, a collar on her neck. "Nice to see you're back with us, Joyce. Here, eat and drink. You're going to need your energy. Quickly before they take it from you."

The bowl set before her appeared to have oatmeal in it. A plastic water bottle was set beside it.

"Take the pills after the meal. It will help dull the pain for a while," the woman said.

"Pain?"

The woman dropped to one knee, exposing her privates with nary a care. Her voice was soft and sympathetic. "Yes, dear. Pain. I'm not sure what you've done, but I'm certain that for some reason your husband, whoever he is, is very disappointed in you. You're about to be punished."

"Punished? Dale would never—"

"Trust me, honey. You're here. Dale will and has. You made a big mistake. Whatever it is, be apologetic, regretful, and as accommodating as possible. It's not going to change your future, but it might make it just a little more bearable, and that's all you can hope for at the moment." She stood up abruptly and quickly walked away, disappearing into one of the small cells along the walls of the room she was in.

Moments later a horn sounded, and a blue strobe went off three times. She heard the grinding of metal, and the women beside her were getting to their knees, moving forward to a line painted on the ground before all of them. A door closed loudly somewhere behind her. She looked around for something to cover up with as she heard men's voices.

"Hurry, stupid," the woman beside her hissed.

Joyce was confused, dazed, slow to adjust to her new circumstances. She reached down with her hand, and grabbed some of the oatmeal, shoving it in her mouth. Before she could stuff another handful in, a hand gripped her by the hair, yanking her head back. She looked up into hard, unforgiving eyes. A stranger, tall, powerful looking, naked to the waist. "You married this piece of shit?"

Piece of shit? She was about to speak back, when she heard her salvation. "I did."

She knew that soft voice. Her husband. Dale. She knew she was safe now. He was always putty in her hands. Easygoing, gentle, as kind a man as existed. She turned to face him, speaking with her mouth half full. "Dale! You've come for me! Help me baby, I . . . I don't know what's happening. They're hurting me."

Dale reached down and picked up the water bottle. "Drink, Joyce. Swallow whatever that is in your mouth, and drink. I can barely understand you."

She wiped her mouth with the side of her hand, and drank from the bottle. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was, and the bottle was half empty before she released it. She looked around, and saw she was bracketed by two strangers now, her husband in front of her. "Baby—"

"Hush, Joyce. I'm very cross with you," Dale said. She saw a hardness in his eyes she'd never seen before. He opened his pants and drew out his dick. Dicklet she'd called it.

"Suck, Joyce. Suck my cock. Make it good, and perhaps, perhaps I say, I'll put lube on it before I take that ass of yours that should have been mine. The ass you so willingly gave to your adulterous lover, you stupid, cheating cunt."

"Dale! Don't you dare AAAGH!" she screamed as she felt the vicious lash come down on her back.

"Speak only when you're given permission, slave," the man on her left said calmly.

"I'm not a — AAIIEE!" she shrieked as two more blows rained down in succession, this time from the man on her other side.

"Dale! You can't let them—" Three rapid lashes had her hissing in pain, huddling into a ball.

"Slow learner," one of the men said.

"It's four next time, stupid. Don't speak. Obey."

She looked up through the misty tears in her eyes. She saw her husband's cock before her. "Suck, slave."

She was slow to respond. A quick lash, between her shoulders had her leaping forward to take his soft flesh into her mouth.

Dale brushed her hair back. "I told you she could learn," he said with pride. "See, Honey. That's not so bad, is it? If only you'd done this instead of humiliating me with that idiot. You'd be out shopping with your friends, now, spending my money, instead of here. Big mistake."

She sucked, surprised that he wasn't already hard. Usually her slightest touch would stiffen him, and he would already have loosed his load. She looked up at him in confusion.

"How does she taste?" Dale laughed.

Joyce realized that the cock in her mouth was dirty, and it didn't take a Rhodes Scholar to understand why he wasn't instantly hard. He'd been drained. Thoroughly.

"Slave Doreen! Get your ass out here!" the man at her side shouted.

The girl from earlier quickly walked out, head bowed, and dropped to her knees.

"What did I tell you about feeding the new sluts?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, Master. Perhaps you'd like to punish me?" She looked up and smiled.

"Damn, you are a pain in my ass, Doreen," the man said.

Joyce continued sucking, doing her best, fear prompting her. She felt an odd sense of accomplishment as she felt the tubular flesh swell.

"I'm sorry, Master. Perhaps Master would like to be a pain in my undeserving ass?"

"This is not a game, Slave Doreen. I'm not happy."

The woman whimpered, and dropped to the ground before him, her face on his feet. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm so sorry. You know how it pains me to see them suffer."

The man reached down and lifted her head. "I know. You fed this one. Now she's your responsibility. Teach her the rules. She fucks up, I'm going to have them take it out on both of you. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Master. As you wish." The woman leaned over, her voice pitched low, breathing in Joyce's ear. "Worship that cock you stupid little bitch. Adore it, yearn for it, make it your entire world. Give that man the pleasure he deserves, and plead for more. If I have to pay for your mistakes, you're going to regret it."

In her peripheral vision, Joyce saw the man beside her walk away, lift the chained woman next to her up by her hips, and start fucking her without speaking a word.

"Thank you, Master Stu," the other slave said.

The cock inside Joyce's mouth was finally hard. She was able to do more, proving her worth. It hadn't taken her long to realize her world had changed. No more silks and satin. No more Dolce and Gabanna. No more Rafe's huge cock.

She felt a hand cuff her head. "Pay attention, stupid! No daydreaming. You will do your best always!"

Suddenly the cock was gone, her mouth empty. "Fuck. It's not worth the effort. Why the hell did I ever want a blowjob from this one?" Dale said.

"Master, may I?" the slave in the silks pleaded.

Dale turned to her, and moaned when her lips engulfed him. After only a few seconds, he groaned. "Damn. What's this one called?"

"Slave Doreen."

Slave Doreen gazed up at him adoringly, her eyes conveying her desire, while her mouth demonstrated her prodigious talent.

"You think you can teach stupid how to do that?" Dale asked, nodded toward his wife.

Doreen pulled away slowly, teasing him, licking his length before responding. "In time, Master Dale. Even the stupidest can learn, sir." She had barely finished speaking before her warm mouth was back to work.

"Do it," Dale groaned. "I don't want it said that I brought something useless to the table."

Joyce watched in misery, as the slave girl eagerly sucked his cock. The cock that was supposed to be hers and hers only. Her husband's cock. She heard the squeal of an orgasm from her other side, where the chained slave was groveling, thanking the man using her, profusely.

The new girl whimpered as the lash fell on her. "Pay attention slave Stupid. Learn something, or you're not going to enjoy your stay with us very much."

"Yes, M-m-master. Sorry Master," she said, her eyes focused on her husband's cock where it disappeared into the slave's mouth repeatedly. She shuddered in misery, when she heard the familiar groan, as her man came hard.

She looked up into his face, and saw he was watching her. "That's how you suck cock," he said.

She nodded. "I'll learn."

She grunted as the whip thudded against her lower back. The girl in the veils hissed at her. "Master!"

"I'll learn, Master. I will," Joyce said quickly.

"Make sure you do. You've got eight years of slacking to make up for."

~ * ~ * ~

Rafe was talking. Answering any and all questions. Questions that weren't even asked. Confessing to any sin he'd ever even considered doing. Signing whatever was placed in front of him, hoping for even the shortest respite from pain.

He had hope. He thought he was a goner for sure, but the way they were disabling him, and how they treated his wounds, had him convinced they wanted him alive. It was a shred of hope, but he hung onto it.

Then things turned ugly.

~ * ~ * ~

Slave Joyce groveled and pleaded. She rubbed against his leg as he walked by. "Please, sir," she whispered, her voice filled with need.

"Please what?"

"Choose me. Use me. Allow me to pleasure you. Train me, Master."

"Why would I use you, when I have all these others here? You're the worst fuck in the house," he sneered.

"Please, Master. I'm not worthy, I know. But none will try as hard as slave Joyce. None."

"So now you want me? You want my dicklet?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Allow me to show you."

He laughed brushing her away. "No."

She slumped to the ground, passed over again. She watched her husband release the skinny brunette, laughing as he escorted her away.

She gritted her teeth, masking her emotions as the cruel one yanked on her leash. Freed from the ring, she followed him on her callused hands and scabbed over knees to the dreaded room. She promised herself she wouldn't scream this time. She'd suffer in dignity. The promise lasted all of 30 seconds.

~ * ~ * ~

Rafe could feel the movement of air across his skin. The heat of the sun. The grit of the sand underneath him. He called out for help.

"Hungh!"

Without lips or tongue, with no teeth, it was hard to communicate. Blinded, he couldn't see if anyone was around to assist him. With his legs splinted, his kneecaps shattered, he couldn't move. He cried out again, turning his torso, listening for any response. He twisted the other way too quickly, and started to fall over. He put out his hands to brace himself, and his palms hit the hot sand, his single remaining finger dug into the grains. He heard voices, movement . . . running? Then the shrieking started.

He had a bad feeling he'd be hearing a lot more of that for whatever remained of his life.

~ * ~ * ~

Joyce knelt quietly, awaiting their decision.

"It's been six months, Dale. Your choice."

Joyce wanted to sit up and beg. Plead. But she had learned better. She didn't move, not a twitch.

"She's still incompetent," Dale muttered.

"Yes. But she has improved. She's slow, but she can learn."

"And if I say no?" Dale asked.

Joyce shuddered at the thought.

"She remains part of the common pool. She'll continue to be trained. We'll find a use for her, of course. It's not like she's unattractive."

"Eight years I wasted on her. Eight."

"Were they all a waste?"

Dale smiled. "No. There were a few good ones to start. The better part of five, I'd guess."

"It's your decision."

Joyce saw his feet approaching. She remained still.

"So, slave girl. What would you have me do?" Dale asked.

She looked up at the man she'd shared her vows with. He had changed. He was no longer the man she'd laughed at, disrespected. Not by a long shot. "Master Husband, I beg you to accept me."

He chuckled. "As my wife?"

"As whatever you need or desire, sir."

Stu had seen it before. He knew what the outcome would be long before this meeting. There was never a doubt. Dale was a nice guy, too nice perhaps. He still loved the silly bitch. It wasn't like he had room to talk. His Ellie was upstairs even then, not even collared. She'd done worse in many ways, but that love thing, it was hard to break. Hell, almost a third of the guys betrayed took the sluts back.

"Disappoint me, slave Joyce, and you'll regret it."

"Master Husband, every day I regret each and every moment of disappointment I caused you. I only beg the opportunity to make it up to you."

He sighed. "Sometimes even I can't believe what an idiot I am."

She peeked up at him, smiling. "My Master is not an idiot. He's the best, kindest, handsomest Master any slave girl could ask for. Sir."

"A Master with a dicklet," Dale said, his tone harsh, accusing. Some things were difficult to forgive. Harder to forget.

"A mighty cock that can gag me, make me tremble, cry out in pleasure, squeal in discomfort, leave me happier than any other, Master Husband."

"Your tune has certainly changed, slave Joyce."

"I was an ignorant fool, Master. Stupid, as you were so eager to remind me. Selfish. I always loved you, Master Husband. Even at my worst, I . . . I always loved you. You know I did."

"Fine. I'll keep the stupid slut," Dale said.

Joyce leaped to her feet, wrapping him in her arms, kissing his body, "You'll never regret it, I promise, Master Baby. I swear."

"Damn it, Joyce! You're embarrassing me," he said, but his actions argued otherwise, his arms enveloping her, clutching her tightly.

Stu put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "She loves you. I know it's a pain, but there's not much we can do about it. Trust me, I know."

Dale brushed her hair back, while her lips continued their journey of adoration. "I can take her with me?"

"Not off the property, and no more than two days a week. She still needs a lot of training. A minimum of six more months."

"And I can get her a cell?"

"Dale, I think you've invested enough in our venture to give her quite a nice cell if you so desire. Hell, she passed her level twos. Not bad for six months. Talk it over with Xavier. He'll tell you what the limits are for Tier II slaves."

Dale peeled his wife's arms free. "Thank him, slave girl. You know you'd still be on a chain if not for him and Doreen."

Joyce quickly dropped to her knees before the kind one. "Thank you Master Stu. I know I wasn't worthy. Your patience with this girl is humbly appreciated. How may I pleasure you, Master?"

Stu was hoping it wouldn't come to this. Even after six months, she still delivered one of the worst blowjobs in the house.

He opened his pants, and she eagerly rose up, taking him in her mouth.

"She is getting better, isn't she?" Dale said with a grin.

Shit, she had to, thought Stu. "Yes, but it's still an area we'll concentrate on. She has a lot of—" He cuffed her head gently. "Teeth, Joyce!" he snapped. "No teeth! Geez!"

Stu turned back toward Dale. "A LOT of ground to make up before she could make Tier III."

Dale nodded. "But a great ass, huh?"

Stu chuckled. "Hell of an ass. If we can just get her oral skills up to par, she might even be a four. Nobody can fault her attitude or effort."

Joyce glowed under the praise. She'd show them. She wasn't stupid. It wasn't her fault she had a small mouth, and big teeth. At least it made for a pretty smile. She knew that much. If Stu didn't have such a big thing, she wouldn't scrape him near as much. Master Hubby on the other hand? His was just right.

Stu reached down and stopped her. "Thank you, slave Joyce. I think I'm gonna go up and use this on my wife. Why don't you show your primary Master how much you appreciate him putting himself out there for you. You hardly deserve it. You're very luck you know."

"I know, Master Stu. Thank you." She turned, scooting over on her knees, reaching for her husband's waistband. He'd worn sweats again. He was considerate that way. Providing easy access.

She smiled, pulling them down, and releasing his hard cock, taking it in her mouth eagerly.

Sweats. Her hubby loved her.

~ * ~ * ~

"I've heard mumbling. Some are disturbed at how harshly this one was treated," Dean said, examining his notes.

"We all agreed," Carter reminded him.

"I know, Carter. The problem is, all they know about is the seduction of slave Joyce. None of the rest."

"That's how we want it, remember?" Butler said. "They are tools. They don't need to know the why."

Dean closed his notes. "I know what we agreed on. I remember why. Do you think I could possibly forget the Hermanns? Our first failure? That poor woman? Yeah, she was a cheating slut, but what she went through? Her suicide? The children. The bastard deserved it. I'm not going to argue the fact. I'm just wondering if we shouldn't put out word as to why we were so hard on him."

A voice rose up from under the table. "I can take care of it, Masters. A word to slave Joyce, to let her know what she had almost gotten herself into. You know she'll tell Doreen, and Doreen can't keep a secret from anybody. Manolo will know within two days at the most. She's his favorite."

Carter mumbled. "She's a lot of people's favorite, isn't she?"

"Master Carter! I know you weren't going to say anything bad about slave Doreen. She's the best, kindest—"

"Enough, slave girl!" Dean snapped. "Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?"

Butler almost smiled. Almost. Then he adjusted himself in his chair, giving the girl room to work.

"Let word trickle down?" Carter asked.

Butler nodded. "Fine by me."

"Alright slave girl. Tell slave Joyce tonight." A hummed acknowledgment from the vicinity of Butler's waist was the only response Dean received, until he felt the wicked girl go to work on him.

"Anything else interesting?" Carter asked.

"First payment from Dale. Four-hundred and twenty-seven thousand. The coffers are full again," Butler replied.

"Any worthwhile projects . . . out there?" Dean asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Pay up, Dean," Carter laughed.

"I didn't—"

"Yes you did," Butler said.

Dean peeked under the table, where his ex was grinning mischievously. "Damn it, Diana! I thought we had a deal!"