A Secretary Changed Ch. 21

The cute blonde at the video game waved and said hi without looking at me, and I saw she was the youngest of the bunch.

"Hi all of you, I'm Jenna," I said. A few girls said hi but mostly noone paid much attention. Looking around I noticed only me and Taylor had collars on. Mine being black, and her's was red with the word slut on it.

"Have a seat Jen," she said as she sat on one of the sofas. I sat next to her, crossing my legs, and we made small talk. For about two minutes we made small talk before Madame popped her head in. Telling Taylor she had an outcall for the night with a regular. At his place. She smiled at me and said goodbye and I was all alone in the brothel with these other girls. I put my head in my hands and wanted to cry, wanted to go home and wanted this to all be a bad dream. That lasted about one minute. Then the customers started arriving.

That night I got fucked by seven different men.

Mrs. Rebecca Anders...two years and six months earlier...

Naked, except for my bridal garter and heels, I hung by my wrists over my new husband. His cock an inch from my craving pussy and both of us gagged. His restraints kept him helplessly bound to his chair and as we both whimpered, Mistress Jane presented our wedding gifts to us.

"Congratulations on your marriage you two," Mistress Jane giggled. As Summer got between my husband's legs and iced down his cock. Making him squirm and groan as she applied the bag of ice to his balls, and his shaft. Making him lose his erection and shrink down.

"First, for the groom. Summer if you would please?" Mistress Jane instructed the Asian whore. I hated her now. Deeply. That whore Summer. As she giggled and I watched, Finley with his eyes wide open, Summer placed a tube around his now flaccid shaft. A few clicks and some bands went around his balls. Fitting snugly into place. Very snugly. Summer giggled as she placed a small lock on the device and clicked it into place. Sitting back to admire her handiwork, Summer gave his balls a tickle with her long pink nails just for good measure.

"That will take care of your husband trying to stick his thing into my property Becca," Mistress Jane said. Smirking like the cat that ate the canary. My blue eyes looking at the shiny steel cock tube encasing Finley's member. "And it takes care of his wanting to get an erection for my girl Summer," Mistress continued. Finley groaned into his gag and I knew he deeply regretted his choices.

"Now Summer, for the beautiful bride," Mistress said giggling. I squirmed helplessly, my toes pointed in my high heels barely touching the floor and my wrists in agony from the cuffs biting into my skin. "It's time to make sure she behaves when she's not being watched," she continued, as Summer began by placing a metal band around my waist, and another up between my legs.

I looked down, watching helplessly as Summer clicked and fitted several bands of steel around my hips and groin, realizing what was being done to me. I was being placed in a steel chastity belt, and it was inscribed. "Property of Mistress Jane," it said. In bold italics. The last thing in place was a lock. Clicking firmly on. My pussy completely inaccessible now. My cuffed wrists flexed as I squirmed and whimpered into my gag, bringing a sneer to Mistress Jane's face.

"Your ass will be accessible precious, to all comers but your husband," Mistress explained, as I whimpered into my ball gag. "You are still my property, however, Jerome has taken a shine to your blonde pussy and wants noone's cock but his in there. And of course, you're still my blow job queen. Your new husband will have the privelege of watching you suck many a cock, but will never feel your lips on his," she finished with a giggle. Summer giggling as well.

Looking down I could see just a grated slit, blocking my entrance but allowing for pee to escape. My clit and ring were completely ensconced. I squirmed again, shuffling to stay on my toes, and groaning in unison with my husband Finley at our new predicament.

As Summer giggled, Mistress Jane went on. "Those metal bands can easily be cut off, as can the locks you two now wear. However, the metal requires an acetylene torch to burn through it, and you can well imagine what would happen to your skin," she explained. As she finished, Summer untied the rope holding me up and let me at last sink down to my knees, weak and exhausted. As I tried to compose myself, the handcuff key dropped and jingled on the floor.

"You may release yourself and your husband precious, and enjoy your wedding night. Feel free to spend the night on my boat or leave, but I will be in touch soon. And again, congratulations on your marriage. You two will be so happy together," she finished. Her and Summer laughing as they left us. Finley and I near sobbing, but still trembling with submissive lust.

After my night in the brothel, my first night, that same driver picked me up and took me home. I was exhausted, sore, and completely ashamed. In one night more men had fucked me than in my entire life up to then. Without a word to the driver I walked from the limo to my apartment, dead to the world tired. Wearing the same dress I started the night with, I kicked off my heels and passed out on the sofa.

I slept and dreamed and drooled for ten hours. I didn't work at the restaurant until tomorrow, and I wasn't due back at the brothel until the night fell, so when I woke up I felt a little more rested. Still sore but better. Just a little better. Just enough.

After each client last night, I showered and scrubbed and yet I still felt dirty. Sitting up on the sofa, I thought I would check my phone. Bad idea that. Looking through my messages there was a text from my sister Hayley asking if I was okay and if I heard from Ashley. There was a text from mom wondering if I was planning on missing church again and if my soul was going somewhere warm. Then, a whole conversation. I looked on in horror as I read the texts. Someone, presumably Mistress Jane, had spent half the night sexting Bradley. Using my phone, or my phone number, to send the most explicitly dirty messages to him. His replies equally vulgar. Apparently he spent all night sexting who he thought was me, and masturbating over it. He came twice according to him. And the most humiliating bit? She had sent him a few of the pictures from that first photo shoot. Pictures of me naked, spread, and exposing every inch of my body.

I knew I would never live it down, and put my phone aside with a whimper. Every time I thought of him since the day we met I shivered in revulsion, and now he thinks I'm a naughty girl hot for him. How humiliated I felt now, even more than my night at the brothel. And if that wasn't enough? Just in time there was a knock at my front door.

Wearing the sheer white dress from last night, and the dress alone, I went to my door and opened it. Expecting some new shock to my system. Some new thing to make my skeleton crawl and my stomach churn. Turns out it was my landlord. The overweight, old and grey, Mr. English.

Not expecting anyone other than Mistress or the limo driver or some such person that already knew me intimately, I had opened the door completely and stood in the doorway. Forgetting I was wearing a dress that hid nothing. I quickly was reminded as Mr. English looked my body up and down, ogling me. Blushing, I put an arm over my breasts to hide the fact that my nipples were poking through and smiled.

"Hello Mr. English, what may I do for you?" I asked demurely. He had always been politely reticent towards me, and never really bothered me since I moved in. But obviously I had been a bit preoccupied of late, and was wondering if I had done something wrong.

"The rent is late Jenna," he grumbled. "You haven't paid it for last month, and it's coming due again soon. I've left two notices in your mailbox and no reply from you," he said, his eyes never leaving my body. My mouth dropped a bit. The rent. My mail. I hadn't even thought about those things. Come to think of it, I had completely forgot about my phone bill, the electric bill, and everything else normal girls worry about.

"I'm so sorry Mr. English," I quickly said. Biting my lip. "I've been so busy lately I completely forgot to pay you, I'm really sorry," I said again. My brain rushing to think of how much I owed, how much I had in the bank, and how I didn't have his rent. I didn't get paid at the brothel, and one day of tips at the restaurant didn't amount to much. My last check from the temp agency was short after Mistress Jane had me resign, and I knew I was going to come up lacking.

"Well it's fine Jenna, I can take a check or cash right now for the balance, and we can forget you were late," he offered. When he saw me hesitate and frown, he then said, "You do have the money yes?" His eyes roaming up my legs. I started thinking of who I could call for a loan.

"I'm sorry Mr. English, if you could give me just a few days I'll have the rent for you, please?" I asked him. My pretty blue eyes pleading and pouting at him. Trying to use my charm. To no avail.

Shaking his head, he said, "No no no Jenna, I need the rent money in hand before I leave right now, or else I'm afraid I will have to serve your eviction notice. You will have one week to clear out. Now do you have the money or not?" His tone was serious now, and my mind drew a blank. Homeless. Lovely.

"No Mr. English, I don't have it," I said quietly. Resigned to being kicked out of my apartment with noone to call for help. Given my current situation, I knew I couldn't move in with my family, and there was nowhere else to turn. Except for Mistress Jane, and that seemed like a worse proposition than being homeless.

With a grin, he stepped in the doorway and closed the door. With a nasty grin. Standing in front of me, easily a foot taller and three feet wider than my own diminutive stature. His shirt torn and stained. His breath reeking of coffee and cigarettes. His belly hanging over his belt. His eyes looking at me with a gleam.

"Then perhaps, Jenna, we can make another arrangement," he said. I looked up at him. I looked up at him and I knew where this was headed. Of course it would go this way. Why wouldn't it? So I quietly nodded and quietly let him reach over. I quietly let him pull my dress down to expose my breasts. I quietly let him fondle, grope, and squeeze my tits. I quietly let him pull and twist my big pink nipples. And I quietly let him hold my shoulders and push me to my knees.

He only said one word as he unzipped his trousers. "Suck."

(to be continued...)