Shay Shared

Over the next week or so the pattern we had established continued. Paul would use me as he pleased, and I would do one of two things - either keep quiet and take it, or if Paul was feeling generous I might get an orgasm, but only if I screamed it out. Since he only let me release once every four or five times we had sex, I would always agree to it despite the fact that he would invariably send me on a walk of shame to the kitchen afterward.

At one point I petulantly accused Paul of getting off on trotting me out for his roommate to see. Paul looked me in the eye and said simply, "And?" I huffed in mock frustration and he took me by the hair roughly. "I definitely get off on using you like a whore and then showing you off. And so do you." My heart sank a little as I realized he was right.

Soon though, Paul developed a new routine for us when he began taking photos and video of me. He surprised me by actually asking. I think this is why I submitted to Paul so readily - he knew the difference between play and the real world. He realized that taking degrading photos of me could potentially put me at real risk, so he gave me a choice. I think it surprised him when I agreed with no fuss. Given the chance to assert my rights, I decided to hand them over to him. "Take all the photos you want. I don't mind being the porn star."

With that, Paul set about filling his hard drive with images and videos of me in various stages of undress and degradation. There were several running themes. He liked me partially dressed, strategically revealing only portions of my body. Frequently, this entailed me wearing a top and nothing else but perhaps frilly socks, then spreading my legs lewdly for his camera. And though it made me blush, he insisted I splay open my pussy with my fingers to show everything. He said a good slut should know how to display herself properly for a man's enjoyment. I pretended to be offended at this debasement, but secretly loved the idea.

It was during one of our photo shoots that things took a turn with Matt. I was wearing my workout clothes, having returned from the gym earlier that evening. A sports bra with a loose fitting tank over it, black leggings, my hair in a pony tail. Paul liked this look, but made an alteration. Using a scissor he cut a small hole in the crotch of my leggings. With no underwear on, my pussy peeked out of the hole when my legs were apart. Before I was allowed to shower I had to pose for some photos.

Being fully clothed, but with my pussy showing, made me feel much more exposed than if I was merely naked. Paul had me lean back on a large pillow, looking casual and relaxed, except that I was putting everything between my legs on display. He took a series of that pose, then had me get in doggy position and arch my back. I could feel the air on my pussy through the hole in my pants. I allowed myself to wallow in the humiliation, and even sniffled a little.

Paul paused and changed a setting on the camera. "You can stop with the 'poor little you' act. I can see that you're totally wet."

He was right, of course. I was turned on like crazy, and dammit, it was because of the feeling of degradation. But I didn't want to concede the point. "You love this, don't you? Humiliating a helpless girl? Bastard."

He snickered. "I haven't even started yet. Now, spread it."

Oh, god. How had I come to this? I shook my head desperately, although I knew I would do it. A part of me definitely wanted to see how low I would go, how completely I would debase myself. Tired of my stalling, Paul slapped my ass. "Let's go, I'm taking video and stills here. Show me the pink."

My heart thumped and my face flushed as I reached a hand under me and up between my legs. I used my fingers to spread my pussy open for Paul's camera to record. He would have it forever, me doing his bidding for his pleasure. He could show it to anyone. And I let him.

Asserting myself as well as one could in that position, I turned my head and said firmly, "I deserve an orgasm for this, you know."

"You think so, huh?"

"Hell, yes." He gave me that smirking smile that always melted me. "Come on, put down the camera, come over here and fuck me and I'll scream one out. Probably wake the neighbors."

Paul seemed to consider his options. "Tell you what", I'll let you cum if you get naked and we continue this photo shoot in the living room."

"But Matt could come down."

Paul nodded. "He might."

I looked at him incredulously. "What possible reason could we give for you taking dirty photos of me in the living room?"

"The light is better."

"That's a big risk."

"Fine, then no orgasm for you today. But I'm still getting mine." He was now glaring at me with resolve and desire. I knew Paul would have no problem using me for his pleasure all day long while denying me any release. And while I did enjoy that dynamic, I really, really wanted to cum. I couldn't believe I was actually considering this.

"I'm going to be totally quiet when I cum later, OK?"

Paul nodded. "Sure, fine."

"You won't make me do anything loud in the living room? I don't have to do anything to call attention to myself?"

"Not at all. You can be completely quiet. Naked, but as quiet as you like."

I really wanted that orgasm. "OK." I stripped off my defiled workout clothes and went to the door. Opening it a crack, I peeked out and saw an empty living room. Matt was upstairs.

Holding the camera with one hand, Paul gently pushed me forward. I opened the door slowly, looked around once more and then crept into the living room. Paul followed and pointed to a spot in front of the couch. I took my position and cast an eye nervously toward the top of the stairs.

Paul, still fully clothed himself, signaled for me to sit on the couch and open my legs. I felt very naked as I posed. Muffled TV sounds came from upstairs, which meant Matt had his door shut. That was good. The camera clicks were audible, but not too loud. I could get away with this if we kept very, very quiet.

At another signal from Paul I stood and laced my fingers behind my head. More camera clicks as I turned slightly and arched my back to better present myself. Although still nervous, I was feeling more certain we could not be heard upstairs. My heartbeat slowed a bit.

I think Paul realized I was relaxing a little, because it was at this moment he chose to shout, "Hey Matt! Come down here, will you? I want to show you something!"

Panic. Paul had situated himself between me and his room, so I had nowhere to go. Paralysis. Deer in the headlights. More panic.

I heard the door upstairs open and the TV noises became loud and clear. My hands shot up to cover my breasts and my mouth hung open as I gaped at Paul in disbelief. He raised his eyebrows and said mildly, "I said YOU didn't have to do anything to call attention to us. Didn't say I wouldn't."

My panic turned to anger and I took two steps toward the bedroom when Paul raised a hand. "Don't move." He had that look on his face. I crept back to my spot, still covering myself as best I could.

Footsteps upstairs.

"Hands back on your head." Paul gave me the look again. "Do it."

I resumed my pose, heart pounding. I was rocketing into subspace again. Footsteps on the stairs now. I saw Matt entering the room, but it was as if I was watching from outside myself. He ambled down the stairs, turned the corner and stopped in surprise.

"Hey," Paul said casually. "Sorry about the noise lately. Thought you might like to see the source."

Matt slowly walked toward us, a smile slowly rising. I was beyond mortified, but I didn't move. With my hands on my head, he could see everything. Being naked for a man was one thing, but how many people find themselves naked for two fully dressed men? Strippers, I suppose. But nobody was throwing money at me, and I was only there because I was obeying stern instructions.

My mind whirled like this while the guys looked me over. Paul was obviously into showing his mastery of me. He resumed taking photos while Matt watched, then gave me more posing instructions. Again, it was like I was watching someone else as I turned this way and that, showing it all. Or rather, I thought I was showing it all. But Paul wasn't done. Lately during sex he had been talking more and more about how he enjoyed seeing me debased and helpless. So I probably shouldn't have been surprised by what came next.

Matt had sat in a chair opposite the couch and was watching intently as I continued posing for photos. Paul looked at him and said, "Watch this."

Turning to me Paul motioned for me to sit down on the couch. "Now, lean back and assume the position."

"What?!"

"You heard me," Paul said. Then he turned to Matt. "This is the best position for giving it to her. I teach it to every girl I have."

That hit me like a punch in the gut. I wasn't the first girl who had "assumed the position" for him. Why would I have been? I'd just never thought of it before. But demonstrating it to his friend would be a first for me, anyway.

My body again took action without my consciously commanding it. I simply did what I was told. I laid down, put my knees up and back and spread my legs wide, then crossed my wrists over my head. The final touch was looking off to the side. Being taken this way always made me feel a little angry, which allowed me to feel sorry for myself in the complicated submissive way that turned me on like little else could. And now I was being made to do it for an audience, being put through my paces for their enjoyment. This kicked all of my feelings into a higher gear.

"When we're done here she's going to do that for me again. You'll probably hear the result."

Matt laughed lightly at this, but he was looking at me with some concern. Paul picked up on it. "Don't worry," he explained. "She totally gets off on this. You can see how wet she is."

It was true, of course. I mean, I had been naked and posing for him before we even got to the living room for this... demonstration. Naturally, I was turned on. This whole thing happened because I was trying to earn an orgasm, for god's sake. That was still my goal, but I didn't want to bring it up now, in front of Matt. I had to find an end to this. "Um, can we go back in your room now, Paul?"

"One more set of poses. The ones you were doing before we came out here."

Oh, god. He wanted me to spread it for them.

Instead of arguing and having Paul give me another stern order I decided to just get it over with. I reached down and spread myself wide, showing my wet pussy to two fully dressed men. From the corner of my eye I could see Matt staring. He seemed appreciative, but still a bit concerned. I decided to make him feel better about it.

"I guess you want to see that from the other side too, right?" I asked.

Paul, that bastard, managed to turn even my cooperation into something worse. "Since it's your idea, maybe you should ask us."

He could not be serious.

"We're not going back until you ask to show us." He was most definitely serious. "And you'd better ask nicely and explicitly." I knew what this meant. Paul didn't like when I beat around the bush about sexual stuff. He wanted me to say it out loud. Another way to put me in my place.

Defeated, I took a couple of breaths before turning to glare at them both. "May I PLEASE get in a doggy position and spread my pussy for you?" I had allowed some sass into my tone and now I worried that things might go worse for me.

But Paul seemed satisfied. "Yes, you may." He turned again to Matt. "Watch this."

Cheeks flushing red, I got on my knees and elbows. Back sufficiently arched, I reached under and for the second time that night I spread my pussy open for the viewing pleasure of a man. Men. Two of them. I felt like an unspeakably dirty slut.

The camera clicked a few more times before Paul said, "All right. Back to bed. Thanks for coming down, Matt. Hope you enjoyed."

"Thank YOU," he replied. Matt was smiling as he watched me unfold myself and stand up.

I scurried hastily out of the room despite having little remaining dignity to preserve. Paul followed a moment later, at which point I threw myself at him and kissed him fiercely. He had to pry my face away to put down the camera safely. I pulled him down on top of me as we fell onto the bed. "Take it out! Now!" That was me talking, not him.

Paul shucked his pants while I once again assumed the position. The only difference was that I grabbed his head and pulled his ear to my mouth as he sank his cock into me. "You showed me off to your friend like a whore, so go ahead and fuck me like one! Do it!"

I was so wet he was instantly engulfed. There was no build-up or gentleness. He hit bottom and began pounding into me hard. And then the taunting began. "So this is how you want it now? You want to be fucked like a whore?"

"Yes!" I was nearly out of my mind. "If you're going humiliate me like that, then you should fuck me like a whore!"

He was going crazy too and it was a good thing I was going to cum soon. He sure wouldn't last long in this state. I kept my legs spread wide and relished the physical sensations while keeping my mind on the fact that I had been tricked, demonstrated and degraded for two guys. Paul was pounding into me and I continued urging him on, chanting nastiness in his ear. "That's it baby, get that pussy! Use it! Fuck your slutty girl!"

That did it for both of us. I felt the orgasm all through my body and was only vaguely aware of Paul emptying himself into me. No doubt, Matt could hear it all upstairs.

We were soon both drifting off to sleep when Paul murmured, "You're still going to clean me off later."

I patted his back feebly with one hand. "I know."

Interior shot, day. We see three people at a breakfast table. Light is pouring in through a window. The lone woman seems to wish she were anywhere else in the world, while the guys leer at her unabashedly.

That's how the next morning would have been described in screenplay form. I started out trying to act normal, as if I hadn't behaved shamelessly in front of them the evening before. That didn't last long, perhaps because Paul casually brought it up after I'd barely had my first sip of coffee.

"Some show last night, eh?" Paul said, ignoring the small spit-take I reflexively performed with my coffee.

Matt seemed relieved to not have to ignore the elephant in the room. He laughed and nodded. "Did not expect that when you called me downstairs. How did the photos come out?"

"Haven't gone through them yet," Paul replied. "Show you later."

Matt peered at me over his own cup with a slight smile. "Sounds good."

I cleaned up breakfast as quickly as I could. Even after last night, I still wanted to feel useful. A day of classes awaited, and I was looking forward to some time to clear my head. Good luck with that, I thought. My brains were more scrambled than the eggs we'd just eaten.

Very difficult to concentrate on school. My mind kept returning to what I'd done the night before and how I felt about it. I wasn't one to feel ashamed of my sexuality, but that was too much. Wasn't it?

Try as I might, I kept coming back to the realization that I had enjoyed the hell out of it. Sort of the way I enjoyed roller coasters, despite being terrified of them. One friend had a favorite story she always told people about the time we'd gone on a carnival ride that flipped us upside down over and over and over again. I'd clutched her arm, screamed, cursed her for making me go and threatened to kill her once it was over. Then as we stumbled away in a daze I'd said, "Let's do that again..."

Those were the thoughts that occupied me during statistics class. Later, in economics I did my second spit-take of the day when the professor mentioned "perverse incentives". Well that's exactly what I had. And then I knew I was going to go back to Paul's house and engineer another scene of some kind. Maybe not instigate it myself - I didn't want it to look like my idea. But if I could get Paul to feel especially dominant and demanding... I wasn't sure what I would agree to do.

Nobody was home when I arrived back at Paul's in the afternoon. So I put on my workout clothes and went for a run. The house was still empty when I finished, and climbing out of the shower I had an idea. Or rather, I made a decision without really thinking about it and did something odd - I put on workout clothes again. Not the ones I had just worn, but the leggings with the hole in the crotch from the other day. Then I added a stretchy top and a skirt, all black. I even put on shoes, and it felt very daring being fully dressed and covered except for that one strategically placed opening.

Paul and Matt finally arrived, having been out food shopping together. I sat on the couch, watching them lug in heavy grocery bags, feeling rather cute in my outfit. Paul finally pulled me up by my hands, saying, "If you're not going to help, you can at least welcome me home." With that, he pulled me into a serious kiss. If that wasn't enough, he grabbed hold of my hair and exposed my neck to his greedy mouth.

I was well aware that Matt was watching us. I made a show of trying to pull away and nodded toward him. Paul held me tighter. "After what he saw last night, there's no point in you being shy." His hands now slid up my back, around my sides and to my breasts.

Now I really did pull away. "That was last night. And I decide when I get kissed."

Paul was amused. "Do you now? You also seem to decide when to dress up for fun." He ran a hand up my thigh. "Are those the ones with the hole?"

He'd caught on already. "Maybe."

He was looking at me the way a lion looks at a limping gazelle. Meanwhile, Matt was watching us closely. I tried to nudge Paul toward his bedroom, but he stayed where he was. Taking me by the hair again he held me immobile, while his other hand reached under my skirt. I gasped as he touched my bare pussy.

Turning to address Matt while he felt me up, Paul asked, "I know she looks innocent, but do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure," he replied, obviously intrigued.

"She's dressed for easy access." With that, Paul pushed a finger inside me. I gasped with shock at both the physical sensation and the fact that Matt was right there watching. Paul pumped his finger in and out a few times, withdrew it and then put it in my mouth. Still holding me firmly by my ponytail, I had little choice but to cooperate. Paul continued, "I'll show you what I mean. Shay, stand in front of Matt and show him the special feature of that outfit you're wearing."

The roller coaster ride was leaving the station. This actually felt worse than yesterday because I'd chosen to put on this slutty outfit. Now I stood primly in front of Matt. I glanced over at Paul beseechingly, wondering if he might change his mind at the last moment and spare me this degradation. His expression didn't change and he nodded down at my skirt. He was going to make me do this. Good.

Looking as reluctant as possible, I took the hem of my skirt in two hands and began pulling it up. Northward it traveled until it began revealing skin instead of black tights. And then, there was my pussy framed by the hole.

Matt was captivated, and he also noticed something different. "Last night, didn't she have..."

He was addressing Paul, but I answered. "Yes, I had a little hair last night. I shaved today after my run." It was true. I was now completely smooth down there, which of course added to my hyper sexual feelings as I daintily held my skirt up for these two men. Though my top was tight and my nipples were undoubtedly sticking out, only my pussy was on display. My completely bare pussy.

Even Paul seemed momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recovered. He seized my ponytail again. "I know what it means when you put on a sexy outfit - keep holding that skirt up! But you've never shaved your pussy for me before. Tell me what that means." I didn't want to tell him what that meant. Not out loud, and in front of Matt. Or so I pretended to myself. He yanked my hair again painfully.