The Collection: Denise L.

He moved first. Master cupped both my breasts, lifting them high, to the point of pain. I winced, bit down on the ball, tasted the rubber and swallowed the flavor. His fingers rolled my nipples into harder peaks than I thought possible. I moaned and my breasts felt heavy. He chuckled and bent his head down, captured a pearl and bit hard. Inwardly I screeched and pulled back. His teeth held tight and I cried out more in my head as he refused to release and I fought to not give in. I did though. I caved and pushed my chest back toward his mouth, coming to him to ease the pain. "Good slut," he told me after releasing the ridged point. He repeated the bite and tug torture on my left nipple, this time I was prepared for the sting and found the pleasure hidden underneath it.

A pair of hands moved down my back, tracing my spine with fingers that were hard and thick with calluses. It was Sir. I knew it to be him. Master's hands, were also hard, and there were some calluses, but his hands were those of a more refined gentleman. This is not to say my Master is weak. He is anything but that. It is a calculated mind my Master has. One shrouded in a darkness that is quickly consuming me.

I felt my ass cheeks being spread by one of these beefy hands that Sir Michael had. My cheeks tightened. Never had I been taken in that way and real fear shot through me. I jerked slightly and felt the sting of a slap against my pussy. My head came up and I stared into Master's eyes. "Every time you resist you will be punished."

I blinked. I understood what he was saying, but did he not see my fear? Did he not care? I chastised myself. No. . .he cared, not once had he truly hurt me. A few bruises? Those were nothing compared to what a man could have done to a woman in this position. I shook my head, telling him the only way I knew how that I would be good. He smiled and for the second time that night I craved the desire to please another. His hand smoothed my pussy, relaxing my cunt muscles as well as my entire being. My ass was again touched, but I forced myself to concentrate on the fingers that skated around my sex, dipping ever so slightly in, before drawing out and then slipping in again.

There was a new sensation added to the mix when Sir squeezed a large amount of something on my asshole. I learned later it was a simple clear lubricant that was and is a favored for "the collection". Once I concentrated on the feel of it slipping into my anus I realized it was warming my flesh. My brow furrowed as I examined the feeling. Though the time was quick, I knew that the stimulation would enhance what was about to happen. I heard the squelching of the bottle, felt the hard hands on my ass again and knew Sir had lathered his cock with the same thick fluid. He pushed his cock head against my hole and groaned against my ear. "A nice tight ass."

A shiver of excitement coursed through me. Once again I had gained favor with this man and by the look on Master's face he was happy with me. He patted my pussy with his palm and began to suckle on my tit. My mind was a jumble of emotions as I felt the cock slide deeper into my anal cavity. I told myself over and over that when this was finished, these men would pay. It did not matter that I was enjoying it. What mattered was they were making me like it. They were doing this without my okay and yet. . .

I was brought back to reality when Master pushed his cock into my pussy and my eyes grew huge as he and Sir fucked me. They refused to go slow, refused to give me a chance to digest that there were two cocks pounding into my bound body. I wanted Sir to slow; his cock was stretching my ass and it was tender. I wanted Master to stop. His thick tool was slamming into me and the pressure from his assault meeting the wall where Sir's was drilling against, made me hurt. My lids closed over my green eyes and I clenched them tight. I bit down on the gag, then opened my lids wide when Master's mouth reclaimed my nipple and bit it. Hard

It felt as if he were tearing the areola off. Why? I didn't understand. I was cooperating. I was not fighting. Why did he bite me? What had I done wrong? He moved to the other, bit it with the same pressure if not more. I wanted to look down, but I was fearful for what I would see. I felt a trickle of blood and jerked, panic stricken. A slap to my ass was my punishment and yet I jerked again. Master's cock slipped out and he slapped my face, before pushing his dick back in. I continued to fight, only to lose Master's cock again. This time it was not a slap to my face, but he left. Sir continued to pound, this time whispering, "You should have learned by now."

Learn? Learn what?

There was a sudden crackle in the air. My head seemed to move in slow motion as I watched Master walk toward me. The whip sailed through the air, the tip landing on the side of my breast. I screamed. No sound made it past the ball gag. Another lash of the whip had the tip landing on the edge of my areola. I knew I had a bite mark there, one where Master had forced a bead of blood to trail free. His mark? I didn't know it at the time, but it would be one of many I would receive as I was brought into the collection.

Sir plundered my ass as Master delivered ten lashes against my front. Not once did he break the skin, but each bite of the whip was delivered in a way that I felt it and knew he could easily punish me with a heavier hand. When he was done, tears had flown freely from my eyes and he was able to slide his dick into me with no resistance from my jerking or quaking. . . for I did neither. My pussy took his cock.

In time the two of them worked a rhythm that would bring me out of the pain and into the pleasure. They both held me in various ways. One would grab my breasts, the other would hold my hips. They worked as a team, yet I knew Master was the leader. He was the man in control, even of Sir in a way, though it was not sexual. Sir would obey Master; no matter what order was given. I felt my pussy tighten around Master's dick. I milked him both willingly and unwillingly. I wanted to make him come. To have some ounce of control. I needed to feel as if not all of this was against my will.

I increased my tempo. Gripping his cock, releasing it, gripping it. Over and over I repeated the process. My Master encouraged me. I reveled in his praise. I wanted his come. I craved it. I needed to feel the power of his seed rushing into my womb. He reached up and yanked the gag ball from my mouth, the buckle tugged painfully on my hair. "What are you?" he demanded. His hand grasping my head.

My mind was a cloudy haze. I stared into his eyes. Heard his voice as it had played throughout this odd nightmare. He'd called me many things, as did Sir, but I knew there was something. . .something he'd not said, but I was to know what it was. He pushed his dick deeper; his balls slapped me. He asked me again and squeezed my breast. I felt Sir grab my hips and thrust into me. I felt Sir's come fill my ass, yet my Master's eyes were the only thing I concentrated on. My Master's cock, buried deep in my pussy was the only cock I truly craved. The power in the man before me, blanketed me and I wanted to bask in his presence. "What are you?"

I knew then. I licked my lips, moistened my throat and whispered, "Slut." He pulled out and drove back in. "Who do you belong to?" He held himself there and I felt Sir leave my ass. His come slipped out and rolled down my leg. Yet, still I only had eyes for Master. I only had ears for him. I only wanted to feel his come flowing from my various holes. My eyes looked into his as I studied his face. Two words fell easily from my lips, sealing my fate from that moment on. . . "You, Master."

His come shot into me and I felt my own climax that had been building much against my will cascade over his shaft. I closed my eyes, threw my head back and begged for his seed. He held me close. His cock shuddered violently inside me and I squeezed his tool, milking him and wanting nothing but his seed to shower my pussy. My own fluids coated his shaft and slid down his balls. When he pulled free of my vise-like grip I whimpered at the loss. He petted my cheek and then released my arms. They fell to the side and I leaned against him as he undid the restraints on my ankles. He lifted me and carried me to the bed, offering me a drink.

It was hours later that I woke up and my life in the "Club" had begun. In time I would learn the true depth of my Master's darkness and slowly it would begin to work its way into my entire soul and I craved it. . .