The Good Wife: Resubmission Ch. 02

Another.

Another.

The blows are landing from just above my as to just below my neck. It's a thick leather whip with several tails. I can't tell how long it is, but it's heavy. Each blow stings at the tips and thumps hard against my back, almost knocking the wind out of me.

"Anyone else want to try?" Gavin asks, inviting the audience into the show.

"Yeah, let me."

I think it's the same guy who shouted out a moment ago.

"Get ready bitch." He swears, more under his breath than to me.

He lands a blow high across my back, the tails coming down across my shoulder. I cry out a bit, the butt plug sticking from my mouth muffing the noise.

"Shut the fuck up." He hollers, bringing the whip hard across the small of my back.

I arch against the pain, biting deep into the butt plug to stifle another cry.

"You like this, don't you?" he asks, whipping again and again.

"This really tires you out, doesn't it." He says to Gavin and the rest of the people behind me, laughing. "Who's next?"

"Me." Another voice, I can't tell if I recognize the voice or not.

I'm still, bracing for another round of blows from the whip, biting into the butt plug.

"Spread your legs." He says, bringing the whip lightly across my ass. I do as I'm told, inching my legs apart with my feet.

I jump as the whip comes up between my legs, it's a light blow that startles me more than hurts.

"Good girl." He's speaking softly, I can't tell if I recognize his voice or not.

"Can I turn her around?" he asks away from me.

"Go ahead." Gavin answers, he's across the room.

Warm hands grab he on my sides and turn me, I move to keep up. I'm facing the audience now. This is even more humiliating somehow. I still have the mask on, I still don't recognize the voices, but I'm self conscious facing them nonetheless.

The warm hands slide from my sides to my tits, he rubs them hard, pinching my nipples. This feels good. Finally.

He pinches harder and I want to moan, but I hold it in. The pinching is a piercing feeling, he's pulling harder and harder as he pinches, then let's go. Again, I'm out of breath, breathing hard against the pain. He rubs by tits again, softly, then in one quick motion, he pulls away then smacks my right breast. I breathe in hard against the pain, refusing to cry out. Another smack, another. He smack the other breast, harder, smacking over and over. I can't help it, I let out a grunt or a cry or a mix of the two. It's animalistic, it's a strangled noise of pain. My chest is sore and bruised feeling.

"Shut the fuck up." He swears, grabbing my face, pushing the butt plug further into my mouth, "Shut the fuck up." He says each word with emphasis, moving closer to me, almost whispering the threat in my ear.

Roughly, he turns me back around, I struggle for balance even though I can't fall. The whip comes down even harder, the sting deeper after having time to welt up. The blows come quick, one, two, three four five sixseveneightnineten... I lost count. I was biting deep into the butt plug, afraid that I would bite right through the thick plastic. Drool and spit had shot out of my mouth and were running down my chin, under the mask.

He thows the whip around my neck like a garrote, stepping in close to me and pulling tightly "This what you want?"

I struggle to breathe, I can't.

"This is what you want, isn't it. You like this." He says, a maliciousness in the whisper as he twists the whip tighter.

My face is burning, I can't breathe. I nod yes, Nodding furiously, gasping, aspirating.

He releases the whip, pulling it from around my neck. I spit the butt plug out, choking and gasping for air. I can't get enough air, I want to drop to the ground but only wind up swinging slightly as my legs go out. Lydia comes over, I can tell by the soft hand she places on my back and the naked skin rubbing against my own.

"Breathe sweetie, nice and slow." She says, stroking my back softly, "Come on, get on your feet."

I know I'll breath better standing, I get my legs under me and stand. As my breathing steadies and becomes less ragged, I become increasingly aware of her hand gently stroking my back, her fingers trailing over the raised welts. I wince, but I also feel a stirring, I can feel myself getting wetter. My god, what have I become.

"That's a girl." She kisses my mouth softly and slowly, cupping my masked face, then kissing again, this time I'm prepared and my lips meet hers, my tongue darting into her mouth, touching hers.

"Good girl." She says, pulling away from me, her hand making one last slow and gentle pass down my back.

"Next." Gavin calls.

So there is another. He's going to continue! My god, how many more? Why is he going on after that last guy almost killed me? Who are these people? Why would Gavin let them treat me like that, or at least go that far? Questions flood my mind, but my body betrays me. The idea of being naked in front of this group of men, the idea of being a toy for them to use, the idea of being a warm lump of meat that satisfies their desire, it warms me, I'm wetter now than ever. I want a cock in me, no, I crave a cock. I want them all. I want them to take me, one after the other, take me as hard and as long as they want.

"She's had enough." Lydia says.

Part of me breathes a sigh of relief, part of me want to tell her "no, let them go on."

"Since when do the cunts get a say?" it was the one who just choked me senseless.

"Sorry." Lydia squeaked, distressed. Did Gavin grab her? Is she paying for speaking up for me? I desperately want to see.

"Stay down, and get that ass up." Gavin says, "Give me a hand getting her down."

Rough hands are on me, lifting the knotted rope off of whatever suspended me. I feel myself go a little limp but catch myself. The warm and rough hands feel good on my skin, the contact making me want more.

"Bring her here." Gavin instructs the guy that's holding me.

They bring me a few steps only, the gentle touch of jeans and hands brushing against me stirring my desire into a frenzy. I want to reach for their cocks, pull them out and suck and fuck each one. That's not for me to decide though. I'm the toy. I'm the one who gets used, I don't make decisions.

"Sit."

A hand grabs mine as I carefully go down to the floor, my feet tucked under me.

"No, on your ass."

I shift, taking my feet out from under me, I'm leaning against the couch. A hand grabs my face, not hard or roughly, then pushes my head back.

"Stay like this." Gavin says, a cold cold voice.

I can feel skin on my shoulders. I can smell the warm musk of Lydia's cunt just above my face. My back aches and burns as the welts press against the couch. My hands want to go up and grab her hips, bring her pussy down to my mouth. I want to feel her pressed against me, I want to satisfy her for coming to my aid.

A hand grabs my face roughly, pressing a thumb and finger to either side of my mouth, forcing it open.

"Open up bitch." It was the guy who choked me, "You're the cum catcher tonight, don't you fucking move."

I froze, mouth open under Lydia's cunt. I could hear the jingle of a belt being loosened, and the sound of pants dropping to the ground. Hairy legs brushed against my side, a close feeling as one of the men came up behind Lydia.

"Open up bitch." A cock pressed into my mouth, I opened wider to take it in.

He thrust in my mouth hard, pushing my head down into the pillow.

"Get it good and wet." He pulled out and pressed his cock against Lydia's cunt. I couldn't see, but I could hear the wet noise of him pushing into her. She let out a slight gasp as he pressed in, the wet noise slow at first then louder and faster. He thrust hard and fast, his balls brushing my chin and mouth with each thrust.

In one motion, he thrust, then pulled out, then pressed his cock into my mouth. I choked as he shot his load into my mouth, his cock twitching, shooting cum in spurts. He grunted, grasping his cock and milking out the last few drops into my mouth. I could feel his legs go slack a bit, leaning against the couch. Lydia and this man, breathing hard, my face pinned to the couch by his cock and her legs, I coughed against the cum then swallowed, taking it all in, every last drop.

"Good girl." He grunted, pulling his softening cock from my mouth and bouncing it off my face twice, "Good girl."

He stood slowly and weakly, could feel his knees shaking.

"Next." He called out, a smile in his voice.

Again, the sound of a belt loosening and pants falling to the ground. The next man moved into position to mount Lydia, legs pressing to either side of me, a cock brushing past my face and the wet noise as he rubbed the head against her wet cunt.

Lydia let out a slight moan as he pushed in, taking her fast and hard the way the first had. I lay there, mouth open, cum still on my lips, waiting for another load. Again, balls were brushing against my chin and mouth, I darted my tongue out to meet them and he moaned.

"Yes, keep that up."

I kept my tongue out, licking against his balls with every thrust. He began to move more erratic, thrusting harder and faster, letting out a slight grunt he pulled out of Lydia and shot is load into my waiting mouth. It didn't all make it. I could feel a splash across the mask around my mouth and a spurt shot into my nose. I breathed out hard and licked the cum from around my mouth as far as I could reach.

"Let me help with that." He said, leaning back, he wiped the cum with a finger from the mask, bringing it to my waiting mouth.

"Good girl." He said as I licked the last bit of cum from his finger, "Gavin's got himself one hell of a good whore."

"Next." He called, rising shakily from the couch.

Again, another man behind Lydia, pushing into her and the grunts and sighs of sex taking place above me. I'm yearning for my turn, to be the one bent over the couch, I don't care who these men are, I don't care if I know them or not, I don't care how many there are, I don't care what they do to me. I'm a service animal, I give in. My tongue darts out furiously, licking against the hairy sack that brushes over my mouth. I'm aching for a cock, I lift my head, pressing my mouth almost fully against the balls of the faceless man, so close that I feel his cock slide across my face as he thrusts in and out of Lydia. My head meeting her stomach, my nose just above her cunt.

I give in, I reach up, grabbing her hips and bury my mouth against Lydia's cunt, my tongue licking at the cock pounding against her. She sighs, reaching down and pushing my head further into her.

"Oh god." The man fucking her moans and I lick at his shaft.

He starts pounding harder, like the others, harder and faster as he comes closer to cumming. I pull away slightly and open my mouth, ready for another load. I'm greedy, I want more, almost moaning myself in frustration.

He pulls out, letting his cock hand in front of my face, spurting. I move my mouth quickly to the head of his cock, taking him in my mouth, feeling his cock twitch in my mouth as it sends out spurt after spurt of hot cum down my throat. I swallow several times, taking in every drop, sucking hard to drain every drop of cum. He pulls out and I bring my mouth up to Lydia's cunt, my tongue darting into her, tasting the mix of cock and cunt, I rub my face back and forth, letting those juices wet my lips and the mask.

Lydia moans, sitting up, her cunt pressing down into my mouth, she moves her hips, bucking against my tongue.

"That's enough for you." I barely hear Gavin.

"Awww." Lydia moans, but does as she's told, rising from my still eager mouth.

"Get that slut the fuck out of here, and remember what we talked about."

No. I rage on the inside. No no no no no. It's not fair. I haven't had my turn. I struggle to keep from complaining. For a moment I lay there, still with my head back, aching, a mix of lust, desire, and disappointment.

"Come on sweetie." She says, grabbing my hand, "sit up and kneel."

I do as I'm told, sitting up, then getting my legs under me, I kneel, ready and waiting. Movement behind me and the clank of the leash being snapped into place.

"Let's go." A tug, and I follow.

I feel the men around me, I'm crawling past them all.

"What do we say to guests Julie, do you remember?" Gavin chides from behind me.

I pause a moment, "This whore says thank you."

"Good girl." He coos.

"Any time slut."

"You're welcome whore."

"Good little piece of fuck meat this one is."

The comments, rude as they are, satisfy me slightly and make me ache even more. I want them all, I want them to take me one after the other, I want them to take me over and over, call their friends, open the door and call in men from the street, I want it so bad.

I get to the edge of the stairs and Lydia helps me to my feet and down to the landing.

I hold onto the railing as she lets go to get my cloths and unhook the leash. She leaves the mask and collar on, helping me down the stairs. At the bottom, she steps behind me, unzipping the mask and pulling it gently from my head, smoothing my hair out. I blink and squint against the glare of the light as Lydia traces a finger down my back, gently tracing a few of the welts. I stifle a small sigh, breathing in sharply and biting my lip.

She turns me around, her face is red and the pattern of the couch slowly fading from her milky skin.

"Here you go." She smiles, pressing my cloths into my hands. "You were a good girl tonight." Leaning in, she kisses me softly on the lips, I'm eager and meet her lips with my own, but it's a small kiss. Can she taste the cum on me? I wonder, leaning forward for a moment longer after the kiss, then pulling back.

"Keep the collar with you from now on." She smiles wickedly, "Make sure you always have it with you. Do you understand."

"This whore understands." I smile, whispering, my eyes taking her in longingly.

"Good girl, now get dressed and go home sweetie." She darts in for one last kiss, a quick kiss, then turns back up the stairs.

I watch her ass move up the stair while I dress. I've never been attracted to women, but I find myself rapt, watching as she climbs the stairs, the shifting of her heart-shaped ass, the line forming and stretching as she climbs. I can see an outline of her cunt, a silhouette of her lips, I want to bury my face in her again. I want to feel her hands in my hair, forcing my head down on her as each of those men take me, one after the other.

Fully dressed, I leave, the collar still on my neck. It's mine, I'm owned, a pet, and I revel in that knowledge. I don't care who sees me, I give no concern to it at all, I leave, my head held high, the small dog tag with the word "whore" engraved on it, jangling as I walk to my car.

As I drive home, I think about what happened in Gavin's apartment. I can't help it, the welts on my back, burning and itching, don't let my mind wander, they hold me, keeping me wet, keeping my mind on one thing. Something changed tonight, the self loathing that I've felt over the last few days is absent, the disgust, the revulsion and antipathy, all gone. Something in me snapped, I gave in, losing myself, not just in the moment, but in the whole situation. I'm a whore, I know this now. The idea doesn't bother me, the revelation doesn't disquiet me one bit, rather, I relish the thought, I find comfort and warmth in it. I gave in tonight. I gave in to Gavin, to the beating, to being used, to being an object, but more, I gave in to my desires and my lusts. Something awoke in my, or I should say, reawoke, and I embraced it. Don't get me wrong, I love Tom, he's my one. I'll always love Tom and I can't wait to be his bride, but I know what I want now. I want to be used. I want to be his object, I want to please him. I'm his to use as he sees fit.

Maybe tonight didn't go as planned, and god knows, I'm still frustrated, but I'm happy with this new me. The lingering taste of cum in my mouth, the tightness of dried cum on my lips and chin stirs in me a wickedness. I think for a moment about driving to Tom's house and surprising him with a late night fuck, but I quickly reject the idea, how could I ever explain the marks on my back. No, I'll just have to wait, for satisfaction and for Tom.

Shattered

With my new sense of liberation, I was able to focus at work. Up until now, work had been a haze, a mindless number of hours spent going through motions that would keep me busy until the night, when I would go to Gavin's. Now it was different. I was self aware, finally. I knew who I was, and I was free to be who I am. I tackled my work with new vigor. My fugue had only lasted a few days, so no damage was done to my list of clients or my standing at the station, but I certainly had days to make up for, and I had the energy now to do it.

A saleswoman by day, a piece of meat by night and a whore all of the time. I smiled at the thought and dived headlong into my work, calling clients, making appointments, designing new ads. It felt good to be back.

For that morning, I was reborn. I wondered if this feeling was similar to those religious zealots who "find" Jesus. Did it feel invigorating like this? Each footstep had a purpose, each motion was fluid, each though was clear. I was a predator, feasting and reveling in the kill. I was the prey that escaped. I was desire and lust all rolled up in a midi dress and high heel slingbacks. Nothing could stop me. Every movement felt sensual, every person was sexual. Part of me wanted to strip down in the office and let everyone take a turn with me. The world had taken on a rosy tint.

Gavin called me at lunch. I was sitting at my desk going over paperwork, I never eat. The phone rang, it was Gavin.

"Hello whore."

I stopped for a moment, taken aback, then recognizing the voice, "Hello."

"Are you being a good girl today?

"Yes sir."

"Good." I could hear his smile, "Do you have the collar with you?"

I paused for a moment, "Yes." Praying he wouldn't ask me to put it on now.

"Is it handy?"

"Yes."

"I want you to put it on."

I was silent, stricken. I lift my bag from beside my desk slowly, without looking down. Laying the bag on my desk I begin to fish around for the collar, still not looking down, still not willing to look at the part of my life that exists at night. These two worlds should never collide.

"I. Want. You. To. Put. It. On." He said slowly, emphasizing each word, the smile faded from his voice, "Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Yes."

"What?" the slightest bit of indignation in his voice.

"This whore understands." I answer correctly, almost in a whisper.

"Good, now put it on."

I pull the collar from my bag, holding it, I force myself to look at it. The word "Whore" etched into the dog tag staring back at me. For a moment I consider putting it on, for just a moment. I can't hide it under my dress, the neck is too open for that. I can take the tag off, but the collar itself will still get me the odd look. No. I raise the collar to my neck, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, and pretend to put the collar on.

"It's on."

"Good girl." He smiles, "Let me hear it jingle."

Still holding the collar, I lift it up and wiggle it in my hand, letting the tag bounce against the metal clip. This feels wrong, I'm lying, I'm breaking yet another trust.

"Good, now keep that on until tonight. I want you over here at six. Do you understand."

"This whore understands." I answer, the words seem hollow, fake, just like me.

"Good."

I hang the phone up and take a moment, sliding the collar back into my bag. I realize that I'm not as liberated as I thought. I'm not the sated predator, I'm not the escaped prey, I'm nothing, because I've ventured nothing. I'm a waste. Tears start to well, but I push and swallow them back then lose myself in work, the mindless and numbing work that I've grown accustom to over the last few days.