You Figure It Out

Satisfied that the leftovers had made her as filthy as they were going to, the performer pointed at the third box, before lying down and wedging her hand between her thighs to swim in horny thoughts of how degraded she currently was. The men looked confused but they were aware that the performer had planned this and didn't want to get another stern talking to.

"Another problem with staying in an unfamiliar house," the robotic voice announced. "Is that you never seem to know when you need to put the bins out." The voice announced. The disgust on the men's faces was clear as they removed a black sack of rubbish from the box. A man carefully tore open the bag and recoiled at the smell that hit him. He took a moment, trying to figure out what to pick out and how to put his hand into the bag without getting the worst of the waste on it. Eventually he gave up the careful negotiation and upended the bag over the performer who squealed in surprise before rabidly beginning to finger herself.

The husbands recoiled at the squirming pile of mess in front of them. The writhing of her body quickly shifted away packaging, leaving behind the worst of the mess that still clung to her already sticky body. A mixture of coffee grounds and rice seemed to be everywhere, a banana peel rolled in her filthy cleavage, various peelings clumped around her. As she examined the contents of the bag resting on her body, grabbed a handful of uneaten remnants of a spaghetti Bolognese and smeared it across her face. Her other hand never left her pussy as she rolled in the filth that had been piled on her. She gave a signal to some unseen hand and the robotic voice made another announcement.

"And now it's time for one last degradation." The voice announced. The men took this as their cue to gather around the writhing pile of filth, take out their cocks, and begin wanking over her disgusting desecrated body.

Every so often the performer would let out a little squeak, a sure sign she was close to a blistering orgasm, but she held herself back waiting for her fellow performers to overcome their revulsion long enough to climax. As the first rope of jizz arched onto her dirty face, she gave up on her pacing and began furiously finishing herself off, even using her other hand to filthily finger her anus as she screamed with pleasure. The performer seemed to go through one unbroken orgasm from her first cumshot to the last, the men walked away in disgust as the performer twitched and moaned in her pile of waste.

Eventually she stood up, took a bow, and walked out of the pool towards the showers, leaving a hell of a mess behind her.

***

"Well girls, I think we can agree this has been our most unique holiday so far." Cynthia announced, leading a champagne toast with four other blonde sisters on the roof of the hotel.

"Aren't all your holidays like this?" Meghan joked, adjusting her glasses.

"No, usually we do the sexual psychological torture in an abandoned train station." Felicia quipped into her glass.

"It hasn't been the same without you though." Cynthia acknowledged. "And I bet you're happy to have some time relaxing with us girls, eating fancy normal food that isn't curry."

"Could we not..." Meghan began.

"Oh relax, a girl with exotic tastes like you shouldn't have such thin skin." Bella crooned.

"I don't have thin skin and my tastes aren't actually that exotic, Sajid is from Harrow."

"Come on girls, I like to bust Meghan's chops as much as the rest of you, but let's not sully this moment with bickering." Grace interrupted, awkwardly shifting on her feet. "We have a lot riding on tomorrow and if it pays off we're going to be talking about this holiday for years to come. Oh, right on cue, it's time for my call with Dominic." As Grace ducked away to take her call, other mobiles started lighting up with reminders.

...

Meghan had finished her call and returned the champagne bucket to find Cynthia lost in thought.

"Prick won't even answer my calls. We haven't spoken once in this time as we can't get past the initial power game of who answers whose call." Cynthia lamented. "How was the Bengal bastard? We going to put him out of his misery tomorrow?"

"He's not from... Nevermind... He's so close, but a couple of things he said ruined it at the end." Meghan lied. "You nervous?"

"Of course." Cynthia replied, not feeling the need to elaborate, so letting the uncomfortable silence linger as she poured another glass of champagne and Felicia returned hand in hand with Grace.

"Guess who's had a breakthrough guys?" Felicia sung, raising Grace's hand in triumph.

"No way, Dominic?" Cynthia exclaimed in disbelief.

"No more golfing holidays, no more infinite saving for a rainy day that never comes, no more treating me like a porcelain doll to be locked safely in his house. From now on my life is going to be far more interesting." Grace announced, beaming with joy.

"I guess that leaves me and this quirky poppadom in. And do I see a third of our number with a face too thunderous to suggest forgiveness." Bella returned in a mood too angry for Cynthia's glibness, snatching the bottle from the bucket and swigging directly from it.

"I think Jacob's been talking to Malcolm, he used to talk all flowery, using all the poetic names for his pristine spring flower, invoking his perfect wife not to play this grubby game. Today he started hardballing me, and I could definitely hear whispers off the phone." Bella explained.

"Well they can sit together when they watch tomorrow's performance." Cynthia stated, taking the bottle from Bella and swigging it.

***

Dominic gave a weak but relieved smile as the sisters on the projector confirmed Grace was not the performer. He didn't want to stick around to see the final performance so slumped out of the room as Sajid, Malcom, and Jacob uneasily squirmed in their seats.

"And now it's just the three amigos, it's time for our feature presentation." Cynthia announced. The projector cut to black for a second, before springing back to life, the familiar naked performer back but now in video form.

The performer sat on a large chair on wheels, a rabid but fearful look in the eyes hidden behind the white Venetian mask. Resting on the arm of the chair was a small burgundy booklet that she picked up and held in front of the camera so the men watching could see it was a passport. She turned the chair away from the camera, removed her mask, opened the passport, and held it out in front of her while she opened her legs. Due to the camera angles the men watching the stream couldn't see the inside of her passport or her face, but out of the darkness there was the flash of another camera that was at the correct angle.

Next she carefully turned over, making sure to keep her face hidden behind the arms of the chair until she was on all fours, her pussy and ass facing the unknown photographer. She balanced her open passport on the small of her back, used her hands to spread her cheeks and grimaced at the flash of light confirming another photo had been taken. Finally she replaced her mask and returned to her original position facing the camera.

"Now then mein lustmolch." A woman with a strong German accent announced from the darkness. "I know you don't want to use your voice, so you will nod or shake your head to my questions. First question, did I just take photographs of you naked with your ID clearly visible?" The performer nodded.

"Sehr gut, next question. Does this mean I have the power to expose your identity?" The performer nodded. "And not just to those currently watching. Is it true you have given me access to your email contacts and social media so those photos can spread far and wide at my whim?" The performer swallowed a lump of fear before nodding.

"So you could say I have the power to ruin your life if you don't obey every order I give you without question?" The unknown voice surmised, dripping with malice. The performer sniffed back a tear before nodding. "Sehr gut, then let's begin."

The lights were turned on to reveal the performer was in a cheap looking office. Stood by the light switch was a tall statuesque woman, her dark black hair cascaded down her leather corset, her mouth grinned through cherry red lipstick, her eyes had that indefinable characteristic that could only be described as crazy eyes.

"Stand up!" She ordered, immediately prompting compliance from her blackmailed slave. "Now then slave, have you ever licked pussy before?" The performer shook her head. "Oh dear, what a sockenfalter. Guess it is time to correct that."

The dominatrix unzipped a panel in her leather trousers and stood expectantly with her shaved pussy exposed. The performer hesitantly walked to her and knelt down, her tongue tentatively licking around the labia.

"Oh you really haven't eaten out a girl have you? Alright then let's do a crash course. Lie down, I'm going to sit on your face and I'm not standing up until you make me cum." The dominatrix ordered. The performer was clearly uncomfortable around female genitalia but didn't disobey as she lay on the floor, her eyes growing wide at the sight of a pussy lowering itself onto her face. As her thighs swallowed the performer the dominatrix moaned.

"That's more like it. Oh ja, wiggle your nose against my anus like that, struggle against my pussy. I love mein zicke to have a little fight in them." She moaned as the slave began the thrash underneath her. Although she moaned and hammed up how much fun she was having, the dominatrix didn't cum for an inordinately long time, eventually she moaned and pulled her hair through her orgasm, and when she stood up again her slave's face was covered in her juices.

"Thus concludes payment in advance for services rendered. Now let's humiliate you like you've never been humiliated before." She announced, taking a hold of the performer's hand and leading her out the office door. The performer walked hand in hand with her tormentor down a plain looking corridor until she took a hard left into a room marked 'studio 2.'

Studio 2 was a big empty white set, with cameras set up from several angles, all pointing at a single chair in the middle of the studio. At the dominatrix's bidding, the performer went and sat on the chair, she then nodded at the camera and suddenly the screen cut out, replaced with a computer desktop.

The remaining husbands watched as a mouse clicked on an internet browser and typed in the web address for a well known porn website. Once on the website the mouse navigated to a profile for "Mistress Wolff." It lingered for a moment on the tens of thousands of subscribers that profile had, before clicking onto a button that read "live stream in progress."

The familiar performer popped up on the screen, still in the same chair the husbands had last seen them in, but now across multiple screens showing a variety of different angles while text chat from users scrolled down the right hand side.

"Now my little speichellecker, each of those red lights is to confirm that the camera is livestreaming to Rubhub. I told everyone when to expect us so I can confirm now that..." she paused for a moment as she checked her tablet. "Five hundred and twenty five people are currently looking at your naked body. Do you want to give them a wave?" The performer sheepishly waved at one of the cameras.

'She seems embarrassed, did she know what she was getting into?'

'Oh she blushes now, I can't wait to hear her scream.'

'Fuck her up Mistress Wolff!!!!!!!!'

"Now for my devoted followers, I usually work with totally willing professional participants, however today I have something of an oddity. Today's nutte is an amateur who has given me everything I need to blackmail her, she wants to completely relinquish all control of her body. So everyone watching this stream is now her master and mistress." The performer nervously nodded as Mistress Wolff turned around a monitor so the performer could read each and every comment.

'So this horny slut will do anything we tell her?'

'that pussy is going to be raw by the time we're done with it.'

'I promise to do everything in my power to make sure you regret asking to be blackmailed.'

Mistress Wolff tapped a few times on her tablet and a new screen got added to the livestream, the blackmail photographs she had taken earlier, only with a black box over the performer's face, and a series of smaller boxes over the details in her passport, added by some unseen editor.

"Don't put your orders in the chat, DM them to me and I'll pass on any that don't leave permanent marks or reveal her identity. As a bonus anyone that gets my little zicke to say no will be rewarded with an uncensored copy of the picture on your screens right now." Mistress Wolff announced to a flurry of activity in the chat room. "And for background context, this lustmolch is married, wealthy, and well connected."

'holy shit I want this trophy wife to be my cum slut.'

'If I can get the photo, I'm not even going to blackmail her. I'm printing off hundreds of copies and putting it on every phone box, toilet door, and homeless shelter I can find.'

'yeah, let's all agree if she says no once, we're going to ruin this posh cunt's life.'

The performer squirmed at the threatening comments in the chat room while waiting for the first order from Mistress Wolff.

"We have our first order." Mistress Wolff announced from behind her computer screen. "They want you to push a dildo down your throat until you choke." The performer nodded with determination as Mistress Wolff handed her a bag of sex toys, pulling out a moderate sized pink dildo and ramming it into her mouth until the sound of her gagging filled the room.

'wow she really is an amateur, that dildo barely tickled her tonsils.'

'this isn't your world, we're going to break you princess.'

"New orders coming in fast." Mistress Wolff chirped. "One person wants you to start writing insults on yourself." The performer picked up the pen from the bag and gingerly scrawled 'annoying' on her arm.

"Get out of here with that weak shit!" Mistress Wolff chided. "You are a dirty, cocksucking, rich bitch, whore. You are a cumslut, a filthy cunt, a piece of fuckmeat with no redeeming value beyond your hungry pussy. Start writing proper insults, in proper places like your tits, pussy, and face, or I will send the full picture out to all your friends so fast." The performer jumped at the sudden aggression from her new mistress and reacted by writing 'filthy cunt' on her bare pubis.

"Very good, keep going." Mistress wolf maliciously ordered. The performer began to panic and started writing quicker and more wildly. She had written 'cocksucker' across her cheek, 'rich bitch' on her tits, and 'peice of shit' across her torso before Mistress Wolff interrupted with another order.

"Lots of interest in the chat room in seeing you lick my ass." She informed, opening the panel on her leather trousers wider and standing in front of the performer's face.

'Yes, let's see your posh tongue on Mistress Wolff's' anus.'

'I hope she didn't wipe after her last shit.'

Mistress Wolff giggled as she felt the performer's tongue tickling her butt, knowing that the cameras were at a good angle to capture the point of contact. She still had her tablet in her hands and was able to give orders between her giggles.

"Don't take your tongue off my anus, but you've been ordered to put on this nipple chain, and start pushing the purple dildo into your pussy." The mistress kicked her bag over to the performer, who blindly started rummaging through it for the ordered ingredients. The analingus stopped for a moment as she let out a sequel of pain from the clips affixing themselves to her nipples, but if anything she began to eat more greedily as she eased a moderate sized purple dildo into her wet cunt.

Someone's starting to enjoy themselves. We should probably change that.'

'Yeah, what bitch ass simp let her pleasure her slutty twat?'

'don't worry guys, I just submitted a good order.'

At that moment a malevolent grin crossed Mistress Wolff's face.

"Alright slave, new order. Stop licking my anus, you are to kneel down, look up, and open your mouth." The performer was confused and concerned, but nevertheless followed the order from her unseen masters. It became clear what the order was when Mistress Wolff loomed over her. She made a hacking sound from the bottom of her throat, before letting a globule of spit dangle out of her mouth towards the open mouth of the performer. For Mistress Wolff it was not just the humiliation of having a dominatrix spit in your mouth, it was also the intimidation of seeing the spit slowly working its way towards the performer, knowing how bad the punishment was if she didn't obey and go through with the disgusting act.

The performer's courage clearly wavered, but she stayed put as the spit dripped into her mouth.

"Swallow it!" Mistress Wolff ordered as the performer gagged with revulsion. She took a deep breath and swallowed with clear disgust. "Very good, you now truly are a speichellecker." The dominatrix praised, taking the pen from her hands and writing 'spit pot' under her lips.

'Gross, what a degenerate whore.'

'Didn't you see? She didn't stop fucking her pussy with the dildo, she likes this.'

'Then let's try something else. Just dropping Mistress Wolff a DM now.'

Mistress Wolff took some time to consider the ramifications of the latest order, but decided it would be fun so turned her tablet so the performer could see. The performer's eyes went wide with fear, she pleadingly looked at her blackmailer while shaking her head.

"Are you saying no? Should I be emailing a certain picture to xhumiliationloverx?" Mistress Wolff asked. Fear clearly gripped the performer, she began to shake her head more vigorously than before. "Alright, that is confusing. Let's be clear if you are willing to go ahead with this order nod your head, if you are saying no and consenting to xhumiliationloverx getting the uncensored image, shake your head."

The performer stared into Mistress Wolff's eyes for a moment that lasted forever, before swallowing her fear with a gulp, and nodding.

"Well with all this herumstreiten people should probably know what you have agreed to. The order is 'leave the studio, and head outside.'" the mistress announced, taking time to write 'public property' across the performer's stomach so her order had a moment to sink in with her audience.

'damn that's a rough one, but look at how much she's churning that dildo in her pussy, she loves it.'

'If she said yes to that, we're going to have to work extra hard to find something she'll say no to.'

'it was close though, I think if we dig deep we can push this slut over the edge.'

The feed changed back to the single camera view, as the mistress picked up the portable camera to come with them on their journey. With her other hand she slung her bag over her shoulder, then grabbed the performer's nipple chains, not complaining when she dropped the dildo as she was walked towards the door. The corridor echoed with the shuffling footprints of the performer, every so often the mistress would pause to check her phone for recent DMs and read out choice messages from the chat room.

"That's a good idea. One user just messaged me with something we can do on the way out of the door. 'Pay a visit to the men's toilets and ask if anyone needs their cock sucked.' There are a few men's toilets in this building so let's just go to the one near reception, after all it is the busiest. Is that OK Hun?" The performer reacted with a trademark fear and resignation as she nodded.

The walk to the toilets was uneventful, the building was a multi-storey office complex, where companies rented by the floor. So every room between studio 2 and the stairs was flexibly used by staff in the adult entertainment industry who were not present most of the time. Even taking the lift didn't result in the performer being seen by anyone but the infinite reflections of the walled mirrors, squealing at the humiliated sex slave being dragged around by her new owner.