Divorce Settlement Ch 02

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. This story contains scenes of extramarital, unprotected, and group sex. This story is slightly more coarse and raunchy than my other work.

Part one of this story had a number of people favoriting both the story and me, and a few comments saying they enjoyed it. However, the overwhelming comments were that there was too much sex and not enough story. Safe to say that if you hated part one, read no further and move on. Everyone else, well, see what happens.

PART TWO

A minute after the door closed behind Jim, Gretchen said she had a few more papers to be signed. When we finished, three people entered the room. I recognized them from Gretchen's party, one of the single guys, the oldest one, late thirties I'd guess, and one of the married couples a little younger. I had fucked them all. I had licked cum out of the woman's pussy, and she had pissed on me. I'd never expected to see them again, and I flushed with embarrassment. They, however, did not seem uncomfortable. The two men took a seat at the table across from us, while the woman came and sat next to me, placing me between herself and Gretchen, who slid some of the papers across to the two men. They signed where she indicated. I asked what was going on, and why these people were involved with my divorce.

"Financial arrangements," Gretchen replied, coolly. She indicated several more signings, and while they signed she began sorting our copies for each group.

"What, are they financial advisers?" I asked.

Gretchen stopped abruptly, and placed both hands flat on the table, and took a deep breath. Her demeanor changed then, suddenly becoming intolerant and condescending. "You stupid, selfish twat," she said, and the men snickered. "You are not my client, you dumb ass, these people are my clients." She introduced them as Mr. Davidson (the older one) and Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop. "They have agreed to offset your divorce settlement. Your divorce is final, and Jim will make monthly payments to an electronic account in your name, for the next ten years. These folks will reimburse him each month. They have also agreed to buy your house, as you will not be needing it anymore."

"But I got the house in the settlement, you said so," I whined selfishly, confused and a little angry at how she had addressed me.

"Yes, that's true, and now you have sold it to them." She said, sighing. She spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child. And I felt a little like a child, listening to grownups talking, and not understanding what was going on.

"But I didn't agree to sell my house."

"You didn't have to, you stupid slut. You signed over power of attorney to me months ago." I was mortified that she was calling me these names in front of these people. She started sorting papers again as she spoke. "On your behalf, I sold the house. That money will be paid to your account, and will later be transferred out to separate accounts, a portion of which will be retained by my clients, and the rest will return to Jim."

"TO JIM?" I couldn't believe it. "Why does he get it? You told me I was getting what I deserved from this divorce!"

She turned on me, angrily. "And you are, you dumb cunt! Jim has SOLD you. You are now owned by The Providers, a company owned by these folks and their partners, who I suppose you remember fondly." I blushed, tried to talk, and found I couldn't. Sold? "They purchased you for a price equal to Jim's legal and binding divorce settlement, so he will not be out anything." She paused. "I approached Jim with the deal weeks ago, and while he was initially reluctant, I showed him a video and told him some stories that helped him make up his mind."

"You – you – told him? About what I did?"

"About who you are, and what you're really like. And I made him an offer on behalf of my clients, here. They had already auditioned you, and felt you were worth the price. So now you belong to them."

"Belong to them?"

"Yes, are you listening?" Her voice became harsh. "Jim sold you." She pointed to the three people. "To these people. You belong to them."

"But – but that's illegal!"

"Technically, according to the papers you signed in my office last week, you are going with them voluntarily, to start a new life. It's all tied up and proper, I assure you. No one can prove otherwise. But make no mistake," she said, handing one pile to the two men, "you are theirs, to do with as they please." She slid her pile into her briefcase, and turned to me. "And they have plans for you." She closed the briefcase and stood, shook hands with each of them, and kissed the woman on the cheek. She stepped away from the table, and I stood up with her, and grabbed her arm. I felt Mrs. Winthrop behind me pull me back down, and I turned on her.

"Don't you touch me you-" My eyes were suddenly swimming in stars as I realized I'd been slapped, hard. My head was spinning. I started to cry, and she slapped me again. My face was stinging and burning where her hand had struck, and I felt the heat rush to my head. I got dizzy, and slumped into my chair.

Gretchen leaned down, and kissed me on my burning cheek. "Goodbye Miriam. Have fun. Maybe I'll see you sometime."

"Fuck you," I answered meekly.

"Only if they tell you to," she answered, and left the room. I sat with the Winthrops and Mr. Davidson, rubbing my face, afraid and nervous and defiant.

"This is some kind of bullshit, right?" I asked. "Jim is doing this to get back at me, scaring me like this." Their expressions were blank now, not amused. "I get it; he's pissed because I fucked around on him." I looked at each of them, chuckled a little. "I guess you guys know that." They didn't show any humor. "But it's bullshit, right?"

"If it helps you to believe its bullshit, then think what you like," Davidson spoke. I got the impression he was the leader. He sat forward, clasped his hands of the table. "Would you like some water? Nervousness can make your mouth dry." The woman passed me a bottle of water, and I took a few gulps. "Your husband was understandably upset with your behavior."

"Yeah, well, I had needs. I'm not proud of cheating on him, but I had a lot of fun." I drank some more, got no response. "You all seemed to enjoy yourself." I figured I'd play along. "We all had fun, right?"

"Yes," he said slowly, watching me finish the water. "Yes, it was fun. You were very enthusiastic. Adventurous." His lips curled, almost a smile. "Inventive. Willing. Just what we were looking for."

"So you guys bought me? Like some kind of sex slave or something?" The bottle was empty, and the woman took it, put the empty bottle in her purse.

"Let me tell what is going to happen," Davidson said, standing now. "The water you just drank contained a mild sedative. We will wait a while it takes effect, and the swelling goes down on your face a little. We don't like violence." He grinned, reinforcing his sarcastic tone. "Then we will walk you out to our car. You will not react." I started to feel a little nervous. "We will take you to the airport. On the way Donna, here, will give you an injection that will mostly immobilize you. We will take you on the flight in a wheelchair, as though you are paralyzed. When we land, you will be hooded for the drive to our facilities." He paced as he talked. His voice started to sound a little fuzzy. Did they really drug me? How far was this gag going? "I tell you this so that you will know that you will not be hurt, that you have no need for fear." He grinned again. "But you will also have no opportunity to escape, and when you arrive, you will not know where you are."

I thought that this joke had gone far enough, and said so. I heard my words slurring a little.

"Let me assure you, Miss Miriam, that this is very real."

I'd had enough of playing along, and I stood to leave. The next thing I knew I was being picked up off the floor. I tried to resist; to tell them to leave me alone, but found I couldn't talk, just mumble, and my arms and legs were like rubber. I sensed them holding me, leading me, and I vaguely remember the elevator down, and getting into a car. Then Donna was holding a needle at my arm.

I remember a few times waking, unable to see, feeling as though I was moving. But they are just foggy flashes. No coherent memories until I came fully awake, my eyes and face covered, my hands and feet bound. Someone gave me water and pills for the headache that was pounding behind my eyes. I slept more.

When I awoke for real, feeling much better, I was allowed more water. The car was moving more slowly, and I was told we were nearing our destination. I had to pee and said so. By the time we stopped and I was told we'd arrived my bladder was about to burst. I heard the door open, felt warm air invade the air conditioning, and my feet were untied and swung out, placed on the ground. They stood me up: I heard voices, more than four people. I was still blindfolded and hooded, and was led a few steps from the car. People spoke of me as though I wasn't there, while my body began anticipating the opportunity to relieve itself. I turned to the man holding my arm and reminded him I had to pee.

"Oh, sorry," he said, "I forgot." He released my arm. "Okay, go ahead." Did he think I was going to find the bathroom myself? I was blindfolded, for fuck's sake!

"Please, I need a bathroom," I said, softly, embarrassed to beg helplessly in front of people.

"No, you need to pee. Go ahead," he replied. I was dressed, blindfolded, arms tied, outside, I didn't know where, and in front of people. I started to panic. My pride vanished and I begged.

"Please, my hands, I-" I struggled, "My clothes, I need help, could someone help, if someone could show me the way to the bathroom-"

"Here you go honey," I heard a female voice say, moving closer to me, "I got you." I felt her hands, started to thank her, but instead of leading me away, her hands went to my waist, opened my pants, and she pulled my pants and panties down to my ankles. "There you go," heard her voice mocking as she moved away, and several others laughing. I tried to walk towards her, nearly tripped, naked from the waist down, exposed, humiliated and desperate.

The voices began ridiculing and laughing as my need to pee increased. I tried to move away, but the voices were all around me, and I was hobbled by the pants at my ankles. I began to cry, hot tears stinging my eyes behind the blindfold, and my body shook and released. I felt my urine splashing down my legs, soaking me as my body's weakness and need betrayed me. I sobbed loudly, and felt my legs weaken, but refused to collapse in my own piss. I forced my sobs under control with a several deep breaths as my bladder began emptying. I heard laughter and jeering comments.

Fuck this, I thought. They want to humiliate me? Fuck them. I held my chin up, and squatted, spreading my legs, feeling my stream point forward and shoot away from my body. I could smell the stink of my piss wafting up from my wet legs and pants, and didn't care. Fuck these people. Watch me piss. You won't make me submit. I can take whatever you throw at me.

I made up my mind, right there, pissing for their entertainment, that they would never own me. They might have bought me, and could make me do what they said, but they would never own me, inside, the real me. No matter what they could think of, I decided, I would make it my own, embrace it, and make it part of me. I would do it because I wanted to, never because they made me.

During my time here that philosophy has seemed to work out for the best. I am grateful I came to it early. They put a collar on me that I am told I will wear the rest of my life. Every day I look at it and try to refocus my efforts to be my own boss, to never submit.

My 'orientation', as they called it, tried to break me to their will. I guess it was designed for women who resisted and needed to learn who was in charge. Since I had made up my mind already, I knew who was in charge of me, and it wasn't The Providers. I viewed them as my tour guides. Their training and indoctrination consisted of sexually related activities, immersion and exercises. I wallowed in it. They stretched my ass with anal toys, spanked relentlessly, clamped my nipples, used suction on my nipples and clit. They spit and pissed on me, came on me. They made me live for a week on nothing but water and semen, made me earn my nourishment from cocks, cunts and asses, lick it off the floor, and drink glasses of cum. They used electric stimulation on my nipples, pussy and ass. They brought in a doctor to clip the thing under my tongue, so I could extend it further. They harnessed me in the daytime and chained me to the bed at night. I did physical training, too, to improve my stamina, strengthen my body. In a few weeks I was in the best shape of my life, slim and built and firm. They also trained me to control my pelvic muscles, to control my vagina and ass. Cool, right?

I followed their commands, exceeded their expectations. When they spit in my face I opened my mouth, when they made my lick cum off the floor, I lapped it up and asked for more. No matter what they threw at me I took it, embraced, it, and made it my own.

But while all the 'training' related to sex, there was no sex. I was not fucked, and was not allowed to cum, although I was stimulated to near orgasm for much of the time. At night my hands were restrained so I couldn't get myself off. The few times I got caught I was severely punished. My sensitivity was increased with the lack of sexual relief.

After a while they figured out that I didn't need to be broken and trained, and they treated me a little differently. Donna Winthrop came to me once and told me that they were very happy with how well I was working out. By this time I was starting to figure out what was in store for me, and that the 'party' Gretchen had arranged was for them to see what I was capable of. Donna told me that they'd known then that I was perfect for their needs. I could give a shit what their needs were, I told her, and that they couldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do.

"That's why we wanted you," she told me, "because you like it. You want it, you need it. That's why we decided to buy you." I bristled at the 'buy' comment, and took the opportunity to let her know.

"If it helps, try to think of yourself a valued employee. You should understand that your desires and uh-m, tendencies, I guess, make you a valuable part of our organization. Because you want to do the things we want you to do. We've seen it, we know it. And you know it. So if it helps, consider yourself an essential part of the organization. But never forget that we do own you, and that we don't really give a shit if that bothers you." She leaned into me, and grabbed my nipple (I was naked, of course) and twisted and pulled it, really hard. "And the day that you get tired of doing what you want, or lose interest in it, you will do it anyway, and enthusiastically. Or else things get pretty tough for you."

My first event was tame, looking back. A married couple wanted a woman to play with. I fucking played with them, but good. He fucked my pussy and she fucked my ass with a strap-on; I ate her while he fucked her. She ate my pussy. I licked out her ass. It was my first event with the new tongue access, and I was able to shove three inches of mouth muscle up her tight little hole, and lick it out. She went wild for it. And I came, more than a dozen times, hard, powerful craven orgasms that left me weak and begging for more. I was with them for an entire weekend. They were very happy with me, and gave me a good review.

The next few events were pretty much the same, lots of fucking and sucking, and when I had the opportunity I asked Donna (she was my manager; all the 'properties' had a manager) if she didn't have something else, something a little, well, more. She said she'd see. The next weekend I experienced my first gang-bang. There were ten guys, and they hung me from the ceiling in a harness that supported my back but left my legs and head hanging free and loose. They fucked my mouth and cunt and ass, cumming all over me and in all my holes. I was delirious from cumming, and still they kept coming back for more. Halfway through the night they let me out of the harness, and made me lick the cum off the floor, then pulled my legs up and made me piss into my own mouth. They scooped cum from my cunt, and squeezed it out of my ass, and made me drink it. I begged for more cock, and got it. I got airtight for the first time, all three holes filled, that was incredible.

When Donna collected me at the end of the night they made me leave with my face completely glazed in cum, naked and dripping cum from my ass and pussy. She gave me a raincoat to wear home, and as we left I saw them hand her a bunch of cash. I asked her about it on the ride back. She said she would tell me if I would finger myself and lick the cum off my fingers while she talked. Fuck yeah, I thought, and turned sideways in the seat, spread my legs, and started scooping the slimy jizz out of my cunt and ass, sucking it down as she watched, and drove, and talked.

She told me that five percent of every event was placed in a retirement account for me, along with half my tips. No one can do this forever, she said, and The Providers wanted to make sure their property didn't turn on them after they retired. So the more I earned, the better off I'd be at retirement. I rubbed my clit till I came. As my manager, she earned a bonus from what I earned, so it was in her best interest to get me as much work as she could. I jammed four fingers onto my cunt and fucked myself, reaching another orgasm. She told me I could do events for as long as I brought in the big money, and then I'd be transferred to the Asset division, and I'd be a straight escort until I was too old. Then they'd retire me. Usually around forty, she said, but if my enthusiasm held out, maybe longer.

By this time we were back at the headquarters, but we didn't get out of the car. She parked and watched me intently. I was still hot, and I knew she was getting off on watching me play with myself. I took a chance and brought my hand to her face. She sucked a huge wad of cum from my fingers, and her own hand went to her lap and rubbed her pussy. I fed her cum until she came. Then we went inside and I got cleaned up.

Well, knowing about the money made me even more ambitious. I could have all the disgusting, filthy wanton sex I'd ever craved and retire in style. I knew I was a whore, and a sex slave, but I was getting everything I'd ever wanted, right? So, who's getting hurt?

I gradually stopped giving Donna a lot of shit, and we got along. And she stated getting me the real adventures then, once she knew she could trust me. These were the high rollers, not just the pervs with easy cash. I still worked the easy ones, too, sure; I loved the sex and I dreamed of the money, but the adventures made my blood heat up and my chest tighten. I started getting the types of sex I wanted, things I would have done for free behind Jim's back.

A married man wanted to fuck me in a public place in front of his wife. I met them at a restaurant, late, and halfway through the dinner he stood me up, pushed me on the table and pulled up my skirt. As he fucked me hard, really pounding me, he was talking to her. "See her cunt, Louise? See her cunt taking my cock? This is fucking, you bitch, this is what you're supposed to do, you worthless cold bitch!" I came on his cock and we pulled our clothes on and ran out before the cops arrived. On the way to their house she ate my pussy in the back seat while he drove, berating her all the while. At their house he fucked mouth, then my ass. Each time he pushed her face in to lick me, telling her, "Taste my cock, Louise!" I came in her mouth when she was licking my cunt, and the bitch drank it up. Then he fucked my ass, and shot his load in me, and made me squat over her and drip cum from my anus into her mouth.