Elle 4

This was decidedly, definitely outside her comfort zone.

She had known and been friends with M, off and on, for years. Early on they had a flirtatious relationship which evolved into a sexual one, including light bondage. But then they had drifted apart and it was only a few months ago that they resumed all aspects of that earlier relationship.

Again, the bondage was light. Even so, it was thrilling and catered to her latent desires. M had announced he would be escalating it to something more and that, too, thrilled rather than frightened her. M was gentle and considerate. Yes, he punished her but so far that had been confined to a gentle spanking, and then only when she disobeyed him or didn't voluntarily perform some act he believed that by now she should know pleased him. However, those occasions were rare and her role as M's part-time submissive was one she enjoyed, regretting only that it was so infrequent.

But this was different. M warned her it would be. He said they would be going for a drive, but would not tell her where or why. She was to wear a dress, but strangely and unusually for him, said that it could be of her own choosing. Bra and panties were also left to her choosing—but they must be worn. She chose red frilly panties with a matching bra, which she knew he liked. He hadn't mentioned pantyhose; but she knew he liked those, too, so she donned a sheer black pair.

Beyond that, however, she was trusting him with the unknown. They had left her house at 6.30 and had been travelling for 30 minutes, night was falling. He had said little and she knew better than speak until spoken to.

Perhaps he sensed her nervousness, because he at last volunteered her some information, though it was hardly reassuring: "We'll be there soon."

Where? For what? She shifted in her seat, but said nothing.

"But, before we get there, I am going explain a few ground rules. Are you okay with that?"

Yes. I think so," she said, not wanting—or was it daring—to look at him. She looked out the window instead.

"In a few minutes, I am going to pull over and put a collar on you."

That surprised her. She knew as a sub that her master, M, was entitled to ask her to wear a collar, but so far had not done so.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Y-y-yes," she said.

"Good. And when I do you will have for as long as the collar is on a new name...Elle."

"As in my initial?" she asked.

"No. As in e-l-l-e. But I have used it because it is your initial. From the moment the collar goes on to the time it comes off you will be known only as Elle, though I—and others—may call you other names."

And others. What did he mean by that? What others? M had spoken about group sex and she knew he had some experience with it. However, she didn't know whether it was for her and had said so. Admittedly, she had not shut the door on it, so was that what he was now planning, whether she wanted it or not?

She felt rather than saw M pull the car over to the left and park.

"And another thing. When the collar is put on you will speak only when spoken to by me and others, and you will always call me Master or Sir. Are you comfortable with that?"

She hesitated. His right hand drew back and brought it around in a stinging slap that swung her face toward him.

"Are you comfortable with that?" his voice stinging more than the slap.

"Yes," she said, though tears.

"Good. I am now going to put your collar on."

He reached over to the glove box and took out a collar. She noticed the collar was red. To match her underwear? Did he know? She didn't resist when he fastened it around her neck.

"Now there are only three other rules. First, while you wear that collar you will use your safe word if you have to. Second, you will do everything I tell you to do. Third, you will keep your eyes cast to the ground and not look up until asked to. Do you understand all that...Elle?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes...Sir...Master."

"Good. Finally, know that whatever happens I will protect you. I won't leave you. And later tonight, when we are finished we will be going home to your place and I will be staying the night with you."

Elle, as we must now call her, felt a surge of passion for the man she must now for the foreseeable time call her master. Even amongst her trepidation there was arousal.

"Is the collar comfortable?"

"Yes, sir."

"Not too tight?"

"No, sir."

"Right."

M restarted the car and took the next left turn. Ahead of them at the end of small cul-de-sac was a large brightly lit single-storey house. Outside of it were parked about 12 cars—all expensive looking. Elle had no way of knowing whether they were all visitors to the big house or to smaller ones that lined the cul-de-sac.

"We're here," said M, stopping the car. He reached over and slightly adjusted her collar. "Are you sure you want to do this" he whispered.

Do what? Her mind panicked. Do

what the hell

what? What was she getting into?

"Yes," she said. "Master."

"Good. Let's go in then. And Elle...?"

"Yes, Master?"

Remember, whatever happens in there you won't be alone. I'll be there for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master."

#

M's knock on the door was responded to by one of the largest men Elle had ever seen. At least she assumed so from what little of him she could see. Remembering M's instruction, she kept her eyes cast to the ground, not daring to look up, but also fearing what she might see.

So, this, is she?" The voice was friendly, affable.

"Yes, meet Elle, J. Elle, this is J."

"I am delighted to meet you, Elle. M has told us a lot about you. We look forward to finding out more. You may look up."

Elle hesitated. M understood.

"You may look up, Elle."

Elle did. What she saw was indeed one of the largest men she had ever seen. His frame filled the door so that Elle could see nothing beyond him. Not that she looked. Her entire focus was on his face. His smile was broad and his eyes twinkled with humour. In concentrating on his face, she almost missed the large hand that took hers and held it with surprising gentleness.

She could hear the smile in M's voice as he said, "Elle, this is J who owns the house with his wife D and is our host tonight."

"And on that note, you really must come in. It is a lot warmer inside, and just about everybody is here."

M and Elle followed J though the door and into a spacious lounge. Had M forgotten to tell her to lower her eyes? Was she supposed to do it anyway? Perhaps neither. Perhaps M wanted her to see this.

What she saw was a lounge exquisitely furnished with Japanese themed furniture and wall coverings. A large open fire located in the centre of the floor and therefore radiating warmth in all directions made for a stunning centre piece.

Surrounding the fire was a clutch of couches and on them Elle counted eight men and six women. One of the women, a tall and stunningly beautiful blonde, rose from one of the couches and came toward them, smiling.

"Elle, this is my wife, D. D, this is M's companion for the night, Elle."

"I am so delighted to meet you, Elle. I can see that M is a very lucky man. And what a very pretty collar he has bought you," said D with a naughty glint in her eyes and a none too subtle wink aimed at M.

She then directed all attention to M. "M, you know everybody here. I don't think introductions are required, and I am certain that Elle will meet them all... in time."

J's booming but friendly voice—it reminded Elle of Brian Blessed's—cut in: "Agreed. Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Doms and their slaves, it is time to retire to The Playroom. M you will of course fetch your usual drink and follow us. With your permission, I will take the delightful Elle though."

M leaned forward, "Eyes down, Elle. And remember, whatever happens I shall always be with you. Always."

J took one of Elle's arms and D the other and she was ushered into what appeared to be a hall leading to another room. She sensed rather than saw other people around her moving in the same direction. D let her go and J moved Elle through a door and into the centre of a room. Her eyes still downcast, she could see little more than her shoes and a finely patterned carpet. But she could hear people moving around her and they sounded like they were taking seats. She wondered—hoped—that M was among them.

But it was J who spoke: "Doms, we thank you for coming tonight and for bringing your slaves. We welcome them and value them. We shall of course also use them as we want and as they expect."

Elle started at that. In public? Is this what M had in mind? And why was she still standing, seemingly the focus of attention, while everybody else was apparently sitting? J provided the answer.

"And first tonight, we must thank M, who has brought us our first gift, Elle. Elle is new to our world."

Somewhere someone, possibly a woman, giggled. Ignoring that, J carried on.

"But we all have had slaves and submissives who have been there, and we know how to deal with them, do we not?

"Elle is our first guest. She is a submissive. M do you wish that she be blind-folded?"

"I do," she heard M say.

Elle's world was plunged into blindness when J placed a blindfold over her eyes, and gently smoothed out her hair.

This was not new to Elle. M had required it in the past. But this was in public and she felt vulnerable.

J broke into her thoughts. "Now, we shall start as we always do. With an examination. Elle, if you will allow me to position you?"

He felt his hand grasp her arm and move her to another area of the room. He then placed his hand on the back of her head and forced it down. She was bent over, her face resting on some surface: a table, a bench, she didn't know what. But J's downward force was strong and she knew that she couldn't escape this position. She could though hear what he said next.

"M, would you like to do the honours?"

#

Blindfolded and restrained by J, Elle could see nothing, but she felt her dress being lifted from the rear to her waist exposing her pantyhose and red panties to everybody in the room. Nothing was said, it just happened. She hoped—the only hope she had left—that M had done it.

She felt a hand caress her arse, gliding smoothly over her pantyhose, and then reach gently between her legs to cradle her cunt. Slowly, perhaps reluctantly, the hand pulled away. Elle then felt two hands clasping each side of her pantyhose and with one swift motion the pantyhose was pulled down to below her butt cheeks taking her panties with them. Her naked arse was now fully exposed to all in the room.

"Thank you, M. We are indeed impressed. You may leave her to us now."

With a final, gentle caress of her arse cheeks, the hands were gone.

"Now," resumed J, "you may all come forward and examine M's gift."

Each person in the room came forward as bidden by J. Some simply caressed her arse in the manner that M, she assumed, had done. Others gently fingered her arsehole. Some other probed it with a finger, two fingers, three, gently exploring. Then a tongue licked it. The same tongue drifted slowly down to reach her cunt, licking it, entering it. It felt like a woman's. D?

Elle lost track of time and the number of times she was touched. Felt. Probed. Her arse and her cunt. Were some coming back for more? To try something new? J had long since removed his restraining hand from her head. Was he now one of those behind her? Was M?

Her sense of humiliation was profound. Real and tangible. Yet there was another sensation: naked, almost animalistic lust—of an intensity she had never before felt. Her cunt was dripping and an orgasm, a public orgasm, was inevitable.

Perhaps J sensed that. She didn't know. He just drew everything to an immediate close.

"Thank you everybody. I am sure you are satisfied with what Elle has to offer us. Now, Elle you will stand and turn toward my voice."

Elle did so slowly. She felt her dress drop, restoring her modesty but her pantyhose and panties remained bunched over her upper thighs.

"Thank you, Elle. Now, Clarisse here, who is another submissive, will come forward and remove your pantyhose and panties. I am sure you will be more comfortable without them."

Without a word Clarisse did as she was instructed, reaching up under Elle's dress, pulling down and then removing the pantyhose and panties.

"Now everybody," J continued, "we shall move on to the next stage of tonight's festivities. Elle, you will place your hands behind you, fingers clasped."

She sensed J moving behind her, and then felt the handcuffs being locked around her wrists.

"Elle, you will now turn and resume your previous position ready for our next pleasure. Clarisse, you will lift her dress."

Elle did so. There was now a sense within her that nothing now was real. Her submission was total. She knew that. But it was not to these people, not even after all they had done to her. Her submission was wholly to M, who had brought her here, had watched those things being done to her, had allowed it, perhaps even welcomed it.

It was to M Elle owed everything.

And this, she knew, was just the beginning.

For a short period, nothing happened.

Elle could hear shuffling behind her, but that was all. Nobody spoke and as far as she could tell no-one moved. It was unnerving: she was blindfolded, her wrists were handcuffed behind her back and, worst of all, she was bent over naked from the waist down. Her vulnerability was complete.

Then she felt the warm breath and close proximity of someone to her right.

"What is about to happen, Elle, is not punishment," whispered J. "You have done very well. Exceptionally well, in fact. What is about to happen is not punishment, it is purely for our enjoyment and edification. I hope you understand that."

"What are you going do?" she said.

J stepped back. He spoke louder this time, obviously so everybody could hear.

"Elle, I have a flogger. It pleases me—us—to use it on you. M tells me that you are not unused to such an implement, so shall we say 10 strokes? That should be sufficient, should it not?"

"Sufficient for what?" asked Elle, her voice quavering.

"The answer to that should be obvious," replied J. "For our enjoyment. But, seeing you asked, I increase the number to 15."

Whack!

The first of the blows came. It was not particularly painful. She knew a whip was worse. But it was harder than she had experienced from M.

Whack!

This was harder. And as each subsequent blow came, they seemed to increase in intensity. J was, it seemed, putting everything he had into flogging Elle. The pain now was intense. She heard herself cry out as if she herself was someone else...somewhere else. She heard the crowd behind her loudly counting out the number of blows: 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15!

And the blows stopped. She felt raw and red but the pain subsided almost immediately.

"Again, you have done well, Elle. And for that you will now have your reward. Stand up."

Elle did as J instructed.

"You are to remain blindfolded and your hands bound. But I am now going to take you to the centre of the room where, on my instruction, you will kneel. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," responded Elle, her voice barely a whisper.

J took her by the arm.

Elle knelt when instructed.

"Now for your reward, Elle. Lift your head and open your mouth."

"Oh God, no. Please not that. Please."

"M?"

It was a hard-stinging slap on the face.

"You will do what J tells you. Slut!"

Elle rocked back on her heals. The violence of the slap and in his voice, was something she had never experienced from M before. Did he mean it? Was it an act? Momentarily she forgot her fear of what was about to come and focussed on what M had just done.

"Why?"

"Why what? Slut!"

"Why did you do that to me?"

"Because you did not do as J asked. Because you embarrassed me."

M slapped her a second time.

"And that is for not calling me Master."

"And now may I continue M?" asked J, his voice chillingly calm.

"Yes. She is all yours. I'll just watch."

Elle heard J unzip his trousers.

"No, please..."

"Bring your head up and open your mouth."

The cock was thrust deep into her mouth. For a moment, nothing further happened. But then J hooked his hands around the back of her head and using both hands pulled her face violently forward.

And there it continued. The pulling. The thrusting. J's already large cock growing within her. Gagging her.

She didn't know how long it went on for, but J's thrusting grew in intensity and speed and she knew that he was going to cum. When he did, it seemed to last forever and her mouth filled with his semen. J kept her face hard-pressed to his pubic hair until he felt her swallow. Only then did he release her.

Elle fell back on to her heals. Exhausted. Shattered. Numb. Her mouth raw. But it was over.

"And now, W. Would you like to be next?"

And so it went on—cock after cock. Some large, most small. Some quick, some very quick and a few prolonged. Some finished in her mouth, others on her face or over her hair. She lost count of the number of anonymous cocks she took that night, some may have returned for seconds, but she knew that M's had been the last. Was the last.

Elle had been taken and abused. Technically it was perhaps a gang-rape. But Elle was beyond caring. All she cared about was that it was over...and that M had been the last.

Her blindfold was removed and the handcuffs taken off. She was instructed by J to stand, which she did gingerly.

"You have experienced much tonight, Elle. We have other delights planned but none involves you. D will now take you to the bathroom where you will wash. When you have finished she will return you to M where you will remain for the rest of our festivities.

Elle followed D to the bathroom and then back to M. She sat at his feet. She felt his hand reach out and gently caress her hair.

"Say thank you, Master."

"Thank you, Master."

#

"You may now look up, Elle, and watch" M said.

Elle looked around the room for the first time. Over to right was a padded bench, which must be the one she bent over. Behind it hanging on the wall was an array of whips, floggers and paddles; also, an assortment of cufflinks and other restraints. Directly across from her, attached to the wall was a rack in an X shape with straps at each point of the X. To the left of that and dangling from the ceiling was what appeared to be a large cradle fashioned out of leather straps; she had seen something similar in use in one of the porn movies she watched with M. In front of the wall to the left dangling from hooks in the ceiling was a line of ropes reaching almost to the ground, and behind that a glass-fronted cabinet containing a selection of sex toys.

Arranged in a semi-circle facing the rack, and the centre of the room where Elle had completed her ordeal was a group of couches. There seemed to be more men on them and women at their feet than when she and M arrived. How many? Maybe 20? How did that happen? How many of the men had face-fucked her?

All of them?

But none was looking at her now. They were all concentrating on J who was slowly stripping his wife. First, he removed her shoes, then her dress, leaving her clad in pretty, blue, and expensive looking, bra and panties. The bra was removed first and then the panties. Elle couldn't help herself—she had to look. D's breasts were small and the nipples not particularly protruding, but they were pert and didn't look to need the bra that had encased them. Elle's eyes wandered down the body. She wasn't interested, sexually, in women. Never had been. Never would be. But D's hairless cunt fascinated her. Elle had never shaved. Only trimmed. In fact, on the only occasion she had suggested it to M, thinking he would like her to try it he had reacted angrily and forbade it. "I like a hairy cunt," he had said with anger, before softening with, "And as long as you are my cunt, you will be a hairy cunt." Nothing more was said on the matter.