The Collection: Lisa S.

Author's Note:

For Master ~ I hope everyone enjoys this story as well.

I sat there quietly listening to Denise tell her story, knowing that when she was finished it would be my turn. I liked Denise, though at times her bossiness and overbearing, holier than though attitude raked on my nerves. Master however dealt with that swiftly, that is when he witnessed it. He'd gotten tired long ago of dealing with the self-imposed hierarchy of the Collection, leaving Sir Michael or Mistress Kelly to deal with our bitching and moaning.

"Lisa."

A whispered hiss caught my attention and I blushed as I glanced up from my finger fiddling. "My apologies," I whispered, as I tucked a strand of brown hair behind one of my ears. It was my turn. I wasn't sure why Master had felt it necessary for us to tell our tales of how we became his, but he had and so I knew I had to go back in time and relive the night Master possessed me and made me his whore. His slut. His property. Even now the thought of his touch on my skin melts me and I feel my pulse quicken. The others are nice, but none hold a candle to Master.

I reached for the glass that had been placed in front of me and took a long draw of its icy holdings, only then did I begin my story.

The day had started out like any other day. I waved goodbye to my brother, winked at his friend and blew a kiss to my baby sister. The day was sunny. The weather warm. The scent of the grounds, freshly mown, filled my lungs; I felt content. I was on my way to break up with another boy, another in a long line of conquests. Brandon was a joke, a dare really. He was nothing but a clod when I met him. A farm boy with shit on his boots and dirt under his nails. But I changed him. I made him hot. I made him popular. I made him worthy of my presence. The challenge was gone; now, he was just another guy in a sea of many and it was time to move on.

I arrived at his house, my shapely figure hugged in a short cropped top with roses across the low V-neck collar. My skirt was short, too short for my mother's approving glance to be tossed at me, but it did what it was supposed to do. It showed off my long tan legs, and when I bent over. . .it showed off my round, tight ass and tiny thong strap. Brandon had gotten a fare share of looking at my tantalizing body. I even let him finger fuck my ass once, but that was as far as he'd gotten. See. . .before Master . . .I was a cock tease.

You know what those are. I promised to fuck my boyfriends, but always found a way out of it. I can still remember how one boy was leaking pre cum all over himself and my mouth was just hovering. Then suddenly I claimed stomach cramps and doubled over as if I were having an appendicitis. The rush I got when the men groaned and muttered low curses at me, was thrilling. Not once did they force me. Why would they? I was every man's dream. I had it all. Money. Looks. . .and a Daddy that sat on the local law's right hand. No one would touch me. . .but I was wrong.

I left Brandon's house after he had pleaded with me to take him back. I can still remember how he had cried. How weak he was. What a waste really. I cursed when I felt my seven hundred dollar pump squinch dog shit and spun back to yell at him. I smacked right into Jerry's chest. Jerry, you see, is Brandon's father. He pulled me up against him and glared down at me. "I've been watching you," he told me.

I felt a twinge of fear, but pushed it away. "I bet you have. You're probably some old pervert who gets off watching his son hand fuck himself, too."

Jerry had lifted his hand and I laughed when he dropped it. "You'll learn, girl. One day you'll learn."

I pulled away and kicked off my shoes, watched where I walked and headed back to my Jag. I flipped good ol' Jerry off and his cowpoke of a son. It wasn't until later that night I learned exactly what Jerry had meant. I also learned more about Brandon and his family. You see. . .Master only invites the most trusted, powerful, and successful men and women into his Club. Jerry was a member and that night Brandon was welcomed into the fold and I. . .I was the newest morsel to appease the lust of the group.

"You digress," a hard, stern voice interrupted my words.

"My apologies."

He's right, I did digress. That night I pulled on a red dress. It fell mid-thigh. A slit ran up the side, barely two inches from my hip. When I walked, the folds parted to reveal a glittering red G-string. A bra? No way. I hate those things. I can tell you, I am very happy Master doesn't care for them either. Though he does love corsets. I don't mind them, but they aren't as nice as going nature's way.

"Lisa..."

"My apologies."

I was on my way to a party at a local club. I had on five inch stilettos. Their ribbons crisscrossed up my calf muscles and tied in a cute bow in the back. The scoop of the dress hung low, my cleavage was openly exposed for all to see. My long flowing mane was piled high; little curls hugged my neck. I never made it to the club. I ended up having a blow out and almost landed my cute sexy car into a ditch. The curses I rained down on that car would have made a sailor blush. My cell phone wasn't in my purse and that really pissed me off. I smacked the roof of the car and was cursing daddy for not installing that service where you hit a button and someone comes to your rescue in a few minutes.

The sound of a vehicle coming up the road made me smile and I purposely tossed out a leg, a thumb and a grin. Those all wilted when I recognized the beat up pick-up that pulled in behind my Jag. "Problems?" Jerry said as he jumped out of the truck and walked over to my expensive toy.

I crossed my arms and then thought better of it. After all this was my knight in shining armor. Or at least that is what I needed him to be. I glanced behind him and saw the cab of the truck was empty. "I need a lift or you could change the tire," I offered.

He laughed and tossed his cigar away, before walking over to the Jag. "Nah, don't think I should do that. I'll watch ya though, tell ya if you're doing it wrong."

The sound of my own laughter echoed through the valley. "Just give me a lift Jerry. I'll pay you, probably more than those milk cows of yours get ya in a month. . .if not a year."

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. "Climb in," he said and headed back to his truck. I glowered at his back as he climbed in and started the engine. He didn't even get the door for me. I stomped over to the passenger side of the truck and buckled up. He was back on the road before I had the door closed. What happened next, happened so fast I am still somewhat fuzzy about it all. The truck was an extended cab and I didn't know it but Brandon was laying in the back. The next thing I knew I had a hand pulling my head back. I screamed and a filthy rag was stuffed in my mouth. I heard the swish of a blade and stopped struggling.

"Give me one good reason why I don't run this down your cheek and then across your neck, down your chest and lop off your tit. . ."

Brandon's voice was deep and dark, menacing. I blinked back my shock and then shook my head, hoping he knew I wasn't going to scream. He eased up on my hair and nodded to his dad. I watched Jerry take a turn that would lead us away from the city. I wondered where we were going and felt real fear shoot through me as I was forced to sit there and taste the dirt on the rag. About ten minutes passed before Jerry took another turn and then a final one five minutes later. I didn't recognize the place we were at.

Jerry grabbed my hair, while Brandon reached over and unbuckled me. Jerry then dragged me from the truck, across the bench seat, past the steering wheel and out the door. I fell to my knees and ripped the gag from my mouth. I cursed then. I threw every vile and degrading word I could at them, but all I got was a quick slap to the face. I'd never been hit before. The ricocheting feeling jolted me out of my rage and I stood there shocked. Brandon grabbed my hair and I was half dragged toward a helicopter.

My hands were cuffed and a hood placed over my head. I heard footsteps on the concrete and blanched when I heard a very familiar voice. "Just get rid of her. I'll deal with the rest, too bad the shooter just took out the tire. Stupid cunt. She's been a waste since the day her daddy brought her home from his whore's spread legs."

"Mom?" I said and made to turn around. She stepped up to me and pushed my face into the seat of the copter, my ass was upraised, exposed for whoever wanted to see it.

"I'm not your mom, you stupid slut. Your father had a mistress. You look just like her and from what I've been seeing of you since you got tits, you act like her too. Well, you're an adult now Lisa . . . and I'm not responsible for you. Jerry and Brandon are going to make you the slut you long to be. Your Daddy'll be so proud. I told him the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Just bring me the video when your done. Then. . .I don't care what you do with her."

I felt a pair of hands lift me and before long I was strapped into the copter, the hood removed, my mouth gagged again and my eyes blindfolded. I was scared, but I was pissed too. Who the fuck did they think they were? My own mother had arranged to pay the shitty farmers to get rid of me? How? Dad would come for me. . .I knew he would. But as you can see, by my telling you of this story, he didn't come. I don't know what mom told him, but whatever it was, it was enough to convince him that I was the slut my mother said I was. . .I am too. I am a slut. Master's slut.

The helicopter took off and I heard Brandon talking to his father. He told him all about me. Rumors he had heard floating around school, about how I would lead a guy on and then when it was time to "collect" on my promises, I would back out. All of it was true. I'd been teasing the boys since I got boobs. I loved the attention, the power, the way their tongues lolled from their mouths when I walked by. When I turned eighteen, it got worse. I flaunted my body, my money, my looks and I had them panting for more. . .but like I said and like Brandon was explaining, I still had my cherry.

"Not for long," Jerry had said and I knew then what my fate was. I was wrong again though. Rape? Yeah, but not just Jerry and Brandon. It seemed my ex and his Daddy had a special treat for cock teasers like me.

We flew for awhile. How long? I don't know. I've never been good at judging time or distance, let alone when I'm scared, pissed, and just plain livid. Eventually we landed and once more Jerry was dragging me around. I shoved at him, throwing my weight one way then another, eventually I was lifted and thrown over his shoulder. If they hadn't gagged me I would have been cursing and biting at them. My hands were bound and so the only thing I could do was kick at him. Jerry slapped my thighs. Holy fuck that stung!

"Welcome back Jer. It's been a while. I see you've brought Brandon's girl."

That voice. I can't tell you how hearing it made my body suddenly still and my pulse race. Fuck, even my pussy grew wet! You have to hear Master's voice to understand the power in it. It is deep, thick with energy that I can't begin to describe. I was tossed onto what I later learned was a table. At first I wasn't sure what it was. It was cold and hard, but smooth. I scrambled onto my knees and with my hands cuffed behind my back I tossed my head one way then the other, trying to hear where they were and who they were. Maybe, I knew the other voices, maybe not. I did know I was scared and the idea that this man had known I was coming and that I had been "Brandon's girl" only added to my confusion.

"It's all been taken care of. Did you get that list I faxed you a couple days ago?" Jerry asked.

"Yes, I did. Quite the list. I found everyone, but only twelve wanted in on the deal. The rest claim she's not worth it. But. . .I did offer them a video of their own. They were more than willing to accept that."

There was a shuffling of feet and then I heard that voice speaking again. "Brandon, it's nice to see you again. I haven't seen you since you were about this high."

I imagined the stranger lifting his hand in the air and thought how ridiculous all of this was. Here I was sitting on a cold metal table, cuffed, gagged, and blindfolded and these men were acting as if I wasn't there I was pissed. How dare they ignore me I growled and shifted on the table's smooth surface. "Whoa there Lisa," the voice said and grabbed my arm. "We can't have you falling."

He touched me. The stranger's hands wrapped around me and kept me balanced on the edge of the table. The heat of his palm against my skin was searing. I wanted more of it, yet wasn't about to admit it. I jerked back and fell on my ass. My legs opened and I heard a soft moan of what I assume was appreciation. The stranger's hands moved over my right thigh. I jerked away, trying to scramble from his grasp. "Brandon."

I felt a pair of hands on my right foot. I lashed out with my left, kicking into the air. It soon was grasped by another strong individual and my hips rose, thrusting to one side as I tried to buck my way to freedom. My ankles were secured by straps. I heard the metal scrapping the table and felt the coolness of the buckle against my skin. The stranger pulled me up into a sitting position, using my hair as his anchor. I cried out, the sound muffled through the gag, no longer clothe, but hard, round and tasting of rubber. My arms were released. Immediately I made to claw the implement from my mouth, but never got the chance as a pair of hands wrapped around each arm and pulled me down to the table. Those too were tied down by restraints that seemingly matched the ankle ones.

"Lisa. We're going to remove the blindfold and replace the gag. There are some people that want to meet you. I think it only fair for you to meet the men who have longed to fuck you," the stranger's voice was so close to my ear, I could feel his breath against my neck.

I whimpered, both from fear and a twinge of something else. The blindfold was lifted. The lights danced across my pupils and they dilated. My lids clenched tight and I turned my head away. Laughter filled my ears, some of it recognizable. I opened my eyes and glanced as best I could at the bodies that circled the table. The gag was pulled from my mouth and I croaked out a name. "Jeff?" then "Brian?" "Mark?" "Alan?" There were more, by the time I had circled my way back to Jeff, I had counted twelve ex-boyfriends from the past two years. There were others there too, including Brandon, Jerry and the stranger. Fifteen men stared at me, all of them with a look I only now recognize. . . lust.

It was the stranger's gaze that pulled at me. His eyes were demanding and I looked away. I watched Brandon come toward me. The glint of steel in his hand made me scream. He cut my dress off and then my thong. I lay there, all eyes on me. . .just like I had always wanted, but not like this. He cupped my breasts after tossing the blade to someone else. I heard the sound of a cylinder being shook and then a cool gel of some sort was spread on my trimmed pussy. "Hold still, slut, or you could lose more than that sweet line of fluff," Brandon whispered, then took one of my nipples into his mouth. I fought not to jump as he sucked on my tit and squeezed its twin.

"Get off me you pig " I screamed. He bit down hard on my areola and I winced, but managed to keep my hips solid. The scrap of the blade pressed against the top of my mound and I knew if I wasn't careful I'd be seriously disfigured. "I hate you," I sneered at Brandon as I watched him lap at my areola.

"Here," the stranger's voice broke through the mumbling of the others. I shivered as I heard something metal slide across the table and land by my head. "Perfect," another ex said as he picked up the object and nodded for another to grab my face. "Hold still. Alan's still shaving that cunt of yours."

I remained motionless, felt a pair of fingers on my chin and knew I had to open my mouth. I did so and the winced as another gag was placed behind my teeth and my jaw was forced open wide. I cried out as my lips were spread. I worked my throat, feeling saliva building and swallowed it down as more quickly followed.

"You can do whatever you want, when I am done," the stranger said and I felt Brandon's mouth leave my tit, the other man's hands wipe away the cream from my pussy. "Brandon, her mouth looks lonely. You may fill it."

My eyes grew wide as I watched Brandon strip. I heard the rustling of other clothes being removed and then I felt a strong pair of hands move to my thighs. "Lisa. I am your Master. You're my slut, but tonight. . .I am sharing you. I'm going to fuck you first. Claim you as mine. Mark your pussy with my come. . .then the others can do whatever they want. You're special Lisa. Part of a special group of women that I am proud to call mine."

Master slid both his hands under my ass and lifted me. I can still remember the look on his face as he gazed at my pussy. Not a speck of hair or lotion littered the surface. He bent his head down and covered my cunt with his mouth. I gasped and tried to get away, but his fingers held me tight. His nails dug into my ass and I felt him spreading my cheeks. His tongue ran the length of my pussy then against the puckered entrance of my anus. I groaned and then shuddered as I felt teeth gnawing on my clit. I tried again to free myself, jerking on my restraints, tossing my hips, twisting my head. Nothing gave way. Then I remembered Brandon.

He moved onto the table. His cock dangled in front of my face and before I could scream I felt it slam into my throat. It wasn't a huge cock, or at least in my opinion it wasn't. I had never had one in my mouth. I had seen them up close, studied them, touched them, but not once had I ever gone far enough to fuck-face one. Now I had no choice. I felt Brandon push into me. His hairy balls slapped my chin. His hands were buried in my hair, pulling me into him, forcing me to take every inch. I tried to twist away, but he held me firm. All the while Master worked his way around my pussy. I gasped, cursed and moaned, all of the sounds muffled by the cock and the gag.

When I felt Master's hands change position I knew he was about to fuck me. Inwardly I screamed and turned by body one way, then the other. I did anything I could think of to make it difficult for him to screw me. "That's it slut," he said, "fight me." He slapped my legs, first the right, then the left. I cried. Tears fell, but they were only laughed at. Brandon continued to plummet my mouth and Master continued to hit me.

Eventually I stopped moving and it was in that moment that Master rammed his cock into me. I bellowed around Brandon's dick as Master ripped my pussy open for his use. He held himself deep inside me, then drew out, only to slam back in again. "Kenneth," he muttered. I recognized the name and knew a boy I had teased was being called. "Snap that on," he grunted as he pulled out and slid in.

I screamed again as I felt the bite of teeth on my clit. Clamps? I had heard of them, but never used them. The pain was unreal as the tiny edges tore into my hardening strip of flesh. Brandon's moans became more thick and primal. Suddenly I was chocking and coughing as his semen shot down my throat. He pulled out, and more shot out, covering my face and plopping grotesquely over my lips. He moved away as I sputtered and spit, swallowed and gagged on his come. I didn't have a lot of time to breathe, before another ex was in my face. His cock down my throat. This time he sat facing Master. As he pumped in and out of my forced opening, his hand locked on my tits and he squeezed them hard.