The collar chafed at my skin, the weight of it more in my imagination than in reality. I kept my eyes down as I had been instructed. I looked at my hands splayed on the rough floor, my long, slender fingers pale in contrast to the dark wood, my nails, bright red and perfectly shaped. I focused on my hands, trying to ignore the fear that grew stronger by the minute. My knees were sore from the hard floor beneath them. I arched my back, relieving my muscles and stretching against the tightness that had built up in my muscles as I waited.
The click of the leash sounded louder in my ear than I knew it really was. The metallic noise echoed in the silence. I felt a quick tug, the collar digging into my flesh. I crawled forward, wanting desperately to look up as I entered the darkened room on my hands and knees. The fear threatened to take over my senses. I felt my stomach churning and tightening into a knot. My muscles quivered as my nerves responded to the rush of adrenaline that flooded my body. I told myself to calm down, but the fight or flight response had kicked in and I felt every fiber of my being fighting against the part of my brain that told me to do as I was told.
When I felt another tug I stopped, my hands flat against the floor, my knees pressing into the hard wood. I heard voices over the rush of blood in my ears. There were a number of conversations taking place at once and it was impossible to tell how many were present. I felt nausea brewing and swallowed against it. My mouth was so dry. I could feel my body shaking and try as I might, I could not stop it. I thought of them looking at me, judging me, watching me shake in fear. They were enjoying this, I was sure of that. I heard the voices become louder and saw feet approaching in my periphery. I fought the urge to look up yet again. There were at least four pairs of feet within my line of sight at this point. I could hear more voices further away and wondered yet again how many there were.
I felt a slight tug as the clasp was opened and the leash was released from the collar. I started to panic a little. I wondered how bad the repercussions would be if I simply stood and walked out of the room. I knew I wouldn't. I would regret it. As scared as I was I knew I could not leave. I needed to please him. I needed to do this. I wanted to do this. I wanted to scream, to break my silence, to let off the nervous energy that coursed through my body. The need that I felt was astounding. The thought of being used scared me almost as much as it aroused me. The thought of being his whore, of being used at his direction, by any he chose, however he saw fit, made me desperate.
The sudden touch of his hand upon the back of my neck made me gasp. His touch was cold against the heat of my flesh. Still, that touch made me feel so good. I arched upward, feeling his skin on mine and wanting more. I was not disappointed. His other hand slid around my throat until he had me collared with his hands.
"Are you ready to be used, whore?" His voice was quiet in my ear and there was a note of pleasure and excitement in it that sent a flutter of wanting through me.
"Yes." I responded.
"You want to whore for me, don't you?"
"Yes. I want to whore for you."
He chuckled and the sound made me tense a little. The thought of his pleasure filled me with pride while at the same time ringing alarms somewhere in the back of my mind.
"You will be fully used, whore. You will be treated like the slut that you are."
"Thank you," I whispered.
"You are welcome, whore." The smile in his voice struck a chord and I felt myself swell with pride.
When he took his hands from my throat I felt a loss. I still felt every bit as owned, but the loss of that touch was almost painful. I had little time to think on that loss as I felt hands suddenly on my body. I cried out in shock and quickly caught myself and clenched my teeth to silence the sound. I steadied myself, spreading my knees wider and locking my elbows in place as I was mauled by more hands than I could count. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
I was being thoroughly inspected. Hands covered my breasts, tugged at my hair and slid over my ass. When my sex was roughly spread and fingers thrust deep inside me I instinctively pressed back against the intrusion. I was fingered hard and fast before being left empty, thrusting back against nothingness and wanting more. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to steady myself. I arched my back downward, thrusting out my sex in what I hoped was an inviting manner. I heard a chuckle from a few feet away and recognized it immediately. I was desperate and he knew it. He knew that I would be wet with need. Fingers tugged and twisted my nipples and I cried out as the pain sent shocks through my body. As soon as I took a breath I felt a sharp smack on my ass that made me cry out again. The sting was exquisite and I bucked forward to escape the next. I realized my error as the next smack came harder than the last and I immediately thrust my ass high again, correcting my posture. The next smack was hard, but not as hard as the last. I locked my elbows and thrust back again, wanting to show that I could take more.
My knees were suddenly thrust apart, the delicate skin scraping against the floor. At the same time a hand pressed against the middle of my back, pushing me downward. I pressed my face to the cold floor, my head turning and my arms sliding out before me. My back arched uncomfortably until the pressure eased when I reached the desired position. Another smack took my breath, this one on my sex which had been fully exposed as my body was manipulated. I stifled a scream not knowing if it was caused by the pain or the pleasure. My breasts were mashed against the floor and the rough surface assaulted my hardened nipples. Each new smack made my body slide forward, my nipples dragged roughly with the movement.
Fingers were thrust into me again, hard, deep, and fast. I was fucked hard, the knuckles banging against bone with each thrust. I felt my clit being rubbed and I pressed back hard, wanting release, needing it. I felt my hair pulled back as I was mauled by other hands. I moaned at the touch, feeling my body reacting. The fingers left me empty and thrusting. I could hear myself repeating the word please, over and over again, whispering in a desperate tone, barely audible above my own panting. I was left more desperate when the fingers rubbing my clit were taken away. I felt hands on my hips and back, a groping that left my skin wet. I was pinched and squeezed, my skin pulled from different directions. When those fingers neared my sex again I thrust back, wanting and needing. My hips were grasped firmly and I was pulled up again, my hands once again splayed against the hard floor and my elbows locking in place as I was pulled back. The motion was fluid and quick and I felt a nudging at my sex before I was entered hard, deep, and fast. I felt myself melt as the hardness filled me up and pounded me. I thrust back, meeting the motion and matching the rhythm. Hands grasped at my breasts and I felt my nipples twisted and pulled. I was torn between pleasure and pain, the two sensations wracking my body in waves.
When I felt a cold wetness drizzled over my ass I knew what was coming next and felt myself clenching instinctively. I didn't know if I was ready for this new assault. I felt a hand slide over my ass and then fingers toying with my hole. I pressed back, wanting it in spite of my fear. I wanted to feel filled. I needed to be fully used. The finger pressed inside me uncomfortably, slowly thrusting in and out, stretching me. I felt the finger pulled out and a hardness in its place. I clenched my teeth, the pain sending a spike of electricity shooting along my spine. The object was thrust in and out until I became more accustomed to the movement. All the while I was fucked, my cunt filled and emptied methodically and slowly.
When the movement stopped and the object in my ass started to vibrate I moaned with pleasure. My entire body picked up the vibrations and sent ripples of pleasure flooding through me, sensed by every nerve and magnified ten-fold. Apparently my response did not go unnoticed.
"Does that feel good, whore?" He whispered in my ear.
"Yes." My voice was barely audible.
"Tell me, whore."
"It feels wonderful. Thank you."
"You are welcome whore. Do you need to cum?"
"Yes, please." I begged, not caring if my voice was desperate or not.
"I don't think so, whore. I don't think you need it that badly just yet."
I whimpered as the vibrating stopped and I was left completely empty. My body sagged as I was left in my need, my body devoid of any sensation but the need that I felt.
"Are you enjoying whoring for me?" He asked with a smile in his voice.
"Yes. I am enjoying whoring for you." I could hear the pleading in my voice.
"You are a pleasing whore."
