"Me? Your slave? Forget it!" Camilla shouted indignantly.
"OK," the first man said. "Have it your way. Dirk, grab her legs." He grabbed her arms while Dirk approached her.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?" she shouted as Dirk picked her up by the legs. "Let go of me!"
"Oh, we will in a minute," Dirk said as they went into the outside balcony. "Ready to take a swim?" He referred to the swimming pool on the ground, three floors down.
"Wait!" she screamed. "Don't!" They held her over the balcony rails, ready to throw her.
"Are you a slave or not?" the first man asked. "On three, Dirk: one..."
"Please! Don't!" she screamed.
"I think she said 'no', Guy," Dirk said. "Two..."
"OK!" she yelled. "I'll do it. Please don't throw me." They put her down, and she went into the kitchen to make them some breakfast. They went into their bedroom for some quick gay sex.
She grudgingly made scrambled eggs and toast for them and for herself. She put their breakfasts on the dining room table, and went into the bedroom to tell them they could eat. Though she was annoyed at being made their servant, she eagerly wanted to watch them make love, for she found gay sex exciting to watch (she had an extensive collection of gay porn DVDs in her apartment). When she opened the door, Guy was reaching orgasm during anal sex with Dirk; at least she could enjoy seeing that.
"Breakfast is ready," she told them.
"Hey, get out of here!" Dirk shouted. "We don't want you watching us! Back in the kitchen!" She went back into the kitchen, wondering what she could do to get out of this predicament. In a compartment under the sink, she found an insecticide spray can, corrosive to the skin. She remembered the Vaseline container, the bisexual men's enjoyment of gay sex, and started plotting her revenge.
The two men got some clothes out of their hiding place, in a secret wall behind their closet, where they'd put all their clothes, even towels, while Camilla had been sleeping. This way, if she left, she'd have to leave naked. They got dressed and went to the dining room. As they sat to eat, she went into the kitchen to get her plate of food.
"Where are you going?" Dirk asked angrily. "Clean the bedroom."
"But I'm hungry," she said, on the verge of tears, as she took her plate over to the dining room table.
"If you wanna eat," Guy said while taking away her plate, "eat on the floor like every other dog." He dropped the food on the wooden floor. She started crying.
Dirk got a dog leash and collar from the closet. "Let's do this right," he said as he put the collar around her neck. "Now get down and eat." She got down on all fours and started eating. The men admired her behind as the collared, naked girl gulped scrambled eggs between sobs. "Bark like a dog," Dirk ordered.
"Hmm?" she said with a mouthful of egg.
Dirk pulled her head up with the leash. "No barking, no eating," he insisted. She gave a few weak canine yelps between her sobs, and he let her back down to eat.
After breakfast, the three of them went in the bathroom to take a shower together. On the sink she saw two containers of Vaseline, one used and one unused. She continued planning as the men got undressed. They all got in the shower stall, and Guy turned on the water. She was ordered to clean their every crevice while they cleaned her body more in the form of gropes than anything else. As she cleaned their legs, they made her perform fellatio on them; with the shower water falling on her face, it was hard to breathe, but she managed to do it, deliberately bringing both men to orgasm as quickly as she could to get it over with. After their shower, she dried them off and herself. They got dressed and took the towels back to the hiding place while she cleaned the washroom. She would have to continue cleaning the rest of the apartment, or else be kicked out of the apartment without any clothes. The men didn't care which choice she made, but those were her only two choices.
Guy left the apartment to go grocery shopping, and Dirk decided to take a nap on the sofa. Camilla continued her planning. These men were brutal, she thought, but also very stupid. She could have easily called the police, or gone for help from the neighbours, but she didn't want to. She wanted revenge. Normally Camilla didn't want to hurt anybody; she only wanted to give people pleasure. Now, though, she had been pushed too far in being made a slave. She had been terrorized by men for much of that Saturday morning, and she was sick of it. She was like a modern-day Sadean Justine, though her misfortunes came not from virtue. Her plan was to spray the insecticide on the men's Vaseline, so as to spice up their sex life in a way never before conceived; but first she would have to find a neighbour willing to take her in and give her protection, as well as a ride home. Again, she would have to play 'loaded Russian roulette' with her body, hoping this time to meet a genuinely good person.
She stood behind the front door, which she kept ajar so she could look through the crack and see if any of the neighbours coming and going in the hall appealed to her. She watched and waited. A few men and women went in and out of their apartments, but none of them were to her liking. As she waited for, preferably, a handsome forty-something man, she thought of what Ms. Callahan had told her: being a 'slut' would one day put her in a degrading situation like the one she was in now. Camilla hated to admit it, but her nemesis teacher seemed to have a valid point. Not to blame Camilla as the victim here, but the girl would have to be more careful in her sexual dealings with men in the future. She could also understand why it was wrong for women to trade their freedom just for protection, Guy's and Dirk's 'protection' being particularly dubious. Camilla didn't mind sexually submitting to those male teachers she found appealing, because she admired them for their intelligence and, as she saw it, their sophistication; but Guy and Dirk, as were those teen punks she'd narrowly escaped from, were contemptible in their blatant lack of respect for her rights as a human being. Those men were going to pay for what they'd been doing to her. When Camilla finally got home, she'd apologize to Candice for being unfaithful, and she'd control her wild ways to avoid another predicament like this.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes of watching the hallway, a good-looking man came with a bag of groceries and a key to unlock his apartment door. With an amazing stroke of good luck, it was Mr. Fulson, her math teacher! Though he'd boldly groped where many a man had groped before, he'd always been nice to her, and she genuinely wanted to sleep with him. As he unlocked his door, she opened hers and 'Dolly' said, "Hi sir!"
