Chapter 16

 

By the weekend Erica’s marks had all but faded. Grace was keen that her guests would be able to see the evidence of the punishment on her slave’s back, but equally keen that any discomfort from them had eased, leaving Erica able to be whipped and punished afresh, for their entertainment.

Erica was almost looking forward to the party; after all, she had been promised that when it was over she would be able to get her long-awaited revenge.

Grace had no regular men friends, not in the sense of a stable relationship, at any rate. She had told Erica that she preferred women, but had no objection to an occasional dalliance with a man, including, if she was in the mood, lots of wild, abandoned sex. She did have a distinct urge to prove herself in the company of men though, and showing off her power over her beautiful slave would be a good way of doing so.

Erica watched the caterers from The Complex arrive during the day with their platters of food, setting it all out in Grace’s large dining room. Erica did not flinch at what two men were assembling. She had seen similar contraptions in The Complex, though she had never been in one. They referred to them as frames. Completely constructed from strong tubular steel, the movable parts could be adjusted and clamped in position so that her head, legs and arms could be fixed in any pose required. The whole frame was attached by a universal joint to a heavy stand, in such a way that the whole could be rotated, swivelled and tilted. They would be able to put her into any position. She tried to imagine what she would look like to the party guests. A thick rubber sheet had been placed under the stand to protect the carpet, but from what? She did not want to think about that at all.

When they left the room Erica examined the thick leather straps that would hold her in the contraption, and she didn’t hear Grace come into the room behind her. ‘What do you think of it?’ The sound of her voice made Erica start.

‘Does it matter?’

‘Not really, but I want to know. Does it excite you? Does it scare you?’

‘It doesn’t excite me, Mistress,’ Erica admitted. ‘I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.’

‘Far from it. I don’t want it to excite you. I want you to dislike it. I want you to know you’re suffering because I own you.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’ It still amazed Erica, even after all her time at The Complex, that anyone could think they owned another human being. Yet she knew it was the truth.

‘May I ask…?’ Erica’s voice trailed off, wishing she had not started.

‘What? Speak.’

‘It’s nothing, Mistress, sorry.’

‘Tell me or get whipped right now.’

‘Will I be beaten tonight?’

‘Yes.’

‘By you?’

‘By me and by anyone else who wants to beat you. I have a rather special treat for our guests. Do you want me to tell you what it is?’

‘As you please, Mistress—’ Erica never saw the slap coming, but it hit her with so much force it sent her staggering back so she had to grab the frame for support.

‘When I ask you a question, 51, it means I want a definite answer.’

‘Yes, Mistress,’ Erica sobbed meekly. ‘Please, I’d like to know.’

‘I want to see you defiled in the most spectacular way. I want them to come all over you until it’s pouring off your face and body, matting your hair and choking your throat. I’ve got fifteen men coming, some with their partners and some alone, and I’ve told them what I want. I’ve got some slaves being sent over from The Complex to help out. I anticipate each man should be able to come at least twice and every last drop will be spent on you or in you. Does that disgust you?’

Erica nodded honestly. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Good.’ Grace retrieved a key from the chain about her neck and started to unlock Erica’s cuffs. ‘Now go and shower. Clean your teeth, wash your hair and make up faultlessly. Wear the clothes I’ve put out for you. Come down here when you’re ready. You have two hours, so that should be enough. From this moment forward you will not speak unless told to do so. And I warn you, 51, if you fail to please any of my guests I will make you pass out when I next whip you. Understand?’

Erica nodded.

‘Go on then.’

 

Erica stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a large bath towel while she dried and brushed her hair until it bounced with its own natural waves, shining in the dressing-table lights. She let the towel slip to the floor while she applied her makeup and renewed the red varnish on her finger and toenails.

Only when she was happy with her appearance did she turn her attention to the clothes on her bed. No surprises there: a long black dress, the skirt slashed up the centre almost to her waist so as to reveal her legs as she walked. The top was nothing more than a halter strap emerging from the waistband, ready to be fastened behind her neck and ready to reveal most of her breasts – all that would be covered were two-inch wide strips over her nipples and the gold rings fitted permanently to the pierced holes therein.

Unsurprisingly no bra had been placed on the bed, and as the dress offered no support Erica was glad her breasts were pert and firm. She fastened the wispy black suspender belt around her waist and unfolded the black seamed stockings, making sure she didn’t snag them with her nails. She sat on her bed to roll on her stockings and fasten the suspenders, and then stood to step into the impossibly small thong.

Erica caught sight of herself in the mirror. If anything the years at The Complex had made her even more attractive, enforced fitness and healthy diet taking away all traces of the slight puppy-fat she’d had when she was first abducted. She knew she looked good, but the sight did not please her. She should be using her attractiveness on men whom she could pick and choose, not on any person wealthy or powerful enough to have her regardless of her wishes.

With a sigh Erica reached for the dress and stepped into it before fastening the halter behind her neck. Eyeing her reflection in the mirror she adjusted the halter straps across her breasts, noticing how the rings in her nipples, and for that matter her nipples too, pressed out against the black satin.

She stepped into the black high-heeled shoes and walked out onto the plush burgundy carpet of the landing to descend the stairs.

In the lounge Grace turned to face Erica as she entered. Behind her stood two men in dinner suits, accompanied by attractive blondes in identically-styled dresses, one in light blue and the other deep red, each cut low to reveal the upper slopes of tanned breasts, the hemlines only reaching halfway down equally tanned thighs. Erica realised they were twins before she took in the appearance of the men, who stood tall and athletic, with dark-brown hair greying slightly at the temples. With some surprise Erica guessed they, too, were twins. She also noticed that all five faces were now turned her way, registering her surprise.

‘Is this the one?’ one of the men asked, his eyes not averting from his appraisal of Erica.

‘Yes, this is my slave, known only as 51,’ Grace responded. ‘She’s available for anything you demand of her.’

‘Anything?’ the man asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Grace nodded confidently. ‘Anything.’

‘On your knees then, slave,’ he said to Erica, his voice quiet yet commanding.

Erica did not hesitate; she knew better than to do so. She sank to her knees on the carpet and waited as the man left his companions and walked over to her. Grabbing her hair he roughly yanked her head back to push his fingers between her lips and examine her teeth. This was a new one on Erica, despite all she had been through.

His hands moved on, downwards, possessive, across her breasts, taking the halter straps as they went, drawing them aside so her breasts sprang forth, ready to be cupped and mauled.

‘Nice,’ he breathed. ‘I like the rings. One could lead her round on a leash with them.’

‘Be my guest,’ Grace told him, already moving to the ubiquitous cabinet full of her instruments of subjugation. She took out two dog leads, moving quickly across to the man and holding them out.

‘Later,’ he smiled. ‘Maybe later.’

Meanwhile Erica noticed one of the girls move to the cabinet, examining the contents. ‘Kinky,’ she mused, removing a pair of silver handcuffs, then a second. She joined her partner with Erica, reaching behind to fasten Erica’s wrists behind her back with one pair of cuffs. She then leaned forward and kissed Erica full on the lips, her tongue worming between and exploring her mouth. ‘Definitely kinky,’ she repeated, breaking off from the breathless kiss before moving back to her twin, where she snapped the second pair of cuffs on to her own right wrist and her sister’s left.

‘Mmm, kinky,’ her twin agreed.

Erica decided to call the man enjoying her breasts Master A, and the other man Master B. There would be another thirteen men arriving, so she would try to allocate a letter for each one, though she knew deep down she would not remember who was called what.

‘May I?’ Master A asked Grace, his fingers hovering at the top of his trouser zip.

‘Be my guest,’ Grace told him. ‘Just remember what I asked you and save plenty for later.’

He smirked, pulling down the zip and reaching inside. ‘But of course, my dear host.’

When it emerged from the confines of his trousers, his cock was not fully erect, but he pulled Erica’s face to it anyway. She obediently opened her mouth to accept it, and at least he smelled and tasted fresh and clean. She didn’t suck at first, just existing there as he held her face still and moved his cock slowly in and out across her tongue. As he moved it grew steadily inside her mouth, slowly stretching her lips wider.

‘She’s good, Grace,’ he said, his voice sounding slightly strained. ‘Very good indeed.’

‘I know,’ Grace smiled. ‘That’s why I bought her.’

‘How much to sell her again?’ Master B asked.

Erica tensed involuntarily. With Grace she was reasonably contented. The cruelty was manageable. Better the devil she knew.

‘That scared her,’ Master A sniggered, noticing her reaction to the question, his cock pulsing in her throat.

‘She’s not for sale,’ Grace said, a clear determination in her voice.

‘Not at any price?’ Master B continued.

‘Not at any price,’ Grace affirmed. ‘Just be grateful you get to use her tonight.’

‘And abuse her?’ Master B asked.

‘That too,’ Grace agreed.

Master A was thrusting faster now and breathing more heavily. Erica knew Grace did not want him to come yet, but who was she to stop him? She flickered her eyes questioningly to where her Mistress watched.

‘Remember my favour,’ Grace cut in, and he began to slow his movements.

‘Ah, yes,’ he sighed. ‘Until later, then.’ Erica realised the last comment was to her.

‘You really should try her,’ Master A said to his twin as he pulled from her mouth and zipped up, and Master B stepped forward without any further prompting.

Within moments Erica received what felt like an identical cock in her mouth, pushed much more forcefully to the back of her throat, causing her to gag slightly. He held her head, his fingers entwined in her hair, pushing deeper until her lips were being brushed by his pubic hair and he growled with sadistic delight.

‘That’s enough,’ Grace told him after a few minutes. ‘Save it for later, remember?’

‘I’ll enjoy drowning you!’ he hissed quietly at Erica as he pulled her roughly off his cock by her hair, leaving her kneeling on the carpet, breathing heavily from the exertion of having to suck two large erections into her throat.

The two men turned their attentions to their partners, enjoying the fact they were now cuffed together at the wrist. Grace came across to Erica and crouched down.

‘You don’t like my friends do you, 51?’ she asked, and then added, ‘I want an honest answer, remember.’

‘No, Mistress.’ Erica knew the men would hear, but surely that was Grace’s intention anyway. ‘I don’t much.’

Noises from the hallway signalled the arrival of more guests. Grace went to greet them and they gradually filtered into the room. Erica noticed that two of the slaves from The Complex had arrived too, dressed in loose chains and minuscule black underwear. They served drinks and tried not to look at Erica. She, meanwhile, looked for the numbers on their buttocks, surprised to see that one girl was marked 102. Her tattoo looked fairly recent, and that meant they had enslaved over fifty girls since she had been taken.

The guests, too, did not take more than a passing interest in Erica, milling round chatting, enjoying drinks and canapés. Occasionally one or two would gather round her, commenting on her manner of dress or her body. One man told his companion to raise her skirt, leaving her displaying the tops of her stockings and her thong to all.

When people had eaten and had some drinks Grace called the room to order. Quickly the conversation died down so she could be heard.

‘My friends,’ she started, ‘you all know why I’ve invited you here. I want to indulge myself by watching my slave 51 being used as your plaything. And she will acquiesce, because she has no will. She will acquiesce because she does what I tell her to do. Isn’t that correct, 51?’

Erica was surprised she was to be included in such an announcement, even though there was only one possible answer. ‘Um, yes… yes, Mistress.’

‘Prove it,’ said one of the men, and others joined in with the demand.

Grace stood proud in front of her guests. ‘Any suggestions as to how we do that?’

There were mutters, but no suggestions at first.

‘Tell her to suck every cock in the room,’ a quiet female voice eventually suggested. Erica knew she would not like that woman.

‘Then every pussy,’ a man added.

‘Very well,’ Grace smiled, unfazed. ‘51, you heard what is expected of you.’

Erica settled on her knees uneasily, the cuffs biting into her wrists as she prepared herself.

‘Free the poor girl’s hands,’ a man suggested, smirking. ‘She can’t undo zips and rub cocks like that!’

Grace produced the keys from the chain around her neck and unfastened the cuffs as Erica waited. When she was free she stood and walked to the nearest man, where she knelt down again and reached for his zip. Over the next few minutes she crawled from one to the next, unzipping and sucking until Grace told her to move on to the next. Some were already erect when she exposed them and some grew in her mouth. Two did not get erect at all, causing much amusement among the other guests and embarrassed excuses from the men themselves, and one, a fair-haired man in his early twenties, exploded into her mouth after just a few deep, tormenting sucks.

Then it was the turn of the women. Some accepted her readily, others declined. Erica kept on performing as ordered until her jaw ached from the effort, and when she had dutifully sucked all the guests she knelt head-bowed, swallowing repeatedly to come to terms with the earthy taste of the men and the juices of the women.

‘Well?’ Grace asked at last. ‘What do you think of her?’

‘She’s pretty special, Grace,’ said one of the men.

‘I think it’s only fair,’ Grace continued, ‘that since 51 made David come so quickly he should give her a whipping to warm her up for the main event. Does everyone agree? David?’

The general consensus was of concurrence, though most quite obviously fancied the task themselves.

Grace moved to Erica and helped her to her feet, taking her to the nearest wall. Erica had been whipped there before, so she knew what to expect. Two marble pillars were set a few feet away from the wall, and to innocent eyes they would look like ostentatious decoration, but as Grace looped a rope several times round Erica’s right wrist, it was obvious to all concerned that the pillars had a much more erotic significance than mere ornamentation. When Grace had finished tying the rope she stood on a stool to attach its other end high up the pillar, where the profile of the carving made sure it would not slip down.

Erica was aware that her mistress had pulled the rope tighter than she usually did, and when the second rope was tied, pulling her left arm high up the second pillar, she had to stand on tiptoe to ease the strain.

Grace unfastened the halter, so that the dress floated down Erica’s curves, catching briefly on the suspender belt then slipping noiselessly to the floor. Someone, male by the feel of it, tapped her ankles to indicate she should step out of it. Then more ropes were fastened to her ankles. She tried to look down to check what was happening but could not get the angle to see, but from what she could feel the ankle ropes had been passed round the base of each pillar.

‘David, would you care to select a whip?’ Grace asked from nearby.

Erica heard the drawers of the cabinet being opened, a tense air of anticipation settling over the room.

There was more movement just behind her, and Erica felt the ropes at her ankles being pulled towards each pillar, toppling her from her tiptoe position, her feet being pulled wide apart, meaning they could not support her weight any longer and her bound wrists had to take all the strain. Her breath left her lungs as she was held taut by the ropes stretching her arms upward; her feet now pulled uselessly a couple of inches from the floor.

‘I think we’re ready,’ Grace announced, and Erica tensed. She sensed David behind her, watching her tense with dread, choosing his moment to lash out… and when it came it made her cry out. She did not want to, she wanted to show these people she was every bit as determined as they were, that she was not merely some feeble toy they could use and then discard when they got bored.

After three strokes she realised David was a novice with the whip. His aim was bad and the usual bite of the tip – the action that caused most pain and damage – was missing from his technique.

Then a girl appeared in front of her – David’s partner, from what Erica could ascertain. The white dress she wore emphasised her tan and the outline of her erect nipples. She sipped champagne, eyeing Erica’s expression as each stroke landed. She reached out slowly and slipped her fingers inside Erica’s thong, pressing them between the wet pussy lips they found there.

‘She’s really enjoying it,’ the girl announced. ‘She’s soaking wet. You are enjoying this, aren’t you, 51?’

‘No, Mistress,’ Erica replied honestly.

‘I don’t believe you, slave, and now it’s time you had a proper whipping.’

She moved from Erica’s limited field of vision, and the strokes from David ceased for a few moments as he handed the whip to her. The next stroke make Erica scream afresh, lashing down her tensed back, the flick of the tip doing its job perfectly. Then the girl’s face appeared again.

‘Do you know what I used to do as a profession, 51?’ she asked.

‘N-no, Mistress, how could I?’ Erica sobbed.

‘I used to be in a circus, perfecting tricks with a whip just like this one. I could whip a cigarette from between your lips without touching you. And now I’m going to take that thong off you. Enjoy and admire my skills, slave.’

The pain, the crack and Erica’s shriek almost coincided as the tip of the whip flicked at the upper slope of her right buttock, where the string of her thong traversed it. Erica prayed it had given, but it had not, and she knew more was to come. It took three strokes to cut through the thin strip and the murmur of approval was all that was needed to signal it had given.

‘And now the other side,’ she heard the woman say, and Erica braced herself again. The sadistic female took her time between strokes, but again on the third Erica felt the tattered thong flop between her legs, pause there for a moment, and then drop to the carpet. The strain of her forced position and the pain from the whip made her feel lightheaded and the wall in front of her started to drift and slowly spin. Then from somewhere beyond the haze that started to engulf her she heard Grace say, ‘Help me get her down.’

Erica was only vaguely aware of the hands that untied and supported her from between the pillars to a sofa. She was allowed to rest for a while as the guests enjoyed more food and drink, and in her vision stood the ominous metal frame, waiting for her.