The Contract
by Jennifer Harrison

Part 3

I don’t remember much about getting back to the house, just the pain – in my feet, across my back – I was walking as if in a trance, only vaguely aware of you and Mary on either side of me.

The next thing I remember is being put on the couch and stripped out of my harness, the plug being removed from my arse, you standing over me, helping me. I suddenly feel so safe! It’s over, and I’m safe in your care! I feel a sudden overwhelming rush of love for you, my hero, my saviour! My Sir, my… owner. And Mary too, she is my owner. Her cruelty scares me so much, but it attracts me as well…

Then you carry me upstairs and put me down on my bed. My raw back on the covers hurts, but I want to look at you. You flip me over and apply soothing cream to my welts. It feels so good, and you are so gentle. When I ask you why you are so good to me now, you dismiss it by saying you don’t want me ruined. I think about that, and it makes sense – I’m an expensive toy, and you want to get the most out of me, not break me and toss me aside. That is very reassuring and, as you rub me so gently, so erotically, my arousal returns.

“I apologise for my weakness, Sir,” I say, sincere in my regret that my body is not yet strong enough, “But I will get better and I will always try to please you and your wife.” You smile appreciatively and start to turn to leave me to sleep, but I have an overwhelming surge of lust – I need your body! I grab your hand, not prepared to let you go, and I open my legs invitingly.

I’m delighted when you get on top of me, despite the pain from my wounds. I fondle your hard body as you suckle my breasts, then scream as you bite down. It seems a perfect emblem of our relationship – cruel pain delivered through a sexual act, and sexual pleasure delivered by cruel acts…

I become frantic with need for you and lose my head a little. You slap my face and scold me, reminding me of my place, but it only fuels my arousal further. You call me ‘slave’ and bite me cruelly, drawing blood, but then you enter me, and everything flies from my mind. I am consumed totally by the throes of passion, wrapping my legs around you, my fingernails digging into your back. Despite my fog of excitement, I have a moment of clarity just in time.

“May I cum, Sir…?!! Please let me cum…!!” I gasp, literally on the brink. When you consent, I scream out moments later in my orgasm, feeling you spurt inside me at the same moment. I feel euphoric, but I am asleep before you have even pulled out of me…

I wake up in the dark, confused, a light blinking and an alarm sounding. I reach out and switch off the alarm, realising it is 5.30AM, and I’ve slept for about 14 hours straight! I stumble into the bathroom and get under the shower, soaping my tender, bruised skin clean, trying to ease the ache.

Back in the bedroom, I put on my uniform and check myself in the mirror. My hand goes to my throat as I see the bright red bite marks, and I think of your teeth sinking into my skin, devouring me like an animal. A hand sneaks under my skirt as I remember how good it felt…

I turn and see my back, exposed by the dress, criss-crossed by the marks of the whipping Mary gave me in the cart, my cheeks a livid mess of red lines and purple bruises, further evidence of my pain and suffering.

But I am not upset by the marks, I feel proud – the scars are evidence of how much I was abused, but I survived it! I came through it, I can take it! Feeling pleased with myself, I go downstairs and begin my work for the day.

As I work away, I think about everything that has happened in the last two days. It has been intense, but now I can take stock. I think I understand you. You want my body and, sometimes, you want it roughly, even violently. But I can cope with that, I enjoy it when you fuck me, no matter how painful it might be, it satisfies a deep need in me. I have never had sex like that before, and it thrills me, even just to think about it!

But Mary… Mary scares me. She seems to want to break me, both physically and mentally. She wants my total submission, my subservience, my subjugation. She wants my will, my personality destroyed. Well, maybe I can give her what she wants…

I feel incredibly nervous as I take the breakfast upstairs. I knock and enter, to find you in bed but no Mary.

“Your breakfast, sir,” I say with a little curtsy as I put down the tray, “where is madam?” You indicate the bathroom and, screwing up my courage I knock and go in there. Mary is sitting on the toilet and I immediately get down on my hands and knees, kissing her bare feet.

“Please forgive for my poor performance yesterday, ma’am,” I say earnestly, “I have let you down so far, but I will try to serve you better from now on. I’ll do whatever you wish, ma’am!”

“Well, well,” I hear her say, though my head is still down by her feet. I hear the amused tone in her voice. “Perhaps you are starting to come to terms with our contract and understand what is really required of you.” She stands up, and then turns away and leans over the sink. “Clean me.”

I look up and see that she has been doing her business in the toilet. Her anus is shitty, as she hasn’t wiped, and it is clear what she wants – no, expects – me to do. This is to be my test, the test of my resolve to debase myself, to submit utterly to her.

Slowly I rise to my knees and, plucking up my courage and trying to shut out the smell, I reach out with my tongue and lick. Ignore the taste, Jenny, it’s not that bad. I lick everywhere, cleaning her thoroughly and, as I do so, I'm surprised to find that I am becoming aroused. I push my tongue against her sphincter and, when she lets out a moan, I feel encouraged and push harder. It is very tight and I have to push really hard, but eventually it opens and my tongue forces its way inside her. She lets out another moan of pleasure and I work the tip of my tongue inside.

"That's very good, Jennifer," Mary says, pushing me away as she stands up, "but I think you can transfer your attentions somewhere else. I also think Robert might like to watch. Come!"

She walks back into the bedroom, and I scramble to my feet to follow her. When I get there, she has crawled onto the bed and is kissing you, before picking up a piece of toast. She lies back on the pillows and opens her legs.

"Pour me a cup of coffee, would you, darling?" she says to you, "I thought you might be interested to know that our little slut seems to be growing into her role. Come, slut, show Robert what you can do with that skilful little tongue of yours."

She lifts her knees off the bed, pulling her feet up beside her buttocks and fully exposing both her sex and her anus.

"Thank you, ma'am," I say breathily, my excitement at fever pitch. I crawl onto the bed and resume my licking of her bottom, before moving on to her pussy. It is already very wet, and I kiss and lick it lovingly, pushing her fleshy lips apart and sucking her clitoris into my warm mouth. As I work on her, I can hear her becoming more and more aroused. I manage to glance up, and I see that the two of you are kissing passionately, your hands on her breasts while she holds your stiff member and slowly works her hand up and down. I feel very proud that I am facilitating your lovemaking, hopefully enhancing it!

I continue to lick and suck until the lower half of my face is wet with Mary's juices, pushing my tongue as deep into her vagina as I can, finally bringing her to a screaming orgasm. I attempt to carry on, but she pushes me away, obviously having had sufficient of me.

"Okay, darling," she says as she tries to catch her breath, "you decide- shall we send Jenny away to get on with her work while you fuck me, do you want her to suck you off while we have breakfast, or do you want to fuck her while she licks me again?"

I look eagerly at both of you, hoping you don't choose to send me away, but quite ready to accept that if it is your decision…


“Well… “ I answer Mary, who has put herself cosily below me, but I don’t answer. Mary fills in for me, “Why don’t we make love and tell our little slave girl to assist us? I mean, wouldn’t you like her to lick your balls while you’re pumping your beautiful prick inside me. Shouldn’t that be a great addition to our lovemaking.”?

I smile at her. “Maybe that’s a good Idea,” I say. “Hmmm…” Mary adds, licking her lips, “I am in the mood to kiss her pretty face as well.” from the corner of my eyes I see that you watch Mary with an eager, expecting expression on your face. Seems you can’t wait to join us in bed. So I throw back the blanket. “Come on, girl, get in bed. You’re needed. You could warm us up a bit.”

You clamber into our bed, a bit too eager I think, probably hoping you’ll also be fucked. But that isn’t my immediate intention. I have my dear Mary now to make love to and you… well you shouldn’t be more than serving as our aphrodisiac.

So I caress Mary’s breasts and she caresses my backside, and we kiss, and I suck her nipples, one after another, and we kiss again, and I suck her throat, and I caress her thighs and we kiss again, and my mouth goes back to those breasts, and Mary moans, and she wraps her legs around me, and…

Suddenly another hand joins Mary’s two hands on my back and starts massaging my buttocks. Feels great. You climb over me now, and lie down on my back with your knees spread to both sides of my loins, sandwiching me between Mary and yourself. It’s a heavenly feeling to have the soft warm bodies, breasts, bellies, throats, and thighs, of two naked women both over and under me. To my surprise you bend your head and, while your hair descends on Mary’s face, you start kissing her on her mouth, whispering that you love her, that you love her dearly.

Mary reacts with merry laughter. “You’re quite a girl Jenny,” she says and kisses you back. “I love to whip your ass and you in turn tell me how much you love me. Did you hear that, Robert?”

I smile at that dear wife of mine, wriggling below my limbs, and say that this is exactly the kind of woman we sought with that ad of ours, “isn't she, Mary?”

“Yes Robert,” she pants…, “she’s perfect… ahhhh Robert, you’re such a good lover… fuck me please, get into me…. I just love to see you in such delight.”

It’s true. I’m in heaven with four female hands caressing me simultaneously. I get hotter and hotter. Your hands separate from Mary’s now and shift their attention to my balls, no doubt in anticipation of me entering my wife.

You now stop kissing Mary’s face, who makes a frustrated sound upon you leaving her. Mary and you now begin simultaneously to kiss the sides of my neck. I enter such a high stage of arousal that it stops my thinking. My blissful mind doesn’t allow me anything other than knocking the sensitive head of my hard and erect member on Mary’s moist secret door. She produces a loud moan and spreads her knees wide on either side of me, no doubt clashing with your legs. But as an obedient girl you move back hastily, to give her the space needed to receive me.

So I push through into Mary’s soaking wet folds and slide into her warm body so deeply, that my balls slip from your hands and slap against Mary’s lower flesh.

But then, as I begin to heave and lower my hips to meet Mary’s, I feel your tongue lapping my balls and now also a finger enter my anus.

“Yesssss… Jenny… that’s it…. go on…. , yesss… go on…” I pant, almost out of breath. You do as I tell, and expertly begin to massage my prostate from the inside of my ass. Together with your warm tongue caressing my balls, it brings me to a peak of arousal. Mary, below me, now violently embraces me with her arms around my neck, and we kiss and explore each other’s mouths like we have never before. My love for Mary becomes overwhelming. She’s such a fantastic woman, so exquisite, such a lovely wife. It’s very hard to restrain myself with her moanings hot in my ears and her body undulating so wildly below me. Although you’re still with us, mouthing my balls, and your fingers continuing to rotate heavenly inside my ass hole, I’m completely washed over by tender feelings for my Mary. And she has become ecstatic too, now screaming out my name.

Suddenly I can’t control myself anymore and I spout my seed with gushing force inside Mary, who now also contracts l in a huge spasming orgasm, thrashing her hips, no doubt feeling my cum fill her up.

When finally I come to rest, lying satisfied on top of Mary’s warm body, she whispers. “Oh Robert, you’re so good.” She sighs and closes her eyes.

It’s only then that I realize you have stopped sucking my balls and retracted your finger from my anus. I look up and see your flushed face preparing to kiss me. But Mary now opens her eyes and, with a violent kick, throws you out of our bed. With a frustrated cry you thump on the floor. “Thanks, whore,” Mary says. "Go to your room and get cleaned up. I want the kitchen spick and span. And then start on a good evening dinner. We’re having guests tonight."

And you, still flushed red from excitement and, no doubt, also from frustration, get on to your feet, and silently leave the room. Looking back at us in bed, your face shows a mix of frustration and regret, and what I think is a barely perceivable trace of jealousy.

When you’ve left Mary kisses me again. “She’s such a sweet girl,” she says, “did she arouse you as much as she did me?”

I nod. “But you’re the best my love,” I say, “you almost made me forget she was there; I love you” and I kiss her back. Then I ask: “What shall we do with her tonight when the Johnsons are here? And as I hear you softly ascending the stairs behind the wall of our bedroom, Mary answers me with a smile.

“We’ll see,” she says, “I guess we could show them how nice it can be to use that new whip of mine on her….”

I laugh softly and we kiss once more. “Good Idea, my love. I’m sure they would enjoy that…” Smiling at Mary again, I look at her lovely face. We embrace, falling back in our pillows and her warm body makes me hard again…


Oh, Mary wants me to join in! She wants to kiss me! Oh how wonderful! You invite me in to the bed, and I get in eagerly, so happy to play any part in this, I don't expect or even hope to be the centre of attention, that's not my role. I'm just happy to be involved, to serve you both, to make your lovemaking more exciting. I guess it's my submissive side coming out…

I want to give you a wholly new experience. I wonder if you've ever had two women at the same time? Well, you are now! I climb on top of you and mirror Mary's actions below, hoping it intensifies the sensations for you. I realise that I can also reach Mary at the same time, and I lean down to her, kissing her passionately - my fear of her has receded, I now just want to serve her as best I can. I tell her I love her, and I mean it sincerely. I know that she will hurt me in the future - maybe tomorrow, maybe later today, maybe in the next few minutes - but that is her right, just as it is yours. Right now, it's my privilege to be able to kiss and caress you both, and I intend to make the most of it!

You say that I am just what you were looking for, and that fills me with pride and joy, because you two are exactly what I was looking for - an incredibly sexy and highly-sexed couple who would use and abuse me without compunction, no thought as to whether I'm enjoying it or not. It's strange, I know, but that level of disinterest, of disdain, I find it incredibly stimulating.

Mary and I turn our attentions to you, my sole purpose is to bring you and her the most pleasure possible. As you start to pump her, I try to get close enough to stimulate you, but not so close as to get in the way. As you slide back and forth, I lick your balls when you pull back, and use my fingers to tease your anus, knowing how much some men enjoy that. From your reaction, I guess you are one of those! I push my finger in further and move it around, trying to find a spot which… Ah, there it is!

At last you cum, and Mary too. I hope that was a wonderful orgasm! I let you rest, withdrawing my stimulation. But when you look at me, I sense a moment - perhaps now you want to play with me? I move forward, my lust growing, but then I feel Mary's foot kick painfully against my side and I am sent sprawling on the floor. I look up and hear her disdainful words, dismissing me and giving me my orders for the day. For a moment, I feel cheated, that I have done enough to deserve some reward.

But quickly, I remember my place - there is no obligation on either of you, and I deserve nothing, I was only doing my job. If you happen to want to give me some reward, that is entirely up to you. I must expect nothing, so anything I do receive I will fully appreciate as your gift. Right now, my responsibility lies elsewhere. I pick myself up and give you a curtsy.

"Thank you sir, thank you ma'am," I say respectfully, and make my way out of the room. I walk down the corridor, delirious with happiness, almost giddy with frustrated excitement. I can't believe this is happening to me! Here I am, finally, where I want to be - maid, cook, sex slave, and anything else you want me to be!

I do my work diligently and happily, barely able to keep the smile off my face. Because I have not had sex today, I feel incredibly horny all of the time. All I can think about is sex, and how it might be the next time. I imagine you fucking my arse again; I imagine Mary whipping me, making me scream; I imagine being tied up, beaten, fucked… My mind is in a whirl, ideas and images whizzing around. I want to touch myself, to make myself cum, but I know that I'm not allowed, and that knowledge makes me hotter than ever!

Somehow, I make it through the day, having done my jobs and cooked the meal, without any memory of it. I only come out of my daydream world when I hear the doorbell ring. Visitors? I rush to the door to see who it is, and find a good looking couple standing there. They say they are here for dinner, and I ask them to come in, I take their coats, and ask their names. The Johnsons. I ask them to wait a moment.

"Mr and Mrs Johnson, Sir, ma'am," I announce as I show them into the drawing-room. I realise that, as they are standing behind me, they will have seen my bare buttocks through the open back of my uniform, and the cane marks which must still be showing. So, if they weren't aware that you had a very unusual maid, then they are now!

I serve drinks as you all sit down and start chatting like old friends.

"Serves dinner in about half an hour, Jenny," you say.

"Yes, Sir," I reply and head back to the kitchen to check on progress. I wonder what these people think of me and my relationship with you two? I wonder if they have a similar servant? I wonder what you will be doing after dinner? As these questions flow through my mind, my arousal grows once again…


John is a big overweight man. I don’t like him particularly, as he often appears to be unwashed and sometimes reeks out of his mouth. But ever since he confessed to Mary and me that he had similar sexual tastes as we have, I appreciated he’s a bit dirty for a purpose. Nevertheless, we like Jane a lot better, and it is mainly for her that we sometimes visit each other to exchange ideas and talk politics. Last week, when I had him on the phone, I mentioned we were getting a new maid. He wanted to come along to make your acquaintance, he said. Dirty old man.

But, as I said, we like Jane much more than John. She always looks fresh and smells nice. She’s much younger than he is and rather petite next to him. Moreover she has a beautifully curved almost liquid body. I guess she is a kind of spiritual masochist. Likes to submit herself to her husband’s whims. But she’s not into pain, she once told us. She’ll do anything for him, in bed or outside of it, but she refuses to be whipped or hurt in any way. John respects that, it seems, although I know he does enjoy a good whipping. In fact, for lack of a real slave, he once told Jane to play with a whore, who agreed for money to act as a whipping target. I imagine that must have been quite a funny scene, because Jane is not sadistically inclined. But it excites John to make his wife obey him. I even fucked her once at their home, on the sofa, just to amuse him while he watched. She cried, and afterwards had to lick his shoes. I liked that.

And now they sit on our sofa; she discussing you with Mary, like old girlfriends; he looking rather excited at having seen you in your maid’s attire when you opened the door for them.

I pour some drinks and then asked if they would like to see more of you after dinner.

“I would not mind that before dinner as well,” John smirks, wiping his mouth with a very dirty handkerchief.

“But I’m not sure that if we invite her for a bit of a session, she’ll be able to properly serve us dinner,” I answer.

So John raises an eyebrow in resignation, rakes his woolly hair with a hand, scratches his unshaved chin, and belches, shocking his wife, who makes me excuses for his behaviour. “He’s just in a randy mood, Robert,” she says, “after we saw that maid of yours.”

So we have dinner. To please John, Mary attaches you to that very long kitchen chain again, although we don’t use that any more, believing you won’t run away from us.

While you put food on John’s plate (and I must say that it is delicious), he just can’t keep his hands from kneading your buttocks. I can see on your face an expression of dismay, even though you try not to evade his groping fingers. Your eyes look at me pleadingly, as if to ask me permission to resist. But I don’t acknowledge you and you go on serving food out on our plates with downcast eyes. The man is obviously not your type.

I notice that Mary is watching you intensely. When you are retreating to the kitchen, the chain clinking behind you, she says: “Come over here Jenny.” And when you obey, empty platters still in your hands, she grabs you by your hair and pushed you down on your knees, shoving you below the table. “Go on, keep serving our guests, Jenny dear,” she says.

There is a noise as the earthenware platters hit the floor. Doesn’t sound like anything is broken though, but John’s face lightens up. He grabs Jane’s hand and looks at Mary and me with a big smile. Obviously you are doing what you were told under the table. John’s other hand lets go of his fork and his dirty nailed fingers curl around the rim of his plate, as a drowning man clutching a piece of life-saving driftwood. I can hear the sound of a zipper and then John starts breathing hard, now watching his wife intensely.

Soon Mary, Jane and I enjoy the sight of tremors waving through his fat body, while gagging sounds come from under the table. Suddenly John closes his eyes forcefully, grabs the table cloth with both hands and produces a loud moan. Coughing is heard from below the table. Then all is silent. Until I see how Jane’s eyes suddenly grow large…

She gasps and begins to pant, with her eyes wide open. Shuffling noises below the table again. Mary and I look with a smile on as Jane closes her eyes, in turn grabs the table cloth before her, which shifts her plate towards the rim of the table. Suddenly Jane produces a loud cry as her food filled plate tumbles down to the floor. But Jane herself seems not to notice, engulfed as she is in what appears to be a hugely shuddering orgasm. There are some recurrent shuffling sounds and a lot of retching and coughing at my feet. I lift the table cloth and see your face. It's all tears and Jane’s food is all over your hair.

“You dirty whore!” I yell into your face. “Get out from there, clean it all up and serve Jane a new platter of food. We’ll think of a good punishment for this mess you made.” And addressing John I add: “Did you bring a whip or do you want to use mine?” Then I turn to Jane, who looks apologetically at me, getting up from her chair, her dress ruined. “Don’t worry Jane,” I say. “Mary will help you clean yourself.”

But then John intervenes: “Jane,” he says, ”Get out of that dress. It’s dirty any way. Come back here and show Robert and Mary, what a beautiful body you have. I want you nude when we’re punishing Jenny…”


Wow, what an odd couple! She is small, quite petite, very pretty and very well-dressed, while he looks like a tramp she has pulled out of the gutter and put into a suit! God, he smells like it too! There is a lot of body odour, halitosis, and a smell of alcohol on his breath!

"You must be the maid I've heard so much about," he says, staring quite openly at my breasts and the short hem of my skirt. "That Robert is a lucky sod! What's your name, dear?"

"Jenny, Sir," I reply, blushing under his gaze.

"Nice to meet you, Jenny," he responds, a broad grin on his face, "I hope I will get to know you better over the evening!" The woman says nothing, and I see her looking down in embarrassment, redness coming to her cheeks.

I usher them in and, when I turn my back to walk them down the hall, I can feel their eyes staring at my exposed back and my bare buttocks. I hear the man coughing, probably trying to cover his astonishment. I lead them into the room where you and Mary are waiting, and the four of you greet each other warmly, although I notice that you seem to be much more pleased to see the woman, Jane, than the man, John - not that I can blame you. I retreat to the kitchen and continue to prepare the meal.

When it is ready, I call you through to the dining room and then serve you all. As I lean over the table, I feel John's big, sweaty hand fondling my buttocks. My immediate instinct is to swat it away, but one look at you and Mary tells me that that would not please either of you - I'm here to be used, it doesn't matter whether they are guests or not. I feel his fingers slip between my thighs and I gasp as one pushes inside me. I have to fight to keep my concentration and not drop any food!

I manage to get through the task and I'm on my way back to the kitchen when Mary calls me back. As I stand by the table, she grabs me and pushes me down onto the floor, ordering me to ‘continue serving’, as she puts it. As I go down, I lose control of the plates I'm holding and only just manage to get them onto the floor without dropping them.

The meaning of Mary's order is clear, and I crawl under the table, knowing what I must do. I feel incredibly aroused, not only by the prospect of the sexual service I am going to provide, but also by the fact that I am once more being ordered around, commanded to act like a slut!

I shuffle between the big man's legs, which are already spread wide to receive me. I run my hands along his thighs and can feel the heat of his body. I nuzzle against his groin, feeling his big balls pressing the corduroy material against my cheek, and as I go further in, I feel his erection straining for release. Feeling like teasing him, I reach up and take the tag of his zip between my teeth and gradually work it down. The smell of sex is overwhelming - perhaps he made love to his wife before he came out, or maybe he sneaked off to the toilet whilst here and masturbated! Or possibly, that all happened yesterday and he hasn't changed his underwear since…

I take the waistband of his trousers and Y fronts in my hands and ease them down. Suddenly his shaft springs free, and I hear some excited noises from above. Again, I can smell a certain rankness - does the guy never wash?! The aroma of stale semen and dried piss makes me want to retch, but I steel myself for what I must do.

I take the surprisingly thick and long member in my hand, realising that my assumption that fat man only have small penises was entirely wrong. I bend it down towards me and then, shutting out the gross image of the man and the gross smell all around, I open my mouth and take it in. As I roll back his foreskin, I can feel and taste the cheese of unwashed semen, and it makes me choke and gag in disgust. Somehow I force myself to lick it clean with my tongue, and the noises from above get louder. Now I lower my head onto it, taking his shaft deep into my mouth whilst still gripping it tightly in one hand, the other squeezing and massaging his balls. I move my head backwards and forwards, up and down, my lips and tongue working their way along the flesh now slick with my saliva.

Any thoughts of disgust or revulsion have now been dissipated as I concentrate on delivering the best blowjob I can! It is almost a matter of pride that I do a good job, and there's also the fact that I am very turned on by doing this. It is very demeaning to be forced to do this for someone that I would never look at as a potential lover, and I find that so arousing! I can feel my pussy wet with pleasure, and I work harder and faster as I become more and more focused on the task.

I feel a hand on the back of my head, fat fingers curling around my hair, and then I am being thrust downwards onto his shaft, to the point where I am choking. The hand pulls me up and then forces me back down even further, until I can't breathe, then back again and down once more. I am no longer in control, he has taken over, which is as it should be...

Suddenly, it is all over and, with a strangled cry from above me, I feel the cock in my mouth spurt cum in such quantities that I struggle to contain it, having to swallow as much and as quickly as I can. The hand grips my hair even harder, making me cry out in discomfort, although the sound is well muffled by his still-erect shaft, and he holds me in position until his climax subsides, along with his erection.

After taking a moment to recover, I back away from John and move towards Jane. I raise her long dress up over her knees and then along her bare thighs, kissing them along the inside as I work my way towards her crotch. By contrast with her husband, she smells sweet and scented, obviously taking very good care of herself. When I reach my target, I am surprised to find that she is not wearing any panties - that seems unusual for such a naturally shy and demure woman, but then I realise that it is probably at the express command of her husband, who clearly enjoys ordering her around and embarrassing her.

Jane has a very hairy quim, and as I work my tongue inside her, I feel the short curly hairs getting stuck between my teeth and in the back of my throat, making me choke a little. But I work away at her, seeking out her clitoris and giving it plenty of careful attention. By the way she squirms in the chair and makes a lot of squeaking noises, even reaches down and tries to push me away, I guess she's never experienced something like this before - probably not even from her husband, he doesn't seem the sort to provide such a selfless service. I decide to give her the works, and I press my fingers into her vagina, penetrating her and seeking out her most sensitive spots, stimulating them while I continue to suck and lick her swollen clitoris with great enthusiasm.

Suddenly, there is a crash of crockery and I feel food dribbling down my face as Jane lets out a cry. I ignore the deposit and redouble my efforts, doing everything I can to drive her completely wild. I hear her squeal and then her thighs clamp together around my head as her orgasm bursts over her. I keep licking and fingering her, intensifying and extending the climax until she finally thrusts me away, unable to take the stimulation anymore. I feel proud of the job I have done on both your guests, though my face is slick with juices as well as streaked with food. I must look a complete mess!

I am surprised at first when you shout at me, but I realise what a mess the dining room is now in, and regardless of why that might be, I understand that it is my job to clear it up. I quickly pick up the plates which I dropped earlier and take them to the kitchen, where I wipe some of the mess from my hair and face. I return with more food for Jane, but she has disappeared with Mary, presumably to clean herself up.

"Your maid is a very good cocksucker, Robert," John says, fondling my buttocks as I work to clean the mess from the carpet.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, John," you say, "but when she's finished that job, she needs to be punished - I don't expect my house to be trashed over something as simple as a blowjob!"

When I have finally cleaned up the mess, I return to the dining room and kneel before you in supplication, my eyes down. At that moment, Mary and Jane return, and I see that Jane is now naked, looking extremely embarrassed with her hands cupped over her hairy sex. I see you look at her appreciatively, enjoying her gentle curves and beautifully smooth alabaster skin.

"You look divine, my darling," John says with a big grin on his face, "you can kneel in the corner and watch as Robert and I punish young Jennifer here." You two men go out of the room to fetch your instruments of punishment, while Jane meekly goes to the corner of the room and kneels down, facing me.

Now Mary steps forward. "Get up and take your dress off!" she barks." We are very disappointed that you have ruined what should have been a very pleasant dinner. It's not what we pay you for, and it's not what we expect!"

"Sorry, ma'am," I reply sheepishly as I unfasten the straps of my dress and pull it away. The mixture of fear and excitement is coursing through my body again, knowing that I am going to suffer, but so turned on by that thought.

Mary approaches me with a length of rope in her hand and binds my wrists tightly together in front of me. She reaches up and passes the rope through the framework of the chandelier, which I see is made of sturdy iron. She pulls hard on the rope until my arms are high above me, lifting me up until only the toes of my shoes still touch the floor, and then she ties the end of the rope to a bracket on the wall. You and John return, and I gasp in fear when I see the vicious whip each of you carries in your hand.

"What a beautiful scene!" John remarks, "three beautiful women. Perhaps you would like to take your clothes off as well, Mary?" It is clear that he would love to see her naked.

Mary smiles. "I wouldn't want you to think that I am a submissive slut like these two," she sneers," I would definitely rather be the one wielding the whip than receiving it."

"Go ahead," I hear you say, and watch as you pass the whip to your wife. I can't control my emotions any longer and I let out a thin wail as tears start to run down my cheeks. But I say nothing - I know it would probably only make the punishment even worse.

Without any warning, the whip cracks and I feel a line of burning pain across my back - John has started! I let out a scream of agony, squirming on the end of the rope, trying to process the pain. I am just about coming to terms with the blow when there is another explosion of pain, this time across my stomach. Mary! I scream again, the tears streaking down my face. My shoulders! Scream! My breasts! Scream! My buttocks! Scream! My thighs! Scream! Scream! Scream!

"Please, Sir!" I cry desperately, looking to you. "Please! They're going to kill me! Please, Sir!"

The whipping stops, and I look through my tears to see you walking towards Mary. You lean down and kiss her passionately, holding her in a tight embrace, then you whisper in her ear. She smiles, nods, and then passes you the whip before walking across the room to watch. To my horror, I see you raise your arm and the whip lashes down across my body again! John also resumes the assault, and I am immediately back in my world of pain. My screaming is constant, gradually becoming hoarse as my voice gives out. And then, finally, I lose consciousness.

I don't know how long I am unconscious, it could be seconds, minutes or even hours, but when I finally awake, I find myself still hanging from the rope, every part of my body racked with pain.

"I think she has suffered enough for now," I hear you say, "it would be good to do something nice for her, don't you think, Mary?" Unable to lift my head, I can't see any of you, I can only follow the conversation.

"You're right, Robert," Mary replies, "John - it would be nice to get Jane involved, why don't you ask her to comfort Jenny?"

"Good idea," I hear the big man say close by me, "Jane! Get over here and kiss this poor girl better!"

After a a few moments, I feel my head being lifted and I look into Jane's face. She seems sympathetic, horrified rather than aroused by my suffering. Cupping my face, she leans forward and plants her soft lips against mine, kissing me tenderly, eventually her tongue working its way into my unresisting mouth. The kiss gradually becomes more and more passionate, and I feel a little energy returning to my tortured body, allowing me to return the kiss. Unbelievably, I feel a spark of arousal, even though I hurt all over, my body is starting to respond.

Jane moves down, and I feel her gentle kisses against my neck, across my chest, and onto my breasts. She is very careful not to touch the ugly red welts which criss-cross my skin, but she sucks long and hard on my bruised nipples, making me cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The spark has caught fire now, and I feel my passion rising as Jane sinks lower, going down on her knees until she is licking my pussy.

Although I am sure she has never done this before, she is a quick learner, taking her lesson from my performance earlier. Soon I am groaning in unadulterated pleasure, somehow able to ignore the screaming from the nerves in my back, telling my brain that there are far more important things to deal with than what is going on between my legs. But my brain knows better - yes, I'm still in awful pain, but Jane’s tongue is performing miracles, the miracle of turning pain into pleasure.

I feel a presence close behind me and, even though I can't open my eyes, I know it is John from the smell. I feel something between my buttocks, pressing against my anus, something large, and I suddenly realise that it is not his cock, as I first thought, but the handle of the whip! He pushes hard, and I cry out in pain as it forces my sphincter to open wide. He thrusts it deep inside me, and the extra stimulation as Jane continues her work brings me to a shuddering, screaming, tearstained orgasm which seems to go on and on and on. Everything goes hazy, and for the second time tonight, I faint…


It’s enough! More than enough! I have to stop John with force. He’s still ramming that whip handle into your ass, which begins to show drips of blood, even though you are unconsciously hanging by your wrists, your auburn hair waving like a curtain in the wind over your low dropped head. Jane has stopped playing with you as soon as you lost consciousness and now stands idly before you, watching her husband and me as I struggle to get John’s hand off the whip handle.

But he does not give in, that bastard. He fiercely tries to stop me interfering. Mary has to help me in restraining him. He yells at us, but the two of us are finally able to calm him down and put him back on a chair, where he collapses panting like an old horse, his fly half open and his prick bulging inside. Carefully I withdraw the whip from your bleeding ass.

Jane, still standing naked, watches with fear in her eyes as her husband finally catches his breath, saying he could have killed you. “Isn’t that worthless bitch hanging before us just here to provide us with pleasure?” he sulks.

“Yes she is,” Mary says, “But she’s our property and you have no right to kill her without our permission. If you feel like that, try to find yourself a cheap whore and torture her to death at your own place. But not here and not our Jenny. Do you hear me?” Mary is really angry.

“Calm down everybody,” I say. “Calm down and let’s get the girl off that rope.” Addressing Jane, standing there naked, waiting anxiously, I say: “I liked much better watching what you did to her, Jane. But now come over and help me get her down.” Questioningly she looks at her husband, still sweating on his chair. He consents with a nod of his head. So together we free you from the chandelier and you fall on the floor with a thump, still unconscious.

I tell Jane to kneel next to you and try to bring you back to life. John looks on, still grumbling from his unshaven chin, and begins to stroke his half bared crotch. But his wife now obeys me. She starts caressing your damaged body and asks for a wet cloth or something. Mary gets it from the kitchen and Jane uses it to carefully dab your wounds and then to caresses your face with it, whispering soft words in your ear.

In the end you open your eyes and stare blankly into hers. It’s clear you are lost in confusion and do not understand what's going on. But Jane now soothes you by caressing your hair, and kissing your throat and your mouth. You close your eyes and Jane stretches her whole naked body over you. It’s obvious she’s in sexual heat now. Gradually you too seem to climb up again, wrapping your legs around Jane’s undulating loins and letting her breasts press into your bruised ones.

The three of us are watching with fascination as Jane gets in a frenzy of kissing, wriggling herself faster and faster all over you. Soon the two of you are what can only be described as “making love”, twisting and writhing all over each other, clawing at each other’s back with cramping hands. Then, finally Jane gives a high pitched yell, arches her fine body, and then lets us witness the most delicious orgasmic throes of pleasure, her whole nude body stretching and contracting all over you. And while she is in heaven, you close your eyes forcefully, produce your own throaty grunt, and erupt into a big orgasmic explosion of your own, like a predator’s prey that, in its final death throws, frantically embraces its devouring attacker. It’s a very erotic sight. Mary and I kiss each other in red-hot sexual heat.

Then Mary whispers something into my ear. It takes a few seconds before I realize what the words mean. She tells me we should get rid of our guests, and that she wants to take me to our bed upstairs. I fully agree. So I let go of her, and tell John that it’s been enough for the night. They should go home. Jane, who has heard me, looks up from her live mattress, and slowly gets back on her knees, leaving you exhausted and motionless on the floor with your eyes closed.

It takes a while before I have made things really clear to our guests, especially John. He keeps sulking and mumbles something about being frustrated not to have been able to torture you ‘properly’. But Jane, apparently relieved that her husband will not have his way, turns to Mary and shyly asks her to help her back into her dress. But now John interferes and with a raspy, but commanding voice, orders his wife to leave with him. “I need you naked as you are,” he adds. She begins to protest, but, seeing his threatening eyes, lowers her voice, blushes red and hesitantly decides to obey.

At the front door Jane turns around for a parting kiss with me, and once again I am able to feel her all over, like that time when I fucked her. “Thank you, Robert,” she says softly, pressing herself to my body. “You’re a nice guy. Say hello from me to Jenny.” Then John grabs her by her hair and drags her out of our house in the direction of their car.

As Mary closes the door behind our disappearing guests, she smiles at me and says she wants to tell me something. I wonder what that could be. We re-enter the room where we left you on the floor and I notice that you have opened your eyes, but still lie on the floor with your hands bound at the wrists. Together we untie you. “What is it you wanted to tell me?” I ask.

“I’m pregnant”

“Oh Mary…” I cry elated with joy. “That’s wonderful,” and I embrace her, pulling her warmly against me.

“I love you, Robert,” she says, “I’m so happy, but you know… it changes everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to have you and the baby.”

“You have.”

“No, there is Jenny too.”

“You mean….?”

“I feel like everything is changing. We should get rid of her. I’m sorry for you, but I mean it”

The remarks worry me.

I look down upon you on the floor and see you have heard everything. Your eyes are suddenly big with a degree of panic I have never ever seen before.

Disregarding you, I ask Mary again: “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Mary answers me, and she looks deep into my eyes.

“You want her… killed?”

“No, I don’t think that’s really a fetish for me,” she laughs. I am relieved and say: “We could sell her to a whore house or something, couldn’t we? Or maybe we should set her free.”

“And destroy the contract?” Mary asks, and then says: “I don’t think she’d want that. And to be honest, neither do I. But I still like the idea of something final.”

You suddenly jump up with an exclamation of horror. “NOOO!!! I don’t want to be separated from you. I need you, I love you, both of you… I need to serve you… or I’ll die… I’ll help with the baby… I’ll do anything…”

Mary smiles and says “Don’t worry, Jenny I know my responsibilities.”

“You’re not making me leave then… Mary… please…?!!”

“No dear, you’ll have to leave. And you have no choice in the matter. Remember you signed a contract. We can do with you what we want. I’m sorry, but things are a-changing. I want to share my baby only with Robert. You have become superfluous.”

Suddenly a violent anger sweeps over you and, before I know what happens, you have turned around and raising your leg you kick Mary straight in her belly.

“Jesus Jenny!” I scream. “Stop it.” Mary has taken a step back covering her belly protectively with both hands. There is fury in her eyes now. “You bastard!!” she yells at you, “That does it!”

Having watched the scene I feel anger rising in me as well. Your face suddenly spews hate. I’ve never seen that. It makes me realise that this is the end indeed. “Listen Jenny,” I say, trying to keep myself somewhat under control, “Here’s my proposal: You’ll remain here until we have a solution for this situation. But it's obvious you can’t stay with us any longer. Four is too much. We’ll find a way, but you’ll leave this house.”

Mary has regained her composure now. And it seems my words have a calming influence on you as well. “Give me your hands,” Mary says, “no not like that, on your back.” And you meekly, but immediately obey. I’m surprised. But then I realise that maybe you think this is a chance to melt our resolve, if only out of habit. Tears run down your cheeks as you turn around and offer Mary your wrists over your pretty buttocks. “Please Mary, Robert,” you plead, “please don't make me leave you.”

Mary looks at me and says: “OK Robert, we’ll keep her here for the night, but tomorrow I want her gone, whether she likes it or not, but I think it’s wise to keep her bound like this until then. I’m afraid that she’s become a danger to me and the baby.”

With an absent-minded push she shoves you towards the door. “Go to bed,” she says, “you know the way. Wait for us there. We’ll give you until tomorrow morning. No need to make breakfast, you can’t use your hands.”

You begin a heart-rending cry as you hesitantly disappear into the hallway, still crying hard like a punished child.

“I love you, Robert,” Mary says to me after she slams the door shut behind you. We are alone again. She embraces me and starts kissing me ardently once more. “I’m so happy that I will give you a child… our child…” she whispers. But I look concerned at her belly. She smiles at me. “Don’t worry. That wasn’t too bad a kick. I’m sure the baby can handle it.” I smile back, pressing her fine body to me, and say: “Tomorrow morning we’ll think of how to do away with Jenny. But now, my love, let’s go upstairs, I’m desperate to fuck you before that belly of yours gets in the way….”

Again she kisses me hard on my mouth. “I have an idea to dispose of Jenny,” she whispers. “I think you might like it. And Jenny probably would too…” she watches me closely as my eyebrows rise in a question, and then adds, “well, maybe…. maybe anyway…”


Slowly I come round, wondering where I am and what is going on. I feel pain across my body and remember the whipping. My rectum aches terribly and I remember the violation with the whip handle. I thought I was going to die, but here I am still, bloodied but alive. And what is happening? I feel gentle touches on my body, my hair, kisses soothing and somehow reducing my agony…

I manage to focus my eyes and I see that it is Jane, that monster’s poor wife, leaning down over my prostrate body, her naked breasts brushing against me, her fingers and her lips easing my torment.

She lies down on top of me, which makes me groan with renewed pain, but the closeness and warmth of her body compensates for the discomfort, and still she fondles and caresses me, taking my mind from my suffering and focusing it on her. I feel my energy returning and I manage to raise my hands, caressing her as does me, our bodies squashed together and our limbs intertwining. Unbelievably, arousal returns as she grinds her hips against mine.

Suddenly, Jane twists around so that we are lying head to toe or, more accurately, mouth to pussy. I need no further encouragement, having already recovered sufficiently to become caught up in her desperate arousal, and we both lick and suck in a frenzy, only intent on bringing each other maximum pleasure. From the corner of my eye, I see you, Mary, and the monster looking down on us, but I don't care. Take your voyeuristic pleasure if you like, my only goal at this moment is to bring Jane to a screaming orgasm.

Eventually, I achieve my goal just as she does hers, and we both cry out in climax. Neither of us is willing to let the other rest, and the moment stretches as the stimulation continues. It feels so glorious! The agony of earlier is forgotten as pleasure washes over me like an inrushing tide.

At last, Jane crawls off me, but I just lie there, totally spent. I hear talking above me, you are asking them to leave and John is being a complete bastard to his wife again. I feel desperately sorry for Jane, having to live with such a jerk, but it doesn't concern me, there is nothing I can do for her, and I just need to rest…

I hear the door close and then you and Mary come back into the room, standing over my still-recumbent body. I'm not listening to your conversation, but then I heard the fateful words:

“I’m pregnant”

The statement hits me like a bolt from the blue, sending me into a whirl of confusion. Of course this will change everything, and it is clear that Mary has been thinking along exactly those lines. How can you bring a baby into a house with a sex slave in it?! But what will happen to me?

Mary says "We have to get rid of her" and a chill goes through me. Does she want to kill me?! But no, she says that is not her fetish - is it yours? She mentions selling me, and of something ‘final’, and I just panic - I only just found this strange situation, and I'm really only just getting used to it, but I can't stop now! I beg, I plead, I so want this to continue! How can you sign me up to serve you in so many bizarre ways, giving me a taste of the forbidden fruit, and then snatch it away so quickly, so cruelly?! It cannot happen! I won't let it happen!

I don't know what comes over me. A sudden madness. In a frenzy of fear and uncertainty, I lose my mind for a moment and kick out at Mary, some insane thought telling me that if I get rid of the baby, everything would stay just as it is, you would still be the Masters and I the Servant!

It only lasts a few moments, but we all know now that it is over – our ‘perfect’ relationship is broken, and can never be repaired. I feel physically sick as the enormity of it hits me. I didn't know until this moment just how much I needed to be subservient. I think about begging your forgiveness again, beseeching Mary to allow me to stay, but I already know that it is hopeless. I listen to you numbly as you rationalise what will happen, but the words just wash over me. I no longer care what you intend to do, all I know is that I will not be here, no longer be your plaything, your sex aid, your whipping post, and it breaks my heart.

Mary ties my wrists behind my back, clearly not trusting me anymore. I can understand that, even though I know that there is nothing I would do now, the madness has passed. I feel her dismissive push in the back, and I make my way up to my room, knowing it is for the last time. I hear the door click behind me, locking me in, and I sit on the bed as the tears roll down my face.

What will they do with me? As the hours of the night go by, I start to wonder if I might find another couple like this to take me in. It seems unlikely, but it is a hope. Gradually, I start to work on my wrists, pulling at the rope holding them, trying to get free. I realise that I don't want to die, and I don't want to be shipped off to some brothel, I want the chance to find this again. It might only be a pale shadow of what we have here, but that would be better than nothing!

But it is too late! I can't free my wrists, and I can't unlock the door. I am trapped! I have no choice but to await whatever fate you and Mary have in store for me…


Today it’s the first time that Mary has made breakfast herself again. It tastes great. Different. I like your cooking, but it's special to have things prepared again by Mary. It puts me on my legs again after a very satisfying, but tiring night, in which we fucked so many times. The coffee especially smells delicious. And her scrambled eggs are unparalleled. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to get rid of you after all.

“So tell me, love, what do you have in mind for our little Jenny?” I ask.

Mary smiles. “I’ll think of something Robert,” she says. “Go to work. When you get back home tonight, we’ll see.”

I enter our home again that evening and, having embraced my pregnant wife, I notice a heavy wooden crate, its frontal part half open like a door and with holes in its roof and sides. It stands in a dark corner of the hallway. Looking at it questioningly I tell Mary it seems she has indeed though of something, and that I wonder whether that crate has something to do with it.

“Yes, my love,” she answers, “It does. It’s to transport her in.”


She does not answer but takes a little card from her pocket. It’s one of those cards you find at supermarkets with advertisements and requests from local people who shop there. “Here,” she says, “What do you think?”

I read the card. It is a hand written ad.

‘Looking for a female community household slave (24/7). Should be able to properly clean our lodgings, make our beds, keep our rooms tidy, cook for everyone, and be available for sexual services (of any kind) to all of us. Must be attractive and have a well-formed body. We are a group of dominant medical students, both male and female, living at a separate floor in a student lodgings building in the centre of Amsterdam.”

A telephone number for further information is added.

“Where did you find this?” I ask.

“In a super close to the red light district here in Amsterdam.”

“Could be something indeed. Did you ask Jenny what she thinks?

“No. Of course not. She’s still upstairs. I didn’t speak to her because I think that we, or maybe you, should give her at least one more chance to opt for freedom, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm. Did you call them, I mean that students' place? Are they interested?”

“Yes I did. Got hold of one of them. He asked me a lot of questions and I told him about our baby. He seemed quite interested in Jenny. Asked me if I could show her to him and his group. I made an appointment for us to go there around eight tonight.”

“That could be a solution.”

“I’m not sure. Because of her age. And also, she’ll still be full of whip marks from yesterday. I told the guy.”

“And what did he say?”

“He seemed a bit hesitant about that. Said they’ll see and then decide. He wasn’t too much worried about whip marks though. They are medical students. But they don't want her if she requires too much nursing.”

“Sounds like they’re serious.”

“I believe so. But being students they may be a little too young to enjoy Jenny to the full. They are not children of course, but still... So I told them not only that she looks young for her age, but also that she’s well experienced in cooking, household work, etc. We’ll have to see how they react. We’re expected at their place after dinner, around eight o’clock, as I said. I have the address.”

“Shall we go upstairs then?” I ask.

Together we enter your bedroom. You’re still on your bed, completely naked, still badly crisscrossed with yesterday’s whip marks, and lying on your belly with your hands bound behind you, just as you left us yesterday evening. It seems you have been half dozing. But when Mary addresses you, her voice seems to wake you up and you raise your head with a face red from crying.

“Oh Mary!,” you exclaim, “Robert… Mary…, please let me stay with you! I’ll do anything… I’ll never again be aggressive. Never!! You must believe me!” You roll over on your side and I see all those whip marks John left on your most sexy parts, especially across your breasts and your lower belly and crotch. They still look quite red. The sight actually arouses me. “Wait for me Mary”, I say, already lowering my pants. “I want to enjoy her one last time.”

Your face relaxes and you look hopefully at me, saying: “If I please you, would you let me stay with you? I love you, Robert, please use me any way you want,” and you roll over onto you back spreading your bruised thighs, so your still rather raw slit with its bruised lips opens up for me.

I quickly rid myself of my clothes and fall across you. You cringe in pain. My sudden body weight causes your scars to burn all over again. But that only arouses me more. I take your nipple in my mouth and start biting and chewing its rubbery flesh. You scream in pain and I grow a huge erection. I don’t know if Mary is still around, but I don’t care. You struggle violently below me. I must be hurting you badly. But I keep my teeth in your nipple. Until your screaming becomes hoarse. Then I grab your hair and force your head back into your pillow and hoist myself up to kiss your lovely mouth and to bite into the softness of your lips. You give a renewed cry of pain as you try in vain to dislodge your head from my teeth. But I love your terror so much that I only let go when I taste blood and your voice gives out. Only rasping noises now steal out of your throat. It means that there is not much more excitement to gain. So I heave my loins high and ram my hard weapon with brute force into your love mouth, penetrating your body so deep that my balls slap into the base of your flattened buttocks. The sensation of your inner flesh frigging my staff tightly as it moves in and out of you, excite me to bursting. Thus I explode in a very long orgasm, letting myself go off into you with long pulsing squirts of cum.

In the end I fall heavy and exhausted back upon you and do not care about whether you’re orgasming or not. I just took my pleasure. When I finally retract myself, my seed dripping from your cunt, you cry softly. I see that Mary has been filming us with our video camera. Should make a nice souvenir. It’s obvious that she does not care either whether you came or not.

When I get up and dress myself, Mary comes over to me, kisses me in my neck, and whispers that I was a wonderful animal. “It’s all on tape,” she says. “We should sell a copy to some sex shop in the red light district. Make some money. She looks nicely on tape with all those tears. You really raped her well.”

I smile at her, satisfied, and watch you on the bed, still crying.

“Time to speak to her Robert, love,” Mary says. “Let’s give her a last chance.”

I bend over you again and grab your hair once more, forcing you to keep your eyes at me. “Listen carefully Jenny: We’ll give you two options. Not more, not less. First, you can go free and leave us with a bit of money to live on for some time. But then we expect you to never contact us again and to leave this town forever. I would have liked to have you around for some more time, but Mary… well you know… we’re going to have a family. And you can’t be part of that.”

You stop crying although tears still gleam at your eyes. But you keep looking straight at me, avoiding Mary’s gaze. “Robert,” you whisper with a brief sob: “I love you… and Mary also… but how could I ever guarantee that I’ll stay away from you both…. I need to be your personal property. You two have made me like that... I’ll never be able to change back again… don’t make me disappear from your life…” But when neither Mary nor I myself answer you, you close your eyes and remain silent.

“Second alternative,” I continue, “is that we hand you over. Bring you to another place where you’ll also be used as a slave. But I don’t know what will happen to you there.”

“But we have a contract,” you protest with a suddenly regained voice, “I signed it, didn’t I? You two can’t just do as if that doesn’t count…!”

“Oh, we can! Did you forget what’s in that contract? You signed away your rights,” I say. “Mary and I can change or annul the contract if we wish, but you can’t. Remember? We will either set you free, in which case we’ll annul the contract out of the goodness of our hearts, or we will transfer the contract to whoever wants to possess your body. Don’t forget that Mary and I can still do anything with you, and without your consent. We don’t need to give you this opportunity. We just try to be nice. The choice is yours.”

Mary, the video camera still at hand, adds to my words: “Jenny, this is your last chance to make such a decision.”

But you won’t give up. “Will I ever see you again if you give me away?”

“I don’t think so, dear,” I sigh a little annoyed. “But who knows what lies in the future?”

You seem to hesitate for a while, watching Mary and me alternatively. Then you whisper: “In that case… I’ll choose slavery.”

Mary laughs and says: "Do I really understand that this is your decision?”

Silently you nod and softly add: “I’ll always remain your slave, even if you give me away.” Then you close your teary eyes again. “Do as you must… and maybe…” but your words drown in a sob.

Mary and I look at each other. It’s done. We go down and leave you behind on the bed. It’s dinnertime.

The meal is prepared by Mary. And it’s excellent.

After we’ve finished our coffee, Mary says: “Let’s wrap her up and go.”

But as we try to grab you, you begin to struggle. It seems you’re still in doubt. It’s obvious that you won’t let us walk you downstairs of your own free will. But it’s too late for you now. You’ve given us your decision. Mary whacks you across your face and suddenly you seem to have lost your strength. As I catch both your feet, you let yourself be handled. We roll you over and use some rope to firmly bind your wrists to your ankles. You’re neatly hogtied now. This way we can more easily carry you down the stairs. You keep crying and telling us between weeping and wailing, that you’ll be kind to us… that we can do as we wish with you as long as we do not send you away. Tears again roll freely over your face. But the two of us disregard your pleadings and lift you off the bed.

It’s still quite a struggle to get you down the stairs into the hallway. But once there, we lower you to the floor. “Listen Jenny,” Mary says, ”You made your decision and you’ll remain a slave. Fine with me. I don’t know if that’s to be temporally or for the rest of your life. That’s a risk you have taken. But one thing is for certain: you’re going to sit in that crate. We’ll fasten you there and close you in, so we can transport you without problems.”

“Where are you bringing me to?” you ask in a little voice.

“To your next life,” Mary says.

We untie your hands and feet, and watch you crawl obediently into the crate. Mary has thought of everything, and now produces some belts and chains. Soon you are fixed rigidly inside, and the last thing I see is how your eyes widen as we close the crate and hammer it shut with big gleaming nails.

When we lift the crate, it seems you try to say something inside. Or maybe you just cry. But the thick wood numbs your voice, notwithstanding the air holes. It’s quite impossible to understand what you’re saying.

It’s more difficult than we thought to heave the crate up high, let alone to shove it in the back of our van. But in the end we succeed with the help of a neighbour who has no idea what the noise inside is. He probably thinks it’s a dog. Sweating from the strain we jump in and Mary shows me the address on a slip of paper. We say thanks to the neighbour, roll the window closed, and are on our way.

It takes a while to reach our destination and it’s a problem to park the car in the centre of town. But we find a spot and then find the entrance to the students' house. Mary rings the bell and after a loud buzz, pushes the door open. In the elevator two beautiful student girls watch us silently. One of them blushes when I stare at her heavy breasts. But they leave before we reach the 13th floor of the building, finding ourselves opposite a door half ajar. When we enter hesitatingly, I see a group of young people sitting and standing, chatting quite loudly, in what looks like a big communal kitchen. Lots of unwashed pots, pans, plates and glasses on the stone kitchen counter. Everybody is dressed casually. I count seven people. Four women and three men. Or should I say girls and boys. They must be somewhere between twenty and twenty eight at the most. The age when one is swamped with hormones. Two of the young men have their arms wrapped across the shoulders of young women. Apparently there are some couples here too.

One young man, like the others still almost a boy, steps forward, and shakes our hands. Name is David. He says he’s been chosen to represent them all. “We’re over twenty,” he says, “so there should be no legal problems.” We give him our name and a pretty girl with what looks like juicy breasts, asks if we’d like a drink. Given the circumstances we both opt for beer. We are handed a bottle each. Straight from the fridge. No glasses.

As I put the bottle to my lips I suddenly realize that nobody speaks. There is quite an uneasy silence. They all stare at us and seem to be waiting for Mary or me to say something. Finally a girl asks: “Where is the woman?” Mary, taking a swig from her bottle, nods to the window. A boy with a red sweater now asks why we didn’t bring you with us.

“We did.” I say. “She’s in the car. A black van. Stands around the corner. Here are the keys. You better go, all of you, because she’s in a wooden box at the back of the van, and it’s quite a heavy load.”

As Mary and I seat ourselves on some kitchen chairs, sipping beer from our bottles, everybody leaves hurriedly for the elevator.

It takes a while until we hear the elevator stop and, with many exclamations and many hands, the crate is finally carried inside. The kitchen door is closed and my keys are returned. Everyone looks at us expectantly. Mary, always thinking of everything, produces a claw hammer. I help to pull out the spikes. Then I open the crate. The front panel falls to the floor with a big bang.

You are in the crate exactly as we put you, your knees tied apart and pulled wide open, showing your bruised cunt to everybody, revealing how badly you have been whipped by John, and maybe fucked by me too. With fear in your eyes you take in this group of young people staring at you, and blush dark red. It’s a display of sorts, and I realise that you are actually advertising yourself, albeit unwillingly. Then you close your eyes in submission and say nothing.

There is a long silence.

“Wow,” somebody finally says. It’s one of the girls.

Since nobody else speaks, I begin to explain all kind of things. That you have been only quite a short time with us, that you’re well suited to provide all kinds of pleasure, and that those whiplashes stem from a friend, who took his pleasure only yesterday evening. Mary then takes over and says that we have used you like that quite often, but also that you always performed our household duties quite well. When nobody reacts, she adds, almost like an apology: “A bit of ointment and her skin will recover nicely. You’re medical students. You should know.”

I take over from Mary again, once more elaborating on how well you clean and cook. But judging from the expression on their faces it seems to me that these boys and girls rather want to know how well you fuck and how well they could use your body.

I explain…

A boy in worn jeans, and looking a bit older than the others, interferes in the middle of my talk: “She been treated?”

“What do you mean?” I respond.

“I mean if she’s fertile… I mean do we run the risk of impregnating her, making her pregnant?” I see how you open your eyes wide. There is alarm in them.

“We didn’t think of that.” Mary says hesitantly.

“Well we do,” the boy says. “We don’t want those annoying woman-things. We could take her ovaries away, or bind them off or something. We are all medical students you see, and some of us are going to be surgeons."

I see how you pale. “Do as you wish,” I answer. “If you take her, she’s all yours to do with as you want.”

Again a long silence. Nobody speaks. Everybody watches you in that crate.

Then one of the boys gets up and tests the thickness of your thighs. “She’s got good flesh, boys,” he says, and he gestures invitingly to the others. Soon several of the students, happily chattering, including two of the couples, start groping and kneading your tied body. Some of them take out mobile phones and take pictures. I guess they’ll soon be visible in several social media.

Mary and I look at each other. These people are obviously quite happy with you. Some of the students explore your bruises and one of the girls licks your face. I guess that if we stay much longer there will be a screaming gangbang.

So Mary takes the papers from her purse. She calls David again. “Looks like we should leave her with you,” she says, “So sit down for a moment. We should transfer the contract, which she signed when she became our slave. I just wrote a short addition to it, to transfer our rights to you."

The boy listens only with half an ear. “Yes,” he affirms, “we’ll take her.” He looks longingly at his friends, all of whom now busy themselves by feeling your body and testing your flesh, joking and talking excitedly. In between their voices, howls from you can be discerned. Howls that arouse them. They crawl upon you in the crate with renewed fervour, grabbing you where they can, some of them trying to rid you from Mary’s chains, in an effort to grope better at your body.

Mary asks David to sign here, and here, and there. She tells him that the others should sign as well. He looks up at us with surprise, and says “No.” Apparently the idea is that you will belong to the house, rather than to the students. “When we finish our studies” he says “and some of us will soon, others will take our places.”

So you’ll be like furniture, given to whoever joins the community at some later time. “That’s a neat idea,” Mary answers with a smile. "You can adapt the contract accordingly.” The boy answers that he’ll do that, and that he’ll send us a copy, to exonerate us of responsibility. We understand what he means. “In case of an… eh… accident, eh?” Mary says with a knowing smile.

“Yes,” the guy agrees, “there is always a risk of accidents, isn’t there?” Then, without further comments, he leaves us alone and hurriedly joins the others.

We look at each other. We should go. Quietly we exit the kitchen, leaving the crowd busy with you. I look back and between the tangle of bodies clawing at you, I briefly notice your face. Panic shoots from your eyes as you see us depart. “NOOOO” you cry, “DON'T LEAVE ME HERE….!!!!” But then you’re voice is subdued by the many wriggling bodies. You struggle in your bonds. But as many hands grab and knead your thighs, your hair, face, hips, belly and breasts, I also see some glistening moisture covering the hands and fingers sopping into your cunt.

I close the door behind us, amongst enthusiastic cries of both the boys and the girls enjoying you.

Outside, between the white painted walls of the small corridor, they can still be heard. As we wait for the elevator. I embrace Mary and we kiss long and ardently until the lift arrives. We are both aroused by what we witnessed and by what we believe goes on behind that door. But once inside the tiny space of the elevator, Mary suddenly exclaims: “Oh Robert… I forgot to give them the keys to remove the chains.”

I laugh. “They’ll find a solution,” I say, once more kissing her on her mouth and grabbing her breasts. I am proven right almost immediately: Just before the lift doors close, there is a sudden sound of crashing wood, followed by cheering and laughing.

Then, as the elevator starts to move down, a violent scream reverberates through its metal door…


Hands seem to be everywhere, groping my breasts, fingering my pussy, even in my mouth checking my teeth, like a horse. Despite my fear and the fact that these are all complete strangers, or maybe because of those things, I find myself incredibly turned on at this moment.

Then, through the scrum of bodies in front of me, I catch sight of you and Mary walking towards the door. Moments later, you are gone and I let out a cry of despair, feeling totally abandoned, with no idea what awaits me. All I know is that our relationship is over, I will never see you again. My desolation is total.

There is a sound of banging and tearing, and the box around me disintegrates, leaving me sitting on the floor, the chains no longer holding me but all the straps restrain me in this lewd position with my legs wide apart. The young men and women that I have been left with stand around me in a circle looking down, appraising me.

"Please, I…" I start to say, but one of the boys steps forward and slaps me hard across the face.

"Shut up!" he shouts, "we don't want to hear you, now or ever! If you can't hold your tongue, we’ll cut it out for you. Do you understand?" Totally intimidated, I nod my head.

"She's quite old," one of the girls says.

"But she's not ugly," the boy who hit me replies, "she'll serve our purposes for the next few years while we're here, and if someone decides later that she is too old or her cunt is too slack, that's their problem." There is a general nodding of heads at this.

"You know you said about sterilising her? We should definitely do that, but we could do other things as well."

"What do you mean?"

"We could give her a breast enlargement, make them into enormous melons!"

"Or put in nipple rings."

"And pussy rings, maybe one through her clitoris."

"Why don't we just cut her clitoris off altogether?"

"No, if she can't have an orgasm, how can we torture her with orgasm denial?" There is general laughter at this remark, then they all fall silent for a while as they contemplate what else they might do with my body. This is so frightening! I heard the comment that they are medical students, so all of this is not just idle chatter but very possible. They own my body and clearly intend to treat it however they wish. While I am scared out of my mind, I am also incredibly aroused by the way they are treating me, talking about me as if I wasn't here or didn't count.

"You know, we could make some money from her as well."

"What, sell her? We only just bought her, let's get some use out of her first."

"No, not sell her, but sell her services. There are over 20,000 students at this university, never mind the staff. I'm sure a lot of them would love to rent a sex slave which they could do anything to, no matter how depraved. We could pay off our student loans with what we earn from her."

"I bet even some of the old professors who can't get it up anymore would pay to have their rooms cleaned by a naked slave!" More laughter.

It seems they have my life all planned out for me. Somehow, that thought makes me feel good - I suppose I've always wanted someone else to take control of me, that's why I'm so submissive, that's why I answered that advert, and why I signed that contract with you and Mary. It has led me here, to the point of utter degradation at the hands of these students.

As they make me give them all blowjobs, girls as well as boys, just to prove that I am up to the tasks they have in mind for me, I mentally thank you and Mary for finding me this new life. I think I will be very happy here, certainly very well used…

End of part 3

Copyright© 2014 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.