by Jennifer Harrison
Author’s comment: this is result of a collaborative effort between me and mrhungry.
The week since her experience in the shopping centre had been a curious one for Amanda. She had spent most of her time during the day asking herself how she could be so stupid and take these risks. But then every night she ended up bringing herself to orgasm thinking about what had happened and how she had felt at the time. What surprised her, even shocked her, was that she seemed to be turned on by the more unpleasant events of the day - when she had been forced to walk through the shopping centre dressed only in thin, tight latex, when she had been struggling for breath as she gagged on Tom's enormous cock, and particularly when Carla had whipped her between her spread thighs - rather than those times when she had actually reached orgasm. She could remember the feel of every leather strand as it slashed against her sensitive skin, the pain that it caused, and the surge of arousal within her even as she screamed in agony. Just recalling those memories could virtually bring her to a climax, and it took only the lightest of touches with her fingers to make herself cum.
She remembered once hearing the phrase ‘pain slut’ and she wondered if that was what she was. Despite her misgivings and fears, she knew how she was going to set the parameters for her next session - she would allow Janes almost completely free rein, as long as it involved plenty of sex, pain, and humiliation. This time, it would last a whole weekend, not just a day.
Two days later, she had just finished in the shower when she heard a knock on the door and, throwing on her robe, she went to answer it. The courier handed her a package, and nervously, she ripped it open. Inside, she found a white dress, a pair of espadrilles and a blank envelope. She opened it and read her latest set of instructions:
Wear the dress, shoes and nothing else. Take your passport, credit card and nothing else. Be at Exeter Airport by 14:00, ask for messages at the information desk.
Amanda immediately took off the robe and stood naked in front of the mirror. Her hand strayed to the newly shaven area of her Venus mound and felt the smooth skin - she had seen Carla like that and had found it a huge turn-on. On the beautiful porn star, it had seemed like an empowering statement of her independence and strength; on herself, it seemed to say ‘submissive’, possibly even ‘slave’. Her heart raced at the thought.
The dress was thin cotton, with a halter top and a hemline which barely came down over her buttocks. She clearly couldn't wear a bra, but without any panties there was a good chance that even the tiniest gust of wind would expose her nakedness beneath. By the time she put it on, her nipples were already erect, clearly showing through the top, and she was moist down below with excitement. She slipped on the flat-soled shoes and went to find her passport. The thought of flying off to some unknown destination was frightening, but that was what Amanda wanted - to be completely in somebody else's control. She called a taxi and set off for the airport.
"Here is your message, Miss Burton," the assistant at the information desk said as she handed Amanda yet another envelope. She was glad to see that this one didn't have any derogatory terms on the outside, and ripped it open. The message inside was very simple:
Buy a ticket on the 16:55 flight to Berlin.
Amanda once again felt a surge of adrenalin. She had never been to Germany and knew only a couple of words of the language – it seemed that Janes had thought of yet another way to make her feel exposed and vulnerable. She did as instructed, and headed for the departure gate. She had no problem going through security, as it was pretty obvious that she wasn't hiding anything!
The flight was uneventful, apart from the stares she got from passengers and crew, male and female alike, clearly surprised and/or offended by her dress. Amanda had to visit the bathroom on the plane several times to dab away the moisture from her shaven pussy, and was very careful to ensure that she didn't sit down on the back of the skirt, for fear of leaving a wet patch on the material. Through a combination of her arousal, the slightly chilly spring air, and the air conditioning, her nipples were constantly hard, which attracted even more attention, but there was nothing she could do about that.
“Welcome to Germany, Charlotte.” Janes’ voice startled her, and she looked around in surprise to see him standing behind her as she walked into the main terminal building.
“I trust you had a pleasant flight?” Amanda was too nervous to reply, and confined herself to a flickering smile. She saw that he was, once again, smartly turned out in an expensive suit and, as usual, she felt underdressed alongside him, although for once she had to admit she was at least dressed. He held out a brown envelope to her.
“Put your passport, ticket and credit card in there and seal it, they will be returned to you at the end of the weekend.” She did as he ordered, and watched as he put the envelope into his inside pocket. All she now possessed were the clothes she was wearing, and those were not even her own. Once again, he immediately had her off balance.
He set off across the terminal towards the car hire desks and, with no other options, she followed him, having to almost jog to keep up with his long stride. They went outside into the gathering gloom and headed to the car park, where he loaded his suitcase into the boot of the car.
“Take off the dress and the shoes, and put them in there,” he ordered, pointing to the boot.
“What?!” Amanda exclaimed in surprise, quickly glancing around to see if anybody was watching, but realising the area was deserted.
"I think that was a perfectly clear instruction, Miss Burton," he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. When she continued to hesitate, he added “You are alone, in a foreign country, with no ticket, no money, and no passport. I suggest you do as I say.”
Amanda, startled by this development but seemingly with no other options, untied the halter neck and unzipped the side of the dress, before stepping out of it. She threw it into the car boot, along with her shoes, and stood naked before him, covering her nipples with one arm and her bare mound with the other.
“I like what you’ve done there,” Janes remarked, pointing towards Amanda’s shaven crotch. She reddened in embarrassment and turned away, inadvertently giving him a view of her bare bottom. He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out something she didn’t immediately recognise, passing it to her. As she turned it over in her hand, she realised it was a mask such as you might wear to a masked ball – black, stiff material covered in silver glitter, with a sturdy elasticated strap.
“What’s this for?” she asked in confusion.
“Charlotte, we’re out in the real world, and you’re naked,” Janes explained patiently, “I can’t stop people seeing you. I can’t stop them photographing you. This is your cover. Everything you have told me makes me believe you value your anonymity – the mask preserves that, while simultaneously exposing you completely.” Amanda was horrified.
“You can’t be serious!” she protested, staring at him in disbelief.
“It’s well within the parameters of the brief you gave me,” Janes countered calmly, “Charlotte, I think you need to decide if you’re serious – I’m afraid this weekend isn’t going to work if you keep questioning me. You might as well get the next flight back.”
Amanda understood the veiled threat well enough, but she was torn between her fear at being so completely vulnerable, and her desire for sexual adventure. She realised it was all tied up with the man standing in front of her – did she trust him enough to put her entire future in his hands? As so often when she thought about Janes, she felt herself to be utterly confused and ambivalent, unable to think clearly. As she had done before, she just had to go with her gut. She pulled the mask over her head, concealing a large part of her upper face, and looked at the man into whose hands she had placed herself.
Janes didn’t look smug or triumphant, but gave her an encouraging smile. He reached into his jacket pocket again, and this time brought out a pair of handcuffs, which he held out to her.
“Put these on, please,” he ordered.
Despite her so-recent capitulation, Amanda still looked pleadingly at him, silently beseeching him to take care of her. He said nothing further, just proffered the cuffs again. Reluctantly, the naked woman took the steel bracelets and closed one around her right wrist.
“Behind your back.”
Amanda looked at the implacable face before her, and slowly put her hands behind her. There was the sound of a ratchet closing.
Janes shut the boot lid, and led her round the passenger seat, opening the door and helping her in before leaning in to fasten her seatbelt between her breasts and across her hip. He could hear her rasping breath as he did so, recognising it as a sign of her arousal at his proximity, as well as her own nakedness and helplessness.
The journey into the centre of the city took about half an hour, during which Janes outlined his plans.
“This weekend is the German Fetish Fair, the largest event of its kind in Europe, and I have arranged for you to take part in some of the events and exhibitions. We will be staying in the hotel adjacent to the convention centre, so many of the guests will be attending the fair. Your current dress, while a little extreme, will not be out of place – you’re unlikely to get arrested in this particular city on this particular weekend.”
If this was meant to reassure Amanda, it didn’t work. The idea of being naked and handcuffed while surrounded by a bunch of fetishists was not one she would have considered just an hour ago. Now she was worrying about exactly what her ‘part’ in the Fair was going to comprise.
“Your previous sessions have been very safe, very controlled,” Janes continued. It wasn’t how Amanda would have described them, she had felt far from safe. “But this weekend will be a little different. None of the people you will meet here have been paid by me, or pre-warned about you in any way, other than being told that I would be bringing a new initiate to the bondage scene with me, someone keen to experience what it has to offer. I hope you will find it … stimulating.”
Amanda didn’t know how to handle this news, but as they left the autobahn and approached the city centre, she found she had more immediate concerns.
As they drove down the busy city streets, Amanda tried to slide down in the seat so that she couldn't be seen from outside, but she knew it was pretty hopeless. When the car stopped at a pedestrian crossing, passers-by pointed and laughed at her. Several young men came up to the side of the car and bent down, peering through the glass at her naked body, making lewd gestures with their hands. It seemed like an eternity before the car moved on, taking her away from the excruciatingly embarrassing situation.
Eventually, they pulled in to an underground car park beneath a high-rise hotel. Janes parked and helped her to get out. She stood on the cold concrete, looking around in the cool evening air, wondering what was going to happen next. Janes took out the suitcase, locked the car and started walking towards the lift lobby.
"Wait here while I go and check in," he ordered, before disappearing through the door leading to the lobby. Amanda was stunned - she was naked, cuffed, cold, and very frightened to be left all alone in the garage, with nowhere to hide other than behind the car if anyone should happen to come along. As if on cue, a car drove up the ramp into the car park, its headlights flickering over Amanda's naked body. Awkwardly, she got down on the ground and crawled under the car as the vehicle pulled into a free space only yards from her. She heard the doors open and slam shut, then heels clicking on the concrete, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She let out the breath she had been holding, and squirmed back out from under the car and into the harsh strip lights, her heart pounding in her chest. She got to her feet but stayed in a crouch, while she kept an eye on the door, praying for Janes’ return.
A few minutes later, the door opened, but to her dismay, a noisy group of Japanese tourists appeared, laughing and talking as they headed in her direction. Luckily she was able to get behind the car and keep out of sight until they had gone.
It was another quarter of an hour, and Amanda was shivering quite violently, before Janes finally reappeared. He beckoned in her direction, and she ran across the garage to him, conscious of the way her small breasts swung and bounced, but more worried about getting inside.
"We’re in Room 1570. You will take the stairs," he said.
“Like this?!” she exclaimed. A nod. It was fifteen floors! Apart from thinking this would take her an age, her immediate thought was, what would happen if she encountered someone on the way up. As she contemplated that nightmare, Janes dipped into his pocket, and Amanda was shocked when he pulled out a whiffle-ball gag and approached her.
“Please don’t gag me as well!” she begged, backing away until she was pressed up against the door. He ignored her protests and struggles as he forced the stiff plastic ball between her teeth, stretching her jaws wide. A leather strap around her head and one under her chin held it firmly in place, and ensured that only a rather desperate moan and a drool of saliva came out of her mouth. As his hand went back to his pocket, Amanda wondered what the hell else he had in there. Pinned as she was, she could do nothing to resist as he pulled out a clamp and closed it on her still-erect nipple. She let out a wordless howl as the rubber-coated metal squeezed her tender flesh, quickly accompanied by the same biting pain from her other breast as that nipple was clamped in similar fashion.
“I’ll see you upstairs,” Janes said with a smile, before he walked into the lift and pressed the button. Their eyes met as the doors closed – she saw his amusement, he saw her fear, pain, and raw lust.
Amanda was in a state of panic that no longer had anything to do with the possibility of her being recognised, and everything to do with the possibility of her being caught stark naked, cuffed and gagged in the hotel! How could he do this to her? It was pure chance whether she met someone, he couldn’t control that, surely. She thought back to her misgivings about walking in the street in latex, and realised this was so much worse. She felt physically sick at the thought of encountering someone on the stairs.
She set off up the bare concrete stairs cautiously, but immediately stopped and looked down. There was a chain between the nipple clamps and, strung along the chain, hung five little cat bells, tinkling sweetly with her every movement! That utter bastard, she thought. Any hope of proceeding stealthily and silently gone, and straining to hear any sound of footsteps or voices, above or below her, she ascended the stairs, feeling very naked and utterly exposed.
When she got to the ground floor, the stairs were carpeted. This made hearing other’s footsteps virtually impossible and, as she couldn’t move silently, Amanda decided her best strategy was to go up as quickly as she could, and she took two stairs at a time as she rushed onwards.
She made it to the third floor before she ran into trouble. As she came around a corner, she looked up and saw a man walking down the stairs towards her. They both stopped, staring at each other, the man’s leg almost comically frozen as it hovered in mid-air. He was tall – over six feet – and rather rotund, his face a little flushed just from the effort of walking. His mouth hung open as his eyes roamed over the vision before him. Amanda’s brain had frozen with fear, like a rabbit in the headlights, and she couldn’t think what to do, let alone make her body do it. Was this one of Janes’ setups? The fat German seemed an odd choice if it was, she certainly didn’t want an ‘encounter’ with him – the thought of him even touching her, let alone fucking her, like she had been in the shopping centre, appalled her. No, this wasn’t a setup, she was in ‘the real world’, and it didn’t look pretty. The moment stretched out.
“Fraulein?” the man finally blurted out. It seemed to break the spell, and Amanda, instantly deciding that the only way was up, rushed towards him, trying to get past before he snapped out of it. But, moving surprisingly quickly for such a big man, he cut her off, grabbing her arm and then crushing her against the wall with his body. The naked woman was completely overshadowed and, struggle as she might, could not break free.
“Please! Let me go!” is what she tried to say, but the gag turned it into an unintelligible wail. She struggled as she caught a strong whiff of body odour masked by aftershave, and felt his hand grab her breast and squeeze it roughly. His knee pressed between her thighs and forced them apart, allowing his other hand to grope her crotch, spreading open her pussy lips and exploring inside.
“Wie ist dein name, hübsche, kleine Hure?” he whispered, his face close to hers, a strong smell of garlic and beer washing over her. She had no idea what he was saying, and she felt repulsed by the man, but she also felt her body responding to what he was doing with his fingers and, despite trying to stop herself, she let out a moan. Don’t let this happen, she urged herself, you must get away! He leaned down, and his wet lips closed over her mouth and the ballgag, while at the same time his fingers dug deeper into the folds of her already wet cunt, thrusting into her.
With a big effort, both physical and mental, she brought her knee up sufficiently hard into his groin that he let out a grunt and loosened his hold on her. Taking her chance, Amanda pushed him away and ran up the stairs three at a time, not looking back or worrying if there might be someone else ahead, just trying to get as far away from the horrible man as she could.
She was at the ninth floor before she finally fell to her knees, sucking air noisily through the whiffle ball, her throat burning and chest heaving, calf muscles and hamstrings begging for mercy. As she thought about what had just happened, she felt disgusted by her reaction – how could she be turned on by being groped and fingered by a man that grotesquely fat? But there was no denying that she had, and she wondered what the hell was wrong with her – had she always been this depraved or was she getting worse, was she addicted to humiliation?
She wanted to lie down and rest, but she forced herself to her feet and staggered on up to the fifteenth floor. Meanwhile, in the lobby, Friedrich Meinz couldn’t believe his luck – he had always resented his doctor’s orders not to take the lift, but now he decided using the stairs was pretty cool. He assumed the gorgeous, naked blonde was something to do with the Fair he was attending, but wow, what a start to his weekend! He wondered if he would see her again, and if he would recognise her with her clothes on, assuming she was wearing clothes next time…
Amanda cautiously looked through the window in the door into the corridor. Seeing it empty, she opened the door and ran along the carpeted hallway, ignoring the jingling of the tiny bells and the way the nipple clamps seemed to hurt even more as her breasts swung and bounced. At last she reached a door with 1570 on it, turned her back and knocked as hard as she could with the cuffs holding her hands so close. As she waited for Janes to open up, she heard the chime of the lift arriving halfway back along the corridor she had just traversed. She knocked frantically as she watched a group of men emerge from the lift, hoping they would turn the other way. It seemed her wish would be granted, but at the last moment, one of them looked in her direction, as she tried to flatten herself against the door and somehow disappear into it. She heard more German conversation and looked around to see that they were now walking in her direction, wreathed in smiles and calling out to her.
Amanda knocked until her knuckles were aching, just praying the door would open and save her even more embarrassment. The men were almost upon her, and could obviously see her naked body in its bondage when, to Amanda’s relief, the door she was leaning heavily against opened, and she fell into the room, sprawling on the floor. Sanctuary! At last she was safe from all these weirdos!
Her first inkling that things may not be quite what they seemed was the sound of clinking glasses, and of conversation which had stopped only when she’d fallen into the room. She saw that the large room was part of a suite, and she could see a small crowd of men in suits and women in cocktail dresses, looking her way in curiosity but not alarm or surprise. A hand helped her to her feet, and she looked up into the eyes of Janes.
“I’m glad you made it okay, Charlotte,” he smiled, “these are the organisers and exhibitors of the Fair. Everything is set up for the morning, and this is their chance to relax. I thought you might provide a little entertainment for them.”
She looked at them and smiled shyly, embarrassed, while they looked at her and smiled, some of them raising their glasses to her. She was to ‘entertain’ this group of men and women who made a living out of porn, fetish wear and sex? Well, she guessed she wouldn’t be singing a little song…
He had a silk scarf in his hand and he tied it across her eyes, blindfolding her. She was led into the group and suddenly felt hands on her body, running over her skin, groping her breasts, squeezing her buttocks. Fingers pulled back her lips, as though they were examining her teeth like a prize animal. All the time, the unintelligible conversation carried on – were they discussing her, or just chatting about other subjects? She had no idea.
The nipple clamps were removed one by one, and she wailed at the agony of the blood returning to the pinched flesh, but it was eased when wet lips closed around each in turn and soothed her with gentle sucking and licking.
She was being pushed, gently but firmly, down onto her knees by hands on either side, on her shoulders and elbows. As she went down, she felt something between her legs, and hands guiding two lubricant-covered projections towards her vagina and anus. She struggled to try and get back up, but she was held too firmly and, slowly but surely, she was impaled. She felt straps across the back of her calves and on her ankles, holding her in the kneeling position, the intruders filling both her orifices completely. The hands left her and she was alone, wondering if the people were staring at her or ignoring her, and also wondering what was going to happen next.
Amanda jumped, at least mentally if not physically, when the vibrations started. Both dildos were buzzing inside her, and the one in her pussy had a little extension to deliver the vibrations directly onto her clitoris. The vibrations were low speed, designed to titillate and frustrate rather than make her cum, but that didn’t take account of Amanda’s already sky-high state of arousal. If the plane trip, the car ride, and the incident on the stairs had not been enough, the thought of being naked, bound, gagged and stimulated in the middle of what looked like a cocktail party ensured she could not hold back. Within a minute, she was writhing, her hips bucking, whimpers and moans issuing from her gaping mouth, saliva drooling from her stretched lips as she felt her body responding to the vibrations driving her towards orgasm. Thoughts of how she was embarrassing herself, acting like a raging nymphomaniac, just made it worse – or better, depending on your point of view.
Sightless and securely bound, the fact that she was in a room full of people was far from her mind as Amanda screamed into her gag, completely engulfed in, possibly, the most intense orgasm of her life. Somewhere in her mind she knew she was on display, the thought terrifying her, but the effects of the orgasm were not lessening and she felt another unbelievable wave of pleasure course through her, eliciting more sounds of both pain and ecstasy to escape around the gag as she fought to breathe.
When the rolling orgasms had finally subsided, she felt empty, spent, exhausted. She could feel a sheen of sweat on her face, under her breasts, between her thighs, making her skin itch unpleasantly. But the feeling soon passed and she became eager, and impatient, for more – she was helpless here, surely someone would want to take advantage of her?
The gag was removed from her mouth, and Amanda had the chance to work the ache out of her jaw. But almost before she could do that, her mouth was filled with cock, and a hand grasping her hair made sure she couldn’t back away as it was shoved in until it hit the back of her throat. She gagged and choked as it was thrust in time after time, with no great interest in her other than as a hole to be fucked. It wasn’t long before she was having to gulp down the salty ejaculate of a satisfied customer. However, as soon as her mouth was empty, another hand grabbed her hair, turned her head and she was gagging on a new member.
This was repeated again and again, and Amanda soon lost count of the number of blowjobs she had to deliver, distracted as she was by the vibrators inside her forcing her to another climax during the process. At some point, she couldn’t swallow any more, and semen ran out of her mouth and down over her body. She was also splashed over the face with it, until she was a total mess. She was starting to feel a little punch-drunk as she was turned, and her mouth was filled yet again.
The thought occurred to her that these people were using her, in the same way they would use one of the vibrators they no doubt sold – she was no more than a fuck-toy to them. She imagined them after she had swallowed their seed, casually fastening their trousers and returning to the conversation as if they’d just been outside for a cigarette. She was just a public convenience – something you used to perform a necessary bodily function from time to time, but you didn’t discuss it in polite company. Despite this jaundiced view of her role in the evening, she loved the feeling of her own worthlessness, and sucked and licked hungrily, desperate to deliver the best blowjob each guy had ever had – if they were going to use her as a fuck-toy, she wanted to be the best fuck-toy possible!
Eventually it stopped, whether she had serviced every man in the room or just those interested in her, she didn’t know which. But she had no time to speculate, as she was soon being prepared for her next task. She felt someone in front of her, then her head was pushed back until her sightless eyes were staring up at the ceiling. She felt the silky touch of a nylon-clad thigh on each of her cheeks, followed by the powerful scent of a very moist cunt inches above her face. It descended over her mouth and nose, almost stifling her in its wet folds, and instinctively, she stuck out her tongue and delved into its warm depths.
She could feel the woman on her face grinding her hips in response to her own efforts to stimulate and satisfy. The whole situation was playing right into her submissive desires, she really wanted to make the unseen mistress above her reach the most amazing climax, it seemed to become the whole focus of her being. She worked her tongue until it was aching, she used her lips and teeth where she could, and when she got the opportunity she sucked on the woman’s burgeoning clitoris. She was blind, she could hardly hear anything with thighs clamped over her ears, her whole world had shrunk to just the soft flesh above, which was now being rhythmically pressed harder against her, sliding backwards and forwards as she sensed the excitement building. At last, the body around her stiffened, the thighs crushing in on her, and a flood of vaginal juices into her mouth and over her face told Amanda that she had achieved her goal.
The fresh air when the woman released her and moved away was a sweet relief. But she expected that she would have more work to do, and realised that she was relishing the thought of it. She felt like she was being treated totally impersonally, like some cheap whore, and she loved it. When she felt another pussy slide into position above her, she was ready, and set about her task with enthusiasm.
Everything became a bit of a blur from there. There were more cunts to lick, more cocks to suck, and somewhere in all that, she had her own orgasms to deal with as well. She was sore and tired, but still it continued.
By the time she realised it was over, people were leaving – she heard the door open, the sound of goodbyes being said (‘Guten Abend’ being one of her few German phrases), the general reduction of noise as the crowd thinned, the door closing, silence.
“Hello? Is anybody there?” No answer, she was alone. Alone with the vibrators. She just wanted to lie down and sleep, but she still couldn’t move from her kneeling position. It was maybe twenty minutes before she heard the key in the lock, the door opening and closing. She felt the straps being removed from her legs, she was being helped up and off the dildos, led across the room and into the bathroom. She was moved into the shower stall and, moments later, she squealed as a blast of cold water hit her. The cum, sweat and other grime of a hard day were almost scoured away by the powerful jet of water trained onto her body at close range, making Amanda cower in the corner of the stall, shivering.
At last the water stopped, and she waited to be led out and either uncuffed or at least towelled dry, but nothing at all happened. She called out, but realised that, once again, she was alone. She carefully inched her way out of the shower stall and blindly tried to find the wall. She felt a towel rail behind her, and bent down, using the edge of the rail to work the scarf off her head, so that she could finally see. She did her best to dry herself, gripping a towel in her hands still pinned behind her and drying her buttocks and legs, then spreading all the towels on the floor and squirming around on them to dry her front and her hair.
Still damp, she opened the bathroom door and went into the lounge in which she had earlier been held, where her suspicion that she was now alone was confirmed. There were half-empty trays of hors d’oeuvres scattered around the room, and she suddenly realised how hungry she was – she hadn’t eaten since breakfast-time. Unable to use her hands, she bent over and inelegantly nibbled a number of the stale pastries, until she had assuaged the worst of her hunger, and looked around for something to drink. There were a lot of flute glasses with flat champagne in, but somehow they didn’t appeal, so she went back into the bathroom and put her head in the sink so that she could drink straight from the running tap.
Returning to the lounge, she made for what she assumed was the bedroom and was rewarded with the sight of a very welcoming king-size bed. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was 2am. Wearily, she squirmed her way under the duvet and, despite the discomfort of having her arms still held behind her back by the cuffs, and the lights still burning bright, she fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.
End of part 3
Copyright© 2012 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.