Taking Carol

Chapter I The New Neighbor

Carol Sizemore couldn't think of anything her part-time neighbor would want to
meet with her about. She had known that someone had purchased the house next
door six months earlier, but hadn't seen or met anyone associated with it since.
She had been satisfied to see the lawn care company keeping it well maintained
every Wednesday, and didn't much care whether anyone ever lived there.

It was odd to have a complete stranger call her and insist that they meet on
short notice, and the woman's demeanor was unsettling. It was as though she had
no doubt that Carol would agree, like she was taking Carol for granted. Carol
resented the woman's attitude but didn't object to visiting with her later that
evening. She didn't want to be rude by refusing the invitation.

When Carol asked what was so important that they had to meet so quickly, the
woman, who identified herself as "Karen, your new neighbor", breezily replied
that, "I'm just sure you will want to take a look at a few things I have for
you."

Carol had trouble concentrating on anything for the rest of the afternoon. Not
that she had a lot of brainwork to occupy her time. There was only a week of
school left where she taught high school math at the Naval Base in Mayport,
Florida. She finally put her mind at ease by concluding that the woman was
probably an Avon lady with a bad sales technique.

After a few laps in the pool Carol spoke briefly on the phone with her mother in
Ohio, then showered and dressed for the visit with her new neighbor. Carol
liked being on time and ended up waiting ten minutes before strolling across the
lawns to ring her neighbor's doorbell precisely at six o'clock.

She was a little put off that she was made to wait a couple of long minutes
before her neighbor finally opened the door. Carol was a forgiving person and
gave everyone the benefit of the doubt in almost every circumstance.

Karen was a bit taller than her, but seemed friendly enough. They were about
the same age, Carol judged. Karen looked to be a professional of some sort.
Carol thought of her as a lawyer for some reason. It might have had to do with
the fact that Karen looked very attractive and comfortable in the business suit
she was wearing. Carol assumed she had important plans for later in the
evening, and she felt a little embarrassed to be so underdressed in her white
shorts and red tank top.

Karen welcomed her into the home and motioned for her to proceed into the living
room, off to the left. She was surprised at how wonderfully appointed the home
was. An interior designer had obviously been give a liberal amount of freedom
in furnishing and decorating the place.

Carol sat rather nervously in an easy chair that seemed to be the place where
Karen wanted her to be. There was a brown envelope on the table between her and
the chair that Karen sat in. Karen crossed her legs and seemed to study Carol
for a few seconds before speaking; "I understand you're a school teacher?"

"Um, yes.", Carol replied, wondering how she knew anything about her. "I teach
high school on the base." She started to ask, "What about you?", but was cut
off.

"And you're only twenty eight. How do you stay in such good shape?" Karen
inquired rather intently, tossing her hair lightly over a shoulder.

Carol was ill at ease already. How could this stranger know her age and
profession? There must be some innocent explanation. "Oh. I, ah. Thank you!
I swim a lot, and run and do a little weight training too."

Karen was now looking Carol over in an entirely different way. It was as though
she was surveying her for flaws. Carol felt creepy in the pregnant silence
before Karen spoke again. "Carol, I wonder if you wouldn't mind standing up for
me? I'm very interested in hearing more about your workout program"...

Carol was lost. She started to stand, then thought better of it. "Who is she
to order me around?", she thought. Feeling foolish and not knowing whether to
sit back down or to stand all the way up, Carol hesitated.

Karen kept talking as though nothing unusual were occurring at all. "Do you
swim everyday?"

Carol slowly straightened until she was fully upright. "I, yes. Most
everyday."

Karen was resting her chin in her hand, studiously observing her guest. "You
have good tone. Turn around. You look like a swimmer, Carol."

Carol half formed the thought that she needed to get a handle on what was
happening, but started to follow instructions before she could consider how best
to react to circumstances she had never faced before. She thought the comment
was a compliment, but before she could say anything else her neighbor spoke
again.

"You could pass for twenty, Carol. Your butt is nice and firm and your
legs...those legs are quite nice.", Karen mentioned without enthusiasm. Carol
thought she had nothing on her attractive neighbor, who looked like she could
have been a model. She struggled to make all of this fit into some strange
sales pitch for some sort of Mary Kay cream or something, but couldn't. She was
very uncomfortable, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible warmth spreading
within her that was alarming. This was all wrong and none of it was right or
normal. Whatever it was. Her mind was racing. She had to say something.

"Uh. Thanks.", was all she could manage. She was facing away from Karen, not
sure what to do. She caught herself in the realization that she was waiting for
more instructions. Before she could react, Karen commented that her breasts
were of a nice size and appeared youthfully firm as well. Carol was taken aback
and drew in a deep breath to respond. Again, Karen spoke first.

"Turn and face me, Carol.", she ordered casually. It was as though she simply
expected it to happen. Karen was rising from her chair and folding her arms as
Carol turned toward her. Their eyes met. Carol could not match the icy blue
gaze that challenged her. She glanced quickly down toward her feet, feeling
silly and unsure what to do with her hands. She shook her head, trying to clear
the confusion away to regain her self control.

"Take the envelope from the table, Carol."

Carol looked down and to the left, seeing the manila envelope she had noticed
earlier. She stepped forward and took it, trying to sort out in her mind how to
break out of the bizarre situation she found herself in.

"There are things in that envelope that are very important to you right now.
Take it home and open it immediately." Karen's voice was controlled and
somewhat formal, as though she were instructing someone beneath her intellect
how to perform a simple task.

Carol hesitated, not sure if she should leave. The frustration boiled over
before she even realized it was coming. She looked directly at Karen and
angrily shouted, "Is it okay if I FUCKING LEAVE?" as tears formed in her eyes.
She stalked quickly toward the door and out into the yard without waiting for a
reply as her sobbing swelled into an uncontrollable avalanche of complicated
emotions.

Karen gently closed the door behind her with a wry smile on her lips. "That
went well.", she thought. She strode through the kitchen and into her enclosed
sunroom, taking the cordless phone off the wall and carrying it with her. She
kicked off her heels and tossed her jacket on a side table. The pastel yellow
leather couch was one of her favorite places to relax. She hadn't been home for
long, but it sure did feel like home compared to the places she'd been the last
nine months.

Chapter II Blackmailed

It seemed to take forever for Carol to make her way across the yard to her front
door. She felt like a blubbering fool and had not gained any better control
over her emotions by the time she made it home and had gotten to the liquor
cabinet. She didn't drink except for rare social occasions, but whatever had
just happened required something to help her sort things out. Plus, she had the
envelope to contend with. What could be in it?

She poured herself a scotch with shaking hands and drank it down quickly, then
poured another. She went into the guest bathroom and splashed cold water on her
face. She thought of the neighbor she had never seen before and how she had so
quickly and completely controlled her, even if for a very brief time. Carol
thought that she could have prevented it had she been prepared. She was simply
caught unaware. It wasn't a big deal, she told herself. That woman is some
kind of cop or something and she was just toying with me for whatever sick
reason. I'm home now. That won't happen again. "Turn around, Carol.", she
mocked out loud. She cringed, wondering if Megan had left yet. She quickly
made sure her daughter was gone, then took the envelope and the second glass of
scotch with her into the den. The sofa there was always a place of comfort to
her.

Carol took a deep breath, then a sip of the scotch. She wondered why she was so
wet. She was repulsed by the thought that a woman had made her horny. It had
to be something other than that. She blushed deeply, then tried to shake the
thought off.

With trembling fingers she slowly tore open the end of the envelope and pulled
the contents out. A slim microrecorder fell out onto the floor as she placed
the thin stack of papers on the table in front of her. The first document
consisted of printed mailing labels with the names and addresses of her mother,
her husband who was away on a military deployment, her minister, the principle
of the school where she taught, several of her fellow teachers at the school,
the chairwoman of the base noncommissioned officer's wives club, and even the
commanding officer of the base military police.

She nervously slid the page of labels aside to look down on an eight by ten
glossy photograph of her giving oral sex to Ralph Petersen, her secret lover
when her husband was gone on military deployments. It had to have been taken at
the motel where they had met just last week, but...Carol's heart felt like it
sank into a bottomless pit. The implications of the photograph in combination
with the labels hit her so hard that she simply froze. Thoughts of what would
happen to her life if the picture were mailed to the people on the list started
swirling through her mind in a nonsensical vortex of the most distressing
impressions imaginable.

She turned the photograph over, placing it on top of the labels. The only
remaining document was a white sheet of paper with a local phone number on it.
Carol knew it would ring next door. She looked down at the microrecorder on the
floor and correctly guessed that it contained audio recordings of her and Ralph
having sex in the motel room. After listening a portion of the tape, she shut
it off and sat in stunned silence.

The scotch was having a numbing effect on her but she needed more. She picked
up the glass and drank it slowly. If she worked hard at it, she could come
close to thinking through the problem rationally. She was obviously being
blackmailed, but for what, she did not know. She had no money or assets that
would attract anyone's attention. The audiotape existed to prevent her from
being able to claim the picture was somehow faked. As she finished the scotch
and began replacing all of the items in the envelope except for the phone
number, a sense of overwhelming shame overcame her. If not for her desire for
sexual excitement, this wouldn't have happened. It was her fault. All her
fault, and she would just have to deal with it the best that she could.

Carol f***ed herself not to think about how the picture or the recording could
have been made. She didn't want to think Ralph was somehow involved. He
wouldn't do something like that. But, someone knew, somehow, where they were
going to meet and what room it was going to be. She and Ralph were the only
ones who had that information. She took a deep breath and went quickly to the
kitchen to wash out the glass she had been drinking from. She hated clutter and
habitually cleaned or put things away when she was through with them.

She returned to the den, remembering what had happened at her neighbor's house
just a few minutes earlier. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she
was strangely excited by the memory. Every aspect of it repulsed her totally,
yet the heat that was growing between her legs contradicted her emotions and her
thoughts.

She gathered the envelope and the paper containing the phone number and took
them to the small office her husband had converted from a pantry for her. She
sat at the desk and slid the phone over until it was directly in front of her.
Taking another deep breath to help regain her composure, she slowly dialed the
number that had been provided to her.

Chapter III Karen Takes Control

Karen answered on the fourth ring as though she had no idea who might be calling
her. Poor Carol was so weak and confused, she could barely speak.

"What do you WANT from me?", Carol stammered angrily.

"Hmmm.", Karen replied. "Maybe we should start with your phone manners. You
may call back when you're ready to act like a big girl."

Click. The line went dead. Carol was stunned. Frantically, she dialed again.
After five maddeningly long rings, Karen answered again. "Hello?"

"I, ah, I'm sorry. I mean, about how I spoke. Ah. Could you please tell me
what this is, what this is all about?"

"Poor Carol. She grew up to be thirty eight years old and never learned how to
be polite on the telephone." Karen replaced the handset on the phone, smiling
quietly to herself. This was her kind of fun.

Carol slammed the phone down and quickly made her way to the scotch. Skipping
the formality of pouring a glass, she took a long swallow straight out of the
bottle. Replacing the cap, she carried the bottle back to where she had been
sitting and took a deep breath as the warm glow she had felt earlier between her
legs began to intermingle with the numbness caused by the scotch and the anger
she was barely managing to control. She sat down and dialed again.

Six rings later, Karen answered calmly. "Hello?"

Carol concentrated on speaking evenly, trying to keep her jumbled emotions
beneath the surface for just a few seconds. "Hello. May I speak with Karen,
please?"

"Perhaps,", Karen answered, "may I ask who is calling?"

Flabbergasted, Carol took a breath and answered calmly. "Carol?"

"Oh? Carol who?", Karen inquired, tormenting her poor victim and enjoying every
minute of the little game she was playing.

"Uh. Carol Sizemore?"

"Oh! Carol! I thought it was you. This is Karen. What can I do for you?"
She was quite the actress, sounding as though none of the earlier conversation
had taken place.

"Uh. I. You gave me this envelope and I assumed you wanted me to call this
number. I mean, what is all this..."

Karen interrrupted, "I don't like it when you call me "you". I would like you
to call me "Miss Karen"."

"Why would I call you "Miss Karen"?", Carol shouted into the phone.

Karen hung up and stood, stretching leisurely before ambling to the kitchen for
a tall glass of icewater. The phone started ringing almost immediately. She
disregarded it as she sipped the water, looking out the kitchen window toward
the pool and the beautifully landscaped back yard that surrounded it. This was
going to be a fun break, she thought to herself.

After more than thirty rings, Carol had apparently given up. Looking at her
watch, Karen anticipated hearing the doorbell ring in less than sixty seconds.
She wasn't surprised when it took only thirty seconds for Carol to return to the
front door. She was both ringing the doorbell incessantly and pounding on the
door. Karen listened, waiting for the surge of anger to play itself out on the
doorstep. She couldn't make too much of a scene in the front yard, but Karen
could hear her sobbing after a few seconds of futility had passed. The pounding
had transformed itself into a polite knock in short order. Karen was pleased.
She pulled her heels back on, stood, put her jacket on, thenstrode to the entry
foyer and slowly opened the door.

Smiling broadly, she exclaimed, "Why Carol! How nice of you to stop by!
Please! Come in!". Carol looked disheveled and worn down. Her nostrils had a
cute way of flaring between breaths and her erect nipples were did not go
unnoticed. Karen really appreciated her complexion. Her skin was nearly
flawless.

Carol stepped into the evil woman's house once more, the memory of the
humiliation she had suffered there just a few minutes earlier fresh on her mind.
"Have you calmed down a bit, Carol? Or do we need to send you back home for
more booze?", Karen asked in an even voice.

How did she know?, Carol thought. Maybe she smelled it on her breath. Carol
realized how exhausted she felt. Her life as she knew it was in jeopardy, and
she had to find out why. She knew she couldn't do that if she kept behaving
aggressively. She could not look Karen directly in the eye without fear of
giving herself away, so she looked momentarily at her own feet and replied
breathlessly, "No, ah...Miss Karen. I am calm now."

"Very good, Carol. Now, just run back over to your house and retrieve that
envelope and bring it to me. You have thirty seconds." Karen glanced at her
watch to take note of where the second hand was.

Carol looked at her quizzically, then realized she was serious. Bolting through
the open door, she sprinted across the yards to her house and quickly returned
with the envelope and it's contents. As she crossed her neigbor's threshold,
Karen called out "Twenty seven. Not bad!", and pushed the entry door closed.
She took the envelope from Carol's hand and quickly looked inside to make sure
all of it's contents were enclosed before tossing it onto a side table.

It was a particularly hot, humid day. Carol's exertion, though short in
duration, had caused her to begin to sweat profusely. Her nerves were not
helping matters any, and she stood, dripping and panting, on Karen's tile floor.
She blinked her eyes rapidly as sweat poured into them. Her tank top was
clinging to her heaving breasts, and her prominent nipples were pushing through
the damp fabric so intently that it seemed they wanted to burst through.

Karen had noticed during the first visit that Carol had been braless, and was
delighted now that it had become shamefully obvious. Such a hussy!

Karen circled her prey slowly, studying Carol more closely as the poor thing
tried to catch her breath and begin to regain her dignity. It was not to be,
though. Karen took who she chose, and dignity was never a concern. She spoke
casually, her heels clicking softly on the tile in a perfect rhythym.

"You are to be commended for two things, I think. The first is that you chose
to be a whore for the only black United States Marine who was ever named Ralph.
The second is that you were so damned sloppy about it that anyone could have
easily compromised you."

Carol started to blurt something out, but was slapped hard across her face. She
immediately went to pieces and continued sobbing.

Karen looked at the palm of her hand, satisfied that she had actually hurt it on
the slut's face. She didn't need to wonder what Carol felt as she watched her
collapse to her knees. She continued her circular stroll, delivering her brutal
monologue.

"Other than that, you really are a reprehensible, weak, and completely worthless
human being, Carol. It must have been a sinful thrill to feel that big black
cock sliding in and out of your holes while everyone you knew thought you were
being true to them." Karen sighed for effect, then continued. "Talk about
betrayal! Just think what would happen if all of your friends, f****y, and
coworkers knew! And the Marine Corps! They'd throw poor Ralphie's career into
the toilet so fast he wouldn't know what happened." She paused briefly to
ensure that Carol was listening. "Of course, you'd never teach high school
again. We know that, don't we slut?"

Carol was stunned but managed to utter a "yes".
Karen noted with satisfaction that the anger she knew Carol could conjure up was
well buried by now. "Yes? Do I need to slap you again to remind you of your
manners Carol?"

Her mind was trailing out over the imaginings of her husband's reaction to her
indiscretions. He would drop her like a rock and never look back.

"Uh. Yes, Miss. Uh. Miss Karen."

"I really don't like you, Carol. I especially don't like you dripping on my
nice floor like you are. My suggestion is that you ask permission to get a
towel to dry it off."

Her mother would just die. Her heart would break and she would just die.

"Miss Karen, may I get a towel and dry this floor off?"

"Hmmm," Karen replied. "I suppose. The guest bathroom is behind you. Get a
towel out of the closet."

Carol turned to look behind her, then slowly rose, feeling her knees shaking.
She was completely defeated. As she entered the bathroom Karen called out from
the foyer, "I just don't think you could move any slower, could you?".

Carol quickened her movements and found a towel. Returning to the immediate
presence of her tormenter was frightening. She had always had a fear of being
hit or slapped, and practically flinched in anticipation of another strike. She
stole a quick glance at Karen and was shocked to be smiled at. It was as
unsettling as anything that had happened so far, and she felt the tears well up
in her eyes once again. Carol knelt and swirled the towel around a few times
until the floor was completely dry.

"Now, ,spread the towel out neatly on the floor and stand on it.", Karen
ordered.

Carol followed the instructions, so fearful and so confused. She thought of her
life in a shambles. No husband, no career, no lover, nothing. Not even a
mother who cared anymore.

Karen began circling again. "You have quite a problem, Carol. You see, I have
unique tastes. I also have unique friends who help me to indulge my tastes. I
am taking a hiatus from a rather unusual profession. During such times I like
to find a few people to toy with to keep me occupiied and to keep my skills
sharp. This time, I have taken you, Carol. You belong to me now. I own you.
I own you. I will train you, I will use you, and I will abuse you. If, at the
end of my little break, I am satisfied with you, well, then you might get your
life back. If I am not satisfied with you a number of things could happen. It
is conceivable that you could simply disappear, never to be seen again. It is
conceivable that you could be shipped off somewhere to lead a quite miserable
life. It is conceivable that you could be left here to deal with the
ramifications of your sordid past. It's all up to me. Is there any part of
this that your little whore brain doesn't understand?"

Carol swallowed. Her lips were dry. "Uh. No, Miss Karen."

Karen stopped directly in front of her. She lifted Carol's chin until she made
eye contact. Gazing intently into Carol's deep brown eyes, she whispered,
"What's it like to be a piece of property?", then turned toward the entry door.
"I'm going to explore my neighbor's old house now, slut. Follow me. Two paces
behind, and not a peep out of you."

Carol followed quietly across their front yards, amazed at how well Karen could
walk in grass with heels on. Her calves were well defined and her legs were
taught and shapely. Carol knew she was in good shape by her posture and the way
she carried herself. She wondered as they neared her door how she could be
thinking about Karen's legs under such bizarre circumstances.

IV Taking Possession

Karen walked happily through her neighbor's front door as though she owned the
place. She turned in time to watch Carol pass through the door and close it
behind her. She looked so very pitiful. Like a frightened doe. "Lock it.",
Karen ordered.

After Carol turned the latch Karen told her to get a box of garbage bags. While
retrieving them from the kitchen Carol poured herself a glass of water and drank
it down quickly before taking the bags to Karen. She tried to hand the box to
Karen, but she wouldn't take them. After an awkward pause, Karen told her to
put the box on the floor.

Karen slid her jacket off and tossed it onto a wingback chair. "Take one bag
out and put those nasty, sweaty clothes in it Carol. You may place your shoes
over by the door for now."

Carol looked up at her with incredulity. Did she mean? "Uh. You want..."

"I want what I said I want. Are you sure you're educated beyond the third
grade?", Karen answered in a sarcastic tone as she folded her arms across her
chest.

The tears came quickly again as Carol bent to untie the laces on her canvas
tennies. She had to do what she had to do, but there was that odd,
contradictory glow beginning to rise from deep within her. It was most similar
to how she felt when she was on her knees in front of Ralph, ready to take him
into her mouth. She realized she was becoming horny before she even had her
shoes off. She felt her nipples hardening and her pussy becoming moist again,
and felt so completely repulsed by, and drawn into, the situation at the same
time.

She placed her shoes in their assigned spot and stood to push her shorts down
while her back was turned to Karen.

"I don't think so, slut. Over here!" Karen was pointing at the floor a short
distance in front of her.

Carol padded over to where the finger pointed, never daring to look up. Her
tears were flowing freely now. She slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her
shorts and pushed them down to her ankles, leaving her panties on. She stepped
out of them and placed them into the bag she had gotten out of the box. Next
she stood up straight and pulled the tank top quickly over her head, placing it
in the bag. She covered her breasts as best she could and stood motionless,
unable to continue, hoping she would be spared complete nakedness.

Karen's voice was a bit more sympathetic this time. "Isn't my little slut such
a shy thing, though?" Karen crouched down onto her haunches to get a good view
of Carol's cotton briefs. "Oh, you poor thing. You are simply dripping with
excitement! Look at that spot!"

Carol gasped in embarassment and immediately broke down again, sobbing
uncontrollably. This was not necessarily rectified by the brutal slap she
received, but Karen did have her undivided attention once again, as well as her
compliance.

"Put those nasty panties in the bag, Carol.", Karen calmly ordered.

This time, Carol wasted no time stripping them off and stuffing them in the bag.
Now she tried to cover her breasts with her right arm and hand and her pussy
with her left hand.

Karen sighed heavily. "My patience is being tried, and I know that your
stupidity is going to be a problem. Would you like me to give up on you now,
Carol?"

"Nnnno, Miss Karen", Carol sobbed as she slowly moved her hands to her sides.

"Good. Now you're naked. You'll be naked a lot in your new life, so get used
to it. I'm going to sit down while you fetch me a nice drink and bring me all
of your cameras. Don't forget your video camera, Carol."

"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol replied shakily. "Wha...What would you like to
drink?"

"Oh, that's another thing. You have so much to learn. Never use "you" if you
are referring to me. Use "Mistress". Let's try that question again now -
properly."

"Uh, what would Mistress like to drink?"

"Very good, pet,", Karen said soothingly as she rubbed her calves. "I'd like a
single malt scotch."

Carol turned to fulfill her tasks, dwelling on Karen's use of "pet". What did
that mean? She was so confused. Her pussy and nipples were still betraying
her, and she was grateful to be out of sight if only for a couple of minutes.
She went to her bar first and poured the scotch, quickly delivering it to
Karen. She wasn't immediately sure where the video camera was and had to do
some searching to come up with it. She had no idea why she had been ordered to
gather up her cameras, but it didn't really matter. She was in a blur of
chaotic thoughts blanketed by that deep and penetrating fear that arises when
one's security is in the balance. That woman was frightening, and Carol knew of
nothing she could do about it except to do what she was told.

Karen had slipped her heels off and was massaging her feet when her toy returned
with her arms full of cameras. Carol was standing in front of her, completely
clueless as to what to do. "When you return after completing a task you should
quietly announce..." she paused for a sip of scotch. "...the results and
present yourself to me. Now go out and come back in correctly."

"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol replied. She spun and strode quickly out of the room.
On her return, she said in a soft voice, "I have my cameras Miss Karen."

"Your slut has brought the cameras Mistress wanted.", Karen replied mockingly.

"Your slut has brought the cameras Mistress wanted.", Carol repeated.

"Put them on the floor.", Karen ordered, gesturing toward the hardwood floor
immediately in front of her. "Now present yourself."

Carol didn't know what that meant, so she put her body in a position of
attention, as though she were in the military. Karen leaned back in the chair,
regarding the still shaking victim of her torments. "Nice try. Whenever you
return from a task, and whenever I have no orders for you, you will maintain
yourself in a very nice position that enables me to enjoy a good view of you as
well as full access."

She leaned forward slowly, resting her elbows on her knees. "First, you'll
clasp your hands together by interlacing your fingers at the back of your neck.
This will help to elevate your breasts so that I can enjoy those freaky nipples
of yours."

Carol blushed heavily as she joined her hands behind her neck.

"Push your elbows back until they are in line with your body. That's it. Now
spread your feet at least wide enough to be outside of your elbows. If I
dropped a string down from your elbows, it would fall inside of your feet.
Good." Karen smiled quickly, pleased but not surprised at how compliant the
bitch had become.

Carol's blush seemed never to end, and it took her breath away as it heightened.
The stirrings between her legs had grown into outright demands and her nipples
had grown harder than she had ever seen them. Her chest began to heave and
perspiration formed on her forehead and upper lip. The position was not a
strain at all, but being so openly displayed in front of another woman was
completely alien to her. Karen had picked up her husband's Polaroid and was
checking to see if it had film in it. Carol closed her eyes as Karen focused
it on her.

"Eyes up, slut. Smile pretty now." FLASH.

Karen set the Polaroid down as it was spitting out the undeveloped shot and
picked up Carol's cheap 35mm automatic camera. It had a bit of film left in it
after Carol had used it to photograph her husband's promotion ceremony earlier
in the month. She turned it on and waited for the flash to warm up. "This time
you'll cup your breasts for me, like you're really proud of them."

Carol moved her hands to do as she was told, cupping each breast from underneath
and lifting them up slightly. She wished she could squeeze her nipples as they
were begging her for attention. She felt moisure beginning to flood her pussy
and knew it would be dripping down her thigh soon. When Karen told her to smile
again, she was actually able to form one this time. She thought it might even
have had some hint of her hunger in it. She became briefly angry with herself
that her body was giving itself over to this sick, sadistic situation she was
in. FLASH.

Karen put her through a range of poses, all intended to make her appear to be
the wanton slut she was beginning to feel like. The worst one (or was it the
best one?) was when she had to turn away on all fours and spread her legs while
arching her back. Karen ordered her to "purr like a kitty" as she took the last
few pictures to finish out the roll.

While she was still on her hands and knees, Karen stood and told her to crawl to
her bedroom. Carol felt herself so far beyond the edge of desire that her fear
was beginning to fade. She crawled down the hallway and into the large master
bedroom at the far end of the house. Karen picked up the box of garbage bags
and followed, leaving her heels and the cameras back at the entry area.

The slut had certainly gotten horny, Karen knew. Her juices had flowed all the
way down her inner thighs to the floor. Her entire body was alive with desire,
and it was quite an alluring sight to see her skin glistening in the dim light
as she crawled slowly down that long hallway. Karen was tempted to make use of
her right there on the floor, but she had an agenda and intended to follow it.
Self discipline was more than just a f****y trait, it was also a necessity of
her profession.

Karen made her stand and assume the "present" position against a wall next to
the dresser. She took a garbage bag out and tossed the box on the bed. She
handed the bag to Carol and told her to hold it open, then slid open the first
dresser drawer. It was Carol's lingerie drawer, containing dozens of panties
and bras. Karen quickly tossed all of the bras into the bag, then began looking
at each pair of painties in turn. Some she would discard into the bag and some
she piled on top of the dresser. Most of those remaining on the dresser were
thongs or bikinis. All of her briefs had been relegated to the bag.

Carol looked on in fearful amazement as the woman went through her most intimate
things as though they were mere rags. It was not easy to remain quiet, and she
really didn't understand at all why this was happening. She was simply being
ignored, or rather, simply being used as a tool to hold the bag open.

Karen went through all of the remaining drawers in quick succession. She dumped
all of the slut's husband's clothes out onto the floor in one big heap, but
carefully considered everything that belonged to Carol before either piling it
on the dresser or putting it in the bag. By the time she was through, Carol's
arms were getting tired.

Karen moved quickly across the room and began going through the closet. "Get
another bag and come over here.", she said flatly.

Carol placed the bag down next to her husband's clothes and pulled another out
of the box on the bed. "May I ask, ah. May I ask Miss Karen a question
please?" Her voice was faltering, as though she had absolutely no confidence in
anything.

Karen didn't answer. She had heard the question, but wasn't wasting her time.
She had no use for questions other than her own.

Carol stepped closer and assumed the same position she had held over by the
dresser. She spread her legs the required distance and held the bag out. It
was soon being filled with some of her favorite suits, dresses, skirts, pants,
blouses, and shirts. Not much was kept, other than what was obviously revealing
or tight fitting. By the time Karen was finished with the hanging items, she
had filled three bags.

Next she went through all of the shoes in the closet, only keeping some workout
and running shoes as well as everything with heels over three inches. She threw
the rejects out of the closet onto the floor, telling Carol to put them in a
bag. She told Carol to put on a pair of sandals with five inch heels that she
had found gathering dust in the corner of the closet. Karen then moved past her
while she was still picking up shoes and went to the nightstand beside the bed.
Carol's heart filled with dread when she looked up to see Karen opening the
nightstand drawer.

"Hmmm. What have we here?", Karen asked gleefully. Without waiting for a
reply, she pulled Anne Rice's Beauty Trilogy out of the drawer and tossed all
three copies on the bed. "No wonder the little slut has been so compliant",
Karen thought, "She's probably always dreamed of something like this happening
to her".

Then, she pulled Carol's vibrator and dildo out. The vibrator was a simple,
battery operated one of eight or nine inches in length. The dildo, however, was
something entirely different. It was a very large, very realistic
representation of a well hung black man's penis and balls. "It doesn't take a
genius to figure out who you're thinking of with this thing inside you, does
it?", Karen asked in what seemed to be a good humor.

Carol was so very humiliated. "No, Miss Karen.", she replied sullenly as she
tightened the straps on her "honeymoon" sandals. She quickly finished bagging
the shoes and stood unsteadily in the sandals. She placed herself in the
"present" position where she stood, having a little trouble keeping her ankles
steady.

Karen wouldn't have chosen her if she hadn't been quite attractive to start
with, but seeing her in heels reinf***ed Karen's belief that she could be made
into an exceptionally sexy slut. "Go get my scotch and the cameras.", Karen
ordered curtly. She smiled with satisfaction as she watched her victim turn and
leave the bedroom.

After Carol had delivered the scotch and cameras, Karen ordered her to take all
of the filled garbage bags to the garage. She was feeling a bit of a buzz by
then, and downed the remainder of the scotch in one gulp. She checked out the
video camera and got it ready to film just as Carol was returning from her last
trip to the garage. Before Carol could assume her proper position, Karen told
her to get a fresh razor, shaving cream, and a damp washcloth out of the master
bathroom.

When Carol returned, Karen motioned her toward the bed. Karen moved down so that
she was between the dresser and the foot of the bed, and turned the video
camera on. "Turn and face me, slut. Good. Now lay back on the bed and lift
your knees. That's it, spread them wider. There's no need for any modesty now
that we know what a whore you are."

She noted with satisfaction that the slut's blush showed nicely through the
digital video camera's viewfinder. She did as she was told, though, and must
have known what was to come. Karen zoomed in for a closeup of her face. There
was as much unmitigated desire in her expression as there was fear. "Have you
ever shaved your pussy, slut?"

Carol's perfect eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Um. No, Miss Karen. Please
don't ma..."

"Shut up!", Karen snapped. "You can either sit up for another slap or make that
pussy smooth!"

Carol had been growing more accustomed to being naked in front of the woman, but
this was such an alien mix of sheer terror and unregulated excitement that she
could do nothing but what she was told. She lie on her back now, with her knees
held up and widely apart, wantonly displaying her wet pussy for her mistress.

Slowly, Carol spread the shaving cream over her pussy and began shaving.

Still filming, Karen began to question her. "You seem to be surrounded by a few
things that came out of your nightstand, Carol. What are they?"

"Oh, God.", Carol thought. "She's not going to make me do this...to talk about
my things." But, she found herself responding, if haltingly.

"Um. My...", her face wrinkled up in the cutest way when she realized her
mistake. "Sorry. Miss Karen found this slut's books, her vibrator, and her
dildo."

"I see. What are the books? What are they about?"

Carol was just beginning to pull the razor up on either side of her pussy,
carefully smoothing the skin with her left hand as she shaved with her right.
"They are a trilogy about some people who are captured and used as, as sexual
slaves, Miss Karen."

"Uh huh. And you have these books in your nightstand because...why?", the
interviewer inquired.

"Ah, because they make this slut horny, Miss Karen.", Carol replied, using the
washcloth to wipe the razor off before starting in on the well trimmed little
triangle that remained above her pussy.

"And are you horny now, slut?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Karen.", Carol breathed heavily.

"What about that big black dildo, slut?"

"It's, ah. It's what I, I mean, it's this slut's dildo. She uses it to fuck
herself, Miss Karen."

"Oh? Where do you fuck yourself with that thing, slut?"

"In my pussy, Miss Karen.", Carol sighed, pulling the razor up for the last time
before wiping herself dry. She looked down to see herself completely smooth,
like the porno stars she and Ralph liked to watch before making love.

"But that's not correct, slut. You don't have a pussy. I have a pussy. You
have a cunt. Tell me again where you fuck yourself with that monster."

Carol had placed the razor and washcloth off to the side, but stayed in position
out of fear of displeasing Karen one too many times. The thought flashed
through her mind that she was thinking less of the ramifications of failing to
satisfy Karen than she was of the desire that she was barely able to contain.

"This slut fucks herself in her cunt, Miss Karen."

"I'll just bet you do! I'll bet you'd just love to show me how you can suck on
that thing, wouldn't you?" Karen was getting even more turned on playing out
her twisted interrogation. The footage would be useful once it was digitally
edited. Her new toy's motor was certainly running.

"Uh. Yes, Miss Karen." Carol reached behind her head until she grasped the
dildo and raised it up so that it was pointing down toward her mouth. It made
for a great closeup as Karen zoomed in. The slut licked her lips several times
before bringing the tip of the huge dildo lower toward her mouth.

"Before you begin, I will permit you to touch yourself while you suck it for me,
but I do expect to hear plenty of moaning out of you, slut."

Wordlessly, Carol slid her right hand down between her legs and placed her
middle finger gently over her clitoris. Her eyes closed softly as she bagan
little circular motions with her fingertip as the dildo was brought down into
contact with her lips. She opened her lips widely to accommodate it, but could
not take in much more than the first three or four inches because it was so
thick. She began breathing even more loudly, and groaned deeply as her little
bud hardened and pushed outward toward her juice slickened finger.

This was what Karen needed. There was no doubt the slut was operating of her
own free will. "Oh, by the way, you are not permitted to cum without
permission, so be careful to avoid angering me. slut."

"Yes Miss Karen!", Carol answered a bit too enthusiastically. She was quickly
reaching a crecendo, and knew that it was obvious. She was swirling her tongue
around the head of the dildo, just the way Ralph loved for her to do to him.
Her finger was alternately pushing, circling, and tapping on her rigid clit as
her juices flowed freely down onto her satin bedspread. She could think of
nothing but how hot she felt and how badly she wanted to cum.

Karen stopped filming with the video camera and reached for the digital still
camera. She took two or three quick shots using the flash from across the room
before returning to the area at the base of the bed. There was a dark spot on
the bedspread underneath the slut. She was possibly the wettest bitch Karen had
ever seen. That was not a bad thing. Things seemed to be getting very close,
and Karen did not want the slut to cum.

"Stop!", she shouted, loud enough to startle Carol. Carol froze, but
reluctantly. She wanted it badly, as badly as she ever had in her life.

"On your feet!", Karen ordered, pointing to the side of the bed.

Carol dropped the dildo and quickly stood, assuming the position as she had been
taught. She felt her juices flowing down both inner thighs. The sandals
certainly hadn't gotten any more comfortable in the brief time she had been
shaving and tormenting herself on the bed.

Karen then told her to get down on her hands and knees and to give her a "little
tour" of the house. Karen took it all in as though she were considering buying
the place. Carol had few chances to look up at her. When she did, she could see
that her neighbor was doing a lot of thinking. With the slut crawling in front
of her, Karen looked over every inch of the place, including the spacious two
stall garage. She had retrieved a good length of cotton clothesline in the
garage and a pair of scissors out of Carol's home office, as well as a bag of
spring-type clothespins from the laundry room. Carol loved to hang her laundry
out in the fresh air.

Karen directed her onto the deck that adjoined the back of the house and
overlooked the back yard. Carol was very nervous and felt so exposed as she
crawled through the sliding glass door onto the deck. She had forgotten how
oppressively hot it was outside.

It was still a couple of hours before the late spring sunset. Like all of the
homes in the area, this one featured a high stucco wall surrounding the well
maintained back yard. There was a nice lap pool and a small poolhouse as well
as a barbecue area with a built-in brick grill. None of the homes were more
than a single story, so the back yards afforded a great deal of privacy and some
sense of seclusion, although noise could be a problem at times.

Karen briefly left her on her hands and knees as she quickly strode over to
check something out at the poolhouse. Carol watched her walk away with a lust
that she had never known for another woman. She considered herself completely
straight, but what was going on here was something totally beyond her wildest
dreams, or nightmares. She was still fearful, but so very, very horny.

Karen motioned for her to come to the pool house. She crawled down the two
stairs and across a portion of lawn quickly enough, she thought. But, Karen
grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her mercilessly to her feet.
Whispering with an unmistakable intensity, Karen said, "You need some fresh air
and some time to think about things. I am going to secure you here until I have
a use for you."

With that, she pulled Carol's hands behind her back and expertly bound her
wrists together with a length of the clothesline. Out of Carol's view she
fashioned a noose and tossed it up over a beam on the pool house's extended roof
overhang. She pulled the noose end down over Carol's head and seated it firmly
up under her jaw line. She pulled the rope taught and tied it back to itself.
She cut a third length of about three feet and wrapped it around the slut's
knees, binding them tightly together. She stepped back to admire her work.

Carol looked thoroughly terrified, although her nipples were certainly erect and
her juices seemed to be flowing even more freely out of her smooth cunt. She
simply didn't know what was happening. She was being held perfectly erect by
the rope around her neck and would likely die if she lost her balance and fell
off her sandals. She was completely helpless. It was perfect, Karen thought.

Carol watched intently as her captor raised her skirt a bit and reached up under
it to tug down her panties. She pushed them down over her knees until they
dropped, then stepped out of them. Carol was amazed at how poised she always
seemed to be, even when she was stepping out of her panties it was as though it
was a perfectly normal circumstance. It was when Miss Karen picked the panties
up and began balling them up in her hands that Carol began to understand the
implication. She did not fight it, and opened her mouth willingly to allow her
mistress to stuff the wet panties deeply enough to effectively gag her. Carol
swooned at the wonderful fragrance and taste of this strange, frightening woman
who had stolen her from the world.

Karen placed a section of the clothesline between the slut's open lips and
pulled the ends tightly around to the back of her neck where she tied them in a
knot. This f***ed her panties even further back and guaranteed that they
couldn't be expelled. Next Karen pulled four of the clothespins from the bag
and showed them to her victim. The poor, weak school teacher shook her head
vigorously when Karen began to playfully squeeze one open and let it snap
closed. She did this several times before growing bored of the little game.
She gently grazed the long nail on the end of her index finger against the
underside of the slut's right nipple. It was the first time she had touched
Carol in any way other than slapping her or yanking her hair. Despite the heat,
she could see the goosebumps rise on the slut's skin.

"My God,", Karen whispered seductively. "your nipples are simply obscene! Look
at how long they are!" Karen was delighted. She had no idea they could have
grown any larger.

Carol had always been self conscious of her nipples, particularly when she was
fully aroused. They were prominent enough when it was simply cold or she was
mildly excited, but Miss Karen was right, they were obscene when completely
hard. She had measured them once, and knew them to be a full inch long when
they were like this.

All kinds of possibilities were passing through Karen's mind, but for now she
simply needed to manipulate the other nipple to an equal length. She had plans
for them. She grasped and twisted the left nipple, causing Carol to gasp
audibly. It had the desired effect, and she stepped back momentarily to
appreciate the long shadow the nipples cast across her new toy's full breasts in
the early evening sunlight.

It was a small thrill for Karen to finally place the clothespins on the slut's
engorged nipples. Carol winced as each clamped down, but seemed willing to at
least try to bear up. Before she got adjusted to the pain, she felt Karen
sliding a finger deeply along the cleft of her pussy, scr****g across her still
rigid clitoris on it's way out. Karen brought the finger to her nose, sniffed
lightly, then wiped it off on Carol's lips. She quickly knelt down to clamp a
clothespin on each of the slut's outer lips before rising to double check all of
her knots to ensure Carol stayed in place until such time as she chose to do
something with her.

"I'm going to be busy for a while. I'll check on you periodically. Use this
time to concentrate on what kind of a slave you are going to be. I have use for
you only so long as you make me happy, and can do without any drama. You are
property now, and your life is going to be very different. Get adjusted to it.
If you don't think you can, I would suggest you simply fall over and hang
yourself. Do you understand me, slut?" Karen looked intently into the
teacher's eyes.

Carol nodded slowly, not doubting a single word. She could do nothing but look
longingly after Miss Karen as she strode confidently back into the house.

V. Transition

Karen made a mental note to check on the slut every half hour. She would need
to be watered periodically to keep from wilting. She had enjoyed her time
getting the stupid bitch under control and was well satisfied with the progress
so far.

It had already been a long day for her, considering that she had just driven in
that morning from a debriefing in Arlington, Virginia the night before. She
decided to go back to her home and regroup. After a quick search she found the
slut's house keys. She put her heels back on and picked up her jacket. Locking
the door behind her, she made her way across the yard to her home. After a
quick shower she got dressed in some workout clothes and put her supplies in
her gymbag before heading back over for more fun.

Back in the slut's house, she poured herself another scotch before going into
the garage and loading all of the discarded clothes into the trunk of the slut's
Toyota. She had noted earlier that the car was fairly new and didn't exhibit
any identifying marks such as custom paint, wheels or bumper stickers that would
make it recognizeable. Next she went to the office and looked for anything that
would be of use to her. She searched through the slut's purse and wallet,
taking IDs, credit cards, and cash before dumping everything else in the trash
can.

She found the number of a 24 hour a day locksmith in the yellow pages and called
in a work order to have the locks rekeyed on the entry door and the side door to
the garage. She used the slut's name.

Finding a couple of brown paper shopping bags under the kitchen sink, she took
them to the bedroom and placed all of the slut's remaining clothes in them
before dropping them on the garage floor. She double checked to make sure no
clothing of any kind remained in the bedroom, and returned the vibrator, dildo,
and books to the nightstand drawer. Karen took the razor and shaving cream back
to the master bathroom and disposed of the washcloth.

Next, she opened her gymbag and began installing the surveillance equipment the
agency had asked her to test. It was all cordless, nearly undetectable, and was
supposed to proved better clarity than anything previously available. She
installed video throughout the house and emplaced audio bugs on her phones. She
was also testing a new software program that tracked activity and broadcast it
to a remote location. What was left in the bag when she finished was the
tracking and "body" audio she would make use of in the morning. She turned the
TV on in the bedroom and quickly returned to her home to verify that the monitor
and recording bank were picking everything up. Seeing that all was well, she
returned next door.

It was time to check on the slut.

Carol had experienced a great deal of difficulty in controlling her thinking
since being left bound as she was in the hot sun. Her feet had long since gone
numb, as had her nipples. The clothespins on her pussy were especially
annoying. She couldn't look down at them because the noose wouldn't allow it,
and simply found herself watching the clouds float lazily by while torrents of
jumbled thoughts continued to rush through her consciousness. She had no clue
how much time had passed, but was so very relieved to see Miss Karen returning
through the sliding door.

She had changed into a short pair of bike shorts and a loose t-shirt, and looked
even prettier than she had in the suit. She even smiled warmly as she
approached.

"Thirsty?" she asked enthusiastically.

Carol nodded as another rivulet of sweat ran through her brow and into her left
eye. Karen playfully wiped some of the sweat off her forehead before holding
the glass up to Carol's lips. With the panties pressed so firmly toward the
back of her mouth, there was no chance of her being able to take a drink. She
soon realized that Karen only intended to saturate the panties, allowing Carol
to at least get some moisture through them. It took a few minutes for the
entire glass to be fully absorbed and sucked through the panties.

Before returning to the house, Karen dragged a finger gently upward along
Carol's slit to verify that she was still wet. She sc****d a fingernail along
the underside of her clit, eliciting an involuntary spasm before holding her
fingers up to see them glisten in the slowly dwindling light of that Sunday
evening in June. This time, Karen brought it to her lips for an experimental
first taste. "Mmmmm.", she coo'd melodramatically.

Karen returned quickly to the house and stripped the slut's bed, throwing all of
the bedding in the laundry room. She went to the kitchen and made herself a
nice salad to eat while she waited for the locksmith to arrive. Just as she was
finishing up, the doorbell rang. Playing the part of the homeowner, Karen
directed the man to change out the entry and garage door locks. She watched TV
while he worked. When he was finished, she paid him in the cash she had taken
from the slut's purse, tipping him ten dollars for his trouble. He seemed very
happy before she sent him off on his merry way. Karen took the receipt he had
given her and placed it in her bag for safekeeping. It would be of use later.

She quickly returned to her suffering captive and asked if she was ready to obey
her orders.

Of course Carol nodded "yes". She had lost all feeling in her feet and had
begun wondering how long she could stand there without losing her balance and
being choked by the noose. It seemed like she had been there forever, although
she knew it was probably less than two hours. The sun was just then sinking
behind the trees at the back of her yard, casting long shadows and bringing a
bit of relief from the heat.

Karen decided to take the clothespins off the bitch while she was still gagged.
She reached down to pinch and twist that lovely little clit just to ensure the
slut was feeling more than a little conflicted when she removed the clothespins.
Her pussy was still satisfactorily wet, which was a good thing. She removed and
dropped the clothespins that she had attached to Carol's pussy, then reached up
to simultaneously unclasp the clothespins from her engorged nipples.

Carol was relieved when the pins were taken off her pussy. They had been
annoying, like a scratch she couldn't itch. The pins on her nipples were
different, however. Carol first winced, then screamed into her gag as the bl**d
pulsed back into her nipples, arousing raw nerve endings and lighting Carol up
as she had never been before. She thought she understood what it would feel
like to have red hot pokers applied to her nipples, they hurt so much. Through
her tear and sweat-streaked eyes she saw Miss Karen smiling delightedly at her.

"Isn't this fun?", she cooed.

As the pain was slowly fading into something tolerable, Carol noted with relief
that Miss Karen was untying the knot that had secured the noose to the
poolhouse. She pulled the loose rope over Carol's shoulder and took hold of it
as though it were a leash.

"Come now, my slut. Time for a walk.", Karen ordered casually.

As Carol tried to awkwardly comply, it felt as though a thousand needles were
being pressed into the bottom of her feet. She had never spent much time in
heels and wasn't accustomed to them, especially under circumstances where she
had to stand in them for so long without being able to move. Her knees were
still tied together, causing her to have to splay out her feet in order to take
small steps. She felt so clumsy as Miss Karen led her slowly along the side of
the pool toward the small area of lawn Carol and her husband maintained at the
rear portion of the yard. She was grateful to be moving, but still fearful and
confused as to what might happen next.

Karen carefully led her new pet to the center of the grassy part of the back
yard and turned her to face the house. Leaning in so close that her lips
brushed against the slut's ear, Karen whispered softly, "Are you ready to begin
learning some of your new rules?"

Carol nodded eagerly. Anything to avoid being slapped or having the clothespins
put back on her nipples. She tried through the gag to say "Yes, Mistress.", but
it came out as an unintelligible mumble.

"Good girl.", Karen cooed, as though she were talking to a cat. "Look around a
little to make sure you can find this exact spot again. Okay?"

Carol nodded.

"This is where you will come to pee. When you really need to pee, you will ask
my permission by saying, "Miss Karen, may the slut have permission to go to her
place in the yard?", and you will come to this exact spot if I give you
permisison. Do you understand so far?"

Carol nodded. Could it get any worse?

"And when you come here, you will squat down on your haunches with your knees
wide and your hands behind your back, facing the house. Do you understand that
part?"

Carol nodded.

"Then you will hold that position until I signal that it's okay for you to pee.
When I tell you or signal that it's okay to pee, you will pee then without
delay. Do you understand this part?"

Carol nodded again.

"After you have completely emptied your bladder, you would return to the place
and position or activity you were in when you requested permission." Karen took
advantage of the opportunity to slip her tongue in the slut's ear. It was not
so much to give the slut any pleasure, but to entertain herself by watching how
fast those abused nipples would harden. She was not disappointed.

"My time is highly valuable. You have no value and your time is
inconsequential. So, you won't waste my time by interrupting me for pee breaks
too often. When you ask, you'd better be sure there won't be any delay or that
you won't be pissing out a respectable volume on your lawn here. There will be
consequences otherwise. After a while, you'll kill the grass in this spot and it
will be easy for you to find.", Karen added, intentionally drawing a parallel
with the effects of a****l urine on lawns. It was part of the process.

She stepped back and looked up into the sparse clouds, noting the golden tint
they were taking on as the sun lowered toward the horizon. "I'll tell you later
how we'll manage your bowel movements."

Carol was struck by the matter of fact attitude that the woman displayed. It
was obvious she had done this before, possibly several times. Carol's feet were
still sore but the numbness had left her, only to be replaced by the horny
longing her new neighbor was always able to reestablish in her. More than
anything, Carol still just wanted to cum.

Carol watched as her mistress strolled up to the edge of the pool and began
stripping off her clothes. There didn't appear to be an ounce of fat or flab on
her. Hers was the sorty of athletic body that Carol could sometimes convince
herself that she had while really knowing she might never quite get there. She
gazed after the object of her torment and her desires as Miss Karen began
swimming laps in the pool. It was another form of reinforcing Carol's status,
leaving her standing there, bound and naked in her back yard, while enjoying a
refreshing swim. Carol knew it, but her lifetime of fantasies of being used in
just this manner gave her the perspective that it was something she had always
wanted but never thought could happen. It was not the sort of situation she
would ever have put herself in. But, once in it, she found her desires
impossible to control and her thoughts more attached to the role she found
herself in than detached from it. She was surprised that she was not dwelling
on thinking of the means to escape. She was very much in the moment, feeling
the pain, the heat, and the warm glow between her legs that seemed to have a
louder voice than reason.

Though the pool was a bit shorter than hers next door, Karen enjoyed the swim.
It was always a turn on for her to swim naked, especially in unfamiliar
surroundings. She knew she would be spending a lot of time in the pool. She
reminder herself to find out who maintained the pool. Service people could
arrive at an inopportune time, and that wouldn't be good. After twenty
freestyle laps, she climbed out of the pool and laid down on her back next to
her clothes on the concrete deck. The slut could watch her for a while as she
let the slight, early evening breeze dry her body. She closed her eyes and
rested, confident the slut wasn't going anywhere.

She was right. Carol was mesmerized by the sight of her mistress's taught body.
Her breasts were small but very well shaped and firm. Carol longed to
experience her. She had never been drawn to another woman before, but had often
wondered what it would be like to be dominated by a beautiful woman. She was
finding out. She so wanted to be used sexually that she felt herself becoming
wet again, fearful only of the humiliation she might suffer when it was noticed.
But, was it really fear?

After about ten minutes of relaxing, Karen turned her head toward the slut and
told her to go into the house and to bring her hairbrush out. For a moment
Carol couldn't compute how she could perform the task, bound as she was. But,
she realized she could still grasp things with her hands tied behind her back as
long as she could access them. She shuffled toward the back of the house,
barely managing to open the sliding door, and stepped inside.

By the time she returned, she was disappointed to see that Miss Karen had
dressed and was sitting in one of the lawn chairs at the rear corner of the yard
near the stone grille. Carol slowly made her way there, understanding what it
must feel like to be handicapped. All the while, her nipples were hard and her
pussy wet. She was loving the abuse, if not every aspect of it.

Karen would not betray her feelings, but she was surprised at how readily the
slut had accepted her authority. It was simply a stroke of luck that she chose
one that harbored secret, submissive fantasies. It would be so much easier to
establish dependency and reach a state of instant obeyance with this one. She
reminded herself to continue to be cautious. For the time being, though, all
was well. The slut had managed to hobble all the way to her location and was
standing directly in front of her now. Though impatient by nature and always
anxious to move along to the next thing, Karen f***ed herself to enjoy the
evening for a few minutes longer before acknowledging the slut's presence.

"Turn around.", Karen ordered. She untied the clothesline binding the slut's
wrists and tossed it onto the grass. "Face me."

Carol turned back around as she had been told. She was ordered to brush Miss
Karen's hair, and spent the next ten minutes carefully grooming her beautifully
thick, shiny, blonde mane. Miss Karen finally took the brush from her hand and
dropped it onto the grass before untying the rope binding Carol's knees
together. It felt so much better to be able to straighten her legs. Now, if
only Miss Karen would allow her to remove the gag.

Karen stood and took hold of the clothesline hanging from the noose and again
led the slut across the yard toward the pool. At the pool's edge, she told her
to take the heels off and get in. She could see the relief on the slut's face
as she stepped out of the heels and lowered herself into the pool.

The water felt great, but her feet felt even better. She looked up at her new
mistress, wondering what to do next, then slowly moved into her waiting position
with her hands clasped behind her neck and feet spread. Mistress smiled, and
Carol was able to smile back, happy that she had done well.

"Dunk your head and get out, pet.", Karen ordered.

Carol dipped her head fully under the water, squeezing her mouth shut as much as
possible to keep the chlorine out, then quickly pushed herself up out of the
pool. She returned to the proper position once she was out. Miss Karen stepped
closer and removed the noose from around her neck, dropping it onto the concrete
deck. She then untied the knot at the back of Carol's neck and pulled it free
of her mouth, dropping it.

"You may spit my panties out now.", Karen told her. They landed on the deck with
a loud "splat".

"Quickly gather up all of the debris we've left around here and go to the
garage.", Karen said before returning to the house.

Carol literally ran around the back yard gathering her heels, hairbrush,
scissors, the pieces of clothesline, clothespins, and Miss Karen's wet panties.
She anxiously rushed to the garage and placed all of the items neatly on the
floor before assuming the position. She hadn't seen Miss Karen in the house,
and she wasn't in the garage. Carol nevertheless remained perfectly motionless
as she waited. Things had changed since she had been in the garage. Some of
the bags seemed to be missing, and she could see that her clothes had been
bundled into a good number of brown grocery bags. What did that mean?

The garage was not air conditioned like the rest of the house, so Carol began
sweating again as she waited. It was so quiet. She wondered what would happen
to her, what would happen next. Her mind began to play through the
possibilities. She envisioned herself being kissed by Miss Karen, and it nearly
made her swoon. Carol knew that she was more than a little taken in by the
situation, and by the strong woman who had put her in it. She reminded herself
that this was all her fault. She thought that what she was really doing was
protecting her husband and her mother from a lot of pain, and saving herself
from complete personal and professional destruction.

Inside the house, Karen had gathered up the slut's cash and credit cards and
placed them in her gymbag. She threw the dirty bedding in the washing machine
along with some laundry detergent and turned it on. Then she attached the new
house keys to the slut's key ring and proceeded to the garage, carrying her bag.
She was pleased to see her new pet holding her position well despite the stuffy
heat. Karen ignored her as she dumped the paper bags out onto the dirty
concrete floor and began rifling through the piles of items she had chosen to
keep for the slut. She tossed aside a pair of adidas crosstrainers, then found
a little pair of black knit shorts. Finally, after finding a black t-shirt, she
rose up and stood next to the slut. Handing over the t-shirts, she said simply,
"put it on".

As Carol pulled the t-shirt over her head, she noticed Miss Karen grasping the
scissors. Carol smoothed the t-shirt out over her ample breasts, seeing with
some embarassment that her nipples were pushing quite insistently against the
tight material that was already dampening up from her perspiration. Without
comment, Miss Karen began cutting the t-shirt off just under Carol's breasts.
She cut very carefully, all the way around, until the bottom half fell down
around Carol's hips. Miss Karen discarded the unwanted strip by tossing it into
a metal trash can in the corner of the garage. She dropped the scissors onto
the floor and ordered Carol into the little shorts. They were a bit difficult
to tug on, they were so tight. Carol had never worn them to run or work out in,
other than maybe doing some crunches or running on her treadmill at home. They
were too short to be seen in public in. Once she had them on, Miss Karen took
hold of the waistband at the back and tugged sharply upward, pulling the shorts
up tightly into Carol's butt, leaving the lower portion of her ass exposed.

"Shoes.", Karen said flatly, pointing at the adidas.

Carol crouched instantly to put them on. She knew what a wreck she must look
like. Her hair had certainly kinked up from being dipped in the pool, and all
the sweating certainly wasn't helping. When she stood, Miss Karen held her hand
out toward her and said simply, "Jewelry."

Carol reluctantly tugged off her wedding ring first, then the small heart
earrings her husband had bought her, and the gold necklace she had kept on since
church that morning. She placed them all in Miss Karen's hand and watched them
disappear into her large black gymbag.

"We have some errands to run, slut. So, you'll need to remember a few easy
rules and we won't have any "incidents" this evening. Do you understand?"

Carol nodded.

Seconds passed. Miss Karen was waiting.

"Uh. Oh. Sorry! Yes, Miss Karen, this slut understands."

"Good. You may refer to me as Miss Karen while we are in public, but you may
not speak unless spoken to. You will do what you are told. You will walk two
paces behind me at all times. Is this simple enough for a dumb whore like you
to remember?"

"Yes, Miss Karen. This slut will remember."

Chapter VI Debasement

"Get in the back seat. You'll sit in the middle."

As Carol climbed into the back seat of her Camry, Miss Karen tossed her heeled
sandals onto the floor in the back seat before throwing her gymbag onto the
front passenger seat and climbing in. She activated the automatic garage door
opener and started the car before turning around to look Carol in the eyes.
"Spread your legs so your feet are touching either side of the car, and put your
hands behind the small of your back." She didn't pause for a reaction.

"Yes, Miss Karen." It wasn't until she had heard the garage door begin to open
that Carol had started to experience a great deal of anxiety. It was bad enough
to have been slapped around, stripped, bound, and tormented behind closed doors.
But, this t-shirt she had on was barely long enough to cover the bottom of her
breasts. Along with the shorts, and the way her ass was hanging out of them,
she would look every bit the slut that she had been called all evening. She
knew she looked awful, and the heels on the floor, if she had to put them on in
this outfit, well...Oh, God.

Miss Karen was backing the car down the driveway now. "Slide forward a bit so I
can reach you while I'm driving.", she ordered.

"Yes, Miss Karen." Carol replied. Her voice was quavering. She slid forward
until she was sitting on the front edge of the middle of the back seat. It was
not at all comfortable, and her t-shirt was riding higher on her breasts. This
was the only time she really appreciated that she had gotten the privacy window
option on the Camry. Not that it prevented anyone and everyone from seeing her
in this predicament, but it was at least something.

Karen noticed the increased nervousness, but knew it would take little more than
a few strokes to get the slut's mind back on her hungry pussy and the hope of an
orgasm. Either that or a couple of slaps. She would simply have to find a way
to cope. That's all there was to it.

Carol noted that Miss Karen seemed to know the area quite well. She had not
seen any activity around the house next door in so long that she assumed the old
couple who had owned it had skipped visiting that past winter. But, it must
have sold. It was always so well maintained though. Whatever. Her neighbor
knew her way around.

After about ten minutes they pulled into a sleazy strip mall and pulled up to
the curb in front of a thrift store operated by a charity. Karen shut the car
off and got out, leaving the windows up. It wouldn't hurt the slut to sweat a
bit more. It was still oppressively hot, especially after being in a car with
such cold air conditioning for a while. Karen opened the trunk and removed the
bags of discarded clothes that had belonged to the slut and her husband. She
carried them through the doors and placed them in a neat row next to the check
out counter. It took her three trips to get them all into the store.

Carol watched in frustration. She knew those bags contained her husband's
clothes. She was fixated on her concern as to what she would ever be able to
say to explain what happened to them. She couldn't believe this was happening.
Why in the world would Miss Karen do this? Only a small, foolish part of her
told her to get out and have a discussion about this. Prudence kept her
silently in place, sweating profusely in the heat while lewdly displayed in her
own back seat. She glanced around, thankful that it was nearly closing time
and there were few customers in the plaza.

Karen patiently waited while the large black woman operating the register filled
out her receipt, in the name of Carol Sizemore, for the bags of miscellaneous
clothing. Such things came in handy at tax time. Karen might have another use
for the receipt, though. She returned to the Camry only to place the receipt
in the gymbag, get some cash out and to retrieve the slut. "Get out. It's
time to do some shopping."

Carol told herself that it took considerable courage to get out of the car.
Whether it was out of fear of crossing Miss Karen, having her affair exposed and
life ruined, or the simple desire to follow orders, Carol managed to get out
without objecting or breaking down in some way. When she tried to pull the
shorts down over her butt her hand was slapped away. "Keep your fucking hands
at your sides!", Karen hissed. The black woman looked out at them blandly.

Carol followed Miss Karen into the store, carefully keeping pace with her from
two steps behind. Completely embarassed to be dressed this way in public, she
kept her eyes riveted to Miss Karen's ass. "Stoah closin in ten minute.", the
black woman warned as they passed her. They made their way to the women's
clothing section.

Carol had always been a great dresser. She wouldn't be caught dead in a thrift
store, let alone wearing anything from one. All of her clothes, at least those
that were just then in a heap on her garage floor, were designer or brand name
items. She had no idea why they were there until Miss Karen next spoke.

"I'm guessing you're a size six. Is that right, slut?"

Carol's heart seemed to drop all the way to her feet. Miss Karen had called her
"slut" loud enough for the cashier to hear.

"Yes, Miss Karen.", she whispered.

Karen was browsing through the size six skirt section. "What? I couldn't hear
you.", she said.

"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol answered a bit more loudly.

Karen quickly stepped to her left, placing her face inches in front of the
slut's while taking a firm hold on her right nipple. Pinching it roughly, she
quietly but intently said, "One more mistake and you are toast. Do you get the
meaning of that?"

Tears welling up in her eyes, Carol answered clearly, "Yes, Miss Karen." The
cashier was listening and doing a poor job of pretending not to be.

Karen returned to browsing. She pulled a black skirt off the rack and held it
up to the slut's waist. It was suitably frumpy, so she put it in the slut's
hands and moved over to the blouse rack. After looking for just a few seconds,
she found a thin white polyester blouse with a wide collar and quarter length
sleeves. It buttoned down the front.

Carol could see a cigarette burn on one of the sleeves and a stain on the
collar. It, too was handed to her. Miss Karen gave her a five dollar bill and
told her to go pay for the items and to meet her at the car. Carol tried wiping
away her tears before reluctantly making her way to the cashier. What had she
been reduced to?

The cashier looked at her with a mild expression of contempt on her face. She
had probably seen it all, Carol thought. The fact that Carol was getting any
reaction at all must mean that she really did look like a complete slut. She
felt herself blushing as she stepped up to the counter. "Dat be all?", the
cashier asked, looking her level in the eyes. Carol glanced around. "Uh,
yes.", she replied shakily. The cashier rang the items in and Carol gave her
the five dollars. As the change was being handed to her, the cashier spoke
slowly, as though she wanted to make an important point. "Yo life on da wrong
track, girl. Yo needs to get raght wit God."

"Tell me about it.", Carol thought.

Miss Karen had her toss the skirt and blouse into the trunk, surrender the
change from the purchase, then get back into the car. They drove a few blocks
further into one of the worst parts of town before pulling into the lot of an
adult video emporium. Miss Karen pulled Carol's credit card out of the gymbag
and handed it to her. "Go in and buy three buttplugs; small, medium, and large.
Then choose five movies featuring interracial sex - black men and white women.
Be sure to bring me the receipt. Ta Ta!" She turned and began fiddling with
the radio.

The parking lot was nearly full, and this was a dangerous part of town. Carol's
heart was thumping so heavily in her chest that she thought she could hear it.
She was not telling herself she was brave this time. She was just plain scared
to death. She had never been in such a place. She had never been in this part
of the city.

She slowly stood, closing the door behind her. She heard Miss Karen click the
automatic doorlocks to the locked position before cranking the stereo. The only
way to do this, Carol thought, was to do it quickly and get it over with.

To say that she attracted attention when she passed through the door would be an
understatement. She became the main attraction. White women simply didn't
visit the store, especially white women that were dressed to fuck. There were
eight men in the store, along with the clerk. All of them were looking her over
quite blatantly as she stood frozen just inside the door. Finally, the clerk,
an older man with a raspy voice and a huge head, said, "C'mon in an visit a
while, girl. We's all fammy heah." A couple of the men snickered. A younger
man who looked to Carol like a gang member was a bit more blatant. He strode
menacingly toward her, saying, "Show me dem tits, bitch."

Carol nearly panicked. She quickly considered running out the door, but thought
if she moved fast it would cause the man now standing in front of her to react
in a way that might not be best for her. "Please. I, ah...I just need to buy a
few things.", she stammered. Some of the men laughed at her.

"Oh. You buyin nah. Ah see.", the man in front of her replied, grabbing his
crotch. "How much you wanna pay for dis big black man meat raht heah?"

All of the men burst out laughing as though he had said the most hilarious thing
they had ever heard. Carol didn't know what to do. She looked across the room
and saw a variety of butt plugs hanging on a wall display. She decided to try
ignoring them, and stepped around the man blocking her path. He slapped her ass
as she passed him. The others made room for her to walk between them, but they
hadn't seen the need to keep their hands to themselves. She wasn't so much
fondled as she was groped at as she passed through them to the display.

"Look Donnie!", one of the men exclaimed. "Bitch take it up de ass. Lookathat!"

Carol took three different sizes of plugs off the wall and moved quickly to the
right where the movies were displayed. It wasn't at all difficult to find five
videos that met Miss Karen's criteria. The store obviously catered to black
men, and having sex with white women was one of their leading fantasies, Carol
knew. The first movie she took down was entitled, "Gang Bang Bitch". The cover
was composed of a photograph of a young white girl being f***ed to have anal sex
in a room full of black men. Something clicked inside Carol. It wasn't some
sort of epiphany, or a bright flash of enlightenment. It was more a sense of
resignation. Seeing the movie cover triggered one of her darkest fantasies.
She realized her pussy was gushing and her erect nipples were lifting what
little fabric covered them.

Now she was in a kind of daze, pulling down the remaining four movies with
little thought, carrying them to the counter and placing everything there,
turning to face the gathering of men who were gazing hungrily at her, and simply
lifting up the front of her cut-off t-shirt to fully expose her breasts to them.
She closed her eyes and licked her lips as the cacaphony of lewd comments washed
over her.

"Looka dem nips!"

"Jesus H. Donnie!"

"Sweet Jesus what a fine bitch!"

"Bitch want fucked!"

She heard the door being latched. The overhead lights were flipped off, but a
small lamp near the cash register provided some light. The younger, scary man
took her by the wrist and pulled her toward the back of the store. The others
followed. Carol looked back to see the clerk glancing out the window before
following along. Someone took her credit card out of her hand. She was pulled
through a doorway into storage room that smelled of spilled beer and urine.
Hands covered her entire body, pinching, rubbing, poking, and pulling at her
little shorts and her shirt. Foul fingers slid between her lips, and she sucked
them in all their Kool menthol nicotine nastiness. Her shirt was lifted over
her head and tossed aside. Her shorts were roughly pushed down around her
ankles and pulled off. She had no idea where they were thrown, because she was
already being lifted onto a table, pushed down onto her back. Her knees were
lifted and spread, her body pulled back until her head hung free over the edge.
They were talking all the while.

"Lissin ta the bitch purrin like a kitty!"

"Pussy wet over heah, JayJay!"

"Yessir. Bald white pussy!"

"Ah sees dat. Looka dem titties!"

She winced as her nipples were pinched and twisted. They were still sore.
Someone cradled the back of her neck. She opened her eyes momentarily, just in
time to see a beautiful black cock being moved closer toward her lips. She
opened willingly, fully. She looked beyond the cock, straining her eyes to see
higher. What looked back was a video camera. Her body tensed. "Yo calm down,
bitch. We wanna watch you fuckin us later. Keep us outta jail too, right
boys?"

All of the men laughed again. There would be no denying she was there
willingly. There could be no claim of **** now. All of the desire Miss Karen
had built up in her over the past few hours had put her here. She was
responsible for this, not Carol. Carol hadn't put herself in this position.
Now in it, that she would take advantage of it by having her desires sated, her
fantasy fulfilled, was clear. Why not? Why not give in to it? It was ****, in
a way. She hadn't set out to have this happen. It was not her intent.

The rationalizations flashed by between the realization there was a video camera
focused on her and the passage of the hard cock between her lips. It moved
slowly but f***efully in, all the way to the back of her throat. The heavy
balls rested against the top of her forehead. She guessed there was another six
inches of shaft remaining outside her lips, but before she could reach for it
her hands were guided to other cocks on either side of her. She took hold of
them eagerly, beginning to stroke them in an alternating rhythm that did as much
to prove that she was deeply into this game as her primal moaning.

One of them pushed down on her knees, spreading them so widely her thigh muscles
stretched to their limits. She couldn't see who was there or what was
happening, but someone was about to fuck her. Thick, warm lips were on her
nipples, biting and sucking. Someone clumsily flipped her clit back and forth
with a large finger or thumb. It was maddeningly pleasurable, and caused her
hips to come into motion. The cock in her mouth held her captive. Lips
distended around it's impressive girth, she could do nothing with it as her
tongue was pressed flat against the underside while the cameraman it was
attached to held it firmly in place.

She felt her pussy lips being pulled open as another cock was fed into her.
This one she knew to be as big as Ralph's by the way it felt. The man there
pushed the head through slowly before withdrawing out of her. "Looka dat!", he
exclaimed, "Bitch's cunt all wet. She lovin it!"

"Howsabout you shuttup and git ta fuckin it, Big Johnson. We all is waitin our
turn boy. Ain got all night.".

With that he replaced his cock at her pussy and pushed in, once again, until
just the head was inside her. "Bitch can take a big black man, nah. Bitch can
take it see." Some of the others replied affirmatively. "Push it in an we'll
see. Go on."

As he began to push into her she realized he was even bigger than Ralph. She
had never tired of being completely filled by his wonderful ten inch cock. She
could never get enough of it. This one was larger, and it kept pushing slowly
forward, ever deeper into her hot, clinging pussy.

The man whose penis was in her mouth now began to fuck her with slight movements
to the back and forward again, always threatening to trigger her gag reflex as
he pushed against the back of her throat. The cocks in either hand were rock
hard and impressively sized as well. She could feel her arms burning from the
constant stroking she was maintaining.

Suddenly, as though it had been coordinated, both cocks that were penetrating
her were ruthlessly thrust forward. The one in her pussy reached her cervix and
entered parts of her that had never been reached before. It was in to the hilt,
and the momentary spasm of pain would pass quickly, Carol knew. The one in her
mouth was an entirely different situation, however. As it pushed into her
throat, she was able to successfully, if temporarily, stop it by pushing her
tongue up and trying to constrict her throat. She was gagging when renewed
effort pushed it past those minor obstructions and directly into and down her
throat passage. Her entire body bucked involuntarily as her breathing was cut
off and the searing pain in her throat made her forget everything else. She let
go of the cocks in her hands and was able to vainly thrash around for only a
few seconds before being pinned down. The balls were now dangling down on
either side of her upturned nose as the man thrust fully into her throat and
held himself there for a few seconds as though to establish just what sort of a
position she was really in.

The cock in her pussy was now pistoning in and out of her at a rapid pace. The
long, brutal strokes were hitting home with an impact that produced an audible
smacking noise each time the man's balls slapped her ass. She was literally
impaled at both ends.

After what seemed an eternity but was only a few seconds, she felt the cock in
her throat withdrawing slowly outward, pursued by the bile that was rising out
of her stomach in response. When the head had slipped back past the base of her
tongue she vomited out and around the cock, the nasty, burning liquid running
down her nose and over her face into her hair. He held himself there to allow
her time to heave a few more times and to take a couple of breaths. One of them
said, "Ain nobody ever teach the ho ta deep throat, but she'll learn!"

Her whole body was jerking with each thrust of the man who was fucking her cunt.
The cock in her mouth again pressed forward until it was poised for another
entry into her throat. Trying to breath through her nose, she whimpered loudly,
trying to beg him not to do it to her again. To no avail, though. Again, her
throat was distended to accept the f***ed passage of the long cock. She gagged
and her body jumped involuntarily again as she felt the balls sliding up over
her forehead to find their home pressing against her eyeballs this time. She
retched again as it was withdrawn, then struggled for air. "Damn! I ain never
seen a bitch neck stretch out like dat, Donnie!", one of them said. "Me
neiver." , was the reply.

She was now being fucked in her pussy with abandon, and knew the man there was
close to getting his satisfaction. She wished her attention could be fully on
what still did feel like a wonderful fucking there, but her natural instinct was
to focus on where she was going to get her next breath. Now the man was pushing
down her throat again, and had begun fucking her as though her mouth were a
pussy. He would push in, stroke in and out several times, then back out to
allow her to breath before repeating his merciless thrusting. She had stopped
gagging and was thankful for that, but the burning pain in her throat made her
wonder if she would ever be able to talk again. She knew she was taking at
least ten inches on both ends of her body. Her fantasy hadn't involved this
sort of misery.

The man fucking her pussy grabbed her hips and thrust into her one final time.
With a loud groan, he spasmed and shot jets of his ghetto seed deeply into
Carol. The man fucking her mouth seemed to be getting close as well. He seemed
to have forgotten about her need to breath and was continuing long strokes down
her throat without pause. She felt his balls tighten on her face as he shoved
himself fully into her before exploding directly into her throat with a few
a****listic grunts. The two of them exchanged hand slaps before withdrawing
simultaneously from both ends. "God damn!" someone said.

Hands pushed down on her to ensure she had no thoughts of getting up while new
cocks were presented to her mouth and pussy. Her own hands were guided back to
hard cocks on either side of her that needed attention. Her nipples felt
distended and sore, but deliciously aroused from the continuous abuse they were
getting.

Carol stayed on that table for the next thirty minutes, being used as a
convenient fuck toy for the clientele of the local black adult video store.
Most of the remaining men opted to deposit their jism on her body rather than in
it. The exception was the younger man who looked like he was a gang member. He
opted to use Carol in the most debasing way a black man can, by fucking her in
the ass. His seed was left deep within her bowels.

When the last man had carefully shot his semen onto her face and in her hair,
she was dragged off the table and onto the floor. The clerk kicked her shirt
and shorts at her and told her to "Get da fuck out." Most of the other men had
drifted away while she had still been on the table.

Carol dressed slowly, in a daze. It wasn't that she had that much to pull on,
she was simply out of it. She had been thoroughly fucked and otherwise abused.
She didn't know if Miss Karen would still be waiting, or what. She thought
about the movies and the butt plugs she had been expected to buy, and decided
she still had to follow through with that, although it seemed somehow that she
had been a different person then. She remembered the credit card being taken.
As she stumbled out of the storage room and toward the door, she saw that the
clerk had bagged her items and was holding out he credit card for her to take.
"Receep is in da bag.", he said flatly.

As each man left the temporarily closed store, he had passed next to Karen in
the slut's car and paid her the twenty dollars each had agreed to pay to fuck
her. She had loaned the video camera to one of them in exchange for his getting
to use the slut for free if he shot a movie of the entire thing. She hadn't
charged the clerk either, as he was taking a risk with his job in allowing it
all to happen.

When the slut finally came wandering out and got into the back of the car, she
at least remembered her position and assume it, if a bit slowly. Karen made a
point of counting out the one hundred and twenty dollars the slut had just made,
but didn't bother to explain it. She turned toward her well used former
neighbor and asked what took her so long.

"This slut was...****d by those men in there, Miss Karen."

"Well, that's no surprise. What'd you expect going into a place like that
dressed like such a slut?", Karen replied innocently. "You're a wreck!"

Carol didn't respond, other than to begin sobbing.

Karen next drove to a large warehouse club where she knew the slut had a
membership. Digging into the gymbag, she produced the membership card and
flipped it into the back seat. "On aisle sixteen there is a large a****l cage,
like for a great dane or something. Buy it with your credit card. Get some
help to load it. We'll have to haul it back with the trunk open. They'll tie
it down for you."

Carol sat in disbelief. She had just been fucked by eight men. She wasn't
going anywhere. She wasn't buying a dog cage for this bitch. She wasn't...

Miss Karen was holding up a cellphone as though she were about to dial a number.
"What was that number? Let's see, seven one two, four seven three, eight,
five..."

It was Carol's mother's phone number. "Wait!", she shouted. "I'll go...I mean.
I'm sorry. This slut will go, Miss Karen. Please don't call my mother!" She
was crying openly now, breaking down even further.

Karen flipped the cellphone closed and began looking at the movies Carol had
chosen at the video store as the slut climbed out of the car and made her way
across the parking lot toward the store. Karen had intentionally parked some
distance away to maximize the slut's exposure. She had borne up exceptionally
well after being so thoroughly used. That was good. Only one more stop after
this one, and then home for more fun and games.

Carol felt completely hopeless as she crossed the huge parking lot. She knew
she was attracting attention. Women looked at her with contempt. Daddies tried
to shield their k**s from seeing her. She was dirt. Just a whore. She had no
business being in public looking the way she did. She sniffled and wiped away
her tears. She could've kept crying, but it would only have made her more
conspicuous. Tried to run her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to
improve her appearance a bit. Instead, she found her fingers entangled in the
matted, gooey mess. She smelled. She felt and looked disgusting.

Karen knew the store an it's interior layout. She watched closely as the slut
entered, showed her membership card, then walked off to the left where the
restrooms were rather than directly into the store toward aisle sixteen. That
was expected. The stupid bitch was sloppy at remembering her instructions and
would be corrected soon enough. Karen found it amusing that the slut never
questioned why she was buying a cage. She either thought nothing of it or knew
it was for her and opted not to object. It was the trauma of having to walk
around in public in the condition she was in that made her rebel. Rebellion
was good if it led to better control. Before long the subject would be on
autopilot in terms of following instructions and the need to coerce her would
dissipate.

About fifteen minutes passed before the slut reappeared in front of the store
with an employee pushing the cage on a cart. The slut waved in Karen's
direction, but she opted to leave her exposed for a few seconds longer before
starting the car. As Karen pulled up she could see that the slut had washed her
hair out in the restroom sink. She had managed to clean herself up quite a bit,
but she still had that well fucked look about her. The poor boy helping the
slut had an erection that he couldn't find a way to hide.

Karen pulled up in front of them and popped the trunk lid. The slut helped the
boy load the cage into the trunk with some difficulty. It would only fit in on
one end, leaving half of it hanging out. The boy took some twine and tied the
trunk lid down to keep the cage from falling out.

Carol thanked him nicely. He was effusive in his thanks of Carol for
patronizing his employer. When she tried to open the right rear door to climb
into the back of her car, Miss Karen lowered that window instead and told Carol
to get the boy's phone number. She said she thought he might have a crush on
her. Carol flushed at the thought of doing it, but she had to. Turning quickly
to try to get to him before he reentered the store, she called out loudly to
stop him. Several people in the lot looked at her as though she were a sideshow
freak. The boy stammered out his phone number, feeling like the stroke of luck
he had just then would never be matched in his entire life.

Carol was thankful that when she returned to the car she was able to enter it.
Miss Karen took the receipt, the membership card, and the credit card from her.
Carol assumed her position in the back seat as Miss Karen wordlessly pulled out
of the parking lot and back onto Palmetto Boulevard, heading in the direction of
home.

Miss Karen adjusted the mirror so that it reflected Carol rather than the
traffic behind the car. "Pull your shirt up over your breasts, slut.", she said
evenly, as though she were making a comment about the weather.

Carol was too exhausted to protest, so simply rolled the cut off t-shirt up as
far as the neckline and returned her hands to the small of her back. Her
nipples always betrayed her. They had been hard for hours now. They throbbed.
They had never endured so much abuse before. She wanted to take a long, hot
bath. She needed a drink. She felt much better after she had peed and
freshened up back at the warehouse store. Miss Karen hadn't noticed. Who cared
anyway? What was she going to do?

Before Carol realized it, they had parked outside a 24 hour Walmart near her
home and Miss Karen was ordering her to change into her heels and get out of the
car. The last thing Carol needed was yet another public display. Somebody who
knew her would see her if this kept up. Not that they would recognize her, but
they might. At least Miss Karen was getting out, too. Carol smoothed the
t-shirt out over her breasts so that she would not be exposed…