As he rocked her, she kept her head pressed to the wall, her entire focus on the dollar bills. "Such a whore," he grunted, fucking her hard. "Just wants her money. Do anything for the money."
To test her, Brenda called out, "What are you, frog?"
"Your worthless cunt, ma'am," Jane intoned, her voice flat, just as Robert came inside of her. Brenda stood back, a bemused expression on her face. He might be fucking her, but the slave belonged to Brenda.
***
Jane was on her hands and knees with her forehead touching the floor. Brenda was standing over her with a whip in her hand. Jane hadn't had any food or water for close to 24 hours. She felt so weak she could barely concentrate on what Brenda was saying to her. Robert leaned against one wall, watching the proceedings, looking almost bored. He perked up when Brenda said, "Ok, now, cunt. I'm going to make you perform for your supper." Jane perked up as well. Food! Please God, let the crazy people feed her; she was famished.
Brenda went on, "If you follow everything I tell you to do to the letter, I'll let you eat and drink until you can't eat another thing. Now. The first thing you have to do is spread your asshole for us."
Even as tired and hungry as she was, Jane felt a flush of embarrassment and anger at this absurd demand. But food! The promise of food! Reluctantly, but surely, she put her hands to her
bottom and spread her own cheeks for her captors' amusement. Robert leaned in to see her degradation, his cock straining against his jeans. "Good slut," Brenda said, enjoying the thrill of total control over another human being.
"And now, stick your finger up your nasty little asshole." As Jane obeyed, her face burning with shame, Brenda began her lecture about debasement. "You see, Robert. When they get properly trained, and when they get hungry enough, they are all the same. Pride is stripped away in the face of fear and survival. No one is immune. Not the strongest, bravest man," she dug a toe into Jane's bony side, "or the most stubborn little cunt.
"What I'm really talking about here is being stripped of dignity. Stripped naked. It isn't just about being physically naked; it's about being emotionally bared – desecrated. It's an intensely powerful and intimate act. It's as if dignity were a shell or a wall, another defense, another barrier to intimacy and connection. You see, Robert," she went on, though he really wasn't listening, preferring to focus on the little tart fingering her own buttocks on the floor in front of him, "grace and composure and self-control are distancing devices, used to keep other people at bay. Jane here has no self-control left. No dignity. She is stripped bare. She is nothing but our frog, our slave, our piece of property to use or destroy as we wish. I'll prove it."
Brenda pushed at Jane with her foot until Jane fell on her side. She leaned down, forcing Jane to focus on her face, on her words. "Open your mouth, bitch. I'm going to piss in it. When I'm done, I'll bring you a steak and home fries and a huge glass of cold water. I'll bring you apples and apricots and some pastry. But first, my piss. Go on, open wide."
Jane opened her mouth. Her degradation was complete.
Jane was standing in the middle of her room. What morning was it? She no longer knew what day it was, though she could see daylight through her window and a dark black sky at night. Sometimes the night sky was so breathtakingly beautiful she almost forgot where she was. It would be dotted with thousands of tiny stars that looked like twinkling diamonds in a sea of black ink. She realized they must be far out in the country. No city lights competed with the blaze of stars. Jane could spend hours watching the heavens, sometimes sitting for so long that the black faded into gray and then pink. As the stars faded she would be painfully reminded of the glass and walls that separated her from the rest of the world.
Day blended and bled into night. Time was measured by when she got to eat, when she got to shower, when she was tortured, when she was left alone.
Today Jane's arms were extended, wrists shackled and pulled up, secured by chains that hung from the ceiling. Her ankles were similarly chained and spread so that she was forced to stand in a taut
X. Her pale body was marked with long pink and purple stripes from prior whippings. Her ass was bruised and blotched from a recent paddling. Each rib was etched under her almost translucent skin, round little breasts were pulled high by her raised arms, the rosy nipples stiffening in the cool air. Her lank blonde hair was greasy and there were bluish marks of fatigue smeared under each pale-lashed eye. Her mind was empty, her focus only on how to stand so as to cause the least discomfort while she waited for her tormentors to come to her.
Brenda had come in early, ordering Jane up and out in a crisp no-nonsense voice. Jane had climbed out of her cage, hugging her naked thin frame with her arms, waiting for Brenda's orders, her head down. Usually she was up before either of them came in and could relieve herself in private. Last night she had been mesmerized by a meteor shower framed in the square of her window. She hadn't returned to her palette until dawn.
When she heard the door being unlocked, she was instantly awake, but lay still in her cage, waiting. She had hoped for Robert with a tray of food. When Brenda came first, breakfast usually was foregone. She needed to pee, but didn't dare ask.
Without speaking, Brenda grabbed at Jane, pulling her arms up and securing each wrist, climbing on a stepstool to reach the ceiling hooks. Today she used metal cuffs which ratcheted tighter if the person wearing them were to struggle.
"Stand feet apart. Wider," she directed, kicking at Jane's ankle. Jane did as ordered, blushing furiously as Brenda casually grabbed at her pussy, fingering it, pressing inside of her. With one hand still buried in Jane's cunt, Brenda took the girl's chin in her hand and forced her face up.
"Robert's in the mood for a little needle play." Jane blanched. "He used to do tattoos when he was in the Navy. You like needles, frog girl?" Brenda smiled an evil smirk and pinched Jane's pussy lips with her long sharp nails. She didn't seem to expect a reply. Releasing her hold on Jane's pussy, she busied herself securing Jane's ankles.
Needles! Jane hated needles. Beyond being whipped, being bound, even being caned, she was terrified of needles. She had always avoided shots at the doctor's office; even giving blood made her sick. Just the thought of the long thin sharp needle piercing her skin made her break into a cold sweat. She felt nausea rise at the thought that Robert was going to use a needle on her.
When Brenda was satisfied that Jane was secure, she left her there. Time became meaningless in the silence and Jane closed her eyes, images of a life past floating in front of her. Parents she hadn't seen in three years. Brothers she never visited. Her small apartment with the red Formica kitchen table and chairs. The window she had always meant to put a window box on and fill with flowers. If she ever got out of here, she'd plant those flowers. Something bright and colorful. Jane whispered a prayer to nothing in particular. Then she fell silent, willing all thoughts out of her head.
After some time, perhaps ten minutes, perhaps an hour, Jane became increasingly aware of her bladder. She had sipped from her
water bottle before Brenda had come to waken her. Now she regretted it. As more time passed, poor Jane began to fixate on her bladder. Her wrists ached and she longed to close her legs. But more than anything, she needed to pee. Because her legs were spread, she couldn't use her muscles to hold back the urine. It was through sheer will that she didn't let go. Distraction arrived in the form of Robert. He was dressed in his shorts, his burly chest bare except for several thick gold chains, which to Jane looked tacky but were no doubt worth a fortune.
"Froggy!" he boomed, "I'm ready to play!" Jane choked back a sob of fear. Robert held out a small velvet box which he opened with a click. Inside were rows of long, thin, very sharp looking needles. Robert extracted a small one and held it up for Jane to see. He grinned. "Brenda mentioned you looked a little sick around the gills at the mention of needles. Not to worry. I'm going to help you. I'm going to desensitize you. By the time I'm done with you, you won't even mind the sight of your own blood." Jane's head fell back and her eyes closed. She was as white as death, but she was still conscious.
Brenda came in to watch the show. It wasn't often that Robert engaged purely in torture. He was such a randy man; things usually degenerated into a sex fest for him. But he
did
like needles. Robert showed poor Jane a selection of long thin sewing needles, ranging in size from one to three inches, of varying thickness, all with very sharp points. He took one out and held it between two fingers, bringing it close to Jane's face. He forced her to open her eyes.
"Please!" she cried, her voice cracking with fear, freezing in her throat.
"So now you're saying please! What a nice change. 'Please poke me with that long sharp needle,'" he teased, his voice pitched up in falsetto. That's what you mean, isn't it, cunt? You want to feel it pierce your flesh." As he spoke, Robert came close to Jane so she could feel his breath against her face as he bent forward.
Instinctively she pulled back, trying to get away, but of course there was no escape. Robert dragged the needle lovingly down her cheek,
using the flat of it, holding it parallel to her face so she only felt the cold metal, but no prick. Still she was terrified.
"Please, sir" she begged again. "Please, not that! Please!" She began to cry, little sniffling sobs, gasping for breath. Robert stood back, somewhat surprised by her strong reaction. After all she had endured, to react like this over a little pinprick! He didn't understand, but he smelled her fear, saw her terror. He felt his cock stiffen with pleasure as he watched his captive try to avoid the little point in his hand.
Gently he poked her right breast, just barely scratching her with it. Jane squeezed her eyes shut and again arched back. He took a thinner needle and pressed it against her soft flesh, breaking skin, watching intently as a tiny droplet of bright red blood appeared. Looking down, Jane screamed and began to babble, begging him to stop. She had jerked back hard, causing the metal cuffs to tighten, cutting into her wrists and ankles.
Robert appeared unmoved, but then his expression changed and a slow smile spread on his face. "Hey," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. "You
really
hate needles, huh? So much you would do anything to get away from them. Am I right?"
Jane nodded fiercely, a flicker of hope lighting in her eyes; maybe there was a way out! For a price. Always a price, but one she would pay to avoid another prick of his horrible needle. "Please," she whispered.
"Well, not that I have to ask your permission for anything, whore, but I have this little fantasy in mind, and it involves Mistress Brenda here." Bowing toward his wife, Robert went on, "I liked seeing Mistress squat on your face. But you didn't seem that into it," he grinned, avoiding the obvious pun. "I like to see a little enthusiasm when girls play. I want to see you eat cunt like you like it. Like you live for it. I want you to show me what a slut cunt-lapping little bitch you are. I want you to convince me you
love
it! And if I don't believe you, then you get all these needles, every single one, stuck into your tits and cunt. That's right, your little pussy will be all stuck full of sharp needles, like a pincushion! I'll tie you down on a table and give
you some acupuncture that'll make you see stars." He paused to let the image sink in. "So, do we have a deal?"
Jane nodded, relief palpable in her face, not thinking about what she was agreeing to, but only that he was putting the needles back and shutting the case.
"Ok, then. You just stay here a while and cool your heels. No breakfast for you today. I want you to be hungry for pussy!" He laughed, pleased with himself.
As they started to leave her, still tethered and chained, Jane managed to say, "Please, sir?"
"What?"
"Please, um, I didn't get to use the bathroom this morning and…" "You never get to use the bathroom, you stupid cunt. You piss in
the drain, like the filthy slut that you are!" Of course he knew what she meant but he enjoyed making fun of her, of watching the dull pink suffuse her features again and again. The girl was so thin-skinned it was ridiculous!
"I need to go," she finished, her eyes pleading.
"So go, who's stopping you? You're filthy anyway, what's a little more piss? We'll hose you down before I let you get near Brenda, so do whatever you want. Bye now." They left the room, shutting the door with a click, leaving her there, naked and alone.
She held it as long as she could, hoping against hope they'd come back and let her down, but it didn't happen. In fact, they were watching her on the closed circuit T.V. as they lazily ate their breakfast. The two sadists waited to see how long their prisoner would last till she peed on herself. They were patient and would wait as long as it took.
As it happened, it took about another half hour, and then, with a long plaintive sigh, poor Jane let go, feeling the hot liquid dribble down one thigh and splash between her legs in a little yellow puddle. She couldn't even close her legs, but was forced to stand there, naked and in chains, urine dripping from her pussy, until her captors saw fit to release her.
Brenda came in eventually, and Jane opened her eyes slowly, feeling too weak and defeated to wonder what was next. She was so hungry and her arms were asleep. When Brenda let her down, Jane slumped to the floor, landing in her own urine. "What a filthy pig you are," Brenda said. "You aren't getting anywhere near me stinking like that. You're disgusting!"
Tears welled in Jane's eyes, but she didn't respond. It was true, but obviously there was nothing she could do about it. Then Brenda spoke softly, her voice suddenly kind. "Would you like a shower, Janie? A real shower? A hot shower?"
Jane looked up at her, not sure she had heard right. Brenda was staring at her, clearly waiting for a response. Slowly Jane nodded, sensing a trap, wary. "And maybe some lunch after that? How about a hamburger and fries?" Jane's mouth watered so much that she had to swallow repeatedly not to choke, even though she was pretty sure she was being set up. Again she nodded, feeling her empty stomach like a hard knot inside of her.