Clara's Degradation

25 year-old Clara tossed her long blonde hair back from her face, reveling in the appreciative looks being sent her way as she strutted down the street. She was in the rough part of town – the part her husband always warned her not to frequent – but it was a much quicker way of getting to the designer shops where she so often enjoyed spending money on her platinum credit card. Her mini skirt, high heels and classic sexual looks made her look young – it was only the gold band on her ring finger that suggested she might be older than she looked. She tensed, sensing a presence behind her, and recalled her self-defense classes, but that wasn't enough to save her from the strong man behind who grabbed her instantly, put a hand over her mouth, and pulled her into an alleyway. No-one even gave it a second glance.

"Unless you want blood spattered all over that nice new Versace top, you'd best stay quiet."

Clara laughed, her natural poise showing through. "Get lost, creep. It's not Versace, it's Gucci. And don't you even know who my husband is? He'd have you put away before you'd even had time to --"

"Such brave words from one so young. But we know that Peter is out of town. For a month, isn't it? Anyway, you can blame your husband for this little predicament – he's the lawyer that sent me down, and now I'm going to send him a little gift. You, a broken and tortured shadow of the woman he loves. Well – the woman he lusts after, anyway – we all know he could never love a slut like you."

Clara immediately became fearful. "How the fuck do you know who I am?"

"We know everything about you. Now, if you give in and don't make a fuss, maybe you'll just get out of this alive. If you don't..." He trailed off, leaving it to her imagination. Clara looked around, almost expecting someone to help her. But everyone who walked past the alleyway was too occupied with their own business to notice what looked like a girl and her boyfriend having an argument. "So, are you going to play nice?" In answer, Clara lowered her resistance slightly, and the man pushed her towards the end of the alley. Two bigger men grabbed her, and the first tied a blindfold round her eyes while the other gagged her. She felt herself being thrown somewhere, and then the motion of a moving vehicle.

She didn't to speak for the entire journey. She had no clue where she was going, or even how long they had been driving. Eventually, the original man spoke. "Get up." She stood up, and allowed herself to be pushed along, and then into a chair. Her arms and feet were tied to the chair, and she felt a rope being passed around her waist, restraining her further. The blindfold was removed. She looked around and saw that she was in the kind of place she had always done her best to avoid. A single light-bulb hung down, washing the room in a harsh, bright light. The walls were covered in cheap and tacky paper, and the carpet was rough. Those thoughts soon left her mind, though, when two big men appeared at the doorway. The first man smirked at her, and then turned to his companion. "So, you want to tell her, or shall I?"

The other man grinned, and walked up close to Clara. "You know, Trey, I think it would be much easier just to show her. Don't you?"

Trey looked at him, and then at her. "God, poor girl. Look Paul – she's terrified." Clara looked up in surprise at the sound of Trey's kind sounding voice. "Don't smile at me, bitch. I can make you a lot more scared than that. Just be glad the boss isn't here yet." Unable to speak, unable to move, Clara's eyes darted about, searching for some kind of escape. There was none. Trey blocked the only doorway, and both men would be able to kill her with their bare hands, if they wanted to. "So, you reckon we can play a little?"

"I don't think that would be wise." Both men stepped back, at the sound of a voice that Clara recognized – it was the smooth, sinister voice of the man that had kidnapped her. He appeared in the doorway, and Clara got her first look at him. He was tall with dark drown hair and average features. Average except for the ominous glint in his eyes, which made Clara tremble far more than anything that had happened so far. "You know that I want her first. Do you want to disobey me?" Both men shook their heads, obviously very much under the power of their Boss themselves. "Good. Because I should hate to have to let one of you... go."

He turned his attention to Clara. "Untie the whore." They immediately moved to the chair and deftly undid the cords. They pulled her up roughly, and dragged her in front of the Boss. He surveyed her carefully. "Hmmm... you haven't really left much to the imagination, have you. Ah well. I'll just have to fill the time with other things." He got out a knife, which started Clara shaking again. "Oh, pull yourself together, woman. It's not to stab, cut or slice you." He put the knife inside her shirt, and quickly slit it down the middle. He did the same to her skirt, leaving her standing in nothing but her underwear. "Very nice. Just a few more adjustments to make now, I think." He swiftly cut through the centre of her bra, and then laid the knife aside, considering the d-cup breasts in front of him.

He loosened the gag, but Clara didn't make a sound. "Don't worry, Clara. As long as you do everything I ask all will be fine. I want you to say something for me." Clara waited. "I want you to say, 'I'm a stupid little cock slut'. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm a – a – " she burst into tears, but continued, when she saw the Boss's hand moving towards the knife. "I'm a stupid little cock slut."

"That's right. Also, you will call me Master. And your name is not Clara. Your name is Whore. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

He slapped her hard across the face. "Do you understand?"

"Yes master." Clara was sobbing now.

"Good." He turned to his men. "Throw her down onto the floor. And keep the gag off. I want to hear her screaming."

Paul and Trey threw her face up onto the ground and held her arms and legs so she was unable to move. The Boss crouched over her and slid his hand slowly inside her panties. He withdrew his hand in surprise, and looked up at his men. "The little slut is wet. So, Whore, you like what I'm doing to you, do you?" Despite her revulsion at what was going on, Clara couldn't help being turned on by what was happening to her, but this seemed to annoy the Boss. "Turn her over." The men grabbed her and pulled her onto her front, and then the Boss ripped off her panties. "Well let's see how much you enjoy this." He freed his hard and throbbing cock and rammed it into her virgin ass, and she screamed out in pain. Ignoring her pleas and tears he thrust all 7 inches of himself into her tight hole, over and over again. Clara lay there, unsure of whether she wanted to cry out in pain or pleasure, and the mixture of desire and disgust swept over her once again. She shuddered in involuntary lust as the Boss neared his climax. She started rocking her hips in time with his, trying to force his cock deeper inside her. With one final plunge, he released his load into her ripe and ready ass, just as she screamed out in gratification and grief, her orgasm shaking through her like nothing she had ever felt before.

The Boss stood up, but Trey and Paul remained on the floor, holding Clara down. "So you enjoyed that, did you?" The men pulled her up, and the Boss looked at the cum on the carpet. "Looks like it, judging by that mess you've made on the floor. "Now I want you to clean me." Clara looked at him in dismay – surely he wasn't going to make her suck his cock – not after he'd just shoved it into her ass? "You made me dirty, whore. Now you have to clean up the dirt." Nausea and excitement combating inside her, she moved towards him hesitantly. The men pushed her onto her knees, and the Boss pushed his cock into her mouth. She fought the desire to be sick as the head of his cock slid down her throat. "And I don't want a blow job, bitch. God knows where your mouth has been. Just lick me clean. Lick, lick, lick." She forced herself to clean his cock, trying to forget where it had just been. Once he was hard again, he pulled himself out of her mouth, and pushed her head into her cum on the carpet. "Now clean that." All three men laughed at her as she began to lick up her own cum. Finally, they left the room and locked the door, leaving their Whore with nothing to think about but the repulsive degradation they had just put her through.