Humiliated Ch. 02

"Shake it," he told her.

Afraid of hurting it, she gently moved it from side to side.

"That's no good," he said, and grabbed a fistful of hair. "Lick it clean, slut," he harshly shouted, while pulling her face against his wet cock.

With a whimper of self-pity, she licked it, trying to avoid the eye of his penis. Still holding her hair, he shoved his cock into her mouth. "Do a proper job, slut," he warned her.

The taste wasn't so terrible it was the thought of it, making her wretch. Bringing herself under control, she managed to suck his cock clean.

"Well done, slut," Rodrigo encouraged, while patting her bare ass. "Down, on the floor, good slut," he commanded, and pushed her into position with a foot.

"Open you legs, wider, come on! You can do better than that, you nasty slut," he encouraged her.

With eyes wide in astonishment, she watched him lather her crotch. How was she going to explain this to her husband? She wanted to protest, to at least try and explain to him why this was so wrong. Instead she lay very still, as he glided a cold steel razor over her crotch, ever closer to her lips.

His hands and fingers made a thorough job of denuding her pussy. In that position, with a pile of towels under her hips, her crotch and bottom were on show to him. Having had his fingers delving into her sex, and pulling on her lips, it was no wonder they glistened.

"On all fours again, come on move," he said, with another slap to her ass.

When he pulled something from his pocket Tracy caught sight of it and gasped.

"You guessed my little pet," he laughed. He eased the little fluffy tail into her bottom. "Come with me, my pet is to learn obedience and self control," he informed her.

Crawling out of the bathroom was more of an ordeal than when entering it. Her pussy was shaved and she had a small fluffy tail sticking out of her ass. The humiliation was building up to a terrible pitch. Her body was trembling from a deep sexual frustration.

From a bag he pulled black rubber phalluses, six of them, and placed them in a row on the floor. Each was a replica of a full size penis. It worried Tracy how this tormentor was going to humiliate her next.

"That's it, slut, take a good look at them. Slut is going to carry them across the room. On all fours, you obviously can't use your hands. So take the first one in your mouth. By the way, if there are any teeth marks on the soft rubber, you will be punished, for being a bad slut. First one then," Rodrigo said, giving her bare ass a push, with his shoe.

"More, you can take more of it than that, bad slut," he warned her.

Tracy choked and eased off the long dildo. She tried again, slowly pushing her head toward the floor. It surprised her how much, of the horrible tasting thing, she could engulf.

"You are not trying hard enough," he said, and slapped her ass with the leash. She whimpered, and pushed her lips further down its length. He was pleased with her progress, knowing it would take time for her to learn this lesson.

Her husband had once commented that her rose bud lips looked perfect for his cock. She had been appalled and made him sleep in the other room. He had been drunk at the time, though this was no excuse for such un-gentlemanly behaviour. He had the good grace never to mention the horrible idea again.

As that memory returned, she thought this all the more vile. A hotel employee had her sucking a nasty tasting cock, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her will to resist had been broken by Irene, and he was grinding her self-worth into the carpet.

She crawled to the other side of the room, deposited the phallus, and was led back on the end of the leash.

"More this time," he ordered. "You can do better than that!" he demanded. Tracy managed to kiss the carpet, only to quickly shake it out of her mouth, gasping for air.

"Careful, slut, it represents a penis. A penis is your master, the love of your life. Your well-being depends on it. Don't forget this or, you will be punished severely," he said, while holding her chin, looking closely into her eyes.

"Yes, master," Tracy replied. She tried again, carrying the phallus in her mouth, a little deeper this time.

By the time the sixth phallus had been carried, she was able to suck it into her mouth, and partly down her throat. She learnt to breathe around it, even when its head was expanding her neck.

Rodrigo patted her bottom and stroked her hair. "Well done, pretty little slut, you have done very well," he complimented her.

Tracy responded by wagging the tail, stuck up her ass. She felt the fine hairs tickling her bottom. The arousal was ever more frustrating. She looked at the phallus before her, wanting it in her vagina, only to feel so very bad from the idea of it.

"Squat there and practice your new skill," Rodrigo told her. With both hands she pulled the black cock until, its head separated her lips. She nodded and at the same time pushed it all the way in, down her throat, engulfing it all.

"Hey, you are such a good cock sucking slut!" Rodrigo exclaimed.

Tracy was ashamed and excited all at the same time. The feelings confused her. She should have been outraged from being treated so badly, yet she felt elated. Right then, pleasing this tyrant seemed important, and she just couldn't restrain the feeling.

She felt like a stupid, insignificant slut, from being so pleased at accomplishing such a degrading act. She tried to tell herself it was important, to keep him happy just to avoid receiving even worse ill treatment. In the back of her mind, she guessed it was from being humiliated, and that was turning her on.

"As you are such a good little slut, I have reward for you," Rodrigo announced, while patting her head. "You can put all the cocks back, with your pussy," he informed her. He grabbed the leash to manoeuvre her over one of them.

He pushed her bottom, forcing her crotch over one of the big black phalluses. She resisted.

"Perhaps the slut would rather have it up her asshole?" he laughed.

In a fit of terror she pushed her sex over the head of the phallus. To her surprise it fit. She was so wet and ready, the large bulbous head, slipped between her lips. Tracy felt defeated. She was just a dirty little slut. She pushed down on it, engulfing it entirely.

With him gripping the leash tight, she crawled across the room. The tail waggled from her ass with every movement, dusting her cheeks as she crawled. She turned around and with a tremendous effort managed to push the dildo out of her pussy. She had to help it with her fingers at first.

Looking at it resting on the floor, she felt empty and in need. She reluctantly moved across the carpet, to pick up another. This time she didn't need telling. She squatted on it and absorbed the large thing into her body. She felt her vagina being stretched.

The feeling was good. The feeling of fullness, of being complete, of needing an orgasm was overwhelming. The penultimate one had been delivered. She turned around and eagerly scampered back for the last one.

"Whoa! Hold on, stupid little bitch!" Rodrigo warned her. "You are so eager I think you want to cum. Yes?" he asked.

He held her face close to his. She could smell stale cigarette smoke and garlic. It didn't dampen an overwhelming enthusiasm though.

"Here, squat on the floor, lay back," he ordered. He held the dildo over her, moving around in circles. She looked like a puppy, keenly watching a favourite toy. Her eyes followed it, wherever he moved it. It was placed in her hands and she looked up at him, full of expectation.

"Go ahead, play with your pussy," he smiled. He watched her eagerly fill her pussy with the big black dildo. She worked herself hard, manoeuvring it against her clit with each inward stroke. It was a wonder she didn't hurt herself, through she had learnt over the last half hour how to handle it.

Irene walked in with shopping bags. She stood in the open door, with an expression of surprise. Her finely shaped eyebrows were raised to meet her hairline. Her open mouth closed to become a big, generous smile.

"You can stop that, right now, slut," Irene exclaimed with a fierce shout. She marched over to Tracy and shoved her with a pointy, high heel show. She grabbed the messy dildo from her friend's hands, and leaned close to her face.

"You are a dirty fucking slut. You are just a stupid, little girly bimbo. I can't leave you alone for a minute, without you whoring yourself. I will have to watch you, and keep you under my control," Irene said.

She tapped her nose with the smelly dildo. She watched the woman's face redden, as though she might explode. The beautiful young face creased up, in an agony of shame. Irene pushed the dirty phallus into her mouth. "Work with that, I don't want you to enjoy yourself, and cum. Not yet, not until I say you can," Irene warned her.

"Well done, Rodrigo. You have turned my friend, into a well trained, slutty bimbo," Irene announced. She clapped her hands in glee, laughing out loud.

Tracy felt leaden, so heavy, as though her whole body had turned into an iron machine. Her hand continued to piston the phallus in and out of her mouth. She felt small, as though shrunken by the tormentor. She wanted to crawl away through the deep pile of the carpet, like a tiny bug.

Between them they had crushed the humanity from her, leaving just a lowly, thoughtless bimbo, in place of her high moral standards. She was deeply dejected, being laughed at by her one time friend. Being naked before her, sucking so lewdly upon a black penis, left her feeling she deserved the ill-treatment.

She felt like a lowly bug, needing to be stamped upon, before she infected the whole room with her filthy tricks. She didn't deserve their praise, for she was just a dirty little slut. She was something without moral gumption, without the decency to behave properly around them.

Irene was going to take her away from here, to play with, and probably make her suffer. She deserved it. She needed to undergo a thorough cleansing of her soul. She needed a mistress to control her, someone strong to obey.

***

Tracy took no notice of the stares, as they walked through the hotel lobby. The little skirt was held up by the tail, she knew that, but other things were on her mind. Or, rather, one thing dominated her thoughts. She must obey her mistress, to the extent that she must try to anticipate her demands.

In the back of the car, Tracy lay across her mistress's feet, reinforcing the humble position. The chauffer drove home without comment. When they arrived, he opened the door for Irene, to clamber out, with Tracy on a leash behind her.

He gathered up the shopping bags, following the procession into the house. Although the house was not as grand as Tracy's, it was fashionably decorated, in a minimalist style. What little furniture there was, it was very expensive.

On the end of the leash, she was led to the centre of a large room. A grand piano stood to one end, looking as though it had never been played, merely there for show. Tracy was soon to learn she wasn't there just for show.

"Michael. You can leave the bags in the hall. I need you here. See this little slut. She is all sexed up and needs a man, could you oblige?" Irene asked, sounding imperious, as though she were asking him to valet the car.

"Anything to oblige ma'am," he smiled.

Irene had noticed the hardness in his trousers, obviously grown from taking an interest in her pet. She didn't think of herself as a harsh person, so thought to give both what they needed. At the same time, she would enjoy some entertainment.

The young man dropped the chauffer's uniform trousers to his ankles. He grabbed Tracy's hips and ploughed straight in.

Tracy squealed in fright, like a stuck pig. She was frightened from being unexpectedly taken, as well as feeling distressed from a sudden realisation, that she was so wet and open.

It was no longer possible to suppress the abhorrent idea, of being turned on from humiliation. She was painfully aware that her body was way ahead of him, already aroused to the edge of a climax. Her body needed to be fucked, and so a feral part of her mind urged her onward.

"Yes! Fuck me, harder!" she whimpered. "Punish my pussy, fuck me harder," she cried out.

"Well! I never thought to see, a friend of mine, begging to be fucked by a mere chauffer," Irene loudly stated. She watched keenly, as her employee pounded away at her one time friend. Tracy was on all fours, with the skirt around her hips, and the furry tail squashed between them.

He was breathing heavily, holding onto her, keeping her from moving. He cared nothing for her satisfaction, as he heaved against her buttocks, crashing into her, with mighty thumps of his hips. His cock pinned her in place, reaching deep into her vagina, sometimes lifting her knees from the floor. He hefted once more, a deep shove of his iron hard cock, and held it there.

"More! Fuck me more! Punish my pussy. I'm just a stupid slut, punish my pussy. Fuck me hard!" Tracy cried out.

As he pumped his sperm into her, Tracy cum. She lifted her head to yell, in fury, anguish and relief. Instead a whispered breath of air, rasped her throat. She seemed to gargle, as though on his juice. He had made use of her, so pulled out. He wiped his sticky cock on the back of her skirt, zipped up, and nodded to Irene.

"You're welcome Michael," Irene smiled. "Quiet a show, I'm impressed," she added, with an arched eyebrow, indicating amusement.

"I might keep you, just to amuse the staff. Always need to keep them happy, otherwise they move on," Irene said. She nudged Tracy with her foot, where the woman had collapsed on the floor.

She was still breathing heavily, not bothering to recover her composure. All was lost in the world to her. She was somewhere far away, trying to make sense of what had happened. Hoping it was all a nightmare, knowing full well it was not. The worst of it was, she had become aroused from the dire punishments dealt to her.

The young guy in the gas station, the trainer in the hotel room, the chauffer and last but not least, Irene. All had humiliated her, leaving her aroused, where she should have been angry and fought back. It could have been prevented, and it should have been stopped in the first place. Instead she could only blame herself, for all that happened. She needed to be punished more than ever.

Knowing Irene intended just that, to punish her, by playing games with her, left her panting. A panic attack threatened to overtake her. The power of the orgasm still gripped her, helping to hold everything in check. She would pay the price of even this retched behaviour. She would have to obey her mistress, however cruelly treated. Tracy would do whatever it took, for redemption.

"Come on, he wasn't that good, I need to get you ready," Irene said, prodding her with a delicate designer shoe. She looked the woman over, musing on how conservative she usually dressed. Her hair and make-up was always so precisely presented, as though she were a manikin.

Now she was spread out on the floor, with her hair a mess. The little skirt was twisted up around her waist, and she had lost her panties. Irene remembered they hadn't given the stupid woman any underwear. The boob-tube was rolled under her neck, from when the chauffer pulled her breasts free.

They still looked sore, from the rough treatment he gave them. His cum was seeping from between her legs. Irene stepped back, not wanting to spoil the new expensive shoes. It was all right for the hired help, to spill their sperm into her new pet, but not on her new shoes.

"Come on slut, get up," Irene demanded.

"Yes, mistress, sorry mistress," Tracy murmured.

"Speak up, slut," Irene shouted, and smacked her ass. "Don't spill your filthy fluids over my floors, either," Irene said, poking her in the ribs, with a sharp heel "Otherwise, you'll lick them up off the floor," she warned.

"Yes, mistress, sorry mistress," Tracy whined.