Lowest of the Low

I heard the beep his cell phone makes when it makes a call. Master said "Yeah...she's all secure. Come on in!" My eyes went wide. Who is coming? And I am "secure"? For what? I pulled on my wrists, but they barely moved. I tried to get Master's attention to ask the questions I had. "Mmmmmm?" I realized I had no choice in the matter, and a minute later, the front door opened.

I heard Master have a conversation with a guy whose voice I didn't know. "Hey! Glad you could make it! Do you have everything? The bitch is in the dining room."

I cringed as he referred to me as "the bitch". How humiliating and dehumanizing! Not even a name, just "the bitch"

The visitor responded. "I got everything. I also brought a 6-pack of Raging Bitch beer. It seemed appropriate." I heard the man setting something up behind me. I suddenly felt so vulnerable. I stayed quiet and hoped the guy would just gawk at my exposed ass.

After a minute, I felt a finger pushing on my ass. It was lubed, and slipped inside, wiggling in and out, twirling all about. No foreplay, no "Hi! My name is Bill!" – whoever he was saw me as something to be used. Not someone, but something; just a sexual toy. I was like the centerpiece at a dinner party – an object to be enjoyed. As quickly as the finger came in, it was withdrawn. Then two fingers slipped in, and started wiggling. "Ah! What a tight one! She's starting postion is a tight end...but with enough training, she may wind up being a wide receiver!"

My eyes went wide at the joke, but Master chuckled. I felt oh so vulnerable and exposed – showing off my ass to some guy who seemed to delight in stretching it? Training? Tormenting?

He withdrew his fingers, but the relief was short lived. A few seconds later, something larger pushed on my ass. It also felt very slippery, as if it had been lubricated. I tried to relax and let it in – I heard it would be easier that way. It slowly slid in, I was surprised that my ass closed around it – it was something about the size of a golf ball. A second ball was then pushed in, pushing the first one in deeper. I tried to squirm away, to push into the pad on the table. I moved so little that they might not have even noticed my attempt. The ball was gently slid in, and I felt my ass crest around the largest part before it was slowly allowed to close. A third ball followed, pushing the two previous balls further in. As that one was going in, whoever was doing this wiggled them a bit – the balls were connected on some stick! A fourth ball was started in, but then stopped about halfway. I felt some futzing with what must be the end of the post coming out of my ass, which wiggled the balls inside of me. I grunted from the feeling; I'm not used to anything up there moving!

I felt the stick being slowly withdrawn, and I smiled in relief behind my gag. My sphincter closed after the one ball, opened for the next one, and closed. Just a few more, and this indignity would be over. The third ball popped out of my ass, and then the last started to leave. And it stopped. And then it went back in. I let out a "Mmmmm!" of protest. I was almost free of this stick! Each ball followed, each forcing my ass open for it. As the fourth ball hit the widest point, the process was immediately reversed – each ball slowly leaving my ass, thankfully emptying it. As the first ball hit the widest point, the knobby rod smoothly reversed direction. Then it hit me. It was a smooth transition; too smooth. This thing is a freakin' machine! My ass is getting fucked ball by ball, and this damn bastard is just watching? I whimpered as my sphincter contracted around another ball.

I heard the visitor open a beer. "Ain't this the life? Sharing a brew with an old friend...grabbing some tit...and watching a bitch gets its ass ravaged." He plopped his hand right over my boob and started blatantly groping it, not caring at all how I felt. He ran his hand over it, grabbing it again and again to make it wiggle and wobble. I caught a flash of thumb in my vision, but other than that, I was absolutely helpless to even know who this guy was.

Master's friend started to explain anal training to Master as the balls relentlessly cycled between thrusting in and out of my ass. "See how the bitch's ass contracts around each ball? It even tries to grip the post between the balls. That is a really tight virgin ass. You'll see how different it is later on. Damn...this is a pretty sight. A tight ass gleaming and glistening as it is exercised ." I whimpered as the rod of balls was going in and out of my ass at about a ball every two seconds.

Master exclaimed "Oh! I should point out a nice feature of the setup..." I heard something that sounded like vinyl on vinyl squeaking just an inch or so from my left ear. As his voice became muffled on that side, I could tell that he must have plugged the hole that cradled my ear with some vinyl covered foam. Another squeak next to my right ear, and the only clear noise that I heard was the hum of whatever machine was obscenely thrusting that damned pole of balls in and out of my ass. I couldn't really hear any distinct conversation.

The friend started to casually flick my nipples back and forth with a finger. My dangling boob was just something to fidget and play with as he chatted about...whatever they were talking about. His finger started a rhythm, and with it, started my boob swinging in time with his finger, which kept hitting my boob, and sliding across my nipple before it slid away.

I felt so helpless, yet turned on. I was dreadfully mortified about being thrust up the ass with what might be golf balls by some machine as people watched, yet the utter submission excited me. It wasn't physical excitement from the casual groping of my boob or the balls going in and out of my ass. I couldn't deny that the situation stirred something deep inside of me. What was it? I was tied to the table, and reduced to little more than a table centerpiece. I couldn't hear the conversation, let alone join in. I was a helpless thing that was being displayed. And yet it was erotic to somewhere in my psyche.

As time went on ass was feeling exhausted. The constant slippery open, close, open, close rhythm had just worn it out. I now felt as if my ass was just staying open as the balls slowly flowed in and out. It just couldn't be bothered to keep closing, as if it was too much work.

Suddenly the fucking piston speeded up. It was now putting a ball in or out of my ass about once per second. I tried squirming away, it became perfectly clear that I had no choice – I was to be thrust as they wanted, when they wanted. The piston kept going at the new faster speed, relentlessly thrusting in and out.

Then suddenly the piston stopped. The final ball was removed from my ass, and it was finally empty for the first time in what felt like a long time. It was so tired, as if it had run an anal marathon.

After a few minutes, I heard a pair of squeaks next to my ears, and could finally hear Master's voice as he ran a hand down my back. "Damn! You are one hot bitch! I just loved seeing those balls in and out of your ass all night. And all of the talk of the different ways I could train your ass damn inspired me." I felt something pushing at my ass. It wasn't more golf balls. It was longer and softer. And as it slowly slipped in my anus, I realized that it was Master's penis. I must have quite inspired him!

It slid in deep. Master gave a deep guttural groan as his pubic hair pressed against my butt. He started to slide out, and eagerly thrust back in again, pushing all the air from my lungs in a "Hmmmpph!" He gasped as he grabbed my hips. He held on for dear life as he pounded in again, his penis impaling on my open ass. My hands grasped open air. My ankles tugged on their restraints, but he pounded all the more. I was grateful that he had loosened me up during dinner!

He was rocking my body, shoving it forward with each thrust. The base of my boobs was still held quite firmly by the table, giving each a yank with every thrust. I think my helpless muffled cries were only serving to encourage him to redouble his effort. His hard penis slid in and out of my expanded hole until he rammed it as hard as he could deep inside my ass. It was as if he was dancing to beat with an increasingly urgent tempo.

He gripped my hips tightly, and jiggled on my ass. Then I felt his load working up his penis, spurting out the tip as he spasmed. With a loud groan, he shot warm cum shooting deeper and deeper inside of my bowels. After his load was splattered inside of my ass, he collapsed in an exhausted panting heap of hormonal bliss, laying on top of me.

My boobs were throbbing from the tugging. I felt like such a sex toy; just a faceless ass to be fucked. While I felt so used, I also felt a sense of joy; I served Master well! He was so pleased with me that he orgasmed! I smiled and enjoyed the feeling of his body up against me.

After a few minutes, he regained his composure, but still grinning in his post-orgasmic bliss. "Oh yes, my dear bitch...I know you will be visiting your family starting tomorrow. I hope your muffled speech reminds you of your life with me. And when you come back, you will have a surprise for that ass."

Chapter 5 – Meeting Miss – Friday, December 23rd

The next day, Master was at work, and I had finished packing. My bus trip back to visit my folks and my friends Debbie and Sue wasn't for a few hours, so I was in the living room, just doing some straightening up. I heard the front door open, and someone walked in. Their heels clicked on the stone floor. Before I could crawl over to see who it was, the woman from two nights ago was towering over me. She laid my laptop down on the table.

"I did to your laptop what I did to my dad's. First of all, I got all of your friends and family's email addresses. With the photos I have of you from dad's computer...well, if you don't behave, your parents will get photos that won't make it to their Christmas card...and video that they can't un-see."

My face dropped. My parents knew nothing about how I was living, and something like that would just kill them. Debbie knew of my lisp, but nothing of the fetishistic submission. I had only texted Sue since coming here, she may not even know the full extent of my lisp.

This lady had me by the goonies, and she was going to milk it however she wanted. She continued, smirking as her dominant position was drilled into me. "I put some spywear on your computer. Keep the webcam pointed somewhere interesting. You don't want me to get bored."

I looked at my laptop. It used to be a friend, a way to stay in contact with my former life. Odd how I thought of my life before Master like it was so separate. I would be traveling back there later today. I was in a swirl of emotions about returning, and making a vanilla façade when my life was now anything but vanilla. But my laptop was now a spy, another control mechanism. And this bitch had all of the ways to push my buttons.

As this reality was sinking in, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I was still in a daze as she snapped it around my wrist, She started leading me and I followed like a rag doll or mindless bimbo. She brought me to the post at the end of the railing, and cuffed my hands behind my back around it.

I looked up at her. It made me feel so secondary and almost trivial to be kneeling, having to crane my neck just to see her face. With just a smirk, she turned and walked away, leaving me helplessly trapped. I opened my mouth to complain, but then thought of the pictures and my parents. My mouth closed without a word being said.

She started looking through the house. I don't know if she was looking for anything specific, but she came back with a bag that held something. She stooped before me, and grabbed hold of my bra. Without any seduction or subtlety, she lifted it to let my boobs hang free. She would take what she wanted when she wanted it, and didn't care that I wasn't aroused.

She pulled out some rubber bands that had been tied one on top of the other with dental floss. The loose ends of the floss dangled out like a cat's whiskers. She stretched the rubber bands out with her hands, and grabbed my left breast, sliding the bands onto it. I winced as they snapped on. She then grabbed another set of rubber bands, spread them out, and snapped them onto my right breast.

She looked down at me in a cruel smile. "Bimbo, you like games right? The rules will be simple enough for even you to understand. Would you like to play?"

This was only going to end badly for me, but saying "no" would only make it worse. "Yeth Mith. I love gameth." (Yes Miss. I love games)

My horrific lisp seemed to catch her off guard. She hesitated, and then gently pushed my jaw. "Open wide."

I opened my mouth and she cooed happily "A tongue crib! You have a tongue crib! I had one of those growing up. I hated the damn thing. And yours looks a lot larger. It totally mangles your speech. It serves you right. I hope it stays in there permanently."

"Now the game. Truth or Dare is too complex for stupid bimbos to understand, so we'll play Truth or Consequences. One person asks a question, and if the other person doesn't answer truthfully, there are consequences." As she spoke, I could see the false veneer of cheerfulness melting off, revealing her wicked underbelly. "I'll start. OK Bimbo, first question...Why did you seduce a married man away from his wife?"

I looked up at her in confusion. "Whah? I thithnh theduth a marrieh man. Who?" (What? I didn't seduce a married man. Who?)

She pinched of the strands of dental floss sticking out from the bands around my boobs. She pulled it out, stretching the rubber band. She then smugly let it snap back into place, squeezing my breast.

"Owww!" I leapt from the sting and surprise. What started out as amateur cat whiskers on my boobs were now calling out, begging her to torture my poor boobs.

She chucked and smirked all the more, apparently quite pleased with herself. "You know, I'm happy that you're a lying bimbo. I really am." As she talked, she grabbed another floss strand from my other breast. My eyes got wide and I panted nervously as it she slowly pulled it further and further out. "Because if you came clean too early, I might feel guilty about doing THIS!" She happily let go of the floss, and the band snapped harshly against my breast.

"Owww!" I looked down at my breasts, not sure what I expected to see. Unfortunately with my arms locked behind me, it looked as if they were sticking out proudly, almost begging for more abuse. I tried to suck them in, but I just couldn't.

She picked a different floss strand, and started pulling. My eyes got wider and I tried to plead with her. "Pleath honth mith! Thonh hurth me." (Please don't Miss! Don't hurt me."

"Oh, you have no idea." She let it go, calmly smiling as she watched my reaction.

I yelled as it stung harshly into my breast, and started to blather anything that came to mind. It was like a stream of consciousness to try to dissuade my psycho bitch tormentor as she was still ramping up. "Leally! He wathnh marrieth wheth we meth! Ith wah thoo ath a half yearth ago ath we were othlith ith Thecoh Life ath he came up ath wath tho nith ath theh we fouh ouh thah we were othly thoo hourth away from each other, tho we meh.." (Really! He wasn't married when we met! It was two and a half years ago and we were online with Second Life and he came up and was so nice and then we found out that we were only two hous away from each other, so we met)

I was watching as she held a rubber band stretched, ready to strike at any moment. This one was pulled out even further than the other ones. I felt like I was a volleyball in mid air, lightly wafting helplessly, yet knowing that someone was coming to spike me down as hard as they could. I stammered on pleading with puppy dog eyes "He wath divorthed then mith! No womehs clotheth here ah all!" (He was divorced then Miss! No women's clothes here at all!)

Her amused smug smirk never faded as she let the floss go, and the rubber bands whipping into my unprotected breast with a loud "SNAP!" I cried out, as she went on. "OK, so it wasn't you who pried him away, but it was another brainless bimbo. You would have if you would have had the chance. She lightly grabbed my boobs just over the devious rubber bands with her manicured nails. "When my parents divorced, I felt very hurt. I had anger issues at school." As she spoke, she started to clench her hands, digging her long, manicured nails into my poor flesh. I grit my teeth and started to whimper. Didn't she know that hurt? Then I understood – she has boobs. She knows exactly how much it hurts. That's why she's doing it. She continued her explanation. "You know, I went though years of counseling for my anger issues. And yet, punishing another bimbo's boobs feels far more therapeutic than anything that they did."

She suddenly stopped and took on an expression of mock sorrow. "Oh. Am I hurting you?" Even though she was a poor actor, what could I do? I had to play along. I nodded helplessly. "Yeth mith! Her boobth hurth tho bah!" (Yes Miss! Her boobs hurt so bad!)

"Oh. Because divorce hurts more like this." She twisted her hands, trying to unscrew my boobs with her nails dug in. I screamed. She chuckled and finally let go. I tried to rub my boobs to comfort them, but was that did nothing but tug on the handcuffs.

There was a pause. I realized my opportunity "OK. My thurh tho athk a quethhon. Whah ith your thame?" (OK. My turn to ask a question. What is your name?)

She seemed offended at my spunkiness before the false veneer of a caring, but condescending smile was put over her face. "Oh you stupid bitch, you don't understand the rules of this simple game. It's still my turn." She lightly slapped my face. I instinctively tried to protect my face with my hands, but the cuffs still held them firmly behind me. She giggled and slapped my face again, and then a third time just to drive in the point. I understood perfectly. I would do as she said, when she said – or else. She paused and smiled. "You know, it feels right to slap a bimbo's face." She then lightly slapped my face again, then on the other side with her backhand. I could do nothing but kneel there and take it. I felt so helpless, but I also had an urgent need.

"Mith? Cah ts pthethe uthe the bathroom Mith?" (Miss? Can Tits please use the bathroom Miss?)

She looked down at me and smiled. "Why of course!" She promptly knelt down and released my wrist cuffs. As she released my ankles, I was wondering why she was suddenly willing to happy help. Was there a warm caring person behind the cruel and hard exterior? Was she a schizophrenic, with two distinct personalities? Either way, I was happy to be free, and crawled naked to the bathroom.

I entered the half bath. The vanity with its honey oak veneer and a mirror that took up the rest of the tiny wall was on the left, but I went to the porcelain throne to the right. She followed me right into the bathroom, and hopped up on the vanity, typing away at my laptop. "Don't pee without permission you stupid bimbo."

Miss wasn't being kind to release me. I had just provided her with another avenue of humiliation. As she typed, she barked out commands without even looking up. "Open your legs!" "Wider! As wide as you can." I complied with her every word and the commands kept coming. "Put your hands behind your head." "Elbows back, and chest thrust out." I sat there feeling horrendously exposed as she typed.

She finished and held the laptop to where I could read the screen. "OK. Get your eyes open wide. Smile! Read what I wrote, and remember - If you perform like the brainless bimbo we know you are, I'll let you pee! If you don't, I will give you a corrective punishment, and you'll have to start again." Her smile widened, sending shivers down my spine and raising goose bumps all over. It seemed she was looking forward to the "corrective punishment".