Molly and the New Editor Pt. 03

A dazed Molly looked up at the people clustered around her.

She was naked – they were clothed.

She was on her back atop a waist high padded bench – they were standing around it.

She was trussed up – they were not.

Gwen, her editor and dominatrix, had tied a sort of rope bra on her. One rope crossed her chest above her breasts, while another one crossed below them, leaving them completely exposed. The bra had shoulder straps that passed on either side of her neck.

Down by her waist, Gwen had taken two sets of multi-stranded ropes and tied them into loose loops. She'd also tied similar sets of ropes into loose loops around Molly's thighs just above her knees. The waist ropes were joined, one to each thigh rope, and then sent up at angles through iron rings in the ceiling. This placement forced Molly's knees apart, and bent them up slightly toward her chest.

Gwen had added ropes that ran from the bra shoulder straps up to the supporting ropes, completing the suspension arrangement. A couple of the stronger onlookers had helped pull up the ropes a tiny bit and secure them. Therefore, Molly was resting lightly on her wrists, which were tied together behind her back, beneath her. She'd been like this for perhaps half an hour to an hour. There were no clocks that she could see.

Her pussy lips flanked a hole that was rather raw looking, and bright red. It was still slightly opened, since a cock had recently been pulled out of it. The owner of the cock had deposited his load before withdrawing, evidenced by the white, sticky semen oozing from Molly's ravaged hole. His semen had blended with cum from the other three guys that had fucked her in this position, each using her hard and fast, focused on getting their rocks off inside her, with no regard for her pleasure.

She was here for THEIR pleasure.

She was a gift, a 'party favor' provided by Gwen. Her 'job' today was to be a plaything – entertainment – for the people present, men and women. Maybe naively, she'd agreed to this when Gwen had asked her. They'd met to discuss how Molly's newest stories, ones involving bondage and submission, were being received. During the current respite, Molly cast her mind back to that meeting. She and Gwen were alone in Gwen's office at that time.

"People are giving me glowing reports about your new works, Molly," Gwen had said, congratulating her. "You've really started capturing the essence of these experiences. How has it influenced the way you write?" she'd asked.

Molly misunderstood the question. She blushed and answered, "Now I take off all my clothes before I start writing, to mimic that session with you and Eric. I can tie my legs and thighs to my chair, so I can feel the restraints, too." She hesitated. Then in a softer voice, she confided, "I bought a butt plug, and often have that inside me as I work."

Gwen listened to all this with a wry grin. "You really are a slut at heart, aren't you Molly?" She laughed. "What I meant was, does the writing flow more easily, or are you bogged down as you add all the new details?"

Molly turned crimson. "Oh! It flows much more easily, since I can call up things from memory as I go," she blurted.

"Excellent. So, what's to be your next project?" Gwen inquired.

"Well," Molly started. Her stomach lurched as she contemplated what she wanted to say. Inside her, fear struggled with desire. She looked down at the floor, avoiding Gwen's eyes, and scuffed her toe nervously on the carpet. "I think I'd like the story to... well... to be about a gang-bang, Gwen. Once that idea got into my mind, I can't seem to drive it away."

Gwen sat silently, waiting for Molly to look up and meet her eyes. "Are you asking me to arrange a gang-bang for you, slut girl?" She asked, using a very different voice, a more imperious one.

Molly's throat rippled as she frantically swallowed. "Yes, Miss," she responded automatically, using a very shy voice.

"Should you be sitting comfortably when you ask me for such a favor, slut?" Gwen asked, eyes flashing as her demeanor changed.

Hastily slipping off her chair, Molly crawled around the side of Gwen's desk to enter her line of sight. Sitting back onto her heels, she raised her palms in supplication. "Please, Miss," she begged. "Would you do this for me?" she asked, humbly.

Gwen stared down at the kneeling woman. There was a calculating look on her face, as time dragged on. Molly could not tell if her editor was actually offended by the request, and thinking how best to berate her. Or maybe she was considering it, and going through a mental list of possible participants. Gwen's body language wasn't revealing a thing. Gwen's next statements caught Molly by surprise.

"In their essence, gang-bangs usually involve humiliation of the female, sometimes with violent physical rape. Is this what you want?" Gwen asked, in a straightforward, matter-of-fact manner. "Be honest."

Molly hemmed and hawed, rocking on her heels, feeling her body quiver in reflexive fear, with that word 'violent' hanging in the air. Finally, she shared, "I'm worried about the term 'violent', Miss. I'm scared of injury."

"It's interesting that you didn't take exception to the word 'rape' in my definition," Gwen said with a grin. "But of course, rape indicates lack of consent on your part, and you'd be a willing participant if we do this. So let's focus on the concept of violent behavior. It's true that sometimes when several men gather to make sexual use of a woman, a sort of mob mentality can set in. After a while, one sees another doing something extreme, sees him get away with it, and tries to outdo him with something even more extreme. That's what can lead to injury."

Gwen reached out to stroke Molly's hair. "But I would be there with you, my slut girl. I'd keep things within your limits, and under control if we do this. But what about the aspect of being embarrassed and humiliated in front of a group of people?"

Molly hated to reveal what she was going to say next. "Miss, remember when you and Eric had me tied to that mattress, and those three strangers walked in?" Gwen nodded for her to continue. "There I was, tied and exposed in that obscene manner, with cum oozing out of me. And they walked right up and made all those rude, suggestive observations and comments. I was afraid they'd... well, that they'd... ummm... take advantage of my vulnerability. I was mortified to be seen like that, and yet... and yet... I was half hoping they'd do something to me, and half dreading it. The humiliation of being 'caught' like that..." She paused a moment, gathering her courage to take the verbal plunge, lowered her eyes and face, then finished, "... it actually excited me."

Gwen's hand went from Molly's hair to her chin. She raised the writer's face to look into her eyes. "Your ambivalence about it is promising, girl. Wanting and dreading warring within you. And being restrained and helpless like that. That's a heady mix. You can plead. You can whimper. You can scream. All as others watch. You could safeword, of course, if you feel things are getting too intense. I wonder if you will."

At that moment, Molly realized that things were moving from abstract speculation to actual planning. Miss Gwen was going to make this happen. Molly realized that her panties were damp, just thinking about it. Gwen removed her shoe, telling Molly, "Lick my foot, top and bottom, slut. Don't forget to suckle each toe, too." Molly did a thorough job, so that sealed the deal. There would be a gang-bang.

That was weeks ago.

On the appointed day, Molly was again picked up in Gwen's town car. As she climbed into the rear seat, she found that it was occupied by Gwen, as expected. But Gwen's associate editor, Thomas, was also present. He made Molly sit between the two of them. Gwen asked bluntly, "Did you empty your bladder just before we arrived, as you were told to do?"

Molly, threw a quick glance at Thomas, her face coloring. Looking back at Gwen, she answered meekly,"Yes, Miss."

As the car started moving, Molly had a moment of panic. When this had been discussed in Gwen's office, it was kind of an intellectual exercise to Molly – a fantasy – a pipe-dream. But now they were actually, physically going toward a location where Molly would permit herself to be used and violated by a group of strangers. The reality was causing a visceral reaction, invoking the primitive 'fight or flight' mode. Her breathing accelerated, and sweat beads started forming on her brow.

Gwen pressed a button which caused an opaque partition to rise up between them and the chauffeur, giving the three of them privacy as they traveled. Gwen held up a skimpy white bikini, and a dark leather collar. "Take off every stitch of your clothing, girl, and put these on." Her tone of voice indicated that she wouldn't take kindly to any balking or refusal.

Molly felt the first tingling of embarrassment as she wiggled on that rear seat, trying to get out of her clothing, sandwiched between the two editors. They stared at her as her breasts came into view, and continued to stare as she slipped off her panties to complete her disrobing. They watched, but did not touch her, as she stepped into the bikini bottoms, and slid them up her legs, scooping them under her butt, and into place. She was moving fast, not wanting to remain naked too long, since cars were passing them on either side, and the rear windows were not tinted very much. In fact, she covered her breasts with her hands as a car passed, and the faces of two curious women peered in, briefly. Ducking her head into the neck loop of the bikini top, Molly leaned forward to tie its spaghetti strings behind her back. She brought the leather collar to her neck, and blindly worked its tongue through its buckle, securing it.

Thomas clipped a short dog leash onto the metal ring of the collar, and let the rest of the leash dangle between Molly's tits. Gwen pressed the button again, and the opaque partition slid down out of sight, allowing the driver to see Molly's image in the rear view mirror. As he did so, he caught sight of what had formerly been a fully dressed woman, now sitting wearing only a bikini, with a dog leash attached to a collar around her neck. Molly wasn't positive, but she thought that the surprised driver might've allowed the car to swerve slightly at that moment.

When they reached the nondescript building where the festivities were to take place, Molly feared that she'd be required to walk from the car to the building barefoot, dressed only in a bikini. As it turned out, she did have to walk barefoot, but at the last moment, Gwen provided Molly with a full-length trench coat to wear during that brief journey. However, before the two editors helped her into the trench coat, Thomas secured Molly's wrists behind her using a plastic zip tie. He then put the coat around her and buttoned it to keep it from sliding off her shoulders.

Eric opened the building's door, as before, in answer to their ring. As soon as they were all inside, Thomas unbuttoned and removed Molly's trench coat, while Gwen took control of the dog leash attached to her collar. She held Molly in position, as Thomas knelt down and attached a rope between Molly's knees. Tying her knees close together like this hobbled her, allowing her to only take short, mincing steps as she tried to move forward. Thomas followed behind them both as Gwen triumphantly led Molly by her leash out of the dimly lit entryway and into the brightly lit room beyond.

To Molly's dazzled eyes, there seem to be quite a few people in the room. She felt goosebumps forming on her arms from a blend of fear, mixed with a tiny bit of excitement. Gwen stopped her in the center of the room, turned to face her, and said, "Eric will free your wrists now." There was a loud 'snip' sound, and the zip tie fell to the floor. "Shake out your wrists, and return circulation to them," Gwen continued. Gratefully, Molly did so, looking down at the floor as she shook her hands down on either side of her hips. After a few minutes, Gwen said to her loudly, "Everything here is voluntary. If you want to experience what we've discussed, demonstrate your consent by placing your hands behind your back, where they'll be bound again."

The room was so quiet at that moment, you could hear the proverbial 'pin drop'. Molly knew all eyes were on her, seeing what she would do. Her moment of decision – the moment of truth. Fear built up within her, since she now had some idea of the number of onlookers. And would they all participate, or would some only watch? She didn't know. She thought about how she'd feel if she passed up this opportunity, though. She trusted Gwen, and she sort of trusted Thomas. Slowly she moved her hands behind herself, and felt the first loops of rope being applied as the crowd signaled their approval. Once her wrists were sturdily tied together, Gwen pulled on the leash and started making Molly walk, placing her on display for the people present.

And most, if not all of them, erupted into catcalls as they saw her led around the periphery of the room. The bawdy comments made her want to shrink from sight. This small journey took quite some time, walking with such careful, tiny steps. As they completed the first circuit, Thomas used a device like a seltzer dispenser to spray cold water onto all three parts of the bikini. Molly felt her nipples instantly harden from the shock of the cold water. Shivering slightly, she glanced downward at them, and was stunned to see that the water had also turned the bikini material virtually transparent. Her nipples were on display through the cloth, and she had no doubt that her pussy was similarly visible.

This was confirmed as Gwen paraded Molly around the room a second time. This time, the rude, raucous comments got even more personal as people share their opinions about her tits and cunt. Molly looked mainly at the floor and Gwen's back, not wanting to see the facial expressions of these strangers. She tried hard to keep her breathing under control, and concentrated on not falling down.

When that trip was completed, Eric was given the honor of snipping off Molly's bikini top. During this topless walk around the room, Gwen stopped Molly every few feet, to give the crowd the opportunity to fondle and otherwise test the firmness of Molly's tits. Everyone, male and female alike, seemed eager to do so. Now Molly was virtually forced to make eye contact as she was pawed by the men and women. "Oh, we're really gonna have fun with this one!" one guy chortled.

As they return to the starting point, Gwen herself wielded the scissors at the side panels of Molly's bikini bottoms, allowing the damp cloth to fall away. Molly swallowed hard in dismay. With her wrists tied behind her back, she couldn't cover her most intimate of areas, even though every instinct in her body told her that she should. As she was led around, once again all of the onlookers were given the opportunity to fondle the area that had been freshly revealed – her crotch. However, tied together as her knees were, her thighs were pressed together so tightly that people could only superficially 'cop a feel' down there. That was soon to change.

Gwen pulled on Molly's leash, and led her submissive slut over to a rectangular padded table whose top was about waist high. She pushed Molly into a position that resulted in her being bent over the table, and held her there as someone untied her knees. Her left leg was lifted sideways until it was stretched out along the top of the table. Her ankle was seized, and Molly looked left and watched Eric tie her ankle in that position, the rope disappearing off the left edge of the table. She was now awkwardly balanced on her right leg, with her hands still secured behind her back. Ropes soon tied her right leg into place beneath her, stabilizing her.

Her torso was lifted by her shoulders enough to allow Thomas to apply plastic tubes, one to each nipple. The tubes had the air pumped out of them by a metallic squeeze pump, which he operated by hand. The suction was strong enough that it drew her entire areola, plus its central nipple, well up into the barrel of the tube. Molly watched the strange deformation of the shape of her tit as the strong suction caused a small but definite pain. When the pump had been detached, cords were attached to loops at the tip of each tube, and tied over the forward edge of the table so that Molly's tits and torso were stretched out atop the table, making lifting her body next to impossible.

Molly took stock of her current situation. Naked. Securely tied to the table. Nipples on her tits being sucked by the plastic tubes. Pussy and ass lewdly open and defenseless on one side of the table. Her head practically hanging off the other side. And the people then... left her like that!

They seemingly ignored her, heading for snacks and drinks, leaving her on display. Time passed. Maybe 15 minutes. Maybe half an hour. Molly rested on the table top as best she could, trying to take the strain off her legs. She could lift her head, but not for long, and no one was in her field of view in that direction. Everyone was behind her. She wasn't sure if anyone was even looking at her, but she imagined they were. She imagined they were planning what to do with her. Her mind raced at the possibilities. In spite of her uncomfortable position, her pussy drooled slightly.

Molly became alert when Gwen approached, her arrival signaled by her unique scent. "A present for you, slut," she whispered, slipping a blindfold over Molly's eyes and securing it to the back of her head. Molly was in total darkness as she heard the shuffling of feet, some coming closer. The anticipation was thrilling agony.

She heard voices close behind her. "Look how engorged her pussy lips are now. She must like being on display!", "See? I told you she was wet!", "What a nasty whore, trussed up like that!", "Smell that cunt of hers." She could tell their faces were close to her pussy, because she could feel the puffed air from their breath, feel the touch of their hair on her thighs, and was aware of the heat radiated by their faces. In her life, very few people had ever seen her naked, and now a whole crowd of strangers were getting intimate looks at her sexual region! She almost fainted from shame, her heart pumping so fast that it made her dizzy.

Comments continued, but now people were actually touching her. Their hands were at her hair, her back, and her ass cheeks. People were fingering her labia, commenting on their texture, puffiness, stretch-ability, and smell. Fingers entered her pussy, exploring, checking her depth, gathering fluids, murmuring comments like, "Look how sticky her pussy juice is!", "It's so easy to get a finger-full – see?", "Are you tasting that?", "Feed me some." She couldn't tell really if the fingers belonged to men or women, but comments were uttered by both sexes.

When someone unexpectedly touched her sensitive ass hole, Molly jerked up, and the suction tubes pulled painfully on her tits, making her wince and whimper. Gwen's voice sounded in her ear, "What's the matter, slut? Don't want your ass hole touched?"

Molly whispered into the darkness, "They can touch it, Miss. I was just startled."

Gwen retorted, "Well, my little bitch, if you want them to play with your ass hole, tell them! Speak up! Tell them why you're here today!"

Molly mentally moaned with dismay. But she knew why she was there. She didn't want to voice it explicitly, but she was now required to do so. Her throat went dry, and she had to swallow several times to speak. "I'm a gift from Miss Gwen," she squeaked. "I'm here for you to play with, and use for your pleasure. All..." her voice dried up to a whisper. She swallowed again, and spoke into the darkness, "All three of my holes are available for your use. Miss Gwen specifically brought me here to experience a gang-bang." Heart fluttering, she was proud that her voice solidified at the end.