Slut 46 Ch. 01

Note: You do not have the right to use or publish this story without my permission. This story is fiction and I do not condone blackmail or non-consensual behavior. This story is also unedited, so keep that in mind. If it gets enough attention, I will edit it and write more chapters.

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"For the next two weeks your name is Slut 46. We'll often refer to you just as 'number forty six' or 'forty six.' Nothing about you is important to us. The only thing we care about is how well your body pleases us. And you will please us. Every one of your slutty holes will be used for our pleasure. Over and over and again and again." Kyle paused his briefing for a moment to let her take it in. He watched her body language closely.

Slut 46 was listening intently but she was too afraid to make any eye contact. She was kneeled on the carpet, still clothed, hands behind her back, hoping this was some kind of bad dream. But she knew it wasn't. Her eyes fluttered as she desperately tried to hold back her tears. Her body shivered. Her real name was Amanda Kitner and she was being blackmailed into sexual service.

Amanda was a senior undergrad student at the University of Oregon. She was petite, standing about 5'3" and weighing only 130 pounds. She kept her body fit through dancing. She loved to dance - in dance class, at the club, in her room, in the shower, wherever. Being born and raised in Oregon, she had fair white skin. Her rosy cheeks complimented her soft features well. Soft dirty-blonde hair, soft skin, soft blue eyes, and a soft smile. She walked with a certain confidence, knowing that she had a life worth living. She had a good internship with the State, got plenty of attention from boys, and was doing pretty well in school. But she had been struggling with her Calculus for Business class, which was a requisite of her economics major. The subject matter of the class was understandably difficult, but the class was also taught by Julian Borisov, a tenured professor reputable for being one of the toughest graders on campus. He never gave breaks to anyone, ever. Amanda had ducked the class her sophomore and junior years, and had no choice but to enroll in the Fall semester of her senior year. Despite being a senior, she still struggled in the class. When it came time for the final, she barely had a passing grade. So she did what many people do in times of desperation: she looked for a shortcut.

Professor Borisov only allowed students to walk into the final with a drink, a snack, and two pencils. But Amanda had snuck written notes in all of her pockets. The notes were mostly examples of common proofs that could be used as a template for the questions and hypotheticals that were on the test. On the days leading up to the final, she practiced slipping the notes out and reading them without drawing any attention. And the preparation seemed to pay off. With the help of her notes she walked out of the test room feeling confident. She checked her grade online a week later to see a passing "C" as a final grade, which meant she had aced the final. But the day after she saw her grade, she received an ominous phone call from a man named Kyle, who explained who he was and that he required a meeting the next morning.

Kyle was a 36 year-old audio/video technician that worked for the University. He was a little over 6 feet tall and had a muscular build. He was the outdoorsy type - spending his spare time camping, backpacking and fishing. He had soft brown hair that he kept fairly short, and brownish eyes that turned a hint of green when light shined them the right way. His beard was always scruffy and his hair unkempt. Clean cut was not his style; he was the rugged type. And, having a shaky moral foundation himself, he was incredibly good at his job of finding cheaters. Between one and three students were expelled from the University every year for cheating. Most of the other cheating students were punished with only academic probation. As an A/V technician, Kyle's job was to make sure the lecture halls were properly equipped with audio and video capabilities. He would record certain lectures for impaired students or even for students that were ill and couldn't afford to miss a lecture. He prepared rooms for PowerPoint presentations, movies, or whatever other audio or video needs a professor might need. But during Finals week, Kyle's job was to maintain the hidden cameras in all of the rooms, and then scan the video footage for evidence of cheating. He alone had the power to bring forth video evidence to the Board of Academic Misconduct, or to make sure it never saw the light of day.

During his eight years at the university, video evidence of cheating had not made it to the Board of Academic Misconduct 45 times. Forty five female students had decided they would rather let their bodies be sexually abused by Kyle than risk being expelled. It helped that Kyle knew exactly what he was doing. He would only proposition seniors. Seniors were at the home stretch. By the time Fall semester finals came around, seniors had invested 3.5 years' worth of time and money. And they were so close to graduating. Expulsion disallowed any credits to be transferred to any other school and the incident would appear on a permanent record. The student would have to start all over as an incoming freshman, if another school would even accept them, which would be unlikely. And Kyle always made it clear that he would ensure that all of her friends and family would be made aware of the misconduct and expulsion. To show he was serious, he would hand the student a list of her family and friends, sometimes with addresses and phone numbers if he had time to research it. At this point, he had the blackmail down to a science.

When he had called Amanda two days ago, he only asked that she come into his office to discuss her Calculus final. She had broken into tears as soon as she hung up the phone. She could imagine no other scenario other than that she was caught. She didn't sleep at all that night and stumbled into Kyle's office the next morning tired and scared. When she came in he didn't say a word, and instead he just showed her the highlight reel. Both remained silent for the 5-minute "presentation." He then explained that her pre-meditated cheating was guaranteed expulsion. This wasn't a case of on-the-spot panic, with a glance or two at a peer's test. She had a calculated plan to cheat, all in plain sight of the camera.

But he gave her an out: "There's a way out of this. I can delete this video and nobody will ever see it." Amanda's eyes perked up. "I'll just be frank with you. I'm a guy. I like sex. You're a hot young woman that I want to have sex with. So, here's the deal. It's winter break right now and Christmas day isn't for another two and a half weeks. We don't want to rouse suspicion by having you miss Christmas time with your family. So, you'll be my fuck toy for exactly two weeks straight, then this video will never be seen by anyone and you can go on living your life."

As Kyle paused, he saw a confused woman. Her eyebrows were raised in disbelief. Her jaw was open. It was like a dramatic scene out of a Hollywood movie. She had gone over 100 scenarios of how that meeting would turn out, but she hadn't even fathomed a proposition like Kyle's. She still wasn't talking so he explained further "yup, you heard me correctly. I'm blackmailing you for two weeks of sex. You'll be my sex slave. I'm going to give you one day to think about it. If you accept my offer nobody will ever know. You won't be expelled. You won't get academic probation. You'll still pass your calculus class. Your family won't know anything. It will be as if it never happened. I will give you tomorrow to decide whether this is something you want."

"Oh and if you have the brilliant idea to report me for blackmail, you should listen closely. First, by reporting me, you'll force out the fact that you cheated and I'll follow through on all of my promises. You'll be a 22-year old high school graduate. Second, I'll deny it. Even if you do get anyone to listen, you have no evidence. It would be your word against mine and nobody is going to take the cheater's side. So tread very, very carefully."

Kyle looked at his watch. "You have exactly 24 hours to make a decision. I'm sure you have my number still logged on your phone. If I don't hear from you by 9:28am tomorrow, then I'll be showing this video to the Board. There's the door." Kyle broke eye contact and motioned his hand towards the door, dismissing her. Amanda walked out of his office, even more exhausted and scared than before.

For the rest of the day she weighed the pros and cons. Kyle was right, she would be a 22 year-old high school graduate. She had almost no work experience and about $75K in student debt. That debt would not go away even if the university kicked her out and she never got a diploma. Crawling out of that hole would take the better part of her life. But avoiding this situation required whoring herself out to some perverted man who would likely ravage her body nonstop. And what if the two weeks expired and he didn't keep his word and told the Board anyways? She went back and forth for the rest of the day. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind wouldn't let her. Finally, around 8 pm, she decided it was just two weeks of her life and the potential detriment of being expelled was just too much risk. Besides, he was a tech nerd. A few blowjobs and some pussy and he'd probably be satisfied. She called up Kyle and told him she would comply. He gave her an address to write down and told her to meet him there at 9:00am exactly the next day. She fell asleep almost immediately after the phone call ended.

The next morning she showered, ate, dressed in something casual and drove over to Kyle's home. It was a huge home, more like a mini-mansion than something a university A/V technician should be living in. The property was on at least 5 tree-filled acres and there were no other houses within close proximity. She realized nobody would be able to help her here - clearly the reason he chose that spot as the meeting point. Kyle casually told her she will be punished for being 5 minutes late. He walked her inside and asked her to set her purse down and take everything out of her pockets. He then patted her down to make sure there were no hidden electronics. In the past, cheating sluts have tried to record evidence of blackmail. He then walked her to the bedroom, forcefully guided her to a kneeling position, and began briefing her.

And that's where Amanda finds herself at this moment. She took a big gulp and finally spoke up "you keep saying 'we' but..." Kyle raised his voice "do not speak unless asked to speak. That is your second violation of our rules and you will be punished. I suggest you let me finish. Yesterday I said that you will be my fuck toy. If I choose to let my roommates fuck my little slut, then that is what we will do. Besides, you are number 46. They have been around since number 12, so they know the protocol. One of them has the equivalent of my job at the community college and we share all of our girls. We understand discretion. Now shut the fuck up and listen."

"Four people live in this house. Three are male and one is female. I'm one of the men, obviously. I just referred to one of the other men - the A/V tech at Lane Community College. The third man is an old buddy of mine who has a knack for dominating little sluts like yourself. And the woman is a slave who voluntarily lives here to serve us. She was a cheater like you, but decided after her two weeks were up that she wanted to be a permanent fixture. Her name is Number 27. But you will call her 'mam.' She is our slave but your superior and you will respect her as such. You will call all of the men Sir. Every time you speak you will refer to us either as Sir or Mam, depending on who you're speaking to. If you do not, even once, you will be severely punished."

"The kneeling position you are in is called Position 1." While speaking, Kyle walked over to grab a thick, 3-foot long, wooden ruler. "If we ask you to kneel or get in Position 1, this is it." He pushed the ruler against her back and then down on her shoulders. "Thrust your breasts out. Relax your shoulders." He used the end of the ruler to lower her head. "Keep your head lowered and your gaze down. Once you are specifically addressed, then you may look at us and respond." He then used the ruler to spread her knees out. "Your knees are too close. Wider. WIDER." Kyle's commanding voice caused her to comply almost instinctually. "Each hand should be behind your back grasping the other forearm. If you are handcuffed, then your hands may dangle, so long as they are pressed against your butt." Kyle admired his quick handiwork on her posture. "Now you happen to be clothed because I allowed it. In the future, you will be completely nude when you assume any slave position. It doesn't matter what you are doing, or what is going on around you. If you are asked to assume a position, you will stop whatever you are doing, strip naked, and find your proper posture. Again, any violation of this rule will result in punishment."

Amanda started to get nervous. She considered herself fairly adventurous in bed, but this was becoming much more intense than anything she had experienced, read about, or even imagined. Kyle kept referring to severe punishment, but she didn't know what that meant. And the fact that they already had a slave around concerned her as well. This was not some ragtag group, desperate for a quick lay. She had thought she could just spread her legs a few times a day, and after two weeks of getting laid he would be satisfied. But it was now obvious to her that Kyle would not let her off so easily.

Amanda was still in position, her gaze down, trying to make sense of what the future held. Kyle sensed her trepidation but carried on. "Now put your face on the ground." He gave her a little nudge with his foot. Amanda again complied, not knowing what else to do. "Good. Push forward a little bit. Stick out that ass. Present it to me. Now put your arms down past your head, palms on the ground. This is Position 2. You will also fall into this position when we say 'down.'" She felt strange and exposed. Kyle slowly circled her, stalking his prey. "Now, you are owed two separate punishments. Do you remember what for?"

Amanda's fleeting thoughts suddenly converged to the present. She did remember. "I was late and I spoke without being asked to." Kyle smirked. Nobody ever remembers the first "sir." Kyle quickly responded "and you did not address me as Sir. That's three now. For the first two, you didn't know the rules, so you will only receive 10 lashes each. But I just told you how to address me, and you failed. For that, you'll receive 50 lashes. We're going to do 35 on each ass cheek. I'll use the paddle for the left, and the riding crop for the right. Now hold your position down there, but lower your jeans and panties so that your bare ass is exposed for punishment."

Amanda hesitated to go through with his request. Until now, all she had to do was listen and brace herself for the future. But the future had come faster than she expected and she balked at the request. Kyle started counting "One. Two. Three..." The counting increased the adrenaline pumping through Amanda and she decided to act. She moved her hands towards her zipper, unzipped her jeans, and slowly pushed them down to her knees. Then, even slower, she reluctantly lowered her panties. She noticed a moistness in the cotton. She surprised even herself with a little sigh as the cool air touched her exposed holes.

"For three seconds you hesitated to obey. At 10 lashes per second, that's an extra 30. 100 total. Let me re-iterate something that hasn't yet sunk in to you. You are here to serve and obey. Every thought, every movement, every breath, now revolves around our commands. The quicker you come to terms with that, the less you will suffer. Now I don't much enjoy screams of pain, so I'd advise you to contain yourself. This is going to hurt." Kyle reached for a leather paddle that was hung on the wall. Amanda noticed that there were several devices hung on the walls, and at least 10 hooks on the ceiling. Right next to the paddle was the riding crop.

Kyle got on one knee next to Amanda and rubbed the leather paddle over her beautiful ass, savoring the calm before the storm. Lustful thoughts of what he was going to do with her flew through his mind. He very suddenly raised the paddle over his head and brought it down over Amanda's ass, providing no leniency to the newbie. "Oww," Amanda screamed. Again, he slowly rubbed the paddle over her ass and down her back and then dropped another blow. He kept the spankings slow at first, and then when he got to ten, he sped up his pace and spanked her about once every second. This was no funishment. He was giving her ass a beating.

After the first 50 lashes had been administered on her left cheek, she was felt like her ass was on fire. She had always heard the expression that some body part felt like it was "on fire." But she finally understood that the saying actually had merit and was probably coined by someone who had received a thorough paddling. Kyle re-hung the paddle on the wall and grabbed the riding crop. Amanda was desperately trying to hold back her tears but they made their way out as she quietly sniffled and cried.

Kyle repeated a similar technique but this time with the riding crop. The crop provided more of a stinging pain than a deep blow. The pain of the paddle slowly amplified over time. But the sting of each crop blow seemed to hurt twice as hard as the previous blow. By the 50th lash, Amanda was biting her lip, breathing heavily out of her nose, and shutting her eyes as tight as possible - as if that would somehow make everything go away. Kyle had a devious smile on his face; he was a sadist through and through. The outside of his pants revealed wet spots of pre-cum that leaked out. His bulge could barely be contained and it looked like his zipper was going to burst open.

"You may be surprised to hear this, but you did well. Most cheating sluts shy their bodies away from the crop, trying to avoid contact. But you held still. You'd be wise to keep that up. Now I need a release. Come." Kyle hung the riding crop back on the wall, and began walking out. When he peered over his shoulder, he noticed Amanda stand up and begin pulling her jeans back on.

"No!" Kyle commanded. "Pull your jeans back where they were and get back down on the ground." The intensity of his voice scared her and she quickly did as he said. You are not allowed to walk in this house. You will crawl on all fours. You will never put your clothes back on unless we specifically demand it."

Without saying anything else, Kyle walked out the door into the hall. Amanda crawled behind him, slowly at first. But when she crawled out the door, she could no longer see him. She sped her crawl, awkwardly, as her jeans and panties were still wrapped near her knees. When she turned the hall corner towards a giant living space, she noticed Kyle fiddling around with some electronics.

"Position 1 in the center of this rug," Kyle said as he motioned his hand without even looking at her. Amanda slowly crawled towards the middle of the living room carpet and slouched into her kneeling position. It was a grand living room with ample space. The walls were decorated with fine art. The furniture looked expensive and well-tended to. There were a few hallways that led to unknown areas, and a staircase to the second floor. The only visible part of the second floor was a section that overlooked the living room. As he was still playing with his electronics, Kyle raised his eyebrows and gave her a disappointed glance. She responded by relaxing her shoulders and thrusting out her chest. She also grabbed her forearms with her hands like he taught her. Kyle finally lowered his eyebrows, content. He grabbed a tripod and video camera that were laying on the ground, connected the two together, and placed it about 3 feet away from her. As he pressed a few buttons, Amanda noticed a red light turn on. It was recording.