The Collective: Whitney's Comeuppance
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by LOAnnie2

Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Bitchy coed learns a lesson in humility at the hands of the Collective.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Blackmail   Coercion   Rape   BDSM   MaleDom   Humiliation   Rough   Anal Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism  

The flash of the camera was quickly followed up with a wail from the girl. I wasn’t too surprised that the eighteen-year-old didn’t like the idea of having a complete stranger take pictures of her nude body. I was sure it was something the uptight little bitch wouldn’t even let boyfriends consider, but that wasn’t my problem, I simply didn’t care what she thought.

I snapped more pictures with the camera, making sure to catch every detail of the cocktease’s body. The recently graduated teen had a killer body–the perfect handful sized breasts topped with half-dollar sized areolae and eraser-sized nipples that already stood at attention (the room wasn’t cold at all), a taut stomach accented even more by her arms being handcuffed above her head, long athletic legs and truly a heart shaped ass I could enjoy looking at forever. Of course thanks to the pictures I will.


It all started three months earlier, shortly after I had changed coffee shops in early March. Most of the baristas were forgettable, but two stood out. The most obvious was Whitney, the juicy little piece I now had secured and naked before me. My sixth day attending my new shop happened to be Whitney’s eighteenth birthday, and she was being forced to work it. She was miserable being forced to work on what she considered to be a ‘very important birthday’, and naturally she made sure that everyone else would be as miserable as well.

I typically wouldn’t consider myself to be one of those pain in the ass customers (though that will change tonight), my orders were always very simple compared to most patrons, but apparently a spiced chai latte and a slice of coffee cake was too much for the birthday girl to handle. No smile, bitchy attitude the entire time she was preparing my order, practically ripping the credit card out of my hand as I made to pay, and unlike every other barista, she was too good to bring my order to me when they weren’t busy.

She seemed like a girl who wouldn’t last long, but she had two things working for her–that she was a smoking hot brunette, and the manager was only a year older than her and she’d shamelessly flirt with him to get out of trouble. Those rare times that she wasn’t wearing a scowl her face was actually quite lovely, not to mention the body, but it was the personality that just killed any illusion of the girl.

I figured out her M.O. by observing her during my few hours I spent in the shop working every day. She’d date a lot of guys and string them along, only the tease of putting out while she got their attention, affection, and gifts. I quickly got the impression that she was one of those girls who’d give head to avoid having to put out completely, and soon after she used her mouth to forestall sex she’d dump the guy and be in the arms of another. Plus the aforementioned flirting with the manager, and many of the one-shot customers to try and increase her tips.

The coffee shop wasn’t all bad–the coffee itself was pretty good, it was quiet, and there’s the other girl who stood out. Only three days earlier she had surprised me by being so attentive.


“Do you need anything else sir?”

I looked up a little started for a moment, my train of thought being interrupted by the sweet voice of the newest barista, Melissa. She had been cleaning up other tables and like most of the girls checked on me when she was working near me. With a smile I reached for my wallet and grabbed a ten. “I think a refill and another slice of coffee cake. Keep the change Melissa.”

The short-haired redhead smiled warmly and replied, “Right away sir,” before scurrying off to fill my order. She’d only started working in the shop for a month, the Monday after her and Whitney graduated from high school, but she already had a reputation as the nicest and most helpful girl in the shop. Melissa wasn’t the most attractive girl to look at, rather plain (especially compared to Whitney), but she had a quiet cuteness to her.

I opened my laptop and sent my TOR browser to the Collective’s website. Those featured on it would never know that the worst moments of their lives were documented for any member to see at their leisure. I always sat in a corner seat where I could look out into the whole room and have as much privacy as a public setting afforded you. Even though she was working I couldn’t help but look for Melissa again. Admittedly, I thought when she started working at the coffee shop that her niceness seemed a little faked, even a little forced. If things had been a little different it might be Melissa standing nude before me, but the website prevented that.

Her name tag simply read ‘Melissa D’, but it was quite obvious that she was the girl listed under Melissa Devaux. The site made it quite clear why the teenager exuded false niceties with even the slight hint of nervousness–the same weekend that I started at the coffee shop two candidates had smuggled poor Melissa into a back office at a local mall and taken her ass against her will. Her page had all the reported details of the experience--the tools they used, that they made Melissa orgasm during her first assfuck, and of course pictures. Everything was there, from the obligatory picture of her id pressed into her spread ass cheeks, how they tied her down to the desk, a picture of her face as she felt her virgin ass pried open, and even some nice after shots that the poor girl probably didn’t realize were taken.

Melissa returned with my drink and the coffee cake with a smile, completely unaware that just below her smiling face was a picture of her with a buttplug in her mouth and a pained expression on her face.

“Thank you Melissa, that’ll be all,” I told her and she turned and headed off, I moved the profile page up and looked at the id picture of her ass, seeing her pussy and her tiny rosebud minutes before it had been pried open. It was tempting, but I’d grown to appreciate Melissa a little more.


This relates back to Whitney, as she further enraged me just minutes later. She was complaining, this time chewing out Melissa for not sharing the tip that I had given her. It was irony though as Whitney never shared hers. She probably felt she was entitled to it–after all Whitney was the one who was saddled with training Melissa. They had apparently been rivals in high school or something, there was a very strong dislike between the two. Whitney took the opportunity to make Melissa’s work life miserable, so my knowledge that Melissa had already had her ass violated by the group, combined with seeing Whitney treat her like shit made me much less sympathetic toward Whitney.

I had to laugh as I took Whitney’s ID out of my pocket and took a close-up picture of it as well before pocketing it once more--I’d get to the obligatory pic in a little bit. I knew exactly what was going through her head, she was in the coffee shop when the mayor’s press conference came on the TV.

There had been a rise in cases of sexual assaults in the city and the mayor and chief of police were standing up there saying how they were going to do everything they could to keep the members of the community safe. It was really quite comical since both the mayor and police chief were involved in the organization as well. Though I suppose the mayor did have to get up there and speak out against it. It couldn’t have been a change of heart, his own twin girls were taken the night after they graduated from college. If the mayor was really against it, he’d protect his own kids.

I couldn’t help but to continue to grin as I look at Whitney, so helpless, and how easily it was to get her into the position. The coffee shop is in a strip mall, sharing a back hallway with 5 other potential businesses. However it had been almost entirely abandoned during the downturn and has yet to recover. It was pretty easy to get into the back office of one of the other storefronts–the malls landlord had quit paying for the alarm service of the vacant lots.

A week ago I picked the lock and got inside the office just to make sure it would work. Luck was truly with me as this happened to be the office that housed the breakers for the hallway lights. I waited until after closing and cleanup, knowing Whitney would be the last out, and the only one to use the hallway. Once the telltale slam of a door came, I checked the gap in the door and it was her. A quick flip of the breaker plunged the place into darkness.

She had sighed, but luckily near the exit there was a light that came on when the power went out and tonight was no exception. It had made it easier to see her form reach the door I was behind. I’d quickly grabbed the girl and pulled her in. She did scream, but it was delayed as she simply wasn’t expecting anything so sudden. I slammed the door and turned on the lights–flooding the room and disorienting the girl further. I found myself holding back a laugh as she tripped over the end of the couch and fell flat on it.

I’ve always been good at disguising my voice. In high school I had many friends who thought I’d go into voice acting, which I did. It had worked out well, allowing me to work at my own convenience, and to have side hobbies such as this. Choosing a deeper, more threatening voice I simply said, “Scream again and you won’t want to know the consequences.”

Whitney finally looked up at me, at my masked figure and looked ready to scream again, but she kept her mouth shut, afraid of what I could have meant by consequences. She hesitated before saying, “What do you want? I don’t have that much money on me and my boyfriend will be picking me up in just a few minutes.”

This was a lie and I knew it, but I played along just to mess with the poor teenager. “If you do everything I say we’ll get you back to your boyfriend unharmed, okay?”

“Okay,” she said rather meekly. I must admit this surprised me–everything I had seen about her made it seem like she’d be too strong willed and fighting this entire time, I’d never seen her back down so quickly.

“Take your wallet out of your purse, then throw your purse to the side. From your wallet get out your Drivers License and toss it to me, then throw your wallet over with your purse.”

Whitney hesitated for a moment, then reached to her purse. She was probably trying to decide if she could send a quick message with her cell phone, but quickly grabbed the wallet and threw the purse aside. When the purse landed on the floor the cell came flying out. She looked like she wanted to go put it back, but the look I gave her as she started to move quickly sat her back down. She fumbled into her wallet and tossed her ID at me before tossing the wallet over to her purse.

“Good,” I said, leaving the ID on the ground for the moment. “Now, take off your top.”

Whitney’s eyes bulged as she looked at me. “Go to hell asshole.”

I shook my head at her. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Whitney. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. I think that’s already deserving a little bit of a punishment. Let me restate my request in simpler terms. Either remove your top, or I’ll handcuff you to one of these pipes running above us,” I pointed up to the pipes for the fire sprinklers, “and I cut your top off, choose.”

She looked at me calculating for a moment, figuring that if I had this kind of bravado to keep her here and expect that she was going to strip for me, that I must have some kind of weapon with me. Finally she started scowling at me, the scowl I’d seen for many months as she reached down and started pulling her shirt up.

As Whitney’s torso started to come into view, I could see that she did indeed fit what I had already presumed–her eighteen year old body was very fit, with a taut stomach. The black lace bra held so far what looked to be nearly flawless breasts–a C cup by the look of it. When the shirt was over her head I reached down to grab the ID card and pocketed it for the moment.

“Throw the shirt with your purse,” I told her, and she did so. “The bra too honey.”

The scowl continued as she reached back and started unhooking her bra. When it too came off and joined the pile I looked at her breasts–I shouldn’t have been surprised that there were no tan lines on them, Whitney seemed the type of girl who couldn’t stand them.

I reached into my bag that I placed on the table in the room when I set up earlier in the evening and grabbed out the pair of handcuffs with the rope in the middle of the chain. Swinging it over the thick pipe running along the ceiling of the room I lowered the handcuffs to about where her belly button would be while standing.

“Lock yourself in hon.” I commanded the girl.

Finally, Whitney looked downright scared, she refused to get up from her place at the couch.

“Does this mean a second punishment?” I asked of her.

Already freaking out about what the first punishment might be, Whitney quickly stood and put the handcuffs on herself, locking them into place while trembling the whole time. I pulled on the rope, raising her arms above her head before tying off the rope. She was left standing there, stretched out, her perfect breasts on display. I moved closer and gave her the next instruction.

“If you try to kick me, you will regret it.” I untied her right shoe and pulled it off, lifting her leg slightly in the process. Next came her sock, followed by her left shoe and sock. I reached up to the button of the black khaki pants that she had to wear for work and undid it and the zipper quickly. Not even waiting I reached out and tugged on her pants, making sure to get her panties too and pulled both of them down at once. They too quickly were off her legs and flung across the room.

I looked at my handiwork, looking Whitney over. As I suspected she had shaved bare, the top of her labia visible. She had nice legs and definitely had a killer body. Admittedly, I was surprised she was working in a coffee shop instead of modeling, I’d seen much less attractive girls in magazines over the years.

And now we’re back to where you came into the story, me taking pictures of the naked girl with the bad attitude. As I looked at the struggling girl with a look of fear that I’d never seen on her I decided I’d try a different tactic than I’d come in here with. I’d plotted and set this all up with the idea of abusing her (most likely) virgin asshole until she was begging for anything else, but I realized that might not be as much fun.

I looked around the office and see one of the left-over pleather office chairs. Pulling it over in front of Whitney I sit down and grin up at her. I let her squirm about things for a moment before I start to speak. “First off Whitney,” I say in my still disguised threatening voice, “things will be better for you if you stay quiet until I tell you that you can respond. Nod if you understand, shake your head if you don’t.”

Her eyes were very wide as she shook her head but otherwise kept her mouth shut.

“Good. Now as you can probably guess, you’re in quite the predicament at the moment; all bound nude unable to do anything but stand there, knowing that I can pretty much do whatever I want to you at the moment. Do you agree?”

Another nod from the girl.

“Let me make something clear immediately Whitney–tonight whether you like it or not you’re going to be fucked in the ass.” I paused to listen for the excepted whimpers from the girl and I wasn’t disappointed. However, she did do a good job and chose not to say anything waiting for me to finish as I’d already ordered her to. “Now, there’s two ways that this can go: A girl who resists would find this one of the most painful nights of her life. A woman’s asshole is rather tight, and not meant to be penetrated unlubed. Actively fighting it instead of relaxing also only makes things worse. Whereas a girl who obeys will not experience as much pain, she may even find herself feeling some pleasure, even if that is coming against her will. The catch though is the girl who chooses to obey will be expected to obey the entire time. One way you’ll experience only pain, the other way, well, we can call that a draw.”

I finally stood up and moved close to her, watching as she squirmed wondering what I was about to do. “I will give you one minute, and you may say one word; either resist, or obey.”

I turned away from her and started to walk around the room looking about. I wasn’t really keeping track of the time, but I knew Whitney was, and I was pretty confident about what she was going to answer, I just wanted to hear it from her–sure, fucking her ass hard would have been great punishment, but to have her actively help me defile her would be absolute heaven.

Whitney finally made a sound, and it was hard to make out among her sobbing. I turned to her and asked, “A little more clearly, I didn’t understand that.”

She was looking down at the floor and she said it again. “Obey.”

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