Chapter 7: Candy's Submission Part 2

Usual disclaimers: Do not try this at home. Keep away from children. Void where prohibited. Also do not dispose of human waste in dumpsters, it is a health hazard.

I did not get too much sleep that Thursday night. The cell in the dungeon was quite cold. We had made it that way. The floor was bare concrete. We had removed the carpeting. Lying down on the thin piece of carpet was uncomfortable to say the least. The thin blanket did not keep me warm. The manacles attached to my throat collar did help, I had not come since Saturday, what with my clitoris burnt, and Simon had guessed, rightly so, that I would have given myself a nice orgasm, had my hands been free. I deserved one. He could have just forbidden me to play with myself and I would have obeyed, I think.

He gets me on Friday morning. He opens the door to the cage, and releases my hands. He points me to the bathroom in the basement, and tells me to shower, prepare myself and pack my cosmetics. He has arranged my cosmetics in it while I slept. He has also removed the handles of the hot water spigots. I have to shower and wash up with cold water. This being mid October in Colorado, the water is freezing. I definitely do not take long. After I finish doing my hair, I choose my makeup. This time I choose my most waterproof mascara. I believe I will be doing quite a bit of crying the next few days. I select the waterproof mascara; a dense foundation, that will cover bruises, and a lipstick. After I'm done, still nude, I walk upstairs.

He has made breakfast. Coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, green peppers and hash browns. I am starving and eat ravenously. I am sitting at the kitchen table. He is fully dressed, in jeans and shirt, and I am bare ass naked. I enjoy the coffee, and have another mug. After I'm done, he asks me to go to the bedroom and put on the clothes he set out for me on the bed.

A short white dress with no sleeves, lacy see through bra, matching thong, a black leather dog collar with steel loops on it, and fuck me pumps. I look out the window. The sky is leaden, an overcast the color of gun metal. It can get very cold, very fast in Colorado in mid October. I look around searching for a coat but there is none. I dress as instructed.

I walk back down to the kitchen. He tells me to sit down and serves me another coffee. He gives me now my instructions:

"The man you are going to belong to is Alvaro Vega. I have no doubts you will not let me down. Your ride will be here in a minute. You can still back out of this if you want"

There is nothing I would want to do more than back out of this.

"No Simon, I will obey your instructions."

"Here is your ride"

I get up, and walk to the door. He kisses me, opens the door and says simply:

"Go"

I walk out, feeling like a slut, dressed like this on a Friday morning. A black limo has pulled out in front of our driveway. The driver opens the back door for me. I notice how cold it is and something cold and wet touches my nose. A snowflake. I get in the car. The heater is on.

The driver gets in. "Good morning ma'am. It's a cold day today. We may have a big snowstorm"

He is quite chatty. It's just another day at work for him. I answer with a few platitudes; my mind is not in the conversation. I realize this is not a private limo; it belongs to a service that we often use. Simon has an account with them. He works in a public position and cannot afford to have a DUI, so every time we go out, he hires a limo.

We go west, along the intestate, soon the driver gets out. I seldom come to this part of town. It is a Mexican area, children look at the limo. Probably not many of these cars drive around here or maybe not.

He stops in front of a medium size house. "It's here ma'am" He opens the door for me. The front yard is uncared for. The bushes untrimmed. I walk to the house and knock on the door. My knees are shaking, and it is not only from the cold.

A Mexican woman opens the door. "Yes, what do you want?" She speaks with a thick Mexican accent. "Please, I'm looking for Alvaro Vega" She turns around and yells: "Alvaro: Una pinche de gringa pregunta por ti!" She looks at me and says "Wait here"

I stay at the door. The snow is falling a little harder now, the limo is gone. I am freezing.

A man comes: "You must be Candy" "Yes sir" He gestures me in, closes the door and says "Strip gringa" I hesitate for only a second. My dress unzips from the front. I remove it, and stand there in my lacy bra and thong. Before I can continue he twirls his finger. I pivot in place. He leers at me and says "Everything but the shoes and collar" I take off my bra and thong. He opens a closet and points "Put it in there" I do so. He takes a leash, clips it to the collar and walks into the kitchen. The woman is sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes. She is middle aged, about 5 feet but around 240Lbs or more. Her hair is long, black and unkempt. She is wearing a drab housedress.

"¿Que haces con esa gringa?" She asks. She doesn't realize I understand Spanish.

"No es asunto tuyo vieja" It's not your business.

He has me kneel at a corner of the kitchen. I do so; sit back on my heels, with my legs open and eyes downcast. I am trying to be as submissive and unobtrusive as possible. Something really hard to do, when kneeling in a kitchen, naked, with a leash on your neck and a fat Mexican woman looking at you with murder in her eyes. I realize now I really need to go to the bathroom. All that coffee, plus the cold, I really need to go. I ask the man, as humbly as I can. He looks at me, opens a closet full of newspapers, gives me a few, opens the backyard door and points out:

"You go there"

I blush, no I turn red, beet red, I'm sure. I try to stall, but it will not work, he is looking at me. She looks too. "Pinche de Gringa" She says. I get up, leashed, and walk to the backyard. I squat over the newspaper facing Alvaro Vega, figuring it would be pointless to try to do it with my back to him. I close my eyes. "Open your eyes" He orders immediately. Even that small comfort is denied to me. Looking at the ground, I squat over the newspapers and release my water. I finish. "Wrap it all up and throw it in the dumpster" There is a thin layer of snow on the ground now.

We return to the house. I resume kneeling in the corner. Alvaro ties my hands behind my back; then goes somewhere and returns with two alligator clamps each attached to a small bell. I figure where they are going. He places a clamp on each nipple. They hurt but not inordinately so. I whimper a little, but hold position. He flicks the bells. The woman laughs.

Alvaro then picks up the phone and calls some friends. "Tengo una gringa para hoy"

He tells them. I am obviously going to be the entertainment for tonight's social event.

Alvaro is about 5'6" and 200 Lbs. with a beer belly. He seems to be enjoying himself. His wife, if it is his wife, doesn't seem to appreciate having a gringa less than half her weight parading naked on her kitchen. He leaves.

After a while his wife approaches me. "Puta gringa, me vas a servir para algo" She approaches me, bringing her chair, sits in front of me and pulls her skirt up. She isn't wearing any undies; it is obvious what she wants. I lean forward, into her thatch and get to work. She smells quite bad; like a dead fish left out for too long. I fight nausea as I stick my face into her pussy and start sucking and licking. She grabs my head and mashes it into her crotch. I try as hard as I can to bring her off. I've never done it with a woman before, but I try my best, and soon I am rewarded by her juices squirting in my face.

She pulls back now, sated. She pats my head; like you would a cat or a dog, and resumes getting dinner ready. I resume my position, kneeling in the corner.

Soon after, the outer door opens; a boy, laughing runs into the kitchen, he stops when he sees me. He is about ten. He runs up to me, I am so embarrassed, naked, kneeling here, with the drying cunt juice of that woman drying on my face, but I do not dare move. He notices the little bells hanging from my nipples and flicks one of them. I whimper a little. I hear his mother's voice 'What are you doing in the kitchen? Go do your homework" The child runs out of the kitchen.

The woman comes in and slaps me. "Why are you corrupting my child?" She grabs a belt and strikes me furiously on my ass and belly. I cry bitterly; I have done nothing, yet I am being punished. I should get used to that, I guess. She leaves, leaving me to my misery.

Time passes, slowly. Alvaro returns, and removes the clamps from my nipples. The pain from the blood returning is excruciating. He tells me to stand and wash my face. I do so at the kitchen sink. Unasked I use cold water; I figure he would probably punish me if I tried to use the hot one.

"I am going to put you to some use. Mario turned 15 today and he has never been with a woman. You are going to go to his room and teach him. Make sure he uses you well. I will ask him all about how it went, so I know you did a good job. If he is not satisfied, or I feel that you did not teach him well, you will be sorry you ever met me." He should have said sorrier. I am already sorry I ever met him.

I follow him, nude, on my high heels to a room inside the house. He opens the door and we go in. Mario is sitting at a desk, and turns around as we walk in. His eyes seem ready to pop out of their sockets as she sees me.

Alvaro cheerfully says: "Mario, here is your birthday present. Have fun with her. It is now noon, have her out at the kitchen by four" He then leaves us.

Mario is taller than his father, and still thin, a shadow of a developing moustache on his upper lip, but otherwise beardless. His hair is black, neither long nor short, with a cowlick on his right side. He is wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. The jeans cannot hide his growing erection. He stands there, by his desk, uncertain of what his next step should be.

I feel embarrassed; I know that in some Mexican families it is customary to hire a hooker for the male children when they turn 15. I am being treated like a common whore. I realize rapidly that I have to do a good job of teaching this kid about sex. So I smile at him and ask him: "I hear you have not had sex yet" He nods. I approach him and touch his arm. "You will enjoy it, I promise" He smiles. I take his right hand and place it on my breast. He tentatively at first then more firmly kneads it. I start to get aroused by this adolescent boy. He pinches my nipple, I gasp. I embrace him while he continues to play with my breast. He has a very good idea of what to do; he will just need a little guidance. I take his other hand and take it to my pussy, which is sopping wet by now. He explores the moist folds, clumsily. I move back slightly and unbutton his shirt, then I caress his hairless chest. I kiss it, nibble at it. Then I kneel in front of him and, while looking up into his eyes, unbuckle his belt, remove it and lay it on the ground. Should I teach him how to spank a woman with a belt? I decide to do that later, if there is time. I unbutton and drop his pants. He stands excited, with his erect penis tenting his white briefs. I remove them too. He is well hung, 8 inches of uncircumcised teenage ardor. I take his penis into my hand, and uncover his glans, which I am sorry to see is not too clean. They do not seem to take personal hygiene too seriously in this house. Nevertheless, I begin to lick at it, clean it, kiss it. He trembles in excitement. I know he will not last long. I take him in my mouth and suck on him. He cannot take it any more and comes explosively in my mouth. I hold his seed in my mouth until he is done, then releasing him, fall down on my heels, look up at him, lips open, letting him see his spunk in my mouth, and swallow.

He sits on the bed, amazed. I smile at him again, and notice that his penis is again twitching. I thought it would. I press on his chest and have him lie down on the unmade bed. Again I excite him, caress his body, his chest, legs, balls, semi erect penis. I bring his hand again to my pussy, still wet, and he now takes the initiative and explores on his own, my pussy, my ass. I sit back on the bed, spread my legs and let him see my sex, open, inviting. He is erect again. I lie back and bring him to me. He needs no further coaching and pounds at my entrance. I guide him in, and he starts thrusting, pounding. I get more excited too. I have not had anyone inside my pussy since Saturday; almost a week. I have been unable to touch myself since then too. Today's humiliating treatment has had an effect on me also. I cannot help myself and start coming, just as he, taking longer this time, grunts and spills his load in my insides.

We take a little longer to recover this time. He fondles my breasts. We rest. He falls into a light sleep, more like a short nap. I appreciate the opportunity of lying in a soft bed, even this dirty one, redolent of sweat and sex. I figure that I won't sleep in such a comfortable place tonight. I nap a little and wake up at 2:30. My young lover is still asleep. I must wake up; there are two more things I need to teach him. He wakes up with his dick in my mouth, he is erect before he even awakes and, as soon as he wakes, he starts thrusting. I stop him. "No, not this way. There is more that you can do" I smile at him, get off the bed and pick up the belt. I put the belt on the bed and turning around, so my back faces him, I bend over the desk. I show him my ass; separate the ass cheeks so he can see my rosebud. He studies it, curious. He touches it. I take his hand, insert two of his fingers into my wet pussy, and place them over the rear entrance. He gets the idea, inserts first one, then two. I try to relax. He is getting more excited. Before he gets too far along, I turn my head around and tell him. "You shouldn't do this with just any woman, but with me, you can take the belt and whip me with it, if you wish. Afterwards you can fuck my ass" His eyes open wide; he takes the belt and takes a playful swat at my behind. I gasp. I stop him for a moment, take a pillow from the bed, put it on the desk, bury my head in it and tell him: "Now go on" He does. I muffle my cries with the pillow. He is merciless. He gives me twenty strokes before throwing the belt aside and trying to bugger me. His penis is too dry. I tell him "Wait!" turn around and with my mouth, my saliva get him wet. Then I resume position, and he enters me, violently. I scream into the pillow. He slaps my ass, hard. This is his third time in as many hours. It takes him a long time to climax. When he finally does, he pulls out and, spent, sits on the bed. I remain in position for a few minutes. I let him see his spunk trickling out of my asshole, framed by, my now red, ass cheeks. Then I get up. It is ten minutes to four. "You need to get me to the kitchen now" I say.

He puts his pants and shirt on and takes me back to the kitchen. Alvaro is there, and he examines me. "Good" he says. He points at the closet with the newspapers. I grab a bunch of them then follow him outside. It is getting darker and the snow is falling heavily. Naked and shivering I walk beside the dumpster. I squat to do number two; he bends behind me and watches his son's semen coming out of both my holes. He shows me a pail of cold water, soap, washrag, and a towel. I realize that the lack of hygiene in the house does not apply to me. In the freezing weather I wash myself as best I can.

Inside the house he lets me use the bathroom to fix my makeup. I surreptitiously look at my ass, heavily striped by the belt. After I am done he takes me to the living room, where I am made to kneel by the coffee table. He ties my hands behind my back and puts out a thin whippy cane.

"My friends will be here soon gringa. We will have some fun then"

I realize then, as if I did not know already, my evening will not be pleasant.

His friends arrive around six. It is already dark. They leer at me as they enter the living room. There are four of them. I can't make out their names. I could probably figure out their names, if they called each other by them, but they call each other by all kinds of epithets. Pendejo, Pinche Cabron, and many others I can't recall. They drink beer, and spank my ass as they pass beside me, or they slap my breasts. I maintain position, kneeling, hands tied behind my back, eyes downcast. It is about half an hour before they pay me any more attention. I wish it was longer.

Alvaro unties my hands, and they all sit around me. I am to go around blowing them one by one. I must open their flies, take out their dicks, and blow them one after the other. I start with one of them, I do not know which. Their smells mix in my nose, their taste in my mouth, and their semen in my gullet. I blow all five of them. They laugh, and get excited again. They tell me to lie face down on top of the coffee table. Alvaro picks up the cane. I ask for a gag, he ignores me. I ask for a pillow; he throws one of the throw pillows from the sofa. I bury my head in it.

Thwack! I scream into my pillow. Again and again, the cane falls on my ass, my thighs. I scream and scream. I wish I was tied, so I would not be afraid of moving, of trying to escape. The cane is really horrible. I realize it is not only Alvaro holding the cane, they hand it off to each other; I can tell because the pause between strikes is longer when they hand it off. Fortunately they are not as skilled as Simon or Robert. They strike too fast. Before the pain of one cut ebbs, they are hitting me again. Some of the effect is lost. After a while the strokes meld into each other. Even though they moved up to my back, my pain receptors are becoming saturated. The pain becomes one huge ball of fire on my back.

After a while, silence; a pause. They got tired of this game and move around. I can hear them, but, my head buried in the pillow, I can't see them.

I catch my breath. I recover some of my composure. I wait for instructions. My back is on fire.

I feel someone at my rear. A hand touches me, I am dry. An erect penis touches me, and forces itself into me. My vagina responds slowly, but respond it does. I begin to get wet. He thrusts and thrusts harder; he comes into me, and slips out. A second shaft enters, thrusts, thrusts, comes, and leaves. A third follows then a fourth and a fifth. My back burns from the caning. Where the cane has cut into the skin, I feel the sting of the sweat that covers my back; some of it is even my own. They have me kneel again; I feel the semen of many men slipping out of me.

They tie me to a chair, my hands behind its back. My breasts exposed. I tremble with fear when I realize they will cane my breasts. They do. The pain is worse than anything I've endured until now. Even the burning of my pussy was more bearable than this; at least Simon was there to enjoy it. I scream myself hoarse. They stop. My head falls on my chest. How much more of this can I endure? Time passes. The men leave. Incredulous, I lift my head, I look at the clock. It is now 10.

Alvaro unties me. He takes me to the kitchen. I already know what to do. Pick up the newspapers, and step out into the snow. Afterwards he gives me a carpet and a thin blanket. He fills a bowl with water and leaves it on the floor; again, I do not need instructions, without using my hands I drink from it. He points to a corner in the kitchen. I curl up there.

I wonder why did Simon leave me here, and how does having me here, away from him, please him. I had expected that any tortures would have been documented on video; I would then have had the comfort of knowing that he would see it, he could observe my suffering and enjoy it; maybe while getting a blowjob from Vicky. That would have made it worthwhile. Instead, I feel abandoned, forgotten, given to Alvaro to torture and humiliate; and he will never even know what I endured for him. Then perhaps, that is what he wants, to know that I am suffering at his whim, and suffering more, because he can't see it. And then thinking of Simon, I cry myself to sleep.

I awake, suddenly, from a kick in my side. Alvaro's wife, whose name I do not know yet, kicks me awake. I get up and kneel. She gives me a pail of water, a towel, soap, points. I know already. I pick up the newspapers and head into the snow covered and still dark backyard. I am shivering, nude, in the early morning cold. The stars are out. The storm has passed on, and in the clear night, the temperature has dropped to what feels like the single digits. Like an animal I do my stuff and dump it in the dumpster. I then wash, as fast as I can with the freezing water and return to the warm kitchen, where I kneel at my appointed place.

I am sent to the small toilet in the kitchen to fix my makeup, fix my hair. When I come back to the kitchen, the smell of beans, peppers and coffee fills the air. My stomach growls. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday. I am starving. I say nothing however and move to my corner to kneel there. The woman stops me, gives me a bowl and tells me to crack eggs in the bowl and whisk them. I am now her nude kitchen prep assistant. Silently I help her. I actually prefer this to kneeling in the corner. After I help her make breakfast, she points to my corner and I go kneel there.

All of the family gathers round the breakfast table. Alvaro, his wife, Mario and the little boy. I kneel nude on the corner, and am generally ignored by everyone. My stomach growls more loudly now. But no one seems to care; they do laugh at it. Soon they all leave for whatever projects they have for this Saturday morning. The wife has me help pick up the table. She watches me closely to make sure I do not pick up anything to eat. I do not dare. I am more afraid of her than of Alvaro. I wash the dishes; in cold water, of course. There is a dishwasher in the kitchen, but she gets a kick out of having a gringa wash her dishes, I guess.