Chapter 10

After the brief intermission, the three pairs of eyes returned to where Tamanna and I remained on our knees, poised for the next degrading and excruciating round of amusement that our sadistic masters had in store for us. Danny, the ringleader of this twisted game, approached us with a malicious smile etched across his face. He addressed Tamanna, “You’ve been quite the entertaining little slut tonight. You’ve earned yourself a prize. What do you wish for?”

Tamanna’s gaze was transfixed on her master, her eyes gleaming with a mix of adoration and desperation. She replied, her voice quivering with anticipation, “Anything you wish, sir. But if it pleases you, I’ve been craving an orgasm for what feels like an eternity.”

Danny’s smile grew wider, “Very well. As the champion of the night, you are granted as many orgasms as you can handle.”

Kirit, Danny’s equally depraved wife, stepped forward with a wicked glint in her eye. “Now, for the loser,” she sneered, pointing at me. “You will be denied any further pleasure tonight. If you dare to cum or ask for it, you will face severe consequences.”

The fear of what those consequences might be sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded, my voice a mere whisper, “Yes, Mistress.”

The room was arranged so that I lay on my back, my legs splayed open, exposing my vulnerable sex to the leering eyes of the onlookers. Tamanna was instructed to straddle my face, her pussy hovering tantalizingly above my mouth. The heat emanating from her core was almost too much to bear, and I could feel my own juices seeping from my cunt in anticipation of the forbidden pleasure that awaited her.

Tamanna eagerly lowered herself, her wet folds brushing against my eager lips. As she began to grind against my face, I couldn’t help but let my tongue slip out to taste her. The sensation was exquisite, and she let out a moan of pleasure that only spurred me on. I feasted upon her, my tongue swirling around her clit and dipping into the warm cavern of her sex. Her moans grew louder with each passing second, and I felt a strange sense of pride knowing that I was bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

But just as I was getting lost in the depraved delight of pleasing Tamanna, the sharp sting of the flogger bit into my exposed flesh. Kirit stood above me, her arm swinging back and forth with a practiced rhythm, raining down blows upon my thighs and pussy. The pain was intense, yet it served to heighten my own arousal, much to my horror.

“Remember, cunt,” she jeered, “you’re not allowed to come. You’re just here to service your friend.”

Danny’s words echoed in my mind, serving as a cruel reminder of my role in this twisted play. Yet, the pain seemed to fuel my desire, and I lapped at Tamanna’s pussy with renewed vigor, her sweet flavor coating my mouth and driving me wild.

Before I knew it, Tamanna’s body began to convulse as she climaxed, her orgasm washing over her in a series of spasms. I swallowed as much of her juices as I could, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite my own unfulfilled need. Her pussy continued to quiver and pulse as I licked her clean, savoring every drop of her nectar.

We were both left panting and trembling, Tamanna from the force of her orgasms and me from the pain that I had been forced to endure. My thighs were on fire from the flogging, and I could feel the sticky wetness of my own arousal mingling with the sweat that coated my body.

The room was filled with the sounds of their laughter, a cruel symphony to accompany my degradation. Yet, even in this moment of despair, I couldn’t help but recognize the depths to which my sexual desires had descended. Once a vanilla girl, I had transformed into a creature of the dark, craving the very things that would have once repulsed me.

Tamanna reluctantly lifted herself from my face, her breathing labored and her skin glistening with sweat. We both knew what was coming next. With a cruel smile, she took her place beside me, and together we assumed the degrading position we had been taught to adopt. Our knees were pushed apart, exposing our most intimate regions to the leering eyes of the group that had gathered around us. Hands clasped behind our heads, elbows locked and shoulders pushed back, we offered our breasts up like sacrifices to be ogled and touched at their whim. The cool air of the room brushed against my sensitive nipples, causing them to harden in a mix of arousal and fear.

Kirti stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent. In her hand, she held the infamous ben-wa-balls that had been introduced to me by Danny on our way from the mall. My pussy clenched involuntarily at the sight of them, remembering the feeling of being filled and the intense desire they had brought forth. She didn’t waste any time, pushing the metal orbs back into me without a second thought. The feeling was indescribable - a mix of pleasure and pain that only served to heighten my humiliation. The chain that connected them hung down, the little bell attached to it jingling with every movement, a constant reminder of the object lodged deep within my most private place.

The group of onlookers grew impatient, and Kirti barked an order for us to clean the room. On trembling legs, we scurried to obey, wiping down surfaces and picking up scattered items. The adrenaline of my impending fate made every task feel like it was taking an eternity. Finally, the room was deemed suitable for further depravity, and they directed us to the center. A sturdy wooden table was dragged into place, and without a word, I was forced onto my back on it. The rough wood scraped against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

Tamanna stepped closer, a look of excitement on her face that mirrored the fear in my eyes. She attached a spreader bar to my ankles, the cold metal digging into my flesh. With a sadistic twist, she yanked the chain, lifting my legs until they were almost vertical, leaving me utterly exposed. My pussy, still quivering from the recent intrusion, was laid bare, the ben-wa-balls visible and inviting. The crowd murmured in approval, eager to see what was in store for us.

My friend took a permanent marker from the table beside us and began her artwork on my body. Words of degradation and filth were scribbled across my skin, turning me into a canvas of their depraved desires. On each inner thigh, she labeled me an “Anal Whore,” the ink stinging as much as the words themselves. Arrows drawn with the marker pointed to my gaping ass, which was already aching from the plug that I had in me throughout the night.

With a flourish, she finished her work and stepped back to admire it. I lay there, a picture of submission and pain, my body marked and displayed for their amusement. Danny, the ringleader of this twisted circus, stepped up to the table. He took the plug that had been so recently removed from my ass and held it under my nose, the scent of my own ass mingling with the room’s musky aroma. Despite the revulsion that churned in my stomach, I knew what was expected of me.

Opening my mouth, I took the plug between my teeth and began to clean it, scrubbing it with my tongue until it was gleaming. Danny watched with a smug smile, his hand never leaving my tit. The sensation of the cold, hard material on my tongue and the knowledge that I was cleaning my own excrement was almost too much to bear, but I couldn’t show any sign of weakness.

Finally, he addressed the eager audience. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice thick with lust, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for has arrived!” The group roared in anticipation as he continued, detailing my newfound love for anal play. It was true that I had been broken in, but the humiliation of hearing it proclaimed to a room full of strangers was almost too much to handle.

“As you can see,” Danny said, gesturing to my spread-eagled form, “all of her holes are available for your use, but remember, her pussy is off-limits. We don’t want her getting too excited now, do we?” His fingers pinched my nipples, sending a jolt of pain straight to my core.

“Tamanna here,” he said, turning to gesture at my trembling friend, “is also at your disposal, but she’s not quite the anal slut that our little friend here is. So, keep that in mind when you’re playing with her.”

With a final question, directed at both Tamanna and me, “Are you ready, my whores?” We both managed to croak out a feeble “yes,” our voices laced with submission and fear. The crowd erupted into cheers, and we braced ourselves for the next round of pain and pleasure that awaited us.

Kirti’s malicious eyes bore into me as she approached, a twisted smile playing on her lips. In her hand, she held a pair of clover nipple clamps with chains that dangled enticingly. “Do you want these, slut?” she taunted, her voice a sweet caress wrapped in cruelty.

My heart pounding in my chest, I managed to reply, “If it brings you pleasure, Mistress,” my voice trembling with the anticipation of pain.

Her smile grew wider as she leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I do so love watching you wriggle in agony,” she whispered, her breath hot against my skin. Then she lifted her dress, exposing her perfectly groomed pussy to my eager gaze. “Begin,” she commanded, and I obeyed, pressing my mouth to her wetness, my tongue dancing over her folds like a desperate whore seeking approval.

As I licked and sucked, her fingers toyed with my breasts, pinching and pulling until I was gasping. Without warning, she clamped the cold metal onto my nipples, the sudden pain causing me to jolt. The chains attached to the clamps were then secured to two small rings on my collar, a stark reminder of my servitude.

“Look at you, Samantha,” she sneered, “you’re such an eager cunt licker.” Her words stung, a stark reminder of the envy and resentment that had brought us here. “When you were an actress, you had it all, didn’t you? Laughing at those parties, living the high life. But you never threw a crumb to someone like me. Now, it’s your turn to pay for your greed.”

Tears of pain and regret fell from my eyes as she spoke. It was true; I had been a star in India, living a life of glamour and excess. But had I really been that cold-hearted? I couldn’t recall turning my back on anyone, but perhaps my success had blinded me to the struggles of those around me.

With a sadistic laugh, she said, “Karma is a real bitch, isn’t it? And you’re her poster child tonight.” She grabbed a crop that lay on a nearby table, the leather shiny and new. “I’m going to make you hurt like you’ve never hurt before,” she promised, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

The crop bit into my flesh as she brought it down on my inner thighs. I cried out, the stinging pain mixing with the humiliation of being used so roughly. But I didn’t dare stop, fear and pain my silent companions as I continued to serve her with my mouth. The clamps on my nipples dug in, sending shockwaves through my body with each blow she dealt.

When she finally climaxed, her body spasming with pleasure, she stepped back, leaving me gasping for air. She took the crop from my mouth and handed it to someone in the shadows. “This is what happens when you’re a bad little slut,” she said, her voice a purr. “You get to be used and abused.”

I watched as Tamanna was also being degraded; a man’s cock buried in her mouth while another pumped into her pussy from behind. Her eyes met mine, a silent plea for mercy that went unanswered.

Danny approached, his eyes raking over my body with a hungry gaze. He slapped my ass, the sound echoing through the room, and the pain from the clamps intensified. The man whose cock Tamanna had been servicing took the crop from my mouth and replaced it with his own, his salty taste mixing with the coppery tang of pain.

The night stretched on, an endless cycle of degradation and humiliation. Men and women used me in every way imaginable, my body a canvas for their depraved desires. I was penetrated, struck, and filled with their seed; each act more demeaning than the last.

The clamps on my nipples remained, a constant reminder of my new status as their plaything. They yanked on the chains, pulling me back and forth as they saw fit, the pain a stark contrast to the pleasure my mouth and ass were being forced to give.

Some took me anally, their rough hands gripping the chains as they pounded into me. Others made me lick their sweaty cunts clean, the taste of their arousal mingling with the salt of my own tears. And still others shoved dildos into my ass, my body stretching and aching with each thrust.

Through it all, I remained silent, enduring their abuse, hoping that somehow, some way, this night would end. But it was a futile hope. I was their toy, to be used and discarded as they saw fit. And all I could do was submit and pray for the strength to survive until morning.

The room was filled with the sounds of grunts and moans, the smell of sex and sweat hanging heavy in the air. Each person took their turn with me, leaving their own unique brand of pain and pleasure in their wake.

When the last of them had finished, I lay on the table, my body a map of bruises and abuse. The clamps remained on my nipples, a twisted reminder of the power they held over me. But even in the throes of pain, I couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of gratitude for being allowed to serve, to be used so completely.

The night had been an education in the darkest aspects of human nature, a brutal lesson in submission and humiliation. I realized that no matter what I had been before, I was now theirs to use as they wished. A whore, a slut, a toy for their twisted games.

The sticky warmth of cum was plastered all over my face and body, a stark reminder of the intense debasement I had endured. I felt a sense of embarrassment as it oozed out of my well-used asshole. The stinging pain from the crop had painted my skin a deep shade of crimson, each welt a story of my submission.