Chapter 4

Upon awakening the subsequent morning, Lizzy’s presence was already palpable, eagerly awaiting my rise. She escorted me to the washroom with a firm yet gentle grip, ensuring I was thoroughly cleansed and prepared for the day’s events. Upon our return to the boudoir, she tended to my hunger before directing my attention to my former attire, which she had meticulously laid out for me. The garments included a dainty dress that clung to my body in a way that was both unfamiliar and eerily reminiscent of a time when I was a mere shadow of my current self. The material was soft against my skin, the looseness of the garment a stark contrast to the tight, restrictive corset that had become a staple in my recent existence.

Guiding me to an unexplored chamber, the aura of anticipation grew as she presented me with thirteen meticulously arranged chairs. Six were positioned on either side, with an ostentatious throne-like chair at the center, adorned with the unmistakable insignia of the “black cards” gang, which sent a quiver of trepidation down my spine. The pristine environment was a stark contrast to the depravity I knew awaited me.

The gang members began to file in, one by one, claiming their designated seats. Each man exuded an aura of dominance that filled the space with a thick tension. Finally, the leader of this sordid assembly made his grand entrance, his towering stature and dark countenance casting a shadow over me, making me feel insignificant and exposed. His eyes bore into me as he took his place upon the central chair, the very epitome of authority and control.

Lizzy, ever the obedient servant, approached him without a word, her bare body on full display. She had discarded her previous tattoos, which had once been a source of pride, and now bore the brand of her new masters upon her lower back. The words “anal” and “whore” were etched in a bold, unmistakable script, flanking the gang’s emblem, while an elaborate vine of thorns encircled her waist. As she moved, the delicate jingle of the bell attached to her pierced clit hood echoed through the room, announcing her subservience to all.

Her once-pierced nipples were now adorned with gleaming silver chains, each tipped with the gang’s insignia, drawing my gaze to her bare chest where the “queen of spades” was prominently inked, a testament to her new role as their plaything. Her pussy had been defiled, the word “black owned” proudly emblazoned in thick black letters across her bald mound, leaving no doubt as to her status.

With a grace that belied her degradation, she knelt before the gang leader, her body language one of complete and utter surrender. He treated her like a well-trained animal, patting her head with a smug smile as she crawled closer. He then attached a dog collar around her neck, the leather stark against her pale skin, and attached a leash, which he held loosely in his hand. Lizzy beamed with satisfaction, her eyes sparkling as she obeyed his silent commands to expose herself to the leering eyes of the gang members.

The gang leader’s piercing gaze fell upon me, and my heart pounded as I realized my fate was in his cruel hands. I was surrounded by the very men I had so confidently sent to rot behind bars just weeks earlier, and now, I was trembling with fear in the presence of their unbridled dominance.

“What are you, bitch?” he barked, and I flinched, my voice quivering with fear. “I ... I don’t know what you mean,” I tried to protest, but the words caught in my throat as I saw the rage boiling in his eyes. He took a step closer, and the scent of leather and sweat filled the air around me.

“Tell me,” he demanded, and I swallowed hard, knowing the truth would only fuel his anger. “I’m Ajun,” I managed to say, “I was a police officer with the Special Division...” The words came out in a rush, and as I spoke, the gang leader’s expression grew darker.

Without a hint of amusement, he raised his hand and slapped Lizzy across the face, the sound echoing in the room. She stumbled but quickly regained her balance, dropping to her knees and keeping her eyes firmly on the ground. “Is that what he is?” he sneered, looking down at her.

My heart raced as I watched Lizzy, unable to bear the thought of her suffering because of my lies. She remained silent, but the fear in her eyes spoke volumes. The gang leader’s hand moved to stroke her hair gently, his fingers trailing down to caress the tender skin of her neck before finally coming to rest on her exposed breasts.

“Well, is it?” he asked again, and she nodded slightly, not daring to speak. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I knew what he wanted from me. I took a shaky breath, steeling myself for the ultimate act of degradation.