Chapter 17: My Life as a Cunt

Ramon returned carrying a number of bags; some of them seemed quite heavy. "Has she eaten?" he asked Caroline.

"Like a prisoner on death row," Caroline answered. She always had had a strange sense of humour.

"Has she used the toilet?"

"Yes. She's well-fed, cleaned and dried."

Ramon bent over me and kissed my lips. "I love you, Jacqueline," he said tenderly.

He sat down on the bed in front of me and looked into my eyes. I could tell that it was not easy for him to say what he was about to say.

"When I saw you for the first time in that disco in Villiers, I knew that I wanted you. I wanted you for myself. I did not want to share you with anybody else. I was jealous of all the boys who danced with you and tried to feel you up, slipping their hands into your blouse, under your skirt. Watching you, I concluded that you had an enormous appetite for sex and that you were looking for adventure. You seemed to be keen on experiencing something new, different from the run-of-the-mill sex those boys had to offer. That's when I decided to conquer you.

"I felt like a teenager on his first date. I wanted to please you, impress you, make you forget that there were other men in this world. I wanted to be the one and only man for you. But I overdid it. I hurt you. I had to take you to a doctor to check how much damage I had done. You can't imagine how relieved I was when she found that you were basically okay. I hoped to God that you'd forgive me, that my overwhelming passion wouldn't push you away. I was overjoyed when you agreed to see me again.

"I wanted to talk to you about the love I felt for you, but you didn't admit that word. You said it had been overused, become meaningless. I agree that a lot of people say 'I love you' without meaning it, but does that mean I can't talk about my true feelings? What should I do? Should I stop loving you because the words to declare one's love have been misused? I won't stop wearing trousers, just because there are a lot of idiots wearing them.

"My problem is that I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy, but I'm trying to hide it. Having grown up in Argentina probably doesn't help. I'm the kind of man who worships a woman, particularly one as beautiful as you. A man who will do everything to please her, but who is also extremely possessive. In your case, I didn't want you to return to Villiers, ever. I wanted to lock you into my apartment and never let you go.

"But this kind of attitude is considered seriously uncool these days. I wanted to be cool. I gave you all the freedom and independence you needed - at least that's what I thought. I wanted you to choose me out of your own free will, not because you were afraid of my jealousy. It wasn't easy, but my agony was rewarded when you kept coming back, when you agreed to spend the weekends with me. The weekends were heaven on earth for me, but the rest of the week was sheer hell. When you moved to Paris, I insisted on letting you live your own, independent life, even though the Neanderthal macho in me wanted to lock you up, keep all other men from seeing your beauty.

"I never asked what you got up to during the week, because I was worried I might not like what I'd hear. I didn't want to nourish my jealousy. I didn't want you to know how the thought of you meeting and getting to like another man tortured me.

"When you started to talk about wanting to belong to me, I was shocked. Your idea of belonging to someone went much further than my most possessive impulses. And when you said I could let other men use you, I concluded that you didn't mean it, you couldn't possibly understand what you were suggesting. I stage-managed the gang bang with Rui and Pablo because I assumed you would hate such indiscriminate sex, such senseless fucking. I wanted to give you a chance to realize that this dream in which you were used by many men was really a nightmare. I expected you to tell them - us - to stop, to leave you in peace, to respect your dignity.

"But you seemed to enjoy being used like an object by three men. Or maybe you accepted what we did to you out of some sense of obligation towards me. I don't know if I'll ever solve this puzzle.

"What I know for sure is that the experience didn't put you off. You continued to say that you wanted to belong to me, that you wanted me to own you like a slave. The idea never appealed to me. My freedom is very important to me and I couldn't understand that anybody would want to give up their freedom out of their own free will. Sometimes, I had the impression that you would be much better served by the Neanderthal macho in me, the one I am trying to suppress.

"It appears that you haven't been very serious about this yourself. You want to be my slave on the weekend and do as you damn well please the rest of the time. Slaves don't go around having sex with other people, at least not without the approval of their master. Slaves don't keep their trespasses secret to avoid their master's disapproval.

"Since I met you, I've only once made love to another woman. That was when you introduced me to Lola. Going to bed with you and Lola at the same time was the happiest experience of my life. Not only because Lola is an exceptionally beautiful and sexy woman, but also because I could see how much the two of you enjoyed each other's company and I could feel what a thrill it was for you to watch me make love to her.

"By some lucky coincidence, I have met Caroline, the woman with whom you maintained an intimate relationship for months. Caroline is a wonderful, warm, sensual woman who has agreed to help me get you back on the right track. I hope that one day the three of us will find the kind of happiness we experienced when Lola shared our bed.

"I understand now that your wish to be my slave was a cry for help, that you were afraid to lose control and wanted me to take responsibility for you. Since I ignored your pleas I'm as much to blame for what happened as you are. But I don't want to talk about blame, I want to talk about putting things right. I want to talk about the purification process that will help you recover your dignity and win back my love and trust.

"Caroline and I have talked about what to do with you. We have decided to accept you as our mutual slave, and have already discussed some ideas on how to tame you. I have also contacted an expert who calls himself 'Marquis de Sade' - I understand you have already talked to him."

Apparently, the 'Marquis' had not found it necessary to keep quiet about my visit. I suppose his confidentiality only applied to his 'Master' clients, not to potential slaves.

"You have allowed your pussy to take control of your life. Your urge to experience sexual pleasures dominates your mind and makes you hurt those who love you most. You may argue that some of the things you did had the ultimate purpose to serve me, but if you are honest you will admit that the true reason behind your actions was the desire to experience as many different forms of sex as possible.

"You have become your pussy's servant, or, to put it more bluntly, you have reduced yourself to a cunt. To reflect this, you will be called 'Cunt' from now on. You will tell everybody who asks for your name, 'My name is Cunt' or if you prefer, 'I'm a cunt'. And as we are on the subject of names: from now on, you will address me as 'Master' and Caroline as 'Mistress'. You will obey any order Caroline or I give you."

In all the time I had known Ramon, he had never talked this much. His speech showed me how much my behaviour had disappointed him. But it also made it clear that he wasn't putting all the blame on me. He hadn't given me up as a lost case. Instead he wanted to help me to get my insatiable appetite for sex under control. And the hint that he and Caroline may let me share their bed at some time in the future gave me hope, a target I could aim for.

While Ramon was talking to me, Caroline had been busy unpacking the bags he had brought home. I could hear the noise of furniture being moved around in the studio, but had no idea what exactly she was doing. After his talk Ramon untied me and lead me to the adjoining space. There, I saw that Caroline had moved Ramon's drawing table out of the way to make room for a large plastic sheet she had spread out on the floor. A few cushions had been put on the floor and were also covered by the sheet.

Ramon told me to lie on the sheet and arranged the cushions so that my bottom and thighs rested on them. Then the two tied my hands to legs of the table which had been moved out of the way. The ropes allowed me some freedom of movement, but I wasn't able to touch any part of my body. Ramon also fixed a spreader bar between my legs, just above my knees. This bar did not allow me to close my legs or move them further apart.

I had no idea what all these preparations were for. They were obviously aiming to get my pussy into a certain position, but it didn't seem likely that Ramon was going to fuck me with the spreader bar fixed between my legs. I came to the conclusion that they were going to shave my pussy. This idea was reinforced when Caroline applied a clear liquid - probably just plain water - to my pussy and the surrounding area, using a soft brush. The touch of the brush on my pussy lips reawakened my desire. With difficulties, I raised my hips to intensify the contact, but it all happened too frustratingly quickly.

I saw Ramon arrive with a large plastic bowl. But the white paste in the bowl did not look like shaving foam and felt much heavier when the first dollop landed on my skin. Was this cement? Were they going to close my pussy to keep me from offering it to everybody? I panicked. "No, please," I cried as I struggled against my ties. "Don't make me give up sex for the rest of my life!"

"Keep quiet, Cunt, nobody's going to do you any harm" Ramon barked. "If you don't stay still we'll have to do the whole thing again. It will only make your ordeal last longer. We're going to take a plaster cast of your cunt. This will be used to produce a life-size effigy which you will hang on the wall of your room."

Ramon's explanation reassured me somewhat and I decided to remain calm and let him proceed without interference. I could feel the cool paste on my skin, like a very fine mud. Some of it seeped inside me and I wondered if they really would be able to free the passage once the plaster had dried.

When he was sure he had enough of me covered with plaster to produce a usable cast, Ramon told me that I had to remain motionless for two hours to allow the plaster to dry completely.

Ramon and Caroline left me lying on the floor on my own. I could hear them talk and sometimes laugh. I assumed that they were lying on the large bed, but it didn't sound like they were making love. They were probably just fondling each other while they whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears. I would have loved to be with them, sharing in their caresses and declarations of love. But my role had changed drastically. I was their slave now - by my own request.

I had begged Ramon to make me suffer and asked Caroline to help me convince him that that was what I wanted. I expected to get satisfaction from suffering. But the two had decided that the best way of making me suffer was to deny me any satisfaction.

After some time had passed Ramon came to check whether the plaster had dried. I heard him make a phone call and a little later a man arrived to remove the plaster. He grinned when he saw me tied up on the floor. "That's going to be a masterpiece," he said to Ramon. "I'd love to take a cast of her entire body."

"Maybe another time," Ramon answered. "For now, I just want a sculpture of her cunt."

The man removed the hardened plaster very slowly, taking great care not to break the mould. Some of my pubic hair had got trapped in the plaster and I winced as he pulled it out with the cast.

As soon as the man had left, Caroline appeared, naked and hugged Ramon. "From what Jacqueline told us yesterday, I gather that you like sticking your cock into young ladies' asses." She allowed Ramon to kiss her fleetingly. "How do you like this one?" she asked as she turned around and bent down to display her ass to him. She had already applied copious amounts of jelly to her hole and was ready for penetration.

Ramon hugged her from behind and fondled her breasts. "What about her? Shall we leave her here?"

"No. Let's take her back to the chair so she can watch."

They removed the spreader bar, lifted me up from the floor and walked me back to the chair, where Ramon tied me up as he had done the previous evening. I spent the rest of the day and evening tied to the chair, watching my masters make love. What an exciting sight it was to see Caroline take Ramon's full length in her ass! My pussy creamed and screamed for attention, but I knew that it wasn't going to get any.

Some time the next day - I had lost the notion of time, but I remember that it was after my breakfast and bath - the man who had taken the plaster cast returned with a box under his arm. "Ah, the model herself," he said when he saw me sitting there, tied to the chair.

"Her name is Cunt," Ramon replied.

The man showed Ramon the finished sculpture and both Ramon and Caroline nodded approvingly.

The man got another, smaller box from his jacket. "And here, as you requested, is the pendant. I made it in stainless steel, as specified."

He took a pendant on a silver chain from the box. The pendant was about the size of a one-euro coin, large enough not to go unnoticed. Ramon looked at it briefly and then handed it to Caroline who inspected it carefully.

"Excellent," Ramon eventually said. "That's exactly what I wanted." He thanked the man as he lead him to the door.

"My pleasure," the man said with a wink. "If you need anything else, just give me a call."

Ramon approached me and showed me the sculpture. It was set inside a glass box and left no doubt that it was the faithful representation of a pussy. I was amazed how clearly discernible everything was. I could even identify the curls of pubic hair covering my mound. The pussy lips were slightly parted and the inner lips were visible. One could say, this was a pussy waiting to be fucked.

"This is your cunt, Cunt," he said as he put the medallion around my neck. I could see that it contained a reduced-size representation of the same pussy, set in relief.

"From now on, you will wear this tag at all times. You may only take it off when you take a bath and when you go to sleep. You will hang this sculpture on the wall of your room or place it somewhere else where it is clearly visible. When people ask you about the sculpture or the pendant you will tell them that this is your cunt. You will explain to them that the purpose of these representations is to remind you and others that you're nothing but a cunt. You will reward those who have taken the trouble to show interest in you by either sucking their cock or eating their pussy until they climax.

"They will be astonished about the offer, reluctant to accept. You will insist. The words you will use are 'Sir - or Madam - my oral service is an offering from my master. Please do not refuse or my master will punish me.' You will report daily by phone how many cocks you've sucked and how many pussies you've eaten. You will also report how many people have refused your service.

"I have set a target for the number of oral services you have to perform before your purification goes on to its next stage. You will only know this number when you have reached it. However, you should be aware that for each refusal the number increases by ten. Disobeying our orders, particularly masturbating without permission, will also result in an increase of your target.

"Throughout your purification you will not expose your cunt, your ass or your tits to anybody other than your master and mistress."

The first one to ask about the sculpture was - not surprisingly - Arlette. She returned shortly after I had arrived in our room from a weekend excursion with her latest boyfriend. When I told her that she was entitled to have her pussy licked by me she said, "Thanks, I've had enough excitement over the last two days. Maybe another time."

I insisted. I told her why I couldn't take no for an answer.

"Your master? Is this some new game he invented? Tired of unwrapping his girlie-present, is he? Well, alright then, I don't want to be responsible for your getting punished."

I wanted to make this a memorable event for her. I wanted her to come back and ask for more. It would help me to reach my unknown target. It would be better to lick her in the privacy of our room, rather than satisfying complete strangers. It seems that I achieved what I wanted: not only did she ask for more, almost on a daily basis, always wondering how long her good fortune would last, she also spread the word amongst the large group of female students she knew.

When I went to attend the lectures on my schedule the next day, the unusual pendant with the clearly identifiable motif attracted a lot of attention. Initially, I found that male students were less inclined to ask me about the medallion. But when the few who did ask mentioned the reward they had received for their interest to the others, the number of male students approaching me increased. I managed to find an unused storage room on the lower ground floor where I serviced most of the men. My female customers were more particular about where they wanted to be serviced, and most of them requested that I pleasure them in their rooms.

When the appointed time for phoning through the first day's score arrived, I had licked eighteen pussies and sucked twelve cocks. But there had also been two refusals. Two girls had mistaken the effigy of my pussy as the emblem of some esoteric sect dedicated to female fertility and asked me about it. When I told them the real significance and told them about the reward they had earned themselves, they took flight. They disappeared so quickly, I didn't even have a chance to reiterate my offer. Losing these two meant that, although I had spent most of the day sucking dicks and licking pussies, I had only reduced my unknown target by ten.

"And how many times did you frig yourself off last night?"

Caroline had answered the phone and taken down my progress report. Now she stated my offence matter-of-factly, as if she had been present. How did she know? Well, she knew because she knows me. She knew I didn't have the iron willpower to refrain from making myself come. Not after having spent the whole weekend watching her and Ramon get their rocks off. I had indeed fingered myself into oblivion.

"Five times," I said, feeling like I had been caught with my hands in the cookie jar.