Chapter 6

I was distracted again at work the next day. I’m much too worried to concentrate on my job. As the time nears when I’ll have to put myself back into the hands of Tom and his perverted friends the harder it became to avoid thinking about it. It got worse when I returned from lunch and found a package on my desk.

I sat down and stared at it. It’s wrapped in brown paper. There’s no note with it. There’s nothing on the outside to indicate who mailed it. It’s addressed to me at my office address. In big red letters across the top is the word personal. I’m afraid I know who sent it, though. Somehow knew that Tom mailed this package to me at my office as a warning as much as anything else. He’s reminding me that he can just as easily mail incriminating photographs or DVDs to my employer.

I opened a desk drawer and started to put the package away. I don’t even want to look at it. I dropped it in the drawer and started to close it. But I can’t stand not knowing. I have to look. I have to know how bad it is. I put it back out on my desk and cut the string holding it closed. I looked up to make sure nobody is watching and I slowly peeled back the paper.

As I feared, it’s from Tom. He must have gone shopping at the adult bookstore again. Inside is another crop top. I opened it up enough to see what it says on the front. It says “Sex Slave” in big black letters.

I felt myself getting faint for a moment. I sat back and took a deep breath. I forced myself to calm down. I looked to see what was under the crop top. It’s another of those loincloth style skirts. This one is even worse than the other one he has been forcing me to wear. The small flaps of material hanging down from the front and rear are rounded off, not square like the first one. Without even picking it up I can see that even standing still I’ll be nearly naked with this on.

I started to close it up when I spotted something else under the tiny skirt. It’s a tiny, see-through piece of cloth. It’s a thong. Not a garment I’ve ever worn before, or ever intended to wear. It’s almost all string, except for a tiny patch of material which may or may not cover my pussy. It will be close. Then I spotted the note.

I heard someone coming down the narrow corridor between cubicles in my direction. I snatched up the note and shoved the package into my drawer. Whoever had been coming turned off before they got to my cubicle.

I took several more deep breaths before I got up the nerve to look at the note. It just reminded me to be at his house tomorrow morning at ten. I’m to wear the garments in the package and my highest heels. That’s all it says.

I put the note in my purse. I pulled the package out again and taped it shut. Then I looked at the clock. I have an hour to go. I sat at my desk, shaking like a leaf, and stared at the clock.

When it was finally time to go I walked out to my car in a daze. As I left the parking lot I tried to remember how much rum I have left. I can’t, so I stopped on the way home and bought another bottle, just in case. I’m reasonably certain it won’t go to waste.

I got home and went right for the rum. I was still making my drink when there was a knock at the door. I almost screamed, “Oh shit!”

But instead, I said it quietly, under my breath. I went to the door and let Bill in.

He looked at me. He can see I’m upset. He asked, “What the hell is wrong? You look like shit!”

I finished making my drink and took a long gulp before I handed him the note and set the package on the counter. He read the short note. After glancing at me he opened the package and held up the three garments inside, examining each item very slowly, one item at a time.

He tried to look sympathetic but he can’t hide his hard-on. Fucking men!

He may or may not feel bad for me. But if he does it didn’t stop him from taking advantage of me. It certainly didn’t stop him from imagining me in that skimpy outfit.

He grabbed the package and my drink and pulled me down to my room. He placed my drink on the nightstand and said, “Try them on. I have to see this.”

“Asshole!” I thought. I want to scream it at him. But really, what would be the point?

I got undressed and I stepped into the tiny thong. I pulled it up into place. The tiny piece of transparent material only just covers my slit. At the very most it’s three inches long and no more than half an inch wide at its widest. I sighed when I realized I’m going to have to shave off the little bit of pubic hair that remains over my slit before I leave here in the morning.

I stepped into the tiny skirt and pulled it up. The front flap starts at my hip bones and curves down and around in a semi-circle. I had to push the waistband down several inches below my naval before the little scrap of material covered my pubic area.

The rear flap is even smaller. It bisects the cheeks of my ass. It’s only about five inches wide in the back. I turned my back to the mirror and saw that because I pulled it down far enough to cover me in front there are at least two inches of the crack of my ass showing at the top.

I put the tiny top on then. It’s as thin as the others he bought and made me wear so my nipples are quite visible and it’s cut just as short. They didn’t use any more material than they think they have to. The bottom half of my areolae are exposed but only as long as I don’t move. It gets worse when I move.

I doubt if even the hungriest of hookers would wear something like this!

I took a few steps and sat down on the side of my bed. I held my face in my hands and cried for several minutes. How on earth can I make myself leave my apartment tomorrow dressed this way?!

Bill may feel bad for me. But not bad enough that he’s going give up his free pussy. He let me cry for a few minutes before he finally said, “You have to admit, you look pretty fucking hot! Jesus!”

He picked up the phone beside my bed and called Nick. He told him to come right over. There’s something he needs to see. The enthusiasm in his voice when he told his roommate to come right over made me furious. But I didn’t say anything. Not at first. What would be the point? He doesn’t really care about me or how I feel about all this. Despite his occasional halfhearted attempt at sympathy all he really cares about is fucking me. Fucking men!

I waited, biting my tongue until he hung up the phone. I finally couldn’t hold back. I looked up at him and said, “Thanks. Thanks for all the fucking help!”

He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. I had nothing else to say to him after that. I sat there in silence until a minute or two later when Nick showed up.

They made me stand up and pose in my new outfit. Then they both started undressing. I got out of my new slut suit. They put me on the bed on my hands and knees and then they both took at the same time the way they’ve seen so many other men rape me in those nasty pictures.

They both came quickly. But it wasn’t long before they switched ends and fucked me again. Thankfully the whole sordid rape only lasted about thirty minutes.

I collapsed onto my bed when they were finished with me. I lay there and stared at the ceiling while they got up and got dressed in silence. They left then. I heard them as they walked down the hallway, talking excitedly about my new outfit. I heard them joking about how good the next set of pictures on the bastard’s website is going to be. Bastards!

I finished my drink and took a shower. Then I went out to the kitchen and made another drink. I don’t really feel like eating. I’m getting a steady diet of cum lately but I decided to make a tuna fish sandwich and I ate it while standing at the kitchen counter before going to my room with the remainder of my second drink.

I sat up in bed and stared at the new outfit. It’s sitting on my dresser where I put it when I took it off. I sipped my drink and as much as I hate to think about it I can’t help wondering what’s in store for me tomorrow.

Once again I started thinking I might as well not go. That bastard from The Camera Club is posting my pictures on the internet and he’ll soon be selling the horrible movie he made. Eventually people I know are going to find these things. My life is already as good as over. It’s only a matter of time before I’m ruined. Why not just tell Tom to go fuck himself?

I can’t, though. I can’t let it happen without at least trying to keep the damage to a minimum. The thought of what Brian will think when he sees those pictures and movies is all the motivation I need to go back to Tom’s apartment tomorrow. I know the bastard would send copies of that horrible stuff to Bryan and my family if I don’t go. There’s no doubt in my mind. I know my father would have a heart attack if he saw them.

I don’t know if I’d lose my job or not when my boss receives his copies. I wouldn’t be surprised, though. I have no other options. I have to go back there tomorrow. I’m trapped.

I got up the next morning and spent ten minutes or so removing all the hair from my pubic mound. I took a shower and dried my hair. In my bedroom I stared for a long time at what I’m going to have to wear when I leave my apartment this morning. I’m getting ill just thinking about how awful it’s going to be.

I delayed getting dressed until I couldn’t put it off any longer. I finally forced myself to put on what little there was of my newest slut suit.

When I was ready to leave I looked out through my living room window. It’s a busy Saturday morning. Lots of people are around. Worst of all, there seems to be an unusual number of kids. I know I’m going to hear about this from any number of parents. I waited until the last possible moment but that turned out to be counterproductive. It only got worse, not better. The longer I delay the more people I’ll have to walk past on the way to my parking spot. I gritted my teeth and made a rush for my car.

Everyone stopped and stared, just as I knew they would. But I made it to my car without any uncomfortable encounters with my neighbors. I saw the shocked looks on a lot of mother’s faces, though. I know there are going to be repercussions.

I drove to Tom’s apartment and hurried to his door, anxious to be admitted even though I know I’m entering the lion’s den. The same three men are waiting for me today. I guess Harry and John aren’t a regular part of the group.

As soon as I arrived they checked out my new suit and complimented me on my close shave. They didn’t even make me undress first. They put me right to work giving all three of them blowjobs.

I’ve had a week to recover from the horrible abuse I experienced last weekend. I expected taking their cocks into my throat would have been easy after being ravaged by all those big, black cocks. It wasn’t, though. Not at first. I had to struggle to force Tom’s cock down my throat. And once I managed to swallow the damn thing it was still difficult and painful for the first few minutes. But gradually I adjusted and by the time I finished with Tom it was easier than it should have been to suck his cock that way.

One by one they all filled my mouth with cum. I straightened up after my third blowjob of the morning and Tom told me that we were going to pass the morning and early afternoon just like we did last week. We’re going to the pool. And just like last week, I’ll be taking on all comers.

He said that after thinking about it for a while he had come to realize that fifteen minutes in the apartments was too restrictive. He generously offered to make allowances for circumstances this time. He gave me a bottle of lotion and a can of beer and said, “We’ll do this the same as last time. You remember all the rules, right?”

I nodded and they started for the door. I called out, “Wait! Where are my bikini bottoms?”

Tom smiled and said, “Today you just take off your skirt and wear those panties for bottoms. Remember, if you aren’t being fucked or hit on you go in the pool for a few minutes every half hour. Then you find someone to oil you up. Now get your ass out there.”

I couldn’t breathe for a minute. I struggled to function. I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths. I pulled my slutty top back down over my nipples with shaking hands. I fought back the tears as I stepped outside and looked over at the pool. It’s getting crowded already.

As we got close I saw several people I recognized from last week. The college boys are there. They were obviously excited when they spotted me. I saw the older gentleman who seemed so concerned about me but fucked me anyway. The two black kids are there.

I couldn’t look at anyone as I unbuttoned my skirt, folded it and tossed it under my chair. I heard the people near me, even over the deafening sound of my blood pounding in my ears. The hushed, “Oh my god!” and the woman exclaiming in disgust, “Look at that slut!”

There was more. Thankfully most of it was unintelligible. But I could tell from the sounds of their voices what they’re saying, what they’re thinking. I sat down and took a big sip of beer. The thought of having to walk to the pool in this tiny outfit, for all intents and purposes bare ass naked, is just about all I can take. I’m so scared I’m afraid I might vomit. It didn’t help at all to tell myself I did this last weekend. It’s unbearable all over again.

I almost hoped that someone would come and make me go to their apartment before I have to go in the pool. I thought it would be better to be fucked in private than to parade around the pool like this.

As it turned out, I got my wish. One of the college kids approached my chair, stopped and looked down at me. He’s grinning like an idiot but he knows what he wants.

I looked up at him and when our eyes met he said, “Sex Slave, huh? Does that mean you’re still putting out?”

I nodded.