* * * *

Disclaimer: If you are easily offended by blatant sexual stories, are under 18, or have a heart condition, don’t read this. If it is illegal in your state to possess this literature, then don’t possess. All within is pure fiction - I guess.

* * * *

(On a side bar to you Heather - you are still my protégée, and I’m not dead yet. I still have a lot of acts in my bag. Here’s my idea, so now it’s your turn to put up or shut up. JK)

As the legend goes, the prestigious Belmont Hotel, located somewhere in New England, is the last stop you’ll remember after signing the Ledger of Agreement. How you find your way to that Ledger is by invitation only. It starts by patronizing one of those large erotic reading web sites. After reading one or two hundred stories, a day will come when a three question survey will come up on your screen. You might think it is just the usual pop up ad, but if you pay close attention to the questions, you will see it is something much different.

The first question is to name your favorite story from the site. The second question asks which character in that story you would most closely relate to in your fantasies. The third warns you to think long and hard before answering, and then asks if you wish to take a free trip to the Belmont Hotel. If you answer “yes” to that last question, you could very well find yourself signing into the Ledger.

Case # 02411

As I looked around the lobby I was amazed by the glitz and glamour of the place. This hotel had to be at least a hundred years old, yet it had obviously been retrofitted into a much more modern look on the inside.

I was shaking uncontrollably, yet hopeful that no one else near me might notice. I couldn’t believe I was actually here and especially after answering all those questions on the second survey. It had warned me to answer truthfully if I really wanted an all expense paid trip to this hotel, and now I feared I might have answered a little too hastily; a little too honestly. I was beginning to feel like the first character to die in a bad horror movie. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and headed for the front desk.

The clerk asked how she could help me and began pushing a registry book towards me. I told her that I had a reservation for room 113, and she pulled the book back. She reached under the counter and as she pushed a sheet of paper my way she told me in a very sweet voice, “Just sign at the bottom and I’ll show you to your room.”

I began to read all the fine print over the signature line, but she reiterated that I should simply sign the paper and called me by name without my ever telling her it. I stared at her soft features for a moment and realized that whatever the paper said, it was already too late to get the nerve to back out of things now. I signed the paper. The girl came around the desk and said, “Please follow me right this way, Miss Sonya.”

I spoke up and said, “That’s my first name, I’m actually Miss…”

I saw she was totally ignoring me anyway, so I never finished my name. As I followed her, I surmised that she had to be in on all this and decided to keep my mouth shut. She led me to the last room on the right. In a fourteen story hotel, I sort of expected something like this would be done on the top floors, but we never went more than a couple hundred feet from the front desk. The clerk opened the door for me and as I passed in front of her, she spoke again.

“I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Miss Sonya. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Again with the first name! I watched as she walked back towards the front desk until she rounded the corner. I peeked around the door jamb to make sure I was alone and entered the room. It didn’t look like anything special, just a typical hotel room. The last message I received from those people online told me I would be perfectly safe and never in any real harm, to arrive just before dark, and to be sure to sign the Ledger of Agreement. Done, and done! Now what was I waiting for?

I needed to take a pee, so I went into the bathroom. Halfway through doing my business, I looked up to the mirror to see a post note on it. I wiped myself and stood to read it even before pulling up my panties and skirt. It simply read – Now go to bed and sleep.

What the fuck? I’m half out of my skin in anticipation of what I’ve gotten myself into, and they think I’m just going to sleep? I paced the room for a good twenty minutes and remembered all the answers I had given on my second survey and began trembling… and getting excited. Was this a dream or a nightmare?

I took another deep breath and decided to “grow up and face the music” as my dad always told me. I shut off the light and began undressing. Since I hadn’t been allowed to bring anything but a picture ID of myself, I was going to have to sleep in my underwear. I figured the ID was just to prove I was really who I claimed to be and that it might be pretty important to keep on me, so I stuffed it into my bra to keep on me. I chuckled when I thought about how my driver’s license nearly doubled my figure, and moved it into the top of my panties instead.

I went over to the bed and just as I was about to get in, I saw a tiny ray of light on the wall directly across from me. I went over for a closer look and saw it was light from the room next to mine. Something told me I knew what it was all about and I hastily went for the bed. After getting into it and pulling the covers up around my neck, I took a last look at the light and thought about how it was either a peep hole or a camera to keep an eye on me.

I spun onto my stomach and buried my face into the pillow and began praying everything would be alright. Before I could think twice, I realized I was getting very light headed. I picked my head up and looked at the pillow with the little bit of light coming in from the street. Just as I was beginning to understand that there was something on the pillow that was forcing me to pas out, everything went dark.

BAMMM!!

I was awakened by the noise in front of me. It appeared to be a door getting slammed open by the gurney I was on. The first thought to rush to my head was that I had been in an accident… but then I remembered my trip to the hotel and wondered what had happened to me.

I couldn’t seem to move a muscle or even say a word, but that didn’t stop the terror in my mind from running rampant. There were a couple of women to one side of me as the bed I was on came to a stop. I felt myself being flipped over onto my stomach and then something was being pushed into my mouth. Even though I had never had one on me before, as it was fastened into place at the back of my head, I knew I was having a ball gag placed securely into my mouth. I struggled to breathe through my nose as I heard someone telling me to relax if I wanted to get enough air to keep from passing out. I struggled to do as I was told but found it very hard to relax.

I saw my arms being pushed to either side of my head and wanted to cry as I saw some kind of a wooden yoke being fitted around them and my neck. I tried to cry out when I saw one of the women holding a syringe up in front of me, and then plunged into someplace to my side. I assumed I got it in my arm someplace. I realized it was some kind of a drug to wake me up from whatever had been used to knock me out back in the hotel. The more conscious I became, the more I understood that I hadn’t survived my trip to the hotel yet; it was just starting.

Soon I was able to muffle slight screams into the gag in my mouth and then felt my muscles coming back to life. I could feel tears coming to my eyes and all I wanted was to call this whole sick trip off. What was going to happen to me?

“Welcome to the true Belmont Hotel, Miss Sonya. Now that you’re prepared and alert again, let’s start your little fantasy, shall we?”

I saw a man off to one side of me and he picked up a paper from the side of my gurney. He examined it for a moment and held it up for me to see.

“Is this your signature on the bottom of this paper,” he asked?

I wasn’t sure if I could get away with a lie, and slowly nodded my head as tears ran down my cheeks.

He smiled and asked, “And where’s your ID? It wasn’t in your clothes.”

I had to think for a moment and when I remembered, I lifted my head to look down my body. I was still clad only in my bra and panties, and nodded downward. The man looked puzzled as he looked me over and then saw the outline of my license tucked under my panties. He smirked and reached behind him to grab for a pair of scissors. When he brought them down to my abdomen, I lifted me head over fear that he was going to stab me. It was worse however, when he began cutting away the sides of my panties. After cutting the leg holes away, he gripped the top piece of cloth and ripped them out from under me. I dropped my head momentarily knowing that this man could now see every detail of my bottom.

I felt his hand pulling my leg to one side and I lifted my head again to see him begin fingering my lips as if examining me. He took a couple of full handed gropes over my entire pussy and smiled as he lifted my ID off my belly. He held it up for me to inspect and asked me if I was the person on the ID. I began sobbing around my gag as I nodded my head for him.

The man then ran the tips of the scissors up my belly until the tip went under the center tie of my bra and cut it loose from me. He delicately pulled one cup to the side and over my shoulder, and then ripped the bra out from under me. I watched him turn and throw both of my now useless garments into a trash can behind him. I took that as a horrible sign that I would never need them again and cried harder.

The bastard began fingering my nipples and made several disparaging comments about the size of my chest. Okay, I know they’re small. An A cup was still too large for them, but I was already going through a big enough head trip. I didn’t need to be ridiculed about something I had no way of changing and being told for the millionth time that I looked like a twelve year old boy.

A sheet was pulled over my entire body as a voice told me to leave it where they put it. I was too afraid to do otherwise and I was then pushed through what I assumed were several connecting hallways. The lights grew dimmer all the way until the gurney came to a stop.

I didn’t dare move even to look around; opting instead to try to make sense of what was happening to me. My mind ran through all the questions on the survey and how I had answered them. I remembered the fit of horniness I had been in when answering the questions and realized that like it or not, the fantasy things I had elected were about to happen to me.

It was the short essay at the end of the questionnaire that really scared me. I had just reread one of my favorite stories and it was close to my thoughts. I couldn’t remember everything I had written, but I knew the gist of it was that I wanted to know what it was like to feel sold into white slavery, and then taught the one sex act I had always wanted to learn but was too afraid to do every time a guy tried to teach me.

As I lay under the sheet feeling like a dead body waiting to be embalmed, my mind stay fixed on my essay. Many scenarios ran through my mind that scared the hell out of me. Thinking of being nude in front of even one person is so embarrassing to me with my flat chest. Now I feared that I might very well have to deal with being in front of several men. I began feeling ashamed of all the answers I had given, especially since in order to strip in front of a guy I would usually require that the lights be out.

I guess what got me here in the first place was my body’s underdevelopment. The people I surround myself with are natural sex pervs that really don’t bother me about my delicate scale. Most of the guys I’ve dated seem to be into the fact that I’m so petite. I’ve always sort of looked at guys like that as pervs that might also like little girls a little too much. But in my position, I couldn’t afford to be picky. There was no way I was going to get implants just to get a boyfriend, and so I learned to make my personality my greatest sexual attraction. It’s amazing what a girl can do if she learns how to flirt properly enough.

A door banged across the room I was in and I immediately tensed up in fear. I felt the gurney begin to move again and then it grew even darker under my sheet. I found myself making muffled moaning sounds around the gag in my mouth to display my fears to whoever was guiding my cot. I heard a man’s voice asking if I was the last one and I heard a woman answer “yes” to him. That meant that I was among others that had opted for a free stay at the Belmont . In a weird way, that helped me cope with my situation.

Someone seemed to be tucking the sheet under my head and the yoke around me, and then I screamed into the gag as the table I was on began falling forward. I slid off of it for about six inches and suddenly stopped. I understood that I was on some sort of a foot board that was meant to hold me in a leaned back position against the gurney and it appeared that the yoke holding my hands immobile was attached to the top of the gurney as well. I tried to figure out what good this position would be to anybody and started screaming when the only possible conclusion was to be on display. I cursed the very words I had written.

A woman pulled the sheet out from behind my head and let it fall to just above my nipples before tucking it into place again. My eyes quickly adjusted to the light and as I looked around I saw another gurney to my left and two to the right of me. We were arranged in a shallow semi-circle that afforded us glimpses of each other. There was a man on one of those gurneys to my right and a middle aged woman on the other. As the sheet was pulled away from the head of the gurney to my left I saw it was another man, or more precise, a guy about my age. We were all constricted by the same type of wooden yokes with our hands held next to the sides of our heads. We all shared the same type of ball gags fastened securely around our heads, as well.

It was plain to see that I was about to get my wish of being sold into slavery. I could imagine one person at a time coming into the room to inspect the four of us to make their selection. I felt sweat dribbling down my arms and chest over what I had gotten myself into. It seemed like our captors had left us alone almost as if to study the fear in each other’s faces. The contract I presumed we had all signed online to advance to this point, had said that they would help enlighten our views by using our fantasies as a reward. I wondered just how far they might go to carry out those fantasies.

About ten minutes later the lights got brighter over our heads and a well dressed man came into the room. He stood in the middle of us and gave us all a quick once over. We received no information as to what was going to happen, nor any warning when suddenly a curtain was washing across what I had thought was a wall in front of us. I saw that at least several dozen people were watching over us from many rows of seats directly to our front. I began freaking out and twisting all around, but all that did was allow my sheet to fall away from me and exposed my body to the many rows of seated people in front of me and the others to each side of me.

I was mortified as it fell away and all eyes came directly my way. I twisted my legs together trying to hide my crotch and that seemed to spark a flurry of excitement among the audience. I looked at the man seeing my predicament and begged with my eyes for him to cover me up again. Instead he walked in front of all of us and began addressing the assembled collection of bidders.

“Here we are at the moment you’ve all been waiting for, and it seems like Lot 2 is anxious to get the bidding started.” There was some laughter at my expense and then he went on. “However, over here we have Lot 1 and the bidding on him will start at a thousand dollars.” He snatched the sheet from around his body and I saw he had a lithe body, and oddly enough, an erection. “As you can see, he’s no man’s man, but he’s sure to prove to be very obedient to his buyer. He’s one hundred and thirty pounds of young nubile flesh and has a firm desire to be used repeatedly by men or women as their plaything.”

Two men came out from behind us and pulled the man off the gurney and dragged him to the center of the stage area. A metal pole with a horizontal piece across the bottom of it was lowered from the ceiling and the man’s yoke was attached to it. The pole was drawn back into the ceiling and the man began stabbing the air with his feet as they left the floor. Tears began rolling down my cheeks again as I knew I would be going through this treatment soon.

The apparent auctioneer described every inch of the young man’s body and when it came time to describe his privates, the two helpers that had put him on display came back and each grabbed one of the man’s legs. They pulled them forward and spread them as the auctioneer fondled him while describing in great detail the man’s attributes. They spun him around to face me and again they tugged his legs towards the audience, forcing him into an arc facing towards the floor. This time the auctioneer described the man’s ability to be used anally to please his purchaser.

The bidding was started as the poor man was freed to swing around and was even spun to twirl before the audience. I felt so sorry for the humiliation he had to be feeling and wanted to die when I thought how it would hit me. The only difference I was seeing between the man up for bid now and myself was that I knew I wasn’t aroused by all this. That guy still had a wicked boner standing out from his body.

I looked at the two people beside me and we exchanged looks of despair at what was awaiting all of us. For a fleeting moment, I thought about how closely this resembled what I had written in my essay and wished I could fly back in time to change my wishes. I heard the final call for bids and realized that I had been holding my legs together for so long that they were beginning to ache. I watched as the final bids went by fifty dollar increments and almost seemed like a bitter exchange between two bidders.

With a loud bang, the auctioneer declared the “goods” sold and he was lowered back to the floor. Some things went on between the winning bidder and the auctioneer. And then I think the most humiliating thing I had seen yet was when the man began counting out eighteen one hundred dollar bills into the auctioneer’s hands. He was actually buying another human being… to be used for unbridled sex, and in this day and age. Suddenly, I felt ashamed of myself because as I thought about that same thing happening to me, I felt my entire crotch grow wet with desire.

I wished I had thought things through better before taking the offer they threw at me. I had just shaved my crotch a few days earlier for bikini season and now between my lack of boobs and slight showing of pubic hair, I really was feeling the part of a twelve year old boy. I felt my yoke being tugged forward and realized I was the next one up for bids and began kicking my feet all around. I kicked at the men dragging me to the center of the stage and screamed into my gag non-stop. I felt the bar being attached to my yoke and then in a heartbeat, my feet were dragged forward until they left the floor; leaving me hanging by my neck and wrists. The auctioneer picked up a card to read from and began my sale.

“Here we have Lot 2 and she seems a little more reluctant now that she’s the center of attention than she was a few minutes ago. First she couldn’t wait to show off her cute little figure, and now she’s turning into a shrinking violet. Some people like that.”

I held my legs crossed to hide myself, but I knew I would be getting manipulated just as the man before me had. I never felt so naked in all my life as I hung there in midair before all these fucking people. I felt like a fish wiggling on a fisherman’s hook.

“I can assure you that this little one is indeed of age despite her lack of breasts and… hem, hem… sparse maturity in her lower regions. So, for any of you that have a penchant for the younger ones, you can’t do better than this.” He grabbed onto my left nipple and squeezed it hard, “I know, I know, you’re wondering if this is really a girl or a tranny.” His hand went to my crotch and worked his fingers between my viselike grip to proclaim, “I also assure you that this isn’t the result of good cosmetic surgery.”

I looked away to keep from seeing the prying eyes of those that might have interest in me, but the humiliation just kept getting worse. The man felt a girls’ normally biggest secret when he fingered at my pried together lips. He went on to tell all in the audience my embarrassing secret.

“And what do you know… she appears eager to diligently serve her new owner. If she were any wetter down here, I’d be in need of a pair of waders. Now that’s excitement folks. We’re going to reward her exuberance with a starting bid of two thousand. Who will start us off?”

I heard several people offering the minimum instantly and something in me snapped. I swung my legs violently to get away from the hand toying with my crotch. Froth and my own spit came out around the ball gag in my mouth and drooled down over my chest. The more I struggled, the louder the crowd grew. I was crying so hard. And they seemed to feed off that.

The helpers came over as the offers for me slowed down, and they grabbed my legs as I kicked at them. They spread my legs to an ungodly width and pulled my body forward a little on the hanging bar. The auctioneer began probing between my lips and pinching hard at my clit with his fingers and that forced me to calm down to keep from getting hurt. The crowd was shouting all kinds of ideas for the man to do to me, but he brushed them aside to further the price being offered for me. How could these people actually be offering thousands of dollars to buy another human being? We were still in the United States , weren’t we?

“Will anyone give me another hundred for this perfection of girl flesh? Imagine all the fun you’ll have with her when you get her home. Look at her marvelously youthful appearance and tell me you can’t wait to defile her. Do I hear another hundred?”

Several people began a bidding war for me and to my dismay, two women were among them. One of the women even asked to see my backside and I found myself being spun around and having my wide spread ass shown to them for a close up examination. The pain on my wrists was getting unbearable in this position and I screamed into my gag again and again.

The offers for me slowed again and I was spun to face forward again as I heard the auctioneer asking for anyone to beat the forty-two hundred dollar bid he had. I couldn’t believe the price I was fetching, nor what that person might expect from me. But another round of bidding started for me when the auctioneer offered a new bit of information.

He came over to me and grabbed the gag in my mouth with his fingertips and began twisting my head around by it. “And one more thing about this package you may be interested in. Lot 2 has expressed concern over her inability to swallow a man’s cock. We tried to assure her that anyone could do that if given the proper incentive. Anyone here like breaking in a young nubile mouth? Come now, we must have a man or two here looking for some refreshing entertainment. Perhaps one of you ladies might wish to purchase her for your husband to use in this way. By the looks of her cries, this may be the only way to keep the young thing quiet while in your care.”

Finally, I heard something among the shouts and bidding to give me some measure of hope that I was going to live through all this. The man stated, “while in your care”. That certainly had to be a positive sign that this was just the very exercise I had bargained for; though I wish I could now retract.

The bidding stopped again as my legs were released and I rotated at the mercy of the hanging bar attached to my yoke. I clamped my legs shut again trying to hide my vulva from those peering up at me. Never in the history of man could anyone have felt this vulnerable. I heard the final bids run the price for me up to fifty one hundred and stared at a huge man grinning sadistically up at me.

The auctioneer pushed on my body to send me swinging towards the man as I heard what would be the true final offer; and it came from a woman.

“My husband will owe me dearly, but I’ll give you fifty-five for that dear piece of delectable flesh.”

I looked over to see a woman twice my age wearing a sheer black dress and a benevolent smile. A last call was put out for me and then I heard the most fateful word in my life… 

“Sold - and to the beautiful lady in the stunning black dress. We’ll have your package ready for you in just a few moments, my dear.”

The hoist that had been holding me in the air lowered me back to the floor and I looked around hastily trying to figure out what next was coming my way. I could feel the weight of the yoke come back to my shoulders, but it was of greater relief to feel the weight of my body off my wrists. One of the men tugged me off to the side of the stage as I saw the next woman, Lot 3, getting her body revealed to the remaining audience. She too squeezed her thighs together in a futile attempt at trying to hide her embarrassment. I looked back once more before being dragged through the doorway and saw the woman that had won the bid counting out the thousands of dollars she had paid for me. My god, I was nothing but property to her.

I found myself being brought into a small room just off the side of the stage and laid across a table barely a couple feet off the floor. A couple of stirrup gadgets were swung up to the top of the table. They were much the same as women always see in a doctor’s office, but the straps around them left no doubt that they weren’t a voluntary aid.

My body was yanked closer to the edge of the table and my legs forced into the stirrups to be cuffed in place by some velcro-like straps. The stirrups were them swung away from each other to spread my legs wide. A door off to one side opened and as well as the one I had been brought through. From the one behind me came a man with some sort of tool in his hand that freaked the hell out of me. From the side door came the woman in the black dress that had bought me. I looked to her for help, but all I got back from her was a “Shush now, little one. This will be over in a few seconds.”

I struggled against my bindings. What would be over in a few seconds? What the hell were they going to do to me?

The man with the tool came around and plopped a clipboard onto my belly and pawed at the flesh of my inner left thigh. It seemed like he was checking for a vein much as a nurse might, but I had never heard of getting a shot there before.

The man asked questioningly of the woman hovering above me now, “ Lot number is 0-2-4-1-1, right?”

She looked at the small card the auctioneer had been holding as he had read descriptions of me to the audience and answered, “That’s right. Tag the little bitch for me. My husband is going to be so pleased with my purchase.”

All I could think of was how she was treating me as if she had bought a new hat, or perhaps more fittingly, a sexy piece of new undergarment. A towel was thrown over my right thigh and the man grew close to me with that damn tool leading the way. I finally figured out that it was a tattoo gun much like the one that had been used on a boyfriend of mine last year. I was getting a tattoo? What the hell was going on?

The second the gun started vibrating and touching my skin, I screamed out. It wasn’t all that painful, but I think it had more to do with getting an involuntary tattoo that bothered me. They had no right to use my body as a marking board. Luckily, it only took the man a couple of minutes to pronounce that he was finished with me and I felt him wiping away the blood from his actions. I lifted the yoke with my head to see what I thought had to be a small flower, but it wasn’t a tattoo at all. I had been marked as the property I had been sold as with the number associated with my sale… #02411. Nothing could have ever made me feel more owned by another person than that stupid little one inch long brand. It stated so much and as I looked up at the woman’s face that now laid claim to me, she seemed so pleased that she was the cause of this happening to me.

My legs were released and brought back to the table, and I was stood up. Someone began releasing my hands from the yoke and then fidgeting with the lock to release the whole thing from around my neck. I immediately swung my hands wildly as it was removed, but two men restrained me quickly while some device handed to them by my new owner took the yoke’s place. I soon found my hands forced to clasp behind my head as a leather bind of some sort was placed around my head that encompassed my hands as well. When they were done, I found I was in some leather headgear-type of hood that held my wrists together to the back of my head like cuffs.

I was trying to figure out the limits to this new contraption when my new female owner stood in front of me and leaned over to kiss me. I couldn’t back away from her and then I felt one of her hands groping at my crotch. A finger darted right into me so easily that I knew this wasn’t her first time fingering another girl. She squeezed the finger inside of me closed over the thumb she held tight to my clit; thus essentially holding me by my G-spot in a death grip. It hurt a little, but in a weirder way, it aroused me into a soothing calm. I think it was her way of telling me that she knew my weaknesses and could easily control me. Her confidence went a long way in making me feel more relaxed in her hands. I even became somewhat receptive to her kissing me through the mask.

When she released me, I heard and felt a velcro-like band being placed over my eyes to blind me and I was warned to stay quiet through the next leg of my journey. I was then led out of the building, into the fresh air where I had to wonder who might be seeing me, and then pushed into the trunk of a car. I fought that and received a hard slap to my ass to accept it. Less than five minutes later I was being dragged from the car trunk and haphazardly dragged into a house somewhere.

I heard the woman greeting her apparent husband and telling him to look at what she had bought for him to play with today. I felt hands wandering my body, and when the hands came to a rest over my tits, out came the inevitable, “Are you sure you bought a girl?”

The woman told him to stop teasing me and that she wanted to hear all the vile things I had to sling at them. I felt myself being dragged into another room and slammed down face-first onto a bed. I believe it was the man that sat on my back as he first removed the head gear from me without releasing my hands, and then I finally got that damned gag out of my mouth. My jaw ached so badly that every word I tried to speak sounded alien at best. But even before I got to say a coherent word, the head gear was wrapped around me again. In the few seconds I had to see before being blinded once more, all I had made out was that these people had to be rich. Who else could have spent over five thousand dollars for a human sex toy?

After the guy got off me, a spun onto my back and relaxed to hear whatever I might be able to detect them saying. The woman didn’t hide her words in the least and told the man that she had wanted to buy me for her own use, but passed on me because of the price. But, apparently the auctioneer had changed her mind when he had jested the women into bidding on me for their husbands’ sake.

Then came the one fear I had often mulled over as I masturbated; the fear of being choked by a man’s cock working its way deep into my throat as if it were my pussy. I don’t know what I found so intoxicating about that being done to me, but every time I had successfully talked a guy into trying that with me, I would suddenly grow fearful and push him away from me. I think it was more the fear of getting choked to death than of him cumming there, but then that seemed like a pretty sick thing to let a guy do to me, too.

Either way, I certainly didn’t care to have that happen to me as my hands were restrained and unable to fight back. The idea of being totally helpless is only a fantasy that no girl really cares to have happen to her. Or, at least that was how I felt about it at the moment.

I felt the bed jostling under me and then my legs were snapped apart. I felt fingers probing me and then clearly a mouth was absorbing my entire crotch into their mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was the husband or the wife eating me so voraciously, but they were doing a better job of it than any guy had ever done to me before. When I heard the man speak, I knew it was the wife doing me and then she started with her fingers again. Unfortunately, every touch down there seemed to reverberate to my fresh tattoo and start that pain all over.

I felt her mouth pull away as she began explaining my delicate parts to her husband, as well as my Lot number. It wasn’t an anatomical lesson, but more a descriptive one of how I looked and tasted so young down there. Her fingers deftly toyed with my lips and my “little man” to a great extent until I felt the two of them switching places. He was much more rough in his attack on my crotch and I could see a plain difference in how a guy wishes to concentrate on only getting himself off, as opposed to the wife that seemed to want a more mutual outcome.

I felt as though my lips would work properly now and began begging for my release. I offered to do for them whatever it took to earn my freedom and the women turned dominatrix on me and replied, “You bet you will.” And then to her husband, she began telling him how much she wanted to see him torment me with a throat full of his cock. I started crying and bellowed how that had only been a fantasy and after several guys had tried and failed, I knew it was impossible for me to do.

Instead of bowing to my pleas, I had only made the man more determined to prove me wrong. I felt him yank me by my legs to the bottom of the bed, and then worked around until my head was falling off the foot of it. I kept lifting it until one of them put a palm to my forehead to hold it down and the woman said, “It’s really all about how you go about doing it, my dear. Too many girls never understand how you have to line the man up with your throat first. After you get good at relaxing your throat for him, then you can take him just about anyway you want. Show her what I mean, dear.”

Tears began running towards my forehead under the mask and I begged for them to release me until I felt fingers forcing their way into my mouth. The man was probably testing me to make sure I wouldn’t maim him and thrust his fingers to the start of my throat. I gagged repeatedly as he explored the depth they could penetrate, and then I felt him replacing his fingers with his cock. Fear took over my actions immediately and I knew I had to either try to cooperate, or I would get choked to death for sure.

It seemed that he was either getting me use to the size of his cock, or use to his thrusts. His wife was giving me instructions on how and when to relax my throat and even put the palm of her hand over my throat to feel my actions. I made a huge mistake of getting overly worried at the worst time and slammed my head upward after getting gagged harshly. I could tell by the man’s scream that I had slammed my forehead into his balls and that only made him mad as hell. He began taunting me with what I was in for now and spewed the word “bitch” over and over at me.

Even his wife no longer seemed soothing to my fears and told him to teach me a lesson about fighting back. My fingers tried in vane to push his legs away from me as I felt him probing my mouth to see just where my resistance kicked in. The woman warned me not to make the mistake of hurting him a second time. When the guy had his cock as deep as any guy ever had within my mouth, he kept pushing on it. My body twisted and I kicked my legs in defiance, but the last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt him again and tried my hardest to relax my throat despite the evil thing poking unmercifully at it.

I felt both of his hands on either side of my head to hold it still for him, and then I grew absolutely terrified as I felt the head of his cock pop through the sphincter muscles of my throat. I was frozen in fear as I felt every tiny detail of his girth pulsing in me deeper than I ever imagined possible. He held it still for a few seconds, and then pushed deeper into my throat until his wife excitedly told him that she could feel his cock through my throat. When he finally withdrew, I gasped hard for a breath of air and choked on its rush into my lungs.

The wife gave me instructions on how to breathe properly and how he would only give me a certain amount of time to cooperate in that respect. I heard him say, “Here we go again, and I felt him working his cock back into my mouth. He took a few test humps at me, and then came that severe pushing again. I forced my mind to give up its fight, and then the unforgettable feel of his cock sliding past all the normal protections of my body overwhelmed me. I felt the fullness as he kept sliding into me until the pubic hair on his balls tickled my nose.

My fingers curled into tight fists behind my head in their restraints. I heard the woman saying she knew how to make me relax for her husband’s efforts and felt her hand fall away from my throat. She worked her body onto the bed and between my legs, and just as he was allowing me another breath, I felt her begin licking through the folds of my pussy. I choked for air again, and with so many things happening at once, I nearly failed to breathe before his fingers were forcing my mouth open again. I managed a small breath before my airway was sealed off for a third time, and then my mind went blank as I felt his cock sliding smoothly into my throat. The woman’s’ hands both encapsulated my throat from the outside again and then I felt the man go into a fucking motion as he was buried as deep as he could go.

Strangely enough, it was his words of acting like a “good bitch” for him that seemed to do the most for my mental state. I will never be able to explain it, but those nasty and debasing words seem so encouraging at such a time of struggle. They meant I was successfully serving his purpose for me and that I was somehow a good girl for being as talented at a sex act as was necessary to please him. As he withdrew from my throat, the feel of his fullness sliding so easily out of me made my fingers open to full extension. I gasped for air without choking this time and beyond explanation I found myself holding my mouth open for his next plunge into me. He was pleased with my effort and told his wife, “She’s getting the hang of it; now for the real fucking.”

Her hands ran to my nipples to twist them and tug at them wildly as the tool was once more pushed to the stopping point, and again forced further into a slide down my throat. This time my fingers twisted in my hair through the mask and when the woman’s tongue darted into my hole, my pelvis lifted her face off the bed along with it. The most horrific sounds of struggle were emanating from deep within my throat as I waited for his thrusting to begin. And when his fucking motion did start, my body betrayed me by having a wild orgasm while still holding the woman’s face into the air.

It was at that very moment that my fears began washing away and I found myself working to accept the torment being thrust upon me. Time and time again, the man used my mouth as a secondary pussy while his wife seemed to be using my actual one as more of a mouth to French kiss. And for the first time in my short life, I felt ever so womanly as hands pawed at the immature humps on my chest; twisting and kneading them as if they were huge and fruitful.

Even as the man was growing closer to his own climax and became very aggressive in the way he was using my body, I played the part I had been shown as on the stage earlier. I was little more than their inanimate sex toy, and I felt oddly wonderful and pleased to be getting used so plentifully at their hands. I had one last trial to capitulate to and it came to mind as the man told his wife that he was about to feed me.

Maybe it was the way he said it so crudely, or just the fact that I’ve never liked swallowing for a guy in the past, but my anxiousness returned in a flurry of involuntary twists and turns. The hands holding my head in place renewed their effort to keep it still, and I heard the woman laughing at my fear of getting force fed a man’s sperm this way. Everything fell into slow motion as I quickly gulped for a final breath and he plunged directly as deep as he had been getting me use to; and held still. I knew what was coming and struggled to relax my mind. Every woman knows that the worst possible time to struggle against a man is when he’s about to get off. It seemed to take forever until I felt the feel of a warm flush spewing into the deepest part of my throat possible. I could feel his cock pulse several more times, and then the warmth flowing into me with each spasm. My fear of being fed this way was quickly overcome by my need for air and I have never tried harder in my life to be cooperative to a man’s efforts just to make him finish faster.

When he finally extracted himself from me, I made the sickest gurgling noises as his cum was mixing with my gulping of air. I was flailing around in my blind state trying to get my breathing back to normal. The fact that not all of his cum had cleared my airway hampered that effort, and I found the only way to alleviate the obstruction quickly would be to swallow several times quickly to finish the job.

I felt one of them pulling the strip away from my eyes to allow my sight to take in the things around me. The first thing I saw was the implement that had just been used on me. It was already going back to its normally flaccid state, but knowing I had just been fed a meal from this soft, pink intrusion sent my mind reeling in all directions. I had never thought about swallowing a man’s freshly made sperm as a meal, but the thought of it in that way seemed interesting titillating to me as I took in the room around me.

Over the next hour or so, I found my body being constantly manipulated for my two owners for every imaginable use. Little was ever said directly to me and my words were instantly rebuked with threats. One thing being made perfectly clear to me was that with the mask covering my face and my hands tucked securely behind my head, the both of them were viewing me as a much younger girl than I was. If I was being honest, I would have to admit that I liked having this treatment in the past because of how wild and excited the men, or boys, got doing it to me. As a female, the feeling of driving a guy nuts as he molests your body’s most intimate parts is highly charged with eroticism. My petite build gave me the advantage of enjoying that pleasure long after it ends for most women.

Everything grew very weird after they locked me into their bedroom for a couple of hours. I was told to lie in the center of the bed and to not move an inch under threat of punishment. I was told they would be watching me via a monitor and so I stayed perfectly still for the entire time. All I had to placate my mind was what they had been doing to me. Even the things that had hurt a little made me smile under my mask. I was feeling more confident that I would be getting released when they were done with me, and I remembered that the contract I had read signing myself over to these people in the fist place had denoted that everything had to be over within a twenty-four hour period.

The two things that kept creeping back to the forefront of my thoughts were the very things I had been worrying over just hours ago. I had experienced the things that I had stated in my surveys and now that they were over with, I found that they had been every bit as wild as they had been in my past masturbatory fantasies.

The door opened to the bedroom and fearing their wrath, I didn’t even bother looking at them. I could see the woman come over my face and she had such a wicked grin on her face.

“I hope you’ve been having a good time in here all by yourself. I’ve been watching your legs twitch. You’ve been thinking about what we’ve done to you, haven’t you?”

I knew she wasn’t really posing a question to me and held my frozen stance. I saw her face twist into a perplexed state and then I got the weirdest demand of my life.

“This is the deal, sweetheart. My hubby and I just got some news that we have to leave here early in the morning. So, I have a proposition for you. You can either stay locked up in the dog kennel in the basement until we get back, or you can choose to fulfill my husbands sick little fantasy and get released in a couple of hours. You’re choice!”

All I could bring myself to say was, “Now!”

She lifted my head to show me that her husband was busy setting up a video camera on a tripod, and then dropped it back to the bed. In a whisper, she began telling me what was required of me. I guess she didn’t want to spoil things for her husband. What she was instructing me on doing was twisted in its entirety, but she kept telling me that if I didn’t sell myself completely for the camera, I would be dumped into the kennel immediately.

I took in her words and even though the thought of committing to the role playing she was instructing me on blew my mind, I kept thinking of going home. I was assured that the tape he was making would make its way onto the open market, but since I would be wearing the hood, I needn’t worry about being spotted by anyone that might know me. I kept telling her that as much as I wanted to be released, that I just couldn’t act that well; especially over such a sick scenario.

The woman grew mad at my last balk and told her husband to forget the camera; I was going into the kennel. I quickly told her I would sell my role and do exactly as she was telling me. She smiled over winning my cooperation and began giving me explicit lessons to portray my role even better. What she was asking me to do seemed impossible, but after she told me to prepare myself, I buried my face into the pillow to force myself into the role laid out for me. I switched my real fear into that I would need to sell my role, and even ran through my head how I would have acted if the proposed scenario had actually happened to me.

A few minutes later I felt one of them come behind me and place the blindfold back over my mask. The woman gave me a last reminder to give an academy performance and all went silent.

A minute later I felt the bed jostle and a hand ran over my exposed buttocks. Fingers ran over the number on my inner thigh. My female owner had insisted I make up my own dialogue and to be extremely verbal to allow the viewers to understand what was happening to me. I knew the best way to set the scene was in one sentence. I went for a high pitch that came out rather squeaky.

“Is that… is that you, daddy?”

The tough part was over and now I just had to keep it going. I was spun around and the husband acting as my lecherous father began kissing me through my mask quite forcefully.

“Please, daddy. You’re scaring me. Please take this thing off me. I’ll be good, I promise.”

His mouth and hands ravaged my small mounds and he bit at my nipples until I felt them grow hard and perky.

“I’ll behave, daddy, I swear. And I won’t tell anyone. Please… please release my hands.”

I had to fight everything in me that told me that my real father would have never been able to do this to me. But as I felt him working his legs around my body to sit on my chest, I truly felt like a little girl beneath him and that made me fall further into my role.

I felt his cock rub across my lips and asked, “What’s that? What are you doing to me? Please, at least take off my blindfold.”

He was making it obvious that his role was going to make me fellate him and I foiled his first attempts to get his cock between my lips several times just as I would have at the age I was suppose to act. After he got his cock working into me, I started crying and gagging; mostly for the sake of the camera. Hell, he could have pushed it into my throat again and I would have worked to help him, but that wasn’t what was expected of me.

After getting very verbal with my crying, since I couldn’t be out rightly verbal, he ripped away my blindfold. I squirmed around his cock pretending that I was repulsed to see it in my face. I let my tears and muffled protests continue as he worked his cock off. He even gripped the sides of my mouth to force my lips tighter around his shaft. When he began spewing his cum, the first of it went into my mouth and then he purposely shot the rest over my mask, nose and eyes. I pushed the sperm in my mouth out knowing how the nastiness of his act in pretending to rape his own daughter would be more evident that way.

A great deal of time was spent from there on molesting my body for the camera’s benefit, and when he was hard again, he did the most unusual thing I had ever seen. He stood over me on the bed and while facing my feet, he lifted them up. Soon, he had my legs under his and next to my head, thus only leaving my ass exposed to the camera with him just about sitting on the under sides of my thighs. I felt like a pretzel.

He sat up on his knees and aimed his cock to my hole, and began trying to stuff himself into me. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks all the while and he didn’t really seem to want to enter me. That was a good thing, because at his angle it wouldn’t have been terribly easy for me to accept him. It seemed like he was portraying a pervert that was more or less just going to rub himself off on my crack for the audience to witness. The one time he did get the head of his cock started into me, it hurt enough that my ass flew up into the air trying to make his aim less intrusive, but I got a slap for moving and I cried out.

I think that fearful reaction turned him on even more and soon he was insisting on fucking me bent up as he had my legs locked up under his legs. When he slammed his cock back into me, his hands reached behind him to force my legs wide and I cried out in the very way a young girl might.

“Mommy… mommy! Help me! What’s daddy doing to me?”

At least half my stress was very real from the awkward misdirection of his alignment, so my squeals for help weren’t entirely made up. When he finally got his cock buried deep enough into me that it wasn’t going to fall out, he started bouncing on my ass in a fucking motion. His motion was crushing me beneath him, but without my hands to control his actions, I was totally at his mercy. He spent a good five minutes fucking me that way until I finally heard his grunting moans of discharge.

He stood up and allowed my legs to fall flat again and his cock leaked drops of cum onto my belly. When I saw the wife coming near me, I thought my role was still going and I begged, “Please mommy, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone what daddy did to me. Pleassse?”

She sat down next to me and cooed for me to relax and not be frightened. Her hands went around to my head and I felt the mask falling free and I lifted my hands over my head until they rested in my lap with the rear of the mask still holding my wrists together. I shook out my hair and thanked her in my little girl voice and saw her smiling wickedly back at me. I didn’t understand her grin until I noticed what she was looking at. It was the camera at the foot of the bed. My face was now in the movie which she had already told me would be up for sale shortly. I turned to question her over that fact when the most shockingly, terrifying thing ever done to me began.

“I’m sorry sweetie, but this isn’t the kind of film you thought it was.”

I was puzzled but what she could possibly mean by that, and I looked over to see her husband approaching the bed with a cloth in his hands.

The woman looked more vicious than any face I had ever seen in my life when she turned it into a depraved smile and told me, “This is a snuff film, sweetheart. I’m sorry!”

With that, her husband lunged at me as the two of them fought to hold me to the bed and he held the rag over my mouth and nose. My mind went absolutely hysterical knowing I was about to die. I kicked and screamed into the rag. I thrashed my clasped hands at them, but soon everything began going dark and I felt my body fall limp.

          I awoke to a total mind blowing decayed state. I bolted upright and had to think for several minutes if I was really alive or waking up in some afterlife. I looked around me to see I was back in my hotel room at the Belmont Hotel, and it slowly came to me that they hadn’t tried to kill me; they drugged me to get me back to my room. The act was probably for the camera to actually sell it as a snuff film, but luckily it had just been a con.

I looked around the room for my clothes, but there were none. In total desperation, I called the front desk and asked them to send a woman to my room. I was going to have to ask her to find me some clothes someplace and tried in vane to come up with a reason for needing them.

There was a soft knock at the door and I stood behind it as I opened it a crack to speak to the woman I had asked to come. It turned out to be the very girl that had checked me in earlier. Instead of waiting for me to talk, she pushed her way in and handed me a pile of new clothes and sandals she was holding in front of her. I tried covering myself in front of her, but she laughed at me.

She said, “That must have been quite a dream you had. You’ve been screaming in here like you were in the middle of an orgy. Here, put these on.”

The clerk stood there watching me as I pulled on the panties she had brought me and I looked for whatever bra she might have thought to bring, as well.

“Sorry, honey. But I didn’t really think you wore bras yet. No one will notice anyway.” She threw the top at me and I pulled it over my head as I leered at her over her comment. “You remember much,” she asked me?

“It’s coming back to me,” I replied in a snotty fashion.

She held out a paper and shoved it in my face. “You remember this, don’t you?”

I saw it was the Ledger of Agreement that I had signed into the hotel with and nodded slowly. She tore off the rear copy and handed it to me. She then reached into her pocket to retrieve a card and handed that to me, too. It was my driver’s license.

The clerk summed it all up for me. “I hope you enjoyed your stay at the Belmont Hotel. Remember that we insist on total confidentiality; on our part, as well as yours. You only got what you asked for as stated in both the contracts and the surveys. In a couple of weeks you should receive a complimentary souvenir of your stay with us. Please, feel free NOT to tell your friends about us here. People come to room 113 by invitation only, as you saw.”

She stood and began to exit the room and turned back to me. “You are welcomed to stay the rest of the night, but people rarely do. If you wish to leave now, a wonderful woman in a stunning black evening dress has a limousine waiting for you out front to take you wherever you need to go. And again, I hope you did enjoy your stay at the Belmont .”

My jaw was quivering, but I knew there was something in my head that needed to come out. I ran to the door to catch it just before it closed, and called to the girl. There was no way I could have seen my mind forming the question, but somehow it did. “What if… what if… I mean to say. What if I wanted to come back again… sometime?”

She smiled at me and said, “It’s in your copy of the Ledger, my dear. Look it over when you have time.”

I closed the door and sat on the bed as I relived all that had happened to me. I ran my thumb lightly over the Lot number freshly tattooed into my thigh. There weren’t any serious marks or injuries to my body, and I had a world of dark memories to peruse for the rest of my life. I decided I needed to get someplace I felt entirely safe, and stumbled my way out the front door of the hotel. The girl behind the front desk gave me a curt smile and quick wave as I left.

The doorman asked me if he could get me a cab and I told him there was supposed to be a limo waiting for me. He raised his eyebrows and said he was aware of it. He whistled to the car and held the door open for me. I realized I didn’t have any money for a tip, and when he saw me searching my pockets, he smiled and told me none was needed. His parting words were what could only be expected once more.

“I certainly hope you enjoyed your stay at the Belmont , and I hope you choose to stay with us again in the future.”

Just as he closed the door, I answered in total mortification, “Yes, I did… and… I hope I will… someday.”

A dare and a challenge to all ASSTR writers that are capable enough to use a plot, proof read their work, and use a spell checker. I would like to open this story to all to use as a basis to write their own “case” story at the lovely Belmont Hotel. Just assign it a five digit number after the title, include the same two paragraph intro to let people know it’s the same series ( i.e.  As the legend goes…), and make it your hottest fantasy ever explored. It can be either gender that stays at the hotel, but all characters should be of age. Switch my name for yours of course; it may be my premise, but it’s still your story. And lastly, this very dare should follow your own story to keep the Belmont Hotel… full up with horrific legends of fantasies being made to come true.

If you have any questions over the story line that incubates the format/frame work premise of what happens, just write me and I’ll get right back to you. Have fun!

Click here if you would like to read other chapters or stories.

Or here to visit my other site.

If you liked this story, drop me an Email and give me your input.

If you visit this site often and wish to help ASSTR, please send a donation to help out.