Chapter 18
Used and Abused
The address Ramon had given me turned out to be a sports centre. I had been thinking about what the second phase might entail and had been nervous all day. In the end I arrived there well before the appointed hour which gave me a chance to have a look around.
I recognized Ramon's car amongst the small number of vehicles parked outside. There were remarkably few cars, considering the size of the complex. When I entered the place, I realized why there were so few cars. Most of the facilities had been temporarily closed down for renovation. The squash court, the gym and the indoor swimming pool all showed signs of the workmen having been in there, stripping walls, removing equipment.
The sounds coming from behind a door marked as 'Main Hall' indicated that there were people in there, probably engaged in some kind of game. I opened the door just a little to allow me to peek inside without being seen. A five-a-side soccer match was in progress. I managed to spot Ramon amongst the players. I remembered that he had told me not to interrupt him. I closed the door quietly and waited in the corridor, somewhere between the main hall and the men's changing room.
Shortly after the final whistle, the players came out of the main hall and went past me into the men's changing room. Some of them were drenched in sweat, others looked still quite fresh. Some looked downtrodden, others were talking cheerfully about their victory. Most of the men were in Ramon's age range - late twenties to early thirties - but there were a few who seemed barely twenty years old.
Particularly these younger men looked at me with undisguised interest. My attire was conservative by my own standards. The dress I was wearing disguised the shape of my body - but it was quite short. It seems that my bare thighs attracted the men's attention. They probably would have been even more interested had they known that I wasn't wearing any panties.
Ramon was the last one to emerge from the main hall. I could tell from his face that his team had not won the match. He seemed to be deep in thought, maybe trying to figure out what went wrong, when he noticed me.
"Hi, Jacqueline, what are you doing here?"
"My name is Cunt, Sir, and I'm here because you told me so."
"Oh yes, how could I forget?" Ramon said, still sounding as if his mind was somewhere else. "Come with me."
Ramon opened the door to the changing room and lead me inside. It was a large L-shaped room. The long part of the L had lockers and benches along the left wall and a large number of showers on the right. In the smaller part of the L, there were several wash basins with mirrors. In this part I also noticed a billiards table which looked completely out of place. I assumed that it had been moved in here while the refurbishing work was under way.
Most of the men were showering, a few had already finished their shower and were in the process of drying themselves or getting dressed.
"What's this woman doing in here?" one of them shouted. This made everybody else look in my direction.
"This isn't a woman, it's a cunt," Ramon replied.
He lead me to the billiards table and made me bend forward so that the top of my body and my arms rested on it while my feet were still on the floor. He made me spread my legs and lifted my dress so that my bottom and pussy were exposed to anyone who cared to look.
Ramon told me to look straight ahead and not to turn around, no matter what happened.
"Anybody want some cunt? It's free. Come and get it," he shouted to the men in the room.
I could hear some mumbling behind me. Someone said, "Is this some kind of a sick joke?" probably doubting that Ramon was serious about his invitation. Others were inclined to believe their luck. "Now that's what I call generosity!" one of them shouted. The voices came closer. Several hands touched my bottom. "That's a nice piece of ass," someone said. Then a hand slipped between the crack of my bottom and to my pussy. "Gosh, she's really looking forward to this. Her cunt is sopping wet," the man exclaimed.
My pussy was in fact dripping wet. The thought that Ramon had handed me over to these men, to do with me what they wanted, really turned me on. The hands on my bottom and pussy had aroused me even more. I was waiting eagerly to be fucked - something that hadn't happened to me for almost a month.
The man who had touched my pussy was getting ready to put his cock where his hand had been. I could feel the head of his dick pry my pussy lips apart, when someone else shouted, "Hang on a moment! I think the winning team has the right to go first."
There was a heated discussion about this claim.
"Nobody told us there was going to be this kind of reward. Otherwise we'd have played with much more determination," someone argued.
"Say what you want, you've lost the match. And losers come last," another one retorted.
In the end, the losing team conceded reluctantly that the winners had the right to use me first.
"Winner number one going in," the first man announced as he thrust his cock all the way into my pussy. I cried out in pain. I was wet, but this sudden, violent attack hurt nonetheless. This man was fucking me for his satisfaction and his satisfaction alone. He didn't care whether I loved or hated this treatment. And it was particularly this disregard for my feelings that turned me on. I wanted to be used like a cheap whore.
The man was probably putting on an especially virile performance to show the others what a fantastic stud he was. He held my hips in an iron grip and drove his cock into my pussy with long, forceful strokes. With every thrust my legs were squeezed against the edge of the table. His strokes became more urgent as he spasmed and deposited his seed deep inside my pussy. His orgasm triggered mine and I let out a deep moan as my juices mixed with his.
As soon as he vacated my pussy, another man took his place. "Winner number two going in," he declared. If anything, the second man was even more violent than the first one. With each thrust he withdrew his cock completely and then slammed it back into my pussy, causing me to scream in agony. My pussy lips were sore from the persistent onslaught and my vagina felt raw. "Leave something for the rest of us," one man shouted as he heard me scream.
If the second man made me suffer like this already, how would I feel after the two teams were through with me? "You wanted it rough, didn't you?" I told myself. "You wanted a dose of pain with your pleasure. There's no point in complaining now that it hurts."
Fortunately, none of the men was interested in long, drawn-out sex. They wanted to jerk off, and using me for this purpose was much more rewarding than using their own hands. It only took a few minutes for each man to fill me with his spunk. They no longer announced whether they were a winner or a loser. As soon as one man was finished, another one took his place without giving me any rest. My cries turned into a continuous wail.
I had made it a habit to keep track of the number of cocks I sucked and the number of pussies I licked. The same way, I counted the number of men who fucked me. I stopped counting after I reached eight. Somehow I figured that, with two teams of five and Ramon not participating in my gang rape, number nine would be the last one. But it didn't stop. There were more men than I had expected and some of them probably came back for a second helping. They all filled my pussy with their cum until it overflowed. The jism seeping out of me ran down my thighs.
"Jeez, this cunt is filthy!" my next attacker exclaimed. "How can anybody fuck something like this? I'm going to use the other hole."
My tortured pussy had become used to the continuous abuse of their frenzied attacks. It still hurt, but the pain had turned into a dull background sensation that seemed to be part of my orgasms. When the new attacker rammed his cock into my unprepared rear, my screams reverberated through the sports centre. He slammed into me relentlessly, praising the exquisite tightness of my ass. Each thrust into my wounded hole made me scream anew. With a mighty grunt the man released his semen into my rectum.
My noisy reaction attracted other men to my rear hole, now slightly lubricated by the first man's cum. They added to my discomfort, fucking my ass and shooting their load into my rear hole, until this orifice was also oozing gunge. One man returned to my pussy, but when he came he pulled out and sprayed my bottom and the back of my dress with his cum.
"What did you do that for, dickhead? Look at the mess you've made," the others complained.
The man who had been next in line to fuck me balked. "Christ, this ass is slimy. I'm not going to stick my cock in there." Others, too, lost interest in me. They called the state of my pussy and ass 'sickening', 'repulsive' and 'disgusting'. I could hear the men return to their lockers to get dressed. Some had another shower. Then the place turned as quiet as a cemetery. The only audible sound was my own sobbing.
I lay still, letting my tears flow freely without holding back. Those tears were not just caused by the physical pain I felt. Those men hadn't just hurt my pussy and my ass, they had hurt my pride. Their actions had shown clearly that they had no interest in me as a human being, as a woman. For them I was just a warm-blooded object with two holes. They had used and abused me mercilessly and when they had got me into a state where I was too dirty for their liking, they had dropped me like a hot potato.
When Ramon had said I was nothing but a cunt, it was clear from his voice that this was a desperate attempt to break the spell that indiscriminate sex held over me. He thought that by confronting me with what my obsession was doing to me, I would change. Those people hadn't actually called me a cunt - I realized none of them had bothered to say a word to me - they had simply treated me like one. Their actions had been more forceful than words could be.
Once more it became clear to me that I wouldn't attain any satisfaction from submitting myself to mindless sex with complete strangers. Even the most rigorous master cared for his slave, but these people didn't give a damn about me.
"They've gone, you can get up now." That was Ramon's voice. I shuddered at the thought that he had been present all the time, watching what those people had done to me. I felt his hands on my shoulders, helping me to pull my upper body upright. My whole body hurt, particularly the parts my tormentors had ravished. My legs were barely able to support my weight.
Ramon took me into his arms, filthy as I was. He kissed my tear-streaked face. "Go home, Jacqueline, have a rest. Call me when you have recovered, when you're ready for the final phase."
I wanted to clean myself, take a shower, but Ramon insisted that I should leave immediately. I walked with difficulties. My ass and pussy ached with every step. I could feel the men's cum trickle out of my holes, running down my thighs. The smell of the spunk was on my body and my dress. I couldn't possibly take a bus or hail a taxi in a state like this. It would be a long and lonely walk. I had to pause frequently to gather strength. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached the comfort of my room. I was glad that Arlette had already left. I showered and then slumped onto my bed. I would have loved to have a bathtub where I could soak my punished body in a soothing bath. But at least I still had a supply of the ointment the gynaecologist had prescribed me some time ago.
My sleep came in fits and starts. There was a recurrent dream which woke me frequently. In my dream I lay slumped on the billiards table with cum oozing out of my pussy and rear hole. But the table wasn't in the sports centre; it was in the open air, on a street, a public square, in a park - it seems that the location changed with each version of the dream.
People were passing and looking at me. Most of them remained anonymous, but some I recognized. There was my father, who said, "This slut is not my daughter." Ramon looked at me, saying, "You're nothing but a cunt." Caroline repeated her exclamation, "God, you're a real slut." Others, whose face I did not see called me 'filthy cunt', 'slimy ass', 'repulsive', 'disgusting' and 'sickening'. I got up and had another shower to make sure I was completely clean.
But there were also some positive comments. Ramon said, "Vous êtes très jolie," and, in another scene, "I love you, Jacqueline." Through a haze I heard Caroline say, "I've been missing your golden tongue." Marie, Roxy's maid, joined the group, declaring, "It will be a pleasure to fuck you, Mademoiselle."
Every time I woke, I tried to understand the meaning of my dream, but soon I drifted off into sleep again. When the day broke, I had had very little rest. I was dead tired and my body was aching all over. Every move of my legs sent bolts of pain through my raw pussy and ass. I didn't have the courage to leave my bed. I lay there, trying to make sense of the events of the last twenty-four hours - and particularly the feelings I had experienced and was still experiencing.
My pussy and ass did not belong to me. If it pleased my master to let others use them whichever way they wanted, then I should be happy to give him that pleasure. But this explanation didn't fit what really happened. Ramon hadn't handed me over to the soccer players for his gratification. He did it to teach me a lesson. He wanted me to understand that letting my pussy take control of my life would get me into trouble, would lead to pain, injury and humiliation.
I had felt the pain; I was not immune to the abuse my poor body had suffered. My screams of anguish had been real and involuntary. My tears had not been faked. But in spite of the pain this had been a sexually gratifying experience. I had climaxed every time one of the men filled me with his spunk, my pussy had creamed from the rough treatment it experienced. The initial shock over the rough, inhuman treatment had made me deny that I experienced pleasure. But now I had to admit to myself that I actually enjoyed being treated like this. The pain would pass, my injuries would heal, but the memory of an evening of wild, satisfying sex would remain.
This was the part which Ramon did not understand: That I needed pain and suffering to experience complete fulfilment. With very few exceptions, the most intense pleasure, the most fulfilling sex had always been accompanied with pain, discomfort, humiliation. It had made me go beyond the limits of what I considered possible, bearable. Telling me that I was just a cunt would only result in my affirmation, 'Yes, I am, and I need to be treated like one.'
I had this theory that my desire to mix a measure of pain into my pleasure was the result of my father's influence. Although I had rejected his condemnation of anything to do with sex on a conscious level, maybe I felt subconsciously that I was committing a terrible crime when I enjoyed myself. I had developed this urge to suffer pain or humiliation whenever I indulged my insatiable appetite for sex. And like an alcoholic needing larger and larger quantities of hard liquor, I seemed to need more and more pain to compensate for the increasing lewdness of my actions, and I seemed to thrive on being humiliated in the process.
Caroline seemed to understand this desire instinctively. I remembered an episode which happened long before I had talked to her about my ambition to become Ramon's slave. That day she had literally dragged me into her bedroom as soon as I arrived at her apartment. She had flipped me onto her bed, straddled me, pinned down my arms with her knees and pushed her pussy into my face. I could see and smell that she had been fucked only a short while ago. Remainders of cum were clinging to her skin and pubic hair. I would soon find out that there was more inside her vagina.
"Lick," she ordered, "I've kept some for you." I wasn't shocked - as most other women would have been - by her demand to perform this unspeakable act of lasciviousness. I was pleased about the opportunity to add another experience to the growing list of obscenities I had committed. I licked her pussy, sucked the unknown man's semen out of her and left her meticulously clean and extremely satisfied.
Later she told me that the stranger had been a sales rep who arrived at the office just as she was about to leave. He wanted to interest her boss in some new, enhanced products which his employer had to offer.
"My boss had already left. Normally I would have just told the man to come back the next day, preferably after making an appointment, but he looked gorgeous. Just looking at him made me tingle all over. And it seems that I had the same effect on him, because his cock rose visibly inside his trousers.
"I took him into my boss's office and told him to have a seat. I locked the door so that nobody would surprise us. Then I simply undid his belt, opened his fly, pushed my panties to the side and rode his wonderful cock until he came. I kissed him to stifle the noise he produced when he shot his cum into me. It all happened so quickly, the poor guy probably didn't know what had hit him. You could say this was a 'wham, bam, thank you mister' kind of a fuck. He wanted to invite me for dinner, for a drink, for a chat, but I told him I had to go. 'Come back tomorrow,' I told him with a wink, 'maybe you'll get lucky', then I hurried home to share his blessing with you."
The dog collar Caroline had given me as a present only two days ago seemed comparably insignificant, but I took it as an outward sign that she had accepted ownership of me. I was pleased about this. I knew her well enough to realize that she would be a demanding mistress; I knew that I could expect merciless torture and devastating orgasms. I was looking forward to her putting me through my paces.
Ramon seemed to be more reluctant to assume ownership of me. Sure, he had embarked on this 'purification process'. He had subjected me to the abuse and humiliation of the first two phases and announced that the third, final phase was still to come. But wasn't all of this done with the intention of 'curing' me of this 'mad desire' to be his slave? Did he have any intention to discipline me, to use me, as Caroline probably would?
Ramon had talked about the threesome with Lola and said he wanted to achieve the same kind of happiness with Caroline and me. That declaration pleased me no end. The night with Lola had been one of the few memorable occasions when I had achieved complete satisfaction without pain. I was willing to do whatever Ramon asked from me to experience this sensation again.
I wondered if there was going to be a repetition of the previous night's events. I imagined a slightly different scenario: Ramon would parade me naked in front of the two teams before the match so that the players had a clear idea what reward awaited the winning team. I would watch the match, locked up naked in a cage, and the winning team would be given the key to the cage. They would take me to the more comfortable setting of a hotel room where they would have not only my pussy and ass, but also my mouth and tits at their disposal. Whenever they found that I was too filthy they could send me to the bathroom to clean myself before they continued.
As I pictured the scenes in my mind, my hand slid down between my legs, but the intense pain told me that I was in no condition to enjoy myself, not even from my own hands. I had to smile and shake my head about the kind of pervert I had become, craving for more sex before I had recovered from the previous night's exertion.
Or was all this just a product of my rebellious spirit? Was I denying that I had learned my lesson, simply to oppose any attempt to put the brakes on my sex drive? What kind of a slave was I then? One who decided what her master should or should not do?
This last thought made me realize what a strange concept I had of my life as a slave. Wasn't it the slave's role to follow her master's orders, to do as she was told, and to be grateful to her master for allowing her to live in his shadow? I still had a lot to learn, and I would have to work hard to keep my rebellious spirit under control.
I decided that I would follow all of Ramon's instructions to the letter, and that I would be grateful to him for what he decided, no matter what it was. That decision finally gave me the peace of mind for a deep, restoring sleep.