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Her heart pounding in her chest, Sarah pulled the glass door open and walked into the lobby.  She nodded at Joe, the sweet, gray-haired security guard.  He said a cheery good afternoon to her with a big smile.  Feeling herself blush, she mumbled back, “Good afternoon.”

The elevator took forever, of course, and she worried about Joe wandering over and talking to her.  Fortunately, he ignored her just like she ignored him until the elevator finally dinged its cheery ding, and the doors opened.

She pushed the button for the nineteenth floor, and felt the slight annoyance she always felt.  It wasn’t really the nineteenth floor, it was the eighteenth floor.  Didn’t the idiots on the fourteeth floor know they were really on the thirteenth floor?  Or did they simply not care?  

The elevator was one of those smooth and fast ones, and with another annoyingly cheerful ding, the doors opened.  Suddenly she couldn’t ignore it any more; the reason she was here, the reason her heart was still beating fast, the reason the crotch of her black pants was already damp.  She walked to the third door, 1903 (at least they had gotten that right) and checked her watch.  It was three-fifte-seven; three minutes left.  She’d learned that being late was a very bad idea.  

She took off her jacket, made sure her cell and her keys were zipped up safe in the inside pocket, then folded it neatly and sat it on the tile floor next to Cole’s door.  After kicking off her Adidas high-tops (a recent gift from him), she unzipped her pants.  It was important not to think about it too much, not to think about it at all, if she could; she’d learned that much, at least.  She pushed the pants down—he hadn’t mentioned which panties she should wear, which meant she wasn’t wearing any—and stepped out of them, the open air caressing her moist pussy.  After folding them neatly, she pulled off her socks and added them to her pants.  She slid her tee over her head, folded it as she stood in the hallway, completely aware that she was wearing nothing but a bra.  The bra was always last.  He’d told her a hundred times how much he liked her ‘perky’ B-cups, told her another hundred times how much of an ass-guy he was and how beautiful she was, but still…  Quickly, she unhooked the bra and put it on the pile, like the decoration on top of a wedding cake.

Confident he’d be pleased with her neat pile, she kneeeled in front of the door, her back straight, her hands on her thighs, her ass resting on her heels, her toes curled under.  Then there was nothing left to do but wait.  The hardest part.  Had he looked through the peephole and seen his pet naked and waiting and on time?  This was the fourth time she’d waited naked in the hallway, after he’d decided it was no longer proper for her to step foot inside his place with a single stitch of clothing on.  The first time he hadn’t made her wait long at all, maybe two minutes (though it was the longest two minutes of her life).  

The second time… Sarah still dreamed about the second time.  Perhaps ten minutes?  That was the day the blonde from 1904 had opened her door, walked down the hallway as she tried to find something in her purse.  Her keys?  Suddenly she’d looked up and saw Sarah there, naked and kneeling and desperately wanting to disappear under the cold tile.  Of course the blonde would have to be beautiful, perhaps twenty-eight or thirty, dressed to kill in a little black dress.  No, hers were definitely not B’s.  The blonde drank her in, muttered a little ‘huh,’ as she kept walking down the hall, closer and closer.  When she got to Sarah, her fingers slowly trailed from Sarah’s left shoulder, across one shoulder blade, trickled across her spine and the other shoulder blade, and then up to the top of the other shoulder.  Her touch had been electric, and it felt like her finger tips had only reluctantly left Sarah’s bare skin.  The blonde slowly walked on to the elevator, eventually pushing the button, staring at Sarah hungrily the whole time.  Sarah had only dared look high enough to see her tall high-heels with the red soles, and her lovely calves.

It had been a new high in her humiliation, worse even than the trip to Petsmart.  She dreaded these wicked things he dreamed up.  Often she blushed just thinking about them.  But he’d figured out humiliation was her ‘thing’, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right.  He had unlocked her like a Chinese puzzle, for the world to see, and she’d deny him nothing.  

Not much had happened the third time, except she’d noticed there was a camera at each end of the hallway.  Figured out that why old Joe was so happy to see her each time.  Did Cole know about the—  

The door opened.  Her heart leaped.  He was barefoot, wearing faded jeans.  “Hello, pet.  You’re looking exceptional today.”  Damn, his words always zipped right through her heart.  From the start, he’d slipped through her walls like they didn’t exist, like they were paper mache and had never really existed.  She didn’t understand it, but here she was, naked and kneeling in the lush hallway.  His hand ran through her hair, then he pulled her head back and kissed her, a good long kiss, like he’d missed her.  His scent, lovely and strong, floated through her, making her think of sex, security, and being curled up on the couch together.  After the kiss, he stared at her, smiling, then kissed her again.  He was wearing the black Skillet she’d given him.  Relaxed and confident, as always.  

He pointed to her pile, and she dutifully handed it to him.  “I’ve got a couple of things I need to take care of.  I’ll be back.”  He shut the door.  Incredulous, she stared at the blank door in front of her.  This was new.  He’d left her with nothing on this side of the door but her sneakers.  What if there was a fire?  She imagined running down the stairwell wearing only her sneakers.  What if he keeled over from a heart attack while she was waiting?  He was twice her age; she was twenty-two, so she liked teasing him about such possibilities.  She’d even made up a fake AARP card for him, for his birthday.  He’d laughed about that, but her bottom wasn’t laughing about it later, when he was spanking it and asking if he was spanking her hard enough for an old man (at one point it had been so tempting to ask, “When are you going to start?” but she wasn’t that foolish).    

The hallway was so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat.  Her mouth was Death Valley-dry, and she really could have used a cup of water.  Perhaps she should ring the bell and ask for one?  The naughtiness of that thought made her smile.  Maybe she should crawl down to the blonde’s door and ask her for one?  She liked that thought, but she was nowhere near that brave.  And what if the blonde had a husband or a boyfriend?  What would she say to him?  

He made her wait, longer than ever before, her skin moist with her nervousness, her pussy crying out for her fingers.  He’s probably not even watching, it would say to her, just give me a quick rub.  It had been six days since she’d come.  And forty-three edges.  Yes, she knew the exact number.  She always did.  

Finally the door opened.  He stood there, a big, wicked smile on his face, her collar in his hand.  “Pet, do you want to come inside?”

She nodded.  “Yes, Sir.”

“Are you sure?  I have something special planned for you.”

Her pussy throbbed.  Dumbly, she nodded again.  “Yes, Sir.”  Why did she crave his wickedness so much?  Fuck.

He crouched down, held the collar out, undone, in both of his hands.  Like a well-trained sub, she moved her hair out of the way, then leaned forward on one hand and put her neck on the collar.  Though she’d done it before, the impact on her was always the same, the intense feeling of giving herself to him.  Strangely, it calmed her.  Her worries, her anxieties were now his (and there were more than a few).  She only needed to worry about pleasing him.  

A door opened in the hallway.  Her bare ass was still in that same hallway.  He didn’t move one bit quicker, still took his sweet time fastening the collar around her neck, then snapping the little lock closed.  She heard the chime that meant an elevator was on the way.  Who was it?  Not the blonde, she would’ve had to walk past her.  Why was her wetness dripping down her thighs?  

Her collar finally done, he stepped past her, into the hallway.  He said, “Hi, John,” to whomever was in the hallway. So if John hadn’t seen her naked ass before, he certainly saw it now.  

John said, “I see you’re having a good day.”

"I am.  You have a good one, too.”  He stepped past her, walked a few feet into the apartment.  “Come, pet.  Follow me.”  She knew to stay on her hands and knees.

Still recovering from the humiliation of the unseen neighbor, she crawled into the living room.  What she called his apartment was really a large loft.  She’d loved it the first time she’d seen it.  One end was a wall completely full of books, from floor to ceiling, which made her mouth water.  The other end was all glass, leading out to a big balcony and a mesmerizing view of the city.  There was also a ladder up to the roof.  Yes, she’d experienced both the balcony and the roof naked.  No, he didn’t care what the weather was like.  A sub’s life wasn’t meant to be easy.  

He sat on the coffee table, motioned for her to stand in front of him.  She was suddenly self-conscious that she’d come straight from the grocery store, that she’d worked hard and was a bit sweaty.  There was no doubt he could smell her sex.  She tried to stand up straighter; he was constantly reminding her of her posture, and she’d walked back and forth this very floor countless times naked and with a book on her head.  At the start, her ass had had been quite red from the book tumbling off after only a few steps.  She could now make it up and down the full length, and her posture was better.  

He made her spin around in front of him, his eyes as intense as a surgeon’s.  “You are beautiful,” he said, calmly and quietly, like it was the most obvious thing.  Sometimes he made her say it, but not this time.  Instead, he inspected her nails.  Yes, she’d been paddled when they were not neat and perfect.  Eight of her finger and toenails were painted a bright blue he liked, but her pinkies and her little toes were a pale pink.  This was to remind her that she was owned.  Protected.  Cared for.  He decided what color her nails were.  How long her hair was.  The panties she wore each day, and sometimes everything she wore.  He decided when she touched her pussy, when she didn’t, and when she came.  He even decided when she’d earned a Mountain Dew.  She’d always been rebellious, and yet she’d never been so calm as when she was around him.  So damn happy.  She didn’t understand it, but she’d quit fighting it.  Mostly.

His fingers ran over her mound, shaved smooth just that morning.  “Good girl,” he said.  She beamed.  He motioned her down, and she settled to her knees.  He said, “As I mentioned, I have something special planned for you.  Are you ready?  Are you going to please me?”

She swallowed, suddenly nervous.  “Yes, Sir.  I will please you.”

“Good girl.  We need to get you good and worked up.”  He stood up and motioned for her to climb onto the coffee table.  She did, on her hands and knees, and he gently pushed her head down to the table, her ass sticking high in the air.  “You are to edge seven times.  You will not leave this table until you are done and I release you.  You will clean your fingers after each time.  You will have one hour.  I have a few things to take care of, but I’ll check on you from time to time.  Get rubbing.  Make sure they’re good edges.  Please me.”  He smacked her ass, then squeezed it.

“Yes, Sir.”  She reached back, between her legs, and found her clit.  Seven seemed like far too many, and the bastard wouldn’t even be watching.  

The sixth and seventh were difficult.  Fuck.  Her poor clit was a red, swollen, unhappy mess.  Oh, and tender beyond belief.  Her knees were sore, her elbows too, from the hard table.  At the 30 minute mark, without a word, he’d come in and spanked each cheek ten times with his hand.  He explained that he just wanted her butt red.  Finally, the seventh was done.  Panting, she collapsed on her side, still on the hard damn table.  

Eventually he came back in.  “All done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Enjoy it?”

She really wanted to call him a bastard.  “No, Sir.  It was… a challenge.”  She gave him a dirty look; those usually didn’t get her spanked.

That made him smile.  “Good girl.”  That earned her a good kiss, which suddenly made it all seem worthwhile.  “Now go take a bath.  Make sure you are squeaky clean, and wash your hair, too.  Take your time, soak a bit.  Run a razor over your legs and pussy again, just to make sure.  We want you very presentable.  We have guests coming.”  

Oh fuck.  Her knees wanted to give out.  Fortunately crawling to the bathroom was easier than walking.  

###

She stood in front of him, naked and clean and smooth.  He explained her rules, what she was supposed to do for the evening, what she was not allowed to do.  Her legs turned completely to jello, and her knees wanted to give out again, but her pussy had never been so alive.  That’s what she loved about being around him—he sucked her into the moment, pulled her away from her anxieties, her worries, her fears.  There was no future to worry about, only the now. 

He asked, “Pet, do you have any questions?”

This was her chance to ask for the rules to be changed, or to back out if it was too much.  She also had safe words. Esoteric meant that she needed a break, needed to compose herself, needs things to slow down.  Vacillate meant things needed to stop, right then and there.  She’d never used either, had always felt safe, but he only wanted her willing submission.  That’s what he truly enjoyed, the gift of her.

This was a big step, but she knew she wasn’t going to say no.  Not only might it disappoint him, but she wanted it, wanted to see how wicked it would get.  “No, Sir.  I’m yours, Sir.”  

Another good kiss.  She liked how much he kissed her.  “Okay, go put your nose in the corner until our first guest arrives.”  She knew then that there would be guests, as in more than one.  Fuck.  She didn’t know who or how many.  And she didn’t know what would happen after they arrived…

She went to the corner, where the big glass doors met the drywall, and put her nose in the corner.  Like a good girl, she spread her cheeks, showing him what he owned.  Again, she waited, the tension mounting and mounting, the six days without an orgasm and the now fifty edges driving her mad.  Three months ago, she hadn’t even known—

The doorbell rang.  Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.  Showtime.  And she was the show.  

He said, “Pet, you may come out of the corner.  Get the door.  I expect you to please me.”

On quaking legs, she walked past him, down the long hallway to the door.  It felt weird not to be crawling, but he’d specifically told her to walk.  She put her hand on the door handle and took a big breath.  She was not allowed to look out the peephole.  She tried to breathe calmly, told her pussy to calm the hell down, and then, naked and collared for the world to see, she opened the door.

These two she knew.  She wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.  Phil and Jill, friends of his that they’d had dinner with twice.  Jill said, “Oh my God, look at you.”  Phil whistled.  She felt herself blush and blush hard.  She stepped aside, allowing room for them to enter.  Phil was a stout black guy, handsome and strong but maybe getting a little soft around the edges.  Jill was older than he was, but her body was tight as hell, especially considering her age.  Sarah thought she was probably forty or forty-two, and wondered how often she worked out.  Jill was wearing a black, pin-striped skirt and a white blouse that showed off her cleavage.  

When they were inside, Sarah shut the door.  As if opening the door stark naked wasn’t enough, the really embarrassing stuff began.  “I’m to take off your shoes, if I may.”  Cole didn’t like anyone wearing shoes inside his home.  Both of them gave her a funny look, but then he shrugged.  “Sure.”  She knelt down, and started to untie his black dress shoes.  

Jill asked, “What are the rules?  Can we touch you?”  

Working on his second shoe, she answered, “Yes, anywhere except my pussy and my ass…you know…my asshole.”  

He said, “Awesome,” as he ran his hand through her hair.  

Jill’s shoes were a lot easier; tall, black pumps, and they were off in a flash.  She stood up.  Jill’s hand reached out and covered Sarah’s breast.  Fuck.  Phil’s fingertips played with the other one.  Sarah stood there, her eyes closed, her body humming.  This was being owned, this was being shown off.  Worse, Jill’s were big C’s.  Sarah knew this because Jill had told her—they weren’t real.  

Their hands still playing with her breasts, Jill asked, “Do you like this?  He says humiliation turns you on more than anything.  Is that true?  How wet are you?”

She mumbled, “I like it.”  That made it twice as bad.  Twice as good.  And she knew what she had to do when Cole asked her how wet she was.  She assumed the same rule applied now.  She slid a finger into her pussy as they watched, their hands still on her hard nipples, then pulled it out and showed it to them.  “I’m very wet.  As wet as I’ve ever been.”  Her voice shook as she said it.  Then she licked her finger clean.  

The look of utter disbelief on Phil’s face somehow made her proud.  Then Jill stepped close, her hand squeezing Sarah’s ass, and kissed her deep, her tongue diving in.  After she was done, Jill smiled.  “Is that allowed?”  

“Women are allowed to kiss me, yes.”

Jill said, “I like how you taste.”  That sent a shiver up Sarah’s spine.

She said, “This way.”  She showed them to the living room.  The two big, comfortable chairs had been moved close to the couch, so there was seating for five or six, all facing the center of the room.  Sarah doubted she’d get to sit on any of them.  After they sat down in the chairs, she asked them what they’d like to drink.  She went to the kitchen to fetch those drinks.

While she was in the kitchen, Cole came back, still in jeans but now with a dress shirt and a sport jacket on.  She hadn’t seen him dressed up before; he looked handsome.  He said hello to the couple.  Jill said, “This is going to be fun.  Is there anything she won’t do?”

Cole only laughed in response.  

She came back with the drinks, presenting their glasses of wine formally to both of them, a little white towel draped over her left arm.  They both said thank you.  Sarah said, “Please let me know anytime you need anything.  I am here to serve you.  We’ll have appetizers when everyone arrives.”  

Without being asked, she took Cole’s glass to the kitchen and refilled it with cold water from the fridge, then added fresh lemon to it.  She brought it back, and he rewarded her with a long drink of it, him holding the glass.  

The doorbell rang.  Sarah said, “Please excuse me.”  She was crazy nervous all over again as she walked to the door.  Again, like a good girl, she didn’t look through the peephole.  What if it’s Joe?  Or the pizza guy got the wrong door?  I guess they’ll see me naked.  She opened the door.

It was the blonde.  Oh fuck.  

Sarah froze.  Cheerfully, the blonde said, “Hello.  I’m here for the party.  I see I got the right place.”  Her smile was wicked and hot. Part of Sarah hated the blonde, hated her for being so perfect, so confident.  She gave Sarah a long look up and down, and Sarah was pretty sure the blonde wanted to eat her right then and there.  The blonde reached out and touched her collar, ran her finger along the top of it, played with the price tag still hanging from it.  Again, her touch was electric.

Sarah still couldn’t talk.  She nodded, then moved out of the way so the blonde could come in.  The blonde started to walk down the hall, her shoes still on.  That wouldn’t do.  Sarah took two quick steps and put her hand on the blonde’s arm.  

The blonde jumped a little, then turned.  Sarah was pretty sure she shouldn’t have touched her without permission.  She said, “I’m sorry.  I need to take off your shoes.  Please.”

The blonde smiled bigger.  “Okay.”

Sarah kneeled down, slipped off each dark blue pump.  The blonde put a hand on the back of her head, pushed it lower.  She whispered, “Don’t you want to kiss them?”    

Yes, she did.  Didn’t know if that was allowed, but she’d been told that she should ask whenever she wasn’t sure.  In as loud a voice as she could muster, she said, “Sir?”

It took a moment, but then Cole answered, “What is it, pet?  Are you being good?”

“Sir, Miss…”. She didn’t know the blonde’s name.  

The blonde whispered, “Melody.”

“Miss Melody would like me to kiss her feet.  May I, Sir?”

Another round of humiliation, raw and hot, rippled through her.  She was asking to kiss a complete stranger’s feet, and Jill and Phil had heard her ask for it.

“Good girl for asking.  You may.  Do it well.”

As she lowered her face close to the floor, she heard the couple come into the end of the hall to watch.  Her lips brushed across the top of the blonde’s left foot.  Melody said, “Oh you can do better than that.”  She did, she kissed and licked the whole top of her foot.  Melody said, to Jill, “What a fun little slut she is.”

Jill said, “Ask her how wet she is.”

Smiling, Melody asked, “How wet are you, you little slut?”  Sarah didn’t think she could blush any harder, but she did.  She glanced at Cole at the end of the hallway, but she knew he wouldn’t save her, not without her saying one of her words.  It was always such a battle inside her, hating the humiliation and wanting it.  Sitting back on her haunches, Sarah pushed her middle finger back into her pussy, then pulled it out.  “Miss, I am very wet.”  After holding her finger up high for Melody to see, she tasted herself again, sucking her finger clean.  Melody laughed.  Then pointed to her other foot.

Sarah was a good little humiliation sub, and licked and kissed Melody’s other foot until the blonde was satisfied.  Melody even patted her on the head when she was done, and said, “Good girl.”  Sarah beamed, just like when Cole said it.

She followed them all back into the main room, and then got Melody a glass of the chardonnay.  She carried the glass back to Melody, who was sitting on the edge of the couch.   Melody touched her leg, the inside of her thigh, to be exact.  The electricity of her touch, especially there, shocked Sarah.  On the last, little step to hand Melody her wine, she tripped.  

Helplessly, she watched in slow motion as a dollop of the wine jumped out of the glass.  Not much, fortunately most stayed in the glass and she didn’t drop it, but still far too much.  The wine tumbled down and down until it landed on Melody’s knee and then the floor below.  Sarah’s heart dropped out of her ass as she noticed a few drops on Melody’s no doubt very expensive, little dark blue dress.  A few hit the couch as well.  Oh fuck fuck fuck.

Cole said, “Pet!”

Melody said, “You naughty girl.”  She said it with a smile.

In a panic, Sarah quickly tried to wipe up the wine with the suddenly very handy white towel. Cole’s now sock-covered feet appeared near Melody’s.  “Pet, get some soda water from the fridge.  Quickly.”

She half-ran to the kitchen, grabbed the little bottle of soda water out of the fridge, then grabbed a small dish towel, thinking that might help.  The whole time she was thinking, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.  Cole was not going to be happy about this.  She would be punished for it, no doubt.  But while everyone was here or later?

As she came back into the big room, she heard Cole say, “I’ll take care of the dry cleaning.”

Melody said, “Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“I insist.”

Sarah felt horrible as she kneeled down.  Her hands were shaking, so Melody took the towel and the soda from her.  Melody said, “It’s okay, it will come out.”

To Sarah, Cole said, “It is not okay.  Go and get your paddle.”

Her stomach tried to pop out of her ass yet again.  She nodded, “Yes, Sir,” and crawled back to his bedroom and his closet.  She kept replaying the wine spill in her head, trying to change history.  One little slip.

When she crawled back into the room, wood paddle in her mouth, all four sets of eyes found her.  She didn’t dare make eye contact, just kept her eyes down and crawled to Cole, now sitting on the couch.  She kneeled next to him.  Normally there was corner time before a spanking.  Would he do that today?  She liked the thought of them all watching her in the corner, but didn’t like the thought of being spanked.  

Cole took the paddle out of her mouth.  “Pet, do you need to be punished?’

“Yes, Sir, I do.  I’ve been bad and displeased you.”  She hated—fucking hated—saying those words.  Hated them being true. 

“Yes, you have been bad.  Over my lap.”

She crawled up onto the couch, then lowered herself onto his lap.  He was hard, which she liked, but her mind barely registered it.  He adjusted her body, getting her ass nice and high.  She arched up, hoping to please him.  

“Ask for your spanking, pet.”

Another ripple of humiliation flowed through her, but she liked this one less.  “Please spank me, Sir.”  God, it was embarrassing to have to say that to Cole, but with three people watching…

Whap, whap, whap…

He paddled her bottom, slow and steady as he always did, twenty-five on each cheek.  By the end, there were tears in her eyes.  When he was done, he squeezed each cheek, then patted her back.  “Good girl.  You may get up.”  

Get up meant climbing off the couch and kneeling in front of him.  He put the paddle back in her mouth.  She was hoping he’d tell her to take the paddle back to his closet, then get her nose in the corner.  She needed corner time after a spanking.  Weird as it was, she loved her corner time.  She was at peace there.

He said, “Now take the paddle to Melody.  You messed up her dress, after all.”

Dumbfounded, Sarah looked at him.  She looked at Melody, who looked as surprised as she was, but as she watched, the look on Melody’s face changed from surprise to eagerness.  Fuck.  She looked back at him.  Yes, she could use one of her words.  She could ask for him to spank her again later.  Beg him.  Would he be displeased with that?  She looked at Melody again, looked at her legs, the bare skin she’d be laying across.  

She crawled to Melody.  Melody took the paddle out of her mouth like she couldn’t wait to get started.  Sarah said, “I’m sorry for spilling on your dress.  Please spank me for it, Ma’am.”

A big, wicked smile all over her beautiful face, Melody patted her lap.  “This is going to be fun.  Come here, you naughty little slut.”  Melody even pulled her skirt up, exposing more thigh.  Sarah’s pussy liked that.

Sarah crawled across her bare lap.  Oh, the feel of her skin was lovely, so soft, so different from Cole’s.  She might almost like this.

Cole said, “Make sure she arches up.  She’s not to shift about; she’s to present herself properly for her spanking.”

Melody’s hand caressed her cheek.  It was sore.  It felt so good, and still as wicked as touching an electric fence.  

“Please, Miss Melody, please spank me.”

Whap, whap, whap…

The first few were light, only hurting because her cheeks were sore, but slowly Melody got the hang of it.  Melody was enjoying spanking her.

Whap, whap, whap…   

Just like Cole, she got twenty-five on each cheek.  Yes, it hurt.  Yes, she deserved it.  Sarah moved a lot on her lap, telling herself it was to make sure she was presenting herself properly, but really it was the feel of Melody’s thighs against her skin.  

When she was done, she kneeled again at Melody’s feet.  “Ma’am, thank you for spanking me.”  

Melody said, “You’re welcome.  You better be good, because I enjoyed that.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Melody put the paddle back in her mouth.  She asked, “Are you still wet?”

Sarah spread her thighs wider, then slid a finger in, all the way.  She was so damn hot and wet.  She needed to come.

Jill said, “I bet she’s super wet.”

Sarah held up her finger up for them all to see that Jill was right.  Melody kindly held the paddle for her so she could lick her finger good and clean.  

Then she did hear the words she’d been hoping for.  Cole said, “Pet, take the paddle back, then get your nose in the corner, on your hands and knees.”  

After returning the paddle, she crawled to her favorite spot, Cole’s corner.  After a spanking, the corner meant she’d paid the price, that she was a good girl again, that all would be forgotten when she was released.  She put her nose in the corner, knowing her red ass was on full display.

Cole said, “Spread your knees more.”

She did, now knowing her wet, smooth pussy was also on display.

“Good girl.  Fifteen minutes.”

###

After her time in the corner, it was time for hors d’oeuvres.  Out on the big balcony, of course.  It was a nice, warm spring day, but it wasn’t that warm.  The balconies on each side could obviously see her, naked and red-butted, serving four completely clothed people, but no one was outside on either.  However there was another building across the street, the twin of this one, just as tall.  How many people over there were watching?  And what did she hope the answer was? 

The good news was she didn’t spill anything, even though hands randomly touched her.  Melody squeezed her sore bottom every chance she got, and was the only one to feed her.  

Then it was time for more humiliation.

Back in the main room (no, the curtains did not close), the coffee table had been moved out of the way.  Melody and Cole sat on the couch, one at each end.  Phil and Jill sat in the two chairs to the left.  

Cole pointed to the middle of the lush area rug in front of the couch.  “Pet, stand there.”  She did, suddenly once more aware of her nakedness.  At least on the balcony, with that view, she wasn’t the only thing being look at.  Now she was the center of attention again.  Cole said, “Tell us about your collar.  Where did we get it?”

“At Petsmart, Sir.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Sir.  Very much.”

“And who owns your clit, pet?”

“You do, Sir.  You control when I come and when I touch it.”  Again, it was one thing to say it to him, another thing entirely for others to hear it.  

“Rub it for us as you tell the Petsmart story.”

Oh fuck.  Triple fuck.  Infinite fuck.

Slowly, like it had a mind of its own and wanted to, her hand slipped down her body.  She spread her legs just a little, closed her eyes, and let her finger find her clit like it had so, so many times.  But none like this.  It reminded her of the first time she’d played with herself as he watched, first on Skype, then right here, on this very rug.

“Pet, when did we go to Petsmart?”

“On a Saturday afternoon, about a month ago.”  Her clit felt very good.  Needy.

Jill asked, “Isn’t it crowded then?”

Melody said, “I think that was the point.”

Sarah nodded.  “It was…it was very crowded.”

Cole asked, “And what were you wearing?”

“I…I was wearing jeans and a white tee.”

“Anything else?”

“No.  No underwear, no bra, and no shoes.”

Phil asked, “Why no shoes?”

“Because Cole wanted it that way.”

Cole said, “It reminded her, every step, that she was owned.”

“It did…remind me of that.”

Melody asked, “Were your nipples hard?”

Sarah felt herself blush hard again, for the one-thousandth time that afternoon.  “They were.  Very.  Everyone could see them.  It was an old t-shirt.”

Jill asked, “Did you like that?”

She opened her eyes, to look at Jill.  Was reminded they were all wearing clothes.  She was the only one naked.  The only one collared.  The only one rubbing her clit.  She was the center of it all, a place she didn’t normally like to be, embarrassed and wanting to run and loving it, all at the same time.  “It was very humiliating.  And yes, I liked it.  A lot.”

That made Jill smile.  Saying that, admitting it, and reminding herself that she was naked and they weren’t, all pushed her very close to the edge.  “Sir, please.  I’m close.”

“You’re close to what?”  She could her the smile in Cole’s voice.

“Close to coming.”  Danger, danger, danger.

“Stop.”  Fuck.  She pulled her fingers away, bending her knees as she did, hating it.  She moaned.  Without being told, she sucked on her fingers as she breathed hard.  She wanted to give him her best dirty look, her fuck-you, you-fucker, you-bastard, I-hate-you look, but she didn’t.  

Melody, her voice pitched high, said, “Damn, that’s wicked.  How long has it been since she’s come?”

Cole asked, “Pet?”

Her finger clean, she said, “Six days, Ma’am.”

“And how many edges?”

“Fifty-one now, Sir.”

Melody said, “That would kill me.”

Jill said, “Me too.”

Cole asked, “Do you like being edged?”

Sarah looked at him.  Knew she was supposed to be honest.  “Not really, Sir.”

Cole chuckled, and everyone else laughed with him.  Sarah even smiled.

“Then why do you do it?  Why do you put up with it?”

That answer was easy.  “Because it pleases you, Sir.  And I do like my touching being controlled.  Being owned.  But I would like to come more often.”

Cole chuckled again.  “Of course you would.  But aren’t your orgasms more intense after a few edges.”

She nodded, “Yes, Sir.  Very intense.”  But I would still really like to come more.

“I think you’ve calmed down.  Rub again.”

Her well-trained finger went back to her clit.  She rubbed.

“Tell us the rest of the story.”

She licked her lips.  “So, holding hands, me barefoot, he led me to the aisle with all the collars and leashes and stuff.  He hadn’t told me why we were there, but I had an idea.  Then he told me to pick out a collar.  I asked him if it was for me, and he told me of course it was.  I picked out a pink one, and started to put it on, but he stopped me.  He said, ‘Only I will put a collar on you.  Only I will take it off.’  So he took it from me, and put it around my neck.”

Jill asked, “Was there anyone around?  Anyone watching?”

Sarah was getting close again.  She tried to slow it down, but telling the story, and rubbing her clit naked in front of them, was turning her on too much.  “Yes, there was a tall guy at the end of the aisle, and an older couple walked down the aisle while he was putting it on.” 

“Did they notice what was going on?”

“Oh, yes, they watched.  Please, Sir, may I please come?”

“You’re not enjoying telling such a humiliating story, are you?”

Thinking it might get her an orgasm, which she so desperately needed, she answered honestly, “Yes, Sir, it is.  A lot.”

“Good.  Stop.”

It took everything in her to pull her hand away.  But she would not be bad, not again, in front of them.  She cried out as her touch left her clit.

Cole said, “Good girl.  Finish the story.”

It took her a moment to compose herself.  Her hands were on her knees, her body hunched over and shaking.  It had been so close.  She realized she’d do anything for him, and anything for an orgasm.

“He didn’t like the pink one.  I put that back, and picked out another one.  We tried a few—“

“Pet, stand up straight.  Posture.”

Slowly, she stood up straight.  Looked at them all.  Took a deep breath.  He said, “Play with your left nipple.”

Her nipples were painfully hard.  She used her right hand to play with it, push it around.  It felt good, but she wanted to rub her clit again.  Fuck that, she wanted to come.

“We tried a few on, and he liked this one the best.”

Jill asked, “Was everyone still watching?”

“Yes, an old, weird guy was watching like it was the best show ever.  And another couple was watching, too.  It felt like the whole store was.  Another woman came into the aisle, figured out what was going on, then left, like it was the worst thing ever.”  Weirdly, she’d liked that.

“Pet, lay on the floor.”

Sarah sat on the floor, waiting for him to say more.  His eyes, handsome as ever, seeing through her like they always did, found hers.  “Lay back.  Spread your legs.  Show us your pussy.  The pussy that I own.”

Without looking away, she laid back, thankful the rug was so soft and lush.  He motioned with his fingers, and she slowly spread her legs.  Oh fuck.  Cole’s bare foot touched her ankle.  He motioned for Melody to do the same, and they spread her even wider, as wide as she could go.  All four were now staring at her shaved pussy.  Even the touch of Melody’s ankle felt wonderful.    

“Rub again.”

She was so turned on she could barely breathe.  Her finger found her wet clit, and she rubbed, very slowly, because she was still close.

Cole asked, “What happened after we picked your collar out?”

“You left it on me, then told me to get the matching leash.  You clipped it on me and led me to  the front of the store.”

Melody couldn’t believe it.  “You left it on her?  Put a leash on her?”

Cole smiled.  “Of course.”

Sarah said, “At the check out counter, a girl my age checked us out.  We were third in line, and it took forever, of course.  The girl kept looking at us, looking at the collar, looking at the leash in Cole’s hand.  I could tell she wanted to ask me a million questions.  Then, when it was our turn, I had to bend over, to run the price tag over the scanner.  The girl took the price tag and rang it up, while everyone watched.  The whole store seemed to be watching.”  She could still see the look on the check-out girl’s face.  “Oh God, Sir, I’m so close.  May I please come?  Please, please, please.”

“Yes, pet.  Come hard.  Come now.  Please me.”

She was surprised to be given permission.  She looked at him, thinking he might change his mind.  She looked at all of them, then, Melody and Jill and Phil and Cole, all watching her rub her clit.  Her long-awaited orgasm hit, stormed through her like a hurricane hitting the coast, from her toes to her fluttering eye-lids.  She closed her eyes, bit the side of her mouth, coming, coming and coming, like a waterfall that never ends.  It was her hardest orgasm ever, harder than her first, harder than the first time on Kate’s tongue.  It was too much.  She passed out.

###

She came to on the rug, on her side, her hand still buried between her thighs.  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t seem like much.  Her toes were touching Cole’s ankle and bottom of his jeans.  She looked at him, then at Melody.  She blushed.  Of course Cole wasn’t done.

He helped her sit up, then handed her his glass of water.  She drank hungrily from it.  She crossed one knee in front of her, hugging it, trying to cover her private bits without him really noticing.  She could not look at Melody, nor Jill or Phil, but she could look up at Cole.  He smiled at her, his warm, kind smile.  “Did you enjoy coming?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.  I came very hard.  Thank you.”

"Good girl.”  

Her mind was racing, wondering what was going to happen next.  The orgasm had stripped much of her need, and now what she’d done seemed much more real.  

With his encouragement, she took another big drink.  “Sir, should I get you more water?”

“No, I’ll get it.”  He stood up and walked to the kitchen.  She sat there, staring at the carpet, embarrassed.  

Melody stood up, moved next to her.  She said, “I can tell what you’re thinking.  Stop that.  That was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.  One of the hottest, too.”  Melody’s hand ran through Sarah’s hair, then pulled her head back.  Melody’s lips pressed against Sarah’s, and part of Sarah wanted to resist, but Melody’s touch was too much.  Sarah opened her lips, licked Melody’s tongue, and felt her body respond to Melody.  

She finally dared to look over at Phil and Jill.  Jill smiled at her, her hand resting on Phil’s big bulge in his pants.  Then Jill stood up, came over and kissed her.  It wasn’t as electric as Melody’s but it was still wicked to kiss a clothed woman as she sat naked on the floor with everyone watching.  Jill’s fingertips slipped down, played with her nipples.  “You’re nips are still hard enough to cut glass.”  Another kiss from Melody, as Jill kept playing with her nipples.  That she could get used to, two women touching her, kissing her.

Cole came back from the kitchen, gave her another drink.  He said, “Perhaps next time we’ll let the three of you put on a show, but for this time, it’s my pet’s show.”  Both of the women looked sheepish as they went back to their seats, but Cole could have that affect on anyone.

“Pet, am I ever satisfied with one orgasm?”

“No, Sir.”  

“What’s the most I’ve had you come in a day?”

“Fourteen, Sir.”  It had been a difficult day.  By the end, she hadn’t even wanted to touch her clit anymore, and that’s when he decided to use his tongue for the very first time.  That thought, remembering being tied wide and licked, relit the fire in her pussy.  

“Yes, that was a lot of fun.”  He smiled as he said it.  “Now lay back and spread your legs.  We know you have quite a few still in you.  And I think Phil wants to see you finger-bang your sweet, tight pussy.  Come on, pet, please me.”  God, he’s not going to make me come fourteen times, is he?  Or more?

It was a surprise to Phil, but he said, “Fuck yes, I want to see that.”

Her clit was still zinging and zanging, still so alive.  Slowly, because she didn’t know how not to do anything Cole told her to do, she rolled back onto her back.  She had to close her eyes to spread her legs.  She felt the wonderful skin of Melody’s ankle again, and Cole’s, as they spread her wide, as wide as the first time.  

She knew what Cole wanted.  She’d done it for him so many times as he watched, sitting on the same damn couch.  She used her left hand to spread her pussy lips, then pushed the first two fingers of her right hand in deep.  She was wet as rain, dripping wet, and it felt good.  So good.  She pushed her fingers in and out, faster and faster.  Was it another edge?  Or would he let her come again?  That was always the crux of it; would he or wouldn’t he?  It always surprised her.  And the not knowing did something to her, showed her that she was in fact owned. 

She fucked herself.  She fucked herself as four people watched, sipping their drinks, all fully clothed, all making little comments to each other.  She was naked, her legs spread almost painfully wide.  She dared a peek, and they were all staring at her, staring at her pussy and her fingers pumping in and out.  It was like they could see into her and there was nowhere to hide.  They knew she liked it.  Somehow that compounded the humiliation, doubled or tripled it. The idea of it pushed her right to the edge just as much as her fingers did. 

“Sir, please, may I come?”

He didn’t say anything.  She dared opening her eyes, to look at him.  He was smiling, looking at her eyes, not her pussy.  Slowly he reached down, took her ankle in his hand.  He motioned for Melody to do the same.  She did.  “You may come, pet.  You will come hard.  But you will not stop fingering your naughty pussy.  I want two this time.  Two good ones.  Please me.”

She loved being told to come.  Being ordered to.  Being ordered to do all of this wicked shit.  Even as part of her mind thought about how wrong it was, she started to come.  She stared at him, her mouth wide open, her fingers pumping in and out, her legs held wide.  Melody’s touch was still zip zip zipping through her body, from her ankle directly up her leg to her clit, and then up her spine and into her neck.  Fuck.  She came, crying out, and had to close her eyes.  She came and came and came. 

It was far too much.  She tried to pull away, to close her legs.  She looked at Cole, desperate to stop.  Opening her mouth, she tried to speak, but nothing came out, there were no words inside her, only a rippling, ripping, rumbling orgasm.

“Keep pumping.  Don’t you dare stop.  Please me.”

At her very core, she thought, I am his.  I will please him.  She wanted nothing else.  Though every nerve in her body was on fire, begging her to stop, telling her it was too much, she kept pumping and pumping.  She thrashed around, as much as she could with the two holding her legs, her sore bottom bouncing off the carpet.  

“Come now, pet.  Please me.  Come hard.  Or I’ll let Melody spank you again.”

That should not have done anything for her.  It should have turned her off.  She didn’t like being spanked.  But the thought of her skin against Melody’s thighs, that thought she loved.  She was a good girl, a good pet, a good little slut; she came hard, still thrashing.  It was not an easy orgasm, not as hard as the first, different because of the fingers, but it still roared through her, like hitting the water from the high dive.

Finally, her ankles were released.  “Good girl, my pet.  You may stop.  Clean those fingers off.”

Laying on her side, her body exhausted, her lungs pumping like a blacksmith’s bellows, she cleaned off her wet, sticky fingers as his words sunk in.  He was pleased.  That made her glow.  

###

Once again she was in the corner, this time on her knees, her wrists crossed behind her back.  She heard Cole walk the guests out, saying good night.  He left her there a little while, maybe five or six minutes.  She waited.  She knew she’d pleased him, knew that she’d performed well.  She tried to push down the doubts inside her, the confusion of why she liked the humiliation.  Without the mad, pulsing need filling her, guilt was there, ready to swallow her whole.  Only a horrible person would like such things.  Get off on them.  It was—

Cole’s hand touched her hip.  Ran up her back.  He kissed her shoulder.  “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“Yes, Sir, I did.  Did I please you?”

“Yes, pet, you did.  Very much.”  Those words made her beam, like her whole body was full of sunlight.  Her hand reached back, found his hard cock in his jeans.  She wanted to please him in a different way, then.  

“There will be time enough for that later.  First, though, I have a reward for you.”  He turned her shoulder, so she could see the room.

Melody was still sitting on the couch, quiet as a mouse.  She slid her dress up, higher and higher, until Sarah could see a hint of what was underneath.

“Your reward is Melody’s pussy, to lick and worship, until she’s satisfied.  But you’ve been through a lot tonight, you may save your reward until later, if you wish.  This choice, for once, is yours.”

Sarah looked at him, then back at Melody.  Honestly, she’d rather not have choices.  But she also knew what would please him.  Wanted him to watch.  She said, “I want to lick her, Sir.  I want you to watch.”

“Good girl.  Crawl to her.”  Happily, she did.