Collage Girls. Taken free porn video

I was strapped down. Tightly. My legs secured at the ankles, legs spread wide and pulled up, and bent at the knees. My arms likewise, a collar around my neck, secured. A leather strap across my waist. I couldn’t move. Next to me Kayleigh screamed, then silence. I couldn’t see her. The others girls were with me, and although I couldn’t see them I knew they were tied down, as I was. And like me I knew they were naked. He stood in front of me, whoever “He” was. He smiled, a cruel leer. He held up a pair of strange looking pliers. I wet myself, I couldn’t help it, I just did it. Fear. I trembled. I felt the pliers on my nipple, it hurt, he squeezed hard, then pulled sharply. I felt the pain then. A searing pain. My nipple throbbed, then the other, he repeated whatever he had done to the other. I trembled. Fear. Someone, not him, her, pinched my nose. I opened my mouth to breath. The pliers gripped my tongue, pulled it hard from mouth, then the pain, pressure, then pain again, followed by more pressure. He let go, my tongue felt swollen, my mouth full. I didn’t understand what, or why this was happening to me, or my friends. Something touched me, between my legs, touched me there, my private place. I felt myself being parted, the pliers again? Then the pain, unbelievable pain. I screamed then, screamed like my friends had………………..

“Hands up, who would like to accompany me on a week long trip to Morocco. There are limited spaces,” Miss Newman asked.
We all put our hands up, all twenty of us. The whole class. All anxious to be with, and impress the lovely Miss Newman. We’d all do anything to be with her, or to help her. We had all fallen under her spell when she’d arrived at the school. She wasn’t like any of the other teachers. She was nearer our age, almost like a big sister. She had been at the school for a term, yet it seemed longer. Her class of “my special girls” as she called us, had outdone the other classes, our exam results all B’s and more likely A’s. All for her. We didn’t want to let her down, not our Miss Newman.
So it was the beginning of April, that we flew to Casablanca. There were six of us. Selected by her. Six lucky girls. We were the lucky ones, weren’t we?………………..

I must have slept. I woke. I was still strapped to a bed, no a table. My nipples throbbed, as it did down there. Painful, but bearable. My tongue felt weird, sore and swollen, it filled my mouth. My nose too, but I couldn’t understand why. I heard muffled crying. I tried to speak, tried to form words, but my tongue wouldn’t. I needed a drink, I was desperate for water……………….

“Oh Miss Newman,” I said. “This is beautiful.”
“Louise, call me Louise, after all, we are not in school anymore.”
“Miss…..Louise, is this really where we are staying for the week?” I asked.
“Yes, really. It belongs to a friend of mine.”
The villa overlooked the sea, the sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. The sea below was azure, the sands white. This was a proper foreign holiday, not Spain. Foreign. Morocco. Africa.
“Time to change into our bikini’s girls, soak up some of this lovely sun, I’ve brought us all new ones, all the same, so we match,” she said. Her smile was like this place beautiful, enchanting. We were all enchanted, by her, by this place.
I shared a room with Kayleigh, we stripped off, and tried on our new present from Miss Newman, - Louise. We looked at each other. Giggled.
“My Dad would hit the room if he saw me wearing this,” she said.
“Mine too, shit Kay, this hardly covers my tits, or my fanny,” I said, “and as for my arse, shit it’s a thong, if that.”
“I know, do you think the others will wear theirs?” Kayleigh asked. “Will she, do you think, Miss….Louise, do you think hers is the same?”
“Only one way to find out.”
We walked back to the pool. We were the first. Miss… Louise was there, wearing an identical bikini to ours, but unlike us she didn’t wear a top, but was topless. Her breasts were like her, perfect, and tanned. Her nipples a deep red, and pierced. I looked, stared. Each nipple had a gold ring though it……………..

Pierced nipples, of course I thought. They’ve pierced my nipples. But why? I couldn’t see them, couldn’t feel them, but I knew that was what “He” had done to me. Pierced my nipples. I moved my tongue. I touched my teeth with it. It dawned on me, my nipples had been pierced, as had my tongue. It didn’t make any sense. Then again, why were we all stripped naked, and strapped down in some sort of cellar. I didn’t understand. I heard footsteps, and my skin went cold, I shivered. What else were they going to do to me, to us. The steps gradually got closer, I tried to look, to see. Then I saw her. It was her, the woman who came to the house, she had been with him. The owner. The friend of Louise, the man that owned the house, the beautiful house beside the sea…………………

“Has everyone sent a text to their parents, to say we are all safe, and having a great time?” Louise called.
We all had, of course we had. We always did what she asked, no question. We were all topless in the sun, like her, because she had asked us to be.
“After all, we’re all girls together,” she had said.
We topped up our tans, listened to music on our I-phones, swam in the pool. It was our second day, the second day of our exotic holiday. The best holiday ever. Ever.

“Girls,” she called, in that honey voice. We were all instantly alert.
“Girls, this is my friend, the owner of this wonderful house.”
Instantly my hands went to my tits, covering them. I noticed she was still topless, and totally at ease, as her friend walked beside her. He was tall, taller than her, but old. He must have been as old as my Dad, probably older. He had his arm around her waist, as she gazed up at his face, so he kissed her, full on the lips. I was jealous of him.
“Come over girls, and meet Mo.”
We were introduced, our near nakedness forgotten. Six teenagers, topless in the sun. Mo, his teeth white against his dark Arab skin.
“This is Charlotte,” she said introducing me. He smiled at me, but his eyes soon dropped to my exposed chest.
Louise moved on, Kayleigh, Megan, Vicky, Cathy, and of course Zoë. He looked us all over, he was creepy, like a dirty relative. I heard footsteps, and looked beyond him. It was a woman, she carried a silver tray, with eight glasses, each glass filled with a yellow cocktail. I couldn’t believe my eyes, she was totally naked, her skin tanned, she wore high heeled sandals, with long leather thongs which were tied about her legs. She walked, head up, her eye make up like an Egyptian Queen. She had a gold looking collar around her neck, very wide, so she couldn’t look down, even if she had wanted to. She had a thick ring through each nipple, much bigger than those that Louise had. Then I saw it, she had another ring hanging from her clit. We each took a drink, non alcoholic for us girls, we drank them down, they were refreshing, thirst quenching. I felt giddy, the sun? I sat down, and woke up in hell…………………..

She gave us water, poured it onto our faces, I opened my mouth, trying to get as much of the warm liquid as I could. She said nothing. She was still naked, her collar around her neck. I couldn’t see how it fastened, or unfastened. Her makeup was, as it had been when I first saw her. She had sad eyes, and I felt strangely sorry for her. Then two massive black men arrived, heads shaved, bare chested. They moved us. One by one, we were lifted, wrists fitted with metal cuffs, with chains between them, then hung from hooks set in the ceiling, my feet just touched the floor. I looked at my friends, hanging near me. They were frightened, just as I was. Vicky was closest, I saw she had pierced nipples, blood on her breast. She had been crying, her nose had a ring through it. The septum? I looked further, a gold ring between the V of her thighs, a clit ring? She opened her mouth, and screamed, “let me go, you fucking bastards, let me go!” I saw then she had two studs in her tongue. It was then I realised we all had. Had piercings like that woman, the naked one. The one with the gold collar.
They came to me first, one held a gold collar in his massive hands. My collar. The other lit a blow lamp, the sort my Dad used when he was fixing his old car in the garage. They welded the collar about my neck. I smelt my skin burn, in spite of the asbestos shield they placed between it, and my neck. I must have fainted. I came to when a bucket of water was thrown over me. They moved on to Zoë, who screamed, and screamed…………..

We were moved. The two black men took us. A chain was attached to the ring at the front of our collars, and we were led, naked. I worried for Louise, where was she? Had she been hurt when they d**gged us, k**napped us? I was desperate for her. They took us to a room, a room with high windows, a room, a strange room, a room with strange looking furniture, some like a gym, six doctors chairs. The sort with the stirrups. The woman with the sad eyes was there, she fed us, some sort of rice. We ate it hungrily. She whisperer to each of us. I didn’t know what she said to the others.
“Eat quickly, you must eat to keep your strength for what you must do in the coming days.” She said.
“What…” I began.
“No time, I’ll explain when I can.”
I looked at my friends. Zoë’s neck was red raw, blistered from where her collar had been welded together, where, unlike the rest of us, the asbestos shield had slipped. We all had them, all had nose rings, nipple rings, clit rings, and as I ate, so my tongue piercings made their presence felt. Two studs. We all had. But why……………..

It was raining.
“April in England, when spring is here!” I thought.
“Don’t you wish we were with our Lotte,” I said.
“And then some, lucky her!” Steph said.
“All that sun, better than this bloody never ending rain,” I said, looking our of the window.
“She must be enjoying herself, not had a text from her since that first one, nothing on Facebook either, not like her,” Steph said.
“Morocco, probably rubbish connection, its third world after all. Anyway she’s with her mates.”………………………

“Quiet class!” Miss Newman called.
We were all instantly silent. She stood at the front of the class. Our Miss Newman. Lovely Louise. Except she wasn’t our Miss Newman, or the lovely Louise. It was her. Beautiful, gorgeous. The woman we all worshipped in our adolescent way. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly in a pony tail. Her makeup dark, and heavy. She wore black ankle boots, heeled, and shinny. I looked closer, she had black leather knickers on, but I could see her smooth fanny, crotchless, her black bra, quarter cupped, her red pierced nipples on display. Red lipstick on her lips, red lips with a cruel smile.
“Miss, what is happening to us?” Cathy asked.
She was rewarded by a hard slap across the face from one of the black men.
“You will only speak when you are spoken to. You will do what you are told immediately. You will not think, you will obey. Failure to obey will result in punishment.” Miss Newman said. “Is that clear?”
“Yes Miss,” we answered sullenly.
“Not Miss, you will call me Mistress. Now stand in line!”
We did what she told us, we were too shocked to argue. She inspected our piercings, checked our collars. She stopped in front of Zoë, looked at her burnt neck.
“Slut,” she called, snapping her fingers.
The woman with the sad eyes, hurried forward.
“Slut, when we finish here you will take this worthless slut to the doctor, have him treat the burn.”
“Yes my Mistress.”
“Megan, you worthless slut, come here.” Mistress commanded.
Megan hesitated, and stepped forward, slowly. The whip cracked, striking her back, raising a red welt. She cried out.
“You will obey, immediately,” Mistress said. “Now on your knees.”
Megan knelt, quickly. Mistress stood in front of her, legs wide, her hands on her hips.
“Now, lick my cunt, excite my clit.”
“No fucking way, I ain’t no lezzer,” Megan said.
One of the black men moved forward instantly. The cattle prod touched Megan’s exposed bum. She screamed once, and fell sideways onto the floor, and was silent.
Mistress moved away, as Megan was hoisted up, and left hanging from a hook in the ceiling, the other black man fitted a bar to her ankles, so her legs were stretched wide.
“Slut Kayleigh, on your knees, NOW!”
Kayleigh had seen what had happened to Megan, and moved the instant her name was called.
“Now, use your tongue,” Mistress instructed.
Kayleigh knew what was required, knew what would happen if she refused. We all knew. I felt sick. I was off to the side, I saw my best friend move forward, her tongue out, the tip touched the Mistress. She licked her. Then licked her some more, as the Mistress put her hand behind Kayleigh’s head, and pulled hard against her private parts. After a minute or two, she released her.
“Fucking rubbish, I’m not even wet. You will practice. Now Cathy you big titted slut.”
They all took their turn, all rejected as being not good enough. Then it was me. I was last, and had seen my friends debase themselves. I knelt before her. One day in class, I had fantasised about doing this, I had been so wet that day, I had almost cum there in class. I had later, as I lay in bed, fingers busy. Now as I knelt before her, I could smell her scent. The tip of my tongue touched her, touched her clit, I felt it, hard as my tongue worked it. I ran my tongue down her labia. Then I couldn’t stop myself. I’d dreamed of this, doing this to her. I’d had a crush on her from the moment she had become our teacher, all that came rushing back to me there and then, as I knelt before her, as my friends looked on. I tasted her juices on my tongue, the musky taste of honey. Nectar. I reached up, u*********sly, cupping the cheeks of her arse, pulling her closer. Her legs moved further apart, my tongue probed, and I was rewarded with a flow of juice, I lapped it up, relishing her, relishing her gift to me. I felt her tremble, her hand behind my head, forcing my face into her, my tongue inside her.
“Well sluts, at least one of you knows what to do with her tongue.”

Megan had regained consciousness, and hung by her bound wrists from a hook, her legs spread wide.
“Ten lashes,” Mistress commanded, “but I don’t want her permanently marked, or I’ll cut your balls off myself.”
They whipped her, raising ugly red welts, but were careful not to break her skin. She cried out as each lash struck her, tears ran down her face.
She was left there, as we were fed, fruit, and water. She had none.

The doctors chairs, I’d seen them at the surgery, the ones with the stirrups. Mum had told me about them, but I’d never sat in one, never had a smear, Mum had told me, told me how important a smear test was. I sat, as did the others, legs high, legs wide. Yet again, strapped in place. Megan looking pale. The doctor came, well they said he was a doctor. He looked like a pervert. He looked at us, with hungry eyes……………

We laughed, and hurried into the shop, the lingerie shop. He had followed us in. Mum had noticed him. Mum picked me out a matching bra and knicker set. Pretty, with flowers.
“Mum, I’m not twelve!” I said, “Now this is more like it.”
They were green lace, a little risqué, sheer side panels. Grown up.
“Go and try them on, make sure the bra fits properly,” she said.
He watched me, followed me into the changing rooms, went in the cubicle opposite mine. I tried them on, the knickers over the ones I wore. They were gorgeous. I wasn’t sure about the bra.
“Mum,” I called, sticking my head around the curtain. I saw him then, trying to see through the gap between curtain and wall. He wasn’t even embarrassed that I’d caught him out.
She came, and he disappeared into his cubicle. She helped me with the bra, got another, one that really fitted. 34C. I was big, like her. Big like Kayleigh………..

I wanted my Mum. I looked to either side of me. We were all there. All blonde. All big busted. Big tits like me.
“blood checks all clear, all strong and healthy.” He walked towards me, stepped into the space between my legs. My open legs. I felt his hands, he ran them up the inside of my thighs. Not a doctor, not a real doctor. His fingers traced my fanny, opened my labia. He penetrated me, one finger, then another. A thumb on my clit, my exposed, tender, sensitive clit.
“The partial clit hood removal on this one is healing nicely,” he said to Mistress.
He withdrew his fingers, then pushed them into my bum, I clenched myself, it was no good, he pushed them in, into my anus, where even my finger hadn’t been before. I said nothing, to object, was to be punished. He smiled at me, then pulled his fingers out, it felt like I was going to shit myself. I quickly clenched.
“Clean my fingers,” he said, holding his fingers in front on my mouth.
I nearly gagged, but did what I was told, licking his fingers, sucking them, until he was satisfied. He moved on, doing the same to the others. Vicky told him to take his fingers, shove them up his own arse, then clean them himself. I heard his hand connect with her face, and she cleaned them anyway. We had no choice. Obey, until we could escape.
He injected us, three injections each, all in our bottoms.
“You’ll notice a difference in a couple of days,” the so called doctor said, “the fertility d**g takes a few days, they’ll have tender tits at first, as they get bigger, arse’s as well will plump out a bit. The hormones will have an effect by tomorrow, by tomorrow night they’ll all be like bitches on heat. The other, contraceptive, don’t want them getting pregnant do we, well not yet anyway,” he laughed. “I need a blow job, which one?”
“Just pick one, that slut has a good tongue,” Mistress said, pointing at me.
“Oh no, not me, not me!” I thought.
He took his cock out, it wasn’t hard, I watched as he rubbed it, as it got bigger, harder. I tried to resist, but it was useless. I couldn’t move, he adjusted the chair, my head now level with his crotch. His cock touched my lips.
“Open slut,” he said.
I wasn’t a slut. I wanted my Mum. My mouth opened, and his cock was in my mouth. He pushed it in, I gagged, he pushed it further.
“Use your tongue whore, like the little slut you are.”
It was over quickly, I felt his cock grow, and become hard. My tongue on its underside, the two studs on my tongue rubbing on his glands. His cock throbbed, then he groaned, he came, his come hitting the back of my throat. As he came he pushed deeper into my throat, holding it there, as his cock softened. I tried not to swallow, but the swallow reflex was too great.
“You were right, this whore is good, even swallows.”

He attached a wire to my clit ring, I felt a dildo inserted inside me, another into my anus, the others too, we could see each other. They had all watched, as I’d sucked his cock, glad it wasn’t them, knowing it would be. They fixed the dildos, so we couldn’t push them out. Then they switched them on, vibrations travelled through my body, through my fanny, which they called a cunt, or a pussy, through my bum. The tingling in my clit was building, the sensations incredible. I came then, moaning, then screaming, “oh yes, oh my fucking god, yesssssssssss, oh yesssssssssss.”
I’d made myself come before, we all had, but nothing like this, I tried to arch my back, as another orgasm swept through my body, then another, then another. Never ending. She watched, watched as we were made to come, over and over again. Miss Newman, Louise, our beautiful teacher. Our strict Mistress. I tasted her juices again, my mouth watering, I wanted her, not the taste of the doctors come. She watched me from her desk, as strapped to the chair, I came again, and again, wishing it was her making me come. I looked into her eyes, and knew, that she knew. She could see into my soul. I came again…………………..

“Come on, we’ll be late, bloody traffic bloody M25,” I said.
“Alright John, Christ give me a minute,” Steph called.
The traffic was horrendous, then it always was.
“Gatwick north, or south, buggered if I can remember,” I said, as we exited the M23.
“North,” Steph said. “Can’t wait to see her, bet she’s had a fabulous time.”
We parked the car, and headed to arrivals.
“Look, there’s Kayleigh’s Mum…….Jackie!” Steph called, and hurried over.
I checked the arrivals board, the flight from Casablanca had landed.
We waited, and waited. Still no sign of the girls. Megan’s Mum was there, so were the Mum’s of Vicky, Cathy and Zoë’s Dad. But no girls.

“No, I’m sorry sir, but no passengers of that name were on the flight,” he airline representative said.
I was numb. Tears welled up in Steph’ eyes.
“No, I’m sorry, no passengers of those names were booked on the flight.”
“Check again!”
He checked. Then checked again.
“Look Sir, these passengers flew to Casablanca a week ago, but Sir, they were single tickets, not returns.”
I heard what he said, I was numb, numb with worry………………….

She led me away from the others, took me to her bedroom, led me there by the chain attached to my collar. She didn’t need the chain, I wanted to be with her.
“Stand there slut,” she commanded.
I stood, waited, watched. Watched as she stripped off. She lay on the bed, spread her legs, beckoned me over.
“Use your tongue on me slut,” she said.
I climbed between her long legs, lowered my face to her….cunt…..tasted her, wanted her. I probed, licked, nibbled. She moaned, opened her legs wider.
“Use your fingers as well, oh fuck yes…….there, there…..don’t stop.”
She came, but was greedy for more. I wanted to give her more, my tongue in her, I lightly touched the sensitive area between cunt and anus, she groaned again,
“Mmmm, more, lick my arse……..mmmmm, nice…………”
I pleasured her, and as I did, I heard the door open behind me, I hesitated momentarily,
“No one told you to stop slut,” she groaned.
I resumed, though nervously, who was in the room with us?
I felt the bed give, then a hand on my back, another between my legs. My labia was parted. God I was wet. Something rubbed against my labia, then pressure. I felt my labia part, as I was penetrated.
“That hurts…….oh fuck yes………” I moaned, though my words were muffled, my mouth around her cunt, my face pressed hard in her wetness.
My face was bumped against her, as I tried to maintain contact with her clit, but was being fucked from behind, by someone I didn’t know.
She pulled my hair, lifted my head, looked into my eyes as I was fucked. She kept eye contact with me. My first fuck. Mum had said it should be special, maybe with someone I loved. It was special, I was with her…………………….

“Now can you give me the details of the teacher?”
“Miss Newman, Louise Newman,” Steph said.
He scribbled away.
“And the school organised the trip?”
“Well yes, I think so,” Steph replied.
“And your daughter, the same age as the others?”
“Yes sixteen, they have the last of there exams next month.”
“Look we’ll send someone to the school. I’ll get onto Interpol. Try not to worry, impossible I know.”
We drove home, narrowly avoiding at least two crashes, frantic with worry………………

I was pushed into the room, the room where we all slept, or tried to.
“Where have you been, what happened?” Cathy asked.
“I’ve just had sex with Louise,” I said, almost dreamily.
“What’s that dripping down your legs,” Megan said.
“Cum, Mo fucked me as I went down on her,” I said, hardly believing what I was saying.
Kayleigh put her arm around me, walked me to my bed.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
I nodded.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head.
“Was it awful?” She asked.
“No, no it wasn’t. Kay I loved it.” I replied……………..

The Detective spoke to us. Spoke to the twelve of us. The parents of the girls who had gone to Morocco. Gone with Miss Newman.
“We’ve spoken to Miss Newman. The real Miss Newman. She is at home in Scotland. She is on a career break.”
“But how is that possible?”
“The school carried out the normal checks, even spoke to her last school. Her identity was cloned. This has been long in the planning.” The detective said.
We were all stunned. Several of the mothers sobbed quietly.
“We have the CCTV images from Gatwick, sunglasses, a scarf. We’ve circulated the images, Interpol. Casablanca airport, nothing, CCTV wasn’t working. The girls mobiles are switched off, there last signal we have shows them in Bulgaria, but that is probably false, safe to say they don’t have them. You must prepare yourselves for a long wait”……………………….

My breasts were tender, as was my bum. They both seemed bigger. All of us were the same. The injections I remembered. I was horny, I craved sex. The injections? Maybe. I remembered her. Remembered her cunt. I could use the word. CUNT. I wanted hers, wanted her to use mine. I didn’t even mind if Mo used it, as long as she was there. Miss Newman, Louise. My Mistress.
“Slut,” she called to me.
“I stood, waiting to obey her.”
“Get in the chair,” she commanded.
I did as she said, my legs in the stirrups.
“You, you worthless slut, make her come,” she said, indicating to Megan.
Megan obeyed, I felt her tongue working its magic on me. I needed it, needed the release. My clit throbbed. It was now super sensitive, part of my clit hood had been cut away, my new clit ring positioned so the clit was raised for maximum pleasure. Pleasured it was, Megan didn’t want the cattle prod again, none us did, so she made me come, and as I did, I looked at her. At my Mistress.

Over the weeks we learnt to obey. Like the woman with the sad eyes, we learnt to be patient. Her name was Alice, Alice Coward. She was here to be punished. Why we were here we didn’t know. No one told us. She helped us, perfected our makeup. Perfected our blow jobs, learnt to satisfy a woman. We practiced on each other, always under her supervision, though I did it with Kayleigh when the lights went out. I was the only that had been fucked. And fucked more than once. Mistress used me most nights, and most nights Mo would join us, sometimes Alice would be there. If Mo came inside me, Alice would “clean” me, using her tongue. That was all about to change. It was six week since we had been taken. Six short weeks for me, six long weeks for the others. We were taken into the desert, we wore clothes for the first time. She through bra’s see through harem trousers, no knickers. Gold chain threaded our piercings. Our tits were bigger, our nipples huge compared to what they had been, our bums firmer, plumper. We were all randy, and regularly played with ourselves, or each other in many cases. Megan was always reluctant to join us. “I’m not a fucking lezzer,” she often repeated, sometimes as one of the girls lowered her pussy onto her face, and her waiting tongue. She knew how to use that tongue, only last night she had pleasured me, as I had pleasure her. Mistress watched, unknown to either of us.

They sat around a low table, drinking, eating, as we were led in. They watched us. Inspected us, as they would a horse. I felt a hand between my legs, as some old goat felt me up. His beard was grey, his hands wrinkled. I moved my legs apart, allowing him easier access.
“They are all virgins?” One asked.
Mo was there, “all but this slut,” he replied, indicating to me. “But she is willing, and has a very soft mouth. Her arse is intact,” he added.
“Good, then while I fuck her arse, she can pleasure my wife,” he said.
The others were all taken, some singly, others in two’s. I watched as Kayleigh was taken, she looked frightened, but we all knew better than to resist.

I was on my knees, arse in the air, working my magic on a beautiful girl. His wife he called her, his daughter more like, she was the same age as me, maybe younger. My tongue was busy, he was behind me, my cunt was wet, I needed to be fucked. I felt his cock being rubbed along my labia, I anticipated its penetration. He penetrated me, but not in my cunt, he forced his cock into my little puckered hole. I had been loosened by a small dildo, even so it hurt, not that his cock was very big, just bigger. I tried to relax, he was in me now, I adjusted to him, to his cock, as he stretched me. Then I felt the pleasure as he began to fuck me. I enjoyed the feeling, but remembered that I was here to be enjoyed, not to enjoy. I stuck my tongue as far into her wet cunt as I could. She squirmed with pleasure. I came, but was unsatisfied. I felt him coming, his cock stiffened, then as he rammed himself into me, then I felt it throb, and felt his cum deep inside me. She had turned, on all fours, her arse in my face, I rimmed her, probed her, fingered her. She came, then came again. Then she squirted in my face.
I was rewarded, my Mistress said I’d done well. I was so happy. I had pleased her…………….

“Its been three months John, do you think we’ll ever see her again?” Steph asked.
“Of course we will, she’ll walk in here, tanned, having had the time of her life, you just see,” I replied, though deep down I dreaded the worst.
“Liar, but thanks, hold me,” Steph said, as her tears soaked my shirt………….

The private jet flew us, we didn’t know to where, it didn’t matter. We would be fucked, used. Then we would go somewhere else, to be fucked and abused there. I had lost count of how many men I had, had. How many had fucked my cunt, my arse, cum on my face. Women too, I was a favourite with the women, my tongue always in demand. The others too, they were no different from me. We had our injections once per week, maintaining our hormone enlarged breasts, and our desperate need for sex, regular, and manic sex. If we weren’t fucked by someone, then we’d fuck each other, or find a toy. We were always encouraged to fuck, or masturbate. We obeyed, we were patient, as was Alice.

We hit what felt like a bump in the road, then the plane began to descend. The seat belt light came on. My Mistress sat just across from me, I saw her buckle up, pulling the belt tight across her perfect waist. We pulled up, but even I could tell something was wrong. We made a bumpy landing, somewhere.

We were boarded. Americans. We had landed at an American air force base. They were kind. They gave us food, gave us clothes. We were safe. Rescued. They flew us home, home to what I wondered.
“Lotte!” My Dad hugged me.
Mum cried, cried a lot. She looked at me, looked hard.
“Dad said you’d come home, tanned,” she said. “Are your breasts bigger, your bum too?”
“Yes Mum, they injected us with some sort of hormone’s” I said.
“That piercing is coming out,” she said.
I had been programmed to obey, but something in me said no.
“No Mum, my nose ring stays, as does my other piercings. They all stay. All of them.”
“All?” She asked. “Even that awful collar?”
“Yes the collar, everything. My nipple rings, my clit ring. They’re all part of me.”

My link to her, my Mistress.

The Police came, asked me questions, so many questions. I answered them, truthfully. They were interested in Alice, she had disappeared over two years ago, her and her husband. I told them what I knew. Where had we been? A villa over looking the sea near Casablanca, then………I didn’t know. Miss Newman, they asked, I told them about the wonderful teacher Louise Newman. I didn’t tell them about my beloved Mistress, she was mine, my memory. Mine.
Social Services came. Had I been ****d. ****d, no……fucked, yes. Did they….? Yes they fucked my arse, and yes I liked it, I liked being fucked, like fucking women. No not liked, loved it. The social worker shook her head.
Doctors examined me, examined us all. We’d been injected with cattle hormone, hormone to increase milk production, and increase meat yield. Another injection was to increase our libido, our sex drive.
My Mum was worried, worried that her daughter had been used as a whore. Worried that she appeared to have liked it. Worried that she missed it.

God how I missed it…………

“Look she’s suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, give her time, love and time.”
I listened to what the social worker said. It hardly sunk in.
“She walks around the house naked most of the time, says worthless sluts don’t wear clothes, and those rings.”
“The others are pretty much the same, it must have been hell for them, give them time”………….

It was three months later. I was in London. Mayfair, just down from the Saudi embassy. Near Green Park. She was alone, sitting, drinking coffee outside a Turkish restaurant, in the late morning sun. My heart pounded in my chest. She looked radiant, blonde and tanned. Her perfect white teeth, a white blouse opened necked, her long legs crossed. I saw her nipple rings pressed against her blouse. My cunt was wet with anticipation, anticipation of her touch. I walked up to her, stood beside her. Waiting, as was my place. She looked up, and smiled.
“I am here my Mistress,” I said. “This worthless slut apologises that it has taken me so long to find you Mistress.”
“For which you will be punished.”
I stood waiting, patiently as was the place of a worthless slut. My place. She finished her coffee. She was joined by a gentleman. They chatted. She had a another coffee, and a glass of mineral water. They laughed. I waited. Waited until I was required.
“Come with us,” she said, walking away. I followed her. I’d follow her anywhere. She was my Mistress, and I worshipped her.