There was a stocky redhead with a beard, a thin and rather gaunt bald-headed gentlemen who wore a handkerchief in his pocket, a smarmy young investment banker type, and, oh fuck. My tray wobbled slightly as I tried to get over the fact that one of the men was so attractive he nearly made me cream my panties then and there. This was a first for me. If there was such a thing as love/lust at first sight – I had just discovered it. The man in question had slicked back black hair, startling dark brown eyes, high, prominent cheekbones, and a day-old beard. His skin was a glorious cappuccino colour, and the overall effect had me breathless - so much so that I could barely bear to look at him. Approaching the table cautiously, I placed my tray down gently and pushed it towards the centre of the table.
Having no idea of what to do next, I placed my arms by my side and looked towards the floor. If they wanted me to do something, I was pretty sure they’d let me know.
"This one of the new ones?" The redhead raised his eyebrows and looked towards Mr. Armani Underwear Model, who did nothing more than grunt in response. His face was buried in the Telegraph, and he was the only man that seemed quite unconcerned about my presence here. All of the rest were staring at my chest, and they'd probably be staring a bit lower if the table didn't cut off their view.
"Come over here. Let me have a little touch and feel, sweetheart." The redhead had a soft Scottish burr to his tone, and his eyes had now lit up with excitement. It was nice to know I wasn't entirely unattractive.
Doing as ordered, I stood in front of the Scotsman with my head bowed appropriately. He let me stand there for a few moments, in silence, as he drank in his fill. When his arms did begin to move, my breath hitched. Please be gentle with me, I begged silently.
"Nice tits," he cooed softly, as his hands reached out to cup them. When he was satisfied he had weighed them appropriately, he then began to part the split-folds of my bra, exposing my nipples to their full advantage. Tweaking one, and then the other in his fingertips until they stood proudly to attention before him, he said, "Nice," again. It was a favourite word of his, apparently.
“Come on, Brian. We all want a go. Get a move on.” This came from my investment banker. He had a pair of Ray Bans perched on the top of his head, and his tousled light-brown hair was looking a little sticky around his face. Was he hot under the collar in here? Surely not?
Brian ignored him. He was in no rush to end his turn, and currently, his hands were exploring the soft curves of my stomach, but he had his sights set a little lower. My body hummed in expectation of his fingers, and shockingly, I couldn't wait for them to reach me.
He took his time. When his hands reached the thin waistband of my panties, he traced a gentle line backwards and forwards with the rough pad of his index finger, and it made me tremble slightly.
"She's so responsive." He smiled at me, and though I caught it with the corner of my eye, I kept my gaze trained on the floor. James had told me enough times that under no circumstances was I allowed to look directly at anyone unless they told me otherwise. Brian then dipped his fingers beneath my waistband, and I couldn't help a soft whimper.
"Looks like she's ready to blow. Are you going to be kind to her this evening, Adie?" Brian took his gaze away from me for a second, to goad Mr. Armani, but he didn't take the bait. Slowly turning over a page in his newspaper, he shook his head and waved his hand, as if telling Brian to get on with it. As attractive as Mr. Armani was, I had already decided I didn't want anything to do with him. His kind of arrogance was something I could do without. What was Adie short for, anyway? Adrian? I couldn't think of anything else.
“I think you are truly terrible. If I had a woman as glorious as this at my complete and utter disposal, I’d make her come every ten seconds.” Brian was beginning to grow on me, but every half an hour would have been better in regards to orgasms. Giving him a soft little moan when he withdrew his hand from my panties, I breathed a sigh of relief when he began to part the delicate folds of lace that covered my pubic hair.
"Oh my God. This is adorable. A tiny heart-shaped muff." His fingers then dived into the short tufts of hair I'd been left with and fluffed it around. I squirmed. I wasn't sure whether to be mortified or pleased and for the first time in a long time, I felt heat steal into my face.
“Ha ha. I think I’ve made her blush.” He traced the edges of the heart with his fingertips, before turning back to Adie. “What’s with the hair, anyway? Most of them are as bald as Henry. Are you going soft in your old age?”
Adie didn't get a chance to answer him because investment banker got there first. "It's because she's new, idiot, and hurry the hell up. I've nearly finished my pint, and I need another."
Brian, remembering he had a drink, then grabbed for his whisky glass. Swirling the ice around for a second, he then drank half the contents in one large gulp. I could almost feel the fire burning his throat and winced for him.
"Ahh, whisky's not that bad, lassie. It's an acquired taste, perhaps, but it'll warm ye up just fine on a cold winter's night." I did not doubt it, but was already quite warm enough, and had no desire to be under the influence with these bloodthirsty creatures all around me.
Pressing the cold glass against my stomach, he made me gasp.
“You do have a tongue. Adie assured me that you would be mute, but I didn’t think that would be the case.” He then pressed the ice-cold glass over my nipple, and I had to fight really hard to stopper the mewl of shock that wanted to escape.
“Aww, no fun. You were ready for that one.” Turning to Adie, who was still knee deep in his paper, he said, “What should I call her?”
Finally, the God looked up from his reading matter and frowned. “Whatever the fuck you like,” he said, in a rasping Spanish accent that threatened to have me climax then and there. Alas, I didn’t seem to affect him in the same way because he dived straight back into his paper. It irked me. I have no idea why. The man was surrounded by the most stunning women the world had to offer, and I was upset because my mediocre face didn’t do it for him? Too bad, Lois. You’re not here to have fun.
"I need a name. Anything will do. I just need a way to address her." Brian was persistent, I'd give him that.
Adie sighed. “Call her slave. Call her darling. Call her by her number, Thirty-Eight or the ridiculous name she’s been allocated, which is Black Diamond. Call her whatever the fuck you like, but please leave me alone in peace or I swear to God I will remove your testicles, which might spoil your fun somewhat, no?” With that, Adie stood up and walked away. Brian just laughed.
His fingers returned in earnest to my body, running down the insides of my thighs to my knees and then making halting steps back up towards my pussy. My body pulsed with need - a fiery unsatisfied throb that had been building all day. Teasingly, he made me wait, painting pretty doodles all over my skin with a touch almost lighter than air before he finally gave me a little of what I wanted. Two fingers slid between my legs, a light tickling touch that made my stomach contract. They grew bolder then, scissoring my clit and squeezing me a little before I was abruptly released. My eyes bounced up to Brian, and he winked at me.
“My turn is over for now, Diamond, but I’ll be seeing you again later. Now you’d better get another round of drinks for these beasts before they turn nasty. Be quick, sweetheart.” Disappointment flooded through me at the loss of contact, and I snatched the tray away hastily in a fit of pique. There was laughter all around me, and a quick slap to my backside as I ran off, which made the whole ordeal even more humiliating – and it had barely begun.
As soon as I got back to the bar, there was a queue half a mile long. Standing in line, I felt supremely conscious of my body – each rub of my bra against my painfully straining nipples sent flutters of misery through me, and each cruel rub of my panties against my swollen sex had me gasping with dismay. They couldn't leave me like this all evening, could they? I had a sinking feeling they could. The girls in front of me obviously felt the same way. There was plenty of fidg
eting going on and lots of hopping from one leg to another. James had told me there could be weeks of this. I didn't think I could get through one more day.
Following the example of the other girls, when I got to the chrome bar counter, I simply put my tray out for the barman to collect. He took note of the number, looked at his list, and immediately began gathering the required drinks. It wasn’t long before I had a pint of lager, a glass of whisky, and a bottle of vodka. Great. If these assholes got drunk, my life was going to be made hell. Oh well. Getting a move on, I nearly jogged all the way back to my table and my next encounter. All eyes were immediately on me and none of them, bar Brian, looked happy.
“Ah, finally our errant slave returns.” This was from the bald-headed gentlemen, who was currently mopping his forehead with his hankie. “Do you know how long you’ve made us wait, slave?”
Immediately sensing that my turn with this man was not going to be as pleasant as the last, I stammered, “No, Sir. But I went as quickly as…”
"Silence!" he roared. "I don't want to hear your excuses. I want you to get down on the floor, on your knees, slave." With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I came around to his side of the table and did as he asked. "Forehead pressed to the floor, hands on head," he barked. Uh oh. I had a feeling this was not going to be a good day for my poor backside. He then left me there, while he drank his drink and chatted with his friends. For five minutes or so, they completely ignored me. Cool air whispered over my body as people walked by, and the cold tiles of the floor became very hard and uncomfortable beneath me, but I daren't move or utter a sound. I was already trying my best not to contemplate my fate, but I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant. When the bald guy finally acknowledged me again, my forehead was frozen to the touch.
“Do you know what we do with disobedient slaves?” I didn’t dare answer him, so I remained perfectly still. “We teach them a lesson. Are you ready for your lesson, slave?” No. I nodded my head. “Good.”
The crack of a crop came down sharply across my right buttock, and I wanted to scream. I knew, without looking, that my skin was already black and blue, and that sitting down was not likely to be possible for a couple of days at the very least.
“What a naughty girl you’ve been, slave. Look at all the marks on your ass. You should feel ashamed of yourself.” I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. The crop travelled up my back, and for a moment, I worried that he would whip me there, but then it drew back to land sharply on my other ass cheek. Another two on each followed, and I made a soft keening sound through my nose.
“Go easy on her, Henry. It’s her first day.” Brian’s words were soft and meant to be placating, but Henry was not appeased.
“You never go easy on them, Brian. If they don’t respect you, they won’t serve you to the best of their ability. It’s important that they understand who their lord and master is, and what the consequences are for failure. Instil the fear of God into a slave on day one, and your work will be easy. Mess around, and they’ll never respect you.”
“You’re wrong, Henry, but as usual, there’s no point talking to you.” Brian sighed, but he said nothing further.
“Go crawl to the cupboard at the far end of the room and get me some lube. You’d better be back here in one minute flat, or it will be the worse for you, slave.” Another crack of the riding crop against my skin had me moving as fast as my legs would carry me.
Looking around frantically, trying to locate the cupboard, I noticed that I wasn't the only one crawling around. There were already five girls on the floor in front of me, and trusting that we were all heading to the same place, I followed them. Sure enough, a large steel cupboard loomed in front of us, and as soon as we got there, everyone began scrabbling about to get their items. The bottles of lube were easy enough to spot, thankfully, so I grabbed one in my teeth and began scuttling back to my table. I had no idea if a minute had passed, but I nearly killed my lungs trying to crawl at a pace faster than the speed of light, and yes, I am well aware that is technically impossible.
When I got back to my newest tormentor. I placed the bottle at his feet and waited to see what would happen. With any luck, he might have had a brain haemorrhage in the last minute or so.
“I think she made the minute, Henry. So you’ll have to curtail some of your nastiness. Looks like this one is quite fit for a change.” Brian was again trying his best to pull me out of the biggest heap of quicksand I had ever seen, but judging by the look on Henry’s face, he was not amused.
“Assume the position, slave.” Henry’s boot in my ribs encouraged me to move a little faster. Thankfully, it didn’t have any real force behind it.
Shoving my ass up in the air once more, my head protested as it once again met the cold, hard tiles. Now what? If he was coming at me with that riding crop again, I swear I was going to put him on my hit list… just as soon as I’d murdered Dumortier. Shit. How on earth was I going to survive six months of this?
“If I’m going to play with your ass, I figure it should be nice and clean, slave.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I had a bad feeling about it. From my position down on the floor with my hands over my head, I couldn’t see a thing, but I heard the clink of glass upon metal. Was Henry having a drink? There was laughter from around the table, but I didn’t catch the conversation that came before it, and it didn’t bode well. Brian was going to be a pussycat compared to the rest of these psychos.
When my hair was yanked upwards, and Henry towered over me waving a shot glass in front of my face, I yelped. His grip on my hair roots was fierce and unexpected. Blinking in pain, I waited to see what would happen next.
“Know what this is, slave?” He waved his small glass at me, and the clear liquid sloshed around in waves. Henry drew it backwards and forwards in front of my face, and I wrinkled my nose. The fumes of vodka were unmistakable.
“The bottle said vodka, Sir.” The rest of the men laughed again, and it appeared the joke was on me.
"Want a sip?" Henry tilted his head to the side and looked at me questioningly.
“No thank you, Sir,” I said quietly. The last thing I needed was a head swirling with alcohol.
It was the wrong answer. The riding crop came flying down on my backside eliciting a gasp from me as my face creased in pain.
“Wrong answer, slave. So I’ll ask again. Do you want a sip?”
It didn't take a genius to figure out this game, and I had no desire to fight a losing battle, so I said, "Yes please, Sir."
"Better. Now open wide." Henry's eyes had taken on a very excited gleam, and they scared me. What was the man planning?
Opening my mouth wide for him, I waited to find out. Unfortunately, a sip turned out to be the whole shot of vodka, and Henry practically threw the thing down my throat. Coughing and spluttering, I somehow managed to swallow the awful stuff down. It burned a fiery path down my throat, and my eyes watered. Neat Vodka was not my drink of choice.
"Did you like that?" Henry gave me a leering a look and poured another shot. I hoped to hell that this one was meant for him. "Time for another, Thirty-Eight." My face fell. This wasn't a fun game, and I had to think quickly. If they got me drunk I'd be useless, and, more than that, a liability. I had too many secrets to risk spilling them this early in the game. While they might not be as dangerous here as they would be in Carte Blanche, if anyone found out what I did for a living I was going to be in a shit load of trouble.
"Open wide." Debating on whether I should tell Henry I really wasn't very fond of vodka, I decided to try another tactic. This time when he threw the vodka, I angled my head slightly, so I didn't get the full hit. It wasn't pretty because I had vodka dribbling down my chin, but it served its purpose. This time, there was only half a mouthful to swallow.
“Where are your glasses, Henry? The girl’s got most of it all over her.” This was from the investment banker, who most definitely didn’t have my best interests at heart.
“Get over here
,” Henry barked at me, and his tone of voice told me all I needed to know. I was in trouble.
"This time you'll swallow the whole lot, or I'll shove the bottle in your ass." Grabbing the bottle from the table again, he got his hands around my face and squeezed my jaw open. Upending the bottle, he poured the thing into me until my mouth was full to overflowing. "Swallow," he barked again.
There was nothing for it. Knocking the liquid back, I tried to figure out how many units of alcohol I had just had. Three or four? More? I had no way of knowing. I’d just have to hope it didn’t hit me too hard and that he wouldn’t give me any more, else I’d be on the floor in no time.
“New slaves are always a little easier to handle when they’ve had a bit of vodka, I find,” Henry said, addressing the table.
“What you mean is, you’re not fast enough to run after her when you do something she doesn’t like. If she’s staggering around the place, she’s easier to catch,” said Investment Banker, looking amused.
“That too,” agreed Henry.
Brian sighed. “Do we have to do this tonight, Henry?”
Henry ignored him. Producing a funnel from his pocket, he turned back to me and said, “Assume the position.”
When I didn’t move fast enough, I got a wallop on the backside from his hand. “Now,” he barked. It didn’t take me long to realise that I didn’t like Henry very much. Back on my knees with my ass in the air, I braced myself for the worst.
I heard the snap of a pair of latex gloves being donned and before I knew what was happening, more lube was being applied to both my pussy and ass. Great. When something hard and plastic was inserted inside me, I knew what was going to happen next. Sure enough, the gurgling sound of liquid being poured followed, and the smell of neat alcohol was unmistakable. Oh God. Warm heat began to steal through me, and it wasn't sure whether it was from the vodka, or whether it was the humiliation of being treated this way, whatever the reason when Henry started slapping my ass this way and that, everything between my legs became extremely hot and bothered. The funnel was twisted around inside my pussy, and a couple of splattering bubbles could be heard as the liquid continued to work its way inside me. I'd just have to hope vodka couldn't do any long-term damage to my ovaries.
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