Poor Little Rich Slut

by Dusseau, Lizbeth

  “Madeleine, you come here and get the little rich girl roused?” He motioned to the sidelines and a waifish, blonde girl with short, feathery hair appeared, moving directly to my side. She fondled my privates with her fingers and almost instantly, I could feel my juices flowing out over her hand.

  “See what she is? Nothing but another lousy cum-slut,” he spoke to the audience beyond the lights, then he whipped back around and spoke to the girl, “don’t you dare let her cum.”

  “No, sir,” she sweetly answered. She peered up at me with an impish grin.

  Other hands reached in from behind and began to play with my breasts. Responding to the glorious feel of their hands caressing my flesh, I quickly drifted into a delirious and pleasurable stupor. The slow build brought me within seconds of a crashing orgasm. But those fondling hands suddenly withdrew. After that, my exposed and dangling bottom became the object of attack as several fingers began a sensuous massage of my back door, poking carefully at first, then those invading fingers sunk ever deep, opening me wide. Again my body felt the crescendoing swell of arousal and need colliding, and my orgasm threatened to explode despite the master’s vow. But just before that happened, the invading hand withdrew. I’d been denied again.

  “Oh, gawd, no, no, no,” I shook my head, groaning inside the hood.

  “What was that you said?” the master confronted me.

  I froze and looked up into his eyes pleadingly.

  He laughed a full belly laugh and turned to those behind me. “Bring her closer to the front of the cage. The slut’s had enough for now.”

  Over the next several minutes, two large men lifted the chair with me in it and repositioned me so that my open thighs were no more than inches from the bars of the cage. The spotlights were turned off and everything around me dimmed. I was blinded for several minutes as my eyes adjusted to the setting and I could peer at the room outside of my cage. The commotion died behind me, the master left, and to my left, I heard the sound of a padlock clicking shut. I turned just enough to see that I’d been locked alone inside the cage. I didn’t panic since the room beyond me crawled with people—some quite literally crawling—as the scene of an erotic masquerade ball played out before me. Most of those attending were dressed in some sort of fetish fashions, leather, lace, kinky costumes, slutty off the rack attire. Many were masked, while others wore heavy make-up, which disguised appearances as much. Some wore hoods like mine. Some were naked like me.

  As far as I could tell, I was the only caged submissive in the large room—which seemed to be an aging vacant warehouse. Perhaps it was a nightclub; there were spotlights and colored light arrays shining down from the ceiling. Above the music, I could hear the sounds of whips, of paddles, of screaming, sobs and laughter. Still delirious from whatever I’d been drugged with, my mind reeled on without focus, darting from one picture to the next. As the mind-numbing daze continued, my arousal abated into a slow, gentle roar, nothing as noxious as it had once been.

  I was relieved, at least for a time, that I was left to myself; I needed to catch my breath. It didn’t take long, however, before I realized how much my body ached. My arms cramped, my legs were sore and the two beers I’d quickly downed were now settled annoyingly on my bladder. I had to piss.

  When the attention in the room turned back to me, those outside the cage reached in and played with my body again, bringing back the rush of sexual feeling I momentarily lost. But my distress grew as my arousal climbed. Even with the hood on, it must have been possible to see the way I grimaced. Now outside the cage with the others, the cruel master peered at me, gloatingly.

  “What’s the matter, princess slut?”

  I refused to speak.

  He reached in with his large hand and began to fondle me as he had before. I rode his hand, straining against the ropes. The crowd around the cage grew bigger and more rowdy. They came with canes and prods, leather slappers and wooden slats. They might as well have spat on me. The master poked my belly with a billy club. “How’s that feel?”

  I breathed in sharply.

  “I think you like it.” He kept on poking my belly. Then he reached in a little further and shoved the blunt, rounded end of the club up my ass. I thought then I’d lose everything in my bladder; I could barely hold on. “What’s the matter, Heiress, don’t you like it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Tell Master why you fret so,” he said, as if he were talking to a child, mocking me. I shuddered deeply, again feeling as if I was about to explode my body fluids, my cum and piss, all over the cage.

  He pressed my bladder with his hand.

  “Bet she has to piss,” someone else said.

  “Is that so?” he asked.

  I nodded yes.

  “Not good enough. You tell me you have to piss, I’ll let you.”

  I took a deep breath while trying to decide if I should give in. But his jibes and his prodding became too intense and I finally blurted out:

  “Please, Master, may I piss?”

  “What was that?” Of course he’d heard me.

  “Master, may I piss, please?”

  “Hum? I didn’t hear you?”

  The game was cruel but I had no choice but to play.

  “Please, Master, I need to pee!” My voice rose up.

  He turned to the crowd around me. “Did you hear that?”

  The crowd loved the game.

  “I’m afraid we can’t hear you, slut.” He started to walk away.

  “Master, Sir, please, I beg you,” I shouted, “may I please pee?”

  He turned back slowly and smiled.

  “Why of course. Go ahead and piss.”

  There? Piss right there. My eyes questioned him though I didn’t open my mouth.

  He laughed seeing my distress, then scowled. “Someone get a bucket for the bitch. I don’t want her dirtying my cage.”

  He turned away, while those behind him stayed. A bucket appeared in the hand of the blonde waif-girl and was set between my legs and under my crotch. “It’s the only way you’ll get out of there,” she whispered to me. “Trust me, I know.”

  Madeleine exited the cage, locking it again, while I contemplated my dilemma. The only way I’d relieve myself was to piss right there before the dozens who looked on. While I could barely hold my bladder, something stronger, some will, some tattered pride remained and when I actually tried to pee, I couldn’t force myself.

  More jeered at me, more reached in to torment me. My horniness waned as my discomfort grew desperate. I kept telling myself that I had to go… and finally, little by little, the tight clench in my body weakened. A drizzle of warm piss leaked. Then I closed my eyes and breathed deep and everything let go. My pee splashed against the metal bucket in a long, steady, noisy stream. I could see them jeering at me even with my eyes closed.

  All that I could think at that moment: if only they could see my face!

  With the hood on, I was a non-person, nobody, just a body, just a cunt and ass and a pair of tits. Yes, of course, master could call me an heiress and claim I was some rich-bitch society girl, but no one would know for sure.

  Inside my brain, this little voice kept screaming from afar— If only they could see your face, Eleanor. I heard that slutty, self-destructive submissive calling to me, shouting at me to reveal myself as the pissing little cum-slut. I wanted to expose myself!

  But, just as clearly as I heard that rebellious woman, my sane self called back to me, Dear God, Eleanor, what have you become?

  I became so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize I was no longer alone in the cage. The bucket had been taken away and someone pulled the chair back from the bars. Master crouched in front of me again.

  “So, does humiliation feed your lust, too?” he asked, as again he tickled my privates with his fingers. I thought for a moment that my sex had gone numb. The heavy weight still hung annoyingly from the chain and the sexual ache in me had been so great that I couldn’t feel much of anything. But
then his human hand, the simple touch brought all the sweet sexual feelings back again and I wanted to cum. The need rose up angrily and I thought I’d explode, permission granted or not I’d explode and get it over with no matter what the consequences might be.

  I thought that one instant, but then the next a terrible pain rifled through my body. The clamps on my nipples were tightened down and the screaming anguish rushed through every nerve.

  “You want to cum?” the master asked me.

  “Oh, dear God, yes,” I cried.

  “Yes, I suppose you do, dear girl. I might even let you, if you can find me.”

  He stood up and walked toward the barred door of the cage, saying to the others, “Let her go. If she wants me, let her find me, long as she belly-crawls across the floor. Alex, you’ll hold the leash.”

  He strode off the platform where the cage sat and disappeared into the crowd.

  I was then released from the bondage chair, then the nipple clamps and the chain were removed. The ring in my nose remained however and so did the hood.

  With a leash snapped onto a large ring in the collar, the tall, gangly Alex pulled me off the seat. I collapsed in a heap and stayed there for several minutes trying to get my body working again.

  Alex finally tugged on the chain, “On your belly, slut,” he said. “Crawl on your belly and quick. The cage gets hosed down. Mistress Rita’s going to butt-fuck her bitch.”

  I tried to crawl on hands and knees, only to have Alex smack my ass with a long-handled paddle. “I said, on your belly!”

  I dropped to the floor and began to slither along the hard wood toward the stairs, then down the stairs to the floor of the makeshift ballroom and into the crowd. I felt as if he were leading me, when, in fact, I was navigating and Alex only kept me on the move. The crowd refused to part, so I had to wriggle my way around stiletto heels and jackboots and barefoot slaves as I searched for the master. Several times I was briefly stepped on; twice I was used as a footstool to help some female balance on her spike-heeled shoes. I worried that my fingers or toes would get stomped on by some a heavy-footed male, but at least to start, I managed to effectively dodge the feet.

  Although my groveling crawl became deeply degrading, the anonymity tempered the humiliation. Even though a hundred people feasted on my debasement, I played my part in secret. No one knew who I was.

  I belly-crawled my way around the room, sliding against the dirty floor, my nose picking up foul body scents and my lips practically tasting the scum the others walked on. Disgusting. Depraved. Still, I pressed on. Regardless of this degradation, I was as turned-on as I was when the master fondled me. Even as I crawled, the floor caressed my naked mound and reminded me every second that my arousal had not been satisfied, and was now only increased as I slithered on with Alex behind me, smacking my butt whenever he felt like it. I desperately wanted to find the man who held me in his power, but Alex liked to stop my progress, pulling on my leash and ordering me to present my butt.

  “Raise it up! I want a good whack at it,” he’d say.

  I raised my poor bottom as high as it would go without lifting my chest and felt not only his wooden paddle, but also the sting of whips, canes and even the rude smacking of a hand or two from those around me. When he decided I’d had enough, he pushed me down with his boot and tugged me forward. I slithered on.

  When I recognized one particular pair of boots in the crowd, my heart leapt anxiously. I was almost certain that they were Garrison’s. Like his, these were made of fine Italian leather in deep mahogany color and perfectly shined.

  I wasn’t sure Garrison noticed me at first, then I felt a sudden tugging at the back of my neck. He pulled me back and upright on my knees. I craned my neck looking into his face. He gazed back into my eyes but didn’t say a word. Any small encouragement now would have been welcome, but there was none. He pushed me back down and kicked me along with the toe of his boot; the feeling of abandonment was crushing.

  Another ten minutes of this horror followed until I finally recognized the master’s boots. I grabbed at his ankles frantically and held on.

  “What’s this?” he looked down.

  I peered up at him from the floor.

  He shook off my hands and lifted my chin with his boot.

  “What a dirty bitch you are now,” he laughed.

  Hot tears burned my eyes.

  “You seek me out. What do you want?”

  The words were caught in my throat. I could feel the desire welling inside me, but for some reason, I felt the humiliation more keenly at that moment than I had before. The degrading behavior seemed like a dream up until that moment; now it was real and repugnant. I disgusted myself, even as an anxious, grinding lust made my belly wrench with spasms.

  He shook me off. “If you fucking can’t speak, how the hell am I supposed to know what you want?” He turned away, almost stepping on my fingers. I reached out for him again and he turned back.

  “Master, please!” I voiced as loudly as I could to be heard over the sound of the heavy metal music.

  “Out with it, slut!”

  “Master, please, please may I please cum? Please…” I began to sob. “Please, Master, please.” I pulled in closer clutching his legs in my arms, even when Alex tried to jerk me back.

  “Cum? You want to cum?” he said looking down at me.

  He reached low and pulled me up. I could see the dust and dirt clinging to my body but I didn’t care. I was on my feet. Damn! The man was tall. A good foot or more above me, so I still had to crane my neck to see his face—to have him see my pleading one, half-hidden behind the hood.

  His hand reached in-between my legs and he toyed with the opening of my vagina. A finger delicately ran along my slit, then slid inside where it located that sweet bud of my “G” spot. I panted breathlessly, while my pheromones wafted upward. I could smell my own arousal along with the heady perfume of the master’s body.

  “Oh, please, Master,” I gasped. My body convulsed with fiery, burning spasms. I sank against his leather-clad body, sobbing, cumming, moaning as I clutched him to me. His hand was soaked with my juices but he kept on playing with me. He moved his attention toward my anus where another bright climax of feeling burst from me. “Oh, gawd, gawd, yes,” I hissed, while breathing in sharply.

  Finally, I collapsed against him and he held me.

  The crowd had seen it all and I didn’t care. Garrison had no doubt seen me, too, and I was glad of that, even proud of what I’d done. If this was his test, certainly I’d shown him that I could go as deep and far as a woman could go. If he thought me weak before, he certainly would not now.

  The master held me until at last he bent down and pressed his lips to mine for a long, slow kiss. Then we parted.

  “So, girl, you’ve had your night in hell.”

  “Thank you, Master.” I bowed my head respectfully.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” he said. The crowd was still gathered around us, listening intently.

  I looked up. “I don’t know what you’re asking, Master.”

  “This is damn, fucking easy for you, rich girl, making your big show.”

  “No, Master, it is not easy.” I protested.

  “Oh, but I say it is. You know it’s easy, you have that hood to hide behind. How about we take it off and see what kind groveling you do then. Huh?”

  I shrunk back in fear.

  He laughed. “Got you on that, didn’t I?”

  “Please no,” I said, begging.

  “Oh, but how can you really know humiliation if you don’t show your face, let us know who you are? How can it get inside your gut and rattle around there if you play it safe?”

  My vanquished body heard his words and trembled with fear. The master saw my terrified response and grinned again.

  “Oh, you don’t want to play it safe, do you?” he said. “I think you want people to know. You want to share it… oh, yeah, I can feel that arouse you. I feel your desire blooming just hearing
me talk about it.” He placed his hand on my belly. “Alex, unlock the locks.” Alex moved in behind me and began fiddling with the collar and hood. “Go on, unmask yourself, girl. Expose yourself. You think this world is going to judge you, huh? Do it. What happens in this place doesn’t leave here. You can trust that.”

  I shook my head, aghast, feeling as if I’d just been slapped in the face. “Please, I-I can’t.” I began to cry.

  He slapped me lightly. “No tears, girl. We don’t really care.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  He viewed me critically a moment more, then shook his head.

  “Go home, slut, clean up,” he said. “You’ve had enough of this place tonight and we’ve had enough of you. And while you’re thinking about what happened here tonight, you might realize that you don’t belong here. Rich bitch, this is not your world. You can go back to yours thinking you conquered ours, but if you want to come again, if you want to do it right, you’ll show us some respect and let us see your face. The masks come off at midnight around here, if not before. You’ve seen my face the entire night. You keep yours hidden.” He shook his head. “It’s time for you to leave.”

  After all he’d earlier said to me that was scowling and cynical, these last words were free of bitterness. Just plainly stated facts. This was his world, his rules, and I didn’t belong here.

  Once the master said his peace, Alex walked me through the crowd toward the far end of the building and led me into a washroom. He removed the ring that was still lodged in my nostrils, then left, closing the door behind him.

  I looked around at the small room seeing my clothes hanging on a nearby hook. I reached behind my head and removed the locks from the rings and pulled the headgear off. I stared in the mirror. My face seemed misshapen and my sweaty hair was plastered to my head. I shook it out and tried to comb it, but that was a wasted effort. I gave up, deciding that I deserved my ragged appearance after what I’d been through. I managed to wash most of the loose dirt from my body; the rest would have to wait until I was home and I could shower. My simple, brown work suit seemed strange to me and not at all how I wanted to dress. I wanted to go back into that great, big, pulsing dungeon, but when I tried to peek out for one last glimpse of the alluring sight, I discovered that the door was locked from the outside. There was no way back.