Chapter 2: Little Lukey Takes His Turn
...Pressure and pain and pleasure and -
SMACK
Clara jerked awake to a sharp slap across her breast. Jason was on top of her, already inside her. He had spread her legs and begun to fuck her while she slept. He was propping himself up with one hand and swatting at her breasts with the other, giggling and leering.
"Morning, Pussy!" He said, still pumping himself slowly in and out. "Thought you'd wake up from a good fucking, but you were all like..." he lolled his head back and made an exaggerated snoring sound, then laughed again. "Come on, I need your head in the game."
Clara just stared at him in horror, her mind blank with shock. She moved to shield her breasts from another painful slap, but even that slightest defiance was enough to trigger a warning clench of pain in her stomach as the nanobots activated inside her. That shook off the last vestiges of sleep-induced amnesia and she realised fully where she was. Yesterday had not been a nightmare or a one-off aberration. Jason and his friends truly did intend to use her as a sex slave for their juvenile fantasies, to pass her around from one to the next to the next to....
"Ok, that's enough of the dead fish act, Pussy." Jason sat up, withdrawing his still-rigid cock from inside her. "You're gonna let me fuck you doggy-style now." He smugly eyed her naked body and she almost moved to cover herself with her hands, remembering just in time that it would surely earn her another jolt of pain.
"Wh...what?" she managed to ask.
"Ha ha, wow, you really don't know!" He laughed. "You must be the most innocent little sex slave in the world. Don't worry, I'll teach you. Roll over, get up on your hands and knees, and point that cute ass of yours at me."
Now that she understood the order she had to obey. Her muscles ached from yesterday's assaults and violations as she brought herself up. Her full round breasts hung down between her arms, still pink and stinging from Jason's slaps. She was ashamed to see that her nipples were fully erect.
Doesn't mean anything,
she told herself. She repeated it -
doesn't mean anything
- as she presented her ass for the man... the boy... who now owned her. She repeated it in her mind like a mantra and tried to breathe out the shame.
Then -
WHACK. WHACK.
Two sharp slaps, one to each of her ass cheeks, brought an abrupt end to her meditation. She yelped in pain and looked over her shoulder to see the grinning face of Jason.
"Just making sure you were still with me," he said. "Ok, now I'm gonna do you a favour and go nice and slow, sound good?" He lined up his cock with the lips of her pussy and placed his hands on her hips. She took a deep breath.
He thrust forward hard and fast, pulling her back into him at the same time.
"Aaahh!" She let out her breath in a startled scream. Jason just laughed and fucked her harder. He ground his hips against hers, reaching as deep inside her as he could. She squealed and fell forward, her head hitting the mattress even as her ass was held up.
"Nope," Jason said, reaching one arm under her breasts and pulling her back up into position. "Stay up. And push back into me when I go forward."
Clara was overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, but of course she had to obey. Against her will her body became a sexual thing, finding his rhythm and matching it, moving into him to receive his cock, letting him plunge into her deeper and deeper and deeper. The initial pain of his sudden intrusion was melting into pleasure like she'd never felt before.
When he no longer needed his hands on her hips to guide her movement, he roamed them across her body. First stroking up and down her back, then reaching forward to hold and squeeze her breasts. His left hand stayed there, fingers teasing and stroking at her nipple. She felt a rising heat in her belly growing and growing like something about to explode. His right hand moved up to her long red hair. He grabbed a thick handful and pulled it while pinching her nipple sharply. She squealed in pain, but even the pain felt good now.
"Owww oh my God!" she cried.
"Oh my God!" he grunted.
They kept saying it together as the pleasure inside her grew and grew until she burst into an orgasm that made her thighs quiver.
"Oh my God oh my God oh my Goooooooooood-"
As she came, he went rigid and then gripped her shoulders tightly with both hands, pulling her back as hard as he could to get even deeper inside. She felt him twitching as he pumped his cum inside her, his entire body rock-hard and stiff, then all at once he collapsed on top of her. She could hold his weight up for only a moment, then she fell down too. They lay motionless on the bed, his cock still inside her, both of them drenched in sweat, panting heavily and completely, utterly spent.
Clara tried to keep her mind separate from the feelings of her body. Jason was holding her gently, like a lover instead of a slave, his breathing soft on her ear, and the endorphins flooding her body made her want to do nothing more than fall back asleep in his arms.
But it's still rape,
she told herself.
He's still a sadist who enjoys hurting you, enjoys that you don't want to be here. It's still wrong.
But-
"Fuuuck, that felt good," he said. He rolled off her, and she hated herself for feeling disappointed as his cock slid out of her. He lay on his side while she stayed face-down and curled up. "You gotta admit, that was the best sex you've ever had."
She shrugged.
"Use your words, Pussy. Answer me," he said, poking her in the butt cheek with one finger.
"Can you please stop calling me that?"
"What, Pussy?" He laughed. "Remember what the pamphlet said. Best to show you right away how things are gonna be, so you can adjust faster. I'm doing this for you, Pussy," he said mockingly. "And enough of turning away from me. Roll over and look me in the face while we're having a conversation. It's only civilized."
She rolled over and he began to shamelessly leer at her body. He rested his head on one hand while the other explored her breasts, teasing her nipples again.
"Good girl. Now, as I was saying, best sex of your life, right?"
"The only other sex I've had was yesterday, when you wrestled me, ripped off my clothes and raped me in front of your disgusting friends. So yeah, congratulations, this morning wins by default."
He laughed. "You're very rude, you know. Gonna have to find a suitable punishment for that."
"Sorry."
"And four of my disgusting friends raped you after me, don't forget that."
"I haven't."
He started gently flicking at her nipple. "But this wasn't a 'wins by default' sort of fuck, was it? Tell the truth. You came."
She sighed. "Yes."
"Hard."
"Yes."
"And you liked it when I pulled your hair and -" he pinched her nipple hard without warning. She gasped and winced but nodded.
"Fucking amazing," he grinned. "But, much as I'd love to spend the day discovering the hidden depths of your depravity, I gotta get ready for work." He got up and grabbed some clothes from his wardrobe. He looked back at her, still lying naked on his bed, and sighed wistfully. "You are just fucking gorgeous, you know that? Some girls only look great til you get their clothes off, and then it's all droopy tits and weird pussies, but you are just... chef's kiss."
She rolled her eyes at his casual cruelty. "Is that the plan then? You're all going to make me be naked, 24/7?"
"It's certainly tempting, but Little Lukey's coming to pick you up in two hours or so, and people might complain if we start driving a naked girl around town, even a slave." He headed out the door. "You can have a shower after I'm done and grab your clothes from my Dad's study."
She stayed in the bed for awhile, long after the sounds of the shower had finished. There was no pain forcing her to move - she realised it must have been because he said "you CAN have a shower" which gave her freedom to choose - so she simply lay there, the delayed shock of the last twenty four traumatic hours causing a storm of emotion and anxiety to rush through her body. This was her life now. She was as trapped as anyone had ever been. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Sex slave, fucktoy, eye candy, plaything.
And Jason alone would have been bad enough - he had always been a jerk - but to be passed along to another one so soon... She had no idea what to expect from any of the others. She remembered some of them from high school. They'd been classmates, maybe some she'd even thought of as casual friends. She'd thought most of them were basically good guys.
Clearly she had been wrong.
She got out of the bed and stood in front of Jason's full length mirror. She examined her body, trying to understand what could drive the boys to such lengths. Fine, she was slender while still having pretty appealing curves, and yes her boobs were nice and big without being saggy, and she'd heard that some men went nuts for redheads -
but were they really driven to such acts of evil, just to get what was between her legs? In a symbolic act of defiance against Jason she refused to think of it as her pussy, but him naming her after it made his obsession pretty clear. She looked at it now in the mirror, staring hollow-eyed at this part of her body that had doomed her to slavery. With the grooming the boys had forced her to get yesterday it was more exposed than it had ever been. She ran a finger down the rectangle of short hair -the landing strip, they'd called it - which was all that remained of her pubic hair.
Disgusted as she was by Jason's comments about other women's bodies, she supposed she could see what he was saying. With it neatly trimmed, when she stood with her legs together her vagina made a neat little cleft that did provide a sort of aesthetic appeal.
Well, it wasn't neat right now. Right now it was as sweaty and flushed as the rest of her, and slowly leaking Jason's cum to boot.
She shuddered.
Ok, fuck it. Shower time
.
She left Jason's room, walking naked through the hallway. She was pretty sure he'd left and there was no one else in the house.
Or so she hoped, anyway.
The warm shower water was soft and soothing on her bruised and battered body. For a few blessed minutes her mind was serene and blank. But her peace couldn't last. She knew there was a ticking clock until her next master, Luke, came for her. She tried to remember what she could about him from high school. He was short and thin - Little Lukey, Jason had called him, a nickname that had apparently survived graduation - and he had always had a very shy, quiet demeanour. She'd never known him to date or have a girlfriend. He had been the sort to follow along behind the louder crasser boys, sometimes teased, sometimes tolerated, but, she thought, never quite considered an equal.
She wondered how he felt about her being his slave. Certainly he hadn't participated in the wrestling-match-slash-gang-rape she had endured yesterday. He had watched, she remembered seeing him in the back of the room. He had seemed nervous and, perhaps, embarrassed? Ashamed? Surely he knew it was wrong. He wasn't like Jason, he was sensitive, maybe he would even help her.
