Earning Forgiveness Ch 03

Content Warning:

This story contains intense depictions of cruelty toward the main character. It is purely a work of fantasy and should not be interpreted as a reflection of real-life behaviour or actions.

Please read the content warnings in Ch. 01 and do not continue if this will cause you distress.

The taxi pulled up outside a house that Emma recognised. It belonged to a friend of William and James, a man called Daniel. She had met him once or twice, and didn't much like him. He was from the same mould as William: perverted and lazy. William clipped the lead to the ring in her collar while James paid for the taxi, and they walked up the stairs to Daniel's house.

Daniel pulled the door open and laughed loudly when Emma averted her eyes respectfully. "I see you've finally taught the whore her place then, James? About time, too." He stepped aside to let them into the hallway.

"Where do you want us to put this?" William asked, nodding in Emma's direction.

"Oh, just tie her up anywhere. The others will be arriving soon."

William tightly knotted the lead to the banister, forcing Emma to stand facing the door. Without another word, they left her in the hallway and walked into the living room. Emma had hoped that they would be going to meet people she didn't know; the thought of more people that she knew showing up filled her with dread.

There was a knock on the door, and Daniel came to answer. He opened the door and Emma saw a woman stood there; another of William's friends, and one that Emma had always thought of as a cheap tramp. Today she looked smart, and glanced at Emma with a sneer. She slipped off her coat and held it out to Daniel. "Where shall I put this?"

"Just drop it on the slut," he said casually, and Lisa threw her coat in Emma's direction. Emma reached out to catch it, expecting punishment if she let it fall, and Lisa laughed at her.

"You're certainly eager to please, aren't you? We'll see just how eager later, I suppose."

One by one, people arrived. Some of them Emma knew and disliked; others she had never met before. Only one other woman arrived: someone Emma didn't know. But all of them looked at Emma, if they looked at all, with casual disdain. They were better and more important than her, and they all knew it.

Emma's arms were aching under the weight of the heavy winter coats and jackets, and she longed to put them down. Finally, William came back out into the hallway and unfastened her leash. "Put the coats in one of the bedrooms upstairs and then come into the living room," he ordered quietly.

She did as she was told quickly, and once in the living room she moved to stand in the nearest corner, eyes downcast. They were all staring at her; mocking and degrading stares.

"How would you like us to treat the slave?"

The question was aimed at James and William, and James answered coolly. "She's not quite broken in yet, I'll admit. She's still getting used to the idea that she's less important than the dirt on our shoes. So feel free to order her to do whatever you want; she's under strict instructions to obey, and it can only make her learn more quickly."

She could feel the air change. All eyes were on her, all the guests no doubt wondering how each of them could do their bit to humiliate her. Lisa spoke first. "Come here, bitch." Emma moved forwards to stand in front of the other woman. "Look at me." Reluctantly, Emma raised her gaze. Why did they all make her look them in the eyes? She could see triumphant pleasure shining in Lisa's face. "Take off your clothes."

Miserably, Emma did as she was told. She removed the halter-neck first, followed by the little leather skirt. "I like the butt-plug," a man said behind her. "How long has she had it in there?"

James answered him, and all of a sudden, conversations were starting up around them. The message couldn't have been clearer: she was an object, and they couldn't care less about her. They would pay her attention when they wanted to, but otherwise she might as well not have been there.

Lisa, however, continued to look at her. "Passable, I suppose. Tell me, do you like being naked in front of this many people?"

"Yes miss," Emma spat out.

"Oh dear, I see what James means," said Lisa in a sickly-sweet voice. "You really aren't quite used to your new station in life, are you? Never mind. We're all here to help you learn, you know." Lisa reached down and unbuckled her stiletto. "I've been walking in these all day and they're absolutely filthy." Emma waited to see where she was going with this. "As James said, you are worth less than the dirt on our shoes," she continued. "To help you understand that, you are going to get down onto your knees and lick my shoes clean. But first, you will thank me for allowing you to even look at my shoes."

Emma was silent for a moment, staring at the stiletto that Lisa was holding. The bottom looked disgusting: as though she had deliberately walked through as much filth as she could before arriving. Emma took a deep breath, and managed to mutter thanks. "Thank you, miss, for allowing me near your shoes."

Lisa nodded sanctimoniously, and held her stiletto out. Emma took it and poked her tongue out, dabbing lightly at the bottom. She felt sick. "Come now, you can do better than that." Lisa took the stiletto from her and held it. "Open wide." Emma did so. "Now, stick your tongue all the way out. Keep it out, that's right." Lisa gripped Emma's jaw and ran the sole of her shoe down the length of her tongue. Emma could taste the dirt and grime in her mouth, and tried not to wrench her face away from Lisa's grasp. "That's more like it," Lisa said, as she reached down to unbuckle her other shoe. "Now, keep going with both shoes like that until they're completely clean. I'll be checking them afterwards."

Without a second thought, Lisa joined a conversation going on beside her, completely ignoring Emma. Afraid that someone might notice if she stopped licking properly, Emma continued to use the full length of her tongue, trying to ignore the taste and feel in her mouth. She felt ridiculous, kneeling in a room full of people and cleaning shoes with her tongue while no-one was even looking at her, but she felt compelled to carry on, just in case someone noticed.

Eventually, Lisa pulled the stilettos from her grip and inspected them carefully. "They'll do," she said doubtfully. "Put them on my feet, slave."

Emma did as she was told, buckling the shoes onto Lisa's feet and hating every moment of it. She was ordered onto her hands and knees, and Lisa rested her feet on her. She remained there for some time while everyone continued to ignore her. Lisa's heels were digging into her back and her knees were pressing painfully into the carpet, but she was relieved that nothing worse was being done to her.

At last, Lisa removed her feet, giving Emma a brief respite before the next command came. "Slave, come over here." It was one of the men she hadn't met before. He was fat and unshaved, and Emma didn't want to approach him. Still, she did as she was told. "Take the butt-plug out of your arsehole."

"Yes, sir." Slowly, Emma eased it out. She had to tense as she did so, because she was afraid of what else might come out otherwise. She held it gingerly, by the end that had not been inside her.

"Put it in your cunt." Emma looked at it. It was slick with her shit and she didn't want it anywhere near her. She hesitated a moment too long. "Put it in your cunt, bitch, or I'll shove it in your mouth and you'll keep it there."

His threat pushed her into action, and she quickly inserted the filthy butt-plug into her pussy. It slid in easily, and she felt nauseous at the thought that it was lubricated by her own shit. She looked up at the man, hoping that she would be allowed to remove it now, but he just waved her back to stand in the corner. She knew better than to move the butt-plug without permission.

Her arse-hole felt stretched beyond belief, and she soon felt an uncomfortable sensation rising up in her. She tried for as long as she could to hold it in, but eventually she had to speak up. "Master?"

William was nearer to her than James, and he looked up. "Do you need to take a shit?"

"Yes, master." She spoke quietly, hoping to avoid the attention of the crowd. But William was having none of it.

"Dan," he said in a loud voice, "the slave needs to shit. We don't allow her to use the toilet; have you got a compost heap or something?"

Daniel grinned and nodded. "In the garden. Do you want me to take her?"

"Why don't we all go," the other woman said with a smirk. "We could do with some light entertainment."

The idea seemed to appeal to the group, and the woman led Emma out and into the back garden. Emma was having great difficulty walking with the butt-plug in her pussy, and she stumbled more than once. Each time, they all laughed at her. Daniel pushed her in the direction of the compost heap. "Go on then, bitch. Do your business."

Emma crawled over to the compost and crouched, relieved that they hadn't bound her hands this time. She turned away from the crowd, and James called out harshly to her. "Hands and knees, bitch, and keep that arse nice and high."

So she wouldn't be allowed to crouch. She got awkwardly onto her hands and knees, and pushed her arse into the air. She couldn't hold it any longer, and her bowels emptied themselves quickly. She heard them laughing behind her, and was mortified to feel her bladder emptying too. When she finally finished, she was a mess: compost on her hands and knees, and piss and shit running down her legs.

"Absolutely revolting," came an amused male voice. "She has no self-respect at all."

"Then she must be finally learning her place," one of the others drawled casually. The man told Emma to stand up, and then hit her with the hose. The water was freezing, but at least she was clean. "Dry yourself off before you come back in," he said, throwing a dirty towel at her. "And take that butt-plug out of your cunt as well, you disgusting little tramp; it's filthy."

When she was dry, she returned to her corner and was ignored yet again. She was relieved to be free of the butt-plug at last, and tried to make the most of the time she had before one or another of the group decided to torment her again.

It was the other woman who looked at Emma next; Emma had heard one of the others call her Joanne. "Slave," she called.

"Yes, miss?"

"Do you like getting fucked in the arse?"

Please, anything but that, Emma thought. "Yes miss," she said.

"Excellent. Come here." Emma approached, wondering what on earth Joanne was planning to fuck her with. "Have you eaten pussy before, slave?"

"No, miss."

"Then I think now is an excellent time to start, don't you?"

"Yes, miss."

"Take off your shoes." Emma did so, thoroughly confused now. "You're going to eat my pussy now," Joanne said. "And while you do so you will fuck yourself in the arse with the heel of your shoe."

"Yes, miss." Emma's heart sank at the thought, and realised that the whole group was now sitting back to watch the entertainment.

"You will stop eating my pussy only when I pull your face away."

She pulled up her skirt and presented her cunt to Emma. Remembering the instructions she had been given earlier, Emma looked up at Joanne. "Thank you, miss, for letting me touch your vagina." They all laughed at that. Emma bent down and kissed each of Joanne's feet, and then stared at the woman's cunt. "Thank you, miss." They laughed again.

Emma found Joanne's clit and darted her tongue over it quickly and repeatedly. At the same time she eased the heel of her shoe into her arsehole and winced. "You can fuck yourself harder than that," someone said roughly, pushed the shoe deeper into her arse.

Trying to avoid further punishment, Emma became a little rougher with herself, moving the heel faster in and out of her arsehole. She ran her tongue over Joanne's clit again and again, trying to make the woman come as soon as possible so that she could end her ordeal.

She plunged her tongue into Joanne, finding a rhythm between the movements of her tongue and the shoe. The other woman moaned and pulled her head closer. Over and over again Emma drove her tongue into Joanne's cunt and the shoe into her own arsehole; until finally the woman moaned her loudest yet and pushed Emma's face deep into her cunt, drenching her with come that dripped down her chest. Emma expected Joanne to let her go, but still the woman held her there. "I didn't tell you to stop, whore."

Emma felt desperate. She had assumed that she would be allowed to stop if she made Joanne come. Now there was no end in sight. Her tongue was aching, her arse hurt, and she just wanted to fall asleep. For what felt like hours she was forced to lap at Joanne's cunt; driving the heel relentlessly into her arsehole; and she was exhausted when Joanne finally pulled on her hair sharply and pushed her head back. Her face was dripping with Joanne's come, but she didn't dare wipe it off. James and William had been easy on her since she arrived, leaving the others to play with her, and for that she wanted to show her gratitude. She knew how much worse things could be if they decided to join in. She wanted to make them proud of her, she realised with some concern. Was she already becoming the thing they wanted her to be?

She forced her mind to be still, and stood in front of Joanne waiting to be dismissed, the come still sticky on her face. After a minute, Joanne looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "What are you still standing there for, whore? I don't want to look at you."

Shortly after that, the party ordered Chinese food and Emma's mouth began to water. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime and the excess of the day, as well as the alcohol she had drunk in the pub, had made her hungry and thirsty. One of the men roughly pushed Emma into the middle of the room and back onto her hands and knees. They spread a towel over her back and rested the cartons on her while they ate. She had to be incredibly still to avoid the cartons from spilling; she dreaded to think what they might do to her if she let that happen. Emma hated Chinese food, but she would have given anything for a plate of it at that point.

They chatted on and ignored her, and when they were all finished, William asked Daniel for a bowl. The host cheerfully got one from the kitchen and handed it to his friend. Emma knew what was coming, but at that moment she didn't care. Yes, she would happily eat slops from a bowl on the floor in front of a crowd of mocking strangers, if it meant she got something to eat.

But William didn't tip any food into the bowl. She looked at it longingly, but he shook his head with a smile. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked her kindly.

"Yes please, master."

"Well, what do we do?"

He wanted her to beg. Fine, she would beg like a dog if that's what it took. She sat up on her knees, keeping her arms behind her back, and whined softly. They laughed delightedly at that. William nodded and tipped a small amount of food into the bowl. Emma made to crawl for it but James put out his hand. "No. Stay. Leave."

She kept her position, and waited. She whined again, but William was having none of it. "You have to earn your supper, little dog. Speak."

They hadn't done this with her, but she had no doubt as to what they wanted her to do. Fighting the rising humiliation, Emma opened her mouth and barked like a dog.

They all laughed again. "Can she roll over and play dead, too?"

William tipped a little more food into her bowl. "Roll over, bitch. Roll over." Emma reluctantly went onto all fours and rolled over onto her back and onto all fours again. "Good dog," said William, patting her head. "Play dead." Emma rolled onto her back, arms and legs hung in the air. "Sit." She rolled back over and sat back on her heels. "Lie down." She lay on her forearms with her face in the carpet. She could smell the food and her stomach ached with hunger.

William tipped the remaining leftovers into the bowl, and patted her arse lightly. She took that as the signal that she was allowed to move, and crawled eagerly over to the bowl. It was filled with bits of chicken, pork, noodles, and other food, with a liberal amount of various sauces poured on top. William knew that she didn't like Chinese food, and was obviously making the most of it, mixing the flavours so that no-one would want to eat it, let alone her.

Without hesitation, Emma plunged her face into the bowl and slurped up as much as she could. It was cold and some of it had been half-chewed and spat back out, but she swallowed it all down. The bowl was deeper than the dog bowl, and she had to get her face right inside to get the dregs at the bottom. Worse still, every time she buried her face in the mess, sauce and bits of food splashed out and onto Daniel's carpet. The lino in James and William's kitchen was bad enough, but a carpet had to be worse. How would she ever get it clean?

When she finally sat back up her face was a mess, now streaked in Chinese food as well as Joanne's come, and the floor around the bowl was covered. James picked the bowl up, shaking his head, and looked over at Daniel apologetically. "I'm so sorry about what she's done to your floor, Dan. She's not exactly a neat eater."

Dan shrugged, ginning slightly. "Don't blame yourself; you can't help her disgusting manners. She'll just have to make up for it later." The way he said that sent shivers down Emma's spine, and she wondered with trepidation what he might have planned. "For now, you can start by cleaning that mess up."

Dutifully, Emma lowered her head to the carpet. She tried to dab at the sauces with the tip of her tongue, but she soon realised that wasn't going to work like it did on the smooth lino back at James and William's house. Feeling miserable and humiliated, Emma stuck her tongue out the whole way, like Lisa had made her do earlier, and dragged her mouth across the fibres. Over and over again she licked at the carpet, her mouth becoming drier with each stroke. She couldn't even see how much longer she had to go, because the carpet was dark and it was difficult to see what was from her dinner and what had been there before. She had no choice but to keep lapping until they were satisfied, and more than once she tasted something that definitely wasn't Chinese food.

Finally they let her up, putting a bowl of water in the corner for her, and ignored her. It was a relief to have something to lessen the dry, unpleasant taste in her mouth, and she almost felt grateful for the drink. She felt sickened by her own malleability. Not long after that, the party started to break up. Emma was sent to get each person's coat when they left, and they all wanted something from her before they finally left. Lisa, who seemed to have it in for her, made her crawl naked to the gate and hold it open with her mouth while Lisa walked through it. Emma had been praying that no-one walked past and saw her.

At last it was just William, James and Daniel left, and William stood up. "We should be making a move too. I'm knackered." Emma wondered how he could be tired when he had done so little all day, but knew better than to show her thoughts in her expression.

They said their goodbyes, and James threw Emma's clothes at her. "Put these on, you look terrible. And you're going to have to leave your shoes here. They stink of your fucking arsehole so we've thrown them out."

He clipped the lead to her collar and led her out into the waiting taxi. It wasn't long before they pulled up at James and William's house, and Emma found herself longing for her cage. She just wanted somewhere to lie down, however uncomfortable.

But she wasn't going to be allowed to just yet. They sank into the sofa and talked about how nice it was to be home at last, while she stood before them and waited. Then they had her describe parts of the night to them in detail, every time asking her if she had enjoyed it, and every time expecting her to say yes. It was like she was living through it all a second time, and hearing her own voice describing the humiliation and degradation she had suffered through was almost worse than experiencing it.