Alan untied me from the uncomfortable position in which I had been held while each of the five men had buggered me, but my freedom was short-lived. He bound my wrists together behind my back once more, but then turned the collar around my neck so that the D ring was at the back and threaded the end of the rope through it, pulling it until my wrists were held between my shoulder blades. The collar, pulled back by the weight of my arms, pressed hard against my windpipe, making my face redden as I struggled for breath.

"I think I'll take my leave at this point," Mr Smith said, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, "I want to thank you for this evening, Alan. In nearly fifty years of an active sex life, I have never done that before, so I have learned something new today - fucking a bound woman in the rear end does have a certain appeal, although I don't think Mrs Smith would appreciate it!" The others laughed at this remark and slapped him on the back as he departed.

So there were only four men left to ‘fuck my brains out’, as Alan had so delicately put it, but they did a pretty good job of it. First, they sandwiched me, Mr Hollander beneath, filling my pussy and, inevitably, Alan behind riding my behind yet again - he really did seem to have an obsession with anal sex! Once they had finished with me, the cop, Steve, and Mr Johnson took over, taking me doggy fashion, the former pounding my cunt, while the latter thrust himself into my throat.

After that, it all became a bit of a blur, with a lot of sucking and fucking going on. By the time they finally ran out of energy and cum, I was utterly exhausted, sore in every orifice, and literally covered in semen from my hair down to my toes. I had lost count of the number of times I had been penetrated and the number of times I had climaxed. When they eventually left me alone, I fell into a fitful doze.

"Wake up, slut, you can't sleep here!" Alan was shaking my shoulder and, when I came to, I found that I had been untied, and the others had left.

"Whu?" I said muzzily, still half asleep, "but it's three in the morning, can't I just stay until morning?"

"No! Now fuck off home!" Alan replied, slapping me hard on the buttock. I got to my feet and, wiping the dried cum out of my eyes, made my way downstairs. After a moment's confusion, I remembered that my clothes were in my rucksack, which I had been instructed to leave by the front gate. I looked around to see if Alan had at least come down to see me leave, but he was nowhere to be seen, and I opened the front door quietly.

It had been a warm summer's day, but the clear sky meant that it was now very cold, and I hugged myself, covering my breasts with my folded arms as I ran down to the gate. I tore at the clasp of the bag with trembling fingers and… Oh my God! There were no clothes in it! Someone had stolen them… or, more likely, removed them purely to add to my discomfort and humiliation! The only things left in the bag were my house keys and a note with the word ‘Haha!’ scribbled on it. Hilarious!

I considered going back to the house, but the door was locked, and if I banged on the door or rang the bell, what could I expect? I was sure that Alan would be angry at being disturbed and would probably hit me and send me away anyway. I suspected that it was him who had taken my clothes anyway, so he was unlikely to give me them back, and if it wasn't him… I decided to stop speculating and just get on with what I knew I had to do. I put the pack on my back and started off down the road towards home.

Five miles, stark naked, in the cold, dark night. As you can imagine, it was a nightmare. I held my breasts to try and keep them warm and also to stop them bouncing when I was able to jog. But my feet, on the cold tarmac, soon became numb, and the cold seeped into my body until everything seemed to be frozen, particularly my fingers, my nose and my buttocks. My teeth were chattering, and I became even more alarmed, as I felt the cold creeping through my pubic hair and starting to chill my pussy lips! I increased my jog to a run, trying to ignore the pain from my breasts and nipples.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of an engine and saw the road around me flooded with light - a car was approaching at speed! In total panic, I turned off the road and threw myself into the undergrowth. It was at that point that I realised that there was a heavy dew that night, and I was lying in thick, wet grass. But I wasn't worrying about that at the time, I was concentrating on the sound of the car's engine slowing down and coming to a halt no more than ten yards from me. I pressed my naked body closer to the ground, trying to hide in the grass.

"I'm sure I saw something," a man's voice rang out in the still air, "maybe it was a deer, but I could have sworn…" I held my breath as I looked back and saw the figure outlined in the headlights take a step towards me.

"Come on, darling," a woman called, "let's get home! I'm sure we can find something better to do than looking for wildlife!" After another excruciatingly long moment of hesitation, I saw him turn back, heard the car door slam, and the car drove away. I finally breathed again, and quickly got out of the damp grass, feeling colder than ever. Disconsolately, I resumed my trek.

When I finally fell into bed, I noticed that clock said 4.15. I was so exhausted, but I couldn't get to sleep because I was still trembling violently from the cold, despite being wrapped in the duvet. It had been the worst night of my life but, as I lay there shivering, I also knew it had been one of the best. With this strange conundrum running through my head, I finally fell asleep.

I was woken by the sound of ringing in my ears. After several moments confusion, I realisde that it was the doorbell, and that somebody was repeatedly ringing it, probably had been for quite a while. I glanced at the clock and saw that it said 7.30, and my immediate thought was ‘why is Alan here at this time in the morning?’ Realising that he would be annoyed to be kept waiting, I crawled out of bed and staggered downstairs.

"Good morning, S-oh!" I started to say before I registered the fact that the person standing in front of me was not the famous actor, but some spotty youth making a delivery! When I saw where he was staring, it occurred to me that I was still naked, and he had a perfect, full frontal view! In a panic, I half closed the door and hid my body behind it.

"I-I have a delivery for you, Miss," the boy stuttered.

"Thanks," I said, holding out my hand to take the package he was clinging on to.

"Er, Mr Finch said I should take it inside, Miss. He was very insistent!" I bet he was, I thought. I opened the door wider, still keeping myself hidden behind it. The boy came in, put the package down on the table, and turned to face me. I let go of the door and put one arm across my nipples, with the other hand covering my pubic area. It was at that point that I remembered that I was still covered in dried cum, some of it making my hair stand up like in ‘There’s Something About Mary’. I started blushing even more furiously.

"Er, the thing is, Miss… he also said I should wait for a tip." I didn't believe this! Alan really wanted to humiliate me, that much was obvious.

"I'm sorry, but as you can see, I don't have any change on me."

"He said that might be the case," the boy said, now also blushing bright red, "but he said you could pay me in kind." After a moment’s confusion, it suddenly dawned on me what was required of me. Finally admitting defeat, I dropped my hands to my sides, exposing myself, and went down on my knees in front of the delivery boy.

He fumbled desperately with the buckle of his belt and, after he repeatedly failed to unfasten it, I took pity on him and reached out to do it myself, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans at the same time. His eager young prick leapt out at me and, as I leaned forward and took it into my mouth, I heard a whimper from above me.

He didn't last long, and his semen was lumpy, like it had been in his balls for a while. As soon as he was done, he pulled up his jeans and, without even fastening them up, he ran out of the door. I should have been outraged at how Alan had manipulated me into that gross act, but instead I found myself smiling as I licked my lips.

I opened the package, and found a note on top of what looked like a very pretty light blue dress. The note said ‘Dress in these clothes, I'll pick you up at 9 AM’. I glanced at the clock and realised that I had less than an hour to get ready! I quickly jumped in the shower and washed away all the crap from the previous night, running the water quite cool to try and wake me up, then quickly dried my hair and applied a little make-up.

I took the dress out of the box and found that, underneath it, were a pair of stockings, a suspender belt, and a pair of high heels in my size. No underwear, I noted as I put on the clothes and slipped the dress on over my head. I barely had time to straighten it and brush my hair before the doorbell rang again. I raced downstairs and opened the door, this time finding Alan standing there.

"Where's your collar?" he immediately demanded, looking angry.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, I thought we were-"

"Go and put it on," he ordered, "and be quick about it, we've got a train to catch!" I rushed back upstairs, and grabbed the collar, fumbling with it as I raced back downstairs. Alan waited until I had it properly fastened, before turning on his heel and leading me to his car.

"I have an important meeting with a producer this morning," he said, almost conversationally as he drove along, "I thought it might be interesting to take you along."

"Oh, thank you, Alan-I mean, Sir," I gushed, excited at the thought that he might now be introducing me into other parts of his life, beyond just the sex.

We pulled into the station car park and went on to the platform to wait for the train to London. When it arrived, Alan handed me my ticket, then went towards the first-class carriages and I followed him as we stepped up through the door.

"Wait here," he said, indicating that I should stay in the gangway between carriages, while he went in and took a seat.

I assumed that he was going to find a seat for us and then come back to get me, but the train left the station and was soon travelling at maximum speed towards its next stop. Bracing myself against the wall to counteract the sway of the train, I looked down at my ticket, and saw that it was standard class, whereas Alan had gone into the first-class compartment. Once again, it took a few moments for the penny to drop, but eventually I realised that I had, once more, been deliberately humiliated. I was to stand here during the hour-long journey like some second-class citizen, while I could see Alan enjoying the complimentary drinks and snacks, relaxing and reading the paper!

I stood there awkwardly, and my hand drifted up to my neck. I had forgotten that I was wearing the collar, and the thought of all the people who had seen me in it, and would see me wearing it during the day, made me blush in anticipated embarrassment. How could I put up with this, I wondered, this constant humiliation? And I came back to the same two answers - the first was that I would put up with anything that Alan wished, because I loved him. The second? That was evidenced by the moisture on the tops of my thighs and by the constant itch between my legs.

We had been travelling about ten minutes when I saw him walking towards me. Without a word, he took me by the arm and hustled me across the corridor, pushing me into the toilet, squeezing in with me and locking the door.

"Get on your knees," he barked, "you know what to do." Feeling the tears well in my eyes, I sank down onto the filthy floor, pulling the hem of my dress up to keep it clean, and provided him with the oral relief he required. I carefully sucked down every drop of his cum so that I didn't get any on my dress, and then watched forlornly as he zipped up and left without saying anything. I scrambled back to my feet and exited the cubicle, just as a man came along to use it. I went back to my position on the other side of the corridor, and tried to ignore the curious look the man gave me when he had finished.

When we reached London, we took a cab across town and went into a large office block, ascending to the top floor in the lift. We entered a large, open plan office and approached the desk of a very attractive young woman, who looked up and smiled at Alan.

"Hi, Mr Finch, how you this morning?" she said, enthusiastically, "can I get you a coffee or anything?" Somehow, I wasn't surprised that she completely ignored me.

"Hey, Fiona," he replied with a smile, "I'm good! Is your boss in?"

"I'll just check," Fiona said, swinging her hips over to the office door behind her. She put her head inside and I couldn't overhear what she said, but she returned with a smile and nod in Alan’s direction.

"Excellent!" he said, before turning to me, "okay, take your dress off, Valerie."

"W-What?!" I exclaimed in shock. I noticed that the woman did not look up from the work in front of her, which suddenly seemed to be very engrossing.

"Didn't you hear me, Valerie?" Alan said evenly, but the look on his face told me exactly what he was thinking. I locked eyes with him, mine pleading for mercy, his demanding obedience. After only a moment, I dropped my gaze in defeat, and slowly pulled the dress over my head. When I emerged from underneath it, Fiona was by my side, a broad grin on her face and her hand held out. Reluctantly, I put the dress over her arm and watched as she returned to her desk, stuffing the garment into a drawer. Alan beckoned me forwards, and I approached the door with him.

"When you go into the office," he said quietly but firmly, "keep your eyes on the floor and get down on your knees. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I murmured as he turned the handle and went in. I followed, eyes down, and sank to my knees as soon as I had cleared the door. I heard girlish sniggering from behind me, and then the door closed.

"Alan, darling, how are you?" I heard, and was shocked that it was a woman's voice! Alan moved past me, and I risked looking up, seeing him embrace and air kiss a fortysomething woman in a very expensive suit.

"Verity! You're looking so well! And as beautiful as ever!" Alan exclaimed as he held the woman at arm’s length.

"Oh, Alan!" the woman twittered coquettishly, "you're such an old charmer! But as I always say, flattery will get you everywhere! Let me get you a drink - Scotch, neat, right?"

"You know me so well, Verity," he smiled, moving over to the large sofa on the far side of the office, while she poured two glasses of liquor from a cut glass decanter, before carrying them over, and sitting next to him. With that, I looked down at the floor again and listened as they chatted, talking about nothing in particular, just catching up, completely ignoring me. It must've been a good ten minutes before Verity turned to look at me.

"Now, what have you brought me, you naughty boy?"

"I know your particular preferences, Verity," Alan said smoothly, "and I thought this little thing might pique your interest, provide a little entertainment for you." Yet another new humiliation, I thought - they were talking about me as if I wasn't there, using me as a bargaining chip in their negotiations. I was nothing more to them than, as Alan said, a ‘little entertainment’ and, while it hurt that Alan thought so little of me, I also found it strangely arousing to be treated as nothing more than a sex toy.

"That's so thoughtful of you, Alan," Verity responded, "is she trained?"

"No, she's a novice really," Alan confessed, "but she's willing. She'll do anything I tell her to."

"Excellent," the producer said, "I prefer fresh meat! And by the time she leaves, she'll do anything I tell her to as well." I glanced up and saw the smile on her face, one tinged with cruelty.

"Now, about that part we were discussing…" Alan started, but the older woman lay a manicured finger against his lips.

"Darling, don't worry about that," she cooed, "the part’s yours, I always liked you for it, you didn't need to bring me this little gift. However, now she's here, it would be remiss to not take advantage of her. You!" I realised she was addressing me for the first time. "Come over here and kiss my feet. No, don't get up, on your hands and knees."

I crawled across the room towards her, feeling totally demeaned by that act, then bent down. I wasn't sure if she meant for me to kiss her shoes, or take her shoes off and kiss her feet, but decided on the former, and tentatively pursed my lips and pressed them against the patent leather surface.

"That's good," she said, before turning her foot up and showing me the sole of the shoe. "Now lick the sole clean."

I glanced up at her, not quite believing that she would ask me to do that, but her face was unsmiling, implacable. Reluctantly, I stuck out my tongue and ran it across the scuffed leather. The shoe was relatively clean, and all I encountered was dust and carpet fibres, which was unpleasant, but manageable. But when she switched, re-crossing her legs so that I could do the same to the other shoe, I saw that she had stood in something unpleasant, although it was difficult to tell what.

I looked up again, hoping that she might relent, but a sly smile had crept across her face - she knew this shoe was dirty, and she was enjoying my discomfort. Once again, I gave in and licked the sole of her shoe. I was relieved that it wasn't dog mess, but I didn't want to think too hard about the disgusting taste, and I closed my eyes as I proceeded to scour away the filth.

"Well done for not complaining, little one," she purred, "now take off my shoes and kiss my feet."

I did as she ordered, and started planting gentle kisses on her stocking-clad feet.

"No, not like that!" she barked angrily, "make love to them with your mouth, like you would if you had your Master’s cock in there!"

I began to suck on her toes, one by one, flicking my tongue around them as I would the glans of a penis, then licking between the toes and tickling the soles of her feet with my outstretched tongue.

"Mmm, very good," she said after several minutes, "you must really like fucking that mouth, Alan. Now, let's get to the main course, shall we?"

She stood up and stripped out of her business suit until she stood naked. Despite being the wrong side of forty, her body was in great shape and she certainly had no hangups about showing it off. She knelt on the sofa, her legs astride Alan, and kissed him passionately on the mouth while his hand came up to caress her breasts.

"You!" she called over her shoulder, "get up here and lick my arse!" While it sounds quite disgusting, and I was also thinking that at the time, I was already very aroused at watching the two of them kissing and groping each other, as well as by being forced to lick her feet, and I clambered up onto the sofa eagerly.

I put my hands on her buttocks and parted them, revealing her puckered little bud, and pushed my face into the cleft, sticking out of my tongue and coating the whole area with my saliva.

"Stick your tongue in, slut!" Verity urged, pushing her cheeks back into my face, "push it in as far as you can!" Without any hesitation, I followed her command, tensing the muscles in my tongue and pressing the tip of it against her tight sphincter. Her ring put up stiff resistance, and I focused all my efforts into penetrating it, imagining my tongue as if it were a penis, trying to violate the woman. This made me even hotter, making me strive much harder, and ignore the pain starting to affect the base of my tongue. At last, I felt the resistance lessen and I slid into her, eliciting a gasp and a moan of pleasure. I felt elation at this success, rather than revulsion at the taste, and I continued to press forward, delving as deep as I could.

"That's fucking amazing!" the woman moaned as she continued to push her rear end onto me. My tongue quickly began to ache, but I didn't care, I was in some kind of zone where it seemed I would do anything, no matter how revolting.

After a few minutes, she suddenly pushed me away, then flipped herself from straddling Alan to sitting on the sofa with her legs spread wide.

"Eat my pussy, slut!" she growled, "eat it, I said!"

I had never performed cunnilingus before, and only rarely experienced it, but I had a pretty good idea of what would provide the greatest arousal. I placed my hands either side of her slit and gently opened her up like a flower. I teased and tantalised her with my tongue, running it over every inch of her glistening, sensitive skin, dancing on the edge of her vagina before diving inside, my lips pressed against her while I reached for her most sensitive spot. I kept this up until she was writhing beneath me, her fingers in my hair, alternately gripping and splaying as the sensations ran through her body.

I felt a rush of power and pleasure at making her lose control like this, in the same way as I had when giving a good blowjob to a man, and I wanted to make it last forever. I heard noises from above me and, snatching a glance, I saw that Alan had stripped as well, and was now kneeling on the couch astride his producer, his cock deep in her throat. The sight of them drove me on, and I began to suck on her clitoris, flicking it with my tongue as if it were a tiny cock which, I guess, it was.

Verity's orgasm was impressive when she came. Her hips bucked underneath me, forcing me to hold onto her as I used my tongue to penetrate her, just as I had done with her anus. I think the rest of her body was also trying to flail around, but Alan was pinning her down. Suddenly, a gush of her juices flowed down her vagina and into my mouth, and I lapped them up greedily, just as I would a man’s cum. Her cries in the moment of ecstasy were stifled by the cock in her mouth, and she was soon occupied in swallowing Alan’s cum instead.

"That was… incredible!" Verity sighed when she had recovered. I had resumed my kneeling position, in front of them while they sat on the sofa, contemplating me.

"Your slut is, as you said, very willing," the naked woman said, "I think I'd like to test her, if that's all right with you?" I saw Alan smile and nod, giving his approval to whatever she had in mind. She stood up and went over to her desk, taking several coils of rope from a drawer and tossing them to Alan.

"Tie her across the table for me, would you, darling?"

"Of course," Alan replied casually, "which way up do you want her?"

"Face up, please," Verity replied, walking over to what looked like a built-in wardrobe, "I want her to see what's coming."

Alan led me over to a small, glass-topped coffee table and made me lie down over it. The table was big enough to support me from my shoulders down to my knees, so my head hung over one end, my legs the other. I watched as he tied my wrists to the bottom of the front table legs and my elbows at the top, then repeated on my legs, tying them at ankles and just below the knee to the outside of the table so that my legs were spread wide. There was more rope, and he used it to bind my breasts at the base so that they looked like small balloons stuck onto my chest, red balloons as they quickly flushed with engorged blood.

"Nice job," Verity said as she stood over me. She had dressed in a shiny black corset which didn't cover her breasts or her pussy, and thigh high boots, also shiny and black. She also wore black gloves, which extended above her elbows, and in one hand she was holding what I thought of as a cat-o-nine-tails from a pirate movie, but I now know is referred to as a flogger. Whatever you call it, it scared the shit out of me!

"Oh, look," she said with mock sympathy as she knelt down by my legs, "the poor thing’s scared! Don't worry, little slut, you get some pleasure as well."

As she said this, I felt her gloved fingers delve into my wet pussy, toying with my clitoris, making me let out a moan of pleasure. But, moments later, my cries of ecstasy were stifled by Alan, thrusting his cock into my open mouth. I sucked on it greedily as I felt the fingers push into my vagina, pressing at my G-spot, that oh-so-sensitive place, driving me wild. I pulled against the ropes holding me, but could make no significant movement, all I could do was lie there and take it.

Alan thrust deep into my throat, while at the same time, I felt myself being filled by three, then four fingers, all wriggling within me. I tried to let out a cry of alarm as I felt the thumb force its way inside me, but I couldn't breathe, never mind cry out. Discomfort turned to pain as the entire hand pushed into me, and my muffled screams rang around the office. I pulled frantically at my bonds, but it was as useless as before. Unbelievably, I felt the hand inside me form a fist and push even deeper. The pain was excruciating, but I suddenly exploded in the most incredible orgasm! At that moment, Alan filled my mouth with his seed, which I struggled to swallow, positioned as I was, and the excess ran out of the corners of my mouth and into my hair. But all my focus was on the fist inside me, moving up and down, causing after-shocks of the orgasm to rip through my body.

At last the hand was removed, and I felt suddenly empty. I managed to raise my head and look down my body at Verity as she held out her dripping glove before my face. Knowing what she expected, I licked my juices from the latex.

"So, that was your pleasure," she said as she stood up and picked up the flogger, "now for the pain!"

I watched in horror as she raised her arm and then brought it down at great speed, the many leather fronds slapping loudly against my skin. There was a second of eerie silence and then, when the pain across my breasts and upper chest hit my brain, I screamed at the top of my voice. With my mouth no longer occupied, the shriek echoed back off the walls. I drew in a deep breath and looked up at Verity, fear rising within me as I saw the look of hatred on her face as she pulled back her arm once more.

I screamed incessantly as the blows rained down, first across my breasts, and then anywhere on my body. I felt the leather bite into the soft skin of my thighs. Tears were pouring down my cheeks, and I begged for mercy in an incoherent gibberish, but there was no respite from the attack. I heard an evil cackle come from my tormentor of, and I feared that she was in some kind of frenzy, so excited by making me suffer that she couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. She changed her stance slightly and my screams became even more frantic as the flogger came down between my legs, directly onto my pussy. I was in extreme agony by now, and had lost all control of my body, feeling only the burning sensation ripping across my skin as the whipping continued.

I was still crying and screaming when I realised that the attack had stopped. I managed to raise my head and, through my tears, I could see that Alan was standing in front of Verity, holding her whip arm and preventing her from hitting me again.

"Enough!" he growled, staring into her face, twisted with hate.

"What's wrong?" she spat, contempt in her voice, "do you have feelings for this worthless cunt?"

"No, but I don't want her damaged too badly either," he replied, taking the flogger from her hand. "Fiona!" The young assistant came into the office, looking at Alan questioningly.

"Sort her out, will you, please," he said, pointing at my prone body, "treat those lashes, untie her, and help her get dressed."

"Yes, Mr Finch," she replied, showing no surprise that my naked body was tied to the table and covered in ugly red welts. She rubbed some cream onto them, which made me cry and sob in pain, but did gradually dull it to a throbbing ache. She released me and helped me up, before slipping the dress over my head.

"I hope we're still friends, Alan," Verity said in a wheedling tone of voice. I looked over and saw that they had both got dressed, and that she was pressing herself against his chest.

"Of course we are, darling," he replied, smiling down into her upturned face, "we'd never let a slut like this come between us! Now, remember to send me the script for that part, won't you?"

"No problem, my sweet," she cooed from the door as we walked out of the office and towards the lifts. "Come into my office, Fiona, and bring the crop!" The last thing I saw before the lift door closed was the young woman heading for the office with the punishment implement in one hand, as she pulled off her blouse.

The journey back home was identical to the earlier trip except that, when Alan pulled me into the toilet, he made me bend over and hold on to the toilet bowl, while he fucked me from behind. I tried to stifle my sobs and cries at the pain in my pussy from the beating it had received, but I still reached my orgasm as he pumped me full of his semen. For the rest of the journey, I had to occasionally lift up my skirt and scrape away the cum , which had dribbled down my thighs, sucking it off my fingers afterwards.

Eventually we reached home, and Alan dropped me at my house, not bothering to speak to me or thank me for helping him out. As I leaned back against the closed front door, I thought about the events of the day, and came to an unlikely conclusion.

Despite his appalling treatment of me, I now knew that, at some level, Alan cared about me! Why else would he stop that awful woman from whipping me? He had risked her annoyance, and the possibility that she would spitefully withhold the part that he so wanted, to save me! Maybe, I thought, there was a chance that those feelings would grow into love…