I barely slept that night, so immense was the throbbing pain in my crotch, coupled with the sheer and constant desperation to consume the entire bowl of cum that had been cruelly taken away from me. I watched the clock tick towards the morning, needing it more than anything I’d ever needed in my life. The chastity belt had been secured back in place once the agonising evening session finally came to an end. I’d only managed to hold out for 42 seconds on the third round of frantic and intense licking-- which of course I’d pleaded with her to do to me-- though I’d tried everything in my power to resist for longer. It was shocking how effortlessly she could make me climax, especially as tortured as my fuck hole now was-- or perhaps even because of that.

Morning did eventually come, and after a little while Rebecca slipped out to the kitchen in her slippers and cosy pyjamas and returned with the bowl as promised. My eyes widened in absolute delight, despite everything that was happening to me I seemingly couldn’t have been happier in that particular moment. But then Rebecca slipped off her pyjama bottoms, placed the bowl on the floor and stooped over it. After a moments hesitation she suddenly began to relieve herself into the bowl, her warm pee mixing with the existing foul contents, and bringing the level back up to half-way by the time she finished up. Pulling up her pyjamas again, she brought the bowl over to where I was perched up on the bed, a flimsy pink mostly-see-through baby-doll adorning my pert figure above the waistline of the secured chastity belt; collar and leash still affixed; with towering spiked heels found mounted to my feet even during bedtime. She spat in the bowl a few times, really trying to collect enough saliva to make it worthwhile, then sat herself besides me.

“Do you still want to lick all of this up, Naughty?”

I felt the first shock to my excessively-punished cunt as this new shame caught up with me. Nothing had changed, I still needed to devour and lick up every last drop of whatever was in that bowl in order to satisfy the original instruction. I would to all the world appear absolutely desperate to guzzle it down, but beneath that it would be one of the most shameful acts thus far, a mind fuck unlike any other. The shocks to my cunt continued, the torture of my pussy just never seeming to end.

“Yes! Absolutely! I want to lick it up so fucking bad!”

“Hmm, I made you wait so long, didn’t I?” She got off the bed and started to undress, before slipping into some underwear. In turn she then clothed herself, before reaching for the handle to my leash.

“I think you can wait a little longer. Pick up the bowl, Naughty, we’re going for a walk.”

The shocks increased in frequency, my shame escalating. I was still dressed in my bed-wear, breasts almost completely visible through the thin fabric. And she wanted me to carry around the bowl of assorted filth that clearly still looked like thinned-out cum. She pulled on the leash and any opposition I felt inside had no means of being communicated-- no way to be anything but completely subservient to her requests; no means of even going where I wanted to go since my legs would adamantly refuse to acquiesce unless the leash holder was already directing me.

And so outside we went, myself pulled along on the ridiculous heels, my sheer lingerie and chastity belt providing endless glances and comments as we made our way through the streets. The belt was shocking me throughout, my thoughts focused on my shame, and still I absolutely craved the filth in the bowl I carried with me. Having it so close was pure torture. After probably 15 minutes of public indecency on a whole new level, she led me into what seemed to be a tattoo parlour. A rising fear drove the belt to shock me at a greater pace, and despite some extremely curious looks from the people inside, it quickly became apparent that I was to receive a body decoration of some kind.

“Now, before I’m going to let you eat that up, I want you to get a tattoo for me,” she said as we sat in the waiting area, “So don’t be startled, Naughty, but I want you to get one that says ‘cum slut’ in really big letters on the small of your back.”

I couldn’t actually say anything, and the pain in my crotch was becoming too great to even think coherently anyway. Electric shocks to the pussy weren’t a lot of fun in the first place, but shocks to a freshly-caned one were far worse than that.

And so that’s what happened. Unable to really object nor run away, I ended up face-forward on the table as the tattooist applied the relevant lettering across my lower back, just above where the chastity belt lay. It was doubly embarrassing to be positioned like that for so long in such a public place since the round cutout in the belt surrounding my asshole was perfectly visible to all. After an hour of this public debasement, I finally rose and was provided with a mirror to see the results of the artists work. When I finally caught sight of my new tattoo I felt so miserable that I wanted to scream-- the letters were so large that they could be read from the other side of the street, and now they would be emblazoned in my very skin for all time. But still, despite all of this, I was somehow still absolutely ravishing for the contents of the bowl to be put in my mouth. I kept being told to wait, and all that did was make me feel more dreadful each time it happened. Before we left, whilst surrounded by other customers awaiting their turns, Rebecca turned to me and gestured to the bowl.

“You’ve earned a spoonful of cum from your bowl, I think. Go ahead.” She said loudly, before handing me the spoon in order to do as I was told. This was truly mortifying, because my eagerness was plain to see to the busy waiting room, and I scooped up a load far too hastily, put it in my mouth and swallowed it down. I don’t think the customers really knew what to think, and thankfully Rebecca then led me outside anyway. On the one hand I was so happy to have started to consume the disgusting concoction, but on the other I remained as desperate as ever to finish it all off. And everything about the day so far was so incredibly humiliating that the belt simply would not let up with its incessant shocking of my cunt. And that was when I very publicly started to tremble in anticipation of a now-familiar sensation, the belt-induced shame-gasm biting into me as I tried not to topple on my dangerously-high heels. Rebecca didn’t even wait for me to finish before yanking me along again, the piercing tremors of pain emanating from my crotch continuing for nearly a minute as we made our way to wherever our next destination happened to be. Almost immediately afterwards the shocks resumed again, and I looked at the bowl in my hands with a demeaning kind of hunger that remained wholly unfulfilled-- the excitement that accompanied the eating of that first load now completely forgotten, to be replaced only with the foul taste of a mixture of cum and piss in my mouth instead.

Everywhere I went I got disparaging glances, until eventually she led me into what looked like a pub of some kind, down a little alleyway. As soon as we went inside the previously-rowdy voices within quieted down, literally everyone looking over at this kinky little thing and her apparent mistress. Rebecca led me over to a table, sat me down and left the leash unattended as she walked off to another table. All of the men in the pub were eyeing me up hungrily, since virtually everything was on show, after all-- and I had no means of covering myself up. And I was Instagram-hot, so it was hardly surprising. After a minute or two, Rebecca came back with several men from another table, and they sat down around me, not even trying to hide their roaming eyes.

One of them eventually spoke. “We’re big fans. Really big fans of the pair of you.”

I looked at Rebecca incredulously, panic setting in-- she had said that she would be loaning me out virtually every day from then on. Had she actually meant that? And was it already time for the next one? There were five of them all told, and they seemed like rough-and-ready types. Which one would be getting to play with me? The belt scolded my cunt harshly, and I felt like another shame-gasm was building up again.

“Here’s the plan, Naughty. Each of these fine gentlemen will be taking you to a bathroom stall for ten minutes at a time, and when you come back you get to finish down one-fifth of what’s in the bowl-- and everyone here knows exactly what’s in the bowl-- so it’ll all be gone after the fifth bathroom visit. Doesn’t that sound great?”

With that, she casually offered my leash to one of the men, and the belt abruptly shocked me right to the anticipated shame-gasm. They all watched deliriously as my body trembled with the passing of acute and rippling pain, my feet curling in their towering heels. Without further delay, the first man led me to the bathroom, and the shocks continued right away. Once in the indicated toilet stall, he thrust me up against one wall, excited hands wandering over my breasts and ass, before flipping me around to face away from him, hands unzipping himself as quickly as he could. Moments later he pressed his shaft against my encircled rear before ramming it inside, pressing me up against the wall as he began the rhythmic motion, thrusting into my ass as hard as he could, roughly penetrating me as he sought to get his ten minutes worth of action. After long minutes of this treatment, he eventually pulled out and twirled me around, dragging me down low enough to shove his cock into my complaint mouth. Following another minute of this he finally shot his load into my mouth, and I instinctively swallowed. The incessantly rising tempo of the belt finally shocked me to another shame-gasm as he finished-- making it a total of three very public ‘orgasms’ since we’d left the house,-- leaving me quivering and incoherent as he dressed himself and started to lead me back out to the main room. The ongoing nonchalance for when I was barely able to stand let alone be walked around was astonishing, and so very humiliating.

The rest of that morning was a bit of a blur. Rebecca allowed me to spoon up around a fifth of the contents of the bowl in full view of everyone. I couldn’t help but be happy beyond measure as I finally got to start working through it, and she encouraged me to lap it up faster, downing load after load in front of them all. I could feel another fucked-up orgasm take hold as I reached fifty or so mouthfuls. My mouth was lathered in filth, and it tasted thoroughly disgusting. It was all so depraved. They cheered as my fake orgasm finally burst through, and it seemed to coincide with the second gentleman then leading me away to the bathroom, my legs still numb from the after-effects. Ten minutes later we re-emerged, my ass freshly sore, and the spoon was eagerly placed in my tender hand. The shame-gasm’s continued to rise in frequency, such was my utter humiliation at all times, and eventually-- after the fifth guy had fucked my ass as hard as he could before leading me back to the table, I finally got to swallow down the last of the bowl of filth. Rebecca watched intently as I licked down the inner surface, ready to urge me to continue if she saw any that I’d missed. The gaping hole in my world didn’t fade away until I was positive that it was spotless, and then the reality of how much cum I’d just lapped up in front of all of them really set in. The hunger had completely passed by now, and the taste of cum felt like the only thing that existed, so strong and pungent it was, even mixed together with Rebecca’s pee. The men all cheered in unison as I once more had a humiliating shame-gasm right in front of them. That made around twenty in total.

It didn’t feel like there was anything left to torment with me. They had completely broken me. Rebecca had broken me. I could no longer think straight at all-- the shocks to my cunt maintained that. I had been used by multiple men like a sex object, uncaring as they made use of my ass and mouth. I had been paraded around virtually-naked in public, and laughed at as I had the most humiliating ‘orgasms’ that were anything but pleasurable. I had eaten so much cum that it was all that I could taste, along with piss and spit and even the taste of my own ass. I punished my own cunt without mercy, and begged for things that I most definitely did not want to happen.

The men filtered away, leaving only Rebecca and myself at the table, before another gentlemen eventually came over to join us. Taking my leash in hand, Rebecca pulled me up from the seat and moved around behind me. The next thing I knew was that my chastity belt had been unfastened, and was removed from around my crotch. I tried not to notice how bruised and laced with cane strikes it all was as my cunt became very visible to anyone who glanced over. Rebecca then let me return to the seat.

“I think you’ve earned a good fuck, Naughty, wouldn’t you agree? And I don’t mean all that nasty ass fucking you’ve been getting. I mean a good old-fashioned cock-inside-your-pussy kind of fucking.”

I looked at the man and he returned my gaze with a sly smile. Okay, maybe there was still things to torment me with, because I couldn’t help but want what she was offering, I just didn’t want the actual implications-- I didn’t just want to fuck a random stranger in a pub.

Rebecca could probably read my apprehension. “Why don’t you beg this kind gentleman to let you ride his cock right here and now.”

And there it was. In mere minutes I would be pleading passionately to do exactly what she said. I was going to fuck this complete stranger right here on his lap once they finally let me.

“Actually,” she added, “Beg this kind gentleman to let you vigorously ride his cock, but only until you’re on the very edge of orgasm, when you will want to lift off and deny yourself that pleasure.”

That made me whimper to myself, since it was so typically cruel. I begged as directed, meekly at first and then with more yearning as the stark discomfort set in. Minutes later I was inconsolable.

“Oh, fuck, please let me ride your cock really hard until I have to edge myself! I’ll fuck it so good. I’m such a good fucking slut.”

Rebecca had kept nudging me to address myself as a slut in front of him, and I couldn’t help myself leaning into it.

“Please let this dirty little slut ride your cock as hard as possible until I have to edge myself! Pretty please let me, please! I’m such a fucking slut, and I need it.”

Only after five minutes of this mortifying begging did the man finally unzip himself and tell me to go ahead. I climbed on top of his lap and eagerly fed his erect penis into my bruised hole. It was like a year or more since I’d been fucked in there, and I was instantly over-excited as I thrust myself down onto him. I rode him like the best of pornstars, all the way down the shaft, my cunt slick with juices and aroused beyond measure. I hadn’t even really noticed that Rebecca had got out her phone and had a timer running as I fucked him as hard as I could.

“Keep saying ‘I’m such a fucking slut’ while you ride him,” Rebecca suddenly urged.

“I’m such a fucking slut.. I’m such a fucking slut” I repeated over and over as I fucked his cock, my battered cunt still more than happy to embrace pleasure when it was offered. I felt the climax fast approaching, and knew what that would mean, swiftly bringing an end to this remarkably gratifying experience. It didn’t seem to matter that I didn’t know the man, the cock that he offered me was driving me wild regardless. Many of the customers in the pub had vanished by this point, perhaps unable to just watch as people noisily fuck in one corner of the room. I was riding him so good, and my cunt felt as good as when Rebecca licked me, ever tender and easily aroused.

“I’m such a fucking slut.. I’m such a fucking slut” The words weren’t helping, because I almost felt like I was just that. I reached the very edge of orgasm and suddenly stopped riding, lifting myself up and denying myself that sweet climax just as anticipated. I whimpered in exasperation, and the man just smiled at me.

“56 seconds, Naughty. Let’s remember that number for later. For now, beg this kind gentleman to let you vigorously ride his cock again, but only until you’re on the very edge of orgasm for a second time, when you intend to rise off and deny yourself that pleasure.”

And so this continued, routinely having me beg and plead to ride his cock until I certainly sounded desperate. Only then would they let me sit down on his shaft and ride it as hard and fast as I could. Rebecca would insist that I repeatedly declare what a fucking slut I was as I fucked him, and since she continued to time how long it took for me to edge myself so cruelly, I found that I was only getting worse with each fucking. After the fourth such humiliating episode, I had denied myself at only 27 seconds into it. Rebecca made sure to record these numbers, for whatever punishment she probably had in mind later. I really hoped it wasn’t more caning, because these times were beyond brutal. I was clearly far too overstimulated by the seventh attempt, managing only 14 seconds of aggressive riding before edging myself once more-- a running total of seven delicious orgasms savagely denied. At this point, Rebecca somewhat relented, realising that I could barely maintain my composure any more.

“Okay, Naughty, since you keep getting too excited, it’s time to beg to suck this nice gentleman off until he cums in your mouth, but only until after you’ve edged him to the brink of orgasm seven times beforehand. Let’s see how talented you are with that pretty mouth of yours.”

The inevitable foreplay was next, waiting until I was desperate enough to truly beg for it. Eventually my choice of words was sufficiently filthy and imploring and I was fed to my knees to start sucking his cock from below, somewhat level with the table itself.

“By the way, it’s a bit of a race. You were edged seven times, and you’ll edge him seven times. I expect you to edge his cock faster than he edged your cunt. If you fail then you’ll be going right back to the tattoo parlour to get another vulgar slur of what you are added to your skin.

And with that I was already sucking him off, and suddenly it was quite urgent that I work quickly to get him to climax over and over. The time pressure was horrendous; my own timings between edges were so fucking low. I tried to do a great job using only my mouth, it seemed that hands were off-limits, and after what felt like forever I finally did get him to announce how close he was, my tongue working whatever magic I could think of to get him there quickly. He pushed me off the shaft, and Rebecca had clearly paused the timer whilst he was allowed a chance for the climax to fade back down. After thirty seconds he pulled my head back onto him and left me to deal with the rest. Over and over I edged his cock with my mouth, trying not to think about how I was so deliberately pleasuring the cock of a complete stranger, driven on by some fucked-up competition that would only barely uphold some small sliver of dignity if I won.

At felt like an eternity before he finally erupted in my mouth, his cock throbbing after such a prolonged edging. I swallowed his warm load without needing to be prompted, and only then felt the freedom of an instruction concluded. I hated that I had been made to put so much enthusiasm into sucking this random guy off. I really did feel like a slut, even know I should’ve known that I wasn’t really responsible for any of this. I was being manipulated at every turn. Rebecca shook her head as I glanced at her, my efforts completely wasted. I felt so ashamed of myself. A sick part of me wanted to give myself a shame-gasm, since that was all that I was allowed, and it did give me something to cling to, even if it was fucked-up and really disturbing that I only got to ‘orgasm’ that way.

“What would you like her new tattoo to say?” she asked the man as he bundled his cock back into his jeans.

“Hmm-- ‘fuck puppet’, yeah. Somewhere below her belly button, maybe?”

That sounded terrible, but I knew there was nothing I would be able to do about it-- and I already had ‘cum slut’ on my back, after all. And then the man left, to be quickly replaced by a second gentleman. Fuck.

“Okay, Naughty,” Rebecca started absently-mindedly, whilst seemingly reading out the words off of her phone, “beg this kind gentleman to let you vigorously ride his cock, but only until you’re on the very edge of orgasm, when you will want to lift off and deny yourself that pleasure.

I ended up with four new tattoos that day, and every part of me feeling entirely abused. The following days all featured me being handed over to complete strangers for them to have their way with me on their own beds. Now that the belt could shock me to a painful shame-gasm I seemed to have them all of the time. It had become something of a coping mechanism or some such, coursing through me whenever I felt significantly used. All of the men made me beg to be fucked in the ass until my throat hurt with the effort, and they all made me repeat ‘I’m such a fucking slut’ as they pounded into me afterwards. I always wore nothing but flimsy bed wear regardless of where I was-- the leash, belt and high heels a permanent fixture of my new uniform. Everything hurt. Rebecca made me beg to eat up an entire bowl of spunk each and every day, and to lick the bowl clean afterwards. She always made me wait an entire day until I was allowed to actually perform this activity-- until I was absolutely ravishing for it, and then she would make me beg to lick up the next bowl almost immediately afterwards, which again, she would make me wait an entire day to get to do. Thus I would be perpetually desperate to slurp down an entire bowl of filth-- probably upwards of 500 loads at a time. A week later she made me beg to let me use my mouth to be pissed in directly rather than slurp it from a bowl, and soon enough she was using me as toilet, which never failed to drive me to a humiliating shame-gasm-- driven on by the highly-active shock device around my crotch. We continued to share evenings filled with her licking my brutalised cunt to the very edge of orgasm, leaving me to cane myself harshly for the bulk of the remaining 10 minutes afterwards. She didn’t even stick around to watch me punish myself, only coming back for the minute or two that it took to over-excite my cunt with her tongue, before walking out of the room again.

At some point, the accursed ‘box’ arrived. Affixed to the floor with bulky screws in a small cupboard off the main bedroom, Rebecca led me to it one day, and showed how one half would swing open on its hinge like a suitcase stood on its shortest side. There were a number of latches and padlocks at the barrier between the two sections-- or the door of sorts. The overall volume was pretty small, just enough for a person to have a little breathing room but not be able to stand. It would be awkward for most people to fit.

Rebecca then turned to me and said simply “Beg to be allowed to go inside the box, Naughty.” She then turned away and started doing something in the adjoining bedroom as she waited for my pleading to grow frantic enough. I was horrified at the thought of going inside this really too-small case, but I already knew that I would feel utterly distraught until she let me do just that. She waited five minutes before she felt I was genuine enough with my appealing, and that I really desperately wanted to be shut inside the box-- coming back to the cupboard to take my leash in hand.

“Okay, Naughty-- in you go. I hope you enjoy yourself. I’m going to get a good fuck whilst you’re in there, so it might have to be an hour or two.”

I sank to my knees and started to crawl inside, her hand guiding the leash far enough for me to make that effort. I tried to sit on my bottom, knees bunched up, my brutal heels taking up precious space. There was a little handle for the end of the leash to be placed, and she deposited it there once I was most of the way inside. Even as I was trying to adjust myself, Rebecca was already closing the door section, and the latches closed in turn. There was the sound of a key in a lock or two, and then I was completely alone in the dark of that tiny environment. An hour or two felt like such a long time. I was already feeling cramped and irritable. There was very little room for me to move my arms around, and certain places I just wouldn’t be able to itch if I later needed to.

The hours really were unbearable. It was kind of the opposite of shameful, being so hidden from view-- so my pussy was mercilessly calm and the shocks abated, and there was nothing for me to really do or focus on. I could only reflect on what had happened to me of late, and to re-live every little abuse that Rebecca had put me through up until then. The box even seemed to be sound-proofed, because I couldn’t hear anything at all. If Rebecca was having sex in the room next-door then I certainly couldn’t make out anything at all. And so I ended up straining to hear something, anything, that told me that Rebecca was still out there.

Eventually I did feel something akin to tremors nearby that suggested footsteps, and then the jumble of keys in locks, and latches clicking open, and then suddenly daylight. It was almost blinding, and I squinted to make out Rebecca as she loomed over me.

“I need a wee, Naughty-- beg to be used as a toilet.” she almost hurriedly said long before I could adequately adjust to the brightness of the light. Looking past her as I eventually did, I could see the naked legs of a man on our bed that suggested that she did indeed have company. She was dressed very sexily, in lacy black lingerie. I was kind of jealous that she seemed to have such an ordinary sex life, whilst here I was in a tiny box in a cupboard, pleading to drink her piss. Again she waited until I was sufficiently invested, then relieved herself directly into my waiting mouth. I didn’t even get a shame-gasm for my subservience, since the shocks had been largely absent until she began to trickle her waste into my mouth. Instead I just got a few shocks to remind me what had been so thunderously absent until then.

“Jacob is going to be staying over, so I’ll let you out in the morning. For something to do,” she brandished a water bottle that had clearly been loaded to the brink with cum, “you can do whatever you want with this.” She bundled it into one vacant hand, and without further comment quickly closed the door again-- and ensured the latches were in place before padlocking everything securely. I felt the cupboard door close again, and then were no further sounds. Darkness reigned once more.

I was very quickly losing my mind being bundled into the tiny box. I would’ve been happy just to be able to hear Rebecca and her partner going at it, but I was denied even that luxury. I almost wished the chastity belt would torture my poor cunt just so that I might be able to reach another fucked-up climax. I shamefully-- in principle-- tried to suck up some of the cum from the bottle, but without anyone observing it remained completely unexciting. I was just consuming filthy cum from a bottle for no reason whatsoever. But there was nothing at all to do with it except swallow it, and I ended up taking sips over time just for something to actually do. I got cramp more than a few times, having to readjust myself as best as I could. This was a whole new type of unpleasant, simply left to torment myself. There was nothing to be excited about or disgusted by, I was just sat in a tiny box whilst Rebecca got on with her life. My life, really, since she worked at the place I used to work at, replacing me entirely long before then. And now she was fucking the kind of guys I probably would’ve fucked before all of this started.

The morning finally came-- and thankfully I did manage to sleep through much of the period in-between-- I couldn’t have been more relieved to be blinded and find Rebecca towering over me as the door to the box swung open.

“I bet you’re ready to be really properly used today, aren’t you, Naughty? I guess we’ll see.”

Rebecca took my leash and guided me gently out of the box. I was stiff and my limbs struggled to cooperate, but when I tried to stand, she beckoned me back down.

“No, Naughty, I want you to stay on all fours. You don’t walk anywhere unless I say you can.”

Whilst practically inhumane, it was almost a mercy since the shoes hurt to walk in anyway. She led me by the leash as I crawled on my hands and knees out of the cupboard behind her. She had strewn a bunch of what looked like dog biscuits onto the carpet of the bedroom just beyond, and positioned me next to them.

“Eat up your breakfast,” she directed, pointing at the carpet, “yes, it is dog food. But it’s nutritious. And you can do it or I’ll make you beg to eat it, it’s up to you.”

My eyes pleaded with her, but the chastity belt was shocking my cunt gently now, my shame building as she seemed to be treating me like such an animal. I leant down and started to chew on it, tasteless and biscuit-like as it was. It wasn’t dreadful, but it was being consumed off the floor, and that was very much a new low for me, in more ways than one.

I looked up at her as the last of it was finally digested, and she handed me a flask of water to drink down. I took that keenly, raising up on my knees to drink it, surprised that she wouldn’t just let the taste of dog food linger for a while.

“Now, while you’re down there, lick my pussy.”

I was no stranger to satisfying her needs by this point, and the belt stopped shocking me as I moved in between her slightly-parted legs, reaching up to lick her from my place on the floor. She let me work my tongue over her for long minutes, calling out in pleasure and grabbing my hair tightly to keep me close. She allowed me to provide her with five orgasms before she grabbed my hair and made sure to cover my face with her pussy juices before pushing me away again. Now the belt was shocking my cunt again.

Next on the agenda it seemed was cum. Or rather, a full bowl of cum was presented, placed on the floor in front of me, and no spoon seemed to be in sight.

“Okay, now I want you to lap up every drop of spunk in that bowl, using only your tongue. I’m going to paddle your ass until it’s all gone, no matter how long it takes.”

And with that the mentioned paddle was shown to me. It had been a long time since she’d actually smacked me with that thing. Licking up all of that cum was going to take ages. In practice, it probably took around half an hour, the smacking constant throughout, my ass blazing in redness and my pussy suitably tortured. A shame-gasm remained elusive, however, my cunt only recently having been warmed up towards it.

She lifted my head by the chin as I licked up the last of the cum from my lips. “You haven’t been used enough yet, have you? You’ve been more than willing to play along with everything so far. Accept it, you love to be used.” She made sure that my eyes met hers as she said that.

“Open your mouth, Naughty.” I didn’t immediately know what she was requesting, but then her warm piss started to rain down over me, much of it missing my mouth and running down the length of my body. The belt was punishing my pussy intensely now, but it still wasn’t enough to tip me over the edge into that fucked-up excuse of an orgasm that I somehow longed for.

“You love to be used,” she said again as she slapped my face, then spat on it. She slapped me again, this time from the other side. “You love to be used, Naughty. You know you do. You crave it.” The belt really was shocking me intently now. The climax felt nearer.

She pulled me up onto all fours again, then reached behind and unceremoniously unfastened my chastity belt.

“I don’t think you need the belt for now. See, if you love to be used-- and you do, Naughty-- then I need to make you wait to be used, don’t I?”

I felt flustered, and more than a little lost. Towering over me, I wasn’t sure what she actually wanted from me. She stooped down in front of me, our eyes level.

“Now, beg to be allowed to go straight back in your box.”

That was definitely the last thing I wanted to do. Oh fuck-- I really did want to be used. I wanted anything other than the box.

“Don’t worry,” she continued mockingly, as if she truly thought it might help, “you might still see me when I need to pee.”

She smiled a big smile, and waited patiently whilst I struggled to find the right words to express how badly I wanted to go back into my box again. I really did not want to go in that fucking box. But she listened to the words that I was actually capable of spewing, and led me by the leash back to the side cupboard. I could only whimper to myself as she wordlessly watched me bundle myself back inside. Already beginning to close the door as I adjusted myself awkwardly back into position, she seemed to hesitate long enough to reach for something on the outside of it, and an extremely bright light suddenly activated inside of the box, strong enough to render the entire area virtually shadow-less.

“I don’t want you to be sleeping during the day, Naughty. The frame of the box will get a little shock every five minutes too, just to be sure.”

And then the door was closed again, and I was alone in the box. Completely unnecessary latches and padlocks could be heard moving and locking into place, and then she was gone. Almost instantly I was faced with the prospect of being in the box for the rest of the day. Rebecca had made no mention of when I was going to be left out again, so I had next to nothing to work with. All I really knew was that she could come and make use of me as some fucked-up personal toilet whenever she fancied. It was so incredibly messed-up that all I had to look forward to was the chance that she might come and piss all over me. She didn’t even have to let me out to relieve herself as such, and there was clearly some kind of drainage built into the base of the box below me.

One thing was certain: the box definitely managed to keep me awake. The lighting was so bright that anyone would’ve struggled to sleep anyway, but the regular shocks made absolutely sure that I was completely sleep-deprived and awake to endure every minute of this fucked-up imprisonment. I had no notion of the passage of time, and no sounds from outside seemed to reach me. There was just nothing but the consistently small confines of the box and the occasional cramping of muscles that required some repositioning. My bottom stung from the earlier paddling, which just made the restricted positioning even more uncomfortable-- I couldn’t sit too long in one spot and I eventually worked to try and keep my ass raised from the floor as much as possible, which put infinitely more strain on the rest of my body. But there was literally nothing else to distract me.

It turned out that wasn’t quite true, but I didn’t learn this until many hours had passed in this very smallest of solitary confinements: there was a screen built into the inner surface of the box opposite where my head typically ended up. I didn’t even immediately notice that it was now showing the feed from within our bedroom. The quality wasn’t fantastic, but it was enough to work with, and I stared transfixed as I was finally given some kind of entertainment to focus on. The door to the side cupboard was clearly visible in frame, and just right now Rebecca was walking by, laughing at something someone off-camera was saying. There was audio, but it was very quiet. Eventually this other individual became visible, and the two of them kissed passionately. She was lifting his t-shirt off over his head, his toned and bronzed body clearly exciting her as they continued to lock lips. He pulled down the straps of her lingerie and exposed her amazing breasts, cupping them and moving in hungrily to kiss the tender flesh of her boobs. He reached her nipples as Rebecca in turn reached down his pants. She pursed her lips with satisfaction and started to guide him over to the bed. He climbed on top of her as Rebecca was already pulling off her thong, the two of them very clearly about to have sex on our bed.

And then the screen went blank again. It was so disappointing to be thrust back into the nothingness of the box, knowing what was happening just next door. More than that I was jealous of how normal her sex life seemed to be compared to whatever mine was. Being shown that was worse than just imagining it. I eventually realised that the audio was still coming through, straining to hear as two voices grunted in effort and pleasure, clearly both enjoying each others bodies. The screen came back on whilst I was listening intently, but this time the video being shown didn’t match the audio coming out of the speakers. This one instead showed me bent over on someone’s bed as they fucked me from behind-- by one of the men that I had been loaned out recently to. He was clearly very overweight and not someone I would consider attractive at all. Hell, I wouldn’t have even noticed that someone like that existed before all of this. But he got to have his way with me-- though he didn’t really know what he was doing. Like the rest of the men that had loaned me he was keen to diminish me and make me beg to do stuff he knew I didn’t want to do. I knew I was shouting out what a slut I was whilst he fucked my ass. He didn’t last very long once he actually got going. He’d shared me with someone that I’d assumed was his brother, an even more grotesque figure of a man, but he’d been a lot more confident and rough with me than the other man. Under duress, I’d begged both of them to fuck me, and they’d callously left me bent over on the bed to make me wait for it.

The picture cut back to the scene in the other room, with Rebecca and her partner now joined together on the bed, his hips thrusting into her, and the expression on her face telling me that it felt fantastic. The guy was really hot, I had to admit, and they looked great together as they fucked. The audio had flipped again, though, and now I heard myself begging to be fucked in the ass, over and over, more desperate each time. The audio and video both alternated again, and I was back to watching myself being shamefully penetrated by complete strangers as the sounds of Rebecca and the man’s love-making came across the speakers.

These strange mash-ups of contrasting sex-lives became a rare ‘treat’ throughout the rest of the day; Rebecca and her partner making love on our bed-- presumably live, but I had no way to be sure. It was the only entertainment that I got, plunged back into isolation as soon as they finished having sex. It was impossible not to be envious of her. All I could really think about was what they kept showing me-- of what a normal sex life looked and felt like, and what a depraved and filthy one looked and felt like in stark contrast. Mutual lovemaking between beautiful people versus cruel subservience at the hands of deeply unattractive perverts. I was alone with my shame, but it wasn’t turned into a stimulating enough game without the help of the chastity belts’ barbarous electric shocks. Too much time to reflect was punishing in a whole different way. At some point the light finally went out and the sleep-depriving shocks finally relinquished, and I suspected that meant it was finally nighttime. I tried to let myself sleep, disturbingly disappointed that Rebecca hadn’t even bothered to come and see how I was, even though that likely meant I would’ve just been the casually obliging target of her bathroom requirements. Speaking of which, at some point I did have to relieve myself, and whilst there certainly seemed to be drainage of some kind down there, it wasn’t particularly effective and I ended up begrudgingly sat in my own urine for a while afterwards.

I did sleep, and morning came around in turn. I had somehow been in the box now for most of an entire day and night by this point, and I could only pray that she would let me out again soon. I was going to lose my mind if I stayed in this thing for much longer-- it was exhaustingly dehumanising. Thankfully I got my wish and the latches did eventually begin to be peeled back. Light from outside seeped into the box, the door opening wide, Rebecca standing tall above me. It was hard to fight back the utter relief of seeing her again. She took the leash handle and wordlessly started to draw me out of the box, crawling on initially weak hands and knees as she led me into the bedroom.

Straight away I could see that she had strewn the dog food across the floor again, but this time it was somewhat ordered and in one spot, right next to a pair of bowls not unlike the one she’d had me lick up cum from the day before. She led me over to them, dropping the end of the leash once I was in position. I was barely two metres away from the side cupboard and the box within, the door tauntingly propped wide so that I could see exactly where I’d spent the entirely of the previous day-- and could frightfully be bundled back into with little notice. She stooped down to my level to address me.

“Good morning, Naughty. Are you ready for breakfast?”

I looked at the bowls in front of me-- one was clearly filled to the brim with cum, and the other was half-filled with off-yellow piss. The dehumanisation never really stopped it seemed.

“So, this is your breakfast right here. We’ve got your dog food, your favourite yummy cum and a days worth of saved up urine, courtesy of yours truly. Quite the three-course meal. If you look really closely you’ll see that I’ve mixed in some of my trimmed pubic hairs and recently-clipped toe nails with the dog food, just to make it extra nasty for you.”

As I looked closer I was sure I could see exactly that. I was trembling despite myself-- this was all so disgusting, so inhumane. Was this kind of thing going to be all that I was permitted to eat from now on?

“I think you’ll need a little encouragement to get started, so why don’t you beg to eat your breakfast? Beg to eat and lick up every little bit of it until absolutely spotless.”

And with that she started to organise something on the other side of the bedroom. My pleading was expectedly reluctant to start, but quickly became more genuine. It wasn’t too long before she had me frantically yearning to be allowed to start eating it all. On the inside my stomach was already turning at the thought of what I was no doubt going to be permitted to do. Since the instruction was to finish it all, the gnawing emptiness wouldn’t fade until the very last drop had been consumed.

She loomed over me as my desperation reached a satisfying enough peak. “Are you going to eat it really quickly for me, Naughty? I’m a very busy lady.”

“Yes! I’ll eat it really fucking quick. I will!”

“But you won’t miss a single bit, will you?”

“No! I really really won’t, I want to eat and lick up every little bit of it!

“Oh, I know you do, Naughty,” she reached for something that had been lying on the bed nearby, a little higher than my eyeline. It was the paddle. She was clearly going to smack my already red and bruising ass again. She placed it on the floor within my reach.

“Beg to smack your own ass as hard as you can for the whole time you’re eating your breakfast.”

Oh fuck, she wasn’t even going to partake-- she could just make me do it all by myself. The aching chasm of need I felt to eat the nasty breakfast was quickly joined by another burning desire to be allowed to discipline myself at the same time. She waited torturous minutes whilst I pleaded for both. I could feel my unburdened cunt throbbing and becoming wet, previous conditioning unravelling, the shame free to overflow. My hips swayed, the whole crotch area buzzing. My cunt had seemingly gotten so used to reacting to my shame that it just couldn’t help itself now that it was free to do so, especially after so long alone in the box.

“Okay, Naughty, gobble it all up and give yourself a good smacking while you do. Go ahead.”

Without even waiting to watch me begin she strode out of the room and left me to my enforced hurried devouring of this so-called breakfast. I picked up the paddle far too keenly, reaching behind and striking my ass as hard as I could even as my mouth gathered the clusters of dog food-- apparently what I’d selected to be the first course. I was far too aware of all the other nasty things she’d added to the pile as I chewed it down, unable to separate the better from the truly horrible, and down it all went. This unassisted breakfast session dragged on, taking far too long to lap up the contents of the two bowls, my ass thoroughly worked over, my pussy juices dripping down my legs, the humiliation seemingly private and uncared about-- I was just a very pretty girl, down on the floor, frantically eating dog food, cum and piss while smacking myself senseless for no reason at all except to torture myself.

Rebecca came back as the noisy sound of the self-smacking unceremoniously stopped in time with the last lick of the bowls before me. Making everything look spotless took far too long using only my mouth, and I’d even had to nibble and lick the carpet where the dog food had been previously to ensure I’d gotten every pubic hair and toenail. The carpet hadn’t looked cleaner. She stooped down next to me with a beaming smile, then showed me the timer on her phone.

“That took 36 minutes, Naughty-- so that’s the time to beat tomorrow.”

Oh fuck, she clearly expected me to do this every day. I was suddenly very worried that she would just put me straight back into the box now that I’d humiliated myself and all of the bowls were dutifully cleaned out-- just enough nourishment provided. Knowing that was a possibility, part of me wished in that moment that I could’ve taken my time with the disgusting breakfast, gifting myself as long as possible even though I’d be doing something highly degrading instead. Rebecca sat herself on the edge of the bed next to me, slipping her shoes on to the floor to reveal her bare feet.

“Now why don’t you convince me not to put you back in the box by worshipping my feet with your mouth.”

I looked at her feet-- they were pretty enough. I had done far more disgusting things by this point, that putting my mouth around those couldn’t possibly be that bad. She hadn’t made me beg, but the mention of return to the box was trigger enough it seemed, and I quickly did as she asked, leaning right down to where her feet floated and caressing them with my lips. It wasn’t so bad in of its self-- she did have very sexy arches and toes, just as I did, and I kissed and nuzzled across their length as delicately but fast as I dared. My hips continued to sway somewhat, the overall humiliation still uncomfortably arousing.

After a time, she stood up and turned herself around before me, then shuffled her pyjamas down right in front of me. I was presented with her admittedly very sexy and decidedly-unpunished bottom. Mine seethed with redness and fresh bruising in contrast.

“Why don’t you keep convincing me that you deserve to stay out of the box by worshipping my asshole with your tongue. Get it right in there.”

There was nothing holding Rebecca to any of these promises, but I was genuinely so terrified of being put back in the box that I moved straight up to where her ass stood and got my tongue working swiftly to entertain her wishes. She was well-groomed and clean, and despite it being her ass that I was now shoving my tongue into, it certainly didn’t seem as bad as my mind first tried to convince me it was. I was driven onwards by the need to show her my worth, it seemed, to motivate her not to just throw me in the box again where I could do absolutely nothing. After a while she turned around and pressed my face into her cunt instead, and I obliged with this too. Licking and caressing her pussy with my learned talents, expertly exciting her and helping her climax. She selfishly ground her crotch on my face as I serviced her to orgasm after orgasm, my own cunt throbbing with renewed vigour, equally as wet as hers, yet completely unapproachable. Only after she felt satisfied did she push me away and sit herself back on the bed, clearly somewhat flustered by my efforts.

“Good girl, Naughty. Are you ready to be really used today? I think you’re going to go for a little walk.”

My pussy throbbed. I hated that I was happy to hear that it was anything but the box again-- that I would rather be humiliated than be left in such isolation. She reached for what passed for an ‘outfit’ that had been neatly arranged on the bed beside her, then manoeuvred me so that I was sitting upright, my legs finally allowed to stretch out in front of me. She unlocked the ankle strap of my high heels and slipped the painful shoes off, one foot at a time, before slipping my legs into a pair of stockings that stopped around my thighs. The freedom short-lived, the towering heels went back on afterwards, secured back in place with little delay. She then helped me into the tiniest set of baby pink underwear: a bra and thong set that I was sure looked great on me but did absolutely nothing to hide my bulging breasts and battered behind. Suspenders completed the set, clipping onto my stockings and leaving me looking like either a pornstar or a hooker, I couldn’t tell which was more appropriate. She then tidied my hair and ensured I looked hot enough-- though I certainly would have preferred to have the chance to shower-- before she dressed herself and finally led me through the house by the leash to the front door. Once there, she pulled me up from the floor, seemingly allowing me to walk whilst outside, itself a considerable effort since I’d barely used my legs since the day before.

As a final touch before we left she then took my arms and worked them behind my back. Some kind of wrist cuffs were shuffled into place and my hands restrained behind me. She tested the range of movement and seemed happy that my arms weren’t going anywhere. And then we were outside.

It was considerably more difficult to stay upright on the towering heels without my arms to stabilise myself, and Rebecca continued to urge me on faster with the leash. I avoided the eyes of the people we passed, not a single person unable to stare at this spectacle of two very hot girls walking around, with one leading the other around on a leash, arms tied behind her, her outfit showing every sleek curve of her figure, with very little left to the imagination. My cunt glistened in the panties, quite clearly visible through the thin pale fabric that I was hopelessly wet.

Rebecca led me to places she’d seemingly selected in advance, walking me into venues where the entire bar would go silent when we entered, my gaze low as they ran their eyes across me. She would lead me right over to groups of leering men, and almost present them to me.

“Would you like to touch her breasts, guys?”

They were more than happy to oblige, reaching out one at a time to grope and fondle my tits, savouring their fullness.

“I think she likes that,” Rebecca taunted, “would you like to feel how wet she is?”

And then they eagerly took turns to slip their hands into my panties and discover my extreme wetness, sharing their incredulity with each other. It was beyond exciting to have their hands so close to my pussy and my whole body was tingling with the arousal.

“Don’t waste that,” she said as the men pulled there slick hands away again, “make her taste herself.”

And so their fingers went into my mouth and I was forced to suck off my own pussy juices. Satisfied that I felt sufficiently humiliated in front of this first batch of gentlemen, she led me away and across to another group. In turn they all got the chance to fondle my tits, put their hands in my thong to examine my dripping cunt and have me lick their fingers clean afterwards. None of them were particularly shy. Another pub and more of the same. Shocking public indecency that somehow kept me soaking wet and dripping, my juices coursing down my taut legs as they balanced on the killer heels. It added up to dozens of men touching and fondling me one after the other, handed free access to my most vulnerable and sensitive of regions. I could only whimper as they handled me, and before I knew it more than a hundred men had been gifted this privilege. And then she took me to places where only girls would meet up, and groups of them were offered the same opportunity, hungry eyes wandering my figure as they played with my tits and exposed my wetness.

Feeling extremely violated but somehow buzzing with arousal, Rebecca finally led me to a somewhat quieter pub, sitting me down at a table instead. Onlookers were plentiful as she reached for something in a pocket and moved behind me. A padded surface came into view from above, moved closer and closer until it covered my eyes entirely. I could feel her securing some kind of strap behind my head, and then I was completely blind. The next thing I knew, Rebecca was tugging on my leash again, guiding me across the room. And then the very public interchange continued, with more groups of men being offered intimate access to my tits and crotch, examining and probing me with their fingers. My nipples stayed thunderously erect. The intensity of the humiliation was somehow more severe whilst blindfolded, not knowing who these wandering hands belonged to, nor really knowing where I was or who else was watching. The mind made up the rest of the torment for me, and my senses felt heightened, my delicate skin ever more excitable as the public groping went on.

We walked to yet more pubs, offering me up as a plaything, my eyes barely even able to register the rare flickers of sunlight around the padded edges let alone anything of my surroundings. My body couldn’t do anything but respond in kind to all of the attention it was getting, the demeaning foreplay leaving me wanting so much more.

Almost as if knowing this, Rebecca eventually turned and directed her voice my way. “Okay, Naughty, I’m going to leave you with this gentleman for the rest of the day. He’s going to take you home.”

I obviously had no awareness of where I was or who I was with by this point. I didn’t even know if Rebecca had already left, but my leash was suddenly pulled on and my legs guided me along again as best as they could handle. I could hear the bustle of passers-by and an endless amount of cars, but I was mostly left alone with my own anticipation and fearfulness, not even being able to see who was holding my leash let alone do anything about it. In time, I was guided into a building and in turn onto a bed, my ass held up high. I felt someone tug my panties down around my parted thighs and then.. nothing. There was no chastity belt-- I could actually get fucked in my pussy rather than my ass, there was nothing at all preventing it. My excitement wouldn’t stop building, the anticipation unbearable. I couldn’t let me myself think how wrong it was that I wanted a complete stranger that I couldn’t even see to push his cock into me. For now at least Rebecca was right-- I did need to be used. You just can’t fight what the body wants sometimes, and right now I desperately needed him to make use of me-- to help me push back against this fucked-up arousal that clouded every thought.

The blindfold was lifted from my eyes and I squinted as daylight seeped in once more, blinking as I took in my surroundings. Some creepy-looking old guy was there, his hair visibly white, looking more like somebody’s grandad, in stark contrast to the more youthful perverts who typically loaned me. Only then did my arousal dip somewhat-- I didn’t want to be fucked by someone in their sixties or so, I was way too young and hot for this guy. It wasn’t fair, Rebecca got to have the gorgeous ones! She had all the fun!

He brought his wrinkled-looking cock towards my mouth and I obediently had to take it, trying to excite him to fullness as he worked himself inside me. It took a while to become erect and I felt somewhat repulsed as I hungrily licked and sucked him, eliciting moans of satisfaction as I did so. Once he was suitably erect, he moved himself around behind me and began to rub his shaft along the opening of my slit, noticeably exciting him, my slickness covering his shaft as he rubbed it gently across my pussy. My body ached for it, but my arousal had faded now that I knew who was going to fuck me. I somehow would have happier to have remained blindfolded and dealt with it later-- or not at all, I didn’t need to have known at all.

Almost as if detecting my hesitation the old guy pulled his penis away and instead picked up my leash handle again. He pulled me back off the bed, making me crawl awkwardly instead of walk-- my panties still down around my thighs and my arms tied firmly behind me-- and lead me to a small cupboard. He opened it widely and I was immediately confronted with an exact replica of the box found at home. I looked up at him with wild eyes-- how the fuck was this possible!

“Beg to be put into the box.”

He started to stroke himself as he stood above me, my words beginning to say what I desperately didn’t want to do. After a few minutes I was frantically appealing to him to let me get inside whilst he masturbated himself just above my pleading eyes. He shot his warm load across my face just before finally leading me inside, bundling myself in that same torturous position-- albeit so much more unwieldy with my arms pulled tight behind my body-- and left to whimper to myself as the door closed, latches were slid across and the padlocks secured. The bright light then came on, and I knew the periodic shocks would be soon after. His spunk lingered on my face as my own juices got everywhere down below. I was so incredibly deflated after being on such a high earlier, as perverted as that may have been. Somehow I seemed to know that my tenseness as he tested my pussy was the reason for this particular incarceration, as if my ungratefulness once I’d seen who was about to use me had gotten me into this new mess. It didn’t feel fair-- why did I have to be excited no matter what? Why couldn’t I have standards? Even as I thought it, I knew that was probably the point. They didn’t want me to have standards: any cock was fair game, no matter who it belonged to. I was ungrateful. Maybe that was it, or maybe I was just torturing myself with nothing else to do.

After some amount of time-- that certainly felt like hours-- the box opened up again, and my contorted body was lead out, again only permitted to shuffle along on my knees, before being helped back onto the bed. Once more I found myself bent over in position with my ass up high, ready and vulnerable. My wetness had long faded by now, the arousal left to fizzle out in the loneliness of the box. He directed me to suck him to hardness as before, savouring my expert mouth and letting me continue long after he was erect and throbbing. Cock slick my my saliva, he then moved around behind me, where my vulnerable holes were up for the choosing. He rubbed his shaft tauntingly along my pussy opening, testing my eagerness. I tried to relax and convince him that my cunt wanted even the cock of this filthy pervert, but the wetness refused to come despite myself and my continued tightness clearly told him what he needed to know. And so down onto the floor he lead me once more, crawling over to the cupboard and the box within. Once more, he directed me to beg to be placed back inside as he stroked himself above me. The absurdity of the situation finally got my cunt dripping again, begging for what I loathed as he pleasured himself. I was going to keep being placed into that horrific box until my body somehow conformed. My face sporting fresh cum now, I could only watch as the door swung closed and was sealed in place, leaving me alone in that awful box for the second time, cramped behind belief, my bottom burning from the mornings’ prolonged self-smacking. I could barely move, and scarcely believe this kept happening-- the box really was outright torture.

Railing against my enforced predicament somewhat, I tried to make myself understand what he wanted from me. I couldn’t make my pussy want what it didn’t really want. How was I going to make him understand that? But then I had an idea: maybe I could just excite myself in other ways- I could fantasise about something, anything, that made me aroused enough that I could accept it. I thought about all the things that I had been through-- the growing litany of humiliations and shameful acts; about all the begging they made me do, and all the public indecency that Rebecca had directed my way. There wasn’t a part of my body that hadn’t been cruelly violated by this point, even using my own orgasms against me and making me deny many others when I desperately wanted them. Everything was choreographed for maximum depravity. I could feel my cunt starting to ache as I considered everything I had been forced to do of late. Just this morning I had literally devoured dog food, a bowlful of cum and half a bowl of piss for breakfast, and that was without even thinking about the toenails and pubic hair she’d made me eat too. I was noticeably wet now-- recollecting the numerous abuses really did seem to get me throbbing. I continued to let my mind wander-- the humiliating caning of my own cunt; licking me to the edge of orgasm before pulling away and punishing me instead. How much I’d actually enjoyed having those hands all over me earlier: fondling my breasts and my pussy, and making me taste myself on their proffered fingers. Rebecca had given me plenty to be excited about today ahead of this particular loaning out-- I had been really expertly used today. And I was soaking wet now, thinking about it all.

Even as he later came back to collect me from the box, I was still glistening with slickness, my pussy on fire thinking about all the degenerate things that kept happening to me. And now I was alone in the home of some random old guy-- a whole new humiliation to torment myself with. Rebecca had made me do this, and that made it exciting. She was right, I liked to be used. Maybe it wasn’t always true, but it was now. I wanted the attention-- not to be placed into tiny compartments and made to wait as any arousal fizzled away. I wanted them to make use of me; to enjoy how much I humiliated myself and keep feeling that twisted high. I wanted escalating perversions and deeper levels of shame to get me off. And I wanted to be denied those very pleasures in an artful self-regulating cycle of degradation. As he savoured my mouth for a third time, my ass up high and my panties down, I let my mind sink further into the outright powerlessness of my situation. Rebecca would know what he was doing to me. She would know how disgusted I would be, and how hard I would have to work to force myself to enjoy it. She probably expected me to fail, but would be so proud if I didn’t. Maybe she wouldn’t even put me in the box when I was taken home again. But I thought about all the sickening breakfasts she was going to make me eat, and all the worship she would no doubt continue to expect. I thought about the excitement I had somehow felt as she led me outside in such whorish clothing, and all the attention she had ensured I received, as if the excursion was a reward of sorts. I thought about how I might only be allowed out of the box to eat endless amounts of filth, lick her pussy on demand, and be taken outside to be casually abused by strangers. Those things, and only those things for as long as she liked. I could object, and I didn’t know if I even wanted to object.

The man moved behind me, my hips swaying in anticipation, my cunt throbbing at the thought of this new violation. She would make me fuck increasingly disgusting men and make me like it. She would only let me experience orgasm for the most foul of individuals. My disgust was kind of the point. She was the one choosing who I fucked-- it wasn’t up to me at all. I just had to do what I was told and my cunt would get all of the excitement it craved. The man tested his shaft against my trembling slit, finding it impatient and more than ready to be used. I couldn’t help letting out a moan as he triumphantly entered me, his hands planted on my hips as he drove himself inside. Each thrust had me panting, the shame of this new low driving me to vocal exhilaration. His cock was just what I needed, urging him on with my exasperations. And after savouring his passionate thrusts for pleasurably long minutes, I finally felt myself begin to climax. For the first time in nearly a year I had an orgasm, and it felt amazing. My entire body visibly shook with the effort and I screamed out in absolute delight, my pussy tightening around the cock that had got me there. I hungered for more, pushing myself back onto him. I finally noticed the camera on the table nearby recording everything, and that just made me push myself harder, more desperate to cum again. There was no going back now, I just wanted to be pleasured. I deserved it after all this time. Maybe I had been broken, I didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter any more. I was powerless against what Rebecca could make me do, and do to myself. There was no fighting it. I came again all over his cock, wailing in pleasure. I was going to accept whatever cock I was given if I could have orgasms like this. Less than a minute later I climaxed again, and still I couldn’t help myself. Six; seven orgasms. My mind was completely in the gutter, I was still gagging for it. He removed himself suddenly as another man walked into the room. I got only a glance at him, lost in such overwhelming arousal, and it instantly didn’t matter how old this second man seemed as he fed his cock into my mouth. The first man continued hammering away at my cunt whilst I sucked him to hardness, my moans silenced by his cock. They then swapped places and I accepted this second cock as effortlessly as the first, instantly excited to be used this way. They penetrated me from both ends as my orgasms kept coming, my body loving every minute of it, seemingly unable to tire of the attention. They swapped places again and I hungrily sucked whatever cock I was given as the other fucked my pussy the way it wanted. Orgasm after orgasm coursed through me, until finally they both shot warm loads into the respective orifices and my body had to accept that the exquisite bombardment of pleasure was finally over.

They left me there on the bed for a while, and I didn’t even care. I did feel used, but it felt good anyway. I was still hopelessly wet and ready for more. But then something really weird happened.

I woke up in the box. I didn’t remember how I’d got there, nor which of the boxes I was even in. Was I home already? I felt incredibly disoriented, but my cunt felt strangely good-- which was apparently the first thing I noticed. I waited since it was the only thing I could actually do, as cramped and uncomfortable as it ever was. After what felt like hours to me, the monitor opposite me activated and I was confronted with a scene set in the bedroom I was sure I had just been in. On the screen I was bent over on the bed, the old guy making use of my mouth to get himself erect. My hips were moving around like I was excited by this, and eventually he walked around behind me to test how responsive I was. Moments later he was fucking me and I was flailing around like it was the most pleasurable thing that had ever happened to me. I watched, confused, unable to accept the reality of what was happening on the screen. I didn’t remember that.

The audio started to come through too, just in time for me to scream out in apparent orgasm. I watched in horror as the orgasms kept happening, one after the other, the man’s cock apparently working wonders to excite me. This wasn’t real, it hadn’t happened! All I remembered was him putting me straight back into the box when he realised I wasn’t excited enough to take his cock. None of this had taken place. But my cunt did feel strangely good. It didn’t make any sense… unless he had made me forget what had happened afterwards. It was true that I didn’t recall getting into the box again. I squirmed with this realisation, knowing deep down that it had to be true. Another guy had joined in on the action on the screen now, the two of them taking me from ends. I was clearly loving every moment of it, squealing in orgasm around the cock in my mouth. I watched this version of me climax over and over as these men poked their shafts into her. My cunt did feel the way it used to feel after having an orgasm-- so long ago now-- tingling and sore in a nice kind of way. Is this really what happened?

As if to finally answer this, I continued watching once the men had finished inside me. One of the two returned after a little while and gave me a note to read. Moments later I collapsed on the bed; the men then worked together to carry me over to the cupboard which was just out of view of the shot. And then the screen went dark again.

I didn’t know what to think any more. How could I trust anything I thought or did if they could just erase bits of it afterwards. What else had been erased from my memory? And to take away the pleasure that I had clearly just basked in seemed beyond unfair. But how had I managed to force myself to enjoy it in the first place? That knowledge seemed lost.

The rest of the day passed as a bit of a blur for me. I was removed from the box again some time later and made to assume the usual pose on the bed if to taunt me further. When I looked down at the bed sheets there were drops of what could have been dried cum below where my head was. The man left me alone in the bedroom, as if he was happy enough with what I’d already done for him. Maybe an hour later he wordlessly replaced my blindfold and led me outside. After being lead around for a long while, I finally heard Rebecca’s voice.

“Hey Naughty-- did you have a fun day?”

I heard her heels clicking as she pulled me along, then suddenly stopped again. It was starting to rain a little.

“Oh, don’t be sulky. You don’t want to be broken. The girl you saw on the screen-- she was broken. You’re just a girl that-- for a minute there-- was on the very edge of being broken, and trust me, that’s where you really want to be. You’re still you. We can bring you right back. Come on, I’ll give you a treat if it’ll cheer you up.”

And then she guided me over to what seemed to be a nearby wall, my back pressed firmly against the cold surface that I stood against. I felt her gently slip my underwear down around my thighs again, legs wide enough to keep the fabric of the flimsy garment taut and in place. Nothing happened for a moment but then Rebecca’s tongue found my clit, working over it as irresistibly as ever. I tried to deny the arousal that grew between my legs, but she was far too good at licking me by this point, and knew exactly how to make me cave. I moaned as she continued, not even caring who might be witnessing this. She waited until I was really getting into it before pulling away and standing again.

“Keep your panties around your legs until you get home and don’t let them fall down. If they fall all the way then I’ll have you caning your own ass for an hour before bed.”

I whimpered to myself, my cunt absolutely soaking again as she continued to lead me onwards. It was hard enough to walk on the heels, especially with my arms bound behind my back-- and now even harder still with my panties around my legs trying so hard not to let them fall. The blindfold left me to imagine how many people must be witnessing me walking around with my underwear so clearly pulled down from my crotch, my glistening cunt completely on view to all. The renewed excitement was intoxicating, and Rebecca knew it.

“And whilst we’re at it, beg me to let you eat cum when we get home. Make sure everyone can hear.”

It was amazing how quickly I could be manipulated, yanked along the streets with my panties down, earnestly begging to be allowed to eat cum when we got home. My cunt felt the shame of every step, never seeming to get any closer to home. She knew how to get me to frustrate myself and to effortlessly forget whatever previous troubles I had been possessed by. Rebecca jerked on the leash and my underwear fell just a little-- my legs struggling to stay parted enough to pull them tight, not at all helped by the lubricating pussy juice streaking down my inner thighs.

Rebecca had considered this to be a ‘treat’. And I mean, I was wet as fuck, so I guess I had to admit that maybe it was.