Once Brianna got to the bottom of the stairs she had to make a turn, and she faced another man in the living room staring back at her. He was facing her expectantly. She supposed he must have heard her going down the stairs. As soon as he saw her, he let out a wolf whistle as he took in the view of her in her skimpy dress and high heels.

She blushed and looked at him more carefully. He was dressed in a stained wife-beater and stained shorts. He was unhealthily thin and had a gaunt face. His arms had many tracks. He also had an array of medicine containers in front of him. A worn book bag to his side with clothes peeking out suggested he probably wasn’t a roommate. He was probably someone Steve had allowed to stay. The thin man had the eyes and movements of someone high.

“C’mon over here sugar. The way for a woman to be happy is to please a man. Let’s fuck. You won’t be sorry.”

She froze. This proposition wasn’t subtle. There was no doubt how far it was going. It seemed obvious he was a drug abuser. His track lines made her fear for the STDs she might get if she said yes. Yet she didn’t want another rule. She also knew she didn’t have long to decide. His stench began wafting into her nose.

“No thanks,” she declared. She thought to herself about her options. The first option: within an hour of not accepting a man’s proposition, she must use a belt to whip her naked tits, ass, and pussy, while reminding herself that she’s a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes. The second option: once a week she would have to get fucked by at least one man without using any form of birth control or protection, and that man would have to be different from any previous man.

She gasped. These were brutal options. She wondered if her subconscious was punishing her for her smugness about the last rule. She selected the first option: within an hour of not accepting a man’s proposition, she must use a belt to whip her naked tits, ass, and pussy, while reminding herself that she’s a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes.

This new rule was certainly going to get her undivided attention. It was still going to take more than an hour to get home, and Steve had left. She decided the best place available for her to accept her fate was back upstairs in Steve’s room. Without a word she went back to Steve’s room and closed his bedroom door. She looked, but found no lock on the bedroom door. She would have to hope the stranger downstairs would not check on her.

What rule should she do first? If she whipped herself first, it would be painful to try to edge later. The whipping would also eliminate the needful feeling after edging. She decided edging should be first.

She stripped, entered the bathroom, put some towels down, and knelt facing out towards the open bathroom door. At least the towels would help. She began using her fingers to try to bring herself near to orgasm. She didn’t feel great, and had orgasmed a short time ago, so she was starting with nothing. She stroked and stroked her cunt for many minutes, with nothing to show for it. She wondered if the stranger would eventually come into Steve’s bedroom to check on her. If he did, there was nothing she could do other than give him a show. It might be a long one. She needed some inspiration. She looked around.

She had been kneeling exactly in this spot not long ago and had been caught masturbating in the nude. Steve had forcibly taken her to the bed and fucked her. She hadn’t consented. He had taken advantage of her. He had sprayed his cum inside her unprotected cunt. He had dominated her, and she had helplessly submitted to him. He had raped her exactly where she was staring now. She felt a twinge of desire. She still wished it hadn’t happened, but it was hot, it was fresh in her mind, and the memory was especially strong. She was exactly where it had happened. She continued staring at the bed where she’d been recently violated.

Soon she felt her heat rising up from inside her. Her fingers continued to stroke her cunt and nipples as she remembered every step of her rape, over and over. He repeatedly caught her masturbating in the nude, kneeling exactly where she was kneeling now. He manhandled her onto the bed. He spread her legs. He fucked her cunt. He washed her exposed cunt with cum. Her memory was disturbingly vivid, but it was working.

She voluntarily relived herself being raped, repeatedly, as she masturbated while kneeling naked on her rapist’s bathroom floor. Her heat kept increasing and increasing. Her head wouldn’t allow her to stop. Surely she was close enough now to orgasm, but she still wasn’t allowed to stop. Would the man downstairs eventually come upstairs and catch her masturbating too? She kept stroking her cunt and pinching her sensitive nipples. She started internally begging to be allowed to stop. Yet she had to keep going, and going, and going, continuously reliving her recent rape. She could feel that her cunt had become soaked and her nipples had gone completely erect. Yet still she couldn’t stop.

Finally her subconscious allowed her to stop. She dropped her hands to her side. She was now a bitch in heat who was desperate for release. Yet no one was in the room who could satisfy her aching need. Her body was covered with sweat. She softly cried out from carnal need. She thought about going downstairs to ask the stranger to fuck her. Summoning her willpower she managed to resist.

Then she remembered what had to happen next. Fear struck into her heart. Now she had to do the whipping. She hadn’t brought a belt, but she was next to a man’s bedroom. She stood up. After a moment of searching she found a thin and dangerous-looking leather belt. That seemed to be acceptable to her subconscious. She didn’t have to do this in the bathroom, but she sure as hell didn’t want to make so much noise that the stranger would come upstairs. She back went into the bathroom. She closed the door and turned on the shower to muffle any noise. Then she turned to the mirror so she could see what she was doing to herself. She did not look forward to this. Her nipples were always sensitive and she would feel this strongly. She lifted her left elbow high and put her left hand behind her neck to leave her left breast exposed. She steeled herself. She lifted her right arm and swung the belt down hard on her own left breast.

The pain was unbelievable. She made a sound, even though she was trying to stop it. She stuffed a hand towel into her mouth. Tears gushed from her eyes. She thought to herself, “I’m a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes.” Her right arm lifted high, struck another blow, and with horror she felt her tit sing out a plea for mercy. Again she thought, “I’m a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes.” After several more strokes, with her new mantra repeated after each, she began whipping her other breast.

There was a problem with this order. After edging, her tits and cunt were especially sensitive.

Her mind finally let her stop that part of the punishment, but there was more to come. The bathroom was narrow. She couldn’t figure out how to do the next part in the small bathroom. So she decided to go to the bedroom to whip her ass. She figured she could lie on her back on the bed, pull up her ankles with one arm, and whip herself with the other. As she readied herself, she realized this would be a big problem if the stranger came up. If he walked in now he’d see quite a show. He could easily drop his trousers and fuck her.

This whipping took longer. She whipped her ass over and over again, repeatedly telling herself, “I’m a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes.” Ten times. Twenty times. Thirty times. She still couldn’t stop. Her subconscious apparently thought she needed a sound whipping on her ass. After her ass had been thoroughly beaten she was allowed to stop, but she knew she was not done. She stayed on the bed, put her feet down, and spread her own legs. Fear gushed from her face. She felt her own arm lift up. She knew what would come next. She began to whip her own bare cunt, with horrific pain on every stroke. She screamed into the towel in her mouth. Again and again while she whipped her naked cunt she reminded herself, “I’m a stupid bitch who needs to learn to say yes.”

She was finally released from her punishment, but she was released to a universe of pain. She was terrified of having to do that again. She’d heard of women who would submit to ridiculous commands from fear. It didn’t seem ridiculous now. Her fear was primal. This discipline was going to be quite effective at keeping her in line. She would do anything to get rid of this rule. If she couldn’t get rid of it soon, she’d do anything to avoid that punishment. She wanted to be brave, but she knew she couldn’t be brave long against this new rule. She knew she was a stupid bitch who needed to learn to say yes.

She rested as best she could. The pain slowly subsided. She took a cool shower, dabbed herself off with a large towel, and carefully put her dress back on. She winced at almost every movement. Thankfully the stranger downstairs never came up.

She looked at Steve’s belt. She realized it might be dangerous to leave the house without a belt. If she rejected another proposition on the way home, and couldn’t get home in time, she wasn’t sure what would happen. She had never stolen anything before. She had never even considered stealing before. She had thought of herself as above that sort of thing. That was before. Out of fear she stole the belt and hoped Steve wouldn’t notice. She stupidly didn’t even have any cash to leave behind for him. She reminded herself — from now on, whenever she went to a bar she’d bring cash. She signed up for a ride using her phone, making it clear in the comments she wanted absolutely no communications in the vehicle. She wanted them to wordlessly pick her up and take her home. She committed to a significant extra fee in exchange for silence.

She walked downstairs. There he was again. “C’mon, let me nut in you. You know you want it.” Thankfully, she was allowed to ignore later propositions from the same man on the same day once she rejected one. She muttered “No thanks,” and gingerly let herself out.

She had to walk some distance in her skimpy red dress and high heels to the pickup point. It was late morning rush hour, so it was apparent to over a hundred strangers that this was her walk of shame. There were even two people at a distance who looked exactly like people she knew. She hoped she was wrong and tried to walk faster so that they might not recognize her. The pain all around her body slowed her movements, so more people saw her walk of shame. Thankfully no one said anything directly to her. She made her way to her ride and got into her apartment without incident. Brianna was glad, but she knew her luck would not last.