Punishing Greta

Punishing Greta.

'Success is a muscle' Greta affirmed to herself for the 1000th time as she left the elevator and walked into her office. She had been strengthening that muscle for 15 years, building upon her efforts to run this business. It was the single most important thing in her life, more important than her husband and children, her friends, everything.

That hierarchy turned out to be a mistake.

"Good morning Ms. Cline" the receptionist chimed as Greta walked past the reception desk. "Good morning Clara," Greta responded out of habit on her way by.

Clara could never help herself. She was not gay, and probably not even bi, but the sight of Greta walking past her each morning got her out of bed. The woman was stunning. She had a presence about her. As though the air in the room got out of her way.

Greta's outfit this morning was a classic black A line skirt, off-white silk blouse, black nylons and a pair of black pumps. The skirt seemed to be tailored to accentuate her perfect ass. Muscled, protruding just enough, but not a jiggle in sight. Like the rest of her body, strong, chiseled, lean and muscular. Her build, combined with her small breasts, resulted in a somewhat boyish shape. But most of all.... her ass. 'Perfect', Clara affirmed to herself for the 1000th time, her eyes glued to it for the 2 seconds of Greta's passing. Every morning, the same.

Greta had turned this shit hole of a company into a well-respected profitable one in less than 5 years. A wife and mother in her mid 40's, but mostly the very successful CEO of a mid-sized fabrication company. Ruthless, beautiful, fit, smart, confident and used to being in charge.

That was what she showed the world anyways.

She could always feel the eyes of her staff, all at their desks pretending to work busily as she walked through the open office to the exterior glass lined walls where her office was. She was by nature much more sensitive than she was ever allowed to show. That character she hid most of the time, using the insights and direction it gave her as a kind of secret weapon. To the world outside, the job description demanded a mindless strength and confidence. But to herself, it was all much more complicated.

She knew that most were looking at her in fear, some with adulation, and a few with lust.

The ones who feared her were exactly where they should be in her view of the world. They would never challenge her or ask for anything close to their fair share.

The ones who revered her were never to be trusted. Sketchy was adulation, uncontrollable and generally fleeting. She let them work, which that type excelled at, but they stayed at the edges of her world, always the first to be sacrificed.

The ones who lusted after her were the easiest. They were ripe for manipulation and use, and she did that with every one of them. Tonight was going to be a testament to that. She had made a deal with herself, a reward of sorts, and had unique plans for tonight with one of them.

It had not always been this way, and she suffered from imposter syndrome at weaker moments in the past. There was a part of her that was not comfortable with 'Greta the destroyer', or 'Greta the barbarian' or any of the other names her employees called her when they thought they were in private.

She told her husband she would be 'busy tonight' and went about her plan

Late that evening, Greta finally arrived home. Everything in her life was about to change completely. Standing in the kitchen was David, her husband, his face hard, his voice loud and angry. Almost through his teeth he hissed, "You lying slut!"

She was shocked at first, standing there, her jaw slack in confusion. He then wound up and smacked her across the face. Shock turned into total shock. Never, never in over 20 years had he so much as laid a finger on her for any reason whatsoever. But just as quickly as the shock registered, it was replaced by a kind of anger she had felt only once or twice in her life, and never with him.

Pure, white-hot rage consumed her as she tumbled and landed on her ass on the floor. But the power of the rage allowed her to hop from the floor to a fighting stance in one move and fling herself at him, "I will kick your ass" she screamed throwing well placed punch after punch. She was trained and in fantastic shape and now used him as a punching dummy, screaming at him the entire way.

He reached for her, but she was quick, and strong, and very, very angry. "No one hits me" she screamed again, renewing the attack. She kicked his knee with full force, hoping to set up the next kick into his balls. As she drew back and switched to her other foot, he finally made his size and strength count for something and launched himself at her, hitting her square in the chest, with his head. She flew back several feet into the dining room, sending chairs in all directions and the huge oak table itself moved 2 feet from the force of her impact. The wind knocked out of her, and maybe something broken, she was left gasping and spitting on her new wool rug.

Greta expected him to take advantage and continue the attack. She would. But he instead reached around her neck and locked into place a dog collar, with a lead on it. She immediately screamed at him and struggled to rise up, but the number of injuries she felt made her attack impotent. He handcuffed her hands behind her back and tied the dog lead to a table leg and limped out of the room, dripping blood from his mouth the entire way.

Greta threw up on to that pristine Persian rug, rolled over and passed out.

When she awoke, Greta realized that she had been moved, and that she was very, very sore. The fog lifted slowly, eventually allowing her to see that she was in her living room, a length of chain locked to a different leather collar around her neck, extending to a loop newly bolted into her hardwood floor. Strangely, the thought that consumed her was not that she was in bondage in her own house, but that someone had ruined her oak floor. Even at that moment she realized that her priorities might be out of whack.

"Arrggggg," she complained as she gathered the strength to move. Her hand traced the chain up to her neck, investigating the lock and latch, the thickness of the leather. It was solid and stout. There was a pad lock connecting it all together and the collar was far too tight to pull up and over her head. She followed the chain down to the other end where another lock connected it to the loop in the floor. She gave the end a yank. No reaction on the loop at all, but plenty of reaction from her body. Another squeal of pain slipped from her dry lips.

Finally, managing to sit up, she could survey the room. It had been completely rearranged. The room was large and had been designed for gatherings. Timber beams soared above her forming a high vaulted space with clerestory windows all around. At the end of the room there was a stone fireplace with wide book cases on both sides. The chairs and couches that had originally been placed near the fireplace were rearranged into a semicircle, no longer focusing on the conversation and hearth, but now focusing on her. Her spot was at the other end of the room. All of the furniture and tables had been moved away and out of her range, leaving it completely bare. The rugs were gone as well, so that contact with the cold wood floor against her skin brought goosebumps.

Among the chairs and couches there was a camera on a tripod. She would have missed it except that it was connected to the large screen TV on the side wall which projected her from that perspective. Looking at the screen, she could see that she was a mess. Her shoulder length black hair was matted all over the place, her dress filthy with blood and vomit from last night, her face ruddy and swollen. The projection illustrated the true nature of her situation, the collar, the chain, her absolute helplessness. She flipped the camera off, just in case he was watching.

Greta got up and crawled toward the nearest door, irrationally thinking that getting out of here was her first priority and that she should just leave. After 4 feet the chain pulled taught, and her head snapped back against it. She felt the same rage building up in her again. Who the fuck did this to her. Anger overwhelmed the soreness, allowing her to hop up into a squat and then up onto her feet, the chain grudgingly coming along.

She foolishly took another step forward and was pulled right back onto her ass, which enraged her even more. "What the fuuuuuck!" she screamed hopping back up onto her feet and pulling at the chain with all the might she could muster. Not so much as a hint of movement. Another pull, then another yank, then another, finally panting at the effort, anger sliding into despair at the realization that she was not going anywhere. Fear suddenly overcoming her.

A thought floated through her numb mind as she stood there.' The body feels fear very similar to how it feels arousal. It's all consuming.'

Greta held the chain in one hand and walked the limits of her range. She defined a large circle, 8 feet in diameter in which there were only two objects. The first, a porcelain enameled steel pot with a few inches of water in the bottom. She recognized it as one from her kitchen. The other, a humble plastic water bottle. Aside from those, she could reach absolutely nothing else no matter how she stretched.

It was all perfectly clear. It has been at least 8 or 9 hours since she passed out under the dining room table. She was thirsty and needed to pee. "Oh my fucking god," she yelled. And then, as loudly as she could, expecting that he is in the house somewhere, "are you fucking kidding me?"

Anger overtaking her again, screaming at the camera, "I AM NOT USING THIS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I AM NOT!!"

Greta collapsed next to her pot, once again dejected. Her anger still simmering but blunted by the harsh reality that she was going to pee one way or the other. And she would either do it all over herself and the floor, or she was going to do it in that fucking pot. She sat there clenching her muscles to hold back the inevitable.

The house was absolutely quiet. 'Maybe he is not here,' she thought. It was perfectly clear that the kids were not there. Even David would not want to expose them to this kind of shit, no matter what she had done.

What had she done?

The memory of last night began to reform. She and David had had a massive row. Their relationship had always been dynamic, and they had their occasional fights, and sometimes those had been physical, but always with restraint. Last night was different. Last night had been a fight to the death, but she could not quite recall why....

And then it came. It was her fault, all of it.

She had a small indiscretion with a very young man at her office who had made a fairly minor mistake, bringing him under her intense focus. She leveraged his mistake till he consented to her demand. In this affair, she was the dominant, he the submissive. She took him in a way that her husband would never allow. The event resolved into higher resolution as she thought about it.

At the hotel room she reserved and instructed him to come to, she had waited. He arrived, nervous, but still excited. I mean, she is hot, and he was one of the ones who lusted after her. And no matter how young or submissive he is, he is still going to respond to that. Sitting in a wing back chair in the suite outside of the bedroom, legs crossed, a black leather corset around her tight body, she addressed him. "You are going to be punished for your ineptitude. Do you understand?"

He nodded slightly, fear and arousal showing very clearly on his face and crotch, his hands fidgeting at his waist trying to conceal it.

"WHAT" she screamed at him.

The poor boy literally jumped back a foot and nearly tumbled over. He was attractive, but not athletic. His body was not like her husband's. Tim is modest, almost frail. Her husband David is muscular, strong, confident. She loved that and she hated it at the same time. But this boy was so much different. She could do anything she wanted with him. To him. Isn't this what power was for?

"Answer me," she said more quietly, menacingly.

"Yyyyess" he stammered, his mouth trembling.

Greta loved the fear. "Would you believe that I have never done this to a man before. I mean boy," she said with a smile. "What I am going to do to you?"

Panic overtaking anything else he might have been thinking, his voice quavering, responding as she had hoped, "yyyes, Greta."

Timothy was terrified, but also incredibly hard. Greta was the single hottest woman he had ever been near, and no matter what she had planned, it was still going to be fantastic.

Greta stood up and approached him, standing only inches from him. Her corset doing its best to boost her breasts, but there is not much to work with there. But down lower, the way her narrow hips formed, curving in to her black satin panties, he was mesmerized. The vision of that was worth every punishment she could dream. He hoped anyways.

"Strip," she commanded and walked away from him and toward the bedroom. He wanted to comply, but the shape of her ass pulled every thought he had right out of his head. He had snuck peeks at her, everyone did, but seeing her with only a small piece of string up her crack and both perfect cheeks flexing, he was struck dumb. Stupid. That was the most perfect, erotic thing he had ever seen in his life was all he could think as she turned and slapped him hard across the face.

"Strip." She commanded again in her best 'girl boss' voice. "Now." She could not help but enjoy the appreciation he had for her body, but it angered her as well. 'It's a weakness to give him that power,' she thought.

He quickly complied, pulling each layer of clothing off until he was completely naked, his slightly better than average cock rigid and straight.

Greta gave him a slight smile, reached up to his neck and pulled him by it into the bedroom. There, the duvet and blankets had been tossed to the floor and only the sheets remained. 3 pillows were stacked in the middle of the king bed. "Get up onto the bed and over the pillows," she instructed, still holding him tightly by the neck.

Timothy timidly looked up to her, his head still submissively tilted downward. She met his eyes and stared, commanding, waiting for him to comply. A part of him wanted to say no, but that part was weak in comparison to her power, her control of the situation, her control of him. He immediately relented and moved to the bed to climb on.

Once he was bent over the pillows, obedient, Greta could not help but massage herself. She was throbbing and wet and incredibly aroused. It started off as more exciting than she imagined, having this kind of control. To take what she does during the day and twist it into something else at night. But there was something wrong, something like doubt in her mind. She could not tell if this was actually worth it, that what she was doing was actually what she wanted. That kind of worry was something she had dealt with for her entire life and had learned to bury and force down. 'This is just like that', she thought and went ahead with her plan to use him as she had fanaticized.

Behind him, still standing next to the bed, Greta peeled off her g string and pulled up the strap on, inserting the nub end up into herself. The young man, face down into the sheets looked over to her with a strange mixture of apprehension and lust. He must have known it was going to be like this.

"I'm not a beast Tim. I am not going to force you to do this," she said, pulling the straps tight, the dildo wiggling as she got it all in place. "I need your consent. Not just acceptance, but you actually saying to me that you want to do this." She stopped, waiting, counting on his submissive nature to carry him further on.

He was used to being dominated, used to being pushed around. It was how life was as far as he could tell. He was used to it. So that part was not something that bothered him at all. But he had never been fucked in the ass, as that was clearly what Greta had in mind. Part of him wanted to say no again, but other parts knew he could not. He wanted to please her. And he knew that she knew that. The whole consent thing was a ruse. It was bullshit.

"You can do it," he finally responded. Knowing already that she would demand more, he continued, "I want you to do it. But I want you to be gentle and slow. I have never done this before." His head turned into the bedding as he completed his submission. His 'enthusiastic' consent.

"Ok," was Greta's only response. She moved around behind him, climbed up onto the bed and forced his legs apart. His cock was pressed out against the pillows, and she traced her fingernail from the very tip up to the base, then up the seam of his lightly furred balls and finally up to his tiny, puckered hole. She had seen this view on her husband before, but this boy looked so much more attractive. Very light hair and everything smooth and in proportion. A slight shiver worked through her as she watched his skin enflame and goose bumps form across the entire back side as she stimulated him.

Reaching for her phone, she tuned up the vibration on the dildo, pushing the nub up into her clit, moaning, "ahhhhhhhhh," as she did so. Dropping the phone she reached back down and massaged his balls, rubbing fingers up and down for a minute as he squirmed below her.

Next came the lubricant, which she poured all around and then worked across his ass and into his tight hole. She could barely get a finger in as he tensed at the pressure. "You are going to have to relax and let me in Timothy, or it is going to hurt even more than I want it to."

He nodded into the bed, taking a deep breath and relaxing as best as he could. She could feel it. Her finger slipping into him now with much less resistance. "Perfect. Stay just like that," she commanded.

Her finger probing his ass, he felt completely humiliated. This was not what he thought it was going to be like. This woman was fingering him like he was a whore or something. It was what she liked about him he decided, wincing at the pain as she pushed her finger deeper into him. "Agghhhhhhhhh," he groaned as she did it.

After a while, for no reason other than her own impatience, she decided he was ready and pulled her finger out. Then added more lubricant, pushed it down into his ass a little and then poured some onto the strap on. It was not large as these kind of things go, but was 'definitely going to make him squeal', she thought with some enjoyment.

She lined it up, placing the tip up against him, leaning into it, causing the other end to push up into her. They both released a long groan as the stimulation got the best of them both. Greta held the middle part of it firm and pushed again, harder this time, staring down to his ass, waiting for the moment when it would slip past his muscle ring and into him. She pushed, and waited, and pushed a little more, impatience building within her.

The moment finally happened like magic. His hole opened up enough, either on its own or through her force, and in her dildo went. And he did indeed shriek a little, which was somehow very satisfying. His complaint was met with a sharp "shhhh!" "Quiet. Relax and take it," she instructed without empathy.

After that moment, it was almost boring. She rocked back and forth, fucking it into him, riding the other end against her clit until she worked herself to an orgasm. Once she was done, she pulled it out of him, got up, got dressed and left. That was it.

It is not what she thought it would be, there was something weirdly unsatisfying about it. Something altogether missing. More of the same, just like a day at work somehow. Business like.

And somehow, her husband had found out. Either she had made a mistake in her planning, or the young man told him. But there was almost not enough time for that to have happened, so it must have been something else.

The replay in her mind stopped, forced out by her building biological need. She could not wait another minute. Her bladder was bursting and whatever the humiliation, she was going to have to do it. Giving one last look over her shoulder at the camera and the TV, she hiked up the dress and pulled down her panties. Kneeling over the pot she squatted down. After all of that time holding it back, her body gave way and pee flooded out of her, splashing back up onto her from the water in the pot. A thick stream. The release was fantastic, almost erotic. The humiliation of being chained to the floor and forced to pee in a pot, in the middle of her own living room, while somebody watches, was strangely very powerful. She thought, 'never has peeing been so humiliating. Never so sexual.'

Climbing off the pot once she had finished, she looked over her shoulder at the camera then crawled over to the water bottle and took a long drink.

Greta woke up some indefinite period of time later. It was light out still, but she could tell the sun was setting from the orange light coming through the windows. There had to have been something in the water bottle. She felt groggy and weak, her mouth fuzzy and uncomfortably full of something, and she had to pee again. A tremor of horror passed through her as the full understanding of her situation returned to her conscious mind. "Fuck," she moaned into the wood floor that her face was plastered against.

'What is wrong with my mouth' was the first thought. Her hands found their way up and traced new straps around her head, and then to a ball, filling her mouth, saliva coating it. "Fuck," she tried to say. But against the ball, her tongue and mouth were not able to form intelligible words.

She wriggled on the floor, but could not manage to get up, her hands did not seem to go where she wanted them to. Struggling against the lack of coordination, she finally was able to roll over and sit up. Looking down at herself she realized that her situation had gone from bad to worse. Then looking around the room, even worse still.

The collar and chain were still fixed to her and the floor, but now she was naked except for a brown leather strap around her waist and up between her legs, and the ball gag. Those were bad, but by far the worst part of this new situation was that there were 5 people sitting in the chairs facing her. And she knew every one of them.

Her husband, Rick and Karen and Mark and Bree. The 2 couples that Dave and she were closest to. What the fuck could possibly be going on she wondered as her head swooned from sitting up too quickly. No one was saying anything. They were just sitting there, staring at her, the men with anger, the women with empathy. She got an overwhelming impression from both Karen and Bree that they were more familiar with her current situation than they would like.

"This is going to be hard for you," Dave finally said. "I love your strength, but you are going to give that up tonight. You lied, and you cheated, and there are repercussions. Your decision has consequences. You have something important to learn." He paused as the words soaked in. "Both Bree and Karen have had to learn this lesson, but I had hoped you and I would never come to this, but you fucked that up."

Greta took a very deep breath, trying to calm the rage building up in her, a rage that will have no effect. Dave saw her eyes shift to the water bottle at the edge of her chain length. "Just water," he said with some sympathy. Why would he lie at this point she figured. He had total control. They all seemed to.

Greta crawled over to it, dragging her chain across the floor and attempted to squeeze its contents into her mouth around the ball. Most of it ran down her naked chest, and what did get in caused her to choke. She quickly realized that she could not control what goes down her throat without a tongue, leaving her coughing and heaving up what she had just tried to put in. After catching her breath, she glared at Dave and more carefully squeezed a little water in, some of which worked its way around the ball this time, but most of it pouring cold across her breasts and onto the floor.

Bree stood up and walked over to the edge of her range, "Do you want me to take that off for a minute?"

Greta nodded, trying to fight the urge to kick out at her and knock her down, somehow getting leverage. Its leverage that has always been her problem she realized. Acceptance. That is what she needs to feel. Willing acceptance that she is just the girl chained to the floor. That she can finally shed her identity, responsibility and self-consciousness. That she would be free of the monster she built.

Bree motioned her finger for Greta to come toward her and Greta crawled over to her until the chain pulled taught. "Keep your hands down at your sides, and once this is out, no talking or it goes right back in," she quietly said to her. As Greta patiently waited, Bree fingered the key and reached out toward the side of the ball gag, unlocking the strap then pulling the contraption out of her mouth. Drool flowed out of Greta's mouth and onto her lap.

She flexed her jaw, fingers massaging her numb lips, feeling her mouth close after such a long time. She felt gratitude. What she should have felt was anger and vengeance, but instead it was gratitude that Bree would help her. This whole situation was already warping her brain.

Bree stood there, as if waiting for something, holding that damn gag in her hand. Greta looked up to her from her knees with a questioning expression. "Greta, go and get some water before you put this back into your mouth."

"Bree," she whispered. "Let me go..... please." She was actually pleading. She could not ever recall pleading for anything. She was the one people begged, not the other way around. Again, everything was backwards.

"Ssshhh, "she scolded quietly, hoping that the others had not heard her. "I'm sorry Greta, but I cannot do that," glancing over her shoulder at the assembled group. She walked over to the bottle, picked it up and handed it to her. "Drink." She softly instructed. Greta lifted the bottle and drank, draining the bottle in a minute. It turned out she was actually really thirsty.

She set the bottle down and Bree reached out a hand with the gag in it, expecting her to take it. She did not. That would be ridiculous.

Bree stared at her. "This will go a lot better if you do what you are instructed to do."

Greta considered what that meant. She understood that this could get worse. That all they had done so far was humiliate her, not actually hurt her. And that option made her a little afraid. The fear once again giving her a strange tingle. This was probably not the time to fight them anyways, and she did not want to be hurt. That much still made sense in this upside-down situation. She reached out her hand and took it.

"Good girl," Bree said. "Now, put the ball back into your mouth and cinch the strap."

This part was more difficult for Greta. She was now actually being told to participate in her bondage. It was not just something that was being done to her, it was something she was actively going to help with. Her hesitation when on too long.

"Greta," Bree said again in a low voice, but menacing. "Do as I am telling you."

The fear rushed forward and she opened her mouth and pushed the ball in, taking a deep breath through her nose. Once the strap was brought back around, Bree reached over with the lock and latched it into place. It was not coming off without the key, that was clear.

Bree took a deep nervous breath and reached over and patted her on the head, just like she was a dog. She was trying to see her as a dog, thinking this would all be easier to participate in. But as a woman, she was conflicted. Part of her felt enormous empathy for what Greta was about to go through. She had been there, the memory of it was awful, PTSD kind of stuff.

But there was something else Bree realized. Greta was amazing. Her face was beautiful, even with smudged make-up and scuffs. Her cheek bones were perfect and high, her nose small with a cute up turn at the end, her eyebrows black and bushy, perfectly and symmetrically placed above her piercing blue eyes. Her mouth wide, that flashed a mouth full of straight white teeth when not stuffed with a ball gag. Not even a hint of a smile now, understandably.

The rest of her was athletic and chiseled, as though sculpted out of stone. Her breasts, while beautiful, were very small, but they fit the muscular build of her arms and chest. And last but not least in any way, her ass was sublime. For as long as Bree had known her, she could never take her eyes off of her ass every time Greta walked away from her. It was an amazing thing. She had spent so many group trips to the beach just following Greta around.

A pang of lust rushed through Bree as she thought about what was going to happen to that behind tonight. She smiled, looking into those deep blue eyes, patted Greta's head again, then turned and walked back to her seat with the others.

Dave stared down at her saying, "that was good Greta. I think you might be starting to get a glimmer of what we are expecting of you." He looked over to the nodding heads of her former friends. "But you have a very long way to go," he added and paused, looking at her with a strangely sad expression. "For now, we are going to leave. When we come back, we will continue." With that they all got up and left the room. She could hear them get into a car outside and drive away.

'What the fuck' she thought to herself. What if something happens, a break-in or a fire. She is not going to be able to go anywhere. There was nothing she was going to do. She could not get loose, could not scream, Could not help herself in any way.

She laid down and curled up on the hard cold floor. 'Maybe they can see me on the camera' she thought, 'and would come if there was a real problem.'

As she lay there, completely helpless, her mind explored a momentary feeling that she just had. She became aware of something that she did not expect. She suddenly felt a massive sense of relief. An appreciation that she was not in charge of anything right now, That she is not responsible. That whatever happens was going to be decided by them, and not her, and that they were not going to listen to a single word she might be able to grunt out around the ball. She realized that chained to this floor, she was actually free.

Greta drifted off with this strangely soothing thought running through her mind.

She woke up with a start and a shriek. Greta knew that the leather strap running between her legs was not just a strap. She could feel something there but had no idea. Might just be a seam or something, but it was pushed up into her a tiny bit. Considering all of the other issues, that was minor and she had not considered it further. But now, she had no choice.

Now it was buzzing, whatever it was. Buzzing, and it was right on her clit. She bolted up and tried to pull it away. But the strap was tightly fixed in place and she could not move any of it more than a fraction of an inch. From her squat she looked up in fear and exasperation to each of the faces now returned and looking down to her.

Dave flicked something on his phone and the buzzing stopped, well, not actually stopped but went down to a very low vibration. The initial buzzing had actually been kind of painful, but the new setting was much more tolerable.

"Better?" Dave asked.

She nodded, going down onto her knees, then back onto her haunches, grinding her hips against the vibration a little bit.

"There are 2 ways we can do this Greta," Dave said in a somber tone. "You can comply and submit, or you can fight and resist. I know your initial response has been to resist, but I sense that you are seeing the other side of this coin. The side where you do not have to be in charge, the side where decisions are made for you and you go along with them, without question."

"If you comply, we are going to train you to not have the kind of selfishness that caused you to molest that young man. The training will be painful sometimes, humiliating most of the time. But, if you cooperate and try to understand, it will be rewarding."

"If you resist and fight, the experience will be more difficult." He paused, looking at her first then after a moment, off out a window as though pondering something. She waited. It was a new experience for her to be the one who waits.

"So, will you cooperate? Will you do as you are told, and accept every punishment and embarrassment you have earned?" He paused again, deciding if she was even capable of the kind of submission that this would require.

"Will you learn to be obedient?"

She began trying to respond, but it was all just a garble coming around the ball. He cut her off. "Stop." And she did. "Just nod or shake your head." Which she did. Nodding, to no one's surprise. They would find out if she was really capable soon enough.

For her part, Greta was indeed afraid of the pain they threatened her with. But she made the calculation. One direction would lead to more pain, the other to less, hopefully. And she was intrigued. Could she just follow the instructions and not lash out. It would be a big change, but she was a mess, kneeling on the floor, naked in front of her friends. Something was already changing in her understanding of herself. She was not just Greta the barbarian. She was something else as well. Something that she had hidden for a long time.

Dave nodded to Karen who stood up and walked over to Greta. She stopped at the edge of her range, and speaking very softly said, "I am going to walk into your space and unlock the end of your chain." She paused and smiled down at her, then continued. "You are going to just sit there and not move until I tell you to. Ok?"

Greta nodded again, a small drip of drool working its way around the ball and onto the floor. "Ok," said Karen and stepped over to the hoop bolted to the floor, unlocked the lock and picked up the end of the chain. Greta watched her but did not move. This was progress. At least she was not bolted to the floor anymore.

"Stand up," she said evenly. There was no warmth in her voice as there had been with Bree. Perhaps her experience with this treatment had left her a little more angry about it.

Once on her feet, the chain drooping from her neck over to Karen's hand, she looked and waited. Karen smiled coldly and said "Good. Now walk to the kitchen and make drinks for your guests." Greta looked at her, confused, and then turned and walked slowly into her kitchen. This was the longest path of travel she had had for a couple of days she realized. She also thought that being a good hostess might help her out of this.

She gathered the glasses, mixed the drinks, placed them on the tray and then turned to Karen who nodded to the other room. Greta picked up the tray and started walking, Karen's eyes glued to Greta's backside as her naked cheeks moved with each step. She could not help it either. As much as she wanted to hate everything about Greta, that ass could not be hated.

Once back in the living room she approached the "guests," but the chain was pulled tight as she got close. A warning of sorts. Greta stopped. Karen must have looked at the group, as they all nodded slightly and the chain tension decreased, allowing her to get close enough to hand them each the drink she had made. They all accepted in turn and sat back, looking their servant up and down. Each taking a drink, then setting the glasses down on the side tables, waiting. That part made Greta more nervous than anything else. They all saw something coming. Only she was out of the loop.

Their attention went back to Karen. Rick nodded and she said, "ok." Karen smiled, a very cruel smile and said, "crawl up onto the coffee table on your hands and knees and wait." Greta turned back toward her, causing Karen to tug and shake the chain as a warning. The message was pretty simple, and Greta set the tray on the edge of the table and then crawled up onto it, waiting there on hands and knees. She was facing the group, her backside toward Karen. They all sipped their drinks and looked her up and down, watching her submit. She was defeated so easily. Her humiliation so complete.

"Ok Bree," Dave finally said, and she stood up, grabbing a leather strap that had been laid menacingly over the arm of the couch. She looked down at Greta, their eyes meeting, again with the empathy she had shown before, but then she continued to walk around behind her where Karen still held the chain.

Bree stood behind her, waiting or something until Greta turned her head and looked over her shoulder. Bree's eyes were fixed on her butt, now bare and sticking out. She watched as Bree lowered her hand not holding the strap and very gently caressed Greta's entire backside. Her fingers and nails dragging across the smooth skin, causing goose bumps to rise.

Greta watched her with a certain amazement. Bree was clearly getting off on this. And the on-going low level vibration on Greta's clit was causing her to respond to Bree's touch in a way she would never have normally done. As though there was anything even remotely normal about this whole situation.

"Sorry," she heard Bree whisper, then just as abruptly, the hand went away and the strap was lifted up above its target, Bree's eyes no longer looking at her with lust, or empathy, but now with intent. The strap came down across her right cheek with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the large room. Greta's head swung forward and she screamed into the ball, which came out as a muffled moan, her body involuntarily lurching forward until she was yanked back by Karen and the chain.

"Stay!" yelled Karen from behind her. "You are not to move, no matter how much it hurts."

Greta collapsed down onto her elbows from the pain which only exposed her more to the next strike. 'Whack' it went again, causing the same reaction. She stared up at Dave, who was watching without enjoyment. He looked serious. The other 2 guys were enjoying this though. They were trying to be neutral, but both of them had small curls at the corner of their mouths. She screamed "Muuuuuukkkkkk ooooooooo" at them both as the strap came down again hard on her burning ass. But she stayed in her spot. She did not jump up and start kicking the shit out of everyone, which was clearly her first inclination. Unlikely to work anyways considering the level of restraint they had on her.

Instead, she took it. She took the spanking. She complained and cried at the pain, but she took it. After the fifth or sixth strap, Bree walked back around to the couch, sitting down and handing the strap to Mark. He did not immediately get up, but took a drink instead, and looked over at Dave.

"They are all going to take a turn in punishing you," Dave said calmly. "You might have already figured this out, but Bree and Karen have both made similar mistakes as you, and both have endured the same punishments. I don't think they liked the pain or humiliation any better than you do right now, but in the end they both accepted it and they are both still married, and in some ways happier. It's a tradeoff Greta."

"I'm not trying to break who you are. I love who you are. But you cannot have an affair like you did, behind my back, and think that that is ok. To think that that is fair." He paused for a while. All she could think about was her ass stinging. She breathed heavily around the ball, drool flowing out of her mouth and onto the table below.

"You have to change a little," he said, nodding to Mark who got up from the couch, the strap swinging from his hand.

"Not too hard Mark," Bree pleaded as he positioned himself around back of Greta and lifted the strap.

Before he brought it down on her, Greta could feel the vibration of whatever they had locked between her legs increase. The stinging of her ass, combined with the sudden rush of blood to her cunt caused her to push her ass back out toward Mark. Probably exactly the opposite of what she should have done as the strap came down with a new force, nearly knocking her off the table. The end of the strap wrapping around the curve of her butt to snap itself on the exposed lip of her pussy. The level of pain on such a sensitive area was a new experience.

"MMMMMMAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGG." She screamed uncontrollably into the ball as the pain assaulted her. "MMMMGGGGAAAAAA," as the next one came down causing her to bang her head on the table, now seeing stars.

He hit her several more times in quick succession and stopped. The vibration also stopped. She was left there panting, her head on the table, her arms bent and her ass still up in the air. Still taking it. The pain was incredible. The humiliation of actively allowing someone to punish her like this was overwhelming. But there was also something else.

"I think she likes it," said Karen sternly. As though her judgment mattered.

"She will not when I get through with her," her husband Rick cruelly muttered as he stood up, taking the strap from Mark.

Greta realized she could get up. She could fight this whole thing. Could go after Rick with all the fighting skills she had, and although he was bigger, she thought she could do it. He was a pussy, a bully, and she hated him. But she looked up to Dave, who was staring down at her with the strangest expression. Hoping that she would submit.

She could fight, and her life as she knew it would end. Her children, her husband, her whole life. Ended in one stroke. Or she could submit, and suffer the indignity of what they had planned, but keep it all. It would be worth it she was sure at that moment. That was the deal proposed in the look in Dave's eyes.

The vibration returned and she tried to yell, "You think you can make me like this, you think you can make me cum over this?" But all that came out was "mmmmmggggaaaa." And the arousal built within her. They made her aroused at being dominated. Fuckers.

She looked back over her shoulder again at the asshole who was about the spank her. 'fucker' she thought again. 'I never liked you'. The strap came down hard. So fucking hard she could hardly believe it. The worst part was how the strap wrapped around her butt and stung her pussy again. His technique was cruel but effective. This was not an accident, he was doing it on purpose

She forced herself to limit her reaction. Forced herself to give him zero satisfaction by screaming and crying. But the pain was incredible, and tears flowed. She had never felt anything like it in her life. She drifted into another state as he continued to smack it down upon her, much more often and with much more force than Bree or Mark.

And then it just stopped. What had been the single most intense 40 seconds of her life just stopped. She was gasping around the fucking ball, an ocean of drool on the table. She struggled to regain some sense of control over her body. She looked up at David finally, then just dropped her head onto the messy table, her awareness and focus swimming.

She became cognizant of another sensation besides the ferocious burning of her backside. She became aware of the vibration that apparently been building throughout the entire assault. She had not noticed it on a conscious level, being consumed with the pain and controlling her reaction to it, but on a subconscious level her body had been responding to it all along. She could tell that the pain and the vibration had combined to arouse her to the very edge of an orgasm.

David could tell that she was finally realizing what he was doing, and could see the very familiar signs of her approaching orgasm. Her hips involuntarily pushed back, squeezing the vibrating plug up against herself more tightly. "Wait!" he commanded. "Wait for my approval, or Rick will start all over again." He paused, fiddling with the application. "Do you understand me?"

Her face still planted onto the wet table she groaned around the ball and tried to nod. It was unbelievable that they should think she could control such a thing. But she absolutely did not want another session with Rick, so she focused every part of her mind on complying with David's instruction. She took as deep a breath as she could under the circumstances and pulled her hips up to try and get the damn vibrator off her clit as much as possible. This was not tenable for long. But she tried and hoped he would release her.

After another several minutes of her struggle David looked up to Rick and nodded. Rick raised his arm and the strap came down hard on Greta's ass once again. She shrieked into the ball as David said, "Now, ask me. Beg me to allow you to cum. And you had better make it good Greta."

She raised her head, tears still in her eyes as another strap smacked against her tortured ass. But as each strike landed the stinging went straight to her soaked pussy. She could not stop herself as another spank hit her and said it. Begged him. Around the ball he could probably not make out much of what she was saying, but he understood that she was giving in, surrendering to his command. "Pmmmmllllssss," Pmmmmlllsss mmmmttt mmmmm ggguuuuummmm." She begged over and over again. Using all of her energy to try and hold back the orgasm that was pounding at her core.

She could not believe that she had been reduced to this state. That she had so little control. And as David finally relented and nodded to her, she realized that in some very large way, the gigantic climax she was just starting to experience was made more intense by that total lack of control.

One final smack and she screamed into the ball as her body shook on that table. "GGGGNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAA" over and over and over her body clenched and strained and released and then another wave coursed through her and the strain started all over again. She thrashed her hips back and forth against the strap and the plug that would not stop and give her a break. They were going to make her cum to death she thought as the orgasm continued, suddenly heightened again by Rick returning to smacking her ass with the strap. Every time she pushed back into the plug in ecstasy, Rick smacked her exposed ass. They went back and forth for several minutes, or for an hour. She could no longer tell.

Then, just like before, it stopped. Just stopped. No vibration, no strap. Not because of her, but because that is what they wanted. All of them quiet now, watching her, expressions of shock on their faces, listening to her come down.

Finally, after a long silence, Bree breathed out "wwwoww." Then another period of silence

"I have never seen anyone cum so hard for so long in my entire life." She looked over to her husband, "Babe, I am so hot right now. You have got to take me upstairs and fuck me," and she stood up and pulled him with her.

David had already left the room and only Karen and Rick remained. "I told you she liked it," she said to Rick as she stood up, gathering the chain and pulling Greta roughly off the table. "Come on honey," she said, "back to your spot."

Greta stood weakly and mindlessly followed her. Once the chain was locked to the floor again, the two of them left the room as well, leaving Greta alone, exhausted and in a state of shock. She lay down onto the floor and curled up into a ball, passing out the instant she closed her eyes.

"Greta," she heard whispered into her ear. "Grettttaaa," again, softly as someone stroked her head. She blinked her eyes open, looked up and Bree was there. 'thank god' she thought. It could have been Rick with the strap again

She mumbled through the gag, more drool added to the puddle she was already laying in. Bree said, "Come on, time to get up. You have a very special visitor today. You need to get cleaned up and ready."

Greta could not quite comprehend, and the unpleasant realization of her situation every time she woke up was breaking her. Horrible to wake up to a chain and a collar, and a very sore ass. She struggled up, avoiding a sitting position so as to not have her bottom touch the floor. She got up on her knees as Bree unlocked her chain from the floor. She stood up onto her feet unsteady.

Bree held the end of her chain, looking at her, with sympathy and something else. "You know the drill Greta," she said softly. "You behave and things will not get much worse. I am going to take your gag off, then take you to the bathroom where you are going to shower and shave and do any other business you might need. Ok?"

Greta nodded sullenly. Waiting for her master to release her a little. Bree reached around her head, her face close to Greta, leaning in to nuzzle her neck a little as she pulled on the straps. The ball came out of her mouth with a pop and she could see that it was disgusting. She also realized that after having her mouth forced open for so long, that her jaw hurt like hell and she could barely close her mouth. She stood there, staring at Bree with her mouth wide open and her tongue halfway out.

"That's alright Greta. It will close. Just relax your jaw muscles." She smiled a bit, "but do not say anything. Not a word, ok? Just stay quiet and it will be ok."

As she had suspected and Dave had implied, Bree had been here before. "I was in your place once. I know all about this punishment. And I made it through and I am not anywhere near as tough as you. You will be fine, but just learn from it. I had an affair. I will not do that again."

She led her from the room and toward the bathroom down the hall. "I cannot leave you alone, but I will leave the door open and sit out here in the hall, so you have a little privacy." She smiled at her as she motioned Greta into the room. "Hold it," she chimed as Greta walked past her and into the room. Greta stopped and waited.

"Myyyy. Your back side is red. I'll get some lotion for it after your shower. But first I need to take this off," looking down at the belt around her waist. She reached into her pocket, produced a small key and unlocked the clasp of the belt. Once the belt part was unhitched, the straps running between her legs and the plug that was still pressed against her pulled away. Slowly pealing from her skin.

Greta could not help but look down to it. There was about 3 or 4 inches of blue plastic that had been up inside of her, and a wide head that covered the entire area, and a small black polished nub that had been positioned on her clit. Some torture device she thought. It was a soaked mess. She had cum all over the thing.

Bree looked at her as the contraption hit the floor. "You need to clean that up before you put it back on after your shower."

'Back on?' Greta deflated. She hoped this was coming to an end. But clearly that was not going to be the case. And as much as she wanted this to be over and her have revenge against that bastard Rick, another part of her was still reeling from the intensity of the orgasm she had experienced. It might have changed her brain chemistry, because the urge to fight was transformed into the urge to comply and get another orgasm like that.

She reached down and picked up the disgusting mess, rubbed herself a little and shuffled to the shower. She did as instructed. She cleaned herself, she shaved herself, she took care of her other needs, and all the while the door was open and Bree was a foot away, holding the other end of her chain.

"All done?" Bree said, peeking her head around the corner. Greta began to say something and Bree immediately shushed her. "Quiet Greta. You are not to speak. If that bastard Rick hears you, it's back onto the table. Understood?"

Greta nodded.

"Ok, I have some lotion for you. Put your hands on the counter and bend over a little and I will see if we can help your skin recover. We would not want a scar on such a beautiful little behind.," she said smiling into the reflection of the mirror at Greta.

Hands on the counter, Greta felt Bree slowly, almost sensuously rub lotion on her burning hot butt. The sensation was an amazing contrast and allowed her to relax for the first time in a couple of days. "You like that?" she asked.

Greta nodded again.

"Me too," Bree said absent minded, her eyes focused on Greta's ass, her fingers tracing the shape of her, a finger ever so lightly slipping up between her cheeks to touch her sensitive parts.

Bree looked up into the mirror as Greta stared back at her. She just smiled, patted Greta's behind gently and said, "ok, that is starting to look better. But break time is over so you have to get back out to your floor now." She looked around the bathroom and saw the belt and gag hanging on a towel bar next to the shower. They looked clean and reasonably dry. "Good," she mumbled as she walked over to the bar, grabbed them both and handed them to Greta.

Greta reached out to take them without thinking and began slipping the belt and straps up around her. She looked up at Bree as she got to the plug part and hesitated. "Go on," Bree softly said. "Slide it on in."

Greta spread her legs a little, thinking it was going to be difficult, but it turned out she was still wet down there, so the end of it slipped in without any resistance. How could she still be wet? How could any of this be arousing?

Greta pulled the straps up and tight and Bree locked the latch. The gag went into her mouth, suddenly not such a big deal and was locked into place as well. Bree turned and walked out of the room pulling the chain and Greta by the neck with her and into the living room where the group had reassembled. But there was an added person, and her heart nearly stopped.

Timothy. The young man she had humiliated was sitting on her couch, right beside Rick. "shhhmmmttt" she mumbled through the gag and lowered her eyes. A new level of humiliation arrived. Standing naked and chained, a collar around her neck, in front of a boy she ruthlessly dominated just a few days before. He looked uncomfortable with the situation, which was good. But it was clear that Rick was pouring poison into his ear.

"This is Tim, " Dave said evenly. "You might remember him, as he is the reason we are all here. It took some time to find him and then convince him into coming here. But once he got the idea of what we had planned, he became quite motivated. Eager even."

"He told us what your affair with him entailed. In detail. I have to say Greta, I had no idea. You clearly have a kink. Which is good. But abusing this young man behind my back was not the way to work through it. I hope you are starting to understand that."

"So, we all thought about it and figure that turnabout is fair play and a lesson well learned." He smiled a little as he said this, finally starting to look more like her husband.

"But before Tim starts, Bree has made a special request. But, it's up to you. We will let you have agency in this one thing because it's special and not directly related to your punishment. But considering how nice she has been to you throughout all of this, I think you should honor her request." He stopped, looked over to Bree who was fidgeting nervously at the far end of the couch, and said "Bree? Can you ask her?"

Bree hesitated for a while, looking sheepishly at Greta then away, then back several times. "Its true, this is a special request, and you can say no and it will not have any bearing on your treatment here today, but I would like it. And since this is the one chance I am ever going to get to make this request, I feel I would be stupid not to."

Greta stood there, at the end of her chain waiting for Bree to spit out what she wanted. She already knew what she wanted. Bree had never made her attraction a big secret, but she knew that Greta was not gay, or bi, or anything, so she kept it to herself over the years.

"I think you already know, right?" she asked and Greta just stared with a hint of horror on her face.

"This is ridiculous," Rick complained. "Why are you even giving her a choice Bree? Just tell her to do it."

"No," Bree said. "I don't want to force her."

Rick responded quickly, "You are maybe missing the point of this entirely. It's not about giving her a choice. She had a choice, and chose very, very badly. Now she is learning that bad choices have consequences." He looked toward the group, particularly Karen, waiting for some kind of consensus. There were a few whispered words between the three on the couch, none of which Greta could hear. It did not matter really as it was pretty clear that she was going to do what she was told in the end anyways. But there was no way she was going to go down on her friend without being forced. Without some resistance, no matter how futile. She had never fucked a woman in her life, and had no interest. But she was going to end up with her tongue on Bree's cunt. She knew it. That's what this was all about. They said she had agency, but she didn't really.

There was some nodding and Rick said behind her, "Get down on your knees Greta."

She hesitated. And in the split second before she could do anything the strap came down on her bare ass. The pain caused her knees to buckle a little, her backside forced out, and another slap came down on it within that instant. She immediately went down onto her knees. The pain of the new spanks, on top of the soreness from before made the experience unbelievable. As she prepared herself for the next one, there was a pause.

Tears streamed down her face. Greta did not say anything, but pointed to the ball gag and blinked. They were managing to break her. She had never done anything with a woman, but now apparently would do so that they would stop punishing her. And Bree was actually so nice and kind, and really beautiful that she figured she could manage to do what she wanted and not feel bad about it.

Bree smiled from ear to ear, hopped up from the couch and unlocked the gag, allowing Greta to remove and hand it to her. "You won't regret this," she whispered to her as she tossed the gag back toward the group. She pulled one of the chairs into Greta's area and turned around to face her and the group. She began unbuttoning her jeans and slid them down to her ankles, pulling them off the rest of the way with her feet. She then hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties and pulled them down as well, flinging them with her foot to the group. Once naked from the waist down she sat back into the chair, sliding her ass to the very edge and spreading her legs wide.

What Greta could see from her new position, inches away from Bree, was that she must have recently been fucked as her pussy was quite open, her lips extended and swollen and there was a small flow of what looked like semen running from her gaping pussy all the way down to her ass. Greta hesitated, knowing that she would be licking Bree's husband's cum if she did this. The whole thing was disgusting.

But the group would have no part of that. She could hear the voices behind her encouraging Rick to make her get on with it. "Make her, Rick," one of them shouted. "Make her do it."

On her knees, hands on the floor in front of her, her behind as tucked in as much as she could make it in this position, Greta knew that he was right above her with that strap, and that he was going to beat her with it, and that she would eventually give in. Before she could work through that all, and act upon the inevitable, Rick proceeded to make her do it. Slaps from the strap fell on her ass and back so quickly all she could do is scream as the pain overwhelmed her. It seemed that he liked the fact that the gag had been removed and the sounds of her agony were no longer muffled. The more she reacted, the faster he went.

And within that pain and humiliation, there was the same arousal she had felt yesterday. The belt and plug were vibrating right on her clit again, and that combined with the punishment, and knowing she was about to be forced to lick her friends cunt, brought her right to the edge of another orgasm. Even as she felt the sensations, she cursed herself for finding this experience so erotic and stimulating. 'What the fuck is wrong with me' she yelled at herself in anguish.

And then, once again, it all stopped.

She whimpered and lowered her face down to Bree's perfectly smooth pussy. "Good," Rick said from above. She looked up at the vagina's owner, but Bree's expression was as though in a trance, looking back at her through narrowed glazed eyes, her mouth already open and panting. She had been so caring throughout this entire thing, but she clearly wanted this to happen and was ok with forcing Greta to do it.

Rick shuffled behind her as her tongue made light contact for the first time with Bree's cunt. Greta could taste sex and semen and god knows what else in that first lick. She nearly gaged, but controlled it, knowing that would be considered some kind of resistance.

As Greta gave her the first lick, Bree let out a long, deep moan and pushed her butt off the chair, raising her pussy to Greta's mouth. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," she groaned, grabbing the back of Greta's head with both hands and gently holding her there in contact with her. "Ohhhhhh my Greta. That looks and feels amazing." Her grip relaxed, expecting Greta to submit to this on her own.

Greta leaned in closer to put her entire mouth onto Bree's pussy, continuing the long licks and then quickly sliding her finger up and into Bree's open pussy several knuckles deep. Bree moaned and continued panting and wriggling. "Is that alright?" Greta asked her quietly, but not quiet enough. The words shocked Bree out of her rapture, causing her to give Greta a frown and lifted a finger to her lips to shush her. But it was too late. The others had heard her and the bastard still behind her, watching her lick pussy against her will.

He shouted "You are not to say anything Greta." She flinched as she heard the strap being drawn again, hoping that it was just a threat. It was not, and the sound and the pain of the strap landing on her ass caused her to cry out, her face muffled by being planted up in Bree's pussy. "Quiet," she could hear shouted above her by the asshole Rick, followed by two more slaps against her exposed backside.

She began furiously licking Bree's cunt, hoping that he would see her eager compliance and stop hitting her. It seemed to work as he stopped and just watched as she rubbed her face all over Bree's soaked pussy, panting into her, smelling the sex of her friend.

Another spank did not come, and Bree eventually stopped staring daggers at the moron that interrupted her oncoming orgasm, looked down to Greta, smiled and nodded. She then stroked Greta's hair and settled back in to having her pussy licked by one of the most beautiful women she had ever met. It kind of did not matter to Bree that she was not doing it of her own volition. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, it was actually more exciting this way. Something she had dreamed about for years. A kind of dominance she had learned from the fucking men.

On occasion Bree would raise her legs up to her chest, presenting her ass to Greta. "Lick me," she moaned as Greta, having no choice any more, slid her tongue down to Bree's tiny puckered hole, tracing around the rim, then sliding the tip of her tongue in half an inch.. Each time she did this Bree would groan so loudly, making it clear to the group that Greta had her tongue in Bree's ass.

Greta worked on her for over half an hour. The woman appeared to want this done to her forever. She had no intention of cuming. Greta drew upon her own experience to try and finish the job., alternating slow and sensuous with fast and penetrating, sliding in fingers and tongues, pulling on the lips with her teeth, and really anything she could think of that would keep Bree happy, while leading her to an orgasm. By the end of the half hour, Bree was a quivering mess, wriggling and moaning. All in front of her husband and friends. She apparently did not have any kind of modesty.

The orgasm, when it finally came, was a flood of sex juice onto Greta's face and chest. She actually squirted on her while thrusting her pussy up and down on Greta's mouth. It went on for a while and Greta did what she was supposed to do for the entire time. Stayed there and let Bree fuck her face.

The experience was something Greta had not anticipated. It was not her thing, that was for sure, but she clearly excelled at it, and took some pride in making Bree cum that hard. At least she would not get spanked because of this.

Bree's eyes finally opened and looked down to Greta, who was still kneeling in front of her, looking up, glistening. "That.... was absolutely amazing." A small smile formed on Greta's face in spite of her desire not to enjoy the compliment. She could not help it, and she realized that someone had turned the plug in her back on at a very low rate. It made her tingle.

People got up, moved around, got drinks. Bree eventually got up as well and pulled up her jeans, not bothering with the panties, patted Greta on the head again and walked very slowly over to her husband with the widest smile she had ever managed in her life. She sat down with a deep, contented sigh.

Greta stayed where she was at on the floor, her face and chest covered in Bree's cum, waiting, dripping. She knew that getting up without instructions was going to lead to another session with fucking Rick. She was done with that. She would just go along from here on out and take it. Waiting for it to all be over and herself finally forgiven.

She had nearly forgotten about Timothy. He was still in the room, having watched her forced into performing oral sex on a woman. Her humiliation must be very satisfying to him. But she did not dare look, she just knelt there and kept her head down.

The activity around her went on for a long time until her husband finally spoke. "I think you are almost there Greta. I think you are seeing that what you did was a mistake. But there is one more obvious requirement of your punishment that you need to submit to." He stopped talking for a minute, got up, walked over to the floor near her and picked up the gag. Handing it to her, she reached out and took it, put the gag into her mouth and pulled the straps around without instruction.

As she did it, the realization of how obedient she had become was very clear. She did it out of fear for certain, but also out of respect, or something. She could not quite tell. But the impulse to please was suddenly very powerful. It was probably just a syndrome of having all of your agency taken away. Or it was that she did not have to be responsible anymore. It was all a mangled mess inside her mind.

David locked the gag into place and pulled her by the collar over to the hoop in the floor. She crawled, following him over to the spot and he pulled her down, link after link, eventually her head down to the floor, the link at the collar aligned with the hoop on the floor. The lock went in and she was face down on the floor. She could feel him cuffing a 2 foot bar between her ankles, restraining and separating her legs apart. Then he placed a cuff on each wrist and pulled each hand and arm between her parted legs, attaching the wrists to the bar. So, when she was finally bound, she was as bent over and exposed as was humanly possible. It was the single most vulnerable position she could imagine. Every sensitive part of her was exposed and open, to whatever they had in mind.

They left her like this for a very long time, bound there with her fears and the slight vibration of her plug. With her expectation of more punishment, her mind ran wild with the possibilities of what they planned, making up more terrible activities as the time continued. The pressure of her own mind became nearly unbearable.

Her head plastered to the floor, she could not see the room very well, but she had turned her head to the group, and could see them talking quietly to Timothy. He looked shell shocked. Having been exposed to so much he was not expecting, and not really having the option to run away. Or did he not want to run. Did he want to see her humiliated like this? Did he feel it was a kind of justice after what she had done to him? Did he intend to take his revenge?

Up until this point, Greta felt that she had some options, that she could fight if she needed and maybe get herself out of this situation. But now, bound by both the restraints and her own mind, she was helpless. Helpless for the first time in her life. And it brought on feelings that she had never known the depth of.

The answer to her fears became frighteningly clear as the group sat down and Timothy remained standing, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them to the floor. Greta groaned into her ball gag at the sight of his very erect cock springing free of his boxers. When she had seen him in the hotel room, she did not think much of it. But now, here, on the floor it looked absolutely huge and menacing.

"He told us all about it Greta," her husband said. "And all of us think that your final punishment is true justice. He is going to take you the same way. And we are making him treat you with the same lack of respect that you visited upon him. Maybe even more"

The plug now seemed to be set on some kind of random sequence because at one moment there would be nothing, at another there would be a low and pleasing vibration and occasionally, it would spike and send a powerful and painful stimulation right onto her clit, causing her to clench up with a start. She could not ever get in front of it. Again, it was another sign that she was not the one in control.

She could hear Rick laughing and saying she looked like a puppet on a string.

The strange stimulations were suddenly no longer a concern as Timothy walked all the way around her, inspecting his captured beauty, finally ending up behind her where she could not see him. She could see the TV if she bent the right way, and the camera was located behind her and to the side a little, so that she could see her backside spread and exposed and she could see Timothy massaging his cock, staring at her ass. Just like she might have done to him, studying her conquest.

He had a bottle of lubricant that he had begun to dribble onto her, up her back, around her sore, red cheeks and onto her tight little hole. Anal was just not something that she had done for a very long time. She had tried it a few times when she was just learning how to do these things, but she avoided it later in life. She felt that it was demeaning to her, she was too important to be anyone's anal plaything, and it hurt. This boy was going to do something that she had refused to more than a few men. She had always refused her husband's requests.

Timothy stood above her for a rather long time, enjoying the vision of Greta's surrender. But the group was becoming impatient and egged him on. Particularly Karen, who she could hear saying to him, "Come on Timothy, take that big cock of yours and shove it into her ass. Make her feel it. Make her feel sorry for what she did to you. For what she did to David, and her children, and everyone else she knows." She paused. "Come on baby. Do it for all of us."

There was some general talking going on after that, but she could not really focus on it because Timothy had begun rubbing the outside of her hole with his lubricated finger, running around the rim and then slipping into her little by little. It was almost gentle at first, then his approach changed and he shoved the entire lengths of his index finger into her, causing her to yelp around the ball gag so that it sounded like she enjoyed it.

"She likes that too," Karen squealed from the couch. "My goddddd. What a slut."

As they yammered, Greta tried her best to get used to the finger shoved all the way up into her. It was so incredibly intrusive, so personal, so humiliating to be treated this way. And as though on queue, the low vibration returned, so that as much as she felt degraded, she was also now aroused. She absolutely hated them for showing her this part of herself.

The finger began to move in and out, picking up pace until Rick yelled, "That's it boy. Get it into her," with a maniacal glee.' Fucking pervert' Greta thought as she fought to keep herself relaxed back there.

He continued treating her this way for another minute and then abruptly pulled the finger out. She froze for fear of what was coming next. A small muffled groan escaping her mouth. The fear forced her to try and swing her head around so that she could tell what was going on, but the limits of her range prevented her from getting any kind of a clear view of him. Only the view on the TV. And the view on the TV showed that he was massaging his cock with the lubricant and lowering himself down onto his knees. She closed her eyes.

For his part, Timothy could not believe how this had worked out. Like every other man in the world, he wanted to fuck Greta. And he did have a particular interest in her ass. It was so perfectly shaped and looking down onto it now he could see the little hole puckered and just ever so slightly open, as though inviting him to put something larger than his finger in.

He wished that the other people in the room would go away and leave him to it, but that appeared to be part of the tradeoff in getting to do this. It was worth it. Greta trapped and bound, her eyes wild with panic and fear about what he was going to do to her. His balls were so tight to his body, so ready to cum, that he worried he might go all over her back without ever getting inside her.

He gripped his cock tight, trying to delay the inevitable, and lined it up onto her hole.

The next sensation Greta felt was a whole lot of pressure on her butt, combined with an increase in the vibration. As much as she tried, she could not relax back there and just let him in. There was pain there, so her body fought it, and that was a bad idea. He was not going to go away until that thing was planted in her, and if she fought it, it was likely that Rick would be spanking her ass with the strap, and in the end, she still would have to let Timothy in.

Timothy kept pushing, the pressure building back there, the pain growing as the muscles of her ring were slowly being forced apart. After several minutes of this, the group yelling and advising about how he needed to just shove it in there, that she had not been all that careful with him, and so on. Amongst all of that, it happened. The ring finally gave way and the head of Timothy's cock popped into her ass, taking several inches before he held it back. Greta screamed into the ball as the shock and pain overwhelmed her. "AAAAgggghhhhhhh."

He stopped like that, his thick cock 2 or 3 inches into her and waited. Greta panted around the ball, her whole world focused on the pain in her ass. She had never felt so helpless in her life. Her body was not her own at this point. It was Timothy and the group who owned it. She felt so violated, so stretched. It was totally different, Complete submission. And in that submission, she thought with absolute clarity, 'I deserve this'.

Apparently, Timothy had been coached by the asshole, because as he rested there, enjoying how his cock felt within the tightness of her ass, he began to tentatively slap her exposed cheeks. That apparently was not enough as the group encouraged him; he began to spank her much harder with his open hand. Loud, stinging smacks echoed around the now silent room as the entire group focused on her punishment.

They were not wrong about her. The pain of the spanking, combined with the pain of her stretched ass and the low level vibration of the plug on her clit made her groan with an unwanted pleasure that she could not explain. Someone in the group laughed at her, but Timothy seemed to take it as an ok to proceed. He might be simply too modest and nice for this role, but having a chance to fuck Greta in her ass was not something that any man was going to walk away from. He pulled his cock back an inch or so then pushed further into her another 3. After that he began to rhythmically fuck her, occasionally slapping her ass hard with one hand or the other.

After a few minutes of this more aggressive effort, he was all the way into her, his balls smacking against her, his hips hitting her ass, stopping any further penetration. She had the entire thing up there, and was not dead yet. She could do this she thought. She thought that until he abruptly pulled it all the way out, rubbed it, and then shoved it all of the way back in. The shock was terrible, and she clenched and fought and then forced herself to relax, finally just allowing him to do that over and over again. The TV screen showing how her ass gaped each time he pulled out, slowly started to close up and then the cock pushed back in. She looked away, concentrating on relaxing, of separating herself from the body that boy was abusing.

Fiercely aroused, but not able to come even close to climaxing, she submitted. She did not fight the punishment. She did not enjoy it either. She just accepted it. And in that moment another thing became clear. There was something about submission, about putting someone else in charge of everything that she had never understood.

Timothy's pace picked up, and the force of his thrusts became more and more powerful, shoving her forward so that her neck twisted against her collar bolted to the floor. At moments she could barely breathe, her throat constricted by the pressure of the collar and her mouth full of spit and the damn ball. He would pull back and she would gasp in a gulp of air, struggling for a breath, then exhale as he buried it back into her. She felt like she was going to pass out, or choke, uselessly thinking someone would see her struggling and get some control over Timothy. But none of them cared, and he just kept pounding her, the pace picking up somehow.

From his moaning, Greta could tell he was close. After another minute he began shouting, "I'm going to cum," over and over, grabbing her hips and finally planting himself as far into her as possible. She could not feel his orgasm, but she knew he was filling her ass with it. She could look back down between her legs and see literal spurts of semen flow out of her ass, around his cock and onto the floor.

Once he was done, she waited, finally able to catch her breath. There were comments and compliments from the group to Timothy, but he did not respond. She could hear him up there breathing deeply, his cock still hard within her, his fingers still digging into her hips, holding her tight.

This went on for maybe five minutes, Greta expecting and hoping he would pull it out of her at any moment. But that is not what was happening. It was fucking Karen who noticed first. "Oh my god..... He is going to fuck her again," Laughing, "What a good boy!"

He started to pump it in and out again, slowly, but all the way. Greta just groaned. She mumbled through her gag that he was an absolute bastard, but no one could understand, nor did they care. What they were happy about was that her punishment was going to have another round. And this one might last even longer.

It did. After what seemed like an hour of it, her body in agony from the position she had been held in for so long, she begged. She literally began begging for him to stop. Not one word of it was intelligible to anyone but her. And that fact made her begging even more pathetic. She no longer had to try to relax. Whatever sensation or sensitivity she had felt at first, that caused her to tighten up back there, was completely broken. He was able to pound away at her ass without any resistance on her part.

Greta's complete submission seemed to not work for him, or the group, so they encouraged him to spank her along the way, which he did, much to everyone's delight. The pain of the spanking and the increasing vibration worked together to awaken her arousal. She knew it would be horrible to cum while being treated this way, but she could tell that it was going to happen, and she was not in control of it. At one point she actually pushed back at him, fucking him back. Karen, of course, did not miss this for a second. "Look!" she screamed, "she just fucked him back. She is going to cum. Damn, what a fucking slut."

Timothy, now feeling her acceptance and hearing the encouragement, stroked all the way in and out a few more times and then held her ass tight to him as he began to orgasm again. The timing was perfect unfortunately as she was at a rhythmic high point, and as he held her, pushing down on the vibrating plug, the unwanted orgasm wracked her body as she fought against the restraints, every fiber of her body straining against the power of her orgasm.

The living room went silent again as they all stared in shock at her. This was supposed to be punishment, but the bitch turned it into her own orgasm. "What the fuck?" Karen exclaimed. The noise of the group complaining and commenting went on as Greta's consciousness faded. The position she had been held in, her head down to the floor, combined with the power of the orgasm had flooded her brain with blood, making her light headed and delirious. Both she and Timothy went silent and still, panting, drool once again coating the floor around where her head was fixed.

Timothy eventually pulled out of her, his skinny legs carrying him to the bathroom presumably to wash his ass soaked cock. Greta had no choice but stay as she had been, her ass still gaping from the pounding Timothy gave her, his cum leaking out and onto the floor in another puddle. She could see it all on the TV., as well as the group staring at her. She wanted to flop over, but the restraints just kept her there in place, head plastered to the floor, ass strait up in the air. She had no choice but to wait as her hole slowly closed up.

After a few minutes the group began to break up and move around. Finally, David came over and began unlocking her, The restraints on her ankles and wrists were removed, then the lock that held her collar to the floor, then finally the ball gag and the belt. When he had removed the last bond, she rolled over into the fetal position and faded. Almost a dreamlike state, but with some minimal awareness of the comings and goings of them all. After half an hour, they all seemed to have left the house, including David. She was alone and unrestrained for the first time in days. The camera had been removed as well she noticed. Privacy was a new experience.

She had bent to their will. She had been changed. She had no idea what she was going to do for the first time in 20 years. 'the basics' she thought to herself and crawled to the water and food that had been left for her. After that she was going to call David and beg for his forgiveness.