Mr Sadistic

Sophia was nervous. The soft skin on her arms had bumped up in goosebumps. Fear riding her body like a well trained jockey.

Y had set up his camera and then retreated into the shadows to the bar. The sound of ice being dropped into a glass, sharp in the room.

"Stand up!" the voice ripped through the silence making her jump. But she followed the instruction given by Z.

He stood. Entering the light and revealing himself.  He was gorgeous.  Short cropped hair, dark eyes, light stubble and a body men would kill for.

He continued into the middle of the room and took his place behind the tripod.  A shiver ran through Sophia's small body. She knew he was about to play director.

He looked at her with a sinister smirk before relaying his next order. "Face the camera."

She did so slowly.  Her body moving at a pace seen in movies. When the victim has heard a suspicious noise behind them.

"Take off your clothes."

She gulped loudly in the otherwise quiet room. She wasn't ready. But the need to keep her husband was strong. She reached her trembling hands to the button of her collar and attempted to undo the plastic circle.

Her hands shook too much. She wasn't left long when X came to her rescue. "Aww babe. Let me help you."

From behind he moves her chocolate silken hair to find her smooth neck, and his lips find her pleasure spot. He releases the first four buttons of her shirt and slides his hand to finger the Lace of her bra.

Soon enough, she whimpers. His mouth and fingers turning her fear to lust. They all know she'll be more compliant now. But that's not what they all want.

"Johnny!"  Sophia's head shoots up in shock to find the deep authoritative voice. It's Y. Stepping from the bar, whisky in hand. "Stop pissing about with her. Let Malik have his fun. You'll get yours."

Johnny, also known as X stuck his bottom lip out in an immature gesture then retreated back to the sofa.

The nerves returned quickly for her. It wasn't so bad with Johnny. He helped ease her. Forget where she was. What she was doing. She knew without a doubt, Malik would make her suffer. In any shape or form.

There was a change in air as soon as he retrieved control. It was charged. Static. "Strip."

Once again she obeyed. Looking into the camera lense like a lamb to the slaughter.

After shedding her shirt, she undid the button of her trousers and let them fall to the floor in heap of shame.

"Stop." Malik called out. She released a breath of gratitude.  He's going to let her get dressed again.

She had no idea how wrong she was.

"Give us a twirl. Let us see what kind of slut we're working with."

She turns in a small circle, showing her three viewers what kind of body she has. She knows she has a decent body. Hourglass figure, 34 C cup breasts. A decent round bottom. But she still wore the humiliation like a glove.

"Dance for us while you remove your underwear."

Her cheeks blazed, turning red with embarrassment. "But-"

"Don't fucking speak unless I tell you to!" He roared. Her fear spiked, and her inner submission took a step closer to the surface.

She rocks her hips to an imaginary beat while taking her arms behind her back. Before she can unclasp her bra he speaks again. "I don't like this song. Next one!"

She stands still. Eyes wide. She doesn't understand what he means,  they haven't put any music on. "Dance!"

She continues at a slower pace than before.  He laughs at her confusion and her eyes tear up. She's naked now and she stands looking at the camera feeling humiliated and abused.

"Get on your knees whore." She delicately bends her legs and kneels. Her hands placed on her lap modestly. Malik follows her to her position and grabbing her knees spreads her legs, pulls her hands behind her back, and pushes two fingers into her mouth.

"Suck." Sophia sucks the man's fingers eagerly, thinking that maybe if she pleases him, he won't be so harsh with her.

Little did she know Malik already had a plan.  A line.  And he wasn't going to steer from it if he could help it.

Pulling his fingers from her mouth he smothered the saliva over her face.

"Repeat after me. I am a slut."

"I am a slut."

"I am willingly here to please these men. Whatever it may be."

She repeats each and every word, staring into the camera. She knows she's signing her fate.

Malik gets a tight grip on her hair and pulling to her feet he tells her to fuck her pussy with two of her fingers, while telling the camera how she has no morals. What a Filthy fucking whore she is.

She again faces the camera and slowly pushes two fingers into her opening.  Slowly fucking herself for all to see. She sees Johnny is stroking his cock. Malik stands behind the camera.  A manic grin plastered on his face. Y has disappeared and she worries. Where has he gone?

"I said tell your audience what you are. Don't make me force you. And that's not fucking yourself.  You fuck your husband like that? Faster! Harder! Now!"

She complies. Not wanting to make anything harder for herself. She pumps her fingers in and out of her pink shining pussy. Wounded to find she's getting wet. Excitement mixes with her fear, and she's disgusted at the reaction.  

She tries not to show it, but Malik is a pro. He sees it quickly. He can use her shame.

"That's fucking disgusting.  You're enjoying this! You really are a cheap slut. Tell the fucking camera."

"I'm a Filthy whore. I'm willingly here. To please these men. However they want."

She looks above the camera to Malik. What to do next?

"More!" is ordered from him.

Her orgasm is close, and she dreads it. "I love being their slut. Their toy. Whatever they want.  I have no morals. I'm just a cheap slut."

Her orgasm comes then. Her cream covering her fingers. Her legs shaking,  she struggles to stand. She pauses and looks at her instructor.

"What the fuck are you stopping for? Carry on. I don't give a shit that you've come like a cock hungry, come slut.  This is for us. Not you."

With her pussy sensitive from her orgasm she pushes two fingers back inside and thrusts them in and out.

"Faster!"

She kicks the speed up a notch, her eyes watering from holding back a fresh orgasm.

"Harder!"

She pounds herself.  Struggling to keep herself up, on the brink of extreme pleasure.

"Don't come!"

She panics. Her heart racing.  How on earth will she hold back?

"Faster!"

She can't breathe properly. Her moans are loud when Y enters the room with a naked male. He looks scared, nervous. He looks young, around 15 or 16.

He's brought into the room. And instructed to lie on the floor. He does so quickly, before Y pops a blue pill into the young man's mouth. He makes sure he swallows, then ties his ankles spread apart from hooks protruding from the ground.

Sophia watches through blurred vision, holding back her release as the boys wrists are restrained high above his head on the ground stretching his body. His cock growing huge. Hard. Veins pushing against the skin. Then his gag is placed in his mouth. The leather secured around his head.

"Harder!" Malik shouts. "Don't you dare fucking come, slut!"

She fucks herself harder than ever before.  Her tears fall, from the strength being used to hold back. Her body writhing in pleasure.

"Your next task is ready whore. You're going to fuck the boy!"