Everything in her mind had told her not to do it, but every ounce of her soul begged for it and every bit of her primal instinct cried out for it. Her lusts had become untamed and her desire for the power staggering. Something in her Mistresses' eyes had overwhelmed her. On hands and knees crawling, yes, crawling! The concrete cold and harsh on her petal soft skin as she followed, hands and knees growing raw and sensitive. Tara naked, shamed, lead on a leash dog like by her Mistress down a dark, blank corridor. She struggled with the pace, first too slow - “Hurry up bitch!” - a hard jerk on the chain, choking her; then too fast colliding into her Mistress - “Disobedient little cur!” - bright light in her head a burning sting on her cheek, which rocketed through her entire head. Tara, frightened and aroused, aroused by her fear and the sexual tension of her coming initiation. Oh, the insanity of what she desired and had subjected herself to! She could feel her heart racing - thump, thump - in her chest, the sound of her breathing, labored; the clickity-clack, of her Mistresses boots as she made stride along the floor. Her body was charged with the thought of violation and the gray chill pin pricking her flesh.
  Taboo, sin, violation, “I want it all!” she thought to herself, going back to the end of her innocence only a few nights before. Her abandon was absolutely hopeless as she had given up everything to taste his flesh and her flesh, felt first tongue then member press to and then through her. Gave up trying to figure out what, only left with the most base of instinct and desires and her pussy grew moist with excitement from memory.
  A firm jerk, “Stop dawdling, bitch!” crashing back to now, forget then, this is only better. Still on all fours, following obediently her Mistress. Cannot see a damn thing, I know she's there. Can feel her skin on mine, see her deep green eyes swallowing my soul. Almost hypnotized by that gaze, that touch, her scent, I cannot control myself, I must have it again no matter the price. Have to keep pace, must submit to my Mistress. Tara felt her memory lingering, the anticipation of what was to be. She followed closely her Mistress now, not wanting to feel her scorn again.
  “Sit your ass down, don't move. Submit” she was ordered. The leather on the couch cold, soft against her skin and caused her to involuntarily stiffen. Relax, let go, release she reminded herself, pushing slightly into the couch so large that it seemed to swallow her.
  She didn't see her Mistress leave, but could feel her absence from the room, yet still entranced she remained obedient. Looked out across the room, dim, but warmed by cast iron candle stands and soft, distant flame. She felt the company of others, but saw only still black curtains, satin, or velvet, perhaps, yes velvet. Tara could hear breathing and clamoring echoing around her, but no movement, yet the excitement was thick. Hers alone? Or others as well? No way of knowing. Give up, give in, give all she thought and sat for several minutes in her silence, waiting.
  “Let the Initiation begin!” her Mistresses' voice echoed all around her. Tara's skin leapt with an electric charge, flesh tingling goose bumped with desire, heart pumping in apprehensive delirium. At first, nothing. Quiet. Stillness. She became aware of a warm, soft hand on her thigh, exploring. As the hand moved along her flesh it was not as though she were being touched by another, it felt as though it were an extension of herself, gliding gracefully, knowing how she liked to be handled. Another hand touched her breast, then another, and another. Hands suddenly covering her, seemingly disembodied, she could see no one. Following the hand that moved up her thigh she noticed awkward holes no bigger than a man's fist in the couch and from these holes jutted out arms from bodies somewhere beneath and behind her. Hands of all types upon her, some distinctly coarse and masculine, other small, soft and feminine and nails painted black and red with polish, gently scraping against her. Every touch exploring her, testing, challenging her, so many hands, so many sensations. Her skin tingled with waves of new awareness, pin pricked and electric, chasing over and across her. The fleshy folds of her sex spread and caressed, bottom to top and back, then rolling her clit. A surge of pleasure rolled out of her with the finger's first delicate penetration. Her stomach, concave heaving, stroked nipples erect, hard under a hard hand, male, fingernails formed sharp, painted matte, fingers twisting down her neck. Hands exiting reappearing elsewhere, from who, yet more, another? Perhaps only three pair or maybe a dozen or a hundred, springing up from new angles and unseen holes, each touch a surprising violation, welcomed and wanted. Hands reaching desperately for her. Instinctively, Tara's being tried to indulge them all. Her feet swung up from the floor and on to the couch as she offered herself, prone on all fours, to each of her unseen lovers.
  More fingers pushed deep into her, three, then four an entire hand, a fist, jolting her hard. Tara felt the pressure, and rocked her hips against each thrust, deeper, deeper and harder, insistent. Faster, harder, rougher, the rite built. Hands grappled and pawed callously, increasing the tempo. Tara felt them forcing her still, hands pinning her ankles and wrists tight against the leather until she was completely subdued and helpless to their whims. Instinctively she struggled against them and they in turn became more savage, pinching her, fingernails raking her skin, drawing blood. Tara's eyes began to tear, from pleasure, from pain, from fear and debasement. She felt years of oppression and guilt fall from her. Her skin began to tingle again, as though it were new and hyper-sensitive. A large hand extended out and reached behind her head, pinning her face against the cold, sweat soaked leather. Another hand reached for her throat, choking her, cutting off life giving oxygen and blood. I'm going to die she thought to herself, and didn't care. A warmth within her turned into a burning of delight which traveled to every inch of her body. The hands continued raking, raping and pleasuring her. Submit! Give in to it! Give all! Her mind swirled as she tried to imagine the bodies and faces of each hand, wanting each of them, wanting to lick, fuck and suck them all to return the pleasure. Her chest heaving, she pushed her body into their grasp, sucked the fingers of one touching her face, constricted the muscles in her pussy to hold tight the hand slipping in and out of her. A charge shot through her as a finger penetrated her ass, she felt the warm fluid of her excitement seep out of her, could smell it mingling with the sweat and blood which covered her lithe body. Tara's body jerked and erupted with orgasm, head spun as her body twitched involuntarily everything fading in and out finally gasping and going black...