The Ultimate Submission (Jacqueline's Story)
By Gato Medio

Chapter 18

[Used and Abused]

The address Ramon had given me turned out to be a sports
centre. I had been thinking about what the second phase
might entail and had been nervous all day. In the end I
arrived there well before the appointed hour which gave
me a chance to have a look around.

I recognized Ramon's car amongst the small number of
vehicles parked outside. There were remarkably few cars,
considering the size of the complex. When I entered the
place, I realized why there were so few cars. Most of the
facilities had been temporarily closed down for
renovation. The squash court, the gym and the indoor
swimming pool all showed signs of the workmen having been
in there, stripping walls, removing equipment.

The sounds coming from behind a door marked as 'Main
Hall' indicated that there were people in there, probably
engaged in some kind of game. I opened the door just a
little to allow me to peek inside without being seen. A
five-a-side soccer match was in progress. I managed to
spot Ramon amongst the players. I remembered that he had
told me not to interrupt him. I closed the door quietly
and waited in the corridor, somewhere between the main
hall and the men's changing room.

Shortly after the final whistle, the players came out of
the main hall and went past me into the men's changing
room. Some of them were drenched in sweat, others looked
still quite fresh. Some looked downtrodden, others were
talking cheerfully about their victory. Most of the men
were in Ramon's age range - late twenties to early
thirties - but there were a few who seemed barely twenty
years old.

Particularly these younger men looked at me with
undisguised interest. My attire was conservative by my
own standards. The dress I was wearing disguised the
shape of my body - but it was quite short. It seems that
my bare thighs attracted the men's attention. They
probably would have been even more interested had they
known that I wasn't wearing any panties.

Ramon was the last one to emerge from the main hall. I
could tell from his face that his team had not won the
match. He seemed to be deep in thought, maybe trying to
figure out what went wrong, when he noticed me.

"Hi, Jacqueline, what are you doing here?"

"My name is Cunt, Sir, and I'm here because you told me
so."

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" Ramon said, still sounding
as if his mind was somewhere else. "Come with me."

Ramon opened the door to the changing room and lead me
inside. It was a large L-shaped room. The long part of
the L had lockers and benches along the left wall and a
large number of showers on the right. In the smaller part
of the L, there were several wash basins with mirrors. In
this part I also noticed a billiards table which looked
completely out of place. I assumed that it had been moved
in here while the refurbishing work was under way.

Most of the men were showering, a few had already
finished their shower and were in the process of drying
themselves or getting dressed.

"What's this woman doing in here?" one of them shouted.
This made everybody else look in my direction.

"This isn't a woman, it's a cunt," Ramon replied.

He lead me to the billiards table and made me bend
forward so that the top of my body and my arms rested on
it while my feet were still on the floor. He made me
spread my legs and lifted my dress so that my bottom and
pussy were exposed to anyone who cared to look.

Ramon told me to look straight ahead and not to turn
around, no matter what happened.

"Anybody want some cunt? It's free. Come and get it," he
shouted to the men in the room.

I could hear some mumbling behind me. Someone said, "Is
this some kind of a sick joke?" probably doubting that
Ramon was serious about his invitation. Others were
inclined to believe their luck. "Now that's what I call
generosity!" one of them shouted. The voices came closer.
Several hands touched my bottom. "That's a nice piece of
ass," someone said. Then a hand slipped between the crack
of my bottom and to my pussy. "Gosh, she's really looking
forward to this. Her cunt is sopping wet," the man
exclaimed.

My pussy was in fact dripping wet. The thought that Ramon
had handed me over to these men, to do with me what they
wanted, really turned me on. The hands on my bottom and
pussy had aroused me even more. I was waiting eagerly to
be fucked - something that hadn't happened to me for
almost a month.

The man who had touched my pussy was getting ready to put
his cock where his hand had been. I could feel the head
of his dick pry my pussy lips apart, when someone else
shouted, "Hang on a moment! I think the winning team has
the right to go first."

There was a heated discussion about this claim.

"Nobody told us there was going to be this kind of
reward. Otherwise we'd have played with much more
determination," someone argued.

"Say what you want, you've lost the match. And losers
come last," another one retorted.

In the end, the losing team conceded reluctantly that the
winners had the right to use me first.

"Winner number one going in," the first man announced as
he thrust his cock all the way into my pussy. I cried out
in pain. I was wet, but this sudden, violent attack hurt
nonetheless. This man was fucking me for his satisfaction
and his satisfaction alone. He didn't care whether I
loved or hated this treatment. And it was particularly
this disregard for my feelings that turned me on. I
wanted to be used like a cheap whore.

The man was probably putting on an especially virile
performance to show the others what a fantastic stud he
was. He held my hips in an iron grip and drove his cock
into my pussy with long, forceful strokes. With every
thrust my legs were squeezed against the edge of the
table. His strokes became more urgent as he spasmed and
deposited his seed deep inside my pussy. His orgasm
triggered mine and I let out a deep moan as my juices
mixed with his.

As soon as he vacated my pussy, another man took his
place. "Winner number two going in," he declared. If
anything, the second man was even more violent than the
first one. With each thrust he withdrew his cock
completely and then slammed it back into my pussy,
causing me to scream in agony. My pussy lips were sore
from the persistent onslaught and my vagina felt raw.
"Leave something for the rest of us," one man shouted as
he heard me scream.

If the second man made me suffer like this already, how
would I feel after the two teams were through with me?
"You wanted it rough, didn't you?" I told myself. "You
wanted a dose of pain with your pleasure. There's no
point in complaining now that it hurts."

Fortunately, none of the men was interested in long,
drawn-out sex. They wanted to jerk off, and using me for
this purpose was much more rewarding than using their own
hands. It only took a few minutes for each man to fill me
with his spunk. They no longer announced whether they
were a winner or a loser. As soon as one man was
finished, another one took his place without giving me
any rest. My cries turned into a continuous wail.

I had made it a habit to keep track of the number of
cocks I sucked and the number of pussies I licked. The
same way, I counted the number of men who fucked me. I
stopped counting after I reached eight. Somehow I figured
that, with two teams of five and Ramon not participating
in my gang rape, number nine would be the last one. But
it didn't stop. There were more men than I had expected
and some of them probably came back for a second helping.
They all filled my pussy with their cum until it
overflowed. The jism seeping out of me ran down my
thighs.

"Jeez, this cunt is filthy!" my next attacker exclaimed.
"How can anybody fuck something like this? I'm going to
use the other hole."

My tortured pussy had become used to the continuous abuse
of their frenzied attacks. It still hurt, but the pain
had turned into a dull background sensation that seemed
to be part of my orgasms. When the new attacker rammed
his cock into my unprepared rear, my screams reverberated
through the sports centre. He slammed into me
relentlessly, praising the exquisite tightness of my ass.
Each thrust into my wounded hole made me scream anew.
With a mighty grunt the man released his semen into my
rectum.

My noisy reaction attracted other men to my rear hole,
now slightly lubricated by the first man's cum. They
added to my discomfort, fucking my ass and shooting their
load into my rear hole, until this orifice was also
oozing gunge. One man returned to my pussy, but when he
came he pulled out and sprayed my bottom and the back of
my dress with his cum.

"What did you do that for, dickhead? Look at the mess
you've made," the others complained.

The man who had been next in line to fuck me balked.
"Christ, this ass is slimy. I'm not going to stick my
cock in there." Others, too, lost interest in me. They
called the state of my pussy and ass 'sickening',
'repulsive' and 'disgusting'. I could hear the men return
to their lockers to get dressed. Some had another shower.
Then the place turned as quiet as a cemetery. The only
audible sound was my own sobbing.

I lay still, letting my tears flow freely without holding
back. Those tears were not just caused by the physical
pain I felt. Those men hadn't just hurt my pussy and my
ass, they had hurt my pride. Their actions had shown
clearly that they had no interest in me as a human being,
as a woman. For them I was just a warm-blooded object
with two holes. They had used and abused me mercilessly
and when they had got me into a state where I was too
dirty for their liking, they had dropped me like a hot
potato.

When Ramon had said I was nothing but a cunt, it was
clear from his voice that this was a desperate attempt to
break the spell that indiscriminate sex held over me. He
thought that by confronting me with what my obsession was
doing to me, I would change. Those people hadn't actually
called me a cunt - I realized none of them had bothered
to say a word to me - they had simply treated me like
one. Their actions had been more forceful than words
could be.

Once more it became clear to me that I wouldn't attain
any satisfaction from submitting myself to mindless sex
with complete strangers. Even the most rigorous master
cared for his slave, but these people didn't give a damn
about me.

"They've gone, you can get up now." That was Ramon's
voice. I shuddered at the thought that he had been
present all the time, watching what those people had done
to me. I felt his hands on my shoulders, helping me to
pull my upper body upright. My whole body hurt,
particularly the parts my tormentors had ravished. My
legs were barely able to support my weight.

Ramon took me into his arms, filthy as I was. He kissed
my tear-streaked face. "Go home, Jacqueline, have a rest.
Call me when you have recovered, when you're ready for
the final phase."

I wanted to clean myself, take a shower, but Ramon
insisted that I should leave immediately. I walked with
difficulties. My ass and pussy ached with every step. I
could feel the men's cum trickle out of my holes, running
down my thighs. The smell of the spunk was on my body and
my dress. I couldn't possibly take a bus or hail a taxi
in a state like this. It would be a long and lonely walk.
I had to pause frequently to gather strength. After what
seemed like an eternity, I reached the comfort of my
room. I was glad that Arlette had already left. I
showered and then slumped onto my bed. I would have loved
to have a bathtub where I could soak my punished body in
a soothing bath. But at least I still had a supply of the
ointment the gynaecologist had prescribed me some time
ago.

                         -----

My sleep came in fits and starts. There was a recurrent
dream which woke me frequently. In my dream I lay slumped
on the billiards table with cum oozing out of my pussy
and rear hole. But the table wasn't in the sports centre;
it was in the open air, on a street, a public square, in
a park - it seems that the location changed with each
version of the dream.

People were passing and looking at me. Most of them
remained anonymous, but some I recognized. There was my
father, who said, "This slut is not my daughter." Ramon
looked at me, saying, "You're nothing but a cunt."
Caroline repeated her exclamation, "God, you're a real
slut." Others, whose face I did not see called me 'filthy
cunt', 'slimy ass', 'repulsive', 'disgusting' and
'sickening'. I got up and had another shower to make sure
I was completely clean.

But there were also some positive comments. Ramon said,
"_Vous êtes très jolie_," and, in another scene, "I love
you, Jacqueline." Through a haze I heard Caroline say,
"I've been missing your golden tongue." Marie, Roxy's
maid, joined the group, declaring, "It will be a pleasure
to fuck you, Mademoiselle."

Every time I woke, I tried to understand the meaning of
my dream, but soon I drifted off into sleep again. When
the day broke, I had had very little rest. I was dead
tired and my body was aching all over. Every move of my
legs sent bolts of pain through my raw pussy and ass. I
didn't have the courage to leave my bed. I lay there,
trying to make sense of the events of the last twenty-
four hours - and particularly the feelings I had
experienced and was still experiencing.

My pussy and ass did not belong to me. If it pleased my
master to let others use them whichever way they wanted,
then I should be happy to give him that pleasure. But
this explanation didn't fit what really happened. Ramon
hadn't handed me over to the soccer players for his
gratification. He did it to teach me a lesson. He wanted
me to understand that letting my pussy take control of my
life would get me into trouble, would lead to pain,
injury and humiliation.

I had felt the pain; I was not immune to the abuse my
poor body had suffered. My screams of anguish had been
real and involuntary. My tears had not been faked. But in
spite of the pain this had been a sexually gratifying
experience. I had climaxed every time one of the men
filled me with his spunk, my pussy had creamed from the
rough treatment it experienced. The initial shock over
the rough, inhuman treatment had made me deny that I
experienced pleasure. But now I had to admit to myself
that I actually enjoyed being treated like this. The pain
would pass, my injuries would heal, but the memory of an
evening of wild, satisfying sex would remain.

This was the part which Ramon did not understand: That I
needed pain and suffering to experience complete
fulfilment. With very few exceptions, the most intense
pleasure, the most fulfilling sex had always been
accompanied with pain, discomfort, humiliation. It had
made me go beyond the limits of what I considered
possible, bearable. Telling me that I was just a cunt
would only result in my affirmation, 'Yes, I am, and I
need to be treated like one.'

I had this theory that my desire to mix a measure of pain
into my pleasure was the result of my father's influence.
Although I had rejected his condemnation of anything to
do with sex on a conscious level, maybe I felt
subconsciously that I was committing a terrible crime
when I enjoyed myself. I had developed this urge to
suffer pain or humiliation whenever I indulged my
insatiable appetite for sex. And like an alcoholic
needing larger and larger quantities of hard liquor, I
seemed to need more and more pain to compensate for the
increasing lewdness of my actions, and I seemed to thrive
on being humiliated in the process.

                         -----

Caroline seemed to understand this desire instinctively.
I remembered an episode which happened long before I had
talked to her about my ambition to become Ramon's slave.
That day she had literally dragged me into her bedroom as
soon as I arrived at her apartment. She had flipped me
onto her bed, straddled me, pinned down my arms with her
knees and pushed her pussy into my face. I could see and
smell that she had been fucked only a short while ago.
Remainders of cum were clinging to her skin and pubic
hair. I would soon find out that there was more inside
her vagina.

"Lick," she ordered, "I've kept some for you." I wasn't
shocked - as most other women would have been - by her
demand to perform this unspeakable act of lasciviousness.
I was pleased about the opportunity to add another
experience to the growing list of obscenities I had
committed. I licked her pussy, sucked the unknown man's
semen out of her and left her meticulously clean and
extremely satisfied.

Later she told me that the stranger had been a sales rep
who arrived at the office just as she was about to leave.
He wanted to interest her boss in some new, enhanced
products which his employer had to offer.

"My boss had already left. Normally I would have just
told the man to come back the next day, preferably after
making an appointment, but he looked gorgeous. Just
looking at him made me tingle all over. And it seems that
I had the same effect on him, because his cock rose
visibly inside his trousers.

"I took him into my boss's office and told him to have a
seat. I locked the door so that nobody would surprise us.
Then I simply undid his belt, opened his fly, pushed my
panties to the side and rode his wonderful cock until he
came. I kissed him to stifle the noise he produced when
he shot his cum into me. It all happened so quickly, the
poor guy probably didn't know what had hit him. You could
say this was a 'wham, bam, thank you mister' kind of a
fuck. He wanted to invite me for dinner, for a drink, for
a chat, but I told him I had to go. 'Come back tomorrow,'
I told him with a wink, 'maybe you'll get lucky', then I
hurried home to share his blessing with you."

The dog collar Caroline had given me as a present only
two days ago seemed comparably insignificant, but I took
it as an outward sign that she had accepted ownership of
me. I was pleased about this. I knew her well enough to
realize that she would be a demanding mistress; I knew
that I could expect merciless torture and devastating
orgasms. I was looking forward to her putting me through
my paces.

Ramon seemed to be more reluctant to assume ownership of
me. Sure, he had embarked on this 'purification process'.
He had subjected me to the abuse and humiliation of the
first two phases and announced that the third, final
phase was still to come. But wasn't all of this done with
the intention of 'curing' me of this 'mad desire' to be
his slave? Did he have any intention to discipline me, to
use me, as Caroline probably would?

Ramon had talked about the threesome with Lola and said
he wanted to achieve the same kind of happiness with
Caroline and me. That declaration pleased me no end. The
night with Lola had been one of the few memorable
occasions when I had achieved complete satisfaction
without pain. I was willing to do whatever Ramon asked
from me to experience this sensation again.

I wondered if there was going to be a repetition of the
previous night's events. I imagined a slightly different
scenario: Ramon would parade me naked in front of the two
teams before the match so that the players had a clear
idea what reward awaited the winning team. I would watch
the match, locked up naked in a cage, and the winning
team would be given the key to the cage. They would take
me to the more comfortable setting of a hotel room where
they would have not only my pussy and ass, but also my
mouth and tits at their disposal. Whenever they found
that I was too filthy they could send me to the bathroom
to clean myself before they continued.

As I pictured the scenes in my mind, my hand slid down
between my legs, but the intense pain told me that I was
in no condition to enjoy myself, not even from my own
hands. I had to smile and shake my head about the kind of
pervert I had become, craving for more sex before I had
recovered from the previous night's exertion.

Or was all this just a product of my rebellious spirit?
Was I denying that I had learned my lesson, simply to
oppose any attempt to put the brakes on my sex drive?
What kind of a slave was I then? One who decided what her
master should or should not do?

This last thought made me realize what a strange concept
I had of my life as a slave. Wasn't it the slave's role
to follow her master's orders, to do as she was told, and
to be grateful to her master for allowing her to live in
his shadow? I still had a lot to learn, and I would have
to work hard to keep my rebellious spirit under control.

I decided that I would follow all of Ramon's instructions
to the letter, and that I would be grateful to him for
what he decided, no matter what it was. That decision
finally gave me the peace of mind for a deep, restoring
sleep.

                    To be continued
