So far? 0-4...

By this point in your ordeal, you know when to follow orders. With the bright flashlight illuminating your aching body, you immediately start fingering yourself. At first, you don't feel anything - just pressure and pain and, of course, debilitating humiliation. But as you listen to the heavy breathing of eight teenagers and their counselor and imagine their eyes leering at you from the darkness, you actually start to get turned on.

What the fuck is wrong with me? you wonder. But you don't allow yourself time for introspection. If you're going to get out of this, you're going to need to cum.

You close your eyes and focus on your clit. You try to ignore the sores that started to form under the hot wax and allow pleasure to begin to radiate from your crotch. You start to breathe heavily yourself and before you know what you're doing, you're cupping one breast in your free hand while rubbing yourself with the other. Your breathing becomes deeper, your hips start to gyrate. A minute passes and another. Slowly, the presence of the men surrounding you fades into the darkness, and you find yourself alone with your pussy.

You're getting into it now, a moan escaping your lips. Your cheeks are flushing, you're biting your lip, and each gentle pinch of your nipples brings you closer to orgasm. You feel a swelling sensation building in your hips and--

"Stop."

Your eyes spring open, and you're confronted again with nothing but a shining light. Suddenly remembering where you are and what you're doing, you stop rubbing yourself, leaving your fingers stationary on your clit. You can't tell who spoke, but as the pleasure ebbs away and embarrassment seeps back in, you realize that tonight might be longer than you can handle.

"Begin," another voice says.

You immediately start pleasuring yourself again. You're more self-conscious now, and it's harder to focus on the task at hand. You rub yourself for four minutes, eight minutes. It goes on and on while the lascivious teens lap it up. Fuck, you say to yourself. This is going to last all night if I don't get serious.

You take a new tack, plunging your fingers into your pussy and fucking yourself wildly. You've only let yourself dive into this kind of finger-fucking a few times when you were desperately horny, but now's not the time to demure. You're getting close again, nearing climax. You think they might actually let you cum when you hear it.

"Stop." Fuck! You stop, writhing on the ground as the pleasure seeps away.

You wait. A minute. Then two. Silence. Then: "Begin."

You don't waste any time. You pinch your nipples immediately and start to fuck yourself. You imagine a giant cock sliding into you, owning you, controlling you. You're surprised to find that it's Patrick's cock you're imagining, and you recall sliding your hand against his large member... was it only yesterday? You smile, you're about to cum. Yes, they're finally letting you. The orgasm approaches...

"Stop."

"Fuck!" you shout, frustrated. "Goddamn it!"

"That is not how a woman speaks," Patrick's voice icily issues from the darkness. "On your knees, slut."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you say, but you also obey. "I'm sorry, SIR! I'm sorry, SIRS!" You're on your knees, your ass shining in the bright flashlight. "I'm sorry, masters!" you call out as the first smack lands against your ass. "Oww, oww, oww, I'm sorry" whap "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" whap, whap. You're whimpering and crying while the spanking continues, repeating "I'm sorry" over and over again.

The slaps finally cease, and not five seconds later, you hear another voice say, "Get started, slut. On your knees."

You're still crying, you're sure your ass is gleaming with hand prints, but you reach between your legs and begin to finger yourself. It's hard to get aroused in this position, but you don't dare move. Your tits sway in the cool night air as you desperately try to cum. But it's not working - you can't get a good angle.

"Please, master," you beg. "Please may I lie down and touch myself. Please..."

No response. You continue to cry as you vainly thrust your fingers in your pussy. You redouble your efforts, and again you find yourself imagining Patrick's cock sliding between your open thighs. The ebbing pain from your ass, the hardness of your chilled nipples, and the **** of your imaginary pounding actually start to have an effect. You're getting close again...

"Stop."

This time you do so quietly. You put your hand back on the ground, your arousal diminishing and tears falling on the ground. It feels like you've been at this for ages, but you're only halfway done...