“All over, but mostly down my spine. There’s been something on my mind the past few days so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

The man—what the hell was his name anyway—gave a sympathetic grunt. Because he hadn’t indicated he was ready to get started, she propped herself up on her elbows. She didn’t have to look at herself to know her breasts were hanging down, and although she was a little disappointed that he didn’t seem interested in checking them out, she had to admire his professionalism. When Perry had brought her to the private gym and introduced her to the man who owned it, she’d assumed he was gay. And when she’d learned that, in addition to being the owner, he was a professional masseuse and still worked with a limited number of clients, she hadn’t known whether to feel singled out or uneasy. There was something about the way he occasionally looked at her, as if he was taking his measure of her.

She was no longer sure he was gay because he sometimes got an erection during a session, but so far, her lighthearted attempts to come on to him hadn’t gotten her anywhere. She’d told herself he wasn’t worth the effort, but damn it, after the way Perry had acted the other day, she’d like nothing more than a little affair to flaunt in her husband’s face.

“So, ready to turn yourself over to my magical hands, are you?” the masseuse/owner asked. “I want to try a new oil on you. I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t relax you as you’ve never been relaxed.”

When he held up the small blue bottle she noticed he was wearing thin, skin-tight gloves like the ones surgeons used.

“These?” He indicated the gloves. “The oil is penetrating. Too much of it on my own skin and I’ll be taking a nap.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“It is.” He nodded, indicating she should place her face in the padded cutout. No matter how long she’d been doing this, looking at the floor instead of being able to see what whoever was working on her was doing was a little disconcerting. However, almost as soon as he dribbled a little oil down her spine, tension started to flow out of her. “Oh, that’s incredible. And it’s getting warmer.”

“That’s what everyone says. I developed this myself. Now, you just hang in there and let me take care of you. You’re in good hands.”

What’s his name had always made a production out of keeping her pussy covered with a towel while he worked on her, something that made her chuckle. She certainly understood that there were rules of behavior and most likely the majority of his clients were highly concerned with modesty, but she wasn’t like the bluebloods with their skinny noses in the air.

Let them play their stupid games about how they were too good for the hired help and their precious bodies were sacred or some damn fool thing. They might flaunt their jewels and designer clothes, but she saw beneath the façade. None of them were different from her, not really. They all had one thing in common: they’d do everything they needed to keep their claws on their men’s money. There weren’t any fat old wives here, nothing but hot bodies. The fat wives existed all right and probably had their own gyms or bridge clubs or golf memberships or whatever wives of truly rich men did to entertain themselves, but. . .

Hmm. What had she been thinking? Could she have fallen asleep? A little irritated because she’d been looking forward to having male hands on her body, she tried to contract her muscles to keep the blood flowing, but her muscles weren’t interested.

“It’s working, is it?” the masseuse asked. Then, to her shock, he lightly slapped her buttocks. The smacking sound let her know in no uncertain terms that her towel was gone.

“Wh—” she tried to say but couldn’t get the rest of the word out. Down deep she was getting scared, but the rest of her didn’t give a damn what was happening.

“Don’t try to talk, Mrs. Hernden. Even if you could, we don’t care what you say.”

We?  Who was he talking about?

After slapping her again, he went back to massaging her, only was that the right term? He’d spread her legs and was running those strong fingers of his up and down the insides of her thighs. Her alarm grew as she realized that although her muscles refused to respond to her commands, she felt his every touch.

Higher and higher he went, his movements slow so she could anticipate the moment when he’d reach her pussy. By putting every bit of strength she possessed into the effort, she managed to close her legs a fraction of an inch.

“No you don’t!” He rammed the side of his hand against her pussy and kept it there, pushing until the pain made her scream—or she would have screamed if she could get out more than the faintest moan.

“She’s making sounds,” another male voice said. “We don’t want anyone hearing.”

“No, we don’t,” the man with his hand still punishing her retorted. “But the stereo system’s going out there, not that I should have to point that out to you.”

“I just don’t want anything going wrong.”

“It won’t. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have. I don’t make mistakes.”

The second man muttered something under his breath. Then, “So what’s it like up there?”

Her tormentor rubbed briskly. “Hot.”

“Wet?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

She was still trying to make sense of the nightmare when the men each took an ankle and spread her wide so that her legs dangled over the side of the narrow table. To her horror, someone slapped her so hard that it felt as if they’d taken a belt to her pussy lips. A second later, one of them jammed what felt like two fingers inside her. “Getting there. Shit, talk about tight.”

“We’ll take care of that. Move over and let me check.”

One pair of fingers slipped out to be replaced by two others. Not that it mattered, but from what she could tell, neither man wore gloves. When had what’s his name removed his? 

Instead of retreating, the living invasion pushed deeper until she felt as if she was being skewered. A barely audible protest pushed past her lips.

“You’re right,” the man who’d been giving her a massage said. “She’s squealing like a stuck pig. It’s time to shut her up.”

“And get her ready for transport. That topical nerve sedative of yours is going to wear off.”

“And then she’ll start fighting.”

“Yeah.” A hearty laugh punctuated the word.

To her relief, the man who’d been acting as if he had every right to her body pulled out. She felt her head being lifted by the hair. Something pressed against her lips and forced them open. A large wooden dowel was jammed between her teeth. Next she felt a jerk on the dowel followed by something tightening against the back of her head. Metal rings pressed against her cheeks, prompting the horrifying thought that a kind of bridle had been placed around her head, only the bit was designed to silence, not guide her.

Fear made her break out in a sweat. Perry, she screamed in her head. Perry, please help me!

The men pulled her hands behind her and placed one over the other. She felt a wide leather strap against her wrists, then a buckle pressed on her skin as the strap was tightened. Not content with handcuffing her, they placed an even wider strap just above her breasts and around her upper arms, effectively sealing her arms to her sides.

The third strap secured her ankles together. That was followed by another just above her knees. The last went around her thighs and was cinched so tight that her labial lips pressed against each other.

“We indeed do good work.”

“It’s easy when a man loves his calling. Do we have a minute before I have to pack her up?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.”

“I want to check out the merchandise. Get an idea of what I’ll be working with.”

“Good point,” the masseuse said. “Examine away.”

Maybe she should feel less helpless now that she could move her head, but what did it matter?  Even if all her strength had returned, the straps held her as she’d never been held. A muscular man she’d never seen before positioned himself at her side and looked down as if she was some merchandise he was considering buying. “She doesn’t like her boobs?  What the hell’s wrong with them?”

“What do you think?  She wants them bigger.”

“Hmm. They look perfect to me, but looks can be deceptive. Only one way to know for sure.” Smiling a smile that reminded her of a cat stalking a bird, he slowly lowered a hand toward the breast closest to him. She fought to turn away, but all she managed was rolling her shoulders the slightest bit. Rough fingers clamped onto her nipple. “Big nubs. They’ll take clamps no problem.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I believe you’ll agree that those knockers are meant for abuse.”

“No way of knowing from just looking at them.”

His grip tightened. At the same time, he leaned closer and studied her expression. As the pain increased, tears burned her eyes, and she put every bit of her laughable strength into trying to pull free.

“Stop it, bitch!” Smiling his cold and calculating smile, he pulled up on her breasts, causing the full flesh to pull away from her breastbone. “The most important lesson you’re going to learn is that your body no longer belongs to you. As the possession of whatever man is controlling you, you’ll let him do whatever he wants to it.” He started a rotating movement that pulled her breasts in one circle after another.

Embarrassment and anger at being treated this way surged through her. She tried to curse but wound up biting down on the wooden bit.

“We have a fighter here, Martin. Damn, but I love those.” The shameful rotations stopped only to be replaced by more pulling. Pain again sparked, forcing a muffled sob. “A noisy one.”

“Poor creature, having to learn the error of her ways.”

“True.” No matter how much she squirmed, the big man kept a firm grip on her nipple. “And damn, but I’m going to enjoy the teaching.” He leaned forward. “Let me introduce myself, Mrs. Hernden. Everyone calls me Wolfe. However, you’re going to learn to call me and every other man Master.”

No, no, no.

“What is this?” he demanded as if reading her mind. “You’re objecting?  Tisk, tisk, what a lot you have to learn. Beginning at the beginning, this is truly no longer your body. It now belongs to us. Am I repeating myself?” He yanked once more, and she screamed, at least she tried to. When the horrid pulling on her breasts let up, she took quick and desperate assessment of her body. Her hands and feet still felt as if they belonged to someone else, but she now had control over the rest of her muscles.

“You know,” Wolfe said to the man he’d called Martin, “I’ve changed my mind. It’s time to transfer her.”

“In a moment. First, an experiment.”

When Martin positioned himself on her other side, Wolfe released her breasts. If she hadn’t been so furious and scared, she might have thanked him for ending the pain—or tried to. Martin cupped the breast closest to him, then bent over and took as much as he could of it into his mouth. Whimpering, she tried to roll away only to find herself staring at Wolfe. Wolfe’s dark gaze distracted her. When Martin closed his teeth over her nub, she sobbed.

“Ah,” Wolfe said. “Talk about potential. She’s going to sing for us.”

Martin opened his mouth and released her, then grabbed her shoulders and rolled her onto her side. She bent her legs as much as her restraints allowed in case he tried to position her on her belly. Instead of stopping her, he took hold of her ankles and forced them up close to her buttocks. He ran his hands over her thighs and hips, caressing and confusing her. Loose and hungry, she relaxed. After planting one hand on her buttocks, he worked the other between her ass cheeks.

“What have you found?” Wolfe asked.

“She’s hot in there.”

“What about wet?”

A finger pressed against her puckered ass opening. “She’s tight here. Unless I don’t know what I’m talking about, which isn’t possible, this bitch is an ass virgin.”

No, no, no, she screamed behind her gag. Furious all over again, she started thrashing, but Wolfe dug his fingers into her shoulders and held her in place. As she twitched and sobbed, Martin methodically spread her buttocks. This time he did more than touch her anus; he rammed a finger into the tight opening. She bucked and cursed. Nothing stopped the pain. “You and your co-workers are going to have fun.”

“Is she wet?”

“Wolfe, give me a moment. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that I’m paying your salary.” The finger in her ass hole dove deeper, invading her in a way she’d never dreamed possible. “There’s a lot of work that’s going to need to be done here. If I didn’t know what to expect, I’d think she was trying to cut off my finger.”

“Who gives a shit about fingers?  What matters is a cock.”

“True, true.”

Martin still had hold of one cheek, his fingers digging into the soft, full flesh as he held her open. The hand with the finger inside her pushed with so much force that he would have knocked her off the table if Wolfe wasn’t holding her in place. No matter how desperately she hated the idea of the bastards winning, they were. She was helpless, their toy, strapped and gagged. Most unnerving was the invasion to her ass and the degrading knowledge that she couldn’t do anything to stop him.

A cock?  Was he talking about ramming his into her?