Theirs to Use: A Punishment Reverse Harem Romance(16)

“Should we put her in the cage for a while now, Griff?” Green asked.

Singleton couldn’t deny how hard the idea got him. Also—and this thought he tried to put a pin in, so that he might return to it later—his dominant intuition hinted something to him that seemed important. If Karen were ever to come to terms with her body’s response to the mastery they would hold over her, and let herself find some enjoyment in the way Green, Singleton, the eight other investors, and as many friends as these men wished to invite to share the girl, perhaps even renting her out to amortize their cost, she must be led to it through the degradation rather than away from it.

“Definitely,” Singleton agreed. “Karen, honey, do you have to pee?”

For a long moment she didn’t respond, as she stood in her doorway with her head bowed and, Singleton felt sure, though he couldn’t see, her eyes closed.

“Answer, sweetheart,” Green said, “or we’ll have to put you on the spanking bench right now and punish you.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

“Karen?” Singleton said, letting his voice grow a little stern.

“Yes! Okay? Yes, I have to pee. May… may I please go to the bathroom?”

“You may,” said Green, “and we will go with you.”

“What?” she gasped, spinning around to look at them now, clearly having lost some reserve she had tried to maintain, some air of passive defiance she had thought would make the ordeal of her submission easier.

“You heard Mr. Green,” Singleton said, feeling a little conflicted but knowing above all the need to present to Karen the realities of her situation, though in a less cruel manner than Green clearly wanted to do. “You don’t have any privacy here, Karen. You will have one day a week to yourself in your room, but at every other time you are fully available to us. Most of the time, when you’re on the toilet we will watch you, and when we don’t, you will leave the door open after asking permission to relieve yourself.”

Karen’s furrowed brow, all the more piquant in contrast to the lovely dress in view of what she had just learned about her new life, showed the conflict Singleton’s words had awoken in her mind. He felt sure that if he should thrust his hand under the invitingly short hem of the dress and work his fingers underneath the narrow lace of the thong in which they had dressed her cunt, he would find her very wet. He also felt sure that if he asked, now, whether she had gotten warm down there, Karen would deny it vehemently.

“You can’t,” she said softly, dropping her eyes to her pretty new pumps.

“You know we can,” Green replied. “I’m sure you don’t want a spanking, so let’s make this nice and easy. Get out of all your clothes here right now, and put them away neatly, while we watch, and then we’ll accompany you down the hall to the bathroom. You need to get used to being naked much of the time anyway. You may put your lotion on your cunt in the bathroom, too, and then you’ll come back here and get into your cage for half an hour before bed. We’ll come let you out, and from that point on, it will be your day off, while your cunt recovers from the waxing.”

As Green delivered this sensible, if terribly degrading program, Karen kept her head bowed and her hands in little fists at her sides. A very soft whimper came from her when Green told her about the nakedness to which she would have to accustom herself, but then she seemed to force down any other reaction, as if she were trying to gather her strength of mind.

At the end of Green’s little speech, though, when he first proffered the solace of the day off and then casually ruined it with the reference to her waxing, her head lowered another inch, as if the strength she sought had eluded her. How could she not react that way, Singleton reflected, when any reminder of the bareness between her thighs and her bottom-cheeks must turn her thoughts back to the shameful hints she had gotten of what awaited her only a little more than twenty-four hours from now?

Karen turned, and walked to the center of the room. Green and Singleton stepped inside; Green leaned against her little pink desk and Singleton sat in her pink desk chair. With her back to her owners, Karen reached up to unzip the back of the dress from the neckline.

Singleton’s heart gave an unexpected little leap at the sight: this was it, he realized—the essential difference between having Karen, even if he must share her with nine other men, and going twice a week to fuck a girl on the cell block. To dress her up so nicely, to see the look of wonder she hadn’t been able to keep off her face when they walked through the store, and then to have the right to command that she unzip, undress, disrobe… strip, from that elegance down to her lacy lingerie and then to her lovely naked body…

Altogether it meant something, and the little spark of affection seemed to grow inside him at the thought. It meant she belonged to them, and that they would take care of her, even when taking care of her meant watching her undress, watching her pee, putting her in a cage. As the zipper came down and the dress dropped to the floor to reveal Karen’s back and punished bottom, so enticingly clad in the white lace that they would have to make her wear tomorrow night as well, Singleton spared a glance at Green. He found himself fascinated by the hard look on the financier’s face, and he found in that expression’s contrast with his own feelings both reassurance and a bit of disturbance. Singleton felt reassured that his fellow investor apparently didn’t feel the kind of responsibility that had begun to develop in his own mind, and just the slightest bit anxious that the difference might lead to conflict.