(Read Part 1 here.)

Abby had to masturbate for nearly half an hour in her car before getting out and approaching the woodland cabin of Richard Owens.

Not because she *wanted* to masturbate – but Owens had told her he expected her to be aroused when she knocked on the door, and she was so nervous it took her quite a while to get going.  After all, she’d driven the last five miles completely nude – Owens had instructed that she stop and undress the moment she got off the main road – and she didn’t know what Owens had in store for her this month, but he was a cruel man and she doubted it would be a luxurious holiday.

She had little choice, though.  She owed Owens millions after his successful defamation suit against her, and it was money she just couldn’t pay.  In order to defer her debt, she’d already agreed to dye her hair blonde and get fake tits, and now she looked just like one of the porn-whores that decorated Owens’ porn magazine empire – women she hated and reviled with every feminist fibre of her being.  Owens had even made her pose for a porn photo shoot – photos which he’d promised were for his personal collection only.

The cabin was an all-or-nothing offer.  If she stayed at the cabin for a month, dressed how he wanted, and obeyed all of his commands, he’d cancel the debt, and let her get a breast reduction and re-dye her hair.  He’d promised not to fuck her or hit her.  It still sounded awful, but it felt like something she could do.

The cabin was large, and well constructed, located in a woodland clearing in the state forest, an hour and a half’s drive from the nearest city.  Smoke was issuing for a chimney as she approached, suggesting a wood fire inside.  She got out of her car, completely naked, feeling exposed and humiliated, still hating the look of her new huge fake tits, and ran across to the door.  She felt like a total whore – a feeling accentuated by the wetness of her pussy after her masturbation, and the hardness of her nipples.

She knocked – and Owens answered almost immediately.  He was wearing an incongruously elegant suit, and she had to grudgingly admit that he looked good in it.

He smiled – and reached out and pushed a finger into her pussy.  She gasped.  He pulled it back out – wet with her cunthoney – and wiped it clean on her cheek.

She flushed with shame.

“Give me your car keys,” he said.

She did.  Now she was carrying and wearing nothing – except for the high heels he’d wanted her in.

“Good cunt,” he said.  “I understand your name is Rape-Udders.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Ugh.  No,” she said.

“I’ve heard your name is Rape-Udders,” he said.  “What’s your name?”

“Abby,” she said, frowning.

“Abby is a feminist bitch who makes everyone unhappy,” said Owens.  “She’s not welcome here.”  And with that, he closed the door in her face.  There was the sound of a lock clicking shut.

She stood there, nude, in shock.  “Owens!” she called.  “Owens!  Open up!”

Owens voice came through the door.  “Who’s there?” he asked.

“Abby!” she said.

“Abby is a difficult frigid skank who makes you sad,” said Owens.  “She’s not welcome here.”

Abby looked around in frustration.  She tried the door handle.  It was locked.  She walked around the cabin.  The back door was locked, too.

It was late afternoon.  It was starting to get dark – and cold – and she was still completely nude.  She shivered.

She walked back to her car – but it was locked, and she’d given the keys to Richard.  She suddenly realised she was trapped here.  Richard had made her leave her phone and wallet at home. 

She walked back to the house.  “Richard!” she called.  “Please!  It’s cold!  Open up!”

“If I open the door, you’d better have a wet cunt,” he replied.

Abby cursed.  Her arousal had cooled off rapidly in the cold air.  She lowered a hand to her cunt and began fingering it again.

“Richard, please,” she called.  There was no answer.  She remembered how he’d wanted to be addressed in his office, and blushed.  “Sir?” she tried.

There was still no answer.  It occurred to her that she’d gotten his little test wrong twice in a row, and maybe he was going to leave her outside all night to teach her a lesson.  It seemed horribly plausible.

She desperately tried to think.  When she’d come to him for debt relief in his office, back in the city, he’d made her apologise for being a “dumb lazy cunt”.  She had hated it, but….

“Sir?” she called.  Her voice was loud, and she hoped no one else was nearby.  “Sir, I’m sorry I’m a dumb bimbo cunt.  Please let me in.”

There was no immediate reply, so she tried again.  “I’m sorry I’m an ungrateful big-titted whore, sir.  Please, sir.”

The door opened.  Owens stood in the doorway.

“What’s your name?” he asked her.

She opened her mouth to say “Abby” – but then she pictured being outside all night, in the cold, lying naked in the dirt and leaves, shivering… and then still having to give the right answer in the morning.

She pictured Owens taking the entire month to teach her this one lesson – and loving every moment of her struggle, and finding his eventual and inevitable victory all the more satisfying.

She closed her mouth, and took a deep breath.

“My name is Rape-Udders, sir,” she said.  Her face was bright red, her voice was small, and she stumbled a little on the name “Rape-Udders”, but Owens understood her clearly regardless.

“Rape-Udders,” he said.  “What an appropriate name for someone who looks like you.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Abby, quietly.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Rape-Udders,” said Owens, smiing.  “You look like a very agreeable cow-titted fucktoy.”  He made a show of looking around the clearing.  “Do you know, a little earlier, I thought I heard that bitch Abby knocking at my door.  Tell me, Rape-Udders – have you seen her around?”

Abby flushed.  She wished she had her car keys.  She’d get back in her car and drive away from this whole fucked up situation, debt or no debt.

But she didn’t.

So she said, very carefully, “No, sir, I haven’t seen Abby.  Abby is an unpleasant frigid bitch who nobody likes.  She’s not welcome here.”

Richard smiled a triumphant, sinister smile.  “Good girl, Rape-Udders,” he said.  He walked over to her, and tested with his finger to see if her cunt was still wet.  It was.  He smiled, and wiped his whole palm against her wet pussy, and then raised it to her face and smeared her cunt-honey across her eyes, nose, and mouth.  She flinched a little, but not too much.  She didn’t want to piss him off any more than she already had.

As she stood there, nude and shivering, with her pussy-slime on her face, Richard gestured towards the open door of the cabin, and the inviting light and warmth spilling from within.  “Why don’t you come inside?” he said to her.  “I have a fire going, and a nice little place for you, and I think we’re going to have a very enjoyable month…”

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