Ali groaned faintly, and her previously deep, regular breathing speeded up a bit. Her head lolled on her neck, back and forth sleepily. Then she opened her pretty blue eyes and looked around the room she was in. Saw me. Stared at me without recognition for a few seconds... then realized who I was.

She tried to move and discovered she was splayed out, fastened spread eagled to the big bed she was on. Nothing torturous; I'd tied each wrist and ankle carefully with a nice silk sash, nothing as mundane as a rope or as harsh as a handcuff. Her limbs weren't pulled so tight she was in active pain, I saw no reason to inflict physical anguish on her... well, at the moment. I was planning to work her over pretty good a bit further down the road. But everything has its time and its place.

I'd thoughtfully propped her head and shoulders up on a stack of comfy pillows so she could see around herself with no problem. This was for many reasons: to let me mount her mouth when I felt like it. After the facts of life had been explained to her and I was fairly sure she wouldn't bite; to let her look down and see that she was naked (completely naked, as under my urging, in her GHB induced docility over the past few days. I'd had her shave her cunt completely bare), and, I admit, to put a tiny bit of physically uncomfortable strain on her shoulders, as her arms were pulled back above and behind her by the ties binding her wrists to either end of the king sized bed's headboard. I didn't want her distracted by pain (yet) but there was no reason the bitch should be physically comfortable.

I'd thought long and hard about simply leaving her in the condition she'd been in after the past three days of hard sexual usage I'd arranged for her at various hands, which is to say, pretty much covered in dried sperm from head to toe, and with various things like FUCK HERE written on her in lipstick, with arrows pointing to her various orifi, as well as other imaginative embellishments like SPERM BANK MAKE DEPOSITS HERE (written in two groups of words, one on either cheek on either side of her mouth) and THIS HOLE FOR BLACK DICK ONLY (written across her asscheeks, above and below her anus).

However, in the end I'd decided the extra humiliation wasn't worth the fact that I myself wouldn't really want to touch her, much less kiss her or use her, while she was in that condition, and personally, I think body writing is ugly, and Ali is much too pretty for that. So after ushering out her last set of ravishers the night prior (a guy named Barney and his especially trained Doberman), I'd led a tired, beaming, disheveled Ali into the adjoining bathroom, put her in the shower stall, and told her to get herself clean.

When she came out, all scrubbed and pink (except in the areas that were a bit bruised or chafed from slightly rough usage) with her hair freshly shampooed and combed out on her shoulders, I'd given her a little kiss on the lips, led her back over to the bed (she'd been yawning by then, but still eager) laid her down, tied her securely, played with her clit until she went off like a rocket three or four times, and then told her firmly to go to sleep. Five minutes later, she'd been snoozing like an exhausted lumberjack.

Then I'd fucked her, once in the cunt so she'd have my cum in her, and once in her open mouth, pulling out to jerk off all over her face, so she'd have cum there, too, and the taste in her mouth. She stirred a little bit but was so exhausted she didn't even wake up. I'd fucked Ali tied up before, but I'd never screwed anyone while they were asleep. It was kind of interesting.

Then I'd spent several of the next ten hours, while Ali caught up on three sleepless days being gang-fucked in nearly every combination and position I could think of, using the expensive laptop I'd brought to edit out various stills from the extensive video footage I'd taken of the last three days. I wound up with a gallery of 131 separate color.jpgs, all of them showing Ali's face (as well as a lot of the rest of her, generally) in detail that was not only immediately recognizable to anyone who knew her (like her husband, or her employer, or her family, or the members of her church).

They showed indisputably that she was not only participating in the various acts depicted in the images willingly, but with eager, delighted enthusiasm. I printed them all out, carefully arranged them in stacks face down on the bedside table with sticky notes on top of each saying 'Day 1 - Girl's Night Out', 'Day 2 - Affirmative Action', and 'Day 3 - Dog Day Afternoon'. Then I crashed for several hours on the single bed next to the big king sized that Ali was tied to. When I woke up, she was still asleep, so I ordered up some breakfast. Maybe the delicious aromas from the bacon, eggs, and french toast brought her around.

Anyway, she started to stir, so I said, brightly, "Morning, baby" and walked over to sit on the bed next to her and lean down and give her a casual kiss on the mouth. I didn't prolong it or slip her my tongue, but it was more of a kiss than a nice proper married church going lady should be getting from an ex-lover in a hotel room while tied naked to a bed. She accepted it in some confusion, but she was passive, and after a few seconds, she turned her face away, pulling her mouth out from under mine.

Normally that would make me mad, but... well. What goes around comes around, and it was definitely coming around for dear sweet Alisson.

I just sat up, smiling down at her in a friendly fashion, reaching out and gently holding one of her soft, firm tits almost casually, rolling the ball of my thumb tip over her nipple. It hardened immediately, and she gasped.

"Dah... Damien," she said, her voice raspy, still sounding a little groggy. "What's... where am I?"

"Room 614 of the Marriott, sweetheart," I told her. "Don't you remember? You met me for a drink down in the bar, and one thing led to another..."

I could see her visibly forcing herself to remember back. Now, GHB is an interesting drug, since not only does it seem to release all sexual inhibitions in those who take it, it also wipes out all long term memory of what they've done under its effects.

To my mind, this would seem to indicate that what it does is, in effect, either free up, or actually create, a sort of sub-persona or split personality, one far more in touch with the id's rampant carnal desires. The person under the effect of GHB seems to actually become a different being for a time; an avid fuck machine, utterly open to any sexual act whatsoever no matter how depraved. Then when the drug wears off, the 'real' personality re- emerges, with no memory of what their body has done for the past few hours, or days, or... whatever.

Ali blinked several times. "Um..." She ran the tip of her tongue around her lips, probably without being aware of it. "Um, yes..." I knew she'd remember meeting me for drinks in the hotel bar; that drink, generously laced with GHB, was what had kicked off our little three-day tryst. She wouldn't remember anything afterwards, though, until waking up just now with the effects of the drug worn off.

"Um... Damien..." She hesitated. Back when Ali and I were briefly lovers, in our college days, before her first marriage, much less her second, we'd done a few fairly wild things, so I'm sure she realized that acting outraged and innocent wasn't exactly going to fly with me. In fact, I imagine she was probably afraid that she'd just gotten drunk and more or less willingly come up to my room with me... after all, it wouldn't be the first time she and I had hit the sheets together, nor would it even be the first time she'd let me tie her up. So I knew she was trying to figure out how to ask me exactly what was going on... and what had gone on... and how to get herself back into her clothes and out of my room without complicating things further.

I watched, keeping my face friendly and interested, and enjoying the sight of her trying to work out the best approach to make to me. "Um," she said, finally, somewhat weakly, "Damien... why am I... tied up?" She glanced down at her body, and I was watching for it, so I saw her eyes widen slightly as she realized her pussy was completely shaved... a realization that was doubtless immediately followed by her becoming consciously aware of what I would assume must have been a deep seated ache in both her cunt and ass, not to mention the residual ache from some of the bruises she had on her breasts, thighs, and hips.

I hadn't let anyone be deliberately rough or abusive with Ali... that was a privilege I reserved for myself, later... but when four big, husky, well hung African Americans are making free with a petite little blonde tramp who can't get enough of it, and who has very fair skin anyway, these things happen. Also, the four women who'd put Ali through some extensive lesbian paces on her first day had been surprisingly inventive in their methods of humiliating her, even without actually hurting her terribly, and they'd left some marks, too.

So I just looked at her, my eyes wide. "Why are you... Ali, you said you loved it. You don't remember? After the last of our guests left last night? And it was just the two of us? You said I'd given you such a good birthday present you wanted to repay me with something special, and I said, well, how about letting me tie you up and work my evil wiles on you, and you thought that was a great idea, and..."

I waved my free hand (the one that wasn't squeezing her tit and rubbing her nipple) about a bit, aimlessly. "Paradise ensued." I smiled. "I would never have thought it possible, sweetie, but you've gotten even better in the last couple of years."

Her eyes had grown wider as I'd spoken. Now she closed them tightly and groaned. Then she said, in a tiny voice full of dread, "...guests?"

"Oh, sure, hon," I said. "It was your birthday surprise."

I reached over, picked up the first stack of print outs, and then acted as if I'd forgotten she was tied up. I made sure she saw the sticky note on the stack. "Oh, well, let me just show you these." I turned the stack over so she could see the first one.

Her eyes widened and her face paled visibly. I leaned in. "See," I said, pointing helpfully, "that's Erin, and that's Darian, and that's Kelly, from Texas, and that one is Kelly, too, from Connecticut. I found them all at Yahoo.com, can you believe it? They're all married ladies, like you... very bisexual, very uninhibited... they just loved the idea of helping give you a wonderful birthday, especially when I told them how enthusiastic a little pussy licker you are. Most of them are usually very submissive, but when I told them you really wanted to be a slave to a big group of women, they got surprisingly into the whole dom thing."

I was slowly going through the pages of print outs as I said all this, showing Ali succeeding images of her eating the various women's pussies and asses, being fisted by them in her own pussy and ass, as well as being fucked with massive strap on dildos, being flogged (with floggers, not belts or whips, so they didn't leave any permanent or even many temporary marks, but judging from Ali's screams and sobs at the time, they'd hurt like hell), and, in the last six or so, kneeling in the adjoining tub to have them piss in her face and, in the last two, her open, obviously eager mouth.

"Oh my GOD," she said, eyes wide. "I... I did all that? Oh NO."

Yet her pupils were large, which I knew was a sign of interest. Ali had been quite a little slut in her teens and early 20s, before her first marriage. I knew she'd tried to clean up her act since then, and to establish herself as a very proper suburban churchgoing wife, but I suspected that not too far under the surface, the old Ali still hungered for her old uninhibited lifestyle. The Ali I'd known in college had once eagerly entered a sorority pussy eating contest, even though she wasn't a member and didn't want to join; she just wanted to eat a lot of cunt.

If she hadn't been disqualified when she eventually told them she really didn't want to pledge, she would have won. (The sisters of Phi Beta Thi tried hard to talk her into pledging after the contest, too.) I had personally watched Ali munch her cousin's cunt, the pussy of an ex girlfriend of mine who was curious about girl/girl sex, and a girl we both casually knew from Cinema Board, and I knew from what she'd told me that she'd licked dozens more cunts in her time. I doubted she'd had any twat since her first marriage, and I could see that looking at those photos was turning her on as much or more as it was horrifying her.

"That was just the first night," I said. "I remembered you told me you liked mandingo sex, so..." I picked up the second stack.

Ali's eyes found the second sticky note and I heard her groan "Oh my God."

I started showing her the pics, one by one, of her second day in the hotel room, which she'd spent eagerly servicing, in every way they asked or I suggested, four well hung, dark skinned black guys. As I held up each pic, her eyes grew wider and her pupils got even larger.

These pics would destroy her marriage; her current husband is a well off, very conservative advertising guy from Indiana, where Ali lives now, and the kind decent normal folk of Indiana don't exactly approve of white women, especially married white women, getting impaled on huge black cock, in all their holes, often in all their holes at once.

I'd cleaned Ali up, like I said, but in many of these pictures the various body writings were quite clear, and in all of them, Ali's face was very recognizable. She looked like she loved every inch of it, and hell, as I remembered, she had. One pic, showing two of those monster black dicks shoved up her ass at once, made her visibly wince. When we got to the last six, showing her taking each of the four black guy's piss in her open mouth as well, she moaned and closed her eyes.

"Oh my god," she said. "Oh my god I didn't do that? I couldn't have done that?"

"What's wrong, sugar?" I said, making myself sound honestly puzzled. "I mean... you wanted it. You enjoyed it. What's the matter?"

She groaned... and opened her eyes again. There were tears in them now. "Damien, I swear to God, I don't remember any of this... oh shit... oh god, I'm dreaming, I must be dreaming..."

I frowned at her. "Sweetie, come on. You got a little looped, but you weren't that drunk. And as far as I could see, you were just acting like your normal self. I mean, let's face it, this wasn't exactly your first gangbang." I smiled. "I did come up with something new for you, though, on the third day. You really got into it, too. Remember?"

She stared at me in horror. "Nuh... new?" she squeaked. I could see her racking her brains through her extensive sexual experience to try to figure out what I could possibly have come up with that was 'new'. "Wuh... what... new?"

I smiled. "Now you're just teasing me. I know you remember this." I picked up the last stack, made sure she saw the sticky note... gave it a second to sink in... and when her face had gone completely dead white and I saw her starting to think to herself 'no, that CAN'T mean..." I flipped it over and showed her the first pic.

Which was, actually, fairly tame; it just showed her more or less french kissing with an obviously eager German Shepherd. Of course, you can't really kiss a dog, what Ali was doing was letting the dog lick into her open mouth and pretty obviously licking back.

From there, the pics progressed more or less predictably... Ali under the dog with her hand on its cock, Ali blowing the dog, Ali up on all fours being mounted by the dog, then one of Ali lying on her back with the dog licking her cum smeared pussy. She was sucking the dick of a fat white guy in that pic who was kneeling next to her head; that's the traditional way a k9 slut pays off the guy who brings her a new, trained canine stud.

There were two more sets of pics; Ali had done two more dogs (and their owners) that day. The second one, a big Rottweiler, had taken her anally after she'd initially sucked it off, I'd had to have the owner contort Ali's head around pretty good to get her face in that pic.

The third one was the Doberman, and it was pretty typical... Ali making out with it, Ali rubbing its cock, sucking its cock, letting it fuck her, Ali blowing its owner. She'd actually fucked the Doberman three times and sucked it off twice, as she really liked its cock, and what didn't show in the pics was that the owner had also trained that Doberman to be fucked as well as fuck, and after he'd demonstrated by sliding his own cock up its ass, I'd taken a turn. Dog ass is very tight and very hot; I came in a hurry. I didn't film that, though.

"Oh Jesus," Ali whimpered, as I went through the stack of print outs with her. "Oh my GOD," she said, when we got to one showing the Rottweiler's fist sized knot opening her ass up as it pushed inside her. By the time we got to the last half dozen in that group, showing the dogs pissing in Ali's face and open mouth, she'd started to cry so hard I doubted she could see them clearly.

I sat there and let my own eyes close, indulging in just a fleeting moment of pure pleasure in her utter shame, humiliation, and degradation. It takes some doing to make a slut like Ali feel ashamed of herself, although honestly, it was her own fault. First, for ever even trying to pretend, to others or herself, that she was anything BUT a slut. And second, for dissing me a year or so before all this, when I'd found her email address and gotten in contact with her again, and she'd been too busy with her new life and new fiance to correspond with me. If she'd just paid a little bit of attention to me then, she'd have spared herself all this now. But, as I say, what goes around comes around.

Doubtless, like so many others in my life before I won the Lotto, Ali had considered me safe to diss. Well, she was only first on a long list who were going to find out otherwise. Six million dollars, I was discovering, can buy a whole lot of revenge.

I picked the photos up, re-stacked them neatly on the bedside table, and let Ali get herself together while I went over to the DVD player and slipped in the disc of the last three days of her adventures. I started it up, turned the sound up just loud enough to make good background noise, figuring it would eventually get her attention when she quieted down a little, and provide her with a whole new realm of humiliation... color.jpgs are one thing, but there's nothing like high quality video with a full soundtrack of 'oh god harder' in a girl's own voice to really rivet the attention of a slut in denial.