I Woke Up Marked in an Apartment That Wasn't Mine

I was dreaming that hands were moving over my breasts and fingers were making their way inside me. I was rocking my hips upward, wanting the intruder to go deeper, still caught between sleep and waking. When I finally opened my eyes, I understood that there had been no dream.

Disoriented, I saw two young men sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me with a mixture of desire and awkwardness, their hands still warm on my skin. I let out a scream that made them jerk back and leap to their feet.

—Where am I? What’s going on? —I asked, covering myself with the sheet.

Right away my master Tato appeared and scolded them. The two of them looked more frightened than I was.

—Get out of here, you pair of useless idiots. I told you not to wake her or touch her. Don’t you know this woman is mine? You haven’t even introduced yourselves. They’re my flatmates, Leo and Marco. Like me, they work nights in hospitality.

—Hi, Marina, sorry if we scared you —said the taller one—. But you were there, naked, with those marks on your back, and we’re not made of stone.

The other one nodded, just as awkward. I was barely listening to them, because I had just discovered something that unsettled me more than they did.

***

Across my breasts there were red and black lines joining at my stomach and running down to my pubis, as if four stained fingers had trailed all over my body while I slept. I was frightened, thinking it was blood, but Tato calmed me down.

—It’s nothing bad. It’s paint. A man performed a rite over you last night, while you were sleeping deeply. When you shower, it’ll disappear. I’ll explain it to you later.

The room smelled of incense, that thick scent used in ceremonies. I was in a house I didn’t know, with three men, and someone had painted my body during the night without my knowing. No matter how much I asked, Tato wouldn’t spill. He insisted that that afternoon his boss, Esteban, and he would tell me everything.

—You’ve slept in late, it’s already one. Now give me your good-morning the way you know how —he said, bringing his face to his crotch and lifting my head by the back of my neck.

He didn’t ask. He already took it for granted that that was my greeting. I started sucking him off, holding him with one hand while he drove his fingers into me with the other and rubbed my clit. Through the open door, Leo and Marco kept peeking in. Tato, with his back to them, couldn’t see them. It turned me on to hold their gaze while they pulled out their cocks and masturbated watching me.

The Caribbean guy thought I wasn’t putting enough effort into it —I was still carrying the hangover from the night before— and, taking his fingers out of my sex, he grabbed my head and fucked my mouth hard, not pulling out until I swallowed everything. He left me half-finished, with my desire still intact. My aching body was still sore from the treatment the previous night at the club.

The two voyeurs, who had already seen my marked waist and the lashes, looked at each other as if confirming that they had a slave in front of them who enjoyed being dominated. I got wet every time someone recognized that part of me. Before Tato caught them, they slipped away to take care of themselves elsewhere.

—I’m going to the pharmacy to get an ointment. With a good massage I’m hoping those marks will go away. Shower, get your ass ready with the plug in, and then we’ll eat.

He left the room. I heard him warn the others from the hallway:

—I’m going to get cream for my little slut. Make the food and don’t you even think about touching her.

***

They didn’t pay him any mind. As soon as the apartment door closed, the two of them came back into the room and threw themselves on me without letting me get up. One sat astride my chest and filled my mouth; the other knelt between my legs, lifted them onto his shoulders, and entered me without any mercy. They shook me like a rubber doll and came one after the other, so fast that they left me wanting again. To them, a woman like that was only good for giving pleasure; mine didn’t count.

As soon as they were done, they nearly carried me to the bathroom so I wouldn’t stain the bed. They put me in the shower in a hurry, with a towel and the shampoo. Marco, tugging on the rings of my nipples, warned me:

—Don’t even think about telling Tato we fucked you.

They were afraid of him and respected him. I showered, running my hands over the welts, that strange mix of pain and pleasure. When I saw myself in the mirror, my body crossed with marks everywhere, something flared inside me. I rubbed my clit until I exploded in the orgasm I’d been owed, making sure my moans couldn’t be heard. I stayed there for a while, contemplating myself from every angle.

***

When Tato came back, the other two were in the kitchen preparing lunch as if nothing had happened. I came out of the shower wrapped in the towel, but he took it off me and left it on a chair. First he made me bend over with my hands on the table to check that the plug was still inside, and pushed it all the way in, drawing a sigh from me.

—Good girl. You’re going to need it, because later I’m using this ass and I want it ready. While you’re here, you’re naked and only in heels, so people can see that ass of yours moving when you walk. Sit down. You’re the guest; I don’t want you wasting energy unless it’s to give us pleasure.

I sat naked while they set the table, throwing me looks each time they passed, with that little grin of complicity over their prank. My head, though, was already on something else: on that enormous cock of my master’s that later would be at my disposal.

We ate some macaroni that tasted like heaven because of how hungry I was. After the second course, the dessert, and the coffees, they cleared the table, spread my towel over it with a cushion, and Tato made me lie back on it, stretched out fully.

—Now a good massage, until these damn stripes disappear. I don’t want trouble with the boss.

***

All three of them undressed. Leo and Marco’s cocks, next to the Caribbean guy’s, looked like toys. They took up positions on either side of me, smeared cream on their fingers, and ran them over the welts. I had six hands on me, massaging me nonstop. I began to relax; it was a deep, slow pleasure.

They kept focusing on my breasts, rising and falling with my ragged breathing, and also on my pubis, parting my lips, with one finger slipping inside now and then. As expected, so much contact ended with three erections that, in turns, ended up in my mouth. The one that wasn’t between my lips was in my hands. I came in several orgasms, especially when Tato had his turn and filled my mouth for real.

They stroked my breasts, tugging on the rings, and pulled on the pendant that pierced the hood of my clit, still swollen and sensitive from the punishment of the night before. But even with the massage from the front and the back, the marks wouldn’t fade. When they saw it was pointless, they lifted me off the table.

—Come on, get to work —Tato ordered—. Take out the plug, sit with your back to my cock and work it all the way in.

Getting that thing into my ass wasn’t easy, but with the opening already loosened by the plug and the massage cream, letting myself down little by little and letting out the occasional howl, it went all the way in. Leo and Marco watched me in ecstasy, seated on either side of the sofa, never stopping touching me while I rode impaled. So part of the afternoon went by, fucked by all three of them.

***

By around five or six —I had already lost track of time— Tato told me to shower and get dressed, that we were going back to the hotel. I put on the little clothes I’d arrived with: a very short denim miniskirt and a crop top cut off just under the breasts. It barely covered me; the marks on my thighs, stomach, and back were on display.

Going out into the street dressed like that, marked and with a man beside me, didn’t go unnoticed. Worse was crossing the hotel lobby. The reception staff and some of the guests were devouring me with their eyes. To the employees I was already “the hotel girl”: they’d seen me going up and down with several different men over the course of those days.

In the room I undressed, as I was always ordered to do whenever I waited for Esteban. He came in without knocking, with the card my boyfriend Raúl had given him, and caught me with Tato’s cock in my mouth. When he saw the marks on me, he froze.

—Who beat you like that?

Tato stepped forward.

—Boss, yesterday I took her to Omar’s place and, without me knowing it, some clients marked her with a whip.

—You’re an idiot. I told you you could make use of her, but who on earth takes her to a place like that? This woman is far classier.

—You’re right, boss. But I’m sure it turns you on even more to fuck a marked slut.

—And how am I supposed to hand her back to Raúl tomorrow in this state?

—Don’t worry. He beats her too, it won’t surprise him.

—It had better not, because I’m interested in keeping him on my side.

***

With those two, everything was a mystery. First an unknown rite, now plans in which I was the bargaining chip. I forgot it the moment Esteban took out a wad of bills.

—Here you have the three thousand euros we agreed with Raúl, and another five hundred as a tip for the services. You’re a money-making machine. Too bad you’re leaving.

I thanked him for the gesture with a kiss. With that and what I’d earned those days, I was going home with more than five thousand euros, even though I’d barely set foot on the island’s beaches.

He sat on the bed and made me stand in front of him. Working between my legs, he unclipped the metal dragon pendant that hung from the ring in my clit.

—I already told you that in Chinese mythology the dragon is a sign of wealth, and I wasn’t wrong. Your cunt proved it to me. Now it’s time to return you to your master just as you came, only more fucked and sluttier.

—You can say that again. I haven’t stopped since I got here. I’ve already lost count of how many cocks I took care of.

In its place he clipped on the little ownership medallion I always wear, with my master’s initials. On one hand I was grateful, because the dragon shape bothered me with every movement; on the other I would miss it, because that same weight kept rubbing against my clit nonstop.

—Now sit down and listen to why you woke up painted. You know I’m fond of mythology, and Tato, being Caribbean, is devoted to rites. Last night a man came to place your body and your spirit under protection, invoking Pomba Gira to keep you and have you work for us.

—You’re speaking Chinese to me. I don’t understand a thing.

Then he showed me on his phone what that gibberish meant. Pomba Gira, I read, is a rebellious spirit of Afro-Brazilian origin, venerated so that women don’t leave brothels, but also to protect them. Mythology describes her as a woman ahead of her time, beautiful and intelligent, who faced life with courage and enormous seductive power.

A shiver ran through me as I read it, but at the same time I saw myself reflected in that definition. That goddess considered women like me chosen ones.

—So I’m a Pomba Gira?

—Exactly. An exceptional woman.

The compliment pleased me and inflated my ego, already big enough as it was. Esteban went on, while Tato listened attentively.

—We want you to stay here and work for us. You’d have a house, and if you want, Tato would live with you, taking care of you and keeping an eye on the clients. Monday through Friday you’d work in a fitted-out room; Friday and Saturday, at the club, as a go-go dancer and taking care of whoever asks for you. You’ve already seen it: you wouldn’t lack work or money. We’d go fifty-fifty, expenses paid. What do you think?

I liked what I was hearing, but it meant a radical change. Nothing held me back, except my boyfriend and master, Raúl.

—It’s not bad, but I need to think about it. I’d have to leave my master, and right now I have pending matters that depend on him. In a few weeks I’ll give you my answer.

—If it’s yes, I assure you you won’t regret it.

***

The idea of always having that cock I worshipped so much at my disposal didn’t bother me at all. And even less the idea of submitting to that man as a sex slave. My submissive side needed someone who would decide over me without asking my opinion, someone who would treat me roughly; even the dependence of handing over part of my money seduced me.

I had lived all that these days, and it had turned me on enormously. I was ready to serve and obey unconditionally. I felt that this was the path, with no way back, and I knew I would only reach that level with Tato, not with Raúl.

On one hand, I felt guilty: Raúl had always given me what I needed. But my demands had grown a lot over those days, and now only Tato could satisfy them. On the other hand, it was Raúl who had taken me to that point from which I no longer wanted or could get out. It was hard for me to admit it, but I loved coming to that conclusion. Once again, my cunt was doing the thinking for my head.