Read part 1 here. Warning: the following short story fall under the category of erotic horror and it’s consist of graphic sexual content.
After that first night, my captor hasn’t touched me. In fact, he only came into the room he kept me three times a day, bringing me food and water. The room I was being kept wasn’t big, it has an old bed in the middle of the room and had an adjoining small bathroom and that was pretty much it. It didn’t have any windows, so I was pretty sure it was underground. The room was kept dark all the time, with small amount of light seeping through beneath the door from whatever was on the other side of the door. He took off the blindfold from my eyes but for me it was just the same, there was never enough light to see his face or much anything else. My ankle was shackled with chains to the steel frame bed that was bolted to the concrete wall, and it was just long enough for me to reach the bathroom but not quite reaching the door.
I lost track of time. The only reference was the meals, the day is over after the third meal. At first I tried to keep track of how many days I was kept prisoner, but finally I lost count after dozen or so. First few days, I completely freaked out whenever he entered the room, thinking that he came to do a repeat of the first night. Gradually, my uncontrollable fear towards him lessened. First, fear turned into rage, and I tried to attack him once when he brought me my food. With all my might, I attempted to punch him in the face, missing the center of his face and hurting my own wrist in the process. He didn’t retaliate, at least not physically. He just didn’t bring me any food or water for a long long time, so long that when he finally brought me a bottle of water, I hardly had the strength to lift the bottle. I gave up fighting, deciding that to survive, I needed to have my strength.
When anger subsided, then came boredom. I was utterly without stimulation, and I was about to go crazy being left all alone except for meal times. I started talking to the man. First I begged him to let me go, then tried to ask him why and what he planned to do with me. No matter what I said or asked him, he remained silent, he always just brought the food and left. Until one day, when he was about to leave after another silent treatment on his part and desperate begging on my part, I finally asked the right question: “What do I need to do for you to talk to me?” He stopped just before he reached the door, and he finally spoke, giving me an one-word answer: “Obey.”
He left the room after that, leaving me a little shaken and confused. That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. I kept going through my options, which shouldn’t keep me awake at all because the list was very short. Either I obeyed like he said and being made to do God knew what, or kept being ignored and ultimately he was able to do whatever he wanted to me anyway. So if I acted like I had surrendered, maybe eventually he would trust me enough to not lock me up in this dungeon of his and then I might have a chance to make my escape.
So the next day, when I heard the door opening for breakfast time, I quickly got off the bed and knelt on the floor, my hands resting on my thighs, my head tilted downwards and my eyes cast down on the floor. A symbol of yielding. Usually, he would come in and close the door behind him right away, but this time he kept the door open, letting the dim light shine through the doorway as he walked closer to me to inspect my position. With my eyes looking down, I could only see his leather shoes.
With a quiet but firm voice, he finally spoke to me. “Good girl. So you are ready to do as I say?”
“I am ready,” I said.
He thought about my reply for a while, then said: “Very well. I know you have lots of questions. Tell you what, every time you please me, you may ask me a question and I just might answer it.”
I wanted to ask him how I could please him, but stopped myself because he just said I could ask question after I had pleased him. Then I got a small urge to do something that I thought might please him, I bent down forward and rest my lips on his leather shoe, giving it a kiss. When I knelt back up, he caressed my cheek almost tenderly. “Very good. You earned one question,” I heard him say and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“How can I please you?” I asked.
He gave a little chuckle and answered: “Anyway you want to show me respect, by obeying my every command.”
After that day, he tested my obedience step by step. Kneeling and crawling at first, then him telling me to take off my clothes, making me touch myself, watching me pee and shower. Then telling me to pleasure myself, but he would always stop me before I managed to climax. Then he told me to pleasure him, taking off his clothes, touching him, giving him a hand job. Then it turned into blowjobs, then sex and rough fucking. In that way, he answered many of my questions. Turned out I wasn’t the first woman he took as a sex slave. For him, it was endlessly satisfying to turn proud women into obedient slaves against their will. He enjoyed catching them, imprisoning them and training them. After the training, when the women would be turned into a submissive, when they had completely surrendered themselves to him, he would grand them the ultimate reward. With the reward, the slave could ask for anything, even to be free to leave. And according to him, he had grant that wish of freedom for every women that were trained before me. After taking them blind-folded and in the trunk of his car back to where he had captured them, he would then move on to find another girl for the training. The vicious cycle continued. I didn’t have other choices but to believe him. I had to believe that by obeying his every whim and desire, he would give me the big reward, some day he would let me go.
So I continued to do as he said. Although my mind was struggling to obey, my body became his to command. It was like his cock was a magic wand, I would get aroused sometimes against my will and my body was always ready for his invasion. But still, he didn’t let me climax. Whenever he felt that I was close to breaking point, he would stop me. Slowly I became desperate for release and I would wait for him to leave the room and attempt to masturbate. But like he was watching me, he probably was, he would know what I had done and as punishment, he would shackle my wrists to the bedpost so I couldn’t touch myself for a whole night. After that, I didn’t dare to touch myself again.
And then I got enough. My body had had enough. Getting an orgasm became my number one priority, my ego, my pride be damned. One time when he fucked me from behind exceptionally brutally, I cracked and started to beg for his permission to come. I told him I would do anything, if he could only let me come. He responded to my desperate pleas by fucking me harder still and then climaxing deep inside of me. After that he pulled out of me abruptly, making sperm spilling out of my vagina. With a snap of his fingers, I got down to the floor on all fours and followed him to the bathroom. He told me to climb into the bathtub and gave me a magic wand vibrator.
“My little slut, if you want to earn the permission to come, put that vibrator on high and press it firmly against your clit. And then I’m going to test if you are really a good slut, and if you pass the test, you may get your orgasm,” he told me the rules.
I instantly did as he said and put the strongly vibrating wand on my most sensitive part. I was kneeling in the bathtub and my knees started to shake from the waves of pleasure going through me. My right hand gripped the vibrator tightly while my left hand grabbed the rim of the bathtub painfully hard. I could only hope he would already start his test, as I wasn’t at all sure how long I could hold out. Suddenly, I felt some warm liquid being sprayed on my chest, and almost at once I realized it was urine. He was peeing on me! I recoiled and was deeply disgusted. I tried to pull back but he grabbed my hair and forcefully pulled me back under the shower of his urine and it hit my face. I struggled hard, but that only got me more thoroughly more soaked. In the process of struggling and being reduced as a human toilet, something strange happened in my body. I almost completely forgot that I still had a vibrating wand pressed against my clit, and all the struggling and humiliation created a chain reaction in my body that I simply wasn’t able to stop even if I wanted to. I exploded on the wand, climaxing so hard under the rain of urine that all I could feel was the intense pulsing between my legs.
Before I realized what I had done, coming without permission, a hard slap landed on my face and I heard his calm voice questioning why I was being a bad slut and disobeying. I started sobbing uncontrollably. Partly because I was afraid what punishment I was to receive, but mostly I cried because I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I was ready to receive any punishment, because I deserved it.
I didn’t fight back when he pulled me out of the bathtub and pushed me down on the floor on my back. He then took something from the cabinet under the small sink. I had no idea what he was about to do but I heard the water running in the sink. Then I felt his hands on my ankles, lifting my legs high up in the air. I started panicking when I felt something poking at my asshole. Something thin slipped inside of my ass, and I freaked out when I felt warm liquid starting to fill my ass. I struggled a bit, realizing he was giving me an enema. Humiliation flooded me, but again his harsh voice reminding me that I deserved this punishment made me stop struggling. All I did was sob softly when he forced a large amount of water inside of me. After he was satisfied, he removed the enema kit and he left me lying on the floor, humiliated, broken and crying. I could barely hold the water in, and I rushed to the toilet on the second he left the room.
After a long while, he came back, finding me sitting the bathtub under the hot water shower. He cut the water and ordered me out and crawl to the bed. So the punishment wasn’t over yet. He told me to get on all fours and spread my legs. I heard him getting onto the bed behind me, then I felt something slippery being massaged around and into my asshole. I knew what was coming next, and I started to shake all over. The few times I attempted anal sex, it was very painful. I was scared. He started working the oil inside of my asshole, first with one finger, then two, then three. Once I was well prepared, he positioned his hard cock right at my entrance. With one swift jab, he thrust into my asshole. I cried out and tears ran down my face when I desperately tried to breathe through the pain and I could feel my asshole pulsing, trying to accommodate his cock. He gave me time to adjust to his girth. Once my whimpers died down, he started moving with a fast pace, creating a sensation I’ve never felt in my whole life. It was like me balancing on the hair thin line of pain and pleasure, each thrust felt like ecstasy and each thrust made me want to pull away because it was just too much. His hands held my hips firmly in place though as he took what he wanted and all I could do was take it. I felt like I was going crazy. In the midst of the world disappearing around me, I heard him say four magical words: “Now you can come.”
It was like his words opened a floodgate. Waves and waves of pleasure hit me life a tsunami and I came hard with his cock fucking my ass, and another orgasm followed, then another. I lost count and the orgasms merged into one giant one, until I went blind and checked out of the world. He quite literally fucked my brains out. When I returned to the earth, I was on the bed alone and I quickly fell asleep, physically and mentally exhausted beyond belief. But I could have sworn that weirdly, I had a smile one my face when I entered dreamland.
TO BE CONTINUED…
I hoped you enjoyed the read. This little story will reach conclusion next Wednesday with part three. Until then, stay kinky! 😉