Jul
18
Imagine... Five large black men bring you, struggling, to a basement space. Wordlessly they strip you naked and leave you alone on the floor. The lights go out. It is pitch black. Slowly, you feel your way all around, to see where you are, to look for escape. The initial thing you notice is the thick padding on everything, even the floor. Leather. Then that the floor and walls aren't flat. You crawl. You'll find hills and valleys everywhere. Like a California hot tub, you can find locations molded into the room to sit. And God knows what else... There is a toilet inside the area. And a shower. A sturdy 4 posted bed is within the middle. Hours pass...
A small spotlight comes on. As you struggle for your feet, you see that the ceiling is mirrored as well as the walls are covered with smaller recesses. Places to attach ropes...
“She has been left alone and in darkness?”
“For two days with just toilet water, as you directed.” I've by no means trained a woman ahead of, but I have been hired to train you. I was recruited mainly because I developed techniques for breaking wild horses in an impossibly short time. Riding them in hours rather than weeks. I turn on the observation light and examine you through the one-way glass. As you struggle for your feet, I silently admire your ass and your tits. I'm gonna enjoy riding you. I turn the light off, returning you to total dark
You could have had no human contact for a lengthy time. Your body is beginning to stink, the shower doesn't work, and you're desperately hungry. For days you are already drinking through the toilet, thankful that it flushes. You hear the sound in the outer front door being unlocked. Your heart begins to pound because the paddle locks pop as well as the bar is drawn. Alert like a cat, not even breathing, you catch just about every nuance of sound as an outer door is unlocked and opened, then closed and locked again. Nevertheless no one is from the dungeon with you. He is behind the inner doorway. You know it. Waiting.
Light blinds you, then a peephole inside front door opens with a solid thud. He is looking at you. The peephole closes before the man enters. The diffuse terror you've got felt has a form: you are not alone! He carries a whip, and despite the fact that he does not flash it you're really aware of it. You shrink away, afraid of the man and his whip. He closes the distance gradually, so as to not frighten you, but as his hand begins to reach out you back again away, then run. Without a word he starts whipping. “No!” You stumble across the room, followed closely by your tormentor. He does not hurry, he does not have to. The reach on the whip allows him to walk a significantly smaller circle nearer the center in the room. He keeps up a quick pace, lashing you lightly but generally. Specially your ass. Gradually it's pinked, then reddened. Your ass stings and burns badly just before you finally collapse, unable to operate anymore. You steel yourself for the next blow, but it in no way comes.
“Stand.” He's nevertheless carrying the whip, and you also do it with caution. Nevertheless weakened from running, it's a struggle. But you stand, heart pounding, breath strong and deep. Not even trying to cover oneself, you stand naked before him. “Stay.” He moves all around you, behind you. Touching your back again and pushing lightly, he says “bend.” He touches your asshole (No!) and you also bolt. He is on you right away, whipping you like ahead of. It does not take lengthy for you to submit this time. “Stand.” You do it. “Still.” He moves all-around behind you, and again his hand on your back again starts the directive. “Bend.” You desire to run, but you know that you'll only be whipped. You obey. You bend at the waist as his hand guides you. He greases your asshole, touches a dildo to your ass, then slowly presses it into you. The hand on your back insists that you remain however. You stay quite however. He has broken you. In less than an hour. The lights come up inside the observation space and you also see that the mirrors have individuals behind them. You can't hear them, but you see them. They're applauding. As the man leaves you hear them by way of the open front door:
“That's incredible. Three commands and a penetration in less than an hour!”
“When will she be ready?”
“$50,000 for one particular night with her.”
The doorway shuts, and once again it's silent, and dark as the inner door is latched, then the outer front door. A cold shower starts when you stand with the dildo even now up your ass. You happen to be left to ponder your situation. Will you be sold by the hour to whomever will pay?
This day begins because the others. Music wakens you. After toileting is the routine: an hour of yoga stretches, an hour of working out, a prolonged hot bath. The last point you do is shave. Legs are shaved twice, just to be sure. Your most private place, though, you take a great deal far more care with. A extremely close shave there. Must not be caught with stubble on your sex. You happen to be prepared. It really is 10 AM.
Music starts and the spotlights come on. It truly is time. Your heart pounds, but rather than waiting, terrified, as you did weeks ago, you rush toward the front door, to the examination table. The table, just feet from the door, faces it. You mount it. Spreading your self as you've been taught, you wait. Spotlights shine on naked flesh. Alert like a cat, not even breathing, you catch each and every nuance of sound as bolts pop, hinges squeel, and a front door you've only seen once slams solidly shut. Nevertheless no 1 is inside the dungeon with you. He's behind the inner doorway. You know it. Waiting. The thud of the peephole is nevertheless loud in your mind as you really feel him gazing directly at your private flesh. Lifting your pelvis from your table, you push your sex out. Legs wide, the heat of a spotlight warms delicate flesh. You hold out for your inspection...