Warning: Contains heavy smut. Do not read if you are underage.
A/N: Thank you to @admincl for the input and helping me decide on how I wanted this to end.
The first package had arrived just before a meeting on a Monday morning, the stark red of the large bow against the tanned box the only reason your secretary had called out to you as you left the office, her voice enunciating the curled white letters with a thick french accent.
‘Louboutin’s… Jay won’t be pleased when he sees the credit card bill this month.’ She’d winked slyly, sharing a knowingly smug smile with you.
‘Honey, I know you don’t think I use a man’s money to buy my shoes… They’re probably a gift from him to apologise for canceling on me tonight. Leave them on my desk, I’ll return them later. I don’t take bribes.’ You’d said with a laugh, swishing the thickness of your hair over your shoulders before leaving, loud heels clicking with authority on the tiles as you departed.
If it hadn’t been for the rush you’d been in, you would have checked them a lot sooner. You would have noted the blank card, gold script scrawling anonymous across it. You would have understood that the lack of sender was an indication the shoes weren’t for the reason you’d thought. But you hadn’t. With the stress of your day, they’d fallen completely from your mind. It wasn’t until you’d sauntered back from your meeting that you’d spied them, perched dutifully on your desk and patiently awaiting your return.
Sparrow Hood! I finally gave up on ever seeing Mattel make a Sparrow hood doll. So I decided to make one of my own. Though he’s not perfect, and I do believe that Sparrow really could have used his own face mold, I will take what I can get with Mattel slowly winding down EAH.
Sparrow was made using a Dexter doll. He was re-rooted using several different shades of orange/reds/browns. His jeans and jean vest are both make from a very thin stretch jean material (the jean material was way easier to work with the leather type material). The pants were made from a pattern purchased from RequiemArt, and the vest was make using a pattern I constructed. All this buttons and studs were hand glued on…and I have to say it took forever. I included an extra piece to the sleeve of the vest, so the extra piece would fray, creating a look similar to the animation. I hand printed his t-shirt using paint and stamps to get some kind of pattern that was as close as I could get to the webisode look. All his accessories are constructed of Fimo clay, with some having studs glued on. I have to thank @kara-relm and @wscttfrbs-eah for the help with Sparrow’s pins. I’ve never painted so small in my life so hope I did them justice ;) His boots are not show accurate, but I only had a pair of Hunter boots to work with so I made them as close as to the animation as possible. His belt is made using a faux leather, and is attached together with Velcro in the back, making it adjustable. I don’t even want to talk about the making the hat…lets just say it was a pain in my….. Now onto his guitar. I used a MyFroggy video for the basic construct idea (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIpXisS0OPc&t=154s), made a pattern, cut out a lot of card board pieces, glued them all together, painted on the details, and ended up with a pretty light and show accurate guitar
I hope you all like him. He was actually really fun to make and I’m so happy to have added him to my collection.
at a high point in life. He guessed he was depressed but he would power through
it - things would turn around soon, they just had to. He had recently finished
his education and yet he was not able to find a job, he’d been to several interviews
and sent out his CV to all kinds of organizations, but he had not yet struck
any luck. On top of this it had been a very traumatic year with tragedy
striking him and his family, which had left to an estrangement and he did not
have any close relationship with them anymore. This left him feeling very
isolated and lonely, which didn’t help with everything else going on. He had a
date on his calendar of when he wouldn’t be able to pay the rent of his
apartment anymore. Just thinking of the fact that this date crept ever nearer gave
him fits of anxiety and a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. Most day he
didn’t feel there was much to live for. He had come into a very miserable
day-to-day routine. To relieve himself of these feelings and keep his mind on
other things he’d resorted to his more or less usual hobby of watching porn and
jerking of several times a day. It had been a bad habit that had started in his
early teens. Over the years the type of porn had developed in a way that even
he himself wasn’t sure he liked. In the beginning, it had been the normal
softcore kind, blowjobs, fucking and generally good-looking guys being sexual
together. Then he had explored the fetish and kinky kinds, and eventually he ended
up in the realm of BDSM. This had become his obsession of the last few years. Leather,
rubber, whipping, bondage, chastity, piercings, enslavement, objectification,
serving a master. It turned him on like nothing else. Normal fucking scenes or
blowjobs didn’t even make him aroused anymore, he was completely hooked on
hardcore BDSM and would often fantasize of being in such a scene himself. As
Peter was a closeted homosexual and a virgin this was therefore the world in which
he lived out his sexuality. A world of, to him, unrealistic fantasies. He knew
he would never experience such things himself. How could he? He was by now
highly educated academic which would find his place in the world and live a
perfectly respectable life. Little did he know that fantasies sometimes aren’t
that far away.
It was a humid and warm evening when
Peter went out for one of his usual walks. He often took walks around the city,
usually lasting an hour or two. He took one of his normal routes, which went
through several parks and the outskirts of a small forest at the edge of the
city. He was listening to the chirps of many birds up in the trees and craned
his neck as he went, trying to spot some of them. His attention wasn’t focused
on anything else. Perhaps this was the reason he didn’t see them coming.
Completely unprepared a wooden bat struck the back of his head, and darkness
engulfed him. He was completely unaware of the two men picking him up from the
forest path and carrying him to their car. Unknowing of the fact that they
restrained him in the back of the car. He didn’t experience any of the long
drive, or the carrying of him into the large house and down the stairs. In
fact, he didn’t take notice of anything at all for several hours, until he woke
up, much later.
His head hurt. He could feel a
pressure on the back of his skull, something had hit him and he’d swollen up.
What had happened? Where was he? He felt dizzy. Everything was a bit hazy. He
had been out for a walk… and then… then what? With a jolt of fear Peter opened
his eyes and the view of what was before him made him dizzy, he didn’t know
where to look, and realizing his own predicament made him panic. The jolt of
fear in his stomach felt like ice-cold liquid that spread throughout his body,
numbing him. He felt himself starting to tremble and his gut caused unpleasant
convulsions. His scalp became dewy with beads of sweat. He was in a very large
room. A basement by the looks of it because where were no windows. But it was also
much larger and had higher ceilings than was usual for a basement. But this was
by far the least unusual thing about it. The floor was made from concrete and
painted in a deep red. The walls were painted black, but this was hardly
noticeable due to all the things that was attached to, hanging from or standing
in front of them. Peter saw cages, stockades, whips, harnesses, rubber suits,
gags, butt plugs, dildos, a fucking machine, manacles, shackles, leather belts,
benches and medieval looking iron contraptions. In some places hooks and
pulleys were attached in the ceiling and walls. There were also a great number
of cupboards, all with their doors closed. At the far end, he saw a door that
was open and seemed to lead to a corridor. And in the middle of the room there
was a large sitting group of leather sofas and arm chairs, around a massive
round table which seemed to be covered in a layer of shiny rubber. And in the
biggest sofa, facing him from the other side of the table he saw them. Two men.
The leather of the sofa creaked as they stood up and walked towards him. Peter
understood what was going on. He had been kidnapped by these men and now they
wanted to abuse him. But he didn’t want that. No. That was illegal. Fucking
illegal. He hadn’t asked for this. He had to get out. Had to escape. He started
to struggle but soon found that this was impossible. The men had stripped him
naked and put a big ball gag in his mouth. Then they had attached leather cuffs
to his wrists and ankles, each of which was locked by a padlock. The cuffs had
then been attached to thick, steel wires that went to the ceiling and floor.
Four steel wires each held a limb stretched out, keeping Peter in mid-air,
hanging from his own wrists, in a great big cross. Not much movement was
possible. Yet Peter tried. He flexed his fists, flexed the muscles of his
entire body. Jerked his head in any direction he could. He tried to kick out.
He screamed. He shrieked behind the gag but all that came out was muffled, incoherent
nonsense. His wrists hurt. The struggling against the restraints caused burning
due to friction. He started to cry as he looked into the eyes of the two men,
trying to plead with them without words. The two men however did nothing. The
quietly watched Peter struggle and panic himself into exhaustion, every now and
then an evil grin flickered across their faces. When he finally stopped struggling and his entire
body was drenched in sweat, drool dripping from his chin and he felt lightheaded
from the adrenaline wearing off, one of the men spoke.
“Hello, Peter”, said the man to the
left. Through teary eyes Peter now started to take in their appearances, in
spite of his fear and terror he couldn’t help but finding them breathtaking.
The man who had just spoken was wearing leather pants, high leather boots, a
leather vest and a leather police cap. He had leather armbands on both his
upper arms and wrists. His nipples and septum were pierced and he sported a
truly magnificent black beard. The other man, standing on the right simply wore
a pair of latex or rubber leggings, short rubber boots and a pair of rubber
gloves. Around his neck he had a thick metal chain, locked with a padlock. He
had both his hair and beard trimmed short. Both of them had perfect physiques,
and with their tanned, muscled bodies they looked like they might have just
come from a fetish fashion show. “Good to see that you have calmed yourself
down”, said the first man again. His voice was deep and a little hoarse. “- you
seem to want to get out of there”, he continued. Peter answered by nodding his
head as fast as he could up and down. Perhaps it was just a dream? He wanted to
go home. He wanted out. His body was hurting. He sobbed behind the gag.
“However…”, said the man again as the
man on the right, the man in rubber, started to walk towards him. “- little P
doesn’t seem to want that, now does it?” He leered. Peter looked down and saw that
his cock was fully erect, and standing tall. But that wasn’t because he was
turned on surely, simply a biproduct of the fact that his struggling and
adrenaline had caused such high blood flow. The rubbered man reached him and
took his cock in one of his rubbered hands and started to jerk him off, with
slow hard motions. Peter couldn’t help himself. He stopped sobbing and a small,
high-pitched moan escaped him. The rubbered man jerking his penis grinned
slightly. He felt so confused.
“You see, P, we have a… hm…. job
proposition for you”, said the man in leather again and took a couple of steps
towards him and staring him dead on in the eyes. Peter found his gaze extremely
hard to face, and looked away, not able to keep looking into it. “- you see, we
have monitored you for some time”, he continued and Peter looked back to him,
not understanding what he meant. “We have been witnessing your internet
activity for over a year now, including visited websites and search history.
You really should make it harder for hackers to get into your computer, P”, he
said and wagged his finger back and forth, making a tutting sound. “- and we
found your internet activity to be interesting, to say the least. And we also
know you are looking for a job.” Peter moaned again, the rubbered man who had been
jerking him off had let go and had taken a firm grip around his balls and
squeezed them hard, before then retreating and positioning himself again beside
the other man who was doing all the talking. Peter couldn’t think straight, the
shock, the pain and now the fact that he had been bugged confused him. He tried
to just focus on continuing to listen.
“You see, for a few years now we have
been talking to expand our family, as it has just been the two of us. But not
with a cat, or a dog or a fucking adopted kid to take care of, no… but a little
slave boy, to give us pleasure, and in return”, he paused suddenly, grabbed the
rubbered man’s head and forced it towards him and met him in a violent kiss
that turned into making out. The two men made out violently for a few seconds
while Peter watched. An involuntary moan escaped him again, which made the two
men break apart and watch him. “- and in return, the slave gets to learn its
place in the world, serving us.”, he finished. Peter just stared at them. They
were insane, criminals, dangerous people, and yet… images from his memory
seemed to flicker before his eyes, the scenes of rubber slaves, gimps and
objects in various forms of bondage that served their masters, and he was
reminded of the feeling of jealousy, of frustration, of thinking that ‘if only
that could be me’. But that had just been fantasies. Things like that didn’t
really happen. This was absolutely insane.
“We don’t expect you to be able to
answer immediately, so instead, let us give you a demonstration of the kinds of
things we do here”, the leathered man said again, and then both of them began
to move. For the next couple of minutes, they went about the room, collecting
various toys and devices and brought them to the big table in the middle of the
room. Peter’s arms, shoulders and back really started to hurt now from carrying
his own bodyweight and he was still terrified of the situation, but less so
than a minute ago, super horny thoughts had invaded his mind instead, and a
small spark of excitement of what would happen to him kept the panic at bay.
Also, if the men really had wanted to hurt him, they would already have done
so. Sure - they had beaten him unconscious, but at least nothing worse had
happened to him… yet.
The rubbered man approached him with
a box that rattled as he went. From within the box he fished up a small thing
of leather, metal and chains. It was a parachute that he, kneeling in front of
Peter, attached around his balls. He then proceeded to lift a few weighted
metal balls from the box, each with a hook on it, and attached it to the chains
under the parachute. Peter felt how a heavy weight now tugged his balls down.
It hurt a bit, but mostly it felt good. He shuddered slightly. Not out of fear
this time, but out of satisfaction. He liked the way the tug felt. Next a
blindfold was placed over his eyes. The inside of the blindfold was completely
black. He was blinded. He had to rely on his hearing to sense what was going
on. The next thing he knew was something slimy, cold and hard forcing its way
into his ass. It wouldn’t go in. Then he felt a hand whipping him hard on one
of his butt cheeks, and he forced his anus to relax and accept the intrusion as
he felt his ass burn with the red imprint of a hand. His cock twitched. As he
closed his sphincter around the object he got goose bumps all over his body. It
felt so good. He could hear the two men chuckling. Next, he felt how what must
be clothespins started to be attached to various areas of his body, his arms,
legs, torso, and finally his nipples. His sensations were changing now. The
pain didn’t really feel as painful as before, being hornier seemed to stifle it
somehow. His mind was now playing tricks on him. Instead of focusing on his
predicament and aiding him in trying to get out of the situation it instead
replayed similar situations in his mind’s eye, how he finally got to sense what
the men in all those clips had sensed. He was inside his fantasy. The next
thing that happened pushed this feeling even further. He felt how something was
done to the parachute tugging at his balls and the butt plug that was intruding
inside his tight ass. Then a tickling sensation started, jolts of electricity
shot through his ass and balls in prickling jolts. He could never have imagined
such a sensation. It was incredible. In his wildest dreams, he would never have
though that anything could feel so good. Then his entire body shuddered and he
whimpered as a riding crop slashed through the air and hit the head of his
erect cock, which at the moment felt harder and more pumped up than it had ever
“Enjoying yourself, P?”, said one of
the voices. Peter couldn’t answer but managed a bellowing, guttural sound from
his throat. It wasn’t really an answer, more a reaction of the sudden stinging
of his cockhead. The voices laughed. The whip slashed again, it burned his
cockhead and shot waves of incredible sensations through his entire body. “Oh,
you like the pain of that, do you, P? Quite the little pain pig, aren’t you,
eh?”, said one of the voices. Peter didn’t answer. He was so horny he couldn’t
think properly. He tried to thrust the air. His cock felt like it was about to
explore. He had never been so horny in his entire life. The feeling was
overwhelming, his entire guts seemed to be pressurized by the power of it.
“Just imagine it, P”, said the voice
and whipped him again. Peter groaned. “- living here with us. Serving us.
Becoming a slave, a pig, an object, just like you always wanted.” The whip
slashed again and Peter felt how the electricity in his ass and balls became
more intense. “Being put in various forms of bondage”, continued the voice and
whipped him again. “- sleep sacks, stockades, hogties, suspensions,
predicaments, isolation boxes, cells, or just acting like a piece of furniture
in our home until we are ready to use you.”, the whip hit him again. A hand
grasped around his cock and started to jerk him off in slow, hard motions.
“Drinking our piss, being fucked in the throat, licking our cum off of our
boots, and being fucked in that slave hole of yours as we see fit.” The whip
hit him again, but this time attacking the various clothespins on his body,
forcing them off and clattering to the floor. The hand jerked him harder and
faster, keeping him right on the edge, but not for long. “So, what do you say
P? Does it sound like fun?” Peter had trouble following what the voice said. Its
words and the stimulation of his entire body was overwhelming him. He couldn’t
think straight. He just knew that he didn’t want it to end, he wanted more.
Then several things happened at once. The clothespins on his nipples were
whipped off, intense pain shot through his body. He felt like he was floating.
Then the ball gag in his mouth was removed at the same time as the hand jerking
him off started to do it fast and vigorously. He felt the churning sensation of
ejaculation bubbling inside him. He was about to come. “What do you say, P?”,
the voice said again. “Is this what you want?” Waves of pleasure came over him.
Filled his entire being. Every fiber of his body shook. The leather restraints
creaked and the weights hanging from his balls clanked as he tensed every
muscle in his body. Peter screamed his answer so loudly that his voice cracked
and become hoarse. He came in an incredibly explosion of cum, emptying his
storage of cum like it had never been emptied before. Before his ejaculation
had ended however, the voice had smilingly said “Excellent.”, and reached down
to lift something up from behind him that he hadn’t seen. It was a tank with an
attached gas mask piece that went over Peter’s mouth and nose. “Prepare to be
transformed”, said the voice as Peter inhaled the odd smelling gases. He was
then plunged into darkness once more and his body became limp. The two men set
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Things
didn’t feel right. Where was he? What was going on? He opened his eyes but his
vision was blurry. As things came into focus he started to remember. The men. The
kidnapping. The dungeon. Him becoming their slave. What had he done? He had said
yes. What the HELL had he done? Fuck. FUCK. He started hyperventilating and his
body felt like it was heating up rapidly.
“Oh good morning, P”. Peter looked up
and around him as his eyes acclimatized more to the light. He was still in the
dungeon. And he was still gagged. Was it the morning after? Somehow, he felt
like more timed had passed. An eerie feeling. Something definitely didn’t feel
right. He had been dreaming. Loads. Lots of dreams. What had they been about?
He couldn’t remember. It was all so confusing. He was still gagged. A large
ball filled his mouth. And there were different things feeling odd with his
body. There were pressures and weights in odd placed. His nose, his neck, his
nipples, his cock, and his ass. And his head felt cold. What the fuck had
“Do you know what alopecia
universalis is, P?”, asked the voice. Peter’s eyes focused on the two men. The
bearded man with piercings was now wearing high leather boots and a leather
body harness, stretching from his shoulders down to his crotch. His cock was
fully erect and stood out of the built-in cock ring in the harness. He was
jerking it off slowly. At the end he had a massive PA piercing. The second man stood
to the right of him as before. But this time wearing a full rubber cat suit,
stroking his cock with his open, rubbered hand on outside of the suit. “Do
you?”, the voice asked again. Peter shook his head. What the hell was going on?
He wasn’t horny anymore. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. But he couldn’t.
He was standing on the ground, a spreader bar seemed to keep his feet apart,
and his hands were fastened in cuffs that were stretched towards the ceiling.
His gag seemed to be fastened to some kind of head harness that wouldn’t allow
him to tilt his head up or down, but forced to stare straight forward, facing
“No? Well let me educate you, dear P.
Alopecia universalis is a horrible autoimmune disorder, which is an extreme
form of spot baldness. It causes a person’s follicles to be eradicated by its
own body. And I mean all of it. The hair on your head, chest, arms, legs,
around your genitalia, and even your eyebrows and eyelashes”. The man smiled.
It was an evil thing. A leer. “The disorder is usually rare and seems to be
hereditary. However. There are ways to induce it into healthy individuals. And
this was the first modification we have done to you. You see, P. You have been
sleeping for quite a long time. After you agreed to become our slave we put you
into a medical coma, in order to transform you to a more suitable form before
we start your training. And slaves are not allowed to have hair. Any hair. But
having to shave the slave is really a bore, and we didn’t like that idea. So we
found a more elegant solution. You don’t have a hair on your body left, and
never will again.” The leathered man fell silent as the rubbered man went off
to fetch something. What the fucking hell? A medical coma? Transformed? Never
have hair again? He had no eyebrows? No eyelashes? He blinked his eyes. It felt
different. Naked. He was in shock. He felt panic, sadness, terror and fear. But
he was in shock. He didn’t seem to have enough substance to generate a
reaction. He just kept staring. He felt empty. He saw the rubbered man return,
pushing a full body mirror attached to a black wooden frame on wheels. It was
turned away from Peter, so he couldn’t see himself. The rubbered man had also
brought a rather large, hand-held mirror, which he handed to the leathered man
who was doing all the talking.
“And we have made several other
modifications also, P. And we must thank you for your imagination. Your browser
history was a huge source of inspiration. You’re a sick little fuck, you know
that?”, the man laughed softly. “So let’s take a look, shall we?” The man
approached him with the mirror held to his side, so Peter couldn’t yet see
himself. What else had they done? “Slaves”, the man continued. “- don’t have
human names, now do they, P?”, the man had reached him and stretched up his
free hand and grasped Peter’s chin and forced his head back and forth. “Noo,
that’s right, they don’t. So that’s why we have given you a new name, you will
forget your old one, and now I will present you with your new one.” The man
raised the mirror and Peter saw his own face in it. An ice cold feeling spread
throughout his entire body. He was petrified. He was wearing a head harness,
with a large, red ball gag invading his mouth. He had no hair at all. His scalp
was completely naked and shiny. He had no eyebrows. No eyelashes. His nose was
pierced. A septum piercing. It was large, a heavy, shiny metal ring was hanging
from his nose. He looked completely different. Though these things were nothing
in comparison to what they had done to his forehead. “Welcome into slavery,
PIG, “said the man with powerful emphasis on the last word, smiling at Peter’s
petrified gaze. “It is a bit medieval, I agree, but you did seem to find it
hot, judging from your attempts to find pictures of it on the web, first we
branded it into your forehead using hot irons, and then when it healed up, we
filled the letters in by tattooing the scarred skin.” He looked transfixed at
his forehead. In big, black letters, indented into his very skin of the
forehead it spelled out ‘PIG’. He was ruined. Completely ruined. They had
destroyed him. He would never be able to go out again. Never rejoin society. He
started to cry. He sobbed and felt regret and fear as his vision become blurry
with tears. He wanted to die. He didn’t want this. He wanted it to end. His
life was ruined. What had he gotten himself into? He cried so hard that he gasped
for breath through his nose, almost starting to cough. “Now, now, pig”, said
the voice again, and a surprisingly gentle hand brushed away his tears so he
could see properly again. “- cheer up, we have more things to show you!” He
didn’t want to see anything else. He didn’t want to do anything else. He wanted
out. He wanted to go home. He wanted this to never have happened. He yanked his
restraint. He tried to scream. But he soon gave up. He couldn’t go anywhere. He
The man stepped away from him. “You
can’t see or feel it now”, the man continued, “but there’s a surprise waiting
for you inside your mouth as well. As you are well aware of, your tongue is
going to be one of the most important instruments for serving us. In order for
you to be able to give us more pleasure, we decided to split it. Your tongue is
now split in the middle, almost three inches deep. We also cut the web under
it, allowing it to extend further.” He listened to the man as from a great
distance. He registered the man’s words but couldn’t really process them. He
wiggled around his tongue as much as he could in his mouth. It felt more loose
than before. “And the collar you are wearing has been custom-made for your
specifications.” He saw a round, shiny collar of hard metal around his neck, it
was rather big and thick, but not too oversized. “And it is a true marvel of
engineering”, the man continued. “-it has a built in shock unit, so that if the
pig misbehaves we can use it to instill some discipline. And as you seem to
love body modification so much we have also pierced your nipples”, the man
continued and held the hand-held mirror a few steps away from the him so that
he could see his torso. Two large piercings were set through his nipples. He
also saw that his body had changed somewhat. “As you can see you have also lost
some of that fat, making your features more defined. During the coma we were
sure to give you various types of steroids to offset any muscle atrophy while
still maintaining some weight loss, which has made your body look even hotter,
don’t you think, pig?” He didn’t know what to think. He had visible abs,
somehow, he was thin, but he had visible muscles. Despite his shock and terror,
he felt a small pressure between his legs.
“But now”, said the man and walked
away from him and tossed the hand-held mirror on one of the leather arm chairs
in the middle of the room. “- it’s time for the main attraction, are you ready
pig?” The man went towards the full-length mirror and brought it closer and
turned it around. The pig could now see its full body in the mirror. And what
it saw behind its legs made it shriek in shock. He squealed behind his gag.
“Calm down, pig!”, said the man. “It’s not as bad as you think, look at this”,
he said and held up something metal. It was a curved barbell. But large. Very
large. “This particular modification is entirely thanks to your inspiration,
pig”, said the man and smiled. “As you know, slaves are to be kept in chastity
at all times, little pig cocks aren’t meant to be erect, or to cum, but to be
contained and remain under lock and key. However, a chastity device, just as
with body hair, requires some upkeep. It needs cleaning and whatnot, and it
might break. And it is not always effective in preventing erections. So we have
given you this.” The man indicated the big barbell again. “We have stretched
your urethra, and then made a small incision into it urethra just behind the
ball sack, we then inserted this barbell like a sound into the head of the
slave cock, and pushed the cock, with the barbell in it, as far into the body
as possible, until the barbell came out through the new hole behind the balls.
We then attached the second ball to the barbell, effectively locking the slave
cock inside the body. And don’t worry, pig, we sealed the barbell with two-part
epoxy, to make sure it won’t come loose. And how will you pee, you might ask?
Well, that was a problem, indeed. So we made a new incision into the urethra, a
bit further back, closer to your asshole. Two new holes for the slave. Isn’t
that nice, pig?” The pig stared into the mirror. He could see his ball sack
clearly. And above it, there was a metal ball barely protruding where his cock
used to be. His entire cock was restrained inside the body, held there by a
barbell that came out behind his balls. It was the hottest thing he had ever
seen. Complete chastity. And above the metal ball, in a slight arc, ‘SLAVE’ had
been tattooed in big black block letters. He moaned slightly and felt a
pressure build up inside him. His cock was trying to become erect but couldn’t.
The feeling of pressure was immense. It hurt. “Ah yes, the pig DOES like that,
doesn’t it?”, said the leathered man and went forward and patted the pig on the
cheek. “Good pig.” He couldn’t help it. The horniness of it all invaded his
mind. It was taking over.
The rubbered man started to move the
mirror away. “Oh and one last thing, but it’s a bit hard to show at the moment,
so we have this photo instead”, said the man and went to fetch a polaroid from
the rubber-clad table in the middle of the dungeon. “We have decorated your
slave ass a bit, to make things a bit easier and more fun”. He moaned as the
man held up the polaroid and he saw what was on it. It was polaroid of his ass
cheeks. And they had been tattooed. Each cheek had been tattooed with a large,
black bullseye. “I’m sure you understand the purpose of that don’t you pig?”,
said the man and went to put the polaroid back. He felt utterly confused. The
last couple of minutes had been a roller coaster ride of emotion. Was he
terrified or horny? Did he want out or did he want more? The horniness of what
they had transformed him into came over him. It was a dream come true, but
better. He was getting everything he had ever wanted but would never in entire
lifetime had the courage to seek out. For now he was absorbed by the feeling of
extreme horniness and the extreme pressure of his cock trying to get erect
inside his body.
“And now”, said the man who began to
speak again as the rubbered man returned to his side. “- it’s time to begin
your training, pig. The pig has so much to learn, how to serve, how to lick,
how to pleasure us, we need to work on removing the pig’s gag reflex, the pig’s
hole needs to be stretched, and the pig must learn how to wait for its masters.
And that is the first lesson we are going to give the pig. We have to go away
for a few hours, so we are going to put the pig in a more comfortable slave
position while it has to wait for us.” The words only added to its crazed,
horny state. During the next five minutes or so the pig had the head harness
removed, his ball gag replaced with a gag consisting of a hollow tube, enabling
it to breathe through its mouth and a snug rubber hood put over its head,
obscuring its vision and blocking its nose. It all happened so quickly that
there was no opportunity to try and communicate. Then its arms and legs were
freed and four strong hands forced it down on its stomach. A boot held its head
firmly in place, pressed against the concrete floor. It knew that any struggle
was pointless and simply obeyed by staying limp. Then its limbs were brought
together in a tight hogtie. The hogtie was then attached to a metal wire and
the turning of a crank could be heard as the pig’s body was partly raised up
from the floor, hanging from the hogtie. It’s elbows and knees no longer
touched the floor, but only the middle part of its torso.
“Comfortable, pig?”, said the man and
trod on the pig’s balls which were sticking out from behind its ass on the
floor. The pig moaned in pain. “Good pig”, the man said. Then the two men could
be heard walking away, through the corridor on the other side of the dungeon,
and then the sound of their boots ascending a staircase slowly faded away.
Darkness. Silence. The pig was lying on the floor. It could feel its cock
trying to get hard inside its body, a tight pressure. It could feel its muscles
in its limbs being stretched out by the hogtie. It could feel its jaws being
stretched out by the gag. It could feel its mouth starting to get dry by being
forced to breathe without its nose. It could feel the piercings in its nipples
dangling slightly as it tried to move. It could hear the panting of its own
lungs. It could hear the creaking of its restraints. It could hear its own
thoughts. They were running wild. A battle was taking place in its mind. The
fear and terror it had felt only minutes ago was still there, but contained.
Then there was the feeling of horniness, a warm feeling of enjoyment. Was this
really what it wanted? To not have a normal life? To not be anyone? To simply
exist to serve, to obey someone else? It didn’t even know the names of its
captors. No responsibilities, only obeying orders. But this wasn’t the plan.
All those years of preparations and education. All for nothing. But was there
really a choice to be made?
The hours went on as the pig’s inner
battle of wills raged in its mind. Moments of enjoyment and moans of pleasure
were replaced by moments of panic attacks and fear. Several times the pig
hyperventilated itself into fainting. Its body was hurting. The strain of the
hogtie was starting to take its toll. And as more time passed its conscious
strain of thoughts simply seemed to evaporate, replaced by a state of simply
being. Blissful oblivion in the silent darkness. But in the end, pain overtook
it. Pain and hunger.
By the time its captors returned they found the pig sobbing in pain, exactly
where they had left it. Not that it had any chance of moving. They walked
towards it. The man who dressed in leather spoke to it again. “What’s the
matter pig, missing us so much it’s crying?”, he said and stepped with his boot
on the pig’s tattooed ass cheek. The pig moaned in pain between the sobs. It
didn’t want this. The pain was too much. “But guess what, pig?”, the man said
again. “We’ve decided the pig is going to be allowed to keep us company
tonight. But first it’s time to feed the pig.”
The next thing the pig knew something
was attached to the gag in its mouth. It was a funnel attachment. The pig
started to protest as much as it could as the warm liquid found its way down in
its mouth. The taste was awful. Rancid. And yet the idea of it drinking its
masters piss turned it out. Yet it struggled, moaned and jerked with its head. “Be
still”, the man commanded and the pig felt its head being grabbed and held
still. The two men then swapped positions and a second load of piss was emptied
into the funnel. The pig coughed for air as it tried to swallow it all. There
were moments of panic and asphyxiation when it struggled for air. “Good pig”,
said the man again when both their bladders were emptied. “And we have one last
surprise for you pig,” said the man and seemed to walk away. The pig could hear
his steps on the floor walking away from it. “Pigs shouldn’t eat food and drink
meant for normal humans”, the voice said as it came back and the pig felt as
something was inserted to its ass. Then the man fiddled with the thing he had
just inserted in the pig’s ass and the pig could feel it expand slightly. When
it tried to push it out it found that it couldn’t. It was a locking ass plug.
It was locked inside. It hurt a bit. Though nothing in comparison to the ache
in the rest of its body. “- so we have come up with an elegant solution.”,
continued the man and the pig could hear a pumping sound. It felt how the thing
in its asses expanded even more and how it started to strain against its
innards. It hurt even more now. “This is no ordinary butt plug, pig, in fact,
it is the nicest of all our gifts to the pig. It locks into place, it is inflatable
to a certain degree, and it has a hollow opening throughout. Ordinarily a rod
will be placed inside and it will be just like any other butt plug. But for the
rest of the pig’s life it will be removed twice a day.”, the man continued and
walked away. The pig could hear the footsteps and the clanking and fiddling
with something. It hadn’t understood what the man meant. Removed twice a day?
It couldn’t help liking the feeling of the plug filling it up. It gave the pig
a certain feeling of being content. Then it could feel something being done to
the plug, and then the rushing and unpleasant sensation of a cold liquid
flowing through its ass and into its gut. “We are now feeding the pig with the
pig’s specially prepared soup, consisting of various nutrients a pig needs,
which will be absorbed by the pig’s intestines”, said the man as the liquid
continued to flow. The pig felt his stomach being filled and it felt bloated. “Then
we simply plug it up. Let the soup be absorbed. And then we can empty the pig
and clean it with an enema. Though most will come out as piss of course, with
it being a liquid”, continued the voice. The pig felt its hood being torn off.
As its eyes began to focus they quickly found the eyes of its master. The
master knelt and grabbed the pig’s chin in its hand and stared at it. “You will
never eat again, pig. It’s only piss, spit and cum for you now, understand?”,
the man said in a threatful voice. The pig was in shock. It nodded with its
sore neck. “Good pig”, the man whispered in a husky voice and stood up. “And
now we are going to prepare for our evening with our new pet, we will be back
soon, pig!”, said the man and the pig could see them both walk away. It was in
shock. It could feel the rancid taste of piss in its mouth. It would never eat again.
It would only be allowed to consume piss and cum? That wasn’t humane. Nothing
of this was. It was all absurd. The pig let out a fain moan. It was so horny.
A while later the pig’s masters
returned and let it down from the hogtie. The pig moaned of pleasure and relief
this meant for its tortured limbs. It was a heavenly feeling. It felt so light.
It was amazing. Its heavy gut slushed with the liquid inside as it moved. A
blindfold was the placed over its eyes, and its hands was tied behind its back.
The pig was then led by its masters across the floor, through the corridor and
up a staircase. It was then led into its master’s TV room, unknowing of this
since it couldn’t see anything and nothing was making any noise. The room had
been prepared for the pig’s arrival. In front of the sofa, where a coffee table
would have normally stood, a stockade had been placed. The pig was forced down
and locked into it. It’s neck, wrists and ankles were locked into it so that
the pig was standing on its forearms and shins. Then the funnel was again
attached to the gag. Then the pig felt as something was inserted into its body
behind its asshole. It was a catheter, inserted into the new incision made in
its urethra and led into its bladder. The catheter was then attached inside the
funnel attached to the gag, so that the pig would have to recycle its own piss.
“Guess what pig”, the man said. “You are being given a big treat tonight as
part of our welcome of you as our slave, you are going to be our footstool for
the evening.” The pig moaned. “But we are also disappointed that the pig wasn’t
more grateful of its transformation, so we are also going to be giving the pig
its first punishment”, continued the man. “This”, said the man and rattled
something. “- is ground up rose hip fruits, is the pig familiar with rose hip?”,
asked the man. The pig shook its head. “Well the pig should know that it is a
very delicious fruit, however, there are fine hairs inside the fruit that make
for the most excellent itching powder.” The next thing the pig knew something
was being smeared and massaged on its ass cheeks by gloved hands. Within a
minute his ass had begun to burn and itch, more extreme and severe like any
itch it had ever felt before. It was pure agony. Then it felt as ear plugs was
placed into its ears and how a pair of ear protectors was placed over them.
The pig’s masters turned on the TV,
fetched their beverages and sat down in the sofa. They both extended their legs
and rested their boots on the pig’s back in front of them. The pig was moaning
and whimpering. It was turning them on. They made out on the sofa. They loved
their new family member. It was perfect. The pig wasn’t enjoying itself quite
as much though it seemed. Its body was aching, its ass cheeks burning and
itching, and it desperately wiggled around in the stockade trying to relieve
some of the itchiness. The pressure of the liquid inside its gut combined with
the piss it had drunk a while earlier caused pee to drizzle into its own mouth.
Realizing that they were forcing it to recycle its own piss made it even
hornier. It felt the weight of its master’s boots on its back. It felt so good
not being isolated anymore. Then, suddenly, it felt a riding crop fall down on
its ass with a hard blow. The moment of the impact relieved all the itchiness,
if only for a second, and it longed to be whipped again. The sensation had been
wonderful. It moaned and swallowed some more of its own piss. The pressure of
its cock inside its body was driving it crazy. It had never been hornier. And
the horniness had won. It didn’t want this moment to end. It was a pig, and it
had never been happier.
You never thought you’d be one to partake in a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with anybody. But you had just gotten out of a long and rather difficult relationship. And if you were honest you missed sex, you missed being intimate with another person without the added stress of maintaining a functioning adult relationship. So when Tony Stark suggested the idea of casual sex you almost laughed in his face at the absurdness of it all. In the end it was Natasha and Wanda that brought you around to the idea.
“I mean why not?” she questioned; you were sat at some small quant bar in New York. You needed a break from the compound and Natasha was quick to suggest a girl’s night out.
What if Lucien earns the trust of the inner circle by helping Cassian!
Like, Lucien lost his eye to the bitch under the mountain, right. He now have this metal magical eye that helps him see. A magical eye. What if he have the inventor help him make mechanical wings for Cassian. Well, Cassian’s wings were shredded not broken. What if he makes a skeleton that binds leather then attaches it to Cassian’s wing frame, he would be able to control it.
What if that’s how he gets their trust, by giving Cassian his lost ability to fly again.
Also Cassian with mechanical wings sounds kinda cool. Also Lucien.
@aquisces-arts wanted to see what the suitors would look like in modern clothes, so I did my best conceptualizing what each would wear and why.
Let’s start with King Byron:
Byron dresses very monochromatically– wearing different shades of black head to toe, and choosing gold accents that catch the light.
If you look at his hair, you can see that his wisps are very controlled. Even his cowlick is styled neatly. He would probably use a light pomade. The details on the jeans give texture without distraction, like his black casual shirt in the game.
The gold zipper on the knees also satisfies his love of gold hardware. If you notice, Byron does not wear jewelry aside from his earring, which he shares with Nico, so I think a planetary key chain would be a good choice for him, as it combines his star-gazing hobby with an outlet for an accessory.
Of course, a Rolex is a must, and I think he would always give himself a chaste spritz of cologne before stepping out of the door. This scent is unisex and has a dry-down that smells of vanilla, woods and leather.
I don’t think he would shy away from stylish shoes– he may even be a subtle trend-setter. Because Byron can hold his liquor with the best of them, and because he doesn’t tend to let himself get too casual out in the open, I thought martini glass novelty socks would be a fun twist. It would be his own little secret. While it may not be that wild of a thing for the rest of us, considering Byron’s aloof personality, he may feel that it really is daring indeed.
I swear to fucking God, I can’t scroll down the fucking HZD tag without someone posting ship hate about Erend or Nil.
And it’s not even them talking about how they may or may not be compatible due to their personalities and belief systems. Nope.
Whenever they talk about Erend, they always talk about how he’s just another bland “ Bland piece of white beard,” who’s “ Too old, fat and immature.”
Whenever they talk about Nil, they just talk about face value bullshit without even thinking about the complexity of his character.
Then they talk about how they KNOW why people don’t ship Varl or Vanasha.
Well since you fucks are having trouble understanding why people like them, let me try explaining why I like them:
I like Erend because he was the first person who treated Aloy as an equal right off the bat. She didn’t have to do anything to gain his approval or earn his respect. He was nice and flirty when Aloy felt out of place and unwanted by the Nora.
He welcomed her into the city and helped her even though he was grieving over what he thought was his sister’s horrible murder.
(BUT HE WAS DRUNK!) Yeah, if I thought my sister had her face fucking bashed in to the point of no longer existing, I’d fucking drink myself into a stupor too.
He acted like a real person desperately asking Aloy to help him find the killer and some sentiment of closure.
He never doubted Aloy even though he couldn’t see what she could. Trusted her completely, and thanked her for giving him hope and then thanking her for giving him one last moment with his sister before she died.
Then he has a growing moment, instead of killing his sister’s killer, he obeys his king, like she wanted. He’s hurting, but he’s going to grow up and be the man his sister wanted him to be.
This is made clear when he talks to Aloy. Before he thought he was just a big shot talking to a pretty girl, now he knows that he was just a lucky little shit who didn’t know who was standing in front of him, and how he was lucky enough to just get a few minutes of her time.
(BUT SHES NOT JUST A PRETTY GIRL!)
Yeah, he’s immature. We’ve established that. But instead of staying that way, he’s making conscious decisions to be a better man. Yes, it’s going to take time, people don’t change in an instant. I’m sure by the DLC or next game Erend will be a different man.
Here’s why I like Nil:
He’s an interesting character who’s entire background is shrouded in mystery.
You learn that he was a soldier with a dark past, he’s honorable and isn’t just a mindless killer with a sword.
He follows rules to the fucking letter, and he never pressures anyone into anything.
( BUT HE HUNTS BANDITS FOR SPORT!)
Yeah, and by doing so, he helps the people settled around their encampment, makes the roads safer to travel, and deters other bandits from settling in.
(BUT THERE ARE GUARDS FOR THAT!)
There really isn’t. When Lonelight was constantly getting attacked by Glithhawks, the guards stopped even trying to fight them. The townspeople had to get help from the Hunter’s Lodge.
The guards aren’t going to go out of there way to defend a settlement, the only way they’d deal with the bandits is if they’re close by to the city, or if the bandits are wiping them out.
Nil doesn’t need a reason or a reward, he does it as soon as he knows where to go.
(BUT HES SO CREEPY!)
He’s constantly isolated from human interaction. Of course he comes off that way, with nothing else to think about, and no form of positive or negative responses from people to shape him, what do you fucking expect?
But if you actually pay attention to him, he actually changes the more you talk to him. The very last time you talk to him, he seems almost ‘normal’. He even comments on Aloy’s look, saying that he can tell she’s been through some hard times, and that he hopes it ends quickly for her.
When you decline the duel, he changes and helps you during the final fight.
Nil is so interesting to me because he’s a disturbing individual who channels his bloodlust in a way that helps others. Nil is so interesting because he’s living with the side effects of isolation.
Nil is so interesting to me because he speaks intelligently, wears a soldier’s armor, admits to all of his wrongdoings, follows the rules set before him, and respects your boundaries.
If you say yes to his duel the first time, he asks for your consent again, saying that he doesn’t want to push you into it. But if you say no, that’s the end of it. That’s all it takes.
He’s heartbroken, but he doesn’t lash out or hate you for it.
Nil is a fucked up person, but he’s not and evil person. (I also have a voice kink, but that’s besides the point)
IT’S FUCKING FINE IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS, THAT IS PERFECTLY OKAY, BUT DO NOT SAY THAT THEY ARE BAD CHARACTERS THAT PEOPLE SHOULD NOT SHIP BECAUSE YOU DO NOT LIKE THEM.
AND AS FOR VARL AND VANASHA, I LIKE THEM, I SHIP VARL WITH ALOY AND I AM FINE WITH VANASHA. THIS IS THE FIRST GAME WHERE I ACTUALLY LIKE ALL THE CHARACTERS.
IF YOU WANT YOUR SHIP TO HAVE MORE CONTENT, CREATE IT, DON’T TRY TO RUIN SOMEONE ELSE’S , BECAUSE AT THE END OF THEY DAY, YOU’RE JUST BEING A DICK TO PEOPLE OVER A BUNCH OF POLYGONS AND VOICELINES.
OH! And Erend isn’t fat, he has a muscle man physique, and his armor is an inch and a half of hardened leather with steel rings attached .
This account is true. The names have been omitted to protect the guilty. The night before, I had made fun of a television program he was watching. This evening I was told I would be kept out of the way and punished by being laced up in the leather sleepsack instead of watching television. If I couldn’t say something nice, I wouldn’t get to watch TV at all! I was in the mood for a couple of hours of heavy bondage, so I went along with it. Little did I know how much the punishment would exceed the crime. It was about 9:30 p.m. when we went down to the cell - a small storage room off the furnace room in the cellar. I’ve installed cushioned flooring and extended it partway up the concrete walls. The door is heavy wood planks, and there’s only one small window, up by the ceiling and glazed with frosted glass. I was wearing only tight leather chaps and a leather cockring. I took the sleepsack down from its hanger and laid it out on the floor. The sack is all leather, with a leather lining and an attached hood. I was also to wear a second hood inside the sleepsack’s hood to reinforce the sense of confinement. I sat down in the spread-out sleepsack and inserted my feet into the bottom of the bag. First the leather hood with attached blindfold and gag was laced on. Then I lay back and slid my arms into the sack’s sleeves. The sack hood was pulled over my head and the face cover snapped down. My face was now just blank leather with only a couple of grommets for breathing. The sack collar was buckled snugly around my neck. The sleepsack was zipped up from my ankles to throat. Then he laced it, cinching the cords as tight as they would go and tying them off at several points up the front of the sack. As he laced it, he pulled on the cords hard enough to lift me part way off the floor, using my weight to tighten the cords. When he got to the section from my waist to my chin, he sort of bounced me against the floor to knock the air out of me. With each thump on the floor I gasped, and in the instant when my lungs were empty he’d tighten the laces down. After several fierce yanks to make sure there was no more slack to pull out, he tied off that section of cord. By the time he was done, I was a glossy black leather mummy. Double-hooded and blindfolded, I couldn’t see when he turned off the light and could barely hear the light switch click and the door close. I was so turned on I knew I would cum if I moved at all. I wanted the experience to last. I just lay there perfectly motionless for a while until the orgasm urge subsided. The universe was nothing but darkness and leather completely enclosing me. All my worries, thoughts, stress and even my identity were let go. All that existed was the tight encapsulating leather and the leather cock gag invading my mouth. Eventually I squirmed a little to feel the tight leather rub against my naked skin. It felt so good that I struggled for quite a while gasping and moaning around the gag. The layers of leather creaked and sang together.
After a while I found myself lying still and resting. It took a while for me to catch my breath as the sack was so tight I could not take a full, deep breath. I had broken a light sweat, and the leather clung and sealed to my skin, holding me even tighter and more immobile. There was a pressure point around my head, and it was growing uncomfortable. I became frustrated and started really struggling against the sack; rolling back and forth and writhing violently, groaning and cursing around the black leather penis gag filling my mouth. Finally I tired and just lay there. I noticed the discomfort was gone, the hood must have shifted a little, but the damp leather was holding me tighter than ever. I couldn’t move my arms in the sleeves or even my fingers. That made me hard again. I alternated between lying there resting and humping against the smooth leather lining of the sack. The laces pulled the sack into folds over my cock. By squirming and thrusting I could work my hard cock into one of the folds. It was like being jacked off by a pair of soft leather gloves. I had to keep stopping so I wouldn’t cum. I wanted that sensation to last as long as possible. Sometimes I thought I could hear through the part-way open window a car passing outside. I wondered how the people in the cars might react if they knew they were within a few yards of someone helplessly encased and imprisoned in leather. What if someone had heard my gagged groans and called the police to investigate? Could one of the cars be a police cruiser coming to the house? I might soon be discovered by a couple of cops in tall boots and leather jackets. Would they insist on letting me out, or would they just laugh at me and leave me to stew in the predicament I had gotten myself into? I moaned and writhed at the idea of the humiliation. If I lay still, I could faintly hear a clock striking far above me, like it was in another world. I heard it strike once at one point. I had lost all track of time, and didn’t know if that was 12:30, 1:00 or 1:30. Finally I heard it strike 2:00 a.m. That started to freak me out. I wondered when I would be released, and if he had fallen asleep in front of the television. That thought set off a kind of fit of struggling in earnest. This was no longer a fantasy. I was tied up for real, and I was trying to get loose for real. I squirmed and kicked, flopping back and forth on the floor in fear and frustration, trying to fight my way out of the skin-tight black leather bag. I grunted and cursed around the leather cock that was jammed in my mouth like it was raping my face. I went crazy for a while, jerking and twisting violently and uncontrollably. The sweat stinging my eyes inside the hood brought me back to my senses. I knew escape was impossible. I stopped bucking and lay there for a while, catching my breath and resting, trying to calm down. I may have dozed a little, floating in the darkness of the cell. After a while I heard the clock strike 3:00. That told me I was truly fucked. He had fallen asleep for sure. I had already been tightly tied up in the escape-proof black leather sleepsack for over five hours, and now there was no way of telling when I would get out. All I could was wait until he woke up and remembered where I was. I struggled more feebly on the padded floor, groaning around the cock gag. I squirmed reflexively. It still felt good, but I was beyond getting hard again. I lay back on the padded floor and tried to get as comfortable as I could. The night might only be half over as far as I was concerned. All I could do was wait and endure, encased and tightly laced up in leather. I was looking forward to a very long night. 25.09.06
Indian (Mughal) Jambiya (curved dagger), 19th century, double-edged
watered steel blade with double grooves, central ridge, waisted hilt
entirely covered in gold overlay in floral and foliage patterns, the
pommel is rounded and also decorated with gold overlay. The rounded
pommel finial is also gilded, green velvet covered wooden scabbard has a
metal chape and an attached leather belt band.
I’d like to thank @babyteensfantasies for this idea. If any woman out there who go or went to catholic school and would like to be the subject of my kidnapping and white slavery fantasies, message me and give me the following info
In this one, you’d be abducted while going home from school in your uniform. Give me a description, head to toe of your uniform.
Your first name
Age(obviously have to be 18)
Physical description(again include if you have tattoos or body piercings. A photo, especially in your uniform, would be preferable but not mandatory)
Your sex stats
Include what kind of trouble you get into in school(say you got suspended for smoking)
Who you’d like to be sold to
As our slave business was becoming successful, we were starting to get more custom orders. One day, I received an email from an underground bdsm website called “Punished Teens”. They were looking for a catholic schoolgirl. That’s actually one of two types that are on the top of my list for favorites. The other was a mother/daughter combo. Of course the one problem was finding one who was at least 18. There was one line we would not cross and that was abducting minors. See we slavers do have at least some morals. We, fortunately were able to hack into the computer system of a local catholic girl’s school. We found one we really liked. Her name was Charlotte. She was petite with a nice curvy figure. She had long, thick, wavy dark brown hair. She had a small nose ring on her right nostril. Her file seemed to indicate that she was a bit of a trouble maker. She was a regular in detention and was suspended once for smoking. It would be another 2 days before she turned 18. That was fine. We could spend the next 2 days observing her pattern. She would typically, after school hang out with some other girls and smoke cigarettes. Then she would separate from them and her route to and from school included a wooded area. That would be the best area to grab her.
On the third day of observation, she turned 18. It was a Friday. We got to her school at about 2pm. It was me with my partners Bruce and Rick in our “slaver” van. At about 3pm, school let out.
Charlotte came out. She was dressed in a red and black plaid short skirt with a black button down sweater covering a white blouse, dark brown knee high socks and white with black trim saddle shoes. She was walking with 2 of her friends. If we had felt confident they were 18, we might have grabbed them 2 but it was hard for us to tell. They were smoking cigarettes.
After a couple of blocks, they separated. Charlotte then went into the woods. Another lucky break we caught was that Charlotte had earbuds on listening to music on her iPhone. We could sneak up on her and she wouldn’t catch on till it was too late. I sent Bruce and Rick to grab her. Bruce grabbed her first grabbing her arms.
“Hey what are doing!!! Let me go!!! Let me go!!! cried Charlotte. At that point, Bruce gave her a hand gag.
"Shut up bitch!!” Bruce ordered
“You’re our new slave” Rick said as he grabbed her legs and they carried her to the van.
Once in the van, we shut the door. We took rope to secure her wrists behind her back, tie her elbows together, tie her ankles together and then attach her ankles and wrists together to put her in a hogtie. We then took a harness ball gag to shut her up and then placed a black leather hood over her head to blind her. She fought us all the way. She was like a trapped animal. Love it when they fight when we acquire them.
I drove the van while Bruce and Rick were “keeping our new slave company”. That basically means feeling her up.
Rick sniffed her and told her “we’re gonna have so much fun together.”
Rick felt up her panties and rubbed against the cunt area.
“Check out this cunt’s panties. I think she’s liking this.”
“They all do” observed Bruce.
“I think deep down, they all want this” I chimed in.
Rick then pulled up her skirt. To his delight, Charlotte was wearing white thong panties. He started giving her a spanking.
“Mmmppphhh!!!” was all Charlotte could get out with ball gag on.
“Has daddy’s girl been a bad girl” Rick asked.
He then grabbed a hitachi wand and decided to give Charlotte some forced orgasms.
I’m sure she mean to do it, but Charlotte’s panties were soaked. She must have felt total humiliation. I think she also pissed in her panties as well.
After about 40 minutes, we arrived at the slave training facility in the sticks. We undid her ankle restraints and hogtie to walk the perp walk. Charlotte’s legs were too numb to run. We then took her down the dreaded elevator ride. We untied her but then replaced those restraints with leather cuffs that were attached to a spreader bar hanging from the ceiling. We then secured her ankles to leather cuffs that were also attached to a spreader bar and she was in an x-shape. Her hood and gag were still on.
We had already removed her sweater. That revealed her button down blouse with the bottom piece tied to each other and revealing a belly button ring. We unbuttoned the blouse and to our pleasure, no bra. We attached clamps to each nipple. I then lifted the spreader bar and lifted her slightly off the floor. She was trying to put her legs together but the leg spreader made that impossible. I then put her down and let her stand in that position for a few minutes. Again, making them wait is the worst torture.
After about 10 minutes, I took a flogger and whipped her tits for a minutes.
I lifted her skirt and took a sheer scissors to cut her drenched panties. I then took the flogger against her ass and pussy. Then I removed her hood. The 3 of us were wearing black ski masks to basically put fear in her. I stood behind her to feel her up, tits, ass and pussy. I then yanked on her hair, slapped her in the face and spit in her face. I then lifted her off the floor again and started spinning her around. I then took a riding crop and started working on her pussy. She was screaming and crying. I reminded our slave that her tears and screams make my cock hard.
We then brought a sybian over and put her on it. She was also impaled by a dildo. Initially I had it on slowly and she started begging me to let her cum. After about 20 minutes, I put the machine on full power. And she started to cum. Over and over and over again. By her third orgasm, she was in orgasm hell. Her screams were piercing. Her screams were beautiful music. And she must have enjoyed it judging by the big puddle of cum she was leaving.
After 40 minutes, we took her off the sybian. It was dinner time. Of course at this point, dinner was simply water in a dog dish. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. That was to ensure she would drink the water from her mouth. It was part of stripping the slave of her dignity.
After dinner, we took our new slave to the wash room to clean it. We stripped her and then suspended the slave by its wrists. We then hosed it down. We of course do have to clean our toys.
The slave was then strapped to a bondage chair that secured its wrists, ankles and neck with metal restraints. The slave was forced to watch a brainwashing video on a big screen tv that had many subliminal messages. Basically to remind it that it is a slave. We had the slave watch it for 3 hours.
Then finally it was time to retire the slave for the night. We would strap the slave in an arch back device securing its wrists, upper arms, neck, waist, thighs and ankles. The slave again would be forced to wear the harness gag and leather hood. We also attached an electric toothbrush vibrator to its clit. The vibe was set to go on and off every few minutes to edge the slave. That was part of sleep deprivation that we subject our slaves to for the first 72 hours of captivity. And the water we gave it was laced with a stimulant to increase its sexual urges. Finally, the slave would be forced to listen to the orientation(or is it disorientation) tape. The slave would listen on earbuds. It was on a loop to ensure it would go all night. The tape went as follows.
“Hello bitch. Comfortable. I guess not. Doesn’t matter, your comfort is unimportant. Right now, you’re being trained to be a sex slave. You actually have already been purchased. Once your training is complete, you’ll be turned over to your new owner. Till then you’re ours. That means your body is ours. Just tits and 3 fuckholes. Just a cunt to use and abuse for our pleasure. There’s no safe word. And you no longer have human rights. You’re to us just a cunt. A fucktoy. A piece of meat. A dumb brainless whore.
The quicker you realize that, the easier this’ll be.
Just 7 hours ago. She was Charlotte. A school girl that seemed to have her whole life ahead of her. Now the slave was starting its transformation. From an independent woman to an obedient and compliant sex slave.
This story is not a fantasy from one of my Tumblr followers. This is a story with all fictional characters and is a story about betrayal and backstabbing. I think every slave in this story will get their just rewards.
Trixi awoke one morning in suspension bondage. Her wrists were in leather restraints tethered to a spreader bar attached to the ceiling. Her ankles likewise and her waist also had a leather strap also attached to the ceiling. She was lying in a horizontal position her back to the floor. She was wearing a head harness ball gag. She was naked save for a pair of open toed stripper heels. She clearly felt like a piece of meat.
Just the night before, she had been working at a gentleman’s club in Philadelphia, where she was a dancer and a stripper. She was 19, long strawberry blonde hair, 5'5", 110 lbs with nice titties and a nice ass, nice curves She was a real dick tease. On a good night, she go home with $2000 mostly in tips. She would dance naked and get guys worked up. But they could never touch her. Some customers would pay $100-200 to take her to the back room for a lap dance. Again Trixi would get the men worked up but they could never touch her. Not even in non private areas. Trixi had these men by the balls. And they would go home with blue balls.
One night, 2 men named Jason and Matt were at the club. They decided they wanted a lap dance. Trixi danced for them for about a half hour. Then she needed a break. Matt offered to buy her a drink which Trixi accepted. Matt bought her a sex on the beach. What Trixi didn’t know is that Matt spiked her drink with ghb, commonly referred to as a date rape drug.
After enjoying her drink for a couple minutes, she resumed dancing. After about 5 minutes, Trixi started feeling a little headed.
“Ooh, I gotta sit down. I don’t know if something was in that drink.”
“Mmmmm, might be” replied Jason
At that point, Trixi was still in a bra with thong panties and her stripper heels. Finally, after a couple minutes, Trixi passed out. Fortunately for Matt and Jason, the room was close to the back entrance and the two men dragged Trixi to their SUV and put her in the back. They then drove her to Mistress Samantha’s lair also in Philadelphia. Mistress Samantha ran a white slavery ring where she would kidnap young women and sold them into slavery. Jason and Matt were responsible for acquiring the “talent”.
Trixi awoke the next morning and immediately realized the predicament she was in. She tried to call for help all that came out was “mmmppphhh!!!! mmmppphhh!!!!!.
Then Mistress Samantha came out. A tall 6 feet in heels, nice, athletic, well toned body with long black hair. She was dressed in a black leather corset with garter belts attached to her stockings covered black leather, over the knee stiletto heeled boots. She wore no panties so her pussy and tits were exposed.
"Stop whining. No one’s going to hear you. You’re just going to accept the fact that you will now be spending the rest of your life as a sex slave. Yes, you are a sex toy. To be used and abused by men for their pleasure.”
“Mmmppphhh!!!” Cried Trixi. A sex slave she thought. I’m not a sex slave.
“Deny if you wish but that’s what you are. Look at you. Hung like the piece of meat you are.”
Mistress Samantha chose a riding crop to start disciplining Trixi. She walked around the slave for a couple of minutes. Making a slave wait and anticipate their punishment is probably worse torture than anything physical. Finally she took a seat at her tits. With each stroke, the blows intensified. Then Mistress Samantha worked on Trixi’s cunt.
Mistress Samantha was an absolute sadist. And she knew how to inflict the maximum amount of pain without permanent damage or even heavy marks.
“You are such a brainless cunt. A filthy whore. A piece of meat” as Mistress Samantha enjoyed taunting her slave. She was an absolutely cruel mistress who enjoyed inflicting pain on her slave.
Then the Mistress put on a strap on dildo which big enough to stretch her slave. Mistress Samantha decided to fuck Trixi up the ass. Without lubricant.
As Trixi grunted
“You think I’m bad, the people I’m selling you to are ruthless. No mercy. No safe word. No aftercare.”
Around this time, Jason and Matt came in with a woman. She was wearing a black tank mini dress with matching stiletto open toed strappy heels. The two men were dragging her in. She had her wrists cuffed behind her back. She had a black leather hood covering her head and covering a ball gag in her mouth.
“Aah. We got our new slave. I think she’ll make us a lot of money as well.”
This exceptional Roman helmet dates from the mid to late 1st century
BC. Adorned with rare cast decoration, it is the finest example of the
‘Mannheim’ type currently on the private market.
Exhibiting a beautiful deep green patina, this stunning Roman
legionary’s helmet is constructed of hammered sheet, the dome with a
small flanged brim front and back, and each side with two perforations
for the attachment of leather cheek-guards, now long since perished. A
separately cast figure of a Siren with outstretched wings, tender
smiling features and parted hair is riveted to the front.
The Mannheim style of helmet is generally associated with the Roman army
operating in the western areas of the Empire during the late Republican
era through to the Flavian period. The style arose in the mid-1st
century BC at the time of the Gallic Wars, and was clearly influenced by
the helmets worn by Celtic warriors. The style persisted up to around
100 AD, and appears to have been prevalent among troops stationed along
the Rhine frontier. Though the Mannheim seems to have been popular
during this period, examples in this stunning condition are extremely
rare. Even more exceptional is the Siren riveted to the front, an extra
addition which was likely paid for out of the pocket of the legionary
who owned it.
The lights flickered as the underground subway made its first turn out of the subway station. The old thing squeaked and sputtered in protest as it continued down the rusted tracks. Your eyes glided across the many faces of the early morning commuters who were taking the early subway to work.
Most of the bodies on the train were covered in dark heavy coats and thick scarfs, as the subway could not hold the heat inside of the old passenger car, even if it was ten feet underground. The winter morning was definitely the worst time to commute on a subway.
You held tightly to the old leather strap that was attached above your head, you tried to keep your balance as the subway went over another bump. You groaned in protest as you quickly grabbed your phone out of your pocket to look at the news.
You could see your own breath as you slipped your hand from one of your gloves to scroll through your newsfeed. You lazily looked over the passengers in front of you. Trying to find something decent to look at while you were waiting for your stop.
Suddenly a message popped up in the middle of your screen, your eyes squinted at the message. It clearly read that your data usage was almost up and that data should be turned off.
You scoffed loudly as you quickly exited out of the news app and went into your settings. You crossed your fingers that there was an unprotected Wi-Fi somewhere that you could use. It wasn’t exactly legal, but who would catch you?
As the phone searched for a signal it immediately picked up on a unprotected network that had three bars in your area. The Wi-Fi was named S0mbra1. Curious you tried to connect to the network and sure enough it worked. Your eyes lit up with delight as the network allowed you to browse your favorite apps.
It was an incredible network, it loaded all photos and videos on the app in an instant and would never buffer. Your smile widened as the network continued to do its magic.
Suddenly, the subway came to a halt, you looked up to the old blinking sign confirming that this was your stop. The light in your eyes faded away as you slipped your phone into your pocket and continued to your work.
You threw your belongings on your small desk as you quickly sat in your office chair. Your spun it around a couple of times before you turned on the tower hiding underneath your desk as well as the monitor. The painfully familiar blue screen clicked on with the usual request for a username and password. You rolled your eyes as you quickly typed it in. You navigated to the online service and typed in yet another login. Your job was one of the worst out there but hey, money is money right?
You slipped on your usual headset and clicked a button on the side; it immediately directed you to a call. You cleared your throat and introduced yourself.
“Hello, this is y/n with tech support. How may I help you?”
The voice on the other line belonged to a Hispanic woman who casually talked to you in a rather calm tone.
“Yeah I had a question about my computer, the monitor seems to be glitching out and the mouse isn’t appearing on my screen, what should I do?”
Before you could answer you heard rather fast typing on the other end. It seemed rapid and well placed as if the person knew what they were doing.
Suddenly, your monitor went white before revealing the screen of another computer. Your eyes went wide with shock as you quickly shuddered into the microphone.
“H-hey, I’m going to need to put you on hold for a second, my computer isn’t w-working properly.”
Suddenly the typing on the other line paused, the sound of a moving chair could be heard as the women continued to speak.
“Oh, that is me, I hacked the server your company is currently using with your IP to show you what is happening, I thought it might be easier for you to se-”
“And if you know how to hack a private network do you really think you need tech supports help?”
The awkward tension grew as the silence was dragged on. You heard the woman tapping her nails on her desk thinking of an explanation for her actions. She finally took a deep breath and answered.
“Yes, b-because I need assistance with the monitor a-and I don’t know how to fix it.”
You’re rolled your eyes before quickly saying something to stop her from rambling on forever.
“Ok, thank you very much for calling tech support, you have the number on your phone already so call when you have a real problem ok?”
Before you gave her a chance to respond you quickly ended the call before she could continue. You leaned back in your chair letting out a long drawn out sigh.
Your monitor sputtered and clicked a bit before displaying a rather suspicious purple coding. Soon your computer was automatically transferred to a Skype call to a women with electric violet dyed hair and rather vibrant clothes. She spoke up before you could freak out about her being on your screen.
“Ok listen, I’m sorry for all of my fussing. But when I saw you on the subway you looked really cute in that winter coat so I wanted to get to know you. So I decided to help you out with the Wi-Fi network and I wanted to talk to you, so that’s why I made the call and that’s… why I am … here.”
Her face suddenly became warm as she scratched the back of her neck waiting for a response. Your first reaction was a loud laugh before you looked back at your screen.
“You seriously hacked my computer just so you could talk to me? Ha! That is just hilarious.”
Her nose suddenly scrunched up while you continued to have your laughing fit. She crossed her arms before responding.
“You really think I was just going to walk up to you and say hi, this was way more elaborate then anything anyone else could do.”
You finally got you composure back and cleared your throat before responding.
“Oh no! That is very elaborate… and I thought it was cool, it’s not often you meet someone who can hack a server just to talk to someone, we should talk more often.”
Suddenly the woman’s eyes went wide with shock before she let a smirk fall on her face. She wasn’t actually expecting you to comply with a wave of her hand she did her best to cover her blush before responding.
“Perfect, I’ll keep in touch. Talk to you later.”
Before you could reply your screen went back to its usual blue hue. As if it never even happened. You slumped in your chair and let out a tired sigh. You realized that before she left you never even asked for her name.
Suddenly your phone dinged with a message. You looked over at it and saw that a new contact by the name of Sombra was added to your phone, and the number already sent a message.
“Did you think I wouldn’t get your number before leaving? That’s what happens when you join unprotected networks.”
You let a smile creep up on your face as you leaned back in your chair and responded.
“As I said before I would love to chat more, Sombra.”
(Forgive me if she seems cheesy! I don’t know her well enough yet ;-;)
I’d like to thank Lucy who’s Tumblr handle is @eggheadlucy for this story. If anyone is a catholic school girl(or recently graduated) and would like to be the subject of one of my stories, again the following info:
Age(again 18+ please)
Physical description(a pic would be great, especially in your uniform, but not mandatory)
In this one, you’d be kidnapped from school. Give a head to toe description of your uniform.
Who you’d like to be sold to. Again includes(but not limited to)
A Middle East or Asian businessmen
A brothel in say Latin American or Asia
An underground bdsm website
A Latin American drug cartel
Without further ado, the start of “Only the Good Die Young”.
As fall was approaching and a new school year about to start, we started focusing on getting potential slaves from different schools. Again our organization was looking at catholic schoolgirls to put on the slave market. Of course, we wanted to make sure the slave was at least 18 or older. Even in a lot of places 16 or 17 is the age of “consent”, there still kind of an ick factor with 16-17. 18 is the age of adulthood(although a lot of 18, 19 and early 20’s don’t seem like it some times).
We hacked the computer system of the local girls catholic school and found a prospect. Her name was Lucy. She was an Asian chick. She had just turned 18 a few weeks earlier and just starting her senior year. She looked like she was tall and slim and fairly athletic. She had long black hair. Her school record indicated a couple of detentions for cutting class.
We went to the school to keep her under surveillance for a few days to determine her pattern. We saw her the first day coming out of class and followed her home. And then the next day followed her to school. We also noticed one area where she walked was kind of remote. A good area to acquire her at.
On that Friday(we figured that’s a good day because the school wouldn’t notice her missing till at least the following Monday), we decided to make our move. She was walking home alone and a bonus, she had earbuds on her, probably listening to music from her iPhone. She was dressed in a teal colored short sleeve pullover, a grey skirt above the knees, white knee high socks and black shoes. Little did she know she was in her last moments of freedom.As she got to the area, we pulled our van(Bruce, Rick and myself) up opened the door and grabbed her.
“Hey what are you doing? Let go of me. Help, help!!!!!. Lucy cried to no avail. She was now a slave.
We took rope out and secured her wrists behind her back, her elbows, her thighs and ankles and put her in a hogtie. Then came a head harness ball gag and a black leather hood around her head. She was now totally immobilized. I drove while Bruce and Rick ” kept our new slave company". That meant feeling her up and fondling and groping her. And they noticed her panties were a bit damp. Hmmm. Was that because she pee’d from being scared or was she excited.
We arrived at our slave training facility. We undid the hogtie releasing her ankles so she could walk. Bruce and Rick grabbed each arm as we escorted her to the building. She was taken to one floor below(the building of course has 3 underground floors). We brought her to Dr Richards, a defrocked gynecologist(defrocked for groping and fondling his patients) we hired to always examine our new acquisitions. The slave was stripped naked. The slave was weighed and measured then strapped to a gynecology table. Her wrists were restrained with medical restraints at the head of the table, straps across her waist and each side of her tits and both of her legs were bound on stirrups in an exposed and humiliating position. The slave had a dental gag placed in her mouth. The doctor then injected her with sodium pentothal to make her lucid enough to answer questions about her sexual history. The slave would also be tested for std’s. Then the slave would be tested for its arousal levels and pain levels. The test for pain levels would include having wires attached to her nipples, pussy and asshole.
After the slave’s exam was completed, we brought it down to the dungeon area, two floors underground. We put its clothes back on, minus her underwear. We placed the slave in an x shape as its wrists and ankles were put in leather restraints attached to spreader bars and we put its ball gag and leather hood back on. We then lifted the spreader bar holding its wrists and the slave was about half a foot off the ground. It was trying to move its legs but the spreader bar was keeping them apart. After several minutes of letting it wait(again, letting them wait can be the worst torture of all), we lowered the slave to where it was standing on its tiptoes. I felt up the slave for a little bit, followed by yanking on hair. Then I took a flogger and started whipping the slave. She immediately started crying as that first bite of the flogger caressed its flesh(we put its shirt around its neck so its titties were exposed). Then I took a riding crop and lifted the slave’s skirt and started working on its clit. I basically continued till my arm got tired. Then I let Bruce, then Rick continue. After about an hour of of whipping the slave, we then got out a hitachi wand and pressed it against the slave’s clit and started vibing it. We would get it to the point where the slave was at the edge of cumming and then I’d pull away. For the next hour, we edging the slave. Within about 20 minutes, the slave was begging for us to let it cum. That’s good, means we’re starting to break it.
Then we attached the wand to a dick on a stick. We turned the hitachi on full blast and then the slave began to cum. And cum. And cum. And cum. By the 3rd or 4th orgasm, the slave was in orgasm hell. By the 5th orgasm, it was begging for us to stop. But we could also see the puddle of cum the slave was leaving. The slave was now hoping to lose consciousness but the flogging we were giving it made that impossible.
After an hour of forced orgasms, the three of us decided to work off our frustrations and we gang raped the slave. All three holes were filled.
Next we brought the slave its “dinner”. Of course dinner was simply was just water in a dog bowl. For first 72 hours of its enslavement, all slaves were subjected to 72 hours of food deprivation. The slave’s wrists were bound behind its back so it was forced to drink with its mouth. The purpose of that is to strip the slave of its dignity.
After dinner, the slave was stripped and suspended by its wrists so we could clean the slave up. With a hose of cold water. Always a great way to clean your toys.
Then we locked the slave in a metal bondage chair securing its wrists, ankles and neck with metal restraints. The slave was forced to watch, on a big screen tv, basically a brainwashing video. The video included the whore’s mantra and a lot of subliminal messages. Reminder the slave that it was just that. A slave. A toy. A piece of meat. We would make the slave watch the video for 3 hours.
Then it was time to retire the slave for night. That meant putting it in an arch back device securing its wrists, upper arms, neck, waist, thighs and ankles in metal restraints. The slave again would be gagged and blindfolded. Wires were attached to its nipples pussy and asshole. A small vibrator was attached to its clit. It was on a timer to go on and off every few minutes to edge the slave all night long. It was part of 72 hours of sleep deprivation. Before the slave was gagged. We gave it water. Laced with a stimulant that heightened its sexual urges. The wires attached had a built in sensor so if the slave somehow managed to dose off or cum, it would receive a nasty electrical shock.
Finally we placed earbuds on the slave attached to a CD player that would play an orientation(or probably disorientation) tape that had the following message:
“Hello cunt. Cunt. Comfortable? Probably not. Not that that’s important. The only thing important is now you are our sex slave. You are now just property. Merchandise. You are just a piece of meat. A fucktoy. A worthless, brainless cunt. Just 2 tits and 3 fuckholes for a man to use and abuse for his pleasure. And your body no longer belongs to you. Your whole body. Your tits, asshole, pussy all belong to us. There’s no safe word. No aftercare. You have no human rights. We don’t care about how you feel except how we want you to feel. Whatever you were before, you no longer are.
You are now being trained to be a sex slave. Once your training is completed, you will be auctioned off and sold to the highest bidder. You are now in your transformation from being an independent woman to an obedient sex slave and a compliant sex toy.
Welcome to your new life.”
Just a little over 7 hours before, she was Lucy. A catholic high school student early in her senior year. Now her transformation was underway.
This is a fantasy given to me by Marlena, known on Tumblr as curvy-cunt. I’d like to thank her for this story. Let me know what you think. Enjoy.
With our white slave trafficking business starting to become successful, we were now getting custom requests for for specific girls. An underground bdsm website, had a request for a girl named Marlena. She was 20 years old, she lived in upstate New York, she was 5'8", and beautiful curves. She was a bit punky with medium length pink hair and her lip and septum pierced. But her beautiful tits and ass more than made up for that.
Bruce, Rick and myself decided to take a road trip up to New York. We arrived that Friday afternoon. We searched around town for a few hours and after initially having no luck, we decided to get something to eat at the local mall.
We grabbed some Chinese food. After finishing, we found our target. She worked at a clothing store. It was mainly for goth people. She was well dressed that night in a leopard print top, long sleeve but showed off her cleavage. She was also wearing a black leather mini skirt with knee high stiletto black leather boots. This was perfect. We waited on a bench for her to leave which as it turned out, she was working till closing time that night. I went out to the van to be ready while Bruce and Rick were outside the store.
Finally at 10pm, the store closed. She was there an extra 15 minutes counting out. Finally she began to make her way to her car. I was parked in the back of the mall. As luck would have it, so was Marlena. We were the only cars parked in that area. At about 10:30, she was at her car and about to open her door when Rick came from behind her and grabbed her, hand gagging her.
“Mmmppphhh!!!!” Cried Marlena under her gag. She then kicked Rick in the shin.
Then Bruce and I grabbed her with each of us holding one arm as we dragged her to the van. She was kicking and screaming.
“Let me go!!! Let fucking go of me. Help!!!”
I slapped her in the face. Then grabbed her by her hair.
“In the van bitch!!!” I yelled.
Finally we got her in the van and then secured her wrists with handcuffs. We did likewise with her ankles. Then another pair of handcuffs attached both sets of cuffs leaving her in a hogtie.
Then we pulled out a ball gag to quiet her. We had to force her mouth open. Then finally, we added a leather hood over her head so she couldn’t see.
“That should take care of her for now” I said
“How’s your shin?” I asked Rick.
“Smarts but I’ll live. Can’t wait to get that bitch back to the training center. I’m gonna have some fun with this cunt.”
We decided to get a motel for the night. We brought the bitch in room and left her in the same hogtie position. We each take 3 hour shifts to watch her. In the meantime, in her mind, she was preparing herself to be raped. Of course that was true. But little did she know. We each had our fun.
The next morning we woke at 8am and hit the road immediately. It was about a 10 drive back to the slave training facility we had in rural Virginia. We of course would keep ourselves occupied by groping, fondling or raping Marlena. We also noticed her panties were drenched.
“Hey I think this slut’s enjoying this” Bruce observed.
Marlena, by this time, had lost track of time. Even though it was less than a day since we grabbed her, by this time it had been days. After work the night before, she was planning on having drinks with some friends. Even though it was the night before, it might as well have been light years.
Finally after 6pm, we arrived at the facility. Like other slave girls arriving there, as we were bringing her in, Marlena felt like she was being perp walked. She wasn’t giving up as we would have to drag her. We brought her on the elevator which then would proceed to go 3 floors underground. We removed the the hood from her head. Having been blinded for 20 hours, she had a hard time initially adjusting to the light. We stripped the slave of its clothing minus her boots. We then attached a leather strap to its elbows. Then we brought it some water. In a dog bowl. Which the slave would have to drink from the bowl with its mouth. A way of stripping the slave of its dignity. We also put a collar and leash on the slave and attached the leash to the wall.
The slave was still not ready to be humiliated like that. It would rather die than experience that.
“I’m not gonna drink this! I’m not your fucking dog!!
I then immediately took out a cattle prod and zapped its body all over the place. After about five minutes, it finally submitted.
Then we put the slave in a stockade. The stockade would bind the slave kneeling in a doggie style position securing its wrists, ankles and neck. We then forced the slave to watch the slave’s/whore’s mantra. Reminding the slave what it is now and what it can look forward to for the rest of its life.
Finally, towards the end of the night, we retired the slave. We hooked it on an arch back device. Wrists, elbows, waist, neck and ankles were secured. We put a butt plug in its ass and wired metal dildo in its pussy. A vibrator shaped like an electric toothbrush was attached to its clit. It was on a timer. It would run for 4 minutes just enough to edge the slave just before the vibe shut off for 4 minutes. Then it would repeat the cycle all night long. Also the water we gave the slave was laced with a stimulant that would increase its sexual urges.
Finally, we placed a leather hood on the slave head so it couldn’t see or speak. The were three holes. One for its nose so it could breath. The other 2 were the ears to attach earbuds to. We placed an orientation(disorientation) tape in a CD player. For about half the time it would her white noise, the other half would be would be a message I give all the new slaves. Reminding them they are no longer free but now owned slaves. No human rights. Just now tits and 3 fuckholes for a man to use and abuse for his pleasure. Remind the slaves to address the males Master or Sir. That if someone wants to fuck them, the slave is to bend over. If we want the slave to suck its cock, it is to get on its knees, open its mouth wide and swallow every last drop.
24 hours before the slave was known as Marlena. Now it’s just it. Tomorrow, it would begin its first day of slave training. The transformation from an independent woman to an obedient slave.
Whatever the slave was in its previous life, it was no longer.
To be continued….
Link to AO3 square filled: caning ship: deanxcain (background wincest) rating: explicit word count: 2,179 tags: MoC!dean, sub!dean, dom!cain, caning, restraints, s9 canon divergent, angst with a side of porn
summary: Putting himself at the mercy of a Knight of Hell was probably not the best idea Dean ever had, but it was better than the alternative.
Cain’s voice was calm and deep behind that crystal tumbler. Blue eyes watched him over the rim, patient as a stone for a response.
Dean resisted the urge to scratch at the Mark on his arm. The burn under his skin was a constant companion now. Cain took another sip from the glass without a word, settled deep in the red leather wing chair.
“I need your help. You lived with it,” Dean said, voice rough. “Show me how to control it.”