Melinda screamed. Her body arched tightly across the back of the couch her backside
lifted high into the air as she sobbed, writhing in pain and pleasure combined. It didn’t
matter how ashamed she was, or afraid she felt, they had complete control over her body
and there was nothing she could do about it.
Her pussy clenched around the cock now buried within her core. She whimpered, her hips
rolling, bucking beneath him. She groaned, sobbing, as she thrust back against the man,
not caring which one now used her. They were both the same. Men who would and could use
her at their whim.
She was lost. Trapped. Enslaved. She couldn’t fight them. She didn’t want to fight them.
Not with how she would be treated if she disobeyed them. She didn’t want that again, not
the whip, not with how much it hurt.
Pain, she’d been introduced to a world of pain and humiliation since they had taken her
from her world. Her home. Her life. Her body was forced against the couch with each
thrust. Her core rippled, clenching around the cock in her body. A hand tightened in her
hair, holding her painfully in place. Her scalp protested at the grip, small shards of
pain lancing across her head.
She sobbed, tears burning a path down her cheeks. Her throat tightened, hands locked
behind her back in a set of cruel cuffs. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into
the palms of her hands. She twisted, trying to find a moment where she wasn’t in pain.
It didn’t work.
Nothing worked.
One hand tightened on her hip, the other in her hair, his grunts filling the room. Her
thighs clenched. He was close. His cock swelled, pressing against her inner walls. Her
breath burned in her throat. Her chest tight. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust. Her
nipples hard. Stomach taut.
She sobbed, lifting her head under the painful grasp that tangled within her hair. Her
back arched tightly. Sweat beaded across her breasts and inner thighs. She tried to pull
her hands free, it didn’t work. If she could brace herself, it would ease the pain. But
she couldn’t escape. She couldn’t ease the pain.
Nothing would help her.
Nothing except the men leaving her alone.
“So tight. So fucking tight!” Carl snarled. Carl. The man she had planned on marrying.
The man who had betrayed her. The man who now fucked her as if she was nothing but a lump
of meat to be used, abused and tossed away when they were done with her.
She wanted to cry out, beg for mercy, but it wouldn’t help. Nothing would help except
her complete and utter submission. She was a slave, at the end of the day she was a slave,
they could do whatever they wanted to her, with her, and there was nothing she could do
about it.
“I’m going to cum – fuck, I’m going to fill the bitch!”
Please, god, just get it over with.
Her body ached. She sobbed, twisting beneath him. She had to survive this. Push through
and find a way to break free.
There was no freedom for her. No means to escape.
“Fuck back against me, whore. Yeah, that’s it. Move for me!”
She had no choice, each thrust sent her hard against the couch. Bruises, she’d be
bruised across the line of her hips by the time they were finished, and she didn’t even
dare offer a protest.
“God!” Carl screamed. “Can’t hold back!”
His cock pumped against her inner walls. Slick heat coated her being. She sobbed,
arching beneath him, knowing he was about to cum. Knowing it wasn’t something she could
prevent. Knowing she was helpless to their desires.
Knowing this was the way she would spend the rest of her life – a slave, chained,
collared, used and abused at the whim of the ones who controlled her.
Level Two – Acceptance
Chapter One
Melinda shivered in the bottom of the cage and tried to replay the events that had
brought her to this. What had she done to deserve this type of treatment? She’d been a
good woman. One with dreams and hopes of her own until now. Until this. Carl. All she’d
done was anger one man, one single man, and now she was locked in a cage in the basement
of another man’s house. She’d been reduced to a piece of property with a collar locked
about her throat, the bars firm, unmoving, her skin taut against the constant near chill
in the basement.
Not one man, not if she wanted to be honest, not one, but two men.
Eric and Carl, they were to blame for her change in situation. They’d turned her to
a slave. A naked, collared, shivering woman in a cage. It wouldn’t be this way forever,
she knew that. Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a way out of this. A means to her
escape. When that happened. When she found the answer, everything would change. Change for
the better. She’d make them pay, one day she’d make them pay beyond all reckoning, she
just had to find her way out of the cage first.
Right, and I’m going to be able to do that how?
Good question, a she had to do was find the answer.
Melinda bit back a low whimper, the odds of her finding a way out of this place
were somewhere between slim and non. They knew it. She knew it. Games, they played games
with people’s hearts, minds and bodies, and she had no way free of them. She was fooling
herself if she tried to believe otherwise. How could she break free of the cage, or even
the house if she was naked but for the belt between her thighs and around her waist, then
locked away like this?
How long had it been since she had been visited by either Carl, Eric, or someone else.
The door would open soon enough, then it would begin again. The pain, shame and
humiliation of it all. The way she was expected to act and then be used in return. Silent.
Submissive. Grateful for the food and water that would be brought to her.
If she was lucky it would be simple use this time, a quick fucking then she’d be fed. If
not – if he wanted something more – then she’d have no choice but to accept it and survive
it.
Her stomach knotted at the thought of it all.
She’d already been through so much, and couldn’t imagine what they might have in mind
for her later. They’d made it clear that their tastes ran to the exotic and painful. When
they pushed her, forced her to serve them, it was clear that they still had far more
planned for her.
She’d become a slave, but the rest of her training lay ahead of her.
Training for what? To become a good little fuck toy?
Yeah, well what else would they train her for?
Melinda shifted in the cage and curled up a little more, the twin invasions of the dildo
and plug between her thighs, reminded her of just what they thought of her. Each small
movement reminded her of the dual pressures. The dildo was thick, longer than she’d ever
thought her body would be able to take. The plug short and wide. Both held in place by the
belt set up.
Why do that to her, and never let her find that moment of release?
She shifted a little, and tried to ignore the play of sensation between her thighs.
There was, however, no shutting it out. No means of ignoring what was being done to her.
She squeezed her thighs together.
One moment of pleasure, that’s all she wanted. Why couldn’t he grant her that? Was it
too much to ask for?
No matter how aroused she was, he kept her on the edge. Either using her in such a way
that she couldn’t find the rhythm needed. Or so brief, rushed, that her body barely knew
what was happening before it was over.
Fuck – why can’t he let me enjoy a moment? A moment of personal pleasure, that was all
she needed.
Because it pleased him to keep her this way. Her body ached, she’d heard it was possible
for a woman to have the equivalent of blue balls, but she’d never believed it before now.
Yet, the ache in her body was undeniable.
Her thighs pressed together, she whimpered then tried to keep silent. Letting the world
know how she felt, or what she was going through, wasn’t going to help her. Not right now.
Not this time. She had to keep everything under control. Her body wasn’t a toy for him, or
anyone else, if she only had the strength to prove that.
I have the strength, they’re going to learn that the hard way.
No, stupid. The more she fought the worse it would be for her. If she complied, then
maybe it would eventually be easier? Yes, she had to believe that. Fuck, she was trapped.
The door opened at the top of the stairs and she tensed. Was it him, or one of his
friends? She glanced toward the sound, searching through the dim light in hopes she would
see something, anything, that would warn her what to expect. Or rather, who to expect the
next time someone came into the cellar.
Steps rang out, heavy as he walked down the stairs. He, it was always a he, no matter
what they expected from her, though perhaps that would change one day. She couldn’t tell.
Perhaps they would want her trained to please women. As long as she was able to eat, drink
and rest.
“Hands and knees, slut.” Eric called out. “Don’t keep me waiting. Unless, that is, you
want to be punished again.”
She flinched at the words but moved, quickly, onto her hands and knees, her head bowed,
gaze lowered to the floor. The invaders pressed deep within her body. She winced, the
pressure building as she tried to cope with it. There was nothing she could do to push it
back under control, except it wasn’t that easy.
Sweat beaded across her brow, her stomach knotted as she tried her best to obey Eric.
What was she supposed to do now?
Wait and obey of course. Anything else would only serve to anger the man. She’d already
felt the whip once before and had no desire to feel it again. Especially if the whip was
then used on her in anger, or worse in frustration. The first introduction to that
terrible thing had been done when Eric was calm. Anything else would strip the skin from
her back, or worse.
Eric, he was one she knew how to deal with, obey and do nothing more than what
she’d been ordered to do. If she tried to do anything more, she’d be punished and perhaps
even go without something to eat, which he’d done once before.
How long had she been in the cage now, locked down here in the cellar and kept like a
beast?
Too long, she knew that, but the exact time was hard to figure out. Almost a week from
what she’d been able to figure out, but without a clock, or access to windows, she hadn’t
been able to keep track of the passage of time.
The cage door was unlocked, and then swung open. “Get out slave. You know what’s
expected of you, don’t you? Don’t keep me waiting, I’m truly not in the mood to deal with
a lazy slave right now.”
Yes, she did know what was expected of her. She also knew she wasn’t to speak until told
otherwise. Silently she crawled out of the cage, her body trembling, muscles aching with
the effort. Each small movement made it worse, the dual pressures of the dildo and plug,
played havoc within her body. Slick heat seeped from between her thighs, soaking the belt
as she obeyed Eric. She blinked and tried to focus, but it didn’t work.
Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. She had to do this before it was too
late and his anger gained control of him…
His boots, she knew his boots now. Almost to the knee, shiny black leather, and she
took her place on her hands and knees, in front of his boots. Her hair fell forward,
brushing over her cheeks. Her breasts depended toward the floor, nipples hard as she
waited for the count of five before she lowered her lips to his boots.
One minute of pleasure, just one minute, would that be too much to ask for?
Yes, it would be, slaves did as they were told, they didn’t think about their own
pleasure. They had no right to such things.
If I say that to myself one more time I’m going to scream. Loudly.
Her gaze returned to his boots. She swallowed hard and licked carefully across the
toe of one boot, her ass lifted high in the air. Her thighs clenched, even the simple act
of licking his boots left her pussy clenching. Her clit throbbed. The need for something
more, something he wasn’t going to permit her to enjoy, now grew out of control. She bit
back a sob and set to cleaning his boots.
Dirt. No matter how carefully she cleaned them, they were always dirty when he came to
her again. She could taste it on her tongue. Grit, dirt and mud filled her mouth. She
licked over the toes of his boots and tried to hide her revulsion. He enjoyed humiliating
her, she knew that, showing it only added to his enjoyment.
Fuck him, and the horse he rode in on, I’m not going to be a slut.
No, she didn’t dare say that out loud. He’d arrange for her little saying to come true.
Well, maybe not, but she wasn’t going to risk it. He was that perverted. Fuck, she didn’t
know how far he’d go.
“Clean them all, slave. Fully. Don’t leave a drop on there. You know what’s needed,
whore. What I expect of you.”
Yes, she knew what would happen if she failed him. The paddle, or belt, or worse! She’d
felt both before, and didn’t want to go through it again, not for something this simple.
Instead she bent to the task he had assigned her, her nipples touched the floor, hard and
cold. Each time she lowered her lips or tongue to the man’s boots, her nipples brushed
against the floor.
Fuck me, take the damn things out of my body and fuck me, please would it be too much to
ask!
Just a little more, she had to clean them fully, but it wouldn’t take much longer to
finish the work. She swallowed the dirt and grit, and then looked over the boots
carefully. One last time she dipped her lips to the boots, kissing them one at a time
before she crawled back a single step.
“Hm it will do, I suppose,” the words little more than a low growl. “Now turn and crawl
to the bench. Assume the position. You know what’s expected of you, slut so don’t try and
drag this out.”
The position for her humiliation, yes she knew what was expected of her all too well.
God, how she wanted to be free of him, of them, yet she had no means to break free of
them. And it was them, not just him. He didn’t work alone, not all of the time at least,
so freedom wasn’t an option.
It wasn’t going to happen, even if she fought her way free of the cellar, she’d
then have to find clothes, or a phone, or something to use in order to get out.
She’d never even heard a phone ring whilst she’d been in the house, was there even one
in the damn place? No, not entirely true, she knew there was a phone in the house, Eric
had called Carl when they’d first arrived here. But where? She hadn’t seen it, or heard
it.
Melinda settled herself over the large bench, her ass raised in the air at waist height,
her thighs spread. She leaned down, her hair tumbling to the floor, her full breasts
pressed between her body and the bench as she struggled to breath through the mass of her
own hair and the pressure of behind half upside down.
Eric brushed his fingers over the twin mounds of her ass. “Ass or cunt, which one shall
it be whore, which one indeed? Both hold an attraction to me as you know by now, don’t you
whore?”
She knew better than to answer even if he’d asked her a direct question. She was an
animal to him, a beast to be used, and beasts didn’t speak. The belt was slowly opened and
both dildo and plug pulled from her body. Her muscles spasmed, her thighs clenched. She
wasn’t sure what he would do next, but she had to follow through with whatever he wanted.
How would he use her this time, her pussy, her ass, not her mouth though, he’d decided for
some odd reason to hold off on oral training.
Tears burned in her eyes as she felt him press something wet and slick against the
tight confines of her asshole. Melinda whimpered. The push against her asshole was more
than she wanted to go through, yet there was nothing she could do. Her pussy always hurt
less, but at least the plug had helped with that.
Anal use, she had to keep calm, relax, or the anal use would leave her sore,
bleeding and terrified beyond what she already felt. She closed her eyes, swallowed hard
and forced her body to hold position.
“Relax, whore, tensing up will only make it all the worse for you. Unless, of course,
you enjoy the pain already.” His finger buried deep within her bowels until she whimpered,
half sobbing in pain. Even with the limited lube he’d used, it still hurt, burning,
branding her within as she tried not to squirm. “Good, hot little slut, you’re improving,
you’ll soon be able to go to the play room once more. When you’re there, you’ll be trained
for the next level. I can’t wait to see how you handle it, and if all goes well, you’ll be
ready for the presentation party at the end of the week.”
Presentation party?
Play room?
The play room, the very mention of the place terrified her, especially after her one and
only visit to the room.
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