Layla stared out at the rolling green hills and forests she could see in front of
her, but it was nothing more than a cruel joke. She was sitting Indian style with her legs
crossed and a sturdy leather strap wrapped around her lower legs making sure she stayed
that way. Her wrists were manacled with hard leather cuffs that pulled her arms apart and
down to the sides of the box. The box itself was barely over two feet tall, just high
enough to enclose her sitting body, with only her head sticking out of the top of it. The
top was made out of two pieces of wood with semi-circles cut into each side that held her
neck between them. A padded leather collar kept her head erect, and made sure when she
dozed off she could not choke herself, a thought that had crossed her mind when this
unbelievable ordeal first began.
She had been sitting here in this simple square box for two full days and nights,
but the nights had been the worst. At least the sun was rising now, but since it rose at
the front of the house and she was sequestered behind it, she had to contend with the cool
damp shade of morning. Just behind her box was a house she used to remember fondly, a
place she had spent many pleasant times, but now it was the center of the hell she was
living. How it came to this she still refused to believe, even though she knew she would
stay in this box until she did, or at least until Daddy believed she did.
She had tried to convince him every time she saw him since she was trapped here
that she would change and learn the lesson he said she needed to, but he was not
persuaded. In fact she barely recognized him now, terrified of what he told her he was
going to do with her. The fact that they were up in the mountains and at least twenty
miles from the nearest town meant she was literally at his mercy, and theirs too. They
were Daddy’s maids, four of them, and given her new situation, they were like a quartet of
evil harpies.
She had never trusted them since they came into Daddy’s life, shortly after Layla
had left home to pursue her adventures. First came Cass, short for Cassandra, she was a
mean looking blonde in her early twenties. Lila met her when she visited Daddy for his
forty-third birthday, and the bad vibe she felt with her never diminished, and in the last
few days she had learned why. She rarely saw Daddy since she had been ‘boxed,’ with Cass
and her cohorts tending to her most of the time.
Cass’s cohorts were Linda, Sally, and Amber. Linda was a brunette who had long legs
and a big chest, one that rivaled even Layla’s ample bosom. Sally was a petite redhead;
one who Layla remembered was rather flat chested but was since enhanced, likely at Daddy’s
expense. Then there was Amber; she was also petite with dirty blonde hair that hung to her
shoulders. Amber, like Cass, scared Lila, having a look of true evil intent that was
always present whenever she looked at the captive girl. They all came to work for him as
his maids over the first year or two since Layla had taken her late mother’s trust fund
money and struck out on her own.
Once the maids had come to work for Daddy, Layla found that avoiding visits with
Daddy was the best practice for her. It was not just their demeanor toward her; it was
also how they dressed. For some reason that she could not fathom at the time, they always
wore diminutive and revealing uniforms. Sexy little maid outfits, with tight bodices,
short skirts, fishnet stockings, and impossibly high-heeled shoes. They looked less like
maids and more like sluts to Lila, and now she knew they were.
As she weakly struggled against the bonds she knew were unbreakable, Layla cringed
at the prospect of their morning ritual. They always came out of the house in the morning,
ready, willing, and able to humiliate the boxed girl. Once she had awakened this morning,
after another night of fitful sleep, she did what she had to do. As much as it humiliated
and grossed her out, she moved her bowels and urinated and now she was sitting in the foul
smelling mess. But sitting in her own excrement was far better than what would happen if
Cass and her entourage found she had not done her ‘business.’ Though it had not yet dawned
on her, she was taking the first steps towards her full submission to the demands of her
captors.
When she heard the patio door creak open she braced herself, having a new answer
ready for Cass when the time came, hoping it would satisfy the mean bitch and her
assistants. As usual, they were laughing and giggling as they came out of the house, like
schoolgirls heading out for recess. But their laughter only made Layla more miserable,
remembering how she used to love to laugh. In the last few days she began to wonder if she
would ever laugh again.
The four ‘maids’ came over to the box, with Cass standing directly in front of
Layla’s face, while the other three stood just behind her chief tormentor. Of course they
were dressed in the inadequate uniforms they always wore, ones that declared more about
their sexiness than their supposed positions as maids. Layla stared down at Cass’s long
legs covered by the fishnet stockings and black pumps, knowing that if she looked up at
her without permission she would suffer for it.
“How is baby today?” Cass asked, her tone as contemptuous as usual.
Layla hated that she called her that, as it used to be Daddy’s nickname for her.
But as required, she replied, “Fine Mistress, thank you Mistress.” She did her best to
sound sincere, even though she hated Cass with every fiber of her being.
“You almost sound believable, I see the box is starting to have an affect on you.
You smell putrid baby, did you soil yourself again?” Cass asked, knowing full well that
Layla was sitting in her own shit.
“Yes Mistress,” Layla replied, sticking to the script she had learned over the past
days. What they had done to her after the first night in the box, when she had cursed and
threatened them the next morning, was a situation she did not want to repeat.
“Oh my, I suppose you would like us to clean up your stinky bottom?”
“Yes please Mistress.”
“And what will you give us in return for tending to your needs?”
This was where Layla had devised her new approach, and she said, “Whatever pleases
you Mistress I just want to make you happy.”
“Lying CUNT!” snapped Cass, and then she looked over her shoulder and said, “Funnel
this bitch!”
The three other maids took up positions around the box, with two at the sides and
one standing behind it. Layla did not struggle when they shoved the large funnel between
her lips and used the straps attached to it to lock it in place behind her neck. Then the
maid behind her grabbed her oily and unwashed hair, pulling her head back as she wrapped
it around a cleat mounted to the back of the box. Layla was staring up at the sky now with
the funnel firmly wedged between her teeth.
Cass climbed onto the box, straddling Layla’s upturned head and squatted just above
the funnel. As usual she wore no panties with her shaven sex gaping open just above the
funnel. Layla braced herself as Cass began to pee, splashing her urine down the funnel and
into Layla’s throat. The poor girl gulped as fast as she could as the vile liquid filled
her belly, starting the nauseous feeling she always tried to resist. Once Layla finished,
the other three took their turns, all of them emptying their bladders into Layla’s mouth.
Though she wanted to vomit and the urge to do so was enormous, Layla struggled to
keep it down, knowing that would come soon enough. Finally, once all four had used her as
their toilet, they released her hair and removed the funnel. But that was not the end of
it, as the maid behind her again pulled her hair back and held it as Cass poured a small
vial of liquid down Layla’s throat. When her hair was released she pitched her head
forward and started to heave, vomiting out all the pee she had just consumed.
While she was still heaving up four bladders worth of pee, the maids started the
next part of their morning routine. By releasing catches at the bottom of the box they
were able to tip it forward onto its front side. This pitched Layla forward, her weight
resting on her knees now, as her face pointed down to the ground. The bottom of the box
had remained in place, leaving her backside exposed behind her, her buttocks covered with
her own shit. She was just getting over the vile retching when the hoses started to blast
against her soiled cheeks, powerfully removing the mess stuck to it.
She could not help but cry, as the cold water assaulted her exposed bottom, not
only stinging her ass cheeks, but also pelting against her unprotected pussy. But she
endured it without complaint, knowing they would whip her if she did. Finally it stopped,
and she shivered in the cool morning air as she felt her soaked body goose pimple from the
savage assault. Now she really had to brace herself, as she knew what would come next.
Amber took a vibrator and pressed it against her pussy, turning it on and making
Layla squeal as it assaulted her sensitive clit. She held it there until Layla came and
screamed, “Thank you Mistress!” even though she wanted no part of this sexual torture. She
tried to tell herself that it was a simple physical reaction she could not resist, but
each time they did this to her it took a little longer to climax with the intensity of the
orgasms growing each time. This morning it hit her like a freight train, rattling her down
to her bones and making her wonder why she had never before felt such potent climaxes.
Layla had been sexually active for years, having enjoyed sex, and orgasms in
particular. She always thought they felt good, but why now, in this hellhole, did they
feel so earth shattering? As she quivered in unwanted sexual release her mind was reeling
as she tried to deny how good it did feel. She tried to tell herself that since everything
else she was enduring was so degrading that this simple human function just seemed better
than it used to be. But once again the feelings raging through her body intensified and
she feared that she might start craving them.
After the vibrator was removed, with waves of ecstasy still swirling through her,
they returned the box to the upright position. Once locked down again it was time for
breakfast. Sally sat in front of the box on a small stool and fed the temporarily
satisfied Layla her morning gruel. It was cold, bland, and a generally unappealing mush,
but the famished girl ate each spoonful, her hunger and the fading orgasm making her
agreeable to this treatment. When the bowl was empty and she drained a glass of water she
braced herself for the next step in the morning ritual.
Cass returned and climbed up onto the box, this time on her knees. She pushed
Layla’s head back and lowered her pussy over the girl’s mouth. Layla began to lick and
suck on her cunt, knowing Cass would not move off her face until she gave her an orgasm.
Today it only took her a few minutes to satisfy the cruel blonde and just like the peeing
ritual, the other three all took their turns, making Layla’s jaw ache before she had
satisfied the quartet. Thankfully she was a quick learner making all four of them climax
with her newfound skills, though it still disgusted her. She had never even considered
being with a woman before, at least until they forced her to do it. But like every aspect
of this ritual, failure to please them brought painful consequences, which she wanted to
avoid.
After servicing her tormentors, they left her alone again to stare at the beautiful
scenery, but unable to enjoy it at all. She tried to settle in for another long day in her
box, forced to sit here alone, immersed in her thoughts. The first day she was consumed
with hatred but yesterday it started to melt into frustration and helplessness. Today it
started to become acceptance; at least to the point of knowing she would remain here until
Daddy was satisfied she was ready to be released. She hoped that when he came to visit her
near sunset, as he had the first two days, she could convince him she was ready to be
brought back inside the house.
Daddy, the man that had raised her, bounced her on his knee, and kissed away her
fears when she was little, had become the architect of her constant misery. He had
summoned her here, the family retreat in the mountains, four days ago, as he usually did
when he was not pleased with her. So what if she had flown to Monaco and bought twenty
thousand dollars in jewelry? Daddy had plenty of money and that was just a drop in the
bucket. But after he learned what she did, she came at his summons, like she always did,
expecting to hear him yell at her and give her vain threats of cutting her off, but that
didn’t happen this time.
She flew back to the States and then drove the two hours it took to reach the lodge
where they spent every summer until she was eighteen. When she reached the age of
adulthood, once she had access to the trust fund her mother left her when she passed away
five years ago, she started down the path of excess. She decided not to pursue any
education after high school, much to Daddy’s dismay, and instead she became the consummate
party girl. As he had no control of the trust fund, she was able to basically do as she
pleased, at least until it ran dry a few months ago.
That prompted her to petition Daddy for a new stream of funding, which he
grudgingly did when she promised to find some focus in her life. At first she restrained
herself and lived within the budget he dictated, but five thousand a month was not enough
to keep her satisfied. It was not until her spending spree in Europe that he called her
and ordered her to visit him. She laughed at him, but when her funds were frozen, she
relented and came to the lodge.
When she arrived he was particularly nice to her, something she did not expect.
After unpacking her bags and taking a shower, she joined him for dinner. They ate and he
lectured her about finding limits, but again he was strangely relaxed in his approach. She
had expected a righteous argument, but instead he treated her like an adult, keeping the
conversation civil. By the end of dinner she thought she had wooed him again, but she
started to feel light-headed. It had taken her a full day to recollect that night, but
once she passed out after dinner she woke up inside the box and found everything had
changed.
He was sitting in a lawn chair facing her when she first came around and she stared
at him in utter confusion. It took her a few moments to realize her predicament, but once
she did, she started yelling at him. She was terrified but tried to cover that feeling
with her anger, calling him all kinds of names and demanding that he release her.
Once she had vented and started to look at him with real fear in her eyes, he said,
“The time for talking is over baby. It is clear to me you need boundaries, rather severe
ones I fear. When your attitude improves you will be released from the box and start
training for your new position in life, one where I will control every aspect of it, just
like I did with your mother.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she spat at him.
“Your mother was my slave, a wonderful woman who knew how to treat me. I do believe
you have the same tendencies and I plan to reveal them to you.”
“You are fucking crazy!” she screamed, unable to accept what he was saying.
But now, starting her third full day in the box, she wondered about mom and what
she was to Daddy. Thinking back she began to remember how mom always deferred to Daddy.
Maybe what he said was true, but over the last two days the idea of becoming Daddy’s slave
had disgusted her. How could her own father treat her like this and expect her to accept
him as something so taboo? But now that the third day in the cramped box was starting, her
mind began looking for a way to allow herself to capitulate to his demands. She figured if
she could get out of this box, she could maybe find a way to escape. Many hours later, as
she watched the sun setting in the west, he came out for his daily visit.
“Well baby, are you ready to come inside and begin your proper training,” he asked
as he stood above Layla’s head.
“Yes Daddy, I know I was a spoiled brat and need you to teach me how to behave,”
she said, nearly convincing herself this was the truth.
He could hear the beginnings of surrender in her voice, but he also knew it was not
yet ingrained in her. But that would come, at least now she was subjugated enough to start
the next phase of her training. So he said, “I will send Cass and my girls out to release
you soon, obey them completely or they will put you back in the box, is that understood?”
“Yes Daddy, thank you Daddy!” she replied, feeling a small moment of triumph now
that he actually said he would let her out of the damned box.
“Good girl, soon you will learn to not only accept your fate, but to embrace it. I
know you do not believe it yet, but eventually you will see the wisdom in my decision,” he
said, just before leaving her alone again.
She did not really believe it, but she had decided to play the role he demanded
until she could find a way out of this nightmare. She waited patiently, eager to stand up
and move about again, a freedom she never appreciated until she lost it a few days ago.
When the maids returned to release her she quietly waited as they removed the top of the
box and released her wrists. She did not even resist when they pulled them behind her back
and locked them together, leaving her just as helpless. They removed the strap holding her
legs together and two of them helped her to her feet.
It was then that she realized how stiff and sore her muscles and joints were, only
able to stand with assistance. The four worked together to lift her from the box and stand
her on the lawn. As two of them held her up, the other two started to massage her legs,
and soon she was able to stand on her own. It was then that they blindfolded and taped her
mouth closed, and again she accepted the shame this caused her, not wanting to be put back
in that box.
Finally she heard Cass say, “Take baby down to the playroom,” as she felt two women
grasp her by her shoulders and guide her into the house. It was then Layla realized that
she had achieved nothing by being released from the box. All she had done was demonstrate
that she would capitulate to their demands under extreme duress, to the point where she
nearly believed it herself. This sent a chill down her spine as she wondered what ghastly
things would happen next. Daddy had already subjected her some of the most demeaning acts
possible, at least she thought so, but as she was taken back into the house, she was not
sure of anything at all.
The one thought that scared her the most, that she had kept deeply buried since
this started, began to plague her again. Even though the maids were mostly handling her so
far, she ultimately knew they were doing it for him. And eventually he would want
something from her, something that was still inconceivable to her. It hung there like a
gigantic weight around her neck, threatening to plunge her into an abyss of despair. And
tonight she gave him the first hint that he could coerce her into anything if the right
pressures were applied. With her hopes dashed again and her head hung low, she was briskly
shuffled into the house, or more fittingly, her new prison.
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