Laying on the floor of the closet...

Well, that’s what the almost naked captive thought it might be.

Carole couldn’t really tell for sure with the snug leather hood robbing her of her vision and the earpods

stifling her hearing almost completely, along with the hood, her cuffed wrists and ankles that gave her no opportunity to explore.

At first she had protested loudly and struggled against him but that had only succeeded in earning an inflatable ball gag and

very painful stripes from a bamboo cane.

And so she surrendered to her fate and in the interest of survival, chose to do whatever she could to please him.

It was partly to avoid another caning but to an even larger degree because more and more she enjoyed serving him.

And how long she’d been there? She couldn’t hazard a guess of that either.

It was more than a day and likely even more than a week but that was based more on how many times she’d

been hauled out and used for his pleasure than anything else.

Every once in a while he would come in, unzip the opening that covered her mouth and feed her

some sort of nutritious gruel with his fingers and let her drink some sort of funny-tasting water through a straw.

She had assumed the odd taste was some sort of energy boosting mix, never even considering that it was a mix

of microdoses of psychedelic drugs that made her want only to submit more.

But she’d lost all sense of the passage of time and that might have been once or twice a day or every other day.

She only knew that by the time she was fed she was inevitably hungry.

It turns out, she discovered, that a diet of semen, as much as she enjoyed it, did little to assuage her hunger.

At least once a day he would carry her to a bathroom, set her

on the toilet, and stand by as she evacuated her waste. He took extra care wiping her, obviously making more

passes than were necessary over her vulva and clit and savoring the blush it gave her skin.

It was very humiliating at first but she quickly realized being humiliated could be a real turn-on.

Twice so far he had put her in a tub and used a coarse loofah to clean her up then dried her and took her back

to her tiny prison.

As for as her employer knew, Carole was on vacation in Hawaii and would be for several more weeks.

Whether she would be set free to return to her tedious job at that time she could not say and the looming memory of that cane along with the drug cocktail assured she'd never ask.

The earpods were more than just a way to inhibit her hearing and add to her disorientation.

They played a sub-audible loop of his voice that though she couldn’t hear it clearly, was reaching her mind.

“i am a pleasure slave... i live for my Master’s pleasure... my pain does not matter... my pleasure does not matter...

i am at my happiest when he uses me... i am his fucktoy... my holes love being filled with his cock and his cum... i never want to leave... i hope he comes and fucks me soon...”

Eventually those phrases replaced her thoughts and she began to genuinely believe that they were her own.

Any more she was always horny it seemed. Whether eating, sitting, on the toilet or being roughly scrubbed clean, just below her awareness of those activities was a burning desire to be fucked.

She had become so attuned to her other senses that she easily recognized her captor’s approach from the vibrations in the floor.

That gave her one clue- that she was not trapped in a cellar or some other place with a concrete floor. Not much of a clue but at least it was something.

But the vibrations that morning felt very different.

There were definitely more than one person’s steps being felt through the floor!

She heard the murmur of more than one voice, that was for sure.

In less than a second her thoughts about that raced from fear to humiliation to arousal to craving whatever was about to happen.

The blast of cool air as he opened the closet’s door coated her skin with goosebumps that remained erect when she realized there were more than one set of hands removing her from her makeshift cell.

She was lifted and actually thrown onto a bed, the moment of weightlessness as she flew through the air being quite disorienting.

The voices had gone silent as they appraised her.

Finally, the only voice she might have ever recognized ordered her to close her eyes, “The lights will be bright at first so keep them closed.”

She didn’t think about it, she just obeyed.

And felt fingers start to loosen the laces at the back of her hood.

The supple leather had become almost glued to her face by the mix of oil, dried sweat, and drool that her mouth and skin had produced and he had to tug it hard to get it off.

Slowly, she began to open her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the light.

Carole was pretty sure, based on his proximity and six foot height, that the man a little to her right was her kidnapper.

Turning her head first one way and then the other, she counted four more men around the bed.

All of their faces were mostly hidden by black balaclavas that left their mouths exposed, a sight she found to be simultaneously intimidating and a relief.

She’d watched enough thriller movies to know that if kidnappers hid their faces they intended to let her live.

“This is our fucktoy, gentlemen. She is an excellent cocksucker who is skilled at being throat fucked and has a tongue that you won’t believe. “

She blushed at his praise.

"Her cunt is very tight as, of course, is her ass.

“Unfortunately for you, as we discussed, that last hole is reserved for me.”

By this point she had become quite accustomed to his taking her anally and, aided by the drugs and subliminal indoctrination, come to look forward to it. Something about knowing that he had declared it strictly an activity between the two of them made her feel special.

Her captor stepped back and took a seat as the other men quickly shed their clothes and climbed onto the king-sized bed, their hands already reaching for her naked flesh.

Their faces were hidden but by the skin on their hands Carole could tell that the hands that immediately went for her perky tits were the youngest. Youngest, and judging by the way he manhandled them, touching a woman’s breasts for the first time.

There was one pair of hands that were markedly older and far more calloused. And seemingly knew their way around a woman’s body.

From behind her, his right hand reached down and pushed three fingers into a very wet pussy.

Laughing, with thickly accented English, he exclaimed, “Fucktoy is right! Her cunt is dripping!”

The other three laughed and the fucktoy’s whole body blushed. Not out of shame though. Because she took it as a compliment.

Someone else’s hand grabbed her hair and used it to turn her face to the side and push its owner’s tongue into her mouth.

The last set of hands seemed more interested in slapping her body than exploring it. With a hand under her chin, slightly gripping her throat, he lifted her up on her knees and began spanking the fair-skinned curves of her ass with his calloused hand.

The mix of sensations was almost overwhelming but the one constant, the unheard voice talking to her brain repeating its hypnotic mantra: “i am a pleasure slave... i live for my Master’s pleasure... my pain does not matter... my pleasure does not matter...

i am at my happiest when he uses me... i am his fucktoy... my holes love being filled with his cock and his cum... i never want to leave... i hope he comes and fucks me soon...” worked its magic and set a fire in her loins.

The young hands found her already stiff and aching nipples and crushed them between his thumbs and forefinger sending an almost electrical jolt straight to her cunt. And then he twisted them.

Just before Carole closed her eyes to try and process this new agony she caught a glimpse of her seated captor whose smile she would normally despise and thought “My pain does not matter. I hope he comes and fucks me soon.”

An animal-like sound, half way between a grunt and a moan escaped her lips before the hand gripping her strawberry blonde hair and turned her head and silenced her with a cock thrust into the opening of her throat.

She immediately began to enthusiastically serve and worship that intruder with her tongue, hoping that her actions would encourage her captor to use her too.

The oldest, roughest fingers were pumping in and out of her dripping pussy, relentlessly pushing her towards an orgasm she didn’t want.

“Give me a turn, ” she heard another accented voice say.

The cock that was fucking her mouth was withdrawn and her head was turned to the opposite side and a different one was thrust into her. It was a bit less clean than the other but Carole fought down her revulsion and concentrated on pleasuring it.

Well, she tried. The coarse fingers pumping in and out of her loins were very distracting!

She’d lost count of the number of times her captor had fucked her but knew exactly how many times he’d made her cum.

Zero.

At first she had assumed it was just because he was a selfish lover but had gradually come to the conclusion that it was his Sadism. Several times he’d brought her right to the edge and stopped just to hear her plaintive whine.

While he definitely enjoyed that sound, for him it was more a matter of conditioning her to accept her role so much so that when she would be offered her freedom, she’d reject it and beg to stay.

The young hands released her brutalized nipples and their owner stood, demanding his turn at fucking her mouth.

This long and slender organ was definitely cleaner and by comparison tasted almost sweet. And, because of its slender profile she felt it slide easily into her throat.

Her head was turned from one organ to the next to the next in a rotation she quickly lost track of and just relaxed and enjoyed being face-fucked.

“Enjoyed?” she thought. That was strange. It had only happened twice before and she hadn’t really enjoyed either. Sure, she liked how the men got so excited and how their semen seemed to erupt when they came. But that was more the effect that she enjoyed, not the act itself.

And yet here she was, getting face-fucked by three different men and very much enjoying it.

The oldest man’s right hand was working its magic on her clit and labia and pushing inside to find the anterior wall of her pussy but it was when he put his other hand around her throat that she almost came.

Carole had always enjoyed a bit of breath play, especially right as she orgasmed.

It grasped tighter. Just enough to restrict but not cut off her air.

“Please, Sir... may I cum?” she thought, surprised that her natural impulse was to ask for permission.

The three bodies that were taking turns thrusting their cocks into Carole’s hungry mouth blocked her view of the person she was mentally pleading with but it was almost as if he could read her mind.

“Go ahead. Make her cum.” he instructed.

And with a flourish the oldest man took her over the edge. With his right hand he pinched her clit and with the other he cut off her breath.

Her middle seemed to explode with the most powerful orgasm she’d felt in memory. She struggled to keep her mouth agape enough to avoid scraping one of the cocks with her teeth.

The long slender one that had been fucking her throat came first, skipping her tongue and emptying itself into her throat.

The next one withdrew so that only its bulbous head remained inside, resting just inside her lips as it too spewed its thick cum onto her tastebuds. She savored its rich, musky taste for a second before swallowing it and then showing her empty mouth.

The last pulled her hair hard as he vigorously fucked her mouth and throat. It was wider and took more force to get penetrate that far but it didn’t stop, or even slow him. In a few moments he added his to the others’ that was sliding down into her belly.

Sated, the three that had been getting sucked, stepped off the bed, allowing the oldest to push her down onto her back,

The cuffs dug uncomfortably into her skin but she was so excited by the realization that she was about to get fucked that she hardly noticed.

Looking over at her seated captor she saw only that infuriating grin as the unwanted thoughts, “My pleasure does not matter. I am his fucktoy.” invaded her mind.

Instinctively Carole opened her thighs, inviting the older man to take her.

Wiping his hand up her lips, he gathered some of her copious juices and smeared it over his cock.

Following his movements she saw that though his curly hair down there was partially gray, he still possessed a substantial erection. Easily bigger than his three coworkers and rivaling that of the host who’d invited them all to share his fucktoy.

Somewhere deep in her mind a tiny voice protested that self description but it was quickly drowned out by her lust for that organ.

“Take me! Take this fucktoy! Take it hard!” her thoughts pleaded.

And without hesitation he slammed into her, his pelvic bone crushing her clitoris painfully.

In response she smiled at him and opened her legs as far as she was able, which, because of her daily yoga routine was almost at ninety degrees.

He alternated his thrusts between hard and fast and slow and almost gentle. He’d been married for years and though still loved his wife and considered her still beautiful and attractive, their sex life had gotten rather mundane and the chance to fuck this cute little blonde bombshell was one he’d long remember.

(And which, over the next four or five weeks, his spouse would be the beneficiary of)

She loved the girth of this old cock, loved the way it stretched her opening with every thrust.

Looking over at her captor she noticed that his expression had changed. Still smiling, yes. But in a much less smarmy and creepy way. It was as if he sensed her pleasure and that pleased him.

When she looked at him with pleading eyes and mouthed, “May I cum.” He responded with an affirmative nod and she stopped trying to hold it back.

Her bucking hips as she came quickly set off the old man’s orgasm and she smiled at him as she felt his cock’s muscles contract as he filled her womb with his cum.

The combination the two orgasms and three blowjobs left her exhausted and she soon drifted off to sleep.

When she woke, some time later, she discovered she was back in her closet.

This time though, she was no longer hooded or gagged or wearing the earpods.

A thought that somehow made her very happy.

Carole had been in a bit of a daze when her Master...

"WAIT?! her WHAT?!

“When did I start thinking of him as that?"

Like so many of the questions and challenges she’d gone through since being taken, there was no clear answer.

True, he hadn’t declared himself that. And she had certainly not addressed him as that.

But it somehow seemed to fit.

Certainly the monotonous mantra that had being fed into her subconsciousness of his voice droning on with

“i am a pleasure slave... i live for my Master’s pleasure... my pain does not matter... my pleasure does not matter...

i am at my happiest when he uses me... i am his fucktoy... my holes love being filled with his cock and his cum... i never want to leave... i hope he comes and fucks me soon...” and the microdoses of drugs had a lot to do with it.

But it was becoming more than that.

As she usually did with such unanswerable questions she just let it fade away. She no longer had to worry about

her fate. It was up to him and for now, that was fine.

“When her Master brought her home.”

" WAIT?! her WHAT?!”

As strange as it would seem to someone on the outside and even a bit to her, she had become to think of floor of this closest

as her home. And if not her home, then certainly the place she belonged.

Carole felt pretty grubby. The mix of dried cum on the inside of her thighs and her chin were complimented by the crusty salt of her dried

sweat.

“I hope Master washes me today...” There it was again!

But this time, instead if questioning it, she thought about what it really might mean.

“If he is my Master then I am his... his slave!”

She tried to find a flaw in that conclusion.

“A Master can do whatever he wants with this slave. She is property.” True

“This slave has to do whatever her owner wants her to do.” Again true.

“If this slave refuses an order or doesn’t obey fast enough, this slave gets punished.” True. And for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, the thought made her very wet.

“This slave’s needs, this slave’s pain, and this slave’s pleasure are always less important than those of her Master.”

“This slave is happiest when she is allowed to serve her Master.”

Even if she’d been told that her conditioning was the product of mind control it wouldn’t have mattered. She felt more

content than she had in years.

She had liked her previous life “That was a weird way to think of it!” but it seemed right.

She was good at her job, had a circle of good friends “All of whom would be horrified to discover how much I love this!”

She had plenty of outside interests that kept her mind stimulated.

And yet none or all of them came close to providing the level of contentment she was feeling.

She let her mind drift to the previous day’s intense experience.

For the first time it occurred to her that she’d been gang-banged!

Like more than a few women she’d fantasized about being the center of attention for a parade of horny men who wanted to fuck her over and over and over.

True, in those masturbatory imaginings it had all been voluntary. But that seemed secondary to her having finally achieved it.

“Maybe if she asked Master nicely...”

And at that moment she knew she would. She knew that the next time she saw him she would thank him for it and ask him if it would please him to see her do it again.

She drifted off again and was awakened by the cool air of the door being opened.

She was still half asleep when she felt his strong arms lift her and throw her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carried out of the room. But not to the bathroom that was adjacent to the room with her cell.

Instead he carried her downstairs and out onto the patio at the rear of the house.

The area was private but still she got goosebumps at the knowledge that she was naked, cuffed, and outside.

He lay her down on the soft grass besides the tiled concrete and stepped over her to go and get a garden hose.

A fact she only became aware of when she felt its icy spray hit the apex of her thighs!

It wasn’t that cold. More just startling than cold.

“Open those legs, fucktoy!” he ordered and was instantly obeyed.

Turning the nozzle he made the water go from a gentle spray to a tightly directed stream that he pointed straight into her cunt.

She fought the urge to clamp her thighs closed and concentrated on keeping them open. It hurt a little but she could tell it was washing off and washing out the previous day’s spunk.

He moved up to her nice firm breasts and directed it her now stiff nipples. It definitely wasn’t comfortable but wasn’t that unpleasant.

“Open your mouth and close your eyes.”

Soon her face glistened and her mouth felt refreshed.

After going and shutting off the water her Master returned with a towel and none-too-gently used it to dry her.

“You were amazing yesterday, my hot little fucktoy. I could not have been prouder!”

She blushed and whispered, “thank you... Master...”

Their eyes met, both aware of the weightiness of that moment. She was blushing even more afraid that he might think her too forward or even worse, reject her as just a temporary kidnap victim he intended to use and then dump.

But he smiled and her heart melted.

“Is that what you want, fucktoy? Do you want me to be your Master? Do you want to be my slave?”

“Yes, yes, and definitely yes, Master, ” she voiced softly.

He caressed her cheek with affectionate gentleness. “It won’t be easy. Even if you decide to stay here voluntarily it doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you any differently.

“I’ll use you, torture you, and even share you, just because I can. Do you understand?”

Squirming over she placed her cheek on his foot and kissed his shoe. “Yes, Master.”

“When you have been a good girl I will take you to my bed and we will sleep together. But those will be an exception. Most nights you will either sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed or, when I get one, in locked cage.”

“Master?” she whispered, “May I make a request?”

He wasn’t unfair and permitted it, “Go on...”

“Instead of a cage... could you just make me wear that hood and my cuffs and put me back in my closet?”

Her use of the possessive tense did not go unnoticed.

Reaching down he grabbed the diminutive blonde under her arms and lifted her and deposited her in his lap.

“I guess I should put a pillow and blanket in there then.”

Bursting with joy at her Master’s sudden affection she assured him, “Only if it pleases you, Master. I’m used to it... well, no. I kind of like it the way it was.

“Time just goes away. All my thoughts and concerns go away. I become hyperaware of what few sensations I have and it feels very peaceful.”

He could not believe his good fortune. He’d imagined owning a slave but never pictured one giving herself to him like this.

Carole felt his hardness against the soft flesh of her ass and felt very proud. Pressing against his chest she raised her body and moved her ass up and down the length of his erection.

It was very forward for a slave but this time she would not be punished for it. In the future, however...

She had been avoiding his eyes but glanced up through the still damp mess of reddish blonde hair with pleading eyes, “please, Master...?”

He thought about making her grovel and beg but he was so pleased with her earlier performance that he felt generous.

“There’s one hole that didn’t get used today, isn’t there?”

Rubbing against his cock more vigorously she gave him her most seductive smile and whispered, “Please, Master. Take it, fill my ass with your beautiful cock and make me your slave.”

Slapping her still-damp ass with his right hand with a sound that echoed through the whole house, he pushed her off of him and onto her knees.

He put his fingers on her chin and raised her face to look at him. “Once I take you, Carole, there’s no going back. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“More than anything, Sir. I see it’s where I belong. It’s where I’ve always dreamt of being.”

He had a moment of doubt since he had been conditioning her artificially. But she was so perfect. So sexy. So desirable.

“Okay Carole. I hereby take possession of you. Tomorrow you will sign a slave contract but for now...” he slapped her cheek gently, “Get that cute ass up and go lay face down on my bed. And put a pillow under your hips. I’ll be up in a minute.”

As she lay waiting for her new Master she grew increasingly excited and was worried about how she must be soaking that pillow,

She finally heard his footsteps on the stairs and felt them approaching the bed. In a trice he had attached the cuffs on her wrists and ankles to ropes at the corners of the bed, pulling them tight so she could not move.

She felt his weight on the bed between her spread thighs and was surprised when he didn’t just take her ass. More than once he had done so without any lubrication and she expected no less today.

Instead, she felt his fingers in her dripping cunt and his thumb on her very swollen, very sensitive clit. In seconds she was having to struggle to keep her orgasm at bay.

Switching hands, he wiped her fragrant juices over his shaft and around her sphincter.

Still fingering her he pressed the bulbous head against that tight opening.

“When I enter you, my slave, you may cum...”