As the first hour of her punishment passed, Emily’s determination began to waver. Sweat glistened on her forehead as she transitioned from position to position.

However, it was the repeated command for squats that challenged her the most. Although I had told her that the time interval between each position was random, I’d programmed it in a way that would leave her squatting for extended periods of time.

As the second hour dragged on, the strain on her body became almost unbearable.

Another factor I’d calculated in was the mental struggle of staying focused during the monotonous task. Several times already, I had watched my naked slave go into a wrong body position before noticing her mistake and swiftly adjusting in the correct way.

Even as an observer, Emily’s punishment felt like an eternity. For her, it must’ve been even worse. My role as her owner though, allowed me the privilege of taking breaks, a luxury that wasn’t available for my tormented basement girl.

Finally, as the fourth hour drew to a close, Emily’s body was pushed to its limit. Every muscle quivered with fatigue, and her spirit teetered on the edge of surrender. Yet, with sheer determination, and the obvious fear of an even harsher punishment, she endured.

As it finally ended, my naked slave collapsed to the floor, drenched in sweat but overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment.

As I pressed the microphone button on my phone, I decided to not let her enjoy this emotional high: “Well done slave! Now, why don’t you do me a favor and stay in the ‘Squat’ position until i’m with you. Come on, up up, lazy girl.”

Emily’s exhaustion turned to anger and despair as she struggled to comprehend the injustice of her situation. Letting out a desperate grunt, she moved herself into the instructed position, as the tremble in her legs started once again.

I took my sweet time, as I poured myself a new glass of wine, enjoying the very well visible differences in our respected positions.

As the minutes passed, Emily’s facial expressions got increasingly more worried. She knew I had the power of letting her stay this way for as long as I wanted. She couldn’t just give up now and let the four (!) last hours be for nothing.

After about ten more minutes of sweat, pain and exhaustion, I eventually startled my 19 year old slave as I opened the heavy door. However, since I hadn’t specifically given her the order to stop, Emily kept staying in her squatting stance, while looking at me with pleading eyes.

As I walked around my slave’s trembling body, I grabbed both of her shoulders from behind and pressed downwards, increasing the difficulty. Through squinting eyes, Emily lasted a couple more seconds before she eventually collapsed to the ground.

As the naked girl looked up at me, I disapprovingly said: “Well, looks like you failed your punishment.”

Just when she opened her mouth to beg, with tears building up in the corners of her eyes, I stopped the attempt: “I’m just kidding. You did well.”

Relieved of all the pressure, my slaves head sunk back onto the cold cement.

“Now get back up though. You shouldn’t just lay there in your owners pressence.”

As she reluctantly moved her aching body up, I got my first view of Emily’s “post workout” body.

Covered in a thick layer of sweat, I noticed her big breasts heaving with each breath she took. Despite the tangled, messy hair and slight body odour, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.

Taking her by surprise, I reached out with one of my hands, grabbing her pussy in a sensual way, as I rubbed my three middle fingers in between her labia.

Stunned by this sudden approach, Emily’s eyes widened as she froze up.

As I kept going, I whispered: “You’re such a sweaty mess, girl. Why are you so sweaty? Did you give everything to please your owner?”

Embarrassed by my taunts, Emily remained silent and sunk her head in shame.

When I eventually withdrew, my hand was covered in sweat and pussy juice, which produced thick threads connecting each of my fingers.

“Look at this. Aren’t you disgusted by yourself?”, I continued as I rubbed it onto my slave’s face, leaving a trail of body fluids on her forehead, nose and lips.

Shuddering in repulsion, the 19 year old kept listening.

“Since you’re gonna have your meal in a few minutes anyway, you wouldn’t mind cleaning my fingers really quick, would you?”, I requested, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Emily’s mind raced with disgust. She looked me straight in the eyes, ensuring this wasn’t just another twisted joke. However, my confident and cold demeanor made the situation cristal clear for her.

Revolted, my slave opened her mouth to welcome each individual finger. Closing her lips around them, she cleaned them from her own pussy juices as I slowly pulled them out.

Her face in that moment was priceless.

“Yummy, hmm?”

Just like the previous days, I had let my slave eat her meal from the metal bowl. Due to the immense sweating during her punishment session, I even refilled her cup of water twice.

As I picked up the empty and spotlessly licked dishes, I was surprised to notice my slave move into the “Beg” position all by herself.

“What is it, slave?”, I asked.

With a nervous voice, Emily requested: “M..may I please use the toilet, sir?”

Proud of my servant’s obedience by following the rules, I nodded.

“Thank you sir”, she answered, before moving to the bucket.

This time, given her growing obedience, I decided not to stay and leave her some privacy.

When I returned a few minutes later, I ordered Emily to carry the bucket to the drain just outside of her cell. From now on, it would be her own responsibility to keep her “toilet” clean.

For the first time in days, my slave found herself outside of the room that now made up her life.

For a second, I caught her taking a peek at the staircase. Freedom was so near. All she had to do was walk her way up to the overground…to her old life…her friends and her family.

I reminded a now teary-eyed Emily of the shock collar, which would render her unconcious if she ever attempted to.

Defeated, she turned towards the drain on the ground as I handed her the garden hose.

“Go for it. And do a good job.”

Repulsed, Emily used the water to empty all the contents of the bucket into the drain.

Satisfied by her work, I took hold of the hose and said: “We might as well free you from all the sweat. Back into to the cell and in the corner, slave. And don’t forget your bucket.”

Slightly amused, I saw Emily frantically look around the unknown room as she made her way back to the cell. She must’ve been searching for anything that could help her escape this nightmare.

After our second cleaning ceremony of the day, I gave my slave a towel and hair dryer to make herself presentable. I even let her use a brush to finally straighten her tangled hair.

I eventually ordered Emily to put it into a ponytail, as I handed her a black hair tie.

Once again stunned by my slave’s beauty, even after days of basement captivity, I continued: “Alright. Turn away from me. Arms on your back.”

Worried about my intentions, she slowly did as commanded.

Click Click

In a smooth and quick way, I handcuffed the woman’s hands behind her, rendering them useless.

When she noticed, it was already too late for her to react.

“Stay still. Turn back around”, I said sternly.

More vulnerable than she’d ever been, Emily turned back towards me, still remaining silent.

I ordered my servant onto her knees, which produced a pain-filled grunt from her side. Four continuous hours of position training had left them aching and slightly scraped.

Much to my delight, those simple orders and demands were now being followed without hesitation by the young woman. The punishments did well to teach this lesson.

Finally ready for the next step in my slaves journey, I continued: “Alright slave. Well done. Now, i’ve had a very busy day today. We can’t all just stay in a cell and do some squats.”, I taunted.

Although she didn’t show it, I was certain that Emily was fuming inside, as I belittled the physical torture she was forced to endure all morning.

“So I figured it’s only fair if you relieve me of some stress.”

Confused at my words, my slave watched me take something out of my pocket.

It took her a while to understand the item’s use or what impending act it implied.

Her eyes widened in horror as she finally realized that I was holding a ring-gag.

to be continued.