I woke up to the faint light seeping through the curtains, my head heavy with confusion. I couldn't recall how I ended up in bed. The last thing I remembered was the blissful high of shooting my cum onto my gorgeous basement slave’s face.

Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled out of the room and into the small surveillance area I had set up. As I gazed at the monitors, a wave of joy came over me as I saw my young captive laying on her mattress.

I made my way down to the kitchen, in order to cook my ( or our ) breakfast. The sound of the crackling bacon was like music to my ears, and the sight of the golden pancakes sizzling in the pan made my mouth water. I savored every moment as I cooked the eggs to perfection and poured a generous amount of maple syrup over the finished product.

When I was done eating, I dumped all the leftovers into Emily’s metal bowl, before heading down to the basement.

Upon placing my slavegirl’s meal on the floor, I noticed the ring gag still locked behind her teeth, although I wasnt sure if it was Emily’s obedience or the tightness of the fit keeping it there.

Since my slave’s arms were still restrained behind her back, the only relatively comfortable laying position were her sides.

The sight of my captive pet, her gaping mouth producing a small puddle of saliva right next to her face, was adorable.

I decided however, that she had enough sleep.

I gave the mattress a gentle kick to wake her up.

Startled and confused, it took Emily a couple seconds before she sat up.

I wondered what kind of thought went through her head in moments like these. Did she dream of being free? Did she think this was all just a big nightmare and that she’d eventually wake up in her comfortable, fluffy bed at home?

“Good morning slave”, I said, as I looked at her in anticipation.

“..Good morning, sir”, she answered in a much less enthusiastic kind of way.

“Here’s your breakfast. You’ve really earned it, with last night’s performance”, I said, as I quickly grabbed the outline of my large cock through my jeans.

Seeing my slave’s facial expressions change upon remembering yesterday’s blowjob ordeal was priceless.

She closed her eyes, full of shame.

“Eat up now. And don’t forget to lick the bowl clean”, I instructed as I was already on my way out.

The rest of this particular day went pretty normal. Emily had asked my permission to use her “toilet” and got to enjoy one of her “cold showers” straight from my garden hose.

Unbeknownst to my slave though, I had planned something very special for the evening. I was going to start the next phase of my overall plan.

At around 8pm, I found myself standing in front of the cell once again. As I swung the heavy door open, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my captive girl and her ring-gagged mouth.

Without a word, I gestured for her to step out of the room. She seemed puzzled, but complied.

As soon as she reached me, I grabbed one of her restrained upper arms and walked towards the second basement door. Just like the one of her cell, it was a reinforced metal door, similar to those they use for cooler rooms.

My anticipation grew as I enjoyed every little microexpression in Emily’s face, who visibly grew more nervous every passing second.

With no sense of urgency, I slowly entered the passcode and pushed the door open.

Immediately, my slave turned pale and struggled against my grip. Panic was now written in her eyes as we stood in front of my latest “project”.

Although the room was similar in size to her relatively large cell, it was a totally different world.

In the middle of the fully renovated space was a big, comfortable divan bed with black covers. The walls were painted in a dark, sort of wine-like, red.

Emily’s shock came from a different source though, I was sure, as I looked around the different furniture pieces all around the room.

Hanging on the walls and standing on shelves was every BDSM-enthusiasts biggest dream. The wide array of gadgets ranged from whips, canes and nipple clamps to all possible sizes of dildos and buttplugs.

My slaves eyes rapidly moved from one torture device to the next, as her breathing sped up.

In one of the corners, there was a custom padded bench, with straps and D-rings all over.

Frozen in terror, Emily remained glued to her spot as I tried to lead her inside. Despite her little “resistance”, I eventually managed to pull her into the new room.

After closing the door, I withdrew a small key from my pocket and moved towards a big closet, as I explained: “Don’t get your hopes up. This isn’t your new room. You’ll always stay in your cell next door. Slaves shouldn’t live in luxury anyway.”

Her eyes followed me, as I eventually reached my destination and opened it.

Inside, there was a decent number of large, high quality cameras and their respective accessories. Lenses, mounts, straps, memory cards and much more.

i looked back at a now puzzled Emily.

“This room only serves one purpose. Starting tomorrow, you will be my very own, personal pornstar. We will film some pretty spicy content together and upload it onto your new, very own LonelyFans account. Aren’t you excited?”, I proclaimed in a taunting, cheerful way.

My slave’s confusion only grew as I described my plans for her.

“You’ll be a star in no time and make me lots of money. This room was expensive, after all. So I’m looking for a return on my investment”

Emily switched her view from one of the cameras to the large bed. Her rapid blinking couldn’t hide the tears forming in her eyes.

“I first wanted your Pornstar name to be ‘Basement Girl’, but unfortunately, this might’ve been a little too risky, given our complicated relationship. And this room doesn’t really look like a basement either, does it?”

I stepped in front of her and grabbed Emily’s face from both sides, using my thumbs to wipe away the new tears.

“So we have to find a better one, huh?”

The lack of responsiveness produced a stern look on my face, as I looked at her disapprovingly.

“Right?”, I insisted.

“Yeth Thir”, she eventually answered through her gag, unable to prevent a small stream of drool to flow out.

“Good”, I continued as I walked back to the closet and opened one of the drawers.

“We obviously can’t just upload videos of a kidnapped girl who’s all over the news. Eventually, someone would recognize you, especially with our ambitious goals.”

I withdrew a small, black item and turned back towards my collared slave, who was now visibly eager to find out where I was going with this.

As soon as she got a good look at the fabric in my hand, her eyes once again closed in despair.

“Unfortunately, the viewers won’t be able to see your gorgeous face with this. But I’m sure the sight of a faceless slave going through humiliation and degradation is going to be well worth it”, I said, as I looked down at the rubber hood in my hand.

to be continued.