part 2

By the sound of the footsteps, I knew it wasn't her, but the evil man who had brought me here. He came down the stairs with more food, looked at me, and saw the empty pizza box and soda. He smiled, placed the food on the floor, and approached me. I was completely paralyzed and in shock at seeing him. He put his hand on my head and began to stroke my hair, and I didn't react.

"Well, girl, you did well choosing to live. You'll live better here than on the streets, I promise. You just have to behave," he said with a tone that would make anyone think he genuinely believed he was doing something good for me. I don't know what happened to me, but I just stayed there while he stroked my hair, head down, not looking him in the eyes. I barely processed what he said; I just wanted some affection, and that felt comforting. I knew I shouldn't enjoy it, but I felt so lonely and sad that feeling something good for once was too much to reject.

The man stopped after a short time and went back up the stairs without saying anything. I came out of my stupor and processed what he had said: rage overtook me, and I started messing up my hair and pulling at it, wanting to tear it out. That bastard thought this was better than living on the street. I preferred to die rather than stay here, I thought furiously. I screamed in frustration, and suddenly, hunger hit me. I had slept for hours and had only eaten once all day, and those sandwiches he brought looked so good, but I knew they were contaminated.

I desperately tried to take off the collar around my neck and unhook the chain for maybe half an hour, but it was all useless, and now I was just hungrier. I began to sob, crawled humiliated to the sandwiches, and started eating them. I resigned myself; what else could I do? I took a bite, and some semen dripped from the sandwich onto my lips. I felt disgusted again, but I was so hungry that I kept eating regardless.

When I finished eating and drinking the soda, I climbed onto the bed; I didn't care that it was stained with semen. What did anything matter? I slept until the next morning, or so I think because down there it was hard to tell time. I didn't get out of bed; what was the point? I just stayed there, wanting to die for hours.

I heard the door open. It was him again. I listened as he left the food on the floor and approached me to see why I wasn't moving. He turned me over and looked at my face; my expression told him everything. My will to live had abandoned me, but he still asked, "What's wrong with you?" I didn't respond, I stayed silent; what was the point of talking? The man thought for a moment and then said, "I know what will make you feel better." He turned me over and put my face against the bed. I still didn't react. I felt his enormous cock forcing its way into my tight vagina. It was the only thing I had felt in hours that seemed real.

The pleasure when he began to penetrate me made me feel something. My wet pussy dripped as he fucked me, and this time I wanted it. I moaned with pleasure; it made me feel alive. I simply turned off my brain, enjoying the pleasure of being fucked over and over, forgetting everything else, just focusing on the pleasure. It felt so good. The man seemed to fuck me for a pleasurable eternity, thrust after thrust, moaning and panting as if possessed, until I felt it again: that fire in my belly, my pussy throbbing and dripping as I came.

I started to moan loudly. The man didn't stop, and honestly, I didn't want him to. He thrust harder and faster while I moaned nonstop, feeling his weight crushing me. I could barely breathe. "You see, this is your purpose, to please me, your master," he said, and I felt a deep thrust. The fire reignited in my belly, and I began to come again on his cock, panting. For a moment, I wondered if what he said could be true, if this was my purpose, but I pushed the thought aside and told myself I just needed to feel good, to have some pleasure, to keep living.

Shortly after, I felt his member pulsing. The man groaned, and I felt my pussy wetten as he unloaded his semen in me, filling me up. That comforting feeling came over me again as he filled me. His member softened, and his weight lifted off me. His hand rested on my head, and he began to stroke my hair. "Good girl, you're starting to see your purpose," he whispered. I lay there panting softly while he stroked my hair, and then he left. I smiled, I don't know why, I just smiled to myself. I thought I was going crazy, but I didn't care.

I crawled to the food and devoured it. I was starving; I didn't care at all that it was contaminated. Then I crawled back to the bed, thinking about what had happened, but my mind was blank. I slept a bit and woke up, still trying to think, but I was blank. A long time passed until the reality of what had happened finally hit me. I felt dirty, like a whore. I started crying because I had done that, because I hadn't resisted physically or mentally, because I had let that monster stroke my hair. I had no answer to those questions haunting me, I just cried and sobbed until the door sounded again. I knew by the footsteps that it wasn't the man, it was the girl, Haley. She came down the stairs naked, as always, carrying food. She left it on the floor, noticing that I was sobbing, and came over, sitting next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't cry anymore, tell me what happened," she said in a soft, compassionate voice.

"Leave me alone," I said.

"Please, tell me," she insisted.

I needed to vent to someone so I wouldn't go crazy, so I gave in.

"I feel like I'm going crazy," I said, wiping away my tears.

"You're not going crazy, Caroline," she said tenderly. "You know, I felt just like you at first. I resisted, cried every day, and hated the master. But over time, I stopped resisting. Though it was hard to admit, I began to enjoy pleasing him, enjoyed when he stroked my hair. I started to desire his visits here in the basement. Then I realized he was right. This was my purpose, to please him, and that made me happy. But I still doubted if he really loved me.

One day, I became seriously ill, and the master took me upstairs. He cared for me, fed me, and bathed me. He spent weeks taking care of me and pampering me, even allowing me to live with him. That's when I knew he truly cared."

She paused and looked at me with understanding before continuing:

"I realized I don't want to go anywhere else because I love our master, and I feel happy pleasing him. You can also find peace and happiness, Caroline. You just have to stop resisting and embrace your purpose," she said kindly and sympathetically while rubbing my back, trying to comfort me.

I listened in silence and attentively until she finished. I didn't know what to respond; her words hit me because I was also starting to enjoy it, even if I denied it. Many confused thoughts began to overwhelm me.

Haley hugged me, and I cried on her shoulder. "Calm down, calm down, everything's fine, Caroline," she whispered, trying to soothe me. When I calmed down a bit, she pulled away from the hug.

"I know how to cheer you up. When the master is sad, this always cheers him up," she said before taking my hand and placing it on her bare chest. I blushed. I always denied it, but I was a little attracted to girls. Her breasts were so beautiful and soft. Suddenly, she moved my hand to squeeze her breasts.

"Come on, don't be shy. I know you like them," she said. I let myself be carried away by the moment and began to grope her breasts. She moaned softly and said with a giggle, "See, now you look happier." She pulled away, leaving me with the warm sensation of her breasts in my hands.

Then she brought the food, which was enough for more than one person. "The master said you felt lonely, so I thought we could eat together," she said and offered me a sandwich. I didn't dare take it, so she took a bite despite it being contaminated.

"Oh, it's good. Try it," she said. I don't know what it was about that girl, but I ended up giving in and tried it. "That's it, see, there's nothing wrong with it. It's just food." I knew that logic wasn't very sound, but it felt good to eat with someone who didn't judge me and didn't think it was disgusting. In some twisted way, it made me feel normal, less dirty.

I ate the sandwiches with Haley and felt good, not like with sex, but normal. Haley said goodbye and left when we finished eating. I no longer felt so much disgust for myself, and the thought struck me that maybe this wasn't so bad...