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Trigger warnings:Ā Non-consent, abduction, forced imprisonment, drugging, brief mentions of suicide, degradation, forced BDSM, and cruel punishments (including but not limited to starvation and isolation).
Note: This story, including all names and people, is entirely fictional and not based on any real life experiences or events.
If you like this story and want to read more, you can find a list of all my storiesĀ here!š You can also find a list of the parts of this story whenever they are published.š„°
I wake up starving, which isnāt surprising, but what is surprising is my Master placing a tray of breakfast food on the bed. It contains eggs and bacon, toast, and even some fruit.
My heart warms at the sight of it, but even though Iām happy at the sight of the food, I canāt forget how cruelly he treated me these past ten days. Leaving me isolated and alone, starving and peeing on the floorā¦It makes it hard to appreciate a kind gesture.
But Iām still hungry, so when he starts by feeding me a piece of bacon, I take a bite without complaint. But apparently, my Master also knows itās impossible to just go back to normal so fast, because he says, āWe need to talk, Hannah.ā
I swallow the bacon, suddenly nervous. Who starts a conversation like that? I mean, yeah, we do need to talk, and he told me we were going to talk today, but why say it like weāre breaking up or something?
Wait, heās not going toā¦right?
He must catch my suddenly nervous face, because he smiles softly and says, āDonāt worry. Youāre not going anywhere.ā
Thatās a relief to hear, which doesnāt even surprise me anymore.
āWhatā¦ā I start, barely finding my voice. My Master feeds me another piece of bacon, and I silently thank him with my eyes for giving me an excuse to not talk until I find the right words. Once I swallow, I continue. āWhat did you want to talk about?ā Thereās an awkward pause, one I eventually break by adding a āMaster.ā
He smiles a little at that, but it fades before he says, āWhy did you try to escape?ā
I canāt help but glance away, awkwardly wringing my hands in my lap. āI donāt know,ā I whisper, looking down.
My Masterās large hand comes to beneath my chin, tilting my head up until Iām forced to look at him. āTell me, little pet.ā
It takes me a few long seconds before I find my courage. āI panicked,ā I say, even though it feels like a lie. Iād been trying to find a way to escape for months and I finally took a chance as it presented itself. I guess in a way, I sort of did panic, but itās not like escaping itself was a split-second decision. If I hadnāt tried then, I wouldāve tried another time.
Iā¦I say that like it wasnāt me who created that chance.
I quickly realise this excuse wonāt work, but my Master speaks before I can come up with another one.
āI donāt think thatās true,ā he says, and my heart suddenly begins beating much faster. Will he be angered by the truth? I canāt risk that, but all those thoughts disappear when his knuckles come to my cheek, rubbing up and down in silent reassurance. āTell me. I wonāt be angry.ā
I nod. āI justā¦I tried to find a chance, and I took it.ā
āBecause you want to escape me?ā
I hesitate, looking into his intense yet soft eyes. āNo,ā I whisper, unsure if thatās a lie or not.
His head tilts, and his eyes narrow a little, but not with anger. āYou wonāt be able to escape me. You know that,ā he says, feeding me a piece of toast. I do, in a way, know that, despite how desperate I am for a way out. After another pause, he continues, āI want you to be happy and comfortable here with me, my pet. I canāt have you thinking you want to run. I donāt want to keep punishing you every few weeks.ā
āI donāt want to be punished again, Master,ā I mutter in desperation.
āShh, shh. I know, princess. And you wonāt, but you have to obey me. I want you to be happy here, but I wonāt hesitate to punish you again should you disobey me.ā
Tears prick at my eyes. āI donāt know what to do,ā I whimper, surprised by my honesty. I desperately want to be happy, but how can I be happy in captivity? How can I be happy when, if he has his way, Iāll never see my family and friends again? Never be allowed to go to a bookstore or the damn park again?
Sure, there are things Iād like to never go back to, but even so, freedom is a thing I cherish. Having it ripped away from me like this is and being demanded that I enjoy itā¦itās too much for any one person to take.
My captorās eyes soften, clearly understanding my struggle and why I donāt want to verbalise it. He feeds me the last piece of my breakfast as he says, āYou donāt need to worry about anything beyond being my good little girl and obeying me. You know you want to.ā
When I nod, it doesnāt even feel like a lie. I want to be free, but heās trained me into enjoying being good for him, despite how much shame it gives me.
My Master grabs the tray of food and places it on the dresser drawer at the end of the bed, then scoots closer to me. He grabs my hips, pulling me up into his lap, his arms wrapping around me. It feels nice, getting this level of physical affection from him, even if we just had a very awkward conversation.
After a moment, my Master breaks the silence. āYou need to let go of your futile wishes to escape me, Hannah,ā he says, holding me tight. āOnly then will you be happy here.ā
I get teary eyed before I realise it. I sniff, nodding into his chest, but in my head, Iām so confused. How can he expect me to give in and be happy, when Iād have to sacrifice so much? How can I ever stop wanting freedom?
But, and I hate admitting this, the alternative to freedom isnāt even that bad. It would be one thing if I was chained to a radiator in the basement and some creepy, old balding guy kept me as a slave. All things considered; it could be a lot worse than this.
With him, Iām fed and taken care of. He gives me books to read, a room, allows me to go outside every once in a while. He keeps me clean, showers me with affection, and even eats me out with more enthusiasm than any other man Iāve been with.
Thatās not to say that this is better than freedom, but rather that even in the worst-case scenario where he keeps me as his pet foreverā¦is it even that bad?
I hate rationalising it like this, but with my captorās big arms wrapped around me, itās becoming increasingly harder to fight all the good feelings he forces me to feel.
I let him gently rock me in his lap, snuggling closer into his chest. I feel so safe in this position, despite how much I wish I didnāt, but part of me feels tired of fighting this.
After a while, my Master gently lifts me off his lap, laying me down in bed on my back. My heart flutters a little at the gentleness of his movements, but it stops completely when he adjusts himself until heās kneeling between my legs.
āMaster?ā I ask hesitantly.
āShh, my pet. Let me take care of you.ā
He leans down before he even finishes talking, and a gasp escapes me when his mouth comes down onto the most sensitive parts of me. His tongue, wet and warm, flicks my clit before his lips give it a kiss. Heās slow and careful, and itās already winding me up tight.
āFuck, I never get tired of the way you taste,ā Master groans, his hot breath fanning me. His fingers wrap around my thighs in a grip so tight that I gasp in pain, but he doesnāt loosen it. He just uses his strong grip to pry my legs apart, spreading me for him like Iām his favourite meal.
āOh, godā¦ā I moan, head kicked back against the pillow, revelling in the sensation of his face between my thighs. Breathy moans and gasps escape me at the soft sensations. Itās such a different experience when heās slow and careful like this, and it just makes everything I feel so much more intense.
One of his hands moves closer to my centre, his fingers playing with the edges of my pussy while his mouth closes around my clit. After a minute, his fingers creep closer, finally pushing slowly inside me.
I moan at the friction, my back arching and my hands coming down to his hair, gripping tight to keep him close. He lets me keep my hands there, but we both knows itās his choice, and that Iām the one under his control.
He groans as he slowly fingers me. His mouth is entirely focused on my clit, like heās worshipping it. I feel fucking divine, having this large, intimidating man pay so much attention to the most intimate part of me, giving me so much pleasure like heāll die if he doesnāt.
And with the way he sounds when he says, āYou taste so fucking good, baby,ā he truly sounds starved.
āPlease donāt stop,ā I beg, hopelessly grinding against his face and his fingers. Heās let me take some control by allowing me to grip his hair and grind against him, and Iām so happy for it. In this moment, thereās truly nothing Iād rather feel than his face against my pussy.
He thankfully doesnāt stop. He keeps doing the same thing heās been doing for the past few minutes, the pace of his fingers and the intensity of his licks hitting the sweet spot, letting me go higher and higher. Iām so close to the peak, and Iām desperately chasing it.
He pulls away, just an inch, and I groan in frustration before I can stop myself. He chuckles against me. āYou wanna come, my little pet?ā he asks.
āPlease, Master,ā I beg. His fingers are still inside me, so when I grind down, I manage to use them to fuck me a little.
My Master kisses my clit, muttering, āYouāre such a good girl, arenāt you?ā
I nod desperately. āPlease make me come, Master.ā
He doesnāt waste a second before his mouth puckers around my clit again. He sucks it into his mouth, a lot harder this time, and the moans I release into the air are so loud Iād be scared of the neighbours hearing us if we werenāt in the middle of nowhere.
Iām so close I can taste it, so I pull him so close Iām not convinced he can breathe anymore, but he doesnāt let up. His tongue flicks my clit while he has it in his mouth, and his fingers curl inside me, hitting that sweet spot and intensifying everything until itās nearly overwhelming. I canāt see anything but stars and I canāt feel anything but his fingers and his tongue, and after a minute, Iām pushed over the edge.
I cry out even louder than earlier, my back arching to an impossible degree and my vision blackening. The orgasm is so much more intense than Iām used to, because after so long of being away from him and feeling nothing but my stomach eating itself, having him eat me out like this is like going to heaven.
He doesnāt let up throughout my entire orgasm, letting me ride the wave until Iām nothing but shaking limbs and a puddle on the bed. Only then does he pull away, crawling up the length of my body until he can fuse his lips to mine.
I moan at the taste of myself on his lips, letting him pry mine apart with his tongue. Heās so intense, even with the way his tongue dances with mine in my mouth. I can feel his hard length pressing against my abdomen, and I want nothing more than to feel him inside me right now.
Once he breaks away, I ask for just that. āCan you please fuck me, Master?ā
He smiles. āThereās my good girl, asking so politely.ā His mouth comes down to my neck, and I moan when he sucks my skin into his mouth. Heās so aggressive Iād be worried about someone seeing it if there was anyone other than him to see it. Instead, I give into the feeling, and part of me loves the way he marks me like Iām his property.
After a minute of this, he says against my neck, āIāll fuck you, princess, but only if you beg me for it.ā
Fuck, why does he have to torture me like this? He clearly has no problem fucking me without my consent, so why is he so insistent that I give consent by begging for him to fuck me? Heās such a damn contradiction, I canāt stand it.
Still, when he begins unzipping himself, I canāt help but do as he says. āPlease, Master, please.ā
He pulls his cock out, slapping it a little against my wet and aching pussy. He hits me right on my clit, and the friction makes me moan. āI said beg, Hannah,ā he says, and I have to smother a groan.
āPlease fuck me, Master. God, please, I want it so bad,ā I whimper, humiliation heating my cheeks.
He lays his length down onto my core, grinding a little against me. It feels so good, yet not nearly good enough, and by this point, Iām delirious with pleasure and need.
āPlease!ā I gasp with desperation.
He lines himself up with my entrance, and I think Iām finally about to get relief, but he just pauses there, not moving. āSuch a good pet, arenāt you? Begging so well for me. Your needy cunt needs my cock that bad?ā
I nod desperately, because right now, nothing exists but my need for him inside me. āYes, Master,ā I whimper. Iām convinced Iāll cry if he doesnāt fuck me right now.
He smiles, then slowly pushes himself inside me. Relief floods my senses, and I moan at the stretch, at the way he hurts me just a little. Itās such a tight fit, yet it feels perfect.
His thrusts are slow and careful at first, yet he bottoms out with each one. Heās so deep inside me, forcing me to feel every inch of him, and when his hard body lays down on top of mine, I feel him on every inch of my skin as well.
His mouth finds my neck again, licking it and making me moan and writhe with pleasure. āOh, godā¦ā I moan when he bites me, marking me even further.
He pulls away just an inch, still thrusting inside me, and his hot breath makes me shiver as he says, āYouāre mine, Hannah.ā
āYes,ā I gasp out before I realise it.
He leans on his elbows, his face hovering over mine. āAre you?ā
āYes, Master,ā I force out. āIām yours.ā I moan and writhe beneath him as he takes me, so consumed by him that I barely register what Iām agreeing to.
āGood girl,ā he growls, then his mouth fuses with mine.
His thrusts turn quicker, just a little more violent, as his tongue pries my lips apart. We both moan against each other as our tongues swirl around. The feel of his hard body so close to mine and his tongue and cock inside me drive me closer and closer to a second climax, but what unleashes me is when he wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes.
I cry out, the sound getting lost somewhere in my Masterās mouth, as I feel myself being ripped apart at the seams. Heās right behind me, groaning as he plunges into me and comes somewhere deep inside me, filling me up. My limbs are wrapped around him, our mouths and tongues as close as they can be, as we both come apart for each other.
It's a pure, horrific ecstasy, the feeling overwhelming us both, and it takes a good minute before we come back down to earth.
He pulls out, and I cringe a little as he does. Iām so sensitive down there, Iām sure Iām red, so every inch of him passing through feels way too intense.
After he cleans me up in the shower, we spend the rest of the day together, either relaxing or fucking or talking. It feels nice to talk about things, even if I have to call him Master during every conversation, and it feels surprisingly normal. Like weāre a real relationship or something.
Obviously we arenāt, but itās nice to pretend, at least for a few hours.
The conversations get a little awkward whenever I talk about my family or friends, because of course. What can he say to make me feel better about missing them, when heās the one who ripped me away from them? Itās not like he can just take me to go see them one day.
Strangely enough, I find myself sympathising with the awkward position it puts him in. He canāt console me or apologise for taking me away from them, but he obviously still feels a little bad. Maybe thatās why I find myself reassuring him that Iām fine, even though Iām not.
After we eat dinner together, he gets us both ready for bed, but something surprises me when our heads hit our pillows. He doesnāt lock my ankle to the bed.
Things have changed, obviously, and I donāt know how he can ever trust me again after what I did. It doesnāt matter that heās shown me that he can overpower me and punish me for acting up, heād still be a fool to not take precautions.
But what doesnāt surprise me isnāt that he either forgot or didnāt bother locking my ankle to the bed. What surprises me is that I speak up about it.
āMaster?ā I ask, turning my head to look back at him. Weāre spooning, so when he answers, I feel his breath fanning the sensitive skin at my neck.
āYes, my pet?ā
I swallow, hesitating. Part of me thinks Iām fucking stupid for reminding him of the ankle cuff, and maybe I really am an idiot, but right now, I just donāt care.
āAre you going to lock my ankle to the bed?ā I ask, so low Iām not sure he heard me.
He doesnāt say anything for a while, and Iām about to repeat myself, but then he breaks the silence. āDo you want me to?ā
What a loaded question that is. Do I want him to? Not really. Okay, I kind of do, in a very, very fucked up way.
Itās hard to pinpoint why I nod, honestly, but as he reaches down and cuffs my ankle to the bed, I realise it. Itās not that I donāt want to escape, itās that I do, and thatās the problem. I want to escape so fucking bad, but some small, fucked up part of me wants to keep me from trying. Part of me wants to make sure I canāt escape, even if I want to, because now that Iām locked to the bed, I donāt feel bad about snuggling closer to my Masterās chest. Itās not like I can get away anyway, right? This way, I get to go to sleep peacefully, knowing that I have no way of getting away from him.
And maybe thatās why, when I drift off to sleep, the ankle cuff feels as comforting and safe as the way my Masterās arms feel wrapped around my waist.
Thank you so much for reading!š
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