I hope you enjoy, this is a translated story, as my main language is pt-br, despite my fluent english I did not had the time to translate all that I have written. So please take that in consideration on your feedbacks and comments. I have done my best to review the translation in order to avoid any grotesque errors. Enjoy, this is a 7 part story
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BEEP…
Dayana, who felt as if she had only blinked her eyes, thought to herself: “It can’t be that my day is already starting; I just managed to fall asleep,” as she felt the discomfort of the slink plug invading her being. Her body ached from the previous night, the exercise, and her pathetic attempt to escape... Yes, the escape had left marks all over her body—scratches, cuts, and perhaps even scars.

The sound of the heavy door opening echoed through the dungeon, and the unmistakable noise of Anna’s high heels announced the beginning of yet another day. Dayana, still struggling to adapt to the discomfort of the plug inside her, lifted her head with difficulty, her tired eyes fixed on the imposing figure before her, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good morning, bitch,” said Anna, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She crossed her arms, assessing Dayana’s figure on the floor as if she were something disappointing. “I hope you enjoyed the night because today I had plans for you. But apparently...” She paused, leaning forward to point at the plug still firmly in place. “You decided to disappoint me. What a shame. I thought I’d have the chance to punish you and start the day right,” she said mockingly, “but today He wants you to recover and think about everything that’s happened so far.”

Dayana felt her face burn with shame and humiliation. She had kept the plug in out of sheer exhaustion, unable to gather the strength to remove it. Now, it seemed, it was just another reason for her torment. Anna sighed dramatically, as if dealing with a burden.

“Alright,” Anna continued, yanking Dayana off the floor with a firm pull. “Since you’re so comfortable with it, I think you won’t mind spending the whole day with it inside you.”

At this moment, Dayana panicked. Using the little energy she had recovered, she begged, “I’m sorry, but... please!!! No!!!” Before collapsing from exhaustion, her voice trembling and weak, her gaze no longer that of someone who believed she could endure and survive everything. Her hope and spark had dimmed.

Her spirit was beginning to break.

“Get up,” Anna said sharply, releasing her handcuffs.

Dayana dragged herself to stand, her face flushing with shame. She was naked, sweaty, and dirty. Anna grabbed her arm and led her to the adjoining bathroom, a cold, impersonal space, entirely white and reasonably large, with a simple white shower, a white-lidded toilet, white towels, and two white benches. The only different thing there was a large mirror on one of the walls.

As soon as they entered, Anna closed the door behind them and pointed to the center of the room.

“Remove the plug,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the wall with a seductive smile.

Dayana froze. The idea of doing it under Anna’s relentless gaze was mortifying, but she knew she had no choice. Trembling, she brought her hands to the base of the plug, hesitating as shame consumed her.

“What are you waiting for?” Anna asked, a cruel smile curving her lips. “Or do you want me to do it for you?” Dayana knew that would be far worse.

With no alternatives, Dayana brought her hand to the plug and began to pull slowly. Every movement drew a low, involuntary moan as she felt her legs weakening. The sensation was uncomfortable and humiliating; the plug was large and long, requiring effort to remove completely. Her eyes watered, and she tried to avoid Anna’s gaze but felt the weight of her stare like a blade, slicing what dignity remained.

When she finally managed to remove the object, she held it with trembling hands, unsure of what to do.

“Now lick it!” Anna commanded, observing Dayana’s hesitation, almost as if she would resist. For the first time, Anna reconsidered.

“Put it there,” she said, pointing to a shelf next to the mirror. “And don’t forget to clean it later.”

Dayana obeyed, her heart pounding with relief but also with a strange sense of emptiness as the plug left her. While placing it aside, Anna approached, calmly removing her coat and unzipping her tight dress. Dayana instinctively turned away, but Anna was quick to grab her shoulder.

“Don’t turn your back on me. I didn’t tell you to!” she said with a seductively sweet tone. “You’ll stay here and watch. It’s the least you can do after disappointing me so much.”

And so, Dayana was forced to watch as Anna entered the shower, letting the water flow over her body. Anna was the personification of control and calculated perfection. Tall, she had an impeccable posture that exuded authority. Her straight blonde hair, falling just below her shoulders, shone with a radiance that seemed to reflect her confidence. Even naked and exposed in some way, her gaze could strip anyone of their defenses.

Anna, even in the same vulnerable state as Dayana, radiated superiority. She called Dayana over to join her.

“Come,” she said.

Dayana, mesmerized by what she saw, felt something unfamiliar stir within her. She had never been attracted to other women but now felt strangely aroused by the sight of Anna. The water trickled down Anna’s golden, smooth skin, reflecting the room’s white light. Her medium-sized, firm breasts with pink nipples hardened under the warm water, symmetrical and harmonious, moved gracefully as she washed her body with meticulous motions. The water cascaded to her curvy hips and lightly rounded buttocks, sculpted with precision and highlighted by her authoritative posture.

Between her toned thighs, her vulva, lightly covered by blonde hair and perfectly groomed, was an intimate extension of her controlled body—a sensual focal point exuding confidence.

The steam from the shower mingled with the subtle natural perfume of her skin, creating a soft and warm aroma that enveloped the space. The contrast was overwhelming. While Anna seemed the epitome of control and beauty, Dayana felt small, fragile, and insignificant.

“Come here, under the water. It’s warm!” said Anna, addressing Dayana with unusual sweetness.

Dayana heard the words but couldn’t understand. “How can this woman act like this?” she wondered. “She’s done nothing but mistreat me since I arrived here, and now she wants to shower with me? What’s going on?”

Still confused, Dayana obeyed, filled with modesty, wanting to hide her imperfections. Dayana, now naked, was a visceral contrast of vulnerability and natural beauty that still endured despite the marks of her escape, exhaustion, and humiliation. Her light brown skin, soft in some areas, bore the effects of a life dedicated to work and motherhood. Her medium-to-large breasts, with darker pink nipples slightly sagging, exuded a mature and attractive femininity, while her rounded, voluminous buttocks remained one of her most striking features, even with the fatigue evident in her frame.

On the inner side of her right arm, a tattoo of delicate flowers in fine black lines ran down to her wrist, symbolizing a love for nature and a touch of gentleness amid her harsh reality. Along her left ribcage, a cursive phrase read, “Live for what is worth dying for,” a reminder of an ideal she seemed to have lost. On her right thigh, an abstract figure of intertwined wings added a certain depth to her body, while a small geometric triangle on the nape of her neck seemed to carry a profound personal significance, hidden from most.

Her abdomen, slightly protruding, told the story of a woman who had faced daily battles, while her thick, toned thighs, despite a lack of regular exercise, still displayed natural strength. Her shaved vulva glistened, betraying her growing arousal with everything she was experiencing. Each tattoo and curve told a story of struggle, resilience, and now, submission, in a form that blended innate beauty with the marks left by her choices and circumstances.

Each second felt like an eternity, and her mind filled with thoughts. “How did I get here? How can I allow myself to be treated like this?” Yet, at the same time, there was something unsettling within her, a dark, quiet voice whispering, “You wanted this. You asked for this. YOU DESERVE THIS.”

Anna washed her body with slow, deliberate movements, letting the foam slide over her skin. There was something almost hypnotic in her confidence—the way she moved with grace and power, completely at ease in her nudity. The floral-woody scent of the soap mixed with the steam, creating an almost intimate atmosphere between the two.

When she finished, Anna turned to Dayana, who quickly averted her gaze, feeling ashamed. But Anna simply smiled and extended a hand toward her.

“Now it’s your turn. He said to treat you well today; you should be grateful,” Anna said with passive-aggressive sweetness before switching to her usual mocking tone. “If it were up to me, you’d be in trouble.”

Dayana hesitated, but Anna’s unexpected calmness disarmed her. Yet those cruel words felt like a dagger stabbing her while she was defenseless in a duel she had already lost. Even so, she took a step forward, trembling from the suffering that loomed after everything she had endured at Anna’s hands, and stepped under the water.

Anna poured a generous amount of liquid soap into her hands and began lathering Dayana, moving meticulously and attentively. Her hands glided over Dayana’s shoulders, down her arms, and when they reached her breasts, Anna massaged them delicately, spreading the foam while her fingers traced gentle circles.

Dayana held her breath, feeling vulnerable yet unexpectedly aroused. It was the first time another woman had touched her in this way.

“Relax and enjoy it,” Anna murmured, her mouth so close to Dayana’s ear that she could feel her warm breath. “Next time, it might be with a pressure washer and cold water, as you’re used to,” Anna added, her voice laced with a cruel smile, even as her hands continued to descend, exploring Dayana’s curves as if seducing her.

She passed over her hips and thighs, lingering fingers massaging the skin firmly but unhurriedly. Each movement seemed carefully calculated to provoke, keeping Dayana on the edge of embarrassment and arousal.

Finally, Anna slid her hand between Dayana’s legs, washing her vulva, which had been neglected since she arrived, with a mix of delicacy and firmness that made Dayana’s body shiver.

“See? I’m not that bad,” Anna said, smiling slightly as she continued to lather her.

In a sudden motion, Anna plunged three fingers as deeply as she could into Dayana’s vulva, who let out a loud cry as her voice faltered, collapsing into Anna’s arms. Dayana felt violated, invaded. This time was worse than everything that had happened before because she was mentally defenseless—she had let herself go and was unprepared for it.

Anna leaned closer and whispered, “Never forget your place.”

At that moment, it was as if the warm water had melted away the sweet facade Anna had presented in those brief moments, and the steam revealed, once again, her cruel nature. The pain Dayana felt in that moment wasn’t just physical. It also revived a trauma from her past—a rape she had once suffered. And without understanding why, she felt the situation repeating itself. Dayana began to cry, and in that moment, yet another piece of her spirit cracked.

Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, she asked herself, “How can one woman do this to another?” She tried to process what had happened, but her thoughts came like disordered waves, each one heavier than the last, nearly crushing her will.

She felt the warm water on her body, but her mind was frozen. “How did I end up here?” The question echoed in her head, but the answer seemed increasingly distant, lost among impulsive choices and a fantasy she had created. She felt ashamed of her own vulnerability, of how easily she had allowed her body to be explored, of how incapable she felt of reacting.

“Do I deserve this?” she thought, the doubt gnawing at her insides. Even more terrifying was the conflict between her hatred for Anna and the strange admiration she felt for the overwhelming force of that woman. It was a confusion that left her exhausted, shattered, yet strangely dependent on the cruel presence that seemed to be the only constant in her new, distorted reality.

Dayana collapsed onto the bathroom floor, her knees sinking to the ground, her arms limp at her sides. Her head hung low as she stared blankly at the floor, her gaze empty, her mind consumed by chaotic and conflicting thoughts. Her body still trembled from Anna’s touch—a touch that oscillated between care and brutality, like a butcher tenderly stroking an animal destined for slaughter, alternating between caresses and cuts.

Tears flowed freely, like a spring, as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling. “I hate her... don’t I?” The question echoed hollowly in her mind because, deep down, she already knew the answer.

When Anna finished, she turned off the water and grabbed a soft white towel. She dried Dayana carefully, running the fabric over her body sensually, as if it were an extension of her own hands. With every touch, Anna looked at her with piercing blue eyes, a slightly sadistic smile almost permanently etched on her face.

“Now that you’re ‘clean,’” Anna said, “I can finally use you for something useful.”

Anna sat on the bench near the shower, still naked, her legs crossed elegantly. She pulled Dayana toward her, making her crawl across the bathroom floor. She cupped Dayana’s chin, looking at her with a mix of sensuality and expectation.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asked, her voice soft, almost sweet.

Dayana shook her head, avoiding direct eye contact as she murmured, “No...”

Gripping Dayana’s face firmly, Anna said, “Obey and follow my signals.”

With a gentle gesture, Anna spread her legs, exposing her vulva—warm and moist, perfectly groomed, with lips slightly swollen and rosy, partially open as if begging to be touched. Her skin was still damp and warm from the bath. The scent of the soap lingered, but there was a natural warmth that made the moment undeniably intimate. Her clitoris stood out, timid yet inviting, practically demanding attention.

“Come,” said Anna, in a tone almost encouraging, as if teaching something delicate. “Use your tongue. Slowly, or you’ll be punished.”

Dayana hesitated, her heart pounding. Her lips touched the soft lips of Anna’s vulva, and she began to lick tentatively, following the rhythm Anna seemed to dictate with subtle movements of her hips.

“Yes, you slut,” murmured Anna, her eyes half-closing as she guided Dayana with soft touches on her head. “Keep going.”

Dayana, still embarrassed and timid, gradually allowed herself to explore the texture and warmth of Anna’s skin, blending her vulnerability with the strange thrill of being guided in something entirely new. The sensation of submission now carried a different tone—not brutality, but something deeper, a mix of seduction and control that left her even more confused about her own feelings.

Dayana, subdued on the cold bathroom floor, surrendered herself to the new experience, losing her virginity with a woman. As her arousal grew, Anna controlled the rhythm of Dayana’s tongue with movements of her hips. Anna kept the pace slow and steady, savoring Dayana’s effort, who, over time, began showing signs of fatigue.

With a malicious smile, Anna forcefully pressed Dayana’s face against her vulva, her strong thighs imprisoning her. Dayana could only breathe Anna’s scent at that moment—a fragrance exotic and almost sweet. As Dayana suffocated, Anna’s pleasure intensified.

In one final effort, Anna pulled her body against Dayana’s mouth. Anna finally climaxed, her body contracting around Dayana as she squirted into her mouth. Dayana, nearly choking, swallowed as much of the bitter, strong-tasting liquid as she could.

When Anna finally sighed and allowed Dayana to breathe, she wore a satisfied smile. “You need a lot of improvement, but the important thing is that I took your virginity with women,” Anna said.

Anna stood up, picked up the used towels, and began to dress, leaving Dayana kneeling on the floor, her face smeared with Anna’s fluids. Lost in her thoughts, Dayana struggled to process everything that had just happened.

With sarcasm, Anna said, “Go get dressed. I left something appropriate for you in your room,” before walking out.

Dayana remained on the bathroom floor, naked, catching her breath. Though her body was free, her mind was engulfed in a storm of chaos. There was something deeply wrong about how her body and mind reacted to Anna. Even now, in the warmth of the recently finished bath, with the humiliation and trauma still pulsating within her, she couldn’t ignore the strange spark of hope that nestled deep in her soul.

“If I do everything right, if I obey, maybe... maybe she’ll go easy on me.” It was a twisted thought, but comforting nonetheless. Anna was cruel, yes, but there were moments when she seemed almost human, almost caring.

And Dayana, desperate for any semblance of control in her life, clung to that thought.

“I can endure this,” she thought. “For Nick, I can endure.”

But soon, the thought transformed into a question that haunted her more and more: “For how long?”

Dayana tried to convince herself that she was doing it for Nick, but deep down, a part of her knew it wasn’t that simple. There was something broken inside her, something that had been shattered long before she stepped into this place. Anna seemed to have found that fragment and knew exactly how to use it against her.

“She is everything I hate,” she thought, but the next moment, her mind betrayed her: “And everything I want to please.”

The idea that her tormentor might somehow offer relief or approval became a fixed point in her distorted mind, like a beacon in the darkness, even if the beacon was a train speeding toward her.

As the tears continued to fall, Dayana wondered if her life would ever be better, even as she wanted to escape the idea that, somehow, she deserved to be there.

“I never wanted this... or did I?” The doubt gnawed at her, and the weight of her choices seemed unbearable.

Then, in a fleeting moment of strength, Nick’s face appeared in her mind, and she clung to that image, using it as an anchor.

“For him, I can endure. For him, I must endure.”

But deep down, Dayana didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself or merely repeating empty words to fill the growing void inside her.