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Previous part: Part 17.

My body tensed, expectant, as the air around me seemed to grow heavier. I knew the moment he would pounce on me was coming, but I couldn't predict when or how. The blindfold over my eyes and the tape on my mouth left me completely at his mercy, trapped in a darkness that stretched every second, making the wait interminable. Every small sound resonated like thunder in my ears, my breathing quickened with each step I felt nearby, and the silence, when it came, was even more unbearable. I couldn't see, I couldn't speak, I could only wait...

Suddenly, his weight fell upon me with unexpected brutality, tearing a muffled scream from me that died behind the tape. I tried to resist instinctively, but the bindings on my wrists rendered my efforts useless. My legs were firmly parted, his strength and determination erasing any possibility of opposition.

And then I felt it, plunging into me without mercy, filling me in a single movement. A gasp escaped my throat as my body arched completely, caught between pleasure and pain. His hands gripped me tightly, fingers digging into my skin as he adjusted my hips to fit perfectly under his relentless rhythm.

With each thrust, he took me further from any coherent thought. His arms slid under my legs, lifting me effortlessly as he leaned his body over mine. His warm breath burned my neck, his lips barely brushing my skin, and I could do nothing but moan against the tape that silenced my cries. My legs trembled erratically in the air, following the wild rhythm he imposed, each movement marking me, claiming me completely.

The way he used me, his body forcing my hips to rise so he could fuck me more deeply, God... If it weren't for the tape on my mouth, I'd be moaning like crazy out loud, my moans echoing throughout the room. I couldn't think of anything but the brutal and savage way he was using me and how much... I loved it, that feeling of being helpless before him, unable to defend myself, completely at his mercy, at his feet.

I moaned loudly against the tape when he thrust powerfully; I could feel every inch of him sinking deeply inside me. My body grew wetter to receive him, while a searing heat spread across my face. The sound of my heart hammered in my ears, my skin prickling at the touch, and an electric tingling coursed down my spine, trapping me in consuming pleasure.

My breathing became more erratic, gasping for air as I drowned in pleasure. Every brush of his body against mine felt more intense, as if my skin were on fire. With each thrust, my muscles tensed more, contracting with uncontrollable force, dragging me closer to the edge. It was impossible to think of anything but him entering and exiting me, his warm breath, increasingly frantic, brushing my ear.

I couldn't hold on any longer. A scream caught in my throat as pleasure tore through me from within, overwhelming me completely. I came violently, my body shuddering under his wild and relentless rhythm. I could hear his breathing, increasingly frantic and uncontrolled, brushing my ear, until a rough moan escaped his throat, that sound that drove me crazy. His thrusts became even more desperate; I could feel it, his cock writhing inside me, drawing another muffled moan from me just before he exploded, spilling deeply within me.

The master remained over me, his weight crushing me, as he panted heavily, his breathing as labored as mine. My body trembled beneath him, every muscle throbbing with exhaustion, my lungs struggling for air through the tape still covering my mouth. The blindfold stayed firmly over my eyes, plunging me into a darkness that made everything even more intense: the sound of his breathing, the comforting warmth emanating from his body, and the echo of my own racing heart pounding in my ears.

Finally, I felt his weight and warmth withdraw from me. The absence of his body left an immediate void, as if the only thing keeping me anchored had vanished. My body, exhausted and weak, barely responded. I was in pieces, reduced to nothing more than an uncontrollable tremor and broken, ragged breaths, stifled by the gag. The ensuing silence was deafening, broken only by the soft sounds of him dressing and the sensation of his semen sliding out of my pussy.

I wanted to move, say something, beg him to stay and hold me, but I couldn't and shouldn't. I was just a panting puddle, strengthless, lying on the mattress as he prepared to leave.

I heard the wrenching sound of his boots disappearing up the stairs. I tried to convince myself that I had to endure, that this was a test I had to pass. I clung to that thought for a while until, exhausted, fatigue overcame me, and I fell asleep.

I was awakened by a familiar sensation, the soft, warm touch of a hand caressing my face. Even before hearing her, I knew it was Haley. There was something unmistakable in her way of touching, in the calm she seemed to convey.

"Oh, you're awake. The master sent me to feed you," she said, her voice clear and calm, as she took my hand to help me sit up. I appreciated her touch, firm yet gentle, guiding me to rest my back against the wall. I felt my muscles protest at the effort, reminding me of the fatigue still weighing on me.

With careful movements, Haley began to remove the tape covering my mouth. The relief was immediate as the pressure disappeared, and I took a deep breath, feeling my lungs fill completely. I moved my lips, trying to dispel the numbness the tape had left behind.

"Remember, don't speak," she reminded me seriously. I nodded silently, shaking off sleep and feeling as if a truck had run over me. My muscles were numb, and every part of my body felt heavy, as if my energy had been drained.

"Drink this," she continued, bringing a bottle of water to my lips. The cold liquid was immediate relief for my dry throat. I drank eagerly but coughed at first, clumsy in my need. Haley withdrew the bottle for a moment, allowing me to breathe before offering it again. This time, I drank more slowly, letting the water quench my thirst and restore some life to my body.

"That's better," she murmured softly. I heard her open something that sounded like a container. "Eat, this will help; it's chicken salad," she said, placing the fork at my lips. I opened my mouth, and without a word, accepted the first bite she offered. The taste was simple, but Haley always knew how to make something simple truly good. The flavor awakened my senses, gradually restoring my energy.

Haley was incredibly patient while she fed me, almost as if it was something she genuinely enjoyed doing. I simply followed her pace, savoring each bite, letting the small routine distract me from my exhaustion. Haley’s silent presence was comforting, even in the heavy quiet of the basement.

I finished the chicken salad, and Haley offered me more water. I accepted it, but soon a pressing issue arose—I needed to use the bathroom. Not wanting to risk an accident, I began shifting my legs, crossing and uncrossing them, hoping she would catch on to the hint.

The thought of Haley trying to decipher my movements amused me. “Do you want me to touch you?” she asked softly, her tone a mix of confusion and curiosity.

I quickly shook my head, trying to gesture downward insistently.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” she finally asked.

Relieved, I nodded.

Haley helped me to my feet and guided me to the bathroom in the basement. Embarrassment surged through me when I realized she’d have to support me while I relieved myself. The sound of water trickling filled the uncomfortable silence, amplifying the awkwardness of the moment. My face burned with shame, and though I couldn’t see her, I knew she must have felt just as uncomfortable.

When I was done, she helped me stand again. I thought the moment couldn’t get any more humiliating until I heard the soft rustling of toilet paper being unrolled. My chest tightened as I realized what that meant—she was going to clean me.

The heat in my face intensified, feeling like I might combust from sheer embarrassment. I squeezed my eyes shut beneath the blindfold, wishing I were anywhere else, as I felt her fingers through the rough paper. A shiver ran down my spine—a mix of discomfort and vulnerability made the moment stretch endlessly.

When she finished, I heard her quickly toss the paper into the toilet, as though eager to end the ordeal. She helped me up again, her grip firm but gentle. My face remained flushed, and the weight of the awkwardness seemed to grow with every second.

I wanted to thank her, apologize, or say something—anything—but even though the tape was no longer on my mouth, I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak. Even if the Master wasn’t around to hear me, breaking that rule felt like an unforgivable act of disobedience. It might seem foolish, but staying silent felt like holding on to my worthiness in his eyes.

Haley seemed to understand. Her soft voice broke the silence.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to thank me,” she whispered in a soothing tone.

Carefully, she guided me back to the mattress, positioning me so my back rested against the wall. She gently reapplied the tape over my mouth before stepping back.

“I have to go. The Master told me not to take too long,” she said as I heard her pick something up from the floor, likely the container she’d brought.

Just as I thought she would leave without another word, I felt her lean in close. Her perfume was faint, barely there, but the warmth of her presence made me hold my breath. Before I could react, her lips brushed my forehead in an unexpectedly tender gesture.

“Don’t give up, Caroline,” Haley whispered softly. Before I could process her words of encouragement, I heard her footsteps retreating. The echo of her steps bounced off the basement walls as she ascended the stairs, leaving me alone in the dimness.

I knew where she was going; I could imagine her moving gracefully upstairs, in that bright space I’d only seen once. That memory still haunted me.

It had been a singular day, an unexpected gift from the Master. He had allowed me to dine with them at the main table. I could still recall the warmth of that place, the soft light streaming through the windows, and the aroma of the home-cooked meal Haley had prepared. I remembered every flavor vividly, especially Haley’s gentle laughter. That night, I had felt almost normal, almost like I belonged. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in the orphanage or on the streets.

Since then, I had dreamt of the day I might leave the basement, of waking up beside the Master every day, belonging to him in a fuller way. I would thank him every day for saving my life and taking me off the streets.

I clung to that memory, letting it wrap around me, giving me strength. It was a reminder of why I couldn’t give up, of what awaited me if I endured this. My mind wandered further, seeking lighter thoughts. I wondered how I could repay Haley for her kindness. Having her as an ally was a relief; from the moment I arrived here, she had done nothing but help me and offer her friendship.

I stayed there, leaning against the wall, letting my body try to recover while my mind remained in a state of anxious vigilance, waiting for the Master’s return. But time dragged on, and each passing minute felt like the clock had stopped. The darkness seemed heavier, the silence colder. I was sure it was already late—maybe around dinnertime—though down here, where time blurred, everything was uncertain.

Despite the cold, I felt a bit better, clinging to my determination, reminding myself over and over why I was doing this. The silence was dense, almost tangible, until a sound abruptly shattered it—a sound so unexpected it made me hold my breath. My body tensed as I recognized it: the unmistakable echo of his boots descending the stairs, slowly.

My breathing turned erratic, syncing with the rapid thudding of my heart, each step making me tremble. I wondered how it was possible for the Master to still have the energy to use me again. That hateful voice in my head resurfaced, telling me to escape, but I shoved it aside forcefully, ignoring it. I hadn’t heard it in weeks, but today it was particularly insistent.

My muscles protested with exhaustion, but my pussy grew wet as I sensed his presence, reminding me of my duty—my purpose. I prepared myself, accepting what was to come. Despite the fatigue, my body knew what it had to do. I was his. Always his. Forever and completely his.