You wake up, unsure of where you are. Your skin crawls with a cold sweat- you are completely naked, unless you count the various ropes, straps, and- there's something on your mouth. In your mouth, short enough that you're not choking on it but girthy and thick, spreading your jaw so you can barely make a sound that isn't a gasp or a moan. In a futile attempt at freedom you struggle against the bindings, getting a better sense of your situation. Your body is well and truly trussed up, lying on the floor. There's a blindfold over your eyes that leaves you desperate for sensation, some feeling to understand what's happening to you. Your hands are abound behind you arms to elbows, your legs tied together from thighs to calves. You clench your legs together in some attempt at privacy, but there's something holding your knees separate- a spreading bar. You flush miserably. Somebody looking at you right now might be reminded of a pinned butterfly, desperately trying to fly away.

You lay there for what feels like forever, becoming increasingly frantic and then settling down into desperate whimpering and crying. As soon as you settle down somewhat you hear something moving around you, somebody whose footsteps sound heavy and deliberate. You realize that you hadn't heard a door open or close, so you have to assume that this person was here just watching you struggle this whole time. You feel a firm grasp on your sides, picking you up from behind like you weigh close to nothing. You start to flail again, but the bar and the bindings keep you from being very effective. The man- it has to be a man, you think, to lift you so easily, or else a really buff woman and why would a really buff woman bother kidnapping you because really you'd probably just go with her willingly- but your mental rambling halts when you feel something cool against you and you jump again. There's something- poking you. Two somethings. And they're wet and hard and big. And suddenly you are jolted back to the reality- you're tied up and gagged, completely naked, at the mercy of some stranger, and oh god he's pushing you down onto the biggest dildos you've ever felt in your life and you struggle and cry but there's no escaping the feeling of being stretched and filled completely, treated like a toy that only exists for its open holes. You keen as he lets go of you, your body weight enough that you keep sliding down the pre-lubed shafts even as you clench harder and harder because oh god they just keep going, and going, and you feel like they're punching you in the lungs now because you have to take little gasping breaths around the toy in your mouth.

Still focused on not impaling yourself, you barely feel when his hands start fiddling with your ankles and hands. You flinch away, but the dildos keep you anchored to the spot, unable to use your legs to lift yourself up or your arms to push away. He releases your legs, and you kick out- but he catches you quickly, and while you expect pain, or punishment, nothing comes. You know, though, that you'll pay for that later. Steadily he ties you to the chair, your legs up in the air and spread over the arms of the chair like an invitation. Your upper body is secured to the back of the chair, your calves tied down to the arms and legs with no wiggle room. The only thing you have control over is your hips, and when you try to buck, you only get a couple inches of leeway, not nearly enough to remove the thick dildos. The movement itself sends a ripple of pleasure through you in a way that scares you- you don't want this to feel good. This isn't supposed to feel good.

There's a moment of silence. You can't hear the man move, though you're not sure what to expect here. Why is he just...looking at you? Aren't men always looking to stick their dick into something? You don't want to have sex with him, but you were almost expecting it. With all three holes filled, though, how is he supposed to..

And that's where your brain shorts, because he wasn't done, apparently. There's something on your pussy, and he's lifting your labia and the hood and there's something directly on your clit, and you know what that something is very shortly because it starts to vibrate and buzz with a sensation you've never felt before. You want to squirm away, but the jolt in your insides remind you why you can't do that. The buzzing intensifies and suddenly it's all you can think about, bucking your hips into it instead of away, chasing that feeling. You become dimly aware of the sounds leaking out of the gag, a desperate keening that sounds almost animalistic. You want and want and suddenly- there it is. You feel the orgasm build up, your legs tense, and you break as all of your holes clench and it sends a new wave of pleasure over you. You buck your hips, again and again- and suddenly it's too much. The feeling on your clit hasn't stopped despite your orgasm and it's quickly becoming so stimulating that it's almost like pain. Your clit is so sensitive right now that a passing breeze would make you scream in pleasure- and suddenly, though you hardly thought it possible, the vibrations become more intense, a torture so exquisite a small part of the back of your mind says 'yes, this is it, this is what I wanted. This is what I deserve- to be strung up and coming like a whore, like an object, for the rest of my life'. You feel something trickle down your legs and there's no time to think about whether it's sweat or fluid because your next orgasm rips through you so hard that you can't seem to come down. You're coming and coming but you still can't find relief. There's no end to this torture, no graceful down off of the high of climax, so you're stuck with your body tensing and writhing, tears running down your face under the blindfold, head shaking wildly. Trying to escape the neverending orgasm only ends in fucking yourself deeper onto the dildos. You are well and truly trapped.

The man steps out of the room to muffled cries. The gag will keep it quiet while training it for deepthroating. He knows that his bindings are secure, and the dildos on the chair will keep pumping a viscous solution into those holes, simultaneously filling the whore and keeping it wet. Soon, it would be starving for that feeling, and crave cum like an addict. He checks his clock and makes a mental note. Six hours of this is enough to break the strongest of people, and he doubts this bitch will last even that long. He'll come back in four hours, after its mind has been broken into the perfect malleable whore, desperate to be filled, desperate to come. He grins and palms his half-hard cock. He can't wait to test this one out.