Rachael’s Abduction
by Wicked’s Pet

Part 1


The mall was fairly busy when Rachael strolled in. It was Friday afternoon, and school had just let out for spring break. She wasn’t sure what she was shopping for; it just felt good to get away from classes and indulge in a little “me” time. She strolled down the walkway, checking out the various window displays. She didn’t notice the figure about 20 yards behind, following her every move.

Rachael was a college freshman; a liberal arts major at the local university. In other words, she hadn’t really decided what to do with her life at this point. She lived in a dorm room with another roommate, Cheryl, who had just left for Fort Lauderdale for spring break. Cheryl had invited Rachael to come with her, but Rachael wasn’t into the party atmosphere of Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale.

At the age of 19, Rachael was in good shape: long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, blue eyes, perky, size 34B breasts, and long legs. She had a sort of willowy quality; slender, without looking too skinny at five-foot six inches tall. She had dated a few boys since she turned 17, but only a couple had developed into serious relationships. She had had sex about a half-dozen times; but none she could classify as a mind-blowing experience.

Wearing an above-the-knee skirt and a stylish silky blouse, she was the object of many a man’s leering stare as she walked, high heels tapping a brisk cadence, through the mall. One man in particular, however, was watching her much more intently than the rest. He continued to follow her discreetly as she continued down the walkway. Bradley Huntington III was a freshman at the same college. He was a pre-med student, and was in the same English class as Rachael.

Brad didn’t care much for college, he was just there to assuage his parents so they would stop nagging him to do something with his life. His father was a prominent surgeon, and had amassed a sizeable fortune by inventing and patenting a life-saving medical device. Brad had taken a couple of years off after graduating high school to “find himself” before attending college. He traveled around the world, partying in various cities and getting a different kind of education, visiting numerous adult venues and brothels. It had been just a delaying tactic, which he eventually found he could no longer employ convincingly with his parents. His father finally issued an ultimatum: either go to college and choose a career or he would be cut off financially.

So, at the age of 20, he enrolled at the university, choosing the career he felt would most impress his father, but more importantly, it would keep the money train going in order to fund his extravagant lifestyle. Brad liked to live on the edge; he had a hot red Ferrari that he loved to take out on the highway and blow past other cars at 120 MPH just for fun. He loved the challenge of outrunning police cars when they chased him, he only got caught once. One night he was screaming down the highway, flashing blue lights becoming a distant image in his rear-view mirror, when all of a sudden, he saw multiple brake lights ahead – traffic was stopped because of a serious accident further down the road. Thinking quickly, he darted to the right, entering the breakdown lane. As he got nearer to the scene of the accident, he saw a State Trooper’s car dead ahead, parked in the breakdown lane. Out of options, he screeched to a halt. Within seconds, the pursuing police car pulled up just behind him, boxing him in. He was arrested and booked at the local police station. Daddy was understandably not happy to come down and bail Brad out of jail. After a long talk, Brad promised to behave himself. His father decided to take the car away, and gave Brad a BMW in its place, figuring it would be safer in the long run.

Rachael wandered into the food court, and decided to get something to eat. After waiting in line, she gave her order at the counter of one of the food vendors. After getting her order, she walked over to an empty table and sat down to eat. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone approaching somewhat tentatively, carrying a food tray, as though he was going to speak to her. “Excuse me, don’t I know you?” he asked, in a friendly and non-threating tone.

Looking up, she saw a good looking man, well dressed and in fairly good shape, but not anyone she might know. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think so” she replied, looking back down at her meal. She figured he was just another guy trying to pick her up.

“I think we have the same English class – Mr. Easton, right?” he replied. She looked up again, studying his face. “Yes, I have that class – you too?”

“Yeah, I was the one who convinced him to delay giving us that big test until after Spring Break.”

Thinking about it for a minute, her eyes got wider for a second. “Oh yeah, I remember – that was you?”

“You’re welcome,” he said with smile and a wink.

“Would you like to sit here, or are you with someone else?” she asked, out of politeness, gesturing to an empty seat across from her.

“Nope, I’m all alone today, and I appreciate the offer,” he said, sliding into the chair. “I’m Brad.”

“I’m Rachael,” she replied.

They continued to chat while they ate. She told him how she was staying in town next week while most of her classmates were headed to Florida to party. “Are you headed out of town, too?” she asked.

“Nah, I don’t care much for that scene, either,” he replied. “Hey, what are you doing tonight? Maybe we could do dinner, or something?” he asked, as they finished their meal.

Rachael paused. He was handsome enough, but there was something a little too slick about him. He was pouring on the charm, and she was a little wary of him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m seeing someone,” she lied.

A frown seemed to flicker briefly across his face before he recovered and forced a smile. “Are you sure? I know a nice steak house where the maître d knows me on a first name basis. We can get a nice private table and have a fabulous meal!”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested” she replied, looking him in the eye.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said “Ok, no problem, I understand. No harm, no foul. Have a nice evening,” he said with a smile. Grabbing his tray, he got up and walked away. 'Guess it’s time for plan B,' he thought. He had planned for this eventuality, and was well prepared. Brad had been spoiled throughout his life, given everything and denied nothing. He wasn’t about to let this slut blow him off!

Rachael finished her meal and disposed of her trash. She decided to do a little more shopping before heading back to the dorm. She bought a pair of shoes that she just adored, and found a couple of blouses that would complement her wardrobe. A few minutes’ time perusing the books in the bookstore netted her a good novel to curl up with next week. After a couple of hours, her aching feet decided that she’d had enough for one day. Heading out to the parking lot, she found her car and got in. As she drove out of the mall parking lot, she didn’t notice as a blue BMW sedan pulled out behind her.

The mall was located about 10 miles from the university, but Rachael knew a shortcut through a sparsely populated, wooded area. As she drove along, she noticed that the front left corner of the car was riding low, and the handling around corners became sloppy. As she slowed down, she could tell that the front tire was low. She didn’t really want to stop, as she could only see woods in both directions. 'Maybe I can make it a little further until I find a house or gas station,' she thought, driving very slowly.

Eventually, she could hear the flapping of the tire and the grinding of the rim as it ground into the asphalt surface. Resignedly, she knew she couldn’t go any further and decided to stop. Pulling over to the shoulder, she stopped the car and got out to inspect the damage. Sure enough, the tire was flat as a pancake. 'Shit,' she thought, 'I’ve never changed a tire, I don’t even know where to start!' She opened the trunk and looked around for something that resembled a tire changing tool. Lifting the carpet liner, she spotted the jack and tire wrench and spun the wingnut to remove them.

“Who am I kidding? I’ve got no idea how to do this!" she told herself. Reaching into her car, she retrieved her cell phone and turned it on. NO SERVICE, the display read. 'Just Great - guess I’d better start walking and see if I can get help somewhere,' she thought as she closed the trunk. She opened the passenger door and grabbed her keys, locking the doors behind her. Looking both ways, she tried to guess which direction would be a shorter walk to get help. Trying to remember the terrain from her earlier drive to the mall, she thought she remembered a couple of homes just down the road in the direction she had been driving.

The sun had gone down recently, and it was now dusk. She began walking at a brisk pace, not wishing to be out alone on a deserted road in the dark. As she was walking, she heard a car approaching from behind. As it got closer, its headlights cast her shadow on the road ahead. The car slowed and came to a stop as it pulled alongside her. The passenger side window rolled down. “Need a lift?” the driver asked.

Rachael squinted, peering into the car at the driver. His voice sounded somewhat familiar.

“Rachael? Hey, it’s me, Brad! What’re you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Brad? she replied, now recognizing him. “I got a flat tire back there.”

“I saw a car back there, and the tire was shredded!” he said. “I’d like to help you change it, but it’s getting dark, and I don’t have a flashlight. Why don’t I give you a ride somewhere? It’s a Friday night, and you won’t find a service center open right now.”

Rachael considered her options: continue walking down a dark and deserted road, alone and vulnerable, or hitch a ride with Brad, whom she only knew casually, and could be an axe murderer, for all she knew. She gave him another look. He certainly didn’t look like an axe murderer, he was well dressed, well groomed, and had a nice car. 'Oh well, I guess I’ll give it a try,' she thought.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

“Not a problem; I’m headed this way anyway,” he said with a smile.

Opening the passenger door, she climbed in. “Thank you so much; if you drive a little bit further, I can hopefully get a cell phone signal and call someone.”

“Nonsense; I can take you anywhere you want to go!”

She settled in to the seat, fastening the seat belt around her. As the car began to move forward, she jumped when she heard a distinct “click” as the door locks automatically engaged. “That’s just the automatic door locks, nothing to be alarmed about,” he reassured.

Letting out a breath, she relaxed a bit, privately chiding herself for her skittishness. As they drove on, an awkward silence pervaded the vehicle. As they entered a residential area, she checked her cell phone, noting that she now had a weak signal.

“Are you living at the dorm? I can take you there, if you’d like,” he asked quickly.

“Sure, that would be great,” she replied, putting her phone away.

“No problem, I just need to swing by the house to let my dog out,” he said. “She’s been inside all day, and I don’t want her to have an accident in the house.”

“You live at home?”

“Kind of,” he replied, “it’s my parent’s lake house. I’m staying there while I’m going to school.”

“What kind of dog do you have?” she asked, conversationally.

“Molly’s a golden retriever”, he answered. “Sweetest dog you ever met. Would you like to meet her?”

“I guess so,” she said, a little worried now. “I just don’t want to get back to the dorm too late.”

“No problem, I’ll have you back in a jiffy,” he said with a smile.

After a couple of turns and a drive through another wooded area, the BMW pulled into a semi-circular driveway, coming to a stop in front of an impressive cabin. It was a log home, and an impressive one, at that. Large arched windows framed by walls lined with a stone veneer. The house was surrounded by woods, and was barely visible from the street.

Exiting the car, Brad said “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Molly!” as he closed his door.

Rachael grasped the buckle of her seat belt and tried to unfasten it. It wouldn’t unlock. Brad came around to her side of the car, and as he opened the door he noticed that she was having trouble with the belt.

“How do you unlock this seatbelt?” she asked. “It won’t open!”

“That’s strange,” he replied, “I’ve never had trouble with it before! Here, let me try it.” He reached in and tried to unlock the belt, without success. “Wow, it’s really stuck or something.” He looked up suddenly, as if he just had an idea. “Let me go into the house and get some tools. Maybe I can get it loose.” He jogged toward the front door. Rachael tried to remain calm as she waited for Brad to return, trying to reassure herself that this was not a setup, just a mechanical malfunction. Brad came back with a small tool box.

Reaching into the car again, he tried once more to release the buckle. “Damn thing’s gotta be jammed,” he commented, yanking on the buckle a couple of times. “Guess I’ll have to unbolt it from the back.”

He opened the rear passenger door, entered the rear passenger compartment, set the tool box down on the seat, and opened it. Taking a small plastic bottle and a handkerchief out of the box, he squeezed some liquid from the bottle onto the handkerchief. Acting quickly, he reached around each side of the front bucket seat with both arms and clamped the cloth over Rachael's nose and mouth.

Taken by surprise, Rachael clawed at the hands pressing her head back against the headrest. A sickly sweet smell entered her nose and mouth. She tried to hold her breath, but with her adrenaline pumping and her frantic struggling, her lungs screamed for oxygen. She scrabbled around with her left hand, trying to find something, anything, to use as a weapon. Brad held on tightly, knowing it was only a matter of a few more seconds.

Ultimately, her lungs won the argument and she sucked in a breath desperately, her struggles subsided, and her vision slowly faded to black. After Rachael slumped in her seat, Brad went back around to her door, reached in with a small metal pin, and inserted it into a small hole in the side of the modified seat buckle, unlocking it.


Brad had had a few girlfriends in the past; each relationship had only lasted one or two dates. He had a poor attitude toward women, he basically treated them like crap. He figured if he was spending time and money on a woman, that gave him the right to treat her as a possession. He was, at first, charming and affable when talking up a prospective date.

He had taken his last date out for an expensive meal, then out to a club for drinks. After exiting the club, they got into his car. They exchanged a kiss, during which he started to get friendly with his hands. She tried to push his hands away, but he was too strong, and, maintaining a lip lock on her mouth, started to rip open her blouse. She struggled to push him off, but he was relentless. Now, his hand had slipped her bra off and covered her right breast, mauling and squeezing it painfully.

She eventually stopped struggling, giving him the impression she had surrendered. She had her hand in her purse, reaching for something. He had just started to pull at the top of her skirt when his world exploded. Her Taser fired an electrical current into his lower back, causing him to arch away from her. She followed up with an elbow to his face, causing his nose to bleed profusely.

She jumped out of the car and ran up to the bouncer at the club, who happened to be an off-duty cop. Brad was arrested and charged with assault and attempted rape. He spent the weekend in jail before Daddy bailed him out. He swore to his father that he had been drunk, and would never behave like that normally. Brad’s father gave him a stern lecture about responsibility, and warned him that he now had two strikes; one more and he would be cut off financially.

Brad’s father, not wanting the publicity, made a quick settlement offer of ten thousand dollars to the girl in exchange for her silence. She reluctantly accepted, and recanted her statement to the police. Brad kept a low profile after that, not wanting to risk another arrest. He spent a lot of time on the Internet, browsing porn sites. He had developed an interest in BDSM, especially male dominant/female submissive sites. He spent hours watching female domination videos. As he surfed from site to site, a plan began to take form in his mind.

He came across a website called SlaveMaster.com, which carried a vast assortment of high-end sex toys, restraints, and dungeon furniture. Over time, he ordered enough items to outfit his own dungeon, which he set up in the walk-out basement of the lake house. He had taken up the carpeting and all the furnishings to create his own version of a dungeon. He wasn’t worried about his parents finding it, since his parents never came out to the lake house anymore; they had essentially given it to Brad, preferring to let him live away from them.


The veil of darkness lifted slowly from the prone figure. Her body shifted, and as it did, she could feel a rough concrete floor beneath her. It seemed that she could feel the cold concrete along the entire length of her body. It suddenly occurred to her that she was naked. She sat up suddenly, the action accompanied by the clink of chain. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was indeed naked, and there seemed to be a weight hanging from her neck. It was a chain, padlocked around her neck. Her eyes followed the chain, some six feet in length, to a support post, where it was wrapped around and padlocked.

Her eyes darted around, trying to ascertain where she was, while her mind tried to make sense of her predicament. Along one wall, she could see floor-to-ceiling windows and a sliding door. The darkness outside the windows told her it was still night time.

The room was dimly illuminated by a couple of burning candle sconces hung on the opposite wall. It gave a sort of medieval effect to the room. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she began to make out other items in the room. Along the same wall, various whips and floggers were hung, along with other implements she didn’t recognize. There were odd pieces of furniture in the room, viewed mostly in silhouette. A large ”X” shaped cross was mounted on an adjacent wall. A low padded bench of some kind sat nearby. Another piece of furniture looked like a workman’s sawhorse. An armoire sat against the opposite wall.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a match being struck behind her. She whirled around, an arm crossing over her breasts and the other hand covering her pussy. A lone figure, sitting in a large wooden chair, was lighting a candle and placing it on an adjacent table. “Who are you? Where am I?” she called out. As the candlelight’s glow reached his face, she recognized him. “Brad? Is that you? What the fuck is going on?” she demanded, her anger building. She began to yank at the chain, trying to break it free from the post. It all started coming back to her: the stuck seat belt, his hands coming around, the chemical soaked handkerchief…

“LET ME OUT OF HERE!!” she screamed, tugging on the chain with all her might.

Brad sat there, silently observing his captive, letting her vent. She kept on screaming and yanking on the chain for a good ten minutes before she collapsed in exhaustion, weeping. Finally, he spoke, calmly. “My name is no longer Brad to you, it’s Master. And you are no longer Rachael; you will now be forever known as 'slave'. If I ever have to remind you of this, you will be punished,” he said matter-of-factly.

She looked up at him through tear-soaked eyes. “Brad, what are you talking about...“

In a flash, he was up and strode over to her, slashing down on her thigh with a riding crop. Rachael screamed, grabbing her smarting thigh with her hand. “That was your first correction; any further mistakes will be dealt with much more severely. Understood?” he said sharply.

“Yes,” she murmured, clearly beaten. Another slash of the crop caught her on the breast.

“Yes what?” he demanded.

Grasping her breast in pain, it took her addled brain a moment to process what he had asked. “Yes, Master?” she said, warily, cowering in fear.

“You got it, bitch! Next time you won’t forget, will you?”

“No... Master,” she replied, still coming to grips with the situation.

“Your life, as you know it, is over. From now on, you live only to serve and please me. Understood?” He underscored his remarks by lifting her chin with the end of his crop.

“Yes.. Master,” she whispered. She still couldn’t believe what was happening, but she knew she had to go along for now, until she could find a way to escape. Thinking quickly, she asked to use a bathroom, thinking he would unchain her from the post.

He took a couple of steps away, and pushed a bucket across the floor toward her with his foot. “This is your bathroom until you earn privileges” he stated. With that, he went over to the candle sconces, blowing them out, then crossed the room to his chair. With a final glance over in her direction, he blew out the remaining candle and walked up the stairs.

Plunged into darkness, Rachael slumped down on the floor in despair. She tried once more to break her chain’s hold on the post, with no success. The padlock holding the chain around her neck was equally unbreakable. There was nothing she could to but lie there. She was awake most of the night, sleeping in fits and starts. Eventually, she broke down and used the bucket, holding her nose in disgust.

Dawn eventually arrived, throwing a dim light through the large windows and sliding door leading to the outside. Rachael began to make out the landscape outside the basement. Just outside the windows sat a circular flagstone patio, about 60 feet in diameter. The circle was surrounded by four foot high stone walls with a pass-through opening on the far side.

In the center of the patio, a rectangular shape sat on the flagstone pavement. It looked to be about four feet long by three feet wide and about four feet tall. It was covered by a tarp. A strange looking structure, similar in size and shape to a fire hydrant (without the hose connectors), stood nearby. As the daylight grew brighter, she could make out what looked to be a cage under the tarp. Beyond the yard, through the opening in the wall, a shining lake was barely visible through a small copse of trees. She watched as the sun rose slowly over the tree line on the far side of the lake.


Rachael tugged on her chain for the millionth time; it was as solid as the last 999,999 times she had tried it. As she hung her head in despair, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Brad swaggered down the stairs, dressed quite differently than he had dressed yesterday. He wore a black leather vest over his bare chest, black leather pants, and calf-height lace-up black boots.

“Good morning, slave; today begins your first day of training,” he announced, walking over to the wall where all the implements were hung, selecting one. Rachael looked up at him from the floor, thinking that maybe she could reason with him. “Brad, pleas-“

CRACK! A shock exploded in her left breast as the cattle prod touched it. Rachael tried to scream, but nothing came out. She curled up into a fetal ball, holding her breast and rocking back and forth. “Apparently you are too stupid to learn, cunt!” he shouted. “That was your FIRST lesson! MASTER! You will call me MASTER! Nothing else!” He punctuated this by threatening her with the prod. She shrank back, cowering in fear.

“What is my name?” he demanded, holding the cattle prod toward her, following her as she crawled away from him until she reached the end of her tether.

“M-MASTER! Your name is MASTER!” she cried, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Damn right, bitch, and don’t you forget it!” he replied. “Now get your ass over here and show your devotion!” he ordered.

Confused, she crawled over to him and stopped when she reached his feet. She noticed his right foot was tapping the floor. “M-Master?” she asked, hesitantly, not knowing what he wanted.

“My boots, stupid, clean my boots!” he demanded. Rachael looked fervently around for a cloth or something to polish his boots. “With – your - tongue, slave, with – your - tongue!” he said, through clenched teeth. Rachael started to look up at him, trying to comprehend his order, but she saw the cattle prod hovering near her, and wisely reconsidered. Swallowing, she bent her head down and stuck out her tongue, tentatively touching it to a boot. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste as bad as she’d imagined – actually there was hardly any taste at all. She started to take tiny licks with the tip of her tongue, hoping to minimize contact.

Suddenly, she felt the twin points of the cattle prod pressing into her back, but not energized. “I’d better see some enthusiasm here, or I can always provide some encouragement,” he warned.

Duly motivated, Rachael applied the flat of her tongue and dragged it across the top of his boot where it covered his foot with a renewed fervor. Except for the occasional grit particle or dust, the boot was unsoiled. 'Thank god it’s fairly clean,' she thought.

She worked her way around the foot, then started up the calf. When she finished, she switched over to the other boot, giving it the same treatment. When both boots were done, she sat back on her haunches, head down, hoping he was satisfied. Brad stepped over to the support post and turned his back on Rachael. “You missed a spot,” he said, sarcastically. Holding on to the post, he raised his right boot, offering the sole to his slave. Rachael looked up at him, aghast. She had just humiliated herself, licking his boots, and now he expected her to lick his filthy soles?

The memory of the pain caused by the cattle prod was still fresh in her mind. She would do anything to avoid another shock like that. She leaned forward and began licking the sole. There was more dirt and grit there, but Rachael pushed back her disgust and kept going. Once the other sole was cleaned to Brad’s satisfaction, he lowered his foot and turned around, regarding her.

“Your training begins now, slave, and I really hope you fuck up, so I can punish you, not that I need an excuse,” he announced. He proceeded to teach her some basic slave positions, like 'Attention', standing with legs apart and hands behind the head; 'Present', same position as Attention, but kneeling; and “Submit”, kneeling with knees apart, bent over, head down and arms extended in front on the floor.

He had switched to the crop for this exercise; he didn’t want to shock her into unconsciousness. He used it frequently to move her limbs into proper position or simply to provide a sharp correction. The training lasted for about an hour as he made her practice each position repeatedly until he was satisfied. He had intended to be patient, and stick with 'the program', a general plan he had to slowly condition his slave until she begged him to fuck her, but he had a painful erection trying to burst through his pants. The sight of a naked, chained slave at his feet was too tempting.

“PRESENT!” he commanded. She dutifully got up on her knees, hands behind her head, thinking this was another training exercise. “Take it out!” he ordered, pointing to his crotch. She hesitated only a second, before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants with trembling hands. She pulled his pants down to his boots, revealing his boxers. Placing her fingers gingerly under the waistband of his shorts, she slowly pulled them down to join his pants. As the boxers slid down, his erect cock sprang out and almost hit her in the face. It was an average length; about 6 or 7 inches long, but it was fat, at about 2 inches in diameter. The tip was glistening in pre-cum, and the veined shaft looked menacing, pointing straight at her.

Rachael could guess what was coming next, but she placed her hands back behind her head and resumed the “Present” position, waiting for his order, hoping to stall him for just a few more seconds.

“SUCK IT, BITCH!” he snarled, grabbing the back of her head and pulling it toward his waiting cock. She quickly opened her mouth, partly out of shock, as his cock rammed its way in. “If I feel one tooth, I promise you I will stick that cattle prod up your cunt and press the button until either you or the battery goes dead!” he warned.

Rachel had given a couple of blowjobs in the past, but only as an obligatory gesture, and she certainly never gave deep throat or swallowed. At this point, the risk of Brad following through on his threat was enough to motivate her to do whatever it took to please him. Grabbing his hips for support, she wrapped her soft lips around his fat cock and began to bob her head up and down on it, tears streaming down her face. As she continued, she tried to remember what her previous lovers liked, using her tongue on the underside of the head and swirling it around. Brad moaned in pleasure, keeping one hand on the back of her head, controlling the depth and speed of her sucking.

Her chain tether rattled as her head continued to slide up and down on his cock; Brad increasing the speed as he got closer to orgasm. He began to press harder on her head, trying to force it down her throat. Rachael gagged and pushed back, trying to get her mouth off of his cock. Immediately, she felt the sting of his crop on her ass.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, cunt,” he snarled, holding her head in place.

Again, she felt him pressing his cock against the entrance of her throat. She couldn’t control her gag reflex, and choked as the cock began to force its way in. He relented and allowed her to back off, just enough for her to regain control. After a few more attempts, he decided she would need more practice before she could take him down her throat. He had already purchased an item that would assist in her training, but that would come later today. He decided that it was time to take her pussy for a test drive.

“SUBMIT”! he commanded, allowing her to withdraw from his turgid cock. As Rachael assumed the position, kneeling forward with her ass up in the air, arms in front on the floor, he stepped in between her legs and knelt down. Rachael waited, fearing the worst. She wasn’t a virgin, but she had only had intercourse a few times. She knew better than to refuse; it would be a losing battle.

Her wait lasted only seconds.

Suddenly, he thrust into her, not caring if she was lubricated or not. She gasped in pain as he bottomed out against her ass. He began pistoning in and out, eliciting grunts from his slave. He began to pick up speed as he got closer and closer to orgasm. Grabbing her neck chain and wrapping it around his right hand, he pulled back on it, forcing her head back and hauling her up on all fours, arching her back. Grabbing her hip with his free hand, he rode her like a stallion, crying out as he shot his seed deep into her pussy. The chain bit into Rachael’s neck as she tried to hold her position without choking.


Once his spasms subsided, he collapsed on top of her, wrapping his arms around her torso, cupping her breasts, moaning. In all the times he had masturbated, thinking about a scenario like this, he had never come this hard as he had just now. It was fucking fantastic. Pulling out of her at last, he ordered her to turn around. When she complied, he ordered her to clean him off. “Take it into your mouth, and clean it good, bitch,” he ordered. At this point, defeated and fatigued, Rachael just wanted to get this over with and hopefully be allowed to rest. She placed her lips around his half-hard cock and began to suck and slide down the shaft.

“Get my balls, too, cunt,” he said. With his instruction, she began to lick his hairy balls, then gently sucked each one into her mouth to assure a thorough job. When he was satisfied, he issued the 'Present' command, standing in front of her as she knelt upright, arms behind her head. “You are probably thirsty by now, slave. Beg me for a drink,” he ordered.

Ignoring her annoyance at having to beg for even a simple drink of water, she asked, “Please Master, may I have something to drink?”

He stepped forward, and pressed her lips once again to his cock. “Take it in your mouth, slave,” he commanded.

Eyeing him warily, Rachael sucked his now flaccid cock into her mouth, keeping her hands behind her head, not wanting to believe what seemed to be happening. It took him a few seconds, but all of a sudden a shot of hot piss entered her mouth. She jumped, startled, but managed to keep her lips locked around his cock.

“Spill one drop of this, and you’ll go thirsty for the rest of the day,” he warned. Rachael fought to keep from gagging, and managed to swallow the first shot. As he relaxed, the flow began again, a little faster this time. She struggled to keep up, swallowing as fast as she could, pushing back her revulsion, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. A couple of drops escaped past her lips and dribbled down her chin, but he decided to ignore it. “You already missed breakfast today, when I shot it into your cunt instead of down your throat,” he commented, smirking. She shuddered in revulsion at the mental image.

When he was finished, he withdrew from her mouth, staying close to her face, and shook off the last few drops, landing on her face and breasts. Looking down at her pussy, he noticed some of his cum leaking out. “Well, looks like you won’t go completely hungry after all,” he commented, pointing. “Clean yourself up.”

Rachael looked down at the dribble on her leg, trying not to gag at the thought. “Please Master, I’m not hungry, can I please have a towel to clean it off?” she wheedled, trying to avoid the inevitable.

“If you don’t eat that, you’ll go hungry for the next week, understand, slave?” he warned.

“Yes, Master,” she said, dejectedly. His eyes told her that he could easily carry out that threat. She knew she had to keep up her strength if she had any hope of escaping from this lunatic. Reaching down, she scooped up some of the leaking cum with her fingers and brought it to her lips. Sighing, she knew she couldn’t delay any longer, she opened her mouth and licked the cum off of her fingers. It was slimy, and had kind of a bleachy taste, mixed with the taste of her own juices.

Once again, she pushed back the revulsion and completed her task. He considered having her lick his ass for dessert, then decided to save it for another time. When she finished, he pulled up his shorts and pants, fastening them, and walked over to the stairs and was gone without a word. Rachael collapsed onto the floor, still in a state of shock from the past twelve hours. Determined to escape, she tugged on the chain again and again, refusing to accept the fact that she was a prisoner.


The day passed slowly. She watched as the sun rose over the lake, and slowly drifted overhead. She was tired, hungry, and depressed, but mostly thirsty. Finally, as the sun was setting, he came downstairs once again. He walked over to her and stood there, arms crossed in front, regarding her. “Whenever I enter your presence, slave, you are to adopt the 'Present' position, understood?” he asked, sternly. Rachael scrambled up onto her knees, hands behind her head. “That’s better, slave. Perhaps you can be trained after all.” he told her.

Rachael opened her mouth to ask him a question, but thought better of it and closed her mouth again.

“What is it, slave?” he asked.

Hesitantly, she asked, “Please, Master, I’m so thirsty, may I please have some water?” Knowing what the answer probably was, she asked anyway, desperate for a drink.

“Slaves aren’t allowed to ask for anything. However, they may beg to please me, and in return, I might give them a small reward,” he answered.

Adopting the 'Submit' position, kneeling with arms outstretched on the floor in front, head down, she begged humbly, “Please Master, how may I please you?”

A smirk appeared on his face as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. “I think you know what I want, slave. I want to see some devoted service.”

She rose up until she was kneeling upright, then moved into position in front of him. Without hesitation, she grabbed onto his hips and engulfed his cock with her mouth. Withdrawing, she licked along the length of it, then licked his ball sack. He put his hand on the back of her head and guided his cock back into her mouth. He began pushing deeper into her mouth, pressing at the entrance to her throat. She willed herself to keep going, and tried not to gag. Suddenly, on one of her downthrusts, he pressed hard and popped it into her throat! Tears streaming down her cheeks, she gagged a little, but tried mightily to suppress it. It hurt like hell, but she had done it! She was deep-throating a cock!

He held her there with his cock down her throat for about twenty seconds, until she began to panic, pushing back at his body, fighting for air. He withdrew, let her take a few gasping breaths, then plunged down into her throat again. It was a little easier this time, but still hurt. She smiled inwardly, not ever thinking she could ever accomplish such a feat. She chided herself mentally for feeling a sense of accomplishment at the hands of this sadist, but she knew she had to do this to survive. She definitely wasn’t enjoying it, but she felt that if she turned him on quickly, it would be over that much sooner.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, he tensed up, withdrew his cock until only the head was past her lips, and told her to finish him with her hand, while collecting the cum in her mouth. She did as she was told, rubbed his shaft with her hand, and was rewarded with a few spurts of cum in her mouth. “Don’t swallow until I tell you,” he ordered. He finally withdrew, and told her to open her mouth. She complied, showing a mouthful of slimy cum. “I want you to swish it around in your mouth and gargle with it. Then you can swallow,” he ordered. Again, suppressing her revulsion, she obeyed, swishing it around in her mouth, gargling, and finally, swallowing. The cum coated the entire inside of her mouth and throat.

He walked over to a small mini-fridge (located out of her reach) and pulled out a bottle of water. He handed it to her and told her to take a few swallows to rinse out the cum, then clean him up. After taking a few swigs, she bent to her cleanup task, licking his cock and balls clean. This time, the taste wasn’t as strong, as it didn’t have her juices commingled with the cum. “There you go, slave, dinner and a drink!” he joked sarcastically as he put his cock away. With that, he turned on his heel and went back upstairs, leaving Rachael to the approaching darkness again.


Rachael spent another dark, cold and lonely night on the concrete floor of the lake house basement. She managed to get a few hours of sleep here and there, but was mostly restless on the cold hard concrete floor. The heavy chain around her neck was starting to chafe the skin.

Sometime after sunrise, Brad came strolling down the stairs to check on his prisoner. He was dressed a little more casually today, wearing shorts, a tee shirt and sandals. He was carrying a serving tray containing a plate of store-bought jumbo size glazed doughnuts and a cup of coffee. Rachael’s stomach rumbled at the sight of food, not having eaten anything since dinner two days ago, except for all the cum she had ingested. He set the tray down on the table next to the chair he had occupied the first night. Sitting down, he leisurely picked up a doughnut and started eating it slowly. Rachael lay there and tried not to stare, but her stomach was aching at the thought of food. He sipped his coffee, watching her reactions intently.

All of a sudden, she remembered the protocol: adopt the 'Present' position when Master enters. Hurriedly, she scrambled into the prescribed position, kneeling upright with her hands behind her head.

“I was beginning to think you would need some remedial training,” he commented, sipping his coffee, glancing at the cattle prod, hanging on the wall.

“I’m sorry, Master, it’s just that I’m so hungry, I forgot my place for a moment,” she said, apologetically, trying to appease him, thrusting her boobs out.

Anticipating this scenario, he was pleased to see that she was playing right into his hand. “So I suppose you would like a doughnut?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Yes, Master, if you would be so kind,” she said, trying to stay on his good side.

“What would you be willing to do for a doughnut?” he asked, dangerously.

Rachael used all of her willpower to mask her frustration with him. “Anything Master wants,” she replied, shyly, already dreading his answer.

“Anything?” he asked with a smirk, “Well, let’s put that to the test, right now!” He got up, and dropped his shorts and underwear, stepping out of them. He pulled off his tee shirt over his head, leaving him naked. He actually looked fairly good naked; clearly he worked out on a regular basis.

He picked up one of the doughnuts and placed it around his erect cock, sliding it down to the base. “If you can get me off in the next ten minutes WITHOUT breaking this doughnut, it’s yours.” Rachael gasped. This was the ultimate torment! To get so close to a doughnut, and not be able to taste it, was pure torture! She had to succeed; she was so hungry. She immediately assumed a position directly in front of Brad. Gingerly, she wrapped her lips around his shaft and began to work her way down. At least this time, she didn’t have to worry about deep throating him, although she realized that this could be a handicap; it was one less tool at her disposal.

She got a feel for the depth she could safely go without touching the doughnut, and started to work up and down the shaft. She withdrew for a minute to lick his balls, careful not to disturb the doughnut. As she licked his balls, her tongue would inadvertently slide over the doughnut’s surface, getting a brief taste of the sweet icing.

Brad looked at his watch. “Five minutes to go, cunt; I don’t think you’re gonna make it!” he said with a chuckle. Rachael plunged back onto his cock, sucking and bobbing for all she was worth. It was a cruel dilemma; the doughnut was so close, and yet so far.

It got to the nine minutes and thirty-second mark, and Brad was getting close. He tried to hold off, but at 9:55 he exploded, grabbing the back of her head and thrusting forward further into Rachael’s mouth. She happened to be on a down stroke when he pushed forward, and the doughnut was crushed between her face and his crotch, falling in pieces to the floor.

“Aww, so close! Oh well, better luck next time,” he said with a smirk, having planned this outcome. Rachael looked in tears at the broken doughnut pieces on the floor, resisting the temptation to bend down and scoop them up into her mouth. “Please, Master, may I eat them off the floor?” she begged, desperate.

“Hey, a deal is a deal. You lost,” he replied, coldly. He walked over to a closet, and retrieved a dust pan and brush, carrying it back to her. “Here, sweep up every last crumb and I will dispose of it,” he ordered.

Tears in her eyes, Rachael obeyed, sweeping up her only chance of sustenance and throwing it away. She handed the dustpan and brush back to Brad, who strode over to a wastebasket and made a show of dumping the doughnut pieces into it. Walking back over to her, he stood there with hands on his hips and stared at her, as if lost in thought. “Tell you what, would you like another chance?” he asked.

Knowing that she was probably going to suffer a new indignity; nevertheless, she said softly, “yes, Master.”

“OK, here’s the plan: you will get five minutes to eat a doughnut. Do you think you can do that?” he asked.

Knowing that it could not be that simple or straightforward, she still answered, “Yes, Master.”

Brad walked back over to the table where the rest of the doughnuts were left. He picked up one, and placed it in the center of the chair seat. He proceeded to sit on it, grinding it into his ass crack. When he was satisfied, he got up, holding his ass cheeks together, and walked over to Rachael. He turned around, facing away from her. Bending over, he looked at Rachael and announced “Ready, set, go!! And you’d better get each and every crumb, or this will be your last meal for a week!”

Steeling herself, Rachael dove into his ass crack, licking and chewing as fast as she could. She licked his hairy ass cheeks, getting every crumb and morsel she could find. Once again, she bit back her revulsion, promising herself that she would get even with this sonofabitch someday. When she thought she was finished, Brad said, “I think some crumbs got into my asshole. Stick your tongue in there and find them.”

Please God, help me through this, she thought. There seems to be no end to this jerkoff’s depravity! She pointed her tongue, and closing her eyes, stuck it back into his crack, feeling around for his asshole. Finding it, she choked back a gag and stuck it in. It tasted of musk and sweat. She speared her tongue in and out a few times, working it around the rim. Finally, he was satisfied, and got up. Turning around, he held out his cock and said with a sneer, “Here, something to wash it down!”

Groaning inwardly, Rachael pulled herself up dutifully and sealed her lips around his cock. It only took a few seconds, and a hot stream of piss entered her mouth. She swallowed as quickly as she could, trying not to lose any, fearing punishment, tears streaming down her face.


Brad left her alone for the rest of the morning, for which Rachael was grateful. She began to wonder if this was going to be her daily routine for the foreseeable future. Sometime around mid-afternoon, he came back downstairs. Remembering this time, Rachael assumed the 'Present' position.

“Very good slave, I guess you can be trained after all,” he commented snarkily. He had what looked like a circular ring of chrome tubing about ¾ of an inch thick and six inches in diameter in his hand. “How would you like to be free of that chain?”

Wary, but knowing she had a better chance of escaping without the chain, she said “Yes, Master,” enthusiastically.

“We are going to trade your chain for this elegant slave collar,” he told her. She held her position as he opened the circular piece of chrome into two halves, and placed it around her neck. It locked together with a distinct “click”. It had three “D” rings attached at the front and sides. She also noticed two spring-loaded probes that protruded from the inside of the collar and rested against either side of her throat. The collar was snug, but not choking.

Only then did he unlock the chain and remove it from around her neck. Rachael felt so relieved to be rid of her tether, she said “Thank you, Master.”

“You are now free to go wherever you like,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Really, Master?” Rachael asked, warily.

“Yes, slave, you may go,” he answered with a sweep of his hand. She didn’t need to be told twice; she walked, then ran toward the sliding glass door by the patio. As she got within six feet of the door, she began to feel a tingling in her neck. Three feet from the door, the tingling became a shock. As her inertia carried her the rest of the way, she bounced off the door and fell to the floor, curling up and clawing at her collar as the shocking continued at a high level.

“M-make it s-s-stop, M-Master,” she pleaded, rolling around on the floor.

“You only need to move away from the door,” he answered matter-of-factly. With great effort, body shaking, she crawled away from the door, back toward Brad. Slowly, the shocking diminished, until she was over six feet away from the door. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, the collar is WiFi connected. There are sensors built in to every doorway in this house, as well as several located outside. A central computer tracks your every move, and I can program it to keep you in or out of any room in this house,” he said, smirking.

She looked at him, first in astonishment, then in anger, before she caught herself. The realization hit her; she was as much his prisoner now as before, when she was chained to the post. Subconsciously, she tugged at her new collar, testing its security. It didn’t as much as budge, but she felt a tingle in her neck. “Go ahead, try and remove it. Any serious attempt to remove it will result in a shock so strong, it may kill you,” he told her. “It can only be opened with this key,” he said, showing her a key on a chain around his neck.


He added a new position to her protocols: 'Fours'. A simple position, get down on all fours. She only needed to practice it once. As she remained in her 'Fours' position, he took a leash out of his pocket and clipped it to the “D” ring on the front of her collar. “Heel,” he ordered sharply. He led her on all fours toward the sliding door. As they got closer, Rachael stopped in her tracks, not wanting to get any closer to the door where she would get shocked again.

“Please, Master, I don’t want to get shocked again,” she pleaded.

He took a small remote out of his pocket and pointed it at the sensor over the door. “I’ve disabled this sensor temporarily. It will reset in sixty seconds, so we’d better hurry along,” he warned. He tugged at the leash, and when he did, she got a small shock. “FYI, this collar is also useful for obedience training,” he added.

He opened the sliding door, and led her out onto the patio. He held the leash smartly, not allowing any real slack. If she tried to go anywhere but where he wanted, she would get shocked. Her knees began to bruise as she walked on all fours across the flagstones. They continued across the patio to the opening in the stone wall, walking out onto the lawn. The soft grass was a relief to Rachael, after the concrete and the flagstone floors. He walked her as one would walk a dog. “Do you have to relieve yourself? I know you have been avoiding using the bucket as much as possible,” he pointed out.

The last thing Rachael wanted to do was relieve herself in front of Brad. It would be the ultimate humiliation.

“No, Master, I don’t have to go,” she lied.

“I think you do, and if I were you, I’d do it now, because there will be no bucket in your new home, understand?” he warned.

Torn, Rachael knew she was beaten again, and would probably suffer greatly if she didn’t go along with this. “Yes, Master,” she answered, defeated. Spreading her legs in a wide stance, she squatted down, close to the ground. It took her a minute or two to overcome the humiliating feelings of shame. Finally, a few drops trickled out, followed by a steady stream.

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine she was anywhere but here. The stream seemed to go on forever. Finally, she finished, and resumed her “Fours” position. “What about ‘number two’? Surely you have to go ‘number two”’? he asked, facetiously. It was an order, not a request. Groaning, Rachael squatted again, squeezing her eyes shut and concentrating. After a few seconds, a soft brown stool emerged from her backside, followed closely by another, making a squeaking sound as it came out. Rachael hung her head, turning red, totally embarrassed.

“Are we finished?” he asked, pleasantly.

Not knowing when she might have another chance, Rachael held her breath and pushed, and finally, another one emerged as she let out a long grunt. She heard a small noise, and looked up at the source. He was holding a cell phone; recording a video of her entire performance.

“Good girl,” he praised, patting her on the head as one would a dog. She had never been so humiliated in her entire life. He had witnessed every intimate act she could ever do, and recorded it on video. She wanted to jump up and smash his face, kick him in the balls, and rub his nose in her mess. As if he could read her thoughts, he tugged a little on the leash, resulting in a little shock. It stopped her in her tracks, and pushed her murderous thoughts to the back of her mind.


“Let’s get you settled in to your new home,” he said, excitedly. He led her back (on all fours) to the patio, over to the tarp-covered cage. “Ta-Da,” he exclaimed, pulling off the tarp. It was as she imagined, a rectangular cage, just big enough to contain a human. At four feet high and four feet long, she would be not able to stand, nor stretch out completely. At three feet wide, she would barely be able to turn around, once inside. It was constructed of chromed steel grating, similar to a dog cage. There was a realistic looking cock-and-balls dildo, mounted to the far wall of the cage, pointing inward. It was hanging down, resembling a flaccid penis. It looked to be on some sort of vertical track, which would presumably allow it to be moved up or down. There was what appeared to be an umbilical line protruding from the back end of the dildo, trailing off into a small tower-like plastic encased structure a few feet away, facing the side of the cage.

The structure, resembling a fire hydrant in size, was about a foot in diameter, four feet high, and seemed to be mounted securely to the ground. There was a conduit, presumably containing power lines, emerging from the ground running into one side, presumably from the house. There was a small antenna mounted on the top of what looked like a security camera dome. There was also a perforated grill in the front, presumably for a speaker.

“This is an STB, or Slave Training Bot. You will follow its orders as if they were coming from me. If you don’t obey, you will be punished,” Brad told her.

The bottom of the cage was lined with a soft plastic pad, filled with a gel-like material, providing some measure of comfort, but also waterproof. The door to at the other end of the cage had a round opening in the center, just big enough for someone to fit her head through. Brad was anxious to try out his new customized slave training cage from SlaveMaster.com, which he had ordered with all the available accessories. It was computer controlled by a program that he was able to customize to his own preferences.

He reached into the cage and pulled out what looked like a couple of leather mittens, but missing the thumbs. Rachael noticed that they had leather straps around the openings. He issued the 'Present' command, making her kneel upright. He told her to hold her hands out in front. He took each leather mitten and slipped it over her hands. As the mitten slipped over her hand, she felt a leather pad inside as her fingers went in. This forced her hand into a ball, rendering it useless. He fastened the straps snugly around her wrists, snapping a small padlock through the buckle of each. She was now helpless to do anything with her hands.

He ushered her inside the cage, making her crawl in backwards, not unsnapping the leash until she was fully inside. As he closed the cage door, the catch clicked shut, locking her within. “This is your new home, for the foreseeable future. It will take care of all your needs during your training. As I said, I would advise you to follow directions carefully to avoid more punishments,” he told her, before walking off.

“Wait, where are you going, Master?” she cried, suddenly feeling even more trapped than when she was chained in the cellar.

“I’ve got some business to attend to, shouldn’t be more than a few days,” he said nonchalantly, as he strolled toward the house.

In actuality, he would be monitoring her closely from inside the house using a multitude of cameras placed strategically around the property. His plan was to let the cage 'train' her for a few days, since he was too lazy to do it himself, and he realized how humiliated Rachael would be when a machine controlled her.

'A few days?' she thought to herself. 'How am I going to survive a few days locked in here?

All of a sudden, the plastic 'Bot' came to life. A computerized male voice crackled out of the speaker. “Attention, slave, until your Master intervenes, I am your Master. You will obey every command without question or hesitation to avoid punishments like this – “ Suddenly, her collar turned on, shocking her at a high level, for about five seconds. She lay on the floor of the cage, quivering in fear and pain.

“If you understand and agree to obey, assume the Fours position immediately.”

Shaking herself out of her daze, she scrambled to her Fours position. As she did, the wall-mounted dildo began moving down with a mechanized sound to the level of her head. She turned around, startled.

“You will now suck on the dildo. If your technique is judged acceptable, you will be rewarded with hydration. Begin.”

Rachael couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing. This machine was dictating her every move, and punishing her if she didn’t obey? As she pondered this, she felt a slight tingling in her neck, a warning.

She rushed over to the flaccid dildo and began sucking. It was silicone, and felt fairly lifelike. As she sucked, the dildo began to expand and grow, as if it was being turned on. There was a hole at the end of the dildo, just like a real penis. She expected something to come out the hole, most likely water. When nothing came out after a couple of minutes, she gave up and withdrew. Immediately, a mild shock reminded her that she did not call the shots here. She plunged her mouth back over the dildo, and the shock stopped.

“Your blowjob technique is below acceptable levels. You will continue to practice until you are given hydration,” the Bot told her.

'How does it know what I’m doing?' she thought. Then it hit her – there must be sensors imbedded in the dildo. She doubled her efforts now, plunging deeper and deeper onto the dildo. Eventually, the dildo grew to be about the same girth and shape as Brad’s, although it seemed to be at least an inch or two longer. She was finally able to push the dildo past the entrance to her throat, hurting almost as much as the first time she did this. She held it for a few seconds, then backed off.

A trickle of water emerged from the dildo. She sucked greedily on the dildo for the water she needed so badly and was rewarded with a few swallows. “You must now hold the dildo in your throat and touch the sensors at the bottom for at least thirty seconds to receive sustenance,” the Bot announced.

'Thirty seconds? Is it nuts?' she thought. She tried again, but began struggling for air at the twenty second mark and withdrew, gasping for air.

“You will keep trying until you achieve your goal, slave,” the Bot said. At that point, Rachael lost it. She knew in the back of her mind that this was a mistake, but she couldn’t help it. She pulled off of the dildo and tried to rip it off the wall with her leather-bound hands. She couldn’t get a purchase on it, and began pounding at it with her fists, screaming. The shock that hit her was stronger than ever before, and it kept going for about fifteen seconds. She lost control of her bladder and collapsed on the cage floor, momentarily rendered unconscious.

She woke up with a start, and every muscle in her body felt like she had just run a marathon. There were muscle cramps all over her body. She just lay there, weeping.

“You have just received punishment level 8. There are two more levels above this, if you continue to disobey. First, you have only five minutes to clean up your mess, then you will go back to your task,” the Bot ordered.

'Clean up what mess?' she thought, then she felt the wet urine beneath her. 'Oh no', she thought, 'there’s probably only one way I can do that –'

“What –” she only got first word out before another mild shock hit her.

“You have also been placed in Silent Mode. You will not speak until Silent Mode is disabled,” the Bot announced.

'Just great,' she thought. 'Now I can’t even speak.' She picked herself up onto all fours, then lowered her head to the cage floor. Tentatively, she extended her tongue, and licked up the small puddle of piss off the floor, not wanting to waste any time and risk another punishment. Fortunately for her, she had just relieved herself a few minutes before, and there wasn’t much to clean up, but it was still deeply humiliating.

'How did the Bot know I wet myself?' she pondered. Then she realized that Brad must be watching her remotely through the camera, and programming the Bot to issue orders accordingly. 'How am I ever going to survive, and come out of this in one piece mentally?' she wondered, as she approached the dildo. She resumed sucking on it, going deeper each time, until it breached the entrance to her throat. This time, she reached the bottom and stayed there. Ten seconds, fifteen, twenty seconds. Her lungs began screaming for air, but she held on, determined to make her goal.

At twenty-five seconds, the Bot began beeping the last five second countdown, with a louder beep at the thirty second mark. “Congratulations, slave, you have completed your first goal. Withdraw to the end of the dildo and hold your mouth open to receive your sustenance.” the Bot announced.

Immediately, Rachael slid back along the dildo, until her lips were hovering around the head, taking in huge gulps of air. Within a few seconds, a liquid with a thick consistency began to squirt out of the dildo in spurts, mimicking a cock spewing cum. She kept her mouth open and swallowed as the dildo kept squirting, all while still trying to catch her breath. It didn’t taste very good, but she guessed it had all the nutrients she needed to survive. After a couple of minutes, the flow ceased.

“You may now rest for a period of thirty minutes,” the Bot announced mechanically.

'Thirty minutes? What then? More blowjob practice?' she thought.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto the floor of the cage and tried to sleep. She felt even more vulnerable and exposed out here.


Rachael awoke about twenty minutes later, by the sound of a motorboat. Desperately, she rose up on her knees and leaned against the side of the cage. She caught a glimpse of a boat going by on the lake. “HEL –“ was all she managed to scream out before she was hit with another shock, severe enough to cause her to lose consciousness. In her desperation, she had forgotten about Silent Mode, and paid the penalty.

She awoke to the sound of the Bot’s voice: “You have been given a level 9 punishment for speaking without permission while in Silent Mode. You have five minutes to clean up any mess you have made, then proceed to the dildo and wait in Fours position for further training.”

Her body protested when she tried to move, muscles aching and cramping. She lay there, wondering if she could get a severe enough punishment to get a shock that would kill her and end her misery. “You now have three minutes and thirty seconds to finish your cleanup task,” the Bot announced. Rachael, scared, dazed and shocked into submission, couldn’t bear to get another punishment. She got up and looked at the pad under her. Sure enough, there was another small puddle of piss. She bent to her task and lapped up the smelly puddle of piss, then crawled over to the dildo, awaiting further orders.

At the five minute mark, the Bot spoke again. “The next exercise addresses Oral Technique. You will lick and suck the dildo per my instructions until you are rewarded with your Master’s cum. Begin by licking the balls,” the Bot ordered.

Sticking her tongue out, Rachael began licking the ball sack, which felt strangely realistic. “Suck each ball in carefully, one at a time, and lick around it with your tongue,” the Bot ordered. Obediently, she complied. The dildo, which was again in a flaccid state, began to grow.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Rachael licked, sucked and deep throated the dildo per the Bot’s instructions. Finally, she felt the dildo stiffen and expand slightly. “I am about to cum, slave, right down your throat. Slide all the way down my cock and accept my reward,” the Bot ordered. Her throat was still raw, but it seemed to get a little easier each time to get the cock down her throat. She obeyed the order, bottoming out on the dildo and waiting. Immediately, the cock began to pulse, shooting it’s cum mixture down her throat. When the cock finished pulsing, Rachael backed off and sat back, catching her breath.

“This exercise is completed. You now have a thirty minute rest period,” the Bot told her.

Once more she collapsed, exhaustion overtaking her.


Exactly thirty minutes later, a loud beeping from the Bot woke her from a sound sleep. “From now on, you will assume the Fours position whenever you are addressed by me,” the Bot announced.

Still half asleep, Rachael lay there, hoping for another few seconds of rest before getting up. A short warning burst from her shock collar woke her up in a hurry. She scrambled to the Fours position and waited. “It is now time for physical exercise,” the Bot announced. “You will be allowed to leave the cage in order to exercise. Any deviation from these instructions will result in immediate punishment.”

As if on cue, the door latch clicked, and the door swung open. Rachael couldn’t believe it – she was being released from the cage! She crawled out onto the patio. Tentatively, she stood up and looked around. She didn’t see any sign of Brad, either outside or behind any of the rear facing windows. It was now or never, she thought. Gathering up her courage, she took off, sprinting away from the house toward the lake.

She got as far as the opening in the stone walls before the shock hit her. She stumbled and fell forward, falling face first into the grass. Her body continued to spasm and convulse for several seconds before she went limp. She lay unconscious for several seconds. A tingle at her neck brought Rachael slowly back to consciousness. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was and what had just happened. “Slave, you have thirty seconds to assume the Attention position by the entrance of your cage,” the Bot ordered.

Rachael, in shock, running mostly on autopilot, scrambled back to the cage and stood, legs apart, hands behind her head. “Slave, you were warned about deviating from my instructions. You received a level 10 penalty. You will now follow directions precisely to avoid further punishment,” the Bot announced. Rachael remembered that Brad had told her that there were sensors placed in various locations outdoors and well as indoors. She was still a prisoner anywhere on the grounds of this lake house.

“You will now commence physical exercise,” the Bot ordered. “You will jog 20 laps around the inside perimeter of this patio,” it said.

'Are you kidding me?' she thought. As her collar began to tingle, she took off toward the nearest wall, then began to follow it around, jogging. The flagstones were hard under her feet. Her breasts flopped up and down, painfully. She held her leather-bound hands against the sides of her breasts to minimize the movement. She began to pant, taking shallow breaths. At this rate, she knew she wouldn’t finish. Realizing that the Bot would punish her if she did not complete the exercise, she slowed her breathing down, taking deeper breaths.

As she completed the 20 laps, the Bot told her to slow down to a walk for a couple more laps to cool down. As she completed her task, she walked back to the center of the patio, collapsing in a heap by her cage, her breasts heaving from the exertion.

“Your exercise period is completed. You may now go to the lawn and relieve yourself,” the Bot ordered.

Shocked by the intimacy of the command, Rachael nevertheless needed to go. She got up and walked out to the lawn. This time, she was not shocked. Curious, she walked out a little further, testing the limits of her captivity. Sure enough, as she reached a few yards past the stone wall, the collar gave her a warning tingle. She walked a little closer to the wall, and the collar stopped. With a deep sigh, knowing that there was only one way she was going to accomplish this, she squatted down, releasing a yellow stream into the grass. Having no other way to clean herself, and feeling totally degraded, she dragged her cunt across the grass. She felt like she had won a small victory, though, since she was out of range of the Bot’s camera. As she got up, however, she noticed another camera mounted atop the entrance to the stone wall, pointed directly at her.

She glanced around quickly, looking for something, anything, that might help her escape. The tingling of her collar prodded her to return to the patio. Walking back to the cage, she adopted the 'Fours' position next to it.

“You may enter the cage,” the Bot announced.

Rachael crawled into the cage. The door swung shut behind her, locking with a distinct click.

“You may suck on the dildo for hydration,” the Bot said.

She crawled over to the dildo and wrapped her lips around the head. This time, the water flowed without Rachael having to work for it. She swallowed greedily, knowing that she needed every drop.

“You are now allowed a two hour rest period,” the Bot told her. Rachael did not need to be told twice; her eyes were closed before she collapsed on the cage floor.

End of part 1

Copyright© 2015 by Wicked’s Pet. All rights reserved.