Sex Slave

"You will not get away with what you've done! You shall suffer the wrath of God!" This came out of Martha's mouth in a very high-pitched squeak.

Another chuckle came from Steven. "Well, it seems like that's going to be our issue, not yours, would you agree with that?"

"You will be found by my folks. You'll go to jail–"

"Enough," he said, his tone becoming more stern, and his gaze becoming more intent. "If they find us, it is because we have failed to execute our tasks and we have earned their discovery. You are a part of our group in the meanwhile. We've taken you, if you like. You are our property, and we may utilize you in any way that we see suitable. Now be quiet or I'll blow my stack at you. That is not something you would desire."

Next to Martha, who was slouched over her mattress and looking up at the ceiling, Steven assumed a crouching position himself. He stretched out and put his hand on the cloth, which was still moist. "I see you had a small accident here," Steven said, pointing to her wet bed, as he spoke the phrase. "It would seem that Richard does have such an influence on others around him. Let's get you cleaned up. He dislikes it when his toys are soiled in any way. Oh no, we can't afford to make Richard angry. That is not going to work at all." Steven used a tone of speech that was casual and easygoing, as if he were discussing the weather or the grandma of a friend. The very mention of Richard's name brought back the serious expression on his face, his slate gray eyes gazing through her as if she didn't exist, or much worse, as if the very fact that she did exist was an insult to him.

In her mouth, the coffee had thickened to the consistency of muck. Martha lowered the cup on the table and, trembling, attempted to cover herself once again. "Having fun yet? That's not a problem at all. Even though I baked those muffins just for you, I'm not going to take it personally that you've lost your appetite. To be honest, it seems like you could use to drop a few pounds in any case, is that right, Martha?" Martha's face turned a bright shade of red as she struggled to contain her anger and humiliation at the fact that he had called her obese and made the comment. Evan affirmed to her that he like her in her natural state and that he found it feminine and appealing. She had believed him, and the pleasure she took in sweets contributed to her belief that there was no need for anything to alter.

"No need to be alarmed, however. We'll make sure you get your workout. But before we do anything else, let's get you cleaned up! Richard is highly picky when it comes to his personal cleanliness. For his games, he is going to expect you to be neat and tidy all the time. First, I'm going to take the handcuffs off of you, but don't even think about doing anything as idiotic as running away from me once I'm done. Richard and I both have a lot of strength, and we live in the middle of nowhere extremely far away from everybody else." Steven took a little key off of a necklace that was around his neck and utilized it as he was speaking. While Steven extended his hand to Martha, Martha stroked her wrists nervously. "Up you get!" Martha grabbed the offered hand despite her strong reluctance, as she did not dare to decline it.

He took her from the room with the mirrors and brought her down the hall to a washroom. The temperature in this chamber was lower than in the one she had been confined to before. Martha shuddered and crossed her arms over her breasts to keep from becoming cold. Steven indicated the restroom with a point. "Do you need to leave?" Martha seemed to be shaking her head, but she wasn't. She was not going to urinate in front of this man under any circumstances.

"You are free to do as you choose, but you should know that if you continue to urinate in your bed, you will be disciplined for it. If you really want to suppress your laughter, make sure you do it even more skillfully than you did the prior time!" As he saw Martha redden and lower her head, he couldn't help but crack a smile. He escorted her to the shower and started the water before entering.

"I'm afraid you're in for a chilly shower. You're going to have to work for that sizzling one. And you surely haven't done anything to deserve that just yet!" Martha was coerced into stepping into the chilly spray of water by Steven, who pushed her. She whimpered and fumbled her way out of the room.

"Martha, you should stay in. If you don't come in, I'll make sure you stay inside." The threat was ambiguous, yet it was sufficient to get the poor girl to comply with what she was instructed. She behaved pitifully as she stood there in the mist. Steven grabbed the bar of soap and proceeded to massage it all over her body, creating a lather in the process. "Feet shoulder-width apart and hands behind your head," was the instruction he issued. Martha put herself in the position that was expected of her, despite the fact that the cold was making her teeth rattle and her cheeks was hot with embarrassment.

Steven gave her a thorough lather, pausing for barely a split second to concentrate on her nipples and pussy. He went so far as to wash her hair for her and then instruct her to rinse it. He grabbed her hand and assisted her in getting out of the bathtub before using a huge, absorbent towel to aggressively but effectively dry her off. As he took her back to her mirrored cage, her thick, black hair flowed wetly down her back like a waterfall.

Martha was happy for the fact that it was warmer in there, despite the fact that she was still shivering from the cold shower she had just had. The mattress was gone, leaving behind just the barren room, which had a number of enormous hooks that gave off a sinister appearance strategically positioned on the floor and in the ceiling. Martha saw her own nude body reflected in the mirrored walls wherever she looked. The reflections seemed to go on forever. She glanced down, feeling even more humiliated than before.

After spending some time away from her, Steven returned with a huge box that he slammed down forcefully on the ground upon his arrival. He ordered, "Kneel," while pointing to his feet for emphasis. Martha crouched down and curled herself into a ball, acting as if she might vanish. "Hands out in front of you, forehead to the floor, and ass up high," the instructor said. During the time that Steven was talking, he dragged and pushed Martha into the proper position. He then skillfully fastened leather shackles to her wrists and ankles and a huge belt around her waist. He used chains that were created specifically for the task, binding her at the waist, wrists, and ankles to the hooks in the floor so that she was unable to move from her position. And there he abandoned the woman.