Content Warning:
This story contains intense depictions of cruelty toward the main character. It is purely a work of fantasy and should not be interpreted as a reflection of real-life behaviour or actions.
Please read the content warnings in Ch. 01 and do not continue if this will cause you distress.
Emma woke the next morning, and went tiredly through the morning routine. Downstairs she cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, and obediently laid the table for two. When the door to the kitchen opened at exactly half past nine, she could hear only one pair of footsteps.
"William's still sleeping," James said lightly. "You must have tired him out last night." Emma said nothing, and heard him start to eat the meal she had prepared. "Why don't you tell me all about it?" Emma's heart sank. She didn't know if she could bear to talk to James about what she had done last night. It still felt like a huge betrayal. "Come on, tell me what the two of you did. Don't leave any details out; I'll know if you do."
And so Emma began, telling James how she had kissed William and then how she had let him fuck her. She told him that she had begged for more, and that finally they had come together. Throughout the story, James was silent. "That's all, master," she said when she had finished.
"Well, you certainly had a fun-filled evening," he said mockingly. "I wonder if you would like to sleep with William again tonight."
Emma said nothing, and prayed that they would let her sleep in her cage that evening. Just a few short days ago she would never have believed that she would be hoping for that awful cage, but they'd somehow managed to find something worse. Shortly after, William came down, and the two men began comparing notes on what it was like to fuck Emma. She flushed as she heard them talk about her as though she was nothing but a sex-object; to hear her body described in vivid detail. They even talked about the noises she made when she came.
They went through the process of feeding her, and then let her outside to relieve herself. "Make sure you make the most of this, bitch, because you won't be allowed out again until after lunch," James said.
They told her to get down on all fours between their armchairs, and rested an ashtray on her back. All morning they watched TV and chatted as though she wasn't even there, and Emma was left alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help dwelling on what had happened to her since she had arrived at their house. It had been two days since she had last heard her name spoken aloud; two days since she had been allowed to make her own choices; two days since she had eaten at a table and used cutlery. Had it really only been two days?
She had almost an entire month to go, and she couldn't think what else they might have in store for her. She had shown her pussy to a group of drunken men in a pub; fucked herself in the arse with the heel of her own shoe; played fetch; and begged for treats like a dog. And she had allowed herself to be fucked by her boyfriend's best friend. She flushed when she thought about that. What else could they possibly do to humiliate and degrade her?
After lunch, they played lucky dip again. Emma picked out a cucumber and they made her fuck herself with it, and then deep-throat it when it was covered in her cum. Finally they made her cut it into slices and insert each slice into her pussy before she ate it. They laughed the whole time, as though they couldn't believe the depths to which she would sink on their orders. When she was finished, they took her into the dining room and she prayed they weren't going to punish her again. She had done everything they had asked of her, so surely they wouldn't beat her?
They didn't beat her. William opened a box and pulled out a large butt-plug and showed it to her while James unclipped her lead. William pushed the butt-plug into her mouth and she knew to suck on it so it would be lubricated. He handed it to James, who pushed it roughly into her arse. It was bigger than the one they had used yesterday, and again her arsehole felt like it was on fire. William pulled out a vibrator and pushed it deep into her pussy, and turned it on. Both her holes were filled, and the vibrator was buzzing at her clit as well. She felt herself getting wet instantly.
"We're leaving you here on your own for a while," James said as he cuffed her wrists behind her back. "We didn't want you to get bored, so you've got these toys to keep you occupied."
William fastened her ankles to hooks in the floor, keeping her legs spread wide, and then tied her wrist-cuffs to a hook in the wall. She was locked in tight and unable to move. "We don't want to have you with us all the time, you see. We've got better things to do and we have no use for you right now." They left her alone in the dining room and the message was clear. She wasn't important enough to bother with unless they wanted her for something.
For hours they left her, until her legs and shoulders ached, and her arsehole and pussy throbbed with the constant, unrelenting stimulation. She had come over and over again, and her juices were running down her thighs and pooling on the floor beneath her. She couldn't think because the orgasms had taken over, and when James finally came back she was almost passed out.
When James pulled the butt-plug and vibrator roughly from her holes, her body protested violently. Her arsehole was gaping and she was desperate for something to fill her pussy. She moaned lightly, and James laughed. "You'll have to cope with nothing inside you right now. You've got cleaning to do." He released her from her cuffs and pushed her onto the ground, holding her face in her own cum. She obediently put out her tongue and licked up the mess she had made on the floor. When it was clean, James pulled her back to her feet and pushed her towards the door. "William wants you for something. He's in his bedroom."
Emma knocked nervously on William's door. He was dressed in a tracksuit, and he was damp. He looked up when she came in and smiled. "Good, you're here. I've decided to take up running, but I'm not exactly fit. I'm dripping with sweat. Clean me up, will you?" He pulled his t-shirt off and Emma hesitated. She wasn't sure what he meant for her to do. Sighing impatiently, he pulled her towards him. "You're not a fool, are you? Lick me clean, bitch."
Her mouth was already full of the taste of her own cum, and now it mingled with the salty flavour of William's sweat. His skin felt clammy and horrible, and Emma felt completely shamed as she licked his chest and stomach. He lifted his arms and she moved up to lick underneath them, burying her nose in his underarm hair. She felt sickened by his taste and smell, and when he pulled down his trousers and boxer-shorts she had to fight not to pull away. He pushed her down and held her face in his arse-crack and she licked furiously, trying to ignore the taste of his shit. She moved down to his balls, and then his cock.
Before he got hard, though, he pushed her head away and sat down. "Do my feet, and then you can go downstairs." She tentatively began to lick his feet, and he sighed in relaxation. "That's it, whore. Make sure you get right in between the toes; that's where I get really filthy." Finally she was allowed to go. Her nose and mouth were full of the taste of his body, and she prayed she wouldn't be asked to do that again.
They didn't give her anything to take the taste away, and when James pushed her into her cage that night, she could still sense William in her mouth. Yet she couldn't help but be relieved to be crawling into the hard, metal cage. After the excesses of the day before, she couldn't believe that she wasn't going to be forced to do anything worse. Again, she fell asleep instantly.
The days passed slowly, and each one brought more degradation and humiliation. Occasionally they would have other people over, and those days would be the worst, as though they wanted to prove just how demeaning they could be. She would never get used to eating off the floor and doing her business outside, and she would never get used to being called bitch and whore. But she did grow to expect it. She wasn't surprised by anything they did to her anymore. Slowly but surely she was becoming what they wanted her to be: an object to be treated with disdain and contempt. She lost count of the number of days she had been their slave.
She could have been there months or just a couple of weeks, for all she knew. On occasion they found reason to punish her, and she was always expected to thank them for it. William didn't fuck her again like he had that first time, but he sometimes told her to get down on her hands and knees and would fuck her that way. When he fucked her she wasn't allowed to moan or talk; she had to bark like a dog. And if she didn't bark enough, or in the way he wanted, he would pull out and pound her arsehole until he was satisfied. He barely ever let her orgasm, and he always made her tell him how much she enjoyed it when he was done. She had to clean him off afterwards, as well, even when he'd fucked her in the arse. James never fucked her, and neither did any of the guests, although they were certainly allowed to anything else they wanted with her.
One evening, she was told to put on the outfit laid out in her cage, because they were going out. Although people had come to the house, they hadn't taken her out since the night they visited the pub and Daniel's house. With a little trepidation, Emma went upstairs. The skirt they had provided for her this time was even shorter than before: looking down she could clearly see her pussy-lips peeking out from the bottom, and she could feel that her arsehole was only just covered. The top was nothing more than a piece of fabric that barely covered her nipples. A pair of incredibly high heels completed the outfit. Last time she had looked like a common prostitute, now she looked like a crack-whore.
