Finishing her punishment, he takes note that the table is set, and food ready to serve when he is hungry. Good girl, he thought to himself.
Wanting to give her a few minutes to catch her breath and removed the soap. He examines her toys and equipment, all carefully laid out for his inspection. She wants to look up, to watch his reaction to her collection of toys, but is fearful to move without permission. His cock starts to twitch inside his pants as he reviews her eclectic collection of toys and equipment.
Walking into the bedroom, he sees the saline IV setup, one for each tit, everything ready for him to plunge the needle into her breasts and start the IV drip. His cock aches to be freed as he imagines her tits after he sizes them to his personal preference. Yes, it may take two or three hours to safely fill them, but he wants the full two cups in each tit. He wants them heavier, fuller, and painful to touch even before he starts using her, torturing her, laying claim to her as his personal property.
He sees the catheter equipment laid out next to the bed and ready for insertion if he chooses to control her bladder. Pre-cum leaks from the tip as he imagines his cock in her hot slippery cunt and then her shock as ice cold sterile water fills her bladder. He loves to fuck her violently and build a ferocious heat in her cunt. When he releases the value and floods her bladder, the coolness penetrates her thin vaginal walls and the fullness of her bladder presses down around his cock like a glove and makes his orgasm many more times explosive.
Walking into the bathroom, he sees the enema equipment setup and ready to be released into her rectum. As he washes his hands, he thinks about what he wants to do next. So many things to do, so little time.
Only two full days to break her down and then three weeks to train her to serve and submit to anything he wants. The military way for new recruits during basic training is his specialty being a career military commander.
Break ’em fast and hard, then make ’em into the soldiers they must be.
He smiles. This slut has no idea how long he has been searching for someone like her nor what he plans to do with her over the next three weeks.
Her body is a roadmap of abject fear and unrequited lust. She stands rigid as “fight or flight” alarms roar in her head. Sweat drips from her flesh. Her forehead crinkles in consternation. Her lips appear frozen into a forced smile. Her fists open and close as if stretching her fingers.
Yet, her body ekes arousal. Her hips sway provocatively searching for a cock to penetrate her loins. Her nipples are erect, long, thick and reaching out, screaming for attention. Vines of sweet woman-juice ooze from her cunt and slowly slide down her thighs.
It is essential in these early stages to teach her that unacceptable behavior, any bending of his rules, any deviation from his desires will be swiftly and brutally punished. Actions have consequences. It is a lesson he hopes she learns quickly.
As he walks back to her, he again examines the impressive array of BDSM items laid out for his use and pleasure. Opening his bag, he pulls out his collar, leash, blindfold, and faces her. He buckles the collar around her neck, tightens the blindfold around her head, and then attaches the leash.
The blindfold is so thick that it shrouds her in absolute darkness. Standing erect, leash dangling between her legs, she struggles to hear any sign of him or what he is doing.
“Clasp your hands behind your neck and push your tits out.” his voice interrupts the nervous silence.
Lifting his wooden paddle from his bag, he swishes it through the air like a batter warming up his swing. He loves the musical whooshing sound as the board slices through the air in front her. Her entire body shudders as wind from the paddle fans the sweat adhering to her skin. She licks her lips in trepidation, not knowing what is to come.
He notices that she is clearly under stress and possibly about to lose it. His prolonged silences and unresponsiveness toward her needs is nearly unbearable, worse is his lack of touching her. Yes, his belt has bitten into her hide, but nary a lover’s touch from him. He is spending his time slowly preparing her for his “possession” or “take over”. He plans to own her, in fact all of her, mind, body, even demanding her soul.
She senses movement, but is unable to fully form details as he takes his position to the side of her, like her body was home plate. With all the care of batter poised to hit a home run, he raises the wooden paddle in an elegant high back-swing and cracks it flat into her nipple. Her breast shakes violently, and her nipple compresses then sinks deep into her chest cavity. The amount of force behind that swing was impressive.
“The female body is full of special nerve endings.” His voice is almost chatty. “Little places partially hidden by folds or tuffs of skin; places where pain can be concentrated and magnified a thousand, even a million times. Lucky (or perhaps unlucky) for you, I know them all.”
Her nipples retreated inside the fleshy breast tissue for protection after the second strike. Her breasts throb and burn after five direct hits on each, yet her hands remain as ordered.
Picking up his bag, he guides her to the IV setup in the bedroom. He decided to shape her tits to the size he prefers before he really starts to break her of her willfulness; before he systematically strips her of her former self. He thinks perhaps two cup sizes would be nice and are within the “safe” threshold.
Crawling behind him into the bedroom, he commands her to sit in the chair, impaling her anal opening on a short inflatable dildo that when pumped to the maximum, inflates to a whopping four inch diameter. Reaching into his bag, he collects straps and belts to bind her to the chair. Unable to move, he gently slides the IV needles into each breast and regulates the flow of the saline drip.
Her sadistic Master then fishes in his magic bag again pulling out a nose plug and headphones to go along with the blindfold. While her breasts slowly fill, he secures the remaining items to her. He knows that depriving her of nearly all her senses is an effective control technique and an integral part of initial slave training. He inflates the butt plug several times before he walks away.
She is cloaked in a vacuum filled with silence and blackness as she struggles to breathe through her mouth. Her imagination runs amuck envisioning what may be next and wondering how terrible it will be.
He turns on an audio-visual reconditioning system. He is only using only the audio component connected to her headset as she sits quietly, tightly bound, blindfolded, and oddly aroused by the gentle drops of saline slowly filling and expanding her breasts.
He designed the audio-visual tracks to strip away the higher personality layers that made her a successful business professional. When he is finished with her reconditioning, she will have no dignity, no pride, and no limit to the depth of depravity she will descend at his command.
Her existence will soon focus solely on his needs which includes her submitting to his sadistic urges without a second thought or a moment’s hesitation. His friend has several dogs that regularly breed with women and are attracted more towards the scent of a human cunt than their own species.
The headset connected to the reconditioning system plays over and over again. Voice tracks fill her minds-eye with abject fear as he foretells of what he wants to do or will do, how he is going to use sensory deprivation, frequent discipline, long hard training sessions, along with prolonged exhaustion until she is completely broken. Yes, her training includes administering pain, pure raw pain to ensure that she will absolutely be a totally compliant bitch.
Sandwiched between his voice recordings are tracks of women screaming, crying, begging their Masters to stop whatever is being done to them. The sound of a whip crashing into flesh plays like an intermission between his voice and the screams.
“You are my sex slave, my fuck meat.”
“When I strap you into my stockade …”
“You exist solely to serve at my pleasure, not yours.”
“When I shove my fist inside your cunt or ass …”
“I am your sadist where all your nightmares become reality.”
“When I torture your tits …”
“You are going to be my bitch and will fuck or suck or submit to anyone or any animal I tell you to fuck …”
Terrified but finally accepting that she is in over her head, she decides to make a run for it. He is real and will do everything and anything he wants. There is no way out. This is no longer a role-playing BDSM session. This is real-life and he is going to take her, use her, abuse her, then sell her when he tires of her.
If only she can tell him that she gives up, that he does not have to break her down. “I will be a good girl. God I wish the screaming of those women would stop. I am so scared that I may pee on the chair.” These along with hundreds of other thoughts shake her to her very core. A thin layer of sweat collects on the surface of her skin.
Make no mistake. He is a sadist. A total pervert. And he is determined to own her and exploit her.
At least one cup of saline has filled her breasts. The added weight of her tits and the coolness of the liquid under the surface of her skin has magnified her need to cum.
She has not always been this way. Well maybe that’s not true. She always sided with the villain, the baddest of the bad. While most people hoped that Batman and Robin would prevail over evil, she secretly rooted for the Joker, Riddler, and even Lex Luther. And she desperately wanted to be their prize should they succeed in their endeavors against good.
She does not know how much time has passed before he walks back into the room. Unbeknownst to her, in his hand is a knife. He slides the tip of the blade up along her inner thighs. As she starts to open her mouth, he quickly closes it hard with his hands, her teeth coming together and barely missing her tongue.
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