Dinner

For the first time, I have a moment to examine my prison.

Everything is white.

Walls, ceiling, and floor are solid white concrete. Painted? The left and right walls are flat smooth surfaces, completely unmarked. Except for the wooden beam I had been strapped to, the front wall is the same.

While the back wall is also white concrete, everything else is different. There is a door in the center and two sets of recessed drawers on either side. Like everything else, the drawers and door are painted pure white.

A comfortable-looking chair with a matching end table is in one of the back corners.

The floor has a slight slope; everything angles towards a drain hole in the center. The only other thing on the ground is the chain. It runs from my collar to a small pile in the corner.

The chain is the only thing that isn't white. My cold mind drives me to stop. Check the chain. That's the most important thing. I follow it back to the pile in the corner. Hopefully, I'll figure out some way to free myself. When I reach the end, my heart sinks. I had hoped for something screwed into the floor. Something I could work loose in time. But, the chain isn't attached to the floor; it goes inside of it.

I shiver with cold sweat. Feeling as though someone had punched me in the stomach. My cold mind notes that it actually feels like being punched in the stomach, now that I can compare the experiences.

My cold mind calmly removes escape from my goals. I collapse to my knees, overwhelmed by churning dread. Survival is the only thing I have left.

A door opens behind me. I spin around, and she is there with a paper bag and a plate of food. Mac-n-cheese. Fried chicken. Steamed asparagus. I Haven't eaten in... a very long time. They smell delicious, and my stomach immediately rumbles loudly. She sets the plate down on the end table and smiles at me. My eyes flicker between her and the food.

I'm starving.

She smiles at me, and the chain still in my hand. "As I told you before, it's permanent and impossible to remove. I threaded it through the rebar in the foundation. I couldn't budge it before pouring the concrete. Now? Nothing less than a jackhammer would do.

"Have you tested to see how far it reaches?"

I shake my head, and she gestures for me to find out. The chain, anchored in one corner of the room, is long enough for me to reach most of the room. The only things I can't touch are the door and the set of drawers furthest from my corner.

After a quick glance to make sure she isn't upset, I check the drawers I can reach. The first one has a few basics. Makeup. Fingernail clippers. Hair trimmer, Waxing supplies. Things like that. Fuck, I don't see any razors.

I hate waxing.

The second drawer is full of clothing. Well, if you want to call it that. It's full of lingerie.

The last drawer is empty.

She takes a couple of bowls out of the paper bag and puts them on the floor. Stainless steel bowls. From the pet store. Opening one of the drawers, she takes out a water hose and connects it to a recessed spigot I hadn't noticed. After filling the water bowl, she empties a pouch of powder into it.

Did she just drug the water?

Seeing my expression, she rolls her eyes.

"Don't be stupid. It's crushed vitamins. Go pick up the plate, but it's not time to eat yet."

I nod my head eagerly, and head for the plate. It smells heavenly, and I can't wait to eat. A thump coming from behind attracts my attention, and I turn in time to see a second ugly brown potato land in the bowl.

Walking past me, she sits down in the comfortable looking chair and holds her hands. For a moment, I'm confused. Oh, she wants the plate. With a resigned sigh, I pass it to her. She snaps her fingers and points at the fork. I quickly hand it to her.

I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what I should do, and terrified of making her angry. She watches me as she eats, clearly enjoying her dinner.

Between bites, she explains, "You are only allowed to eat and drink from your bowls, or directly from me."

I nod, thinking about the water bottle earlier.

"Don't drink from the hose, and don't fill your water bowl. All food and drink will come through me.

"You are my pet, and you will eat like it. On all fours, with mouth and tongue," she gestures at the bowls, "Go! Eat. Drink."

My cheeks heat with anger. Or is it humiliation? Either way, I'm so hungry that I don't hesitate, so I immediately kneel and take a bite of a baked potato. Oh, it's not cooked, it's raw. The texture isn't terrible, but the taste leaves a lot to be desired. I'm hungry enough to eat both without complaint.

Moving to the water, I attempt to drink. Licking doesn't work well, but after a few failed attempts, I figure out how to suck it up using my lips. To my disgust, the water soon tastes of her musky vagina. Some of the dried mess sticking to my face has been washing off into the water.

Disgusting.

She says. "Oops, I set your bowels down the wrong way. Turn them around so that everyone can see your name."

Wondering what little humiliation this will be, I adjust them. The text, my new name, is the same on both. "Twat."

Holding back tears, I look up at her smiling face and take the opportunity to learn her name. I point at myself, then at the bowl. I point at her and shrug my shoulders.

"Twat, wants to know my name?"

I nod.

"My name is Mistress." I try to keep my face expressionless as I nod understanding.

Fucking bitch.

Words. Speech. Losing that is almost worse than everything else. Only the most basic forms of communication are available. Somehow, I don't believe she will wait while I explain myself in a game of charades.

No, this had been deliberate. Speech is part of what differentiates us from animals. Under her rules, I'm limited to the vocabulary of a dog. I can whine at my bowl for food, and I can indicate yes or no by nodding my head.

She stands up and stretches.

"Twat, pets aren't allowed the furniture, unless given explicit permission."

Without waiting for a response, she walks out. A few seconds later, the lights turn off. I was alone in the dark, just as I had been every other time she finished playing with me.

I sit on the floor and feel around my collar and check every link in the chain. Nothing offers the slightest hope. I collapse on the floor, holding my head, and quietly cry. What day is it? What time is it? When will she return? Any second? Hours? Days? I just don't know. God, why is the light switch outside the room? Why doesn't she let me sit on the chair?

Before this, I thought boredom was what I felt when my phone died. I didn't know what the word meant.

There is no light, and the only sounds come from me. I have time. Just time. So much time. How long have I waited? Certainly hours? I'll never know. I can't ask.

Time passes.

I question my fading memories. How can they be real? They feel so soft and flimsy compared to Mistress. I remember every second with Mistress. She is a painful explosion of sensations and emotions. Every moment burns brightly. My body aches from her touch long after she leaves. Dreams. They must be dreams. Do I exist when Mistress is elsewhere? Does anything?

Time passes.

The light suddenly flares into life, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the glare.

Mistress has arrived, she comes with a simple steel-framed bed that she pushes into the center of the room. She smiles cruelly.

"It's time to play!"

Heart suddenly in my throat, I back away from her approach. My back hits the wall, and I slide along, away from her, eyes locked on her flushed face.

Mistress is excited, in more ways than one. Her nipples, clearly visible through her thin tight shirt, are hard. She licks her lips, and I flinch.

She suddenly charges. I scream and run. In my panic, I forget about the collar and run towards the only exit. The chain attached to my collar reaches the end of its length, and I violently slam into the floor.

Her crushing weight lands on my back, knocking the breath out of me.

Mistress twists my wrists up behind me, and a heartbeat later, she has me in a lock. Fuck. I can't escape. The unnatural position stops me cold. Steel bands suddenly click into place around my wrist. Handcuffs. She has handcuffs.

She picks me up and throws me onto the small bed. Hands trapped behind my back, I try to squirm away, but she is on me in a flash. My cold mind stops me from screaming "No" just in time.

I scream in wordless fear as we struggle.

I remember her comment about how much fun raping my ass was, and it gives me strength. I manage to squirm off the bed, scooting and rolling towards the wall. Before I reach it, she picks me up and tosses me back onto the bed. Before I escape, she grabs a leg and uses another set of handcuffs to chain my ankle to the foot of the bed.

I continue to struggle, but the fight is already over. She readily takes my free leg and handcuffs that ankle to the head of the bed.

I'm lying face up, sideways across the narrow width of the bed, hands cuffed behind my back, with my legs spread painfully wide. One ankle cuffed to the foot of the bed, and the other is attached to the head.

With the casual certainty of a victory already won, she slowly walks around the bed. She grins, chest heaving, savoring her triumph.

Roughly, she pulls my dress up over my head. Using a key from her pocket, she unlocks the handcuffs that bind my wrists behind my back long enough to rip my dress off and cast it aside. A moment later, a bra follows. Instead of using the handcuffs to bind my hands behind my back, she fetches another pair and uses them to cuff my wrists just like my ankles.

Mistress stands there, looking down at me. Her eyes drink in every inch of my spread-eagle body. I watch the pleasure on her face with a combination of rage, fear, and embarrassment. I've never had a lover enjoy the sight of my body as much as she is. Of course, back then, I could say no.

Without looking away from my naked body, she pulls out a pocket knife, and with a flick of her wrist, the blade snaps open.

Wide-eyed, I stared at the knife that had appeared so suddenly in her hands. Desperate fear rushes through me, and only my cold mind stops me from saying anything.

Mistress had already derived great pleasure from the suffering she had forced me to endure, and that had been without a blade to slice and cut. Mindlessly, I struggled to escape, twisting and pulling at the metal cuffs that bound me to the bed.

I froze when she ran her blade up my thigh and under my panties. Cold steel pressed lightly against my skin. For a long moment, she paused, enjoying my rising fear.

Abruptly, she slices through the waistband. I squeal with fear. Laughing, she slices through the other side and strips my panties from my body. Folding the blade closed, she slips it back into her pocket with an amused smirk.

I wept in relief.

Mistress smiles down as her fingers explore my helpless body. I close my eyes when she reaches my mons. Without warning, Mistress slaps my breasts, one after another, causing me to cry out.

"Look at me while I rape you!"

Meeting her eyes takes everything I have. She's so happy. Eager and excited. Suddenly gentle, using feather-light touches, her fingers trail up my side and teasing and touching.

Mistress straddles my waist and leans down to nuzzle the curve of my neck. Kissing her way up my neck, she met my lips and slipped her tongue inside. Resisting never occurred to me. This was infinitely better than when she... Compared to last time, this was wonderful.

When she ended our kiss, I felt strangely regretful.

She cupped my breasts, one in each hand, playing with my hardening nipples. With short, hungry licks, she worked over my chest and sucked a nipple into her mouth.

I try to ignore it, but my body reacts anyway.

Master has taken everything from me, and now she's forcing my body to enjoy this rape. One hand reaches my mons again, stroking intimate flesh. A finger slides along my slit. An invading finger curls inside. Another one joins it, and I let out an involuntary moan.

Despair. Anger. Humiliation. Misery. They all flood my mind. Tears drip down my face as I lay there. Her attention moves down. Her careful touch and constant attention have left my body more sensitive than ever before. Ready for a lover's touch. The relentless sensations drive me on. An orgasm is approaching. I bite my lip, trying to ignore her invading fingers and the all-to persistent mouth that worked at my breast.

At first, I successfully held out against her.

My breast falls from her mouth, and her tongue changes its focus to my pussy. Her lips started sucking on my clit, and I knew I had lost. My orgasm hit, and I cry out with pleasure. It is the most intense one I've ever had.

As I crest, everything changes. The hand that had been teasing a nipple ground a thumbnail into it instead. Gentle sucking on my clit turns into painful teeth biting down and pulling. Two gentle fingers exploring my vagina turn into four fingernails grinding into my sensitive labia.

My pleasure turns into pure pain. For several long minutes, nothing changes, neither my screams nor her sadistically painful touch.

The pain ends.

For a moment, nothing happens, but then she kisses me. Her tongue tastes my pussy, but I don't dare resist.

"That was fun, Twat."

"I'd love to keep playing, but I don't have enough time. This time, I'll be gone quite a while."

Gone? I started to panic. Will I be alone in the dark? God, please, anything but that. Chains rattle as I try to sit up. She ignores my struggles and opens a panel in the back wall, one my chain prevents me from reaching. From within, she takes out several bags.

With practiced hands, she hangs several of the bags off the headboard.
While she works on setting things up, I watch with rising alarm. By the time the needle pierces my skin, it's a  welcome distraction.

They're saline bags! How long is she planning on being gone? It must be a long time if she's hooking me up to an IV. I try to remember how long someone can survive on a saline drip. Days? Weeks? Months? I can't remember. My time as a nurse seems so distant, and memories of that time are increasingly foggy.

Only my cold mind keeps me from speaking.

"Okay, that should keep you alive. Probably. Hmm. Yeah, that's good enough."

Mistress walked towards the door, and even the cold part of my mind couldn't stop me from begging.

"Please, don't leave me in the dark. I'll do anything. Please."

I knew I had made a mistake as the words left my mouth. Mistress froze, back suddenly ramrod straight. Even though Mistress is still facing the door, anger radiates off her.

Without turning around, she says, "Originally, I planned on leaving the light on. Not anymore."

Mistress stalked back to the same panel that she pulled the medical supplies from, took out a box, and stomped angrily over to me, scowling all the while.

Mistress forces the ball gag back into my mouth and then holds the box up for me to see. It holds a thousand sewing pins, the kind that's over an inch long with a plastic head.

"When I come back, I'm going to clean you up, and then we'll see how many of these it'll take before I cum."

Mistress placed the box between my bare breasts. She walked out, and a moment later, the lights turned off.

White Room - 04

BreakingI don’t know how much time passed before she returned. Since I wasn’t eatingsolids, I didn’t need to poop. I lost track of how many times I peed. Since Iwas lying across the edge of the bed, and there was a floor drain, that partwasn’t nearly as bad as it sounded. Embarrassing, but beara…

Lynn DarkfallDark Fantasies