Sex Slave

The volume and intensity of Martha's pleas for help increased significantly when Richard started using the crop on her back. Her derriere was, at least, shielded from the punches by a generous amount of padding, but her back was more delicate, and the stinging strikes were peppering her skin. She attempted to evade the crop by turning away from it, but it caught her cleanly across one breast as she did so. Her screams escalated into an agonizing screech, and she started crying even though she was trying so hard to keep her eyes closed out of dread. Richard was aware that the blow to the nipple must have felt like a flame was being applied. But he was also aware that this was not an especially harsh beating; any reasonably trained slave could have endured it in silence without making a peep or a sound of protest. with the exception of that one whack to the already throbbing breast.

But Martha was not a slave at that time. Not even close. She hadn't even started to fathom what it was like to be in pain at that point. However, she would acquire knowledge swiftly. Richard was an enthusiastic and hardworking educator. He smiled at this wordless description of himself and then proceeded to whip her more severely, hitting her in the stomach, her sex, her back, her ass, and her thighs. He continued until she was in tears. Martha found herself compelled to start dancing, shrieking, and leaping as she attempted to dodge the harsh strikes that were hurting her. Richard's strikes got ever more forceful as she sobbed and begged, and he left furious red markings all over the virgin's body. Despite her tears and pleading, this just appeared to encourage Richard to continue his assault.

When he finally came to a halt, Martha was completely drenched in perspiration. She was startled to discover that she had wet herself when she felt a warm trickle of liquid pouring down her leg. She had accidentally wet herself. Even Richard came to the same conclusion. He hissed at me, his voice dripping with contempt as he said, "You dirty pig." He essentially forced her to the mattress, where she was left drenched in her own pee and was left to weep herself to sleep.

As he closed and shut the door behind him, he made a promise to me: "Tomorrow, your true training will begin."

It had been many hours. Martha knew that she must have dozed off because, when she tried to open her eyes, the haze of her dreams caused her to suddenly get confused, and she believed for a second that she was at home in her own comfortable bed. It even smelt like home, and the aroma of baking recalled to memory her mother's warm and cheery kitchen where she used to spend time with her while she was growing up. But the shackles that were on her wrists and the urine-soaked mattress that was under her bare body served as an immediate and terrible reminder that she was not in her own house.

Martha was having trouble sitting up when she saw that a tray had been placed next to her and had a dish towel draped over it. Martha reached out hesitantly and pulled the towel off the table. There were three warm muffins tucked away in the bottom of a basket, along with an empty cup and a little pitcher that smelled like coffee being brewed. Even a little creamer and sugar dish made out of earthenware were included. Martha became aware that she was famished and surprised at the fact that she was even able to think about food despite the fact that she may be killed at any minute.

She had always been a sensible young lady, so she reasoned that she would as well go to her grave well fed as starving. She ate a sizable portion of a muffin as she reached for it. It included fresh blueberries that were baked into a soft and warm bread, and it was really amazing. It's possible that the notion that this may be her last supper contributed to the dish's exceptional flavor. She made the decision to attempt to pour some of the coffee, and she spent a few seconds trying to arrange herself in such a manner that the heavy chain that was hanging between her wrists wouldn't come in the way of her doing so.

When the door opened on its quiet hinges, Martha let out a scream as her chains clanged against the coffee pot, causing the lid to fly off in a little heap on the floor. "I hope your morning is going well, Martha. It seems that you have already located your breakfast. I'm sorry, I didn't want to shock you. Please forgive me." The tall, dark guy entered the room while smiling at Martha, who was now sitting with her knees pulled up in an attempt to conceal the fact that she was nude.

"Last night I was quite impolite, and I neglected to introduce myself to anybody. I am known by the name Steven." He waited for what seemed like an eternity, as if she was going to react with a polite greeting such as "how do you do" or another usual greeting. She did nothing except look at him, her already huge eyes widening even more in response to her terror.

It seemed as if Steven paid almost any attention to the fact that she was bound and nude. They could as well have been holding a tea party for all it seemed like. He crouched down close to the tray, and in a solicitous tone, he said, "Allow me to lend you a hand with that. Do you take sugar? Cream?" His tone became considerably more stern when Martha didn't reply to him "Have you been bitten by a cat? When I talk to you, answer my questions. Keep in mind where you are." This was not a tea party by any means.

As she attempted to respond, Martha's voice began to break. She started again, and this time she said, "Both, please." Steven added the sugar and cream with deftness while he was still kneeling in an easy balancing position. He gave her the cup while stirring the coffee and then handed it to her. She didn't dare deny him. Just like the muffin, the coffee was fantastic, having been freshly prepared and full of flavor. She did her best to steady her shaking hands while appreciatively sipping the beverage.

She dared to say it since he seemed to be so kind and even nice "Obviously, my father has a lot of money. If you need money, I guarantee that I will be able to acquire it for you. -"

He interrupted her while giggling. "You silly little girl! No, we are not interested in financial gain! Don't worry about us; we have more than what we need. We want you! You are our brand new toy, as I'm sure you already know. I am aware that you are not yet used to the concept, but this is now your life! There is no way to undo this. Ever. Forget Evan, forget Mommy and Daddy. Now, Richard and I make up your whole universe. Period. It will be to your advantage to get used to it as quickly as possible."