Welcome to Your Dungeon
Chapter 1: Captivity
Caution: This BDSM Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Mult, Drunk/Drugged, NonConsensual, Rape, Slavery, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, BDSM, Humiliation, Torture, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Caution,
Desc: BDSM Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 1: Captivity - This is a story of a woman who is kidnapped and trained to be the perfect slave and personal attaché. This story will primarily focus on the emotional and mental state of the main character as she is pushed past her breaking point and remolded into something new. This is a heavy trigger warning. This is just the first 5 pages and I'm hoping to do 5 pages a week. There is not a lot of sex in it yet, or that many triggers, but be aware if you keep reading, it will get worse with more updates.
It was hot like always. I can feel the sweat trickling over my bare collar bone, sliding down between the curves of my breasts to disappear from sight under my shirt. My straight black hair stuck to the back of my neck like a barnacle to a ship. The extreme humidity made everything that touched me cling and stick; every curve of my body was plastered with damp cloths or hair. Every time I would try to move it away, make it a little more comfortable, shift it around a bit, the pulling just made it worse somewhere else. And yet, I still did it, every few moments I was pulling it off my back and making it press into the curves of my breasts and under my arms. Or pulling down on one pant leg to have it ride up the other leg and wedge my panties into my crotch. Then I would shift to the other side, and repeat.
As I walked down the street, the sun beaming overhead and the heat rising like waves from the pavement, I caught my reflection in a shop window. I looked dreadful, my makeup had completely run off because of the sweat, my clothes were plastered to me and looked almost see-through because of the humidity, and my hair stuck to my face and neck in an unruly tangle. I watched a bead of sweat run down my forehead, under the bridge of my sunglasses, and drip off the end of my nose. I shook my head at the scowl on my reflections face and turned to continue the trudge toward home. "Eve," I said to myself, "you need to get out of this place."
Every step I took the thin strap on my purse made this ripping sound as it pulled lose then re-stuck to the skin of my shoulder, the sound wore at my nerves like a saw; this walk was driving me insane. It wasn't a long walk either, only about an hour, but in this heat it felt like a lifetime. Of course I could probably cut a few minutes off by cutting down some of the back alleys, not to mention that they are in near constant shadow and probably a bit a cooler. Suddenly the concept of escaping the sun became all-consuming and I pivoted on my heel and headed into the dim maze of alleys.
Being out of the direct sun was a bit cooler, though the closeness of the walls made the humidity feel even more oppressive, especially without a breeze to at least move the air around a bit. But regardless of the problems, it was still better than the open streets, so I headed deeper into the maze in roughly the direction of home.
Home isn't much; it's hard to get the credit for a place when you're only sixteen, especially since I don't have any family to give me any financial support. But I did manage to get a small studio apartment with almost nothing for furniture or decoration, but it has one thing that I absolutely love and cannot live without, air conditioning. The most blessed invention of all time. On days like this I tended to get home, strip down and stand in front of one of the vents. I would turn slowly and let the cold air caress every centimeter of my body. I let it wrap around me like the arms of a cold lover who would tantalize and tease my every recess with long cold fingers, penetrating deeply into my core. Just the thought of the cold air sliding over my naked skin made my nipples harden and press out against my shirt. I was lost entirely in the fantasy of cold air and ecstasy that I hadn't realized I was also lost entirely in the real world.
Standing in front of a dead end alley, I try to remember what way I came to get here, but the only things that were coming back into my mind were images of cold air moving over my naked body like hands giving a cold massage. So I turned around to try to find a way back out to an actual street when I bumped into a very large man in a badly fitting, stained t-shirt and long, olive coloured cargo shorts; it's possible the shorts were actually just pants with a large waist band in them.
"Well, what have we here?" He said in a deep, slow voice. I tried to step past him but he just put out a big meaty hand and blocked my path. "Slow it down little girl, no need to run from me. Do I look dangerous?"
I took a step back and looked up at his face, he was ugly. Cauliflower ears, broken nose, split nostril, deformed bone structure in his skull, covered in scars, missing several teeth, and his jaw looked to have been broken and reset at least a dozen times. This man had been through more fights than anyone has a right to survive. "Not dangerous," I said, trying to sound as defiant as possible, "although stupid and ugly."
I had expected him to get angry and lunge at me, which would give me an opening to slip by, but instead he laughed, loudly. "Well, she's got you pegged for certain," a smaller man said as he stepped out from behind the larger one. Lithe and tense he moved like a cat ready to pounce it's pray, "doesn't she," he finished his statement with a stare that set me on edge and sent a shiver down my spine despite the heat. "So little one, do I look dangerous." His voice had a playful lilt to it.
"Depends," I said, slowly sliding my right hand into my purse, "on what your intentions are."
He smiled like a shark that was trained by the Cheshire Cat, "Oh, come now, intentions have no impact on how dangerous something is." He was slowly walking to my left as he continued speaking, "A lion can intend to leave you alone, yet something that strong and fast is still dangerous. And conversely if it's on the other side of an electric fence, it could intend to eat you, but controlled in that way, it's not dangerous."
He was standing only about three feet from me now. His loose fitting blue t-shirt and bright red shorts clashed against the steel-gray wall to my left that he stood against. "Well," I said, "do you intend to eat me? There is certainly no electric fence here."
"Ahh!" His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree that's caught fire, "So, you admit that I'm dangerous?" I nodded, playing to his ego, trying to relax him and get his focus off me. "No, I'm not going to eat you." I sighed and relaxed a bit when he said that. But in a second he was charging me, pushing himself off the wall for some extra speed. I tried to pull the stun-gun out of my purse but he was too fast, he grabbed my wrist as I brought it up and turned toward him. He pressed on the heel of my palm and used his momentum to carry himself around me where he wedged my arm behind my back, forcing me to drop the stun-gun. He looped his other arm over my left as I tried to step away, holding me in place, painfully. "But I'm not going to let you go either."
His hot breath steamed against my ear as he spoke, "You are a cute little bird, maybe I should eat you." I felt him run his tongue up my earlobe and I shuddered, fighting to keep the bile down as I rolled my head away from him as much as possible.
Apparently my disgust with him was amusing because he started laughing, and in doing so he loosened his grip a bit. See my chance I stomped my heel into his shin and when he shrieked and let go I ran for it. I only made it about three steps before a giant hand closed around my throat, stretching my neck out as all hour fingers pressed in under my chin.
I instinctively grabbed at the hand as he lifted me off the ground, holding me face to face. It was hard to breath. I couldn't think, I couldn't move. My feet flailed uselessly in the air and my fingers clawed at his wrist with the same effect. I was starting to panic, "That was mean," the big man rumbled, his large round eyes staring intently into mine. I tried to speak but could only gasp for some small bits of air that made it past his fingers. "What do you want to do Jack?"
"Turn her toward me," he said, the playful sound gone from his voice. The big man turned his wrist and arm to hold me in front of him, making me face Jack. His leg was bloody where I tore a large piece of skin off with my kick, painful but not permanent. The light in his eyes had moved from flame to raging inferno and his smile had deepened into terrifying sneer. "I think we should inspect the wares before handing her off?" He looked me in the eyes and said, "Right?" with more emphasis than was ever needed.
But it got the result he was looking for; he saw the fear in my eyes well up as I started to struggle again, kicking at him and clawing at the hand holding my neck. But that only lasted for a second before another large hand grabbed my ankles together, turning me a little sideways as he did so. Part of me could not believe how freakishly huge this guy was, especially compared to how small I am.
With all but my hands immobilized by the big guy, I couldn't me at all. I had to keep my hands on the wrist, applying just enough effort to keep air moving into my body. Even with all my strength in my arms I felt myself start to get light headed, it made it hard to recognize what was happening. Jack was undoing my pants and pulling them down to my ankles, panties and all. I watched Jack's eyes slide across my pelvis and down my legs approvingly. He then reached up toward my shirt and I tried feebly to slap his hands away, but I was weaker than I thought, unable to muster any real strength. He batted my hands away and grabbed my collar with both hands and ripped it in two, tearing it down across my stomach.
Even with all my skin exposed I still felt no breeze, but the heat had become more relaxing than simply oppressive. Jacks hands grabbed at my breasts and started squeezing and twisting them. His hands were a different kind of warmth than the air. This heat was more specific, more penetrative, more repulsive than the hot, humid air. His hands traveled down from my breasts to my abs, touching every muscle and ridge that my labored breathing exposed. His touch tickled and pricked at my skin, I tried constantly to worm away, to twist and pull, but my body was no longer responding. And his hands continued to descend.
He shoved a hand between my thighs and rubbed the side of his hand against my loin. Rubbing it back and forth against my clit, I felt a new heat spread from my loins up toward my heart. I tried to breath faster as my heartbeat speed up, but I just ended up gasping more and not actually getting any more air. The heat felt good, but I hated it. I hated that it felt good, it was disgusting and repulsive. My body was disgusting and repulsive for enjoying what he was doing to me. I was disgusting.
"Drop her." Jack said, but I didn't understand it till I hit the ground, unable to properly brace myself my head bounced hard on the concrete. And I rolled onto my stomach, gasping in deep breaths filled with dirt. I tried to push myself up, but my legs were bound by my pants at my ankles and my arms weren't really responding yet. I did manage to roll myself sideways a bit just as Jack walked into my field of vision. "I still owe you a bit of pain for what you did to my leg." I tried again to push myself up, getting my hands underneath me for only a moment before I felt the cold teeth of the stun-gun press into my naked abdomen. Jack, kneeling next to me, said, "This is the payback part," and I heard the click of the stun-guns twin triggers. Suddenly my vision was full of sparks, everything seemed incredibly bright and I was suddenly lying on my side again, curled into the fetal position. Every muscle in my body jumped and twitched and burned in a way I had never felt. I tried to get my body under control but all I could do was flop a bit, I couldn't even scream out at the pain.
Jack still knelt in front of me, "And this," he said, "is just business." I saw his hand reach out and press a blue dermal patch to my neck. Within a moment of the derm's cool touch I felt my body calm down and my eyes get heavy. Another moment after that and I was surrounded by a cool darkness and a sensation of being carried away.
I woke up lying face down, completely naked, on a futon, every inch of me hurt, but especially the back of my neck. The air was incredibly hot, even more so than outside. I was disoriented, confused, I had no idea where I was or what had happened. I was in a dark room, with only a tiny amount of grey ambient light; I touched the bruises on my neck and suddenly remembered the two men in the alley. I touched myself, checking for what was impossible, trying to determine if they had done anything else to me while I was unconscious.
I stood up frantically searching the small room for a door, or a window, or something. Feeling around the walls, all I could determine was that I was in a room about three by three meters. I could not reach the ceiling; I tried to jump but just didn't have the strength. The light was too dim to see how high it was or if there was even a hatch in it. I started yelling for help, but the only sound that came back was my own voice, otherwise the silence was absolute. I continued yelling, again and again until my voice was horse. I banged on the walls and threw the futon across the room. It felt like days, as I screamed and banged and searched and screamed more. But finally I collapsed on the crumpled futon and started crying.
I cried because I was scared, and because I hated myself for getting into this mess, and because I remembered the warm, repulsive joy of when Jack touched me. At that memory I started to feel nauseous, which just made me focus on it more, the memory coming unbidden to my forethoughts, the vivid almost real sensation of warmth and pleasure that crept up my loins, a heat the started spreading through my body again. The nausea intensified as I thought how I must be fucked up to enjoy that. I'm some kind of freak, a monster that wants to get raped. I crawled off the futon and threw up in the corner, then crawled back onto the rumpled futon and cried myself to sleep.
When I woke again there were two ration bags sitting in the middle of the room. The puke in the corner had been cleaned up also. I picked up the bags and looked at them suspiciously. One was labeled drinking water, the other was labeled, "Chicken Flavored Single Meal Pack." I dropped both bags back to the floor. I didn't want to eat anything these people gave to me, regardless of whether or not the packages are sealed. I went back to the futon and curled up on it.
In the dim light and the oppressive heat I tried to think what was going on. I had been kidnapped, that was certain, but why? Slavery was the first thing that came to mind, although slavers usually target young men that can work the orbital factories or the colonial mines. Women were usually only taken to be sold as sex slaves. At the thought I shuddered and curled around myself, remembering the feeling of being touched by Jack. I suddenly heaved again as my body started to respond to feeling, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up, which made my hunger even more intense, and my resolve to not eat even stronger.
After a few minutes of empty dry heaving, the memory of warm pleasure faded from my mind enough for me to resume my chain of thought. It's not likely I was taken as a working slave; I'm too small to be useful. Sex slave is the most likely reason for why I was taken. Another option is that I'm going to be cut up into my component organs and sold out like that. That seems like the best case so far; I'd rather be dead and have my organs and tissues sold on the black market than be made into a simple whore who gets tied down to a bed and fucked till they get to old, ugly, or beaten to be any fun to the customers.
I felt the tears start to rise up again and I quickly tried to chase them away by thinking of other possibilities. Money, not likely, I have no family, no hidden fortune. I work at a small restaurant, I have only a couple friends, all of whom are just as poor and broke as I am.
I pondered that again and again, but I always came back to the same thing, organs or sex slave. I thought back to what Jack had said, "Check out the wares," like I was a piece of meat to be used. It sounded so sexual when he said it, but he might have meant me as just a piece of meat, to be cut up and sold separately. Or as a piece of meat to be tied down or drugged, then fucked over and over again. I felt a familiar heat rise up as images of groups of men raping me came to mind. Disgusted with myself I started heaving again. Soon the exertion made me pass out.
When next I woke the food and water was gone. So, if I don't take what I'm given, I'm not allowed to have it? Am I a child to have only what is specifically given to me? To be punished by having it taken away if I refuse it? My stomach growled with hunger and my throat was raw with thirst.
"Whatever." I said to the empty, dark room. I stood up slowly, tired and hungry. I weakly felt along the walls and floor for cracks or crevices that might betray a hidden door, but found nothing. I rolled the futon into a tube and stood on it but still could not reach the ceiling. Balancing on the roll I carefully jumped as high as I could, which was not very high, but still couldn't reach anything. When I landed on the futon my weakened knees gave out and I collapsed; I fell off the roll and hit my tailbone on the hard floor. I screamed and cried in pain for a while, rolling myself onto my stomach and trying to cover the pain with my hands, grasping at base of my spine while tears rolled down my face and onto the hard floor.
After the pain started to subside I gingerly unrolled the futon while trying to not actually bend down. I laid down face first to go back to sleep; the hunger, boredom, heat, and pain, were too much to resist. I slept again. When I woke I the pain had subsided a bit, although the heat and hunger made it hard to move, but at the same time I was frustrated and restless, board and exhausted, but unable to sleep more. I systematically stated searching the floor and walks for cracks and crevices, really for anything different. After I exhausted that I sat down and yelled for a while, but not as loyally loudly as before. I rolled the futon up and shoved it up against the wall. Using the wall to support myself I tried again to find the ceiling, but even jumping as high as I could I still didn't reach anything. Art last I didn't hurt myself again. I also tried standing the futon roll up and tried to climb it, but it just collapsed under my weight. After a couple attempts I unveiled the futon and feel back asleep. When I woke I did the same thing again: search, yell, and jump at the ceiling. But reach time I spent less time on each task, I didn't yell as loud, or jump as high or search as hard, then I slept again. I did this two more times, growing more and more hungry each time before I finally gave up.
"Hello?" I yelled, "Can anyone hear me?" I listened for a few moments but heard nothing in response. "I'm hungry and thirsty." I sat back down on the futon, surrounded by silence. "Come on!" I yelled, feeling the frustration rise, "You fuckers tried to give me food before! Do it again! Do you want me to die of starvation?" Still no response, but then, I hadn't expected any. I was so hungry and tired I fell back asleep, my yelling haven been too much for my weakened state.
When I woke again I expected to see food, but there wasn't any, the silent dark room was just as empty as it was before. I broke down and started sobbing. "Please," I cried, "I'm sorry I didn't accept your food. I'm sorry, please feed me." I cried till my eyes were dry again and I kept heaving even though there were no more tears in my body. I kept heaving out apologies, pleading for food and water until I fell asleep again.
This time when I woke, there was a pack of food and a bag of water sitting in the middle of the room. I grabbed them and ate them down quickly, squeezing the food past into my mouth and swallowing without even tasting it. I gulped the water down between mouthfuls of ration paste being careful to not waist any. Every drop of water or speck of food that fell from the corner of my mouth I scooped up with a finger and shoved it into my mouth, running my tongue around my finger to make sure I pulled every speck of nutrient rich paste or water off. I then slowly pulled my finger out, sucking in and curling my lips in to make sure every drop of moister stayed in my mouth. I rolled the bags as tight as possible and dragged my fingers down them to make sure they were completely empty; then I dropped them on floor and fell over on the futon, feeling only vaguely better. Within moments I started to feel drowsy and fell asleep without intending too.