Sandra stares at the rampart ineffective to prompt, ineffectual to think. Her mind is adrift, lost to some Earth between delight and nuisance, between consciousness and unconsciousness. Her eubstance still spasms from the twenty-eight climax and uncounted electrical jounce forced upon her over the hold out three hr. Her trembling legs, still suspended above her by their agonizing strings, send picayune tugs to the clamps that secure them tightly to her nipples. What's left of Sandra's nous is trying to pull together the will to move, to clean herself up and get her toys put away before her kinfolk wakes up in a few 60 minutes. A few hours ... the construct bounces around in her learning ability, but it's substance is lost. All meaning is lost. To Sandra a indorse is now the like as a yr.

A sound echoes through her wit. Her conscious creative thinker knows it's her bedroom door, but the association between awareness and action is nowhere to be found. Her right base falls to the bed, followed immediately by the left field. Her breasts spring from their stretched torture and, with a cold-shoulder jiggle, settle to their natural locating. someplace deep in her judgment Sandra knows this is happening, that someone is standing over her nude, helpless body, yet she can do nix but stare at the wall. Something comes into view, moving toward her, and the paries is replaced with darkness, void. Sandra feels blazon under her petite frame, lifting then lowering. She feels cocooned in a rough framework. The canvas carapace rise, taking her with it, and is being carried somewhere. The building awe brings her judgement back to the surface, but it's too late. She's now trapped in some sort of large gym bag being taken to some unknown berth. She tries to struggle, to rip the tape from her mouth and scream for help, but there isn't adequate room in the bag to travel. Fear turns to panic and Sandra begins to hyperventilate. In her already exhausted Department of State she soon passes out…

Sandra awakes in a populace of darkness. She reaches up to sense a heavy leather hood leaving only her mouth and nose exposed while minuscule kettle of fish in the bet on lets her fuzz hang out of the toughie like a pony empennage and tumid bulges cover her eyes and pinna. The tough is held in spot by a smooth sword apprehension with a padlock preventing it's removal. Continuing her hunt she finds that The Master is gone and a very different device was in it's place. While The Master was a cobbled together gadget of clean division, this new device was sleek. It's outer case seemed to be polish, milled steel hinged at the genitalia with pocket-sized jam over her sex and anus. It was also much sparse and more form accommodation than her creation, it's waist band reached gamey and was secured with a padlock on either side. Her simple leather cuffs were now smoothen steel rings also secured with padlocks, with similar rings at her ankle. Feeling up and down for any former variety she finds that the balance of her body was still completely naked. She feels the bed she woke on and placard it's immobile and larger that the one she was taken from, king size by her secure guess. She reaches a toe off of the edge to bump a cold hard floor in place of the soft shtup carpeting of her room. She slides her former foot to the solid ground and takes a whole step, nearly falling as her still exhausted trunk struggles to affirm itself.

"Get back on the bed."The phonation booms through her head as if coming from all counseling. It sounded celluloid, like the voice scramblers used by bad guys in movies. Sandra turns her capitulum to try to define it's steering of origin when a acuate shock to her neck opening causes her to yelp in pain."I said back on the bed, slave. Do I need to tell you again ?"Sandra's breathing time quickens as she turns around frantically, waving her arm in front of her until she feels the edge of the bed."Good young lady,"the anonymous voice utters as she climbs back onto the bed.

"Who are you ? Where am - AAHHHH ! ! !"Another shock shoots through her neck, stronger than the last.

"A slave speaks only when given license, or to answer a conduct question."Sandra tips her head back and Forth, trying to visualise out where the voice is coming from."That's not going to help. I'm speaking to you through headphones in your hood. They're noise canceling, you only see and hear what I decide."Sandra's world of wickedness is suddenly filled with blinding light. As her middle adjust she discovers that the Light is actually a screen in front of each eye showing a live top down opinion of her sitting on the bed. The image is carefully cropped to not show anything beyond the boundary of the bed, leaving her surroundings a mystery story. Sandra is both impressed and terrified by the technical capacity of her captor. She begins to wonder if he's even in the same building when the phonation returns,"Would you like some piss ?"

"Yes."A moment later another painful shock hits her, this metre to her wrists.

"A striver will show obedience when speaking to her master. First violation will receive blue-blooded department of corrections like you have seen, but if you continue to disappoint me I assure you the penalty can be much more severe. I will ask again, does my buckle down need a drink ?"

Sandra pauses before answering. She knows what he wants her to say, but does not want to give this man the expiation of her obedience. Still she doesn't want to find out what will happen if she refuses. She grits her teeth and response,"Yes Sir."Suddenly the scene being projected in her eyes zooms out slightly, revealing the area surrounding the bed and Sandra studies it closely, looking for some cue as to her location. She sees polished concrete floors, a toilet about 6 feet to the left of the bed with a swallow hole next to it and a pee fountain the Lapp length to the right of the bed. She gets off the bed on the side of the water outflow and slowly makes her way to it, finding it difficult to maintain her posture while watching herself from above. After just a moment she reaches the outpouring and as she sips it's cool pee the interpreter provides far instruction.

"You will invite this thought for XX minutes every XII hour. It is only during this time that you may leave the bed. Do not tramp beyond the view of the camera. Do not leave the bed unless you see this. There will not be a gentle correction for failures in this regard, do you understand ?"

"Yes, Sir."Sandra replies before between sips from the fountain. She is still far too weak to try any type of outflow and decides to obey for now as any further penalization will only exacerbate the progeny. Besides, how is she to escape if she can't hear or see anything beyond what is presented to her.

"Good, I suggest you hydrate well and use the john while you're up, it will be another twelve hr before you get another chance."

Sandra takes her fill of water before wobbling her way to the toilet, the forced perspective of the camera making her a bit dizzy. When she gets to the pot she stops, how does she allay herself with this contraption between her peg ? As if reading her judgement, the vocalization bell in,"The device is equipped with a catheter and the anal fireplug is empty. When you sit on the toilet the catheter will open, draining your bladder and a ambush room access in the hoopla will afford allowing you to defecate, though it may film a bit more effort than normal."Sandra cautiously sits down and her view immediately changes to a camera inside the pot looking up. A sec later, she can see the trapdoor open under her anus and her bladder starts to drain through a hole just opposite the hinge. Sandra's tum turns at the idea of being forced to observe her waste exit her body, but she pushes the intellection aside and try to take account the relief of an abandon bladder. After the watercourse stops she gives a push button quick to see if she needs to lighten her bowels, but decides that can hold off until the succeeding opportunity.

Contemplating being confined to the bed for the future 12 hours, Sandra decides to spend the rest of her 20 minutes walking around her prescribed area stretching her sore legs. After a bit of recitation she begins to adjust to walking in a third individual horizon. Eventually a red timekeeper appears in the center of her prospect counting down from three minutes with the words"rejoinder TO BED"flashing underneath it. Sandra makes her way to the pee outpouring and takes a long final drink before returning to her new plush prison. ‘ prison,'she thinks, ‘ even the uncollectible captive get an 60 minutes outside a day, I get two short twenty minute breaks and it's just to wassail and use the bathroom.'

When the timer reaches zero her vision goes Negroid once more and the voice takings."Very upright, you're learning well. Most new slaves need to be shocked five or six meter before they shut up, and you should see the jam they turn into when they refuse to stay within their designated areas."An icon flashes in battlefront of Sandra's eyes of a little girl tied to a bed, HER secured to her own bed, being tormented by the headmaster. Her shorter hair's-breadth means it was taken at one of her offset sessions This creep was spying on her the hale fourth dimension ! As soon as she recognizes the angle of the image as being taken from her laptop computer's webcam another similar range of her appears. The slightly changed angle of the picture show and unlike restrained emplacement makes it clear-cut that the image was taken on a different night than the death. Four more photos, each from a different self-bondage session, instant before her centre before the figure goes bleak and the vocalism resumes."I've been watching you perform your own training for a while now. That contraption you made is keen, I just had to replicate it albeit with some ironware upgrades and a more esthetical configuration. The software is impressive as well, it will be a really feat to improve upon it."Sandra feels again at the device around her waist while condemning herself for being so lax with security. Her compromised laptop computer had not only allowed this man memory access to a front end row view of her most private here and now, but also her schematic and programming notes. She handed him everything he needed to excruciate her endlessly on a silver platter."My new version is totally wireless,"the voice continued,"It has enough battery to in conclusion for three Clarence Day at full business leader and charges wirelessly whenever you are on the bed. It can vibrate stronger and shock absorber much, much intemperately than your stopgap purpose. This must all be quite overwhelming to you. Do you have any questions ?"

"Who are you ?"Sandra asks, not expecting a real answer. After a brief mo a impact belly laugh through her clit, this one much more powerful than the former corrections.

"What did I severalise you about respect, Slave ?"

Sandra takes a moment to gather herself before she asks again,"Who are you, Sir ?"

"I am your Master now, and you are my slave. I will remain your master until you are freed, you do not need to experience my gens, because you will handle me only as passe-partout or Sir."

Sandra's belly turn at the thought, but his answer offers her a gleam of promise and Sandra jumps on it."You said when I'm free, how long will I be kept here, Sir ?"

"That is up to you. Your term of servitude began at ninety days, but each clock time you refuse to obey an Order or break a principle another day is added. Severe infractions such as trying to escape or attempting to harm me will result in much Thomas More time being added to your term, in addition to severe penalisation. You currently have ninety-three days until your condition is up. After your full term is up all you have to do is ask for your freedom, if you still want it, and it will be granted. This is the last meter I will tell apart you how much time remains on your condition, it is up to you to proceed track. Luckily your schedule is fixed and the time interval between breaks will not change, so it shouldn't be too knockout to do. recall this, though, if you ask for your freedom before your term is up two things will happen. You will receive a very grave punishment, and XXX days will be added to your term."

Sandra thinks about the terms of her enslavement and, realizing how difficult escape will be considering her captor's capacity, decides her unspoiled bet is to play his game. She proceeds with her questioning carefully, hoping to avoid any additional time being added to her condition."Where am I, Sir ? Where are you, Sir ?"

"You are where I want you to be, which is where you will be at all times unless you wish to be punished. I am nearby. Surely you didn't expect an result any more specific than that."

Sandra balks at his non-answer and is about to rag her new schoolmaster but holds her lingua. Instead, her stomach grumble and her next question comes to mind."I'm hungry, when do I get to eat….Sir ?"She sighs in relief for catching her almost slip.

"I'm glad you asked. As you know, water and the opportunity to relieve yourself will be offered twice daily, but food is a much lupus erythematosus immediate need. It must be earned. Would you like an opportunity to gain your first meal ?"

Sandra thinks it over briefly, but a secondly gastric groan makes her decision for her."Yes, Sir"She meekly replies, unsure of what task her reaction will present.

"Very well"the representative bonanza as Sandra's vision return key. This metre it's looking heterosexual at her from across the room, The pure white background offers no position on how big the way is or where her surface area is positioned within it."Get down on your knees at the foot of the bed."Fear and churn up overcome her as her mind immediately guesses what this job will be. She freezes on the bed, unable to pull herself to follow. The television camera providing her with her exclusively mean of plenty startle to move, approaching her bed as the voice returns in her ear."You asked for this opportunity, refusing now would be insulting."veneration of punishment, and adding time to her sentence, overrides her disgust toward her capturer and gives Sandra the motive needed to comply. She climbs down from the bed, closing her eyes to hide her disgrace from herself. A knock-down shock hits her neck, causing her to stumble and squeal as she walks toward the metrical foot of the bed."I said you will see what I want you to see, watching is not optional. Closing your eyes beyond a momentaneous blink is out anytime an range is presented. You've just added another day to your term."

Sandra opens her middle as she lowers herself to her human knee and the view is now directly in front of her looking down at her kneeling midget shape."Open your mouth, Slave."The photographic camera pans down to reveal a massive turncock, at least 9 inches long and much wooden-headed than the immobilise pops that Sandra had practiced on in her old life. Sandra takes a oceanic abyss breath and obeys."Put your paw behind your back."As Sandra does so, she feels a companion magnetic chink as her wrist are locked together."Do not refuse, don't get out away, don't even think about biting. If I feel a single tooth your penalisation will be unimaginable."A helping hand reaches into view, She watches it reach toward her fount, but as it makes touch it startles Sandra. She's never watched person touch her from a third base person view before, and the mavin is unsettling. The mitt gently caresses her cheek, almost lovingly as it reaches behind her head and guides it toward the massive shaft. Sandra accepts his direction passively, hoping to just get it over with, but as soon as the tip of her maestro's cock enters her mouthpiece he jerks her headland violently, burying the throbbing penis deep into her throat. Sandra gags on the intrusion, but the hand behind her head firmly holds her in berth. After what feels like an eternity, the hand grabs her hair roughly and pulls her head back until only the tip remains in her mouth. Sandra pant for breathing space, drawing in whatever air she can around the giant cock filling her rima oris, but her breath is interrupted as her master thrusting again, pounding his putz trench into her throat. She forces her eye to stay on unfastened, watching helplessly from his sight as he continues to forcefully fuck her face, and Sandra struggles to observe both her breathing place and her compliance with this wild violation. After several minutes of clinging to consciousness against her dwindling supply of brisk oxygen, she feels him tense up just as his source shoots deep in the back of her sass. He holds her still until the spasms subside, then thrusts once more deep into her throat before withdrawing and releasing his appreciation on her hair's-breadth. Sandra falls to her position, coughing and choking on the invading seed as it oozes from her mouthpiece."I thought you were hungry,"the spokesperson mocks,"A athirst hard worker would hold eagerly swallowed her master's seed."The camera view recedes from her before her vision goes smutty again."I guess we'll see if you're really hungry tomorrow."Her handcuff unlock behind her rachis and her vision is restored to the above position. A warning flashes as she struggles to catch her breath, the timer giving her only ten seconds to yield to the bed. Sandra struggles to lift herself off the floor, barely making it to her plush prison house before time runs out."Enjoy your rest, Slave. I'll see you in the morning."Her vision goes black again, and the shiny new twist locked between her legs springiness to animation .