It's a Tuesday morning, not that Luna was aware of that distinction or cared about the days of the week, of course. Still, Luna understood that a day when she spends many hours in sensory deprivation and in heavy bondage meant that master Calen has left the house to live out a part of life beyond this house, a part of life no longer relevant to her.
On such a day, the fuckdoll was usually bound in one of two configurations, either in a straitjacket and spreader bars, or wrapped in a brutally tight sleepsack and secured to bench using a dozen straps. Today was a more forgiving straitjacket day for Luna. A blinding latex hood and foam earplugs meant that Luna could not sense how much time had passed when Calen returned from work, the slamming of the garage door, his footsteps down the stairs, and the door of their playroom creaking opening could not be heard by her.
Calen had inherited from his parents a considerable fortune in a chemical manufacturing business. He didn't necessarily need to work, but still chose to swing by the office once or two every week as a major shareholder, mostly to keep himself busy outside the house and in touch with the 'real world'. Aside from these few hours in the city, he could devote almost all his time in his beautiful suburban home, in company with his brainwashed slavegirl and his ever-evolving ideas of perversions. Indeed, the drive back home was usually time for Calen's mind to dwell on new routines of torment he might apply on Luna. The master was in no rush upon returning home, he swapped the stuffy workwear for sweatpants and a linen t-shirt before heading down to the narrow staircase leading down to what was originally a basement cinema room.
The now 23-year-old slave (Calen remembered her birthday was last Friday) lay still in the middle of the four-poster bed, with all four limbs firmly restrained. A mass of sturdy canvas and steel buckles that was her straitjacket hugged Luna's torso snugly and fixed her arms in place. Instead of crotch straps, this particular straitjacket featured straps that extended down her hips and looped around her thighs, so there was no chance that the desperate slut could grind her unshielded cunt against a strap. Hidden beneath the straitjacket, a beautiful long-line corset firmly squeezed Luna's waist down to a literally breathtaking 21 inches, its sturdy steel boning concealed behind delicate white satin and lace. Her ankles were parted by a spreader bar, again ensured she could not rub her greedy cunt against anything when the chastity belt was absent. Foam earplugs combined with a blindfold took away her senses, blurring the passage of these six monotonous hours.
Luna cleared her throat upon sensing her master's touch as Calen worked to unclip the spreader bar cuffs, "Good afternoon master, welcome home.", her voice slightly raspy from the hours gone without a sip of water. Calen does not bother to reply to the still deafened Luna, and moved on to remove the rest of her restraints. The slavegirl, now fairly well trained and familiar with her routines, sat up on the bed as soon as the spreader bar came off to help Calen with easier access to her straitjackets. A series of buckles were undone to free the sleeves, followed by the heavy-duty zipper across the back of the garment. Then the earplugs and blindfolds came off, her now fully uncovered face a pleasant sight for Calen after a monotonous day in the office. With her sharp, elegant jawlines and bright grey eyes, her features gave off a slightly arrogant looking 'ice-princess' flair even though her current position could not possibly be more submissive.
"Get to your collaring position, be quick." Calen commanded, waving his hand towards the floor.
She moved as instructed into a position convenient for Calen to place the collar around her neck; kneeling down with her legs widely parted, body strained forward and her hands holding her hair clear of her neck. From the bedside table he fetched her collar, a finely made two-inch wide band of thick red leather dotted with half a dozen silver D-rings and a meter-long chain leash dangling from the front.
The sturdy collar went around Luna's neck, snug enough to be in contact with her skin from all sides yet not too tight to make breathing an excessively laborious affair. With her leash in one hand, Calen walked out of the cellar and back upstairs, he walked, she crawled behind, her knees and elbows ached against the hardwood floor. A harsh tug of the leash signalled Luna to stand up. Now intimately familiar with every little procedure of control that made up her daily routine, she parted her legs widely and clasped her hands behind her head, ready to be locked back into her chastity belt. Even the slight noise produced by the belt being picked up from the shelf was enough to make Luna's desperate, helpless cunt clench onto nothingness. The chastity belt was a custom-made technological marvel, a device that has transformed her into a helpless nymphomaniac - pumped full of sexual tensions and needs, without any hope of release.
The device was shaped like a strappy G-string thong. The primary component to the front was a triangular panel of steel and carbon fibre, curved so as to snugly conform to her
mons.
At the lowermost point of this piece, the firm carbon fibre structure split into two curved bands, framing her meaty cheeks and leaving access to her asshole unobstructed. A series of straps, made of auxetic materials that would tighten in response to any attempts at pulling them away, encircled Luna's corseted waistline and secured the entire contraption in place. From the inner face of the shield grew two protrusions. The small, thin catheter probe was there partly for the sake of practicality, as peeing would've been a messy affair with the belt wrapped tightly over her cunt, but also for Calen to control another intimate aspect of Luna's bodily autonomy. The belt also featured a built-in. Made of soft silicone and modest in size, but with its shaft covered in dozens of small spiky protrusions. It was enough to provide a constantly frustrating source of arousal, but without running the risks of an orgasm or ruin the tightness of her cunt after prolonged use.
Considering the risks of inserting something into Luna's urethra, Calen took care to sanitize the catheter probe with alcohol before rinsing it with distilled water. The intrusion of the textured dildo into her sensitive pussy was bearable enough, the discomfort from the catheter probe was more difficult to accept even after five months. A slight whimper of pain escaped her as Calen pushed forward, driving both the dildo and the catheter deep into Luna, sealing her cunt behind the solid panel of the belt. Next, Calen guided the waist straps in place, which ran from the top of the rear bands into slots awaiting at the corners of the forward panel. Magnetic locking pins inside these slots ensured the belt only came off with a combined fingerprint and password authentication from Calen's phone.
Satisfied with the security ensured by the chastity belt, Calen ordered Luna to return on all fours once more. "Go grab a snack to eat and drink plenty of water too." After all, a better half of the day has passed since Luna had anything to drink or eat. "Then get dressed in your school uniform and come join me in the gym once you're done, take your time."
"Yes my master." The fuckdoll nodded and crawled swiftly. Prohibited from walking upright under most circumstances, Luna had become rather proficient at moving around on all fours.
Luna crawled back to her master twenty minutes later dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform, not a slutty imitation by the way, but the actual uniform of a local Anglican high school, made perverse once worn on Luna's grown body
The white shirt, emblazoned the school's crest on the front pocket, was a size too small for Luna's and her augmented 34E breasts, which forced her to leave the two topmost buttons undone. A grey and red plait skirt was again deliberately purchased a size smaller and sat too high around Luna's corseted waist, leaving much of her thighs exposed. The choice of hosiery deviated from the school requirements, rather than the demure navy-blue tights, she wore sheer thigh highs stockings to accentuate her long, slender legs. Her hair, now almost reaching her waist in length, were made into twin tight French braid, which could also function as sturdy handlebars to assist in a rough throatfucking.
After a brief inspection of the 'defiled innocence' themed uniform, Calen allowed Luna to stand upright, and the two headed into the home gym. The since converted spare bedroom held an exercise bike in one corner, a cable machine in another, and a few pairs of dumbbells. Luna hopped on the exercise bike and while Calen fiddled with the settings.
"Let's start with twenty-five minutes at level 13, you know the consequences if that number falls below 35rpm don't you?" Calen spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Luna was of course well aware. The bike would beep once every five seconds if she could not keep up her pace; every beep warranted one strike from the dreaded leather crop, fifteen beeps or more, however, meant spending hours suspended in a brutal hogtie while Calen used a cattle prod to fry all her sensitive spots until it ran out of battery.
Calen left the slave to her own device while he went for the weights. Half an hour later, his slutty schoolgirl slave had become a sweaty, wheezing mess. Her heroic efforts made more difficult by the constriction of her corset and the uncomfortable presence of the dildo and catheter locked inside her, a presence which was felt keenly with every push of her hips. The master mercifully granted Luna with a ten-minute break before Luna was directed towards her dumbbell sets. The threat of a long bamboo cane wielded by Calen motivating her to keep up a good posture and pace through the exercises aimed at delivering her toned thighs and a delectable bubble butt.
In the end, Luna counted herself lucky to have completed the workout having earnt six beeps on the exercise bike and a handful of strikes from the bamboo cane as she pushed through sets of walking lunges and squats.
"Go grab a towel and wipe yourself dry, then go wait for me in the living room." Calen demanded.
"Yes, my master, right away."
Calen returned to his slavegirl about 30 minutes later, having showered but not dressed himself. He found Luna in her standard resting position, kneeling on the floor with her legs widely parted, hands resting atop her thighs, chest thrust forward to present her cleavage, and her head looking downwards in submission. In the corner of her vision, Luna caught a delightful sight, her master's taunt, naked body, his delicious cock already semi-erect, waiting to be worshipped. It was enough to trigger a new wave of heated tensions from her desperate cunt, clenching helplessly against the inadequate little dildo locked inside her.
Calen held a pair of sturdy, leather wrist cuffs in his hands, "Arms behind your back now, you little whore." He applied the cuffs, and linked them together with a clip. Calen has found it much easier to throatfuck his fucktoy with her arms out of the way, so handcuffs or an armbinder are now the standard items to be worn whenever he sought to use Luna orally.
A wolfish grin grew on Calen as he sat down on the sofa while Luna shuffled forward slightly, her lips parted, her tongue stuck outward lewdly.
