Not so Fun Games 2
Life in a dungeon
Cynthia awoke dismally aware of her surroundings, not wanting to accept this wasn't a nightmare. Her eyes focused on the bars of the cage; they were terribly real. She didn't need to touch them to feel the nasty fittings in her body were still there. Her natural bodily functions were under the strangers control meaning her body was going to be used against her.
"No!" she screamed through the gag. "Let me go! Let me out of this damn cage!" There was no-one there to hear the muffled tantrum. She kicked the tiled floor not feeling the pain. Rather, it served to calm the fear fuelled anger.
Well, so be it. She had already concluded the only means of survival was to obey - so that is exactly what she would do. He may control her body but her mind was free and she would let him know when he dared to face her.
This elaborate dungeon was not set-up for fun and games and it looked as though she would be here for some time. To survive this nightmare there was little choice left. She would have to accept and adapt to the situation until, well. "Just think of one day at a time,' she sighed. She told herself to pay attention to what he said and obey quickly.
She scratched a line on the wall hoping it would help keep track of time. Looking at it she worried this was a sign of acceptance, that she was a prisoner with little chance of an early release.
Lying awake she snuggled into the soft bedding that resembled a ball of fluff from a Hamsters cage. She was completely buried in the rags that were a small comfort. A buzzer sounded and she lifted her head. The whir of an electric motor started and she jumped up. A chain began to pull at her mouth so she stumbled to the corner anticipating the dreadful machines action.
He wasn't there! 'It must be on a timer,' she thought. It was the damn machine working her like a puppet. As the plug in her mouth tightened upon the pipe she recognised what was happening. This was to be her breakfast. Knowing what to expect this time it was a little easier taking the rubber pipe into her throat.
The rest of the routine was less traumatic than yesterday. The enema was less thorough too. Perhaps he thought she had been cleaned out enough. Cynthia wanted to cry but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down.
****
He arrived after the morning feed and watering. She tried to stand straight before him as a sign of defiance. 'I'm here and fighting back,' the stance was meant to imply.
"Down on your knees," he said. A cold blast of air made her shiver but she stood straight. Chains tightened without warning. Irresistibly they forced her to the ground. She looked up at him from the floor then hung her head. It was futile to resist. Her body was his.
When he told her to squat on the floor she did. When she obeyed quickly the floor tiles were heated for the rest of the session. Again and again she was put through a series of exercises designed to stretch the body into more flexible positions.
During the day, between feeding times, the stranger arrived unexpectedly forcing her to repeat the moves. Eventually he seemed satisfied she had achieved them to specification, but there was no let up.
As during the feeding times he was absent when a buzzer sounded for her to perform like a monkey in its cage. She was even thinking of it as her cage, where she belonged, her home. A different buzzer announced each move to be performed.
Before the chains could pull her into it she quickly responded. She had learnt this to avoid a cold breeze and gain the small reward of warm tiles. If she performed well a shower became available in a corner of the cage.
At first it had been galling to be controlled by a machine but after awhile she gave in to the inevitable. At least she gained more comfort from obeying quickly with warmth, better tasting soup and small items such as soap. The shower was an immense pleasure when denied so much.
A liquid diet thinned her and the relentless regime of exercise tuned her body. She had become fit with a flexible lean body.
By the second week she realised how low she had sunk. The plug in her pussy had opened and she was poised over a dildo on the floor. She lowered herself until its bulbous head pierced her sex. When he gave permission she pushed down upon the disgusting thing until it penetrated her sex deeply. Without becoming excited she worked at it pushing and pulling until permission was given to extract it.
A buzzer would sound and she pressed her breasts into rubber cups attached to the bars of the cage. There was no choice but stand there with her breasts stuck in the cups while they pulled at her breasts flexing them. For what seemed a long time they sucked and released and sucked her breasts over again. At the end of the cycle the machine powerfully pulled at her nipples, elongating them for along time before letting her go.
At first she thought it was meant to pleasure her, though it never could. Soon she realised with dismay what its purpose was. Gently holding her tender orbs in both hands she sobbed silently.
The rest of her body was obviously under his control. The exercises were designed to allow her to stretch her body into lewd poses. This awful revelation on top of everything else was too much to bear.
She continued to sob at the realisation of how much her body was being reshaped and for why. Her breasts were being plumped up by that damn machine of his. Her nipples were being stretched and made more sensitive. It was difficult to tell but after only two weeks of regular treatment they were already a size larger.
She sat quietly in her nest thinking over what other diabolical transformations to her body were being carried out.
"The feeder!" she cried in astonishment. She had choked on the rubber tube being pushed a little way into her throat. She thought it was used to force feed her. There was no need for without solids she was always hungry and would lap up the liquids greedily. She hadn't noticed it pushing deeper into her throat every day. Now she could swallow it much deeper with ease.
With the choke reaction suppressed she would be able to take a penis right down her throat!
That despicable dildo was obviously a training device, she had known that. She had been strengthening inner muscles on it for a man's penis! What hadn't been obvious was the plug in her anus. She was sure of it now. It had been expanding, only slightly, but it was growing larger. Her little virgin asshole was being opened up for a man.
The weeks progressed until routine allowed her to accept these indignities. Cynthia hardly noticed he was absent when a serried of buzzers put her though the intimate exercises. Like an automaton she worked through them, performing like a well trained animal in its cage.
Each day there was a different timing to the workout. It meant listening attentively to the buzzer for failure to respond was punished. The active day had been shortened too, so she was sleeping and waking at strange hours. Without light or a clock it was difficult to tell the passing of time so she thought four days had elapsed in every two.
Embarrassment from nakedness had disappeared the first day when ideals of privacy had been quickly overtaken by the desire to survive. Gaining small rewards of comfort taught her to obey commands promptly, however demeaning they were.
She lost all inhibitions replacing them with a desire to please. This state of thinking benefited her progress bringing further rewards, which in turn encouraged her descent into a yielding submissive.
After a particularly grueling session she had been rewarded with a shower, soap and shampoo. "Utter bliss!" She would have written this up as a red-letter day in a diary – if she were allowed one.
When displeased with her performance she would be sent to stand in the corner or denied food, heat and light. To her surprise it hurt her pride to suffer these small indignities to such an extent she avoided them by putting more effort into the exercises.
Even though she understood it was helping him train her mind she couldn't avoid pushing herself into performing the degrading tricks to please him. Avoiding the slightest reprimand and gaining the smallest reward, had crushed her into submission.
Thinking many more days had passed than actually had, she gave up hope. The small rewards had her performing with enthusiasm. When the cage door finally opened she wondered what tricks she would have to perform to retain this small token of freedom. Whatever it was she would try her very best to satisfy his demands.
Out of the cage she hesitantly stepped. It was clear the movement would be limited as a thin chain connected the plug in her bottom to the cage. Every movement produced a small clink, which she had grown used to; no longer aware of it. It was fascinating and frightening being out of the cage.
Highly charged feelings of fear and elation charged around in her mind producing physical effects too. A shiver shook her body, as though cold, then a light sweat moistened her skin. It was difficult to balance the few steps she was allowed to take.
With great care she promptly obeyed his commands to sit or stand as ordered. Just a word or a gesture would have her down on her knees with head bent in submission. Sitting back on her haunches with knees splayed outward she was proud over how far she could spread them.
Becoming familiar with the large cavernous room and its contents served to anticipate what might be used on her next. There were nipple clamps of varying pain inducing shape but not one had been used upon her breasts, so far! In fact none of the devices designed to administer pain had been used though there was always the threat of something, always something unsettling in the background that pushed her into an acquiescent state.
A keypad on the wall next to the door had her interest. If the door could be opened, what then, could she escape? Where would she go? Not back to her husband. Both parents had gone and she was an only child. The only relatives were distant and neglected. By now colleagues would have forgotten her.
