It was Rachel's third day in the basement. The light came slanting in through the grimy window high on the cement wall and dust motes danced in the beams. She lay on the bare mattress in the middle of the floor, her dark curls strewn around her. She was naked except for a steel collar around her neck and leather cuffs on both wrists and ankles all held on with padlocks. From her collar a heavy chain snaked off the mattress. through a nearby iron ring bolted to the floor, and over to the wall of the basement where it was padlocked to another ring. Right now there was only enough slack in the chain for her to kneel up on the mattress, not enough to stand or reach the sink and toilet in the corner of the room.
There were cameras around the room watching her. A couple placed on tripods blinked from close positions, other smaller ones were bolted up in the rafters of the basement. The professional looking cameras had red blinking lights, softly pulsing, showing they were watching what was done to her, recording it. She would have known that anyway, however, since the large flatscreen TV in the corner was constantly playing recordings of her debasements, hours of her getting beaten, fucked in every hole, forced into whatever position and sexual act her captor wanted. The first day it had played a series of professionally done BDSM porno videos from a well-known website, but those had been gradually replaced with the record of her days in the basement. At this point there were many hours of her suffering and pleasure to loop. She found herself unable to look away, her fingers drifting to her pussy as she watched her own submission and sexual use. There was nothing else to do in the basement during the long hours when he was not using her but watch herself or other bound, chained girls getting fucked, listening to the moans and cries and orgasms, watch a stiff cock ramming into her own holes or those of others.
The TV turned off and the lights came on, what Rachel had come to think of as the "showtime" lights. Professionally placed, spot, rim, and fill lights on the center stage of her chained naked body on the mattress. She sat up. She knew he would be here momentarily when the lights came on. She got to her knees, facing the door to the basement. Her hands went behind her head, elbows wide, back arched, breasts thrust forward. She spread her knees wide, showing her shaved pussy. She opened her mouth and pushed out her tongue. This was the position he called "welcome home", and what he expected her in whenever he came into the room.
Halfway through the first day in the basement, Rachel had gotten bored, and bratty, and sat crosslegged when he came through the door, refusing to play the game, to wait in "welcome home". He had slapped her then across the face, which somehow instantly brought tears to her eyes and a rush of moisture to her pussy. He had strung her up and given her a fearful belting on her ass, until she was whining and crying apologies into the ball gag in her mouth. He had used pinching clamps on her nipples and shoved a large cruel plug into her anus, and left her hogtied with her arms and thighs and jaw cramping for an hour. When he returned and untied her, she cried again with relief, and found herself worshipping his cock and balls with unfeigned, slavish devotion and vigor, desperate to prove she had learned the lesson and to fend off any more punishment.
There had been more lessons, and more punishment, in the days after that, all of which she had watched recordings of, over and over on the TV after the fact. She wanted to talk to her past self, watching her make mistakes of posture, of brattiness, of formal address, and take the punishments they earned. At this point it was automatic to do what she was told, her body knew what would happen if she didn't. She felt disassociated from her body, it reacted to his commands and desires and touch without conscious thought or input from her mind, just like the girl on the TV with her face.
Kneeling now, presenting herself to him, tits uplifted, legs and mouth open and ready to take his cock, she watched him come through the basement door, and lock it behind him.
"Good girl, Rachel." he said idly as he set a folding chair down next to where she kneeled and sat in front of her. His thick fingers explored her compliant open mouth, tweaked and kneaded a heavy breast, dipped into her shaven pussy. The fingers returned to her mouth and she tasted her wetness, tasted that she was hot for him already, and she knew that he was purposely showing her this. She sucked his fingers, this was the rule, she was to clean her arousal off of him when she was used, and after.
He reached behind her, and locked her wrist cuffs together, then pulled her by her chain into his lap, freeing his stiffening cock and impaling her mouth on it. As he talked to her he fucked her mouth, using her, one hand in her curls and the other with her chain wrapped around it. WIth her hands cuffed behind her and rocked forward on her knees, she had no leverage at all, he was essentially masturbating with her mouth.
"You've been down here for three days, and you've made such great progress. I'm very proud of you. Look at you taking my cock so well, like a good little slave." He pushed her down onto his cock as he said this, forcing it deep into her throat. Rachel gagged around the thickness of him, but did not struggle, looking up at him through tears in her long lashes, trusting him to manage her breath. He shifted himself within the warmth of her throat, reveling in the feeling for long moments, before finally pulling her up enough for Rachel to pull in a breath. He fucked her mouth and throat for a long time then, pulling her off whenever he got too close to coming, shifting her to tongue his shaft and balls while he calmed down. Rachel felt the wetness from her pussy coating her spread thighs, even as her drool pooled on the cement floor beneath her. She loved when he used her like this, like a piece of meat, like a toy, with no regard for her own feelings or comfort. She felt desired, and right, like the best and most perfect of girls, who had driven this man wild to the point that he could not be restrained from pillaging her helpless body.
