Megan struggled to make it to the end of the hallway while balancing the full breakfast tray. Not only had adding her captor's desired amount of creamer brought the coffee's level to the brim of the mug, the chain linking the leather cuffs on her ankles only allowed for about 18 inches of movement. It also would have been easier to hold the tray by the edges, but the chain binding her wrists was even shorter, forcing her to carry the whole thing palm-up in the middle. She stopped and took a few deep breaths through her nose, deciding it was better to take her time and step carefully rather than rush the process and risk spilling anything. The newly minted prisoner knew by now that just one stream of coffee over the side would result in a far worse spanking than mere tardiness.
Eventually, she made it across the carpet and onto the hardwood of the bedroom, where her "master" was sitting upright in bed in his bathrobe and expecting his meal. He briefly glanced up from his iPad, snapped his fingers and motioned toward the night stand, then resumed scrolling through his news feed. Megan shuffled over to the edge of the king-size and delicately placed the tray on the stand.
"Very good, kitten."
She stood there quietly and stared down at the floor while he took the first few bites of scrambled eggs. The dish turned out better than expected: fluffy and well-mixed, with just the right amount of pepper on top. For a suburbanite brat, this new slave was a surprisingly good cook, and as much as he enjoyed having his own sexy chef, he had also been looking for an excuse to punish her and hoped a botched meal might give him one. Then again, her ass cheeks still showed a few red marks leftover from earlier, so perhaps another round of caning at this point would be overkill.
Master reached over to the chain that connected Megan's collar to the leather harness buckled around her stomach and pulled her closer with a quick yank. She perked her head up immediately and waited nervously for his next command.
"Still feel that?" he asked, tickling around her panties and pinching her ass. "From our little mishap this morning?"
"Mhhmm." Megan nodded. A large silicon ball secured into her mouth limited her options for communication to nodding, shaking her head, mumbling and pleading with her eyes. The straps were uncomfortably tight, but what was even more frustrating was the added chin strap; a four-inch piece of leather that helped guarantee she couldn't maneuver her jaw to spit the gag out.
"Good. Maybe you'll remember it next time you're thinking about misbehaving." He gave one of her welts a light smack.
She winced and nodded again, too busy fighting back tears to even try and speak.
"We'll see. Now go tidy up the bathroom." He ordered with another snap.
Megan obediently trotted off to clean the mess he left during his shower. Not exactly fun, but any step out of line resulted in corporal punishment, and his preferred method was forcing her to kneel and lashing her bottom with either a black cane or leather paddle. That morning had been no exception: he uncuffed her from the bed after his alarm went off and took her to the bathroom for her toilet break. While she was washing up, he fondled her breast and pinched the nipple, pushing her to growl "fuck you" and try running away. She made it one step before he caught her, of course, and thirty seconds later she was face-down with his knee digging into the small of her back and his instrument of pain raining hell on the skin of her backside. When finished, he let her lay in the fetal position, sobbing, and took his time binding and gagging her.
The man demanded to be referred to as "master" and, even more nauseating, addressed as "daddy". Calling him anything other than a long string of curses took every bit of willpower, but it was obvious that agitating him would only make things worse. After a Friday night and full Saturday of sadistic torture, she decided to just go through the motions of this sick game, hoping it would create the illusion of docility and present an opportunity for escape once her captors let their guard down. Doing whatever he said seemed like a good place to start, so she pressed on.
Megan could bend over, but her hands couldn't reach more than 12 inches past her torso; her "master" had ensured that when he shackled them to the harness. She was forced to squat as low as possible just to pick the towels up from the floor, and hanging them back on the towel rack proved to be a whole other burden. It was incredibly frustrating how difficult such simple tasks had become. Prior to this hellish weekend, she had been a dean's list student who successfully balanced a 12-credit semester with a job as a sales associate. Suddenly, she was hardly able to do the basic house work that her "masters" forced, with both hands and feet restrained, and beaten if anything went wrong.
On top of that, her boyfriend Austin and best friend Gabby were getting similar treatment in some other wing of the mansion. She hadn't seen them since afternoon of the day before, when all three of them were tied up, gagged and tormented in the living room for several hours before being hauled off to separate corners of the property for further abuse. Their captors kept referring to it as "training", though none of the unfortunate victims could have fathomed what kind of nightmarish future they were being trained for.
The thought of her friends being hurt made her want to cry, as did looking into the bathroom mirror and being reminded of her new reality as somebody's prisoner. Bondage gear she had only seen in internet porn and a few adult boutiques was now gripping her ankles, waist, wrists and neck in the form of black, padded cuffs with silver rings that were connected by chains. Whereas the collar was clasped around her neck purely out of cruelty, the ball gag served the function of keeping her quiet. She hated both how it looked and how it felt; the way the sphere forced her cheeks to puff out was degrading, and the material was quite uncomfortable on her jaw.
Except for the thin area covered by lace panties, her lower body was naked and exposed for anyone to see, including her bare butt and the injuries it bore. She still wore her aqua-green sorority t-shirt, which spared her the discomfort of being completely topless in front of her captors and now sported an embarrassing saliva stain around the neckline. Being unable to control her drooling was another thing she hated about the gag, besides the obvious part about being unable to speak.
This visual aid strengthened her resolve to get the hell out of there no matter what it took, but in the meantime all she could do was avoid punishment. The toilet didn't need any attention, which gave Megan some much-needed relief, but everything else did. She straightened the floor mats with her toes, awkwardly tossed one towel back onto the rack, organized all the grooming products scattered around the sink, then used another dropped towel to dab up the puddles left on the counter.
Master walked in just as she was finishing, presumably done with his breakfast. He was a fairly muscular man of about six feet, with sandy brown hair and a square face that helped him qualify as exceptionally attractive in the everyday world, though the enslaved people exposed to his true personality would have begged to differ.
"It's nice to see you're learning, kitten." He said upon surveying the room. "Certainly much better behaved than you were yesterday, aren't you?"
"Yecchh ayyee." Her best attempt at 'Yes, Daddy' was rendered unintelligible by the gag, but sufficient for Master.
"Maybe it's time for your treat."
Megan's stomach turned at the thought of what that could mean. The man smirked, recognizing the disgust in her expression, and nudged her to face the mirror.
"But first, there's just more thing..." He rubbed her shoulders for a minute then, maintaining a grip on her right arm, stroked her thick black hair and tucked it behind her ears with the other hand. She stood stone still and kept her composure, as much as she hated this sudden, bizarre gesture of affection. "I thought this'd be a cute piece to go along with your new persona."
He presented her with a hair band, only this was a custom one: pink-and-black cat ears made of felt adorned the top. She cringed and met his gaze in the reflection, as if to ask "Seriously?"
"Just try it on." He said. "You need to keep your hair out of your face, anyway."
He affixed it to her head gently enough, but she couldn't get over the humiliation of it all. There is a major difference between trying out a fetish accessory to go with a sexy costume on Halloween or use in bedroom roleplay and being dressed up like an inanimate doll, and the latter simply felt violating. She loathed this whole "kitten" business anyway; not only did she have no desire to take on a cat 'persona' (as he put it), but the way he kept saying it was so unnerving and possessive.
"See? I'd say that really goes with the rest of your...outfit." He paused to caress her hips and playfully rattle the chains on her harness.
Master took a moment to admire his newest, picturesque handiwork. The restraints he had picked out hugged her slim figure and complimented that pale, smooth skin very well, and would leave no chaffing. Each piece was plenty tight, but nothing severe enough to dig into the skin or cut off circulation. Though it wasn't just good looks and tasteful bondage that made her so appealing; it was the way she struggled against it and looked at him with those beautiful green eyes that let him know she was an exceptional find.
A more impulsive man would have tossed her over one shoulder, taken her out to the bed and fucked her all morning, especially one as aroused as he was, but he knew better. Guys like Chris and Sully had their own methods, which they were surely using on the girl's blonde friend, and that works fine if all you want to do is stun your slaves into submission. Master took a more skilled, long term approach, however, one that takes time and requires finesse, not just brutality. To truly break a slave, you must create an incentive to submit and serve other than fear. For Megan, he knew exactly how to begin such a process: he would tease her and deny her orgasms until she craved them more than she did freedom. There would be far more additional training in the months to come, but for the time being it was best to start out simple and have some fun along the way.
"Tell me, kitten..." He began teasing her hair, twisting a strand here and there between fingers. "Was that boyfriend of yours taking good care of you? What was his name again?"
"Ooffnnin?" She spoke meekly.
"Whatever." Master sneered. "My colleagues and I have just been calling him 'bitch boy', and I think that'll stick. Anyway, Katelyn...you remember her, right?"
She shuddered and nodded. That was the one woman in the crew of slavers who broke into the house on Friday night, and she was the most outright sadistic of them all. Megan had felt the brunt of this the day before, when the evil bitch hogtied her on a couch then spent the next hour either choking her or testing tasers out on her helpless body. After that was over and Megan lay their gasping for breath and reeling from the multiple shocks, Katelyn unbuttoned her shorts and molested her in front of everybody, even teasing the idea of raping her with a strap-on. It was only when Austin's roaring protests of "Mmmpphh" got her attention that she decided to forget about the girl and focus all her perverse energy on him.
"That's what I thought. Not many people forget her." Master continued, "Like I was saying, Katelyn texted me this morning about the fun she was having with bitch boy over in the game room."
Megan let out a long whine, not wanting to believe it.
"She took all his measurements." Master said, ignoring her plight. "I gotta say, doesn't sound like his cock is anything to brag about. She's putting it to good use, though."
It was becoming damn near impossible to act calm, and that last comment of his truly jolted her. She mewled into her gag and tried jerking away from him.
"Shut up." He grabbed the back of her collar and twisted her head rightward, forcing her to look at him. "Unless you want another spanking. Just let me know if you like that, 'cause I sure as hell do."
Remembering her former resolution and considering his threat, she took a few deep breaths and stopped resisting his hold.
"You'd better get used to this, kitten." He hissed. "This is your life now, and it's going to be really painful unless you do what you're told. Don't believe me?"
He backhanded her across the cheek before she could answer.
