Author's note: This story continues to be very dark. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Chapter 4 - Day 24 - Serving her Owner
So far every week since she'd been abducted had been a different sort of game for Sarah. That her mind trivialized it to that degree was difficult for her sometimes, but she explained it away as some sort of bizarre coping mechanism. Capture bonding, it turned out, was a hell of a drug. As far as games went, though, this week had been one of the more enjoyable ones for Sarah. Every night, for the last four nights in a row, her owner would force her to cook him dinner like some stereotypical housewife. That by itself had been a fun sort of role-play of course. She'd always shied away from these sorts of sexist activities, but couldn't deny the illicit thrill of it now that she didn't have a choice.
It wasn't just the activity though, but the way that her master prepared for it had been a depraved sexual fantasy she hadn't even realized was capable of making her wet until it did. Every afternoon he came home with some groceries and a recipe, and then he made a big deal of chaining her to the stove and telling her "If dinner isn't ready by six, and it isn't the best fucking thing I've ever tasted you'll spend a week in the basement wishing you'd done a better job," while he made a show of removing the knives and making sure there wasn't anything else she might try to use to escape. After that she'd spend the next hour or so wearing only an apron while she made dinner with varying degrees of success.
She hadn't done much cooking for herself since college had gotten busy, and had subsisted for longer than she was willing to admit on easy meals and cup noodles while she focused on her studies. Even with the lack of practice though, she hadn't done badly enough that she needed to be punished though.
Quite the opposite. Something about being in this submissive, domestic role made her captor insatiable. Every night she cooked David ended up fucking her. Once it had been on the counter while the roast was in the oven, twice he'd bent her over the table and fucked her when he declared that he was read for his desert, and last night he'd pinned her against the wall while he'd complained that the Stroganoff was taking too long and that he needed something to tide him over until it was ready.
She'd cum each time, at least as much because of the things he'd told her as the way he used her. There was just something intoxicating about being forced to serve this man in such menial ways. In a way, it was far more humiliating than the way he used her body whenever he felt like it. When it came to fucking at least she could still convince herself most nights that he was forcing himself on her, and that the sheer number of orgasms he'd forced her to have on his dick was a crude but effective form of brainwashing that she found impossible to resist. Mashing potatoes had no such sexy escape route though, because deep down she wasn't doing it to escape punishment. She was doing it because she wanted to make him happy.
That was the strangest part of all, and tonight was no different. They'd just finished eating tonight's culinary creation: lemon grass chicken skewers over rice, and all she could think of was how happy he looked, and how he was going to reward her for her hard work.
"You're getting better, doll. You keep this up you might even be a good cook someday," David said, as he got up and went to the living room to watch TV while she did the dishes.
That left Sarah mildly disappointed as she realized she might not get fucked again tonight, but she knew better than to complain and instead went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Once that was done she cleaned up the rest of the area, so he would have no excuse to punish or deny her, and noted that even though he'd taken care to collect the knives that he knew she would never use, he'd left this afternoon's mail sitting in a pile on the far end of the counter, like he always did.
Short of getting her hands on a cellphone that was the most dangerous thing in the house. One little message in a bottle slipped into the electric bill or whatever, and the police would be here to save her in a few days. She smiled a secret smile as she walked back to the living room. He was just lucky she didn't want to be saved anymore, or he'd be screwed. He might be stronger than her, but he would never be smarter than her.
She sat down next to him in the living room and laid her head down on his lap while he flipped between several channels before settling on the news. It wasn't long before he switched from stroking her hair contentedly to pulling her hair to lift her head up as he unzipped his blue jeans.
"You know slut, you did such a good job tonight I think you deserve a little desert of her own," he said as he pulled his cock out, inches from her face. "I've been so greedy about putting my cum in your sweet little pussy that you haven't gotten to taste it in almost a week."
"Yes master," she purred, only slightly disappointed, leaning closer to inhale the masculine scent of it.
She doubted he wouldn't end up fucking her tonight no matter what he said, but the idea that she might have to go more than 24 hours without one of the ferocious orgasms he forced on her. Making him cum would still be fun, even if the idea of swallowing a man's cum was still more than a little revolting and humiliating to her.
Sarah pushed that idea back though as she reached for the shaft as raised her head up to devour the head of his drooling cock. David stopped her though, grabbing her hand.