- Faux fur tail attached to a canine knot style silicone buttplug (16.5cm length, 5cm maximum diameter).
- 22-inch underbust mesh corset, to be wore for at least 8 hours each day.
How long has it been since she found herself in this new hell? Five weeks? Maybe this is the sixth? At the beginning of her captivity, she tried to find windows of opportunity to escape, but her master is a cautious man, and made sure that she was constantly locked in some kind of restraint. On some days she'd be left in a sturdy canvas straitjacket for hours while master Calen was away at work.
Today she is fortunate to be left inside a cage, one barely bigger than a coffin. Unlike when she had to wear the straitjacket, this at least allowed her the dignity of using her hands while eating the sandwich left in the cage as her lunch.
It was another Friday, which meant an evening of edging and torment for the slavegirl. Once master Calen had arrived back home, she greeted her master politely, though apparent still without enough enthusiasm for master to smile back at her. The she waited patiently to be fed dinner, and for the doors of her cage to be unlocked. During the day, the girl's wore only a leather collar, a tightly laced corset that brought her waistline down several inches, and the dreaded, high tech chastity belt with its built-in catheter and dildo. With her master's help, the girl changed out of this outfit for her 'evening uniform', one which was far more restrictive and dehumanizing than her daytime outfit.
The delicate features her face was gone now, hidden behind a smooth black latex hood that encased her head. So tight was the material that from the outside, one could still admire the sharp, elegant contours of her nose and jawline. The hood's polished surface appeared seamless, with its rear zipper sealed beneath a strip of electrical tape. There were two holes provided; the larger one at the front exposed her nose and her gaping mouth, while a smaller one at the rear allowed her raven hair to spill out in a ponytail.
The reason for her wide-open mouth was a ring-gag that sat snugly between her teeth, two inches in diameter and kept in place by a ruthless web of leather straps encircling her head. It caused the slave to drool helplessly to the amusement of her master, and easily made accessible the hole which master enjoyed the most.
She also wore a pair of earphones beneath the hood, completing the sensory deprivation, rendering her completely blind, deaf and utterly helpless. The latex material flowed down her chin and onto her neck, disappearing behind a posture collar made of rigid rubber, which immobilized the girl's head and angled it slightly upwards. A set of three buckles around the collar, each secured by a tiny padlock, ensured that the pressure around the slavegirl's neck was unrelenting.
It was a wicked setup, the ring gag is concealed beneath the latex hood, the hood's zipper trapped beneath the posture collar, and the collar was stringently locked into place. The combination rendered the slavegirl's entire head and neck a featureless black mass, except for her gaping lips and the blocky white lettering across girl's brows that spelled out her new name: Luna.
Poor little Luna. During her first week of captivity, she screamed, begged, cried and tried to run. Since then, Calen had ruthlessly tortured her, raped her in heavy restraints, pumped her full of mind-altering drugs and teased her cunt on a daily basis. Still, she had not been allowed to orgasm even once. Luna was smart enough to realise why the intricately designed chastity belt was kept on her; the cycle of edging and orgasm denial was steadily reducing her to a creature of sexual need, placing her into a permanent state of arousal.
A small part of Luna was still pleading to herself to resist, but she knew it was an uphill fight. Soon enough, she would become nothing more than her master's living fuckdoll, a sex toy who just happened to be a young woman, eager to satisfy even the most depraved demands.
Content with the totality of the encasement over Luna's head, the master moved on. Latex opera gloves went up the length of her arms. Then master made Luna hold her hands into fists before wrapping them thoroughly with more electrical tapes, rendering her fingers immobile and useless. A pair of thigh high stockings, also made of pristine black latex, were rolled up her long and shapely legs. Last but not least, towering 6-inch stiletto heels were fastened to Luna's dainty feet. Master Calen chose this pair specifically for Luna because their ankle straps had slots which could also accommodate tiny padlocks.
Once all the pieces of the outfit were in place, Calen gave himself a few minutes to savour the sight. He appreciated simple, contrasting colours, which Luna now exemplified. The black latex that clung to the contours of her head, neck, arms and legs, as well as her shoulder-length black ponytail, stood out sharply against the pale skin of her lean torso which remain exposed.
Blinded and deafened, Luna's remaining senses were elevated. The smell of latex came across as intoxicating, and she could feel the wetness between her legs growing as a waft of cool air brushed her exposed, hardened clitoris. It's not an issue that a person in Luna's situation should be worrying about now, but thanks to the combination of experimental drugs and orgasm denial, all she could think about is how badly she wanted to cum. Instead of hoping for an opportunity to escape her captor, all she was hoping for right now was an orgasm, which had been denied from her again and again in the past weeks.
The girl sensed the weight of a chain leash being clipped onto her posture collar followed by a stinging smack on her thigh, signalling her to get on her knees. Her posture when crawling was precisely as master had prescribed. Her ankles were bent so that calves were pressed against her thighs, knees widely parted to show off her engorged, freshly depilated cunt, and her torso held low, so that her nipples almost touching the floor.
With a firm grip on her leash, master Calen led the blindfolded girl into the bathroom. The girl's bowel had to be flushed clean first before the aphrodisiac compounds could be administered and absorbed with maximum effectiveness. The short journey from the dungeon/playroom to the bathroom was not an easy one for Luna. With her legs bent, the weight of her body now rested entirely on her knees as she crawled, first on the hardwood floor, then on the cold tiles which indicated that she had entered the bathroom. A pained groan escaped Luna's gagged lips when she felt the sudden intrusion of the sizable enema nozzle into her ass. From there, a soft plastic tubing ran up to a bag containing the cleaning solution. Seconds later, the first burst of cold, soapy water rushed into her when the master flicked open a valve. The pressure inside her steadily ramped up as a full litre of the liquid sloshed in, not an unbearable volume but nevertheless uncomfortable, especially considering the irritating effects of the soap.
Ten minutes passed before Luna sensed another tug from her leash, directing her over the toilet bowl. A hint of indignity might have appeared on Luna's face, had she not worn the hood, when the nozzle was swiftly yanked out of her asshole, causing her to expel the filthy water. The process was repeated once more, another litre of soapy water while Luna went back on her knees, another ten minutes before master was satisfied.
