DISCLAIMER: This is a dark story involving adults forced into non-consensual sexual activities involving incest, mental abuse, death threats and dehumanization. No one gets physically harmed in the story, the threats of death are just mind games orchestrated by the characters. While not participating in sexual activities willingly, characters in the story are enjoying them. Proceed with caution.
I was told that three months have passed since our kidnapping took place.
Or should I say, I was shown. A video of my dad, pleading on TV for any information on our disappearance. He was crying. He said he will never move on. In despair, he even asked to give him some sort of sign if we're on the "other side" already...
I was helpless. My entire life was reduced to serving my sadistic kidnapper's arousal and pleasure. He was stroking himself in front of us as we were watching our dad beg him to show mercy and release us. He obviously didn't know that we were actually kidnapped, but he assumed that as a possibility. Sometimes I wondered if police knew. Were they searching for them? Did they have any chance at saving them?
After watching the video multiple times, my brother had to suck our kidnapper's cock as he spat on him. Then, I've had to lick his feet clean and call my dad a pathetic fool, or we would be denied food. He considered every little way to humiliate us as good and enjoyable.
It took me some time, but I eventually accepted it: he owned us. The only reason why I still denied that from time to time was pure delusion. He didn't have to beat us or force us into anything. It was as he said "I won't hurt you" -- and he never really did. If he wanted something done, all he had to do was not give us food. Usually it took about two days of not having anything to eat for us to gladly change our mind, do whatever he expected of us and in euphory kiss his feet in gratitude.
On one evening he brought something else besides just the usual dinner portion to my cell.
"I've noticed that you became very submissive lately," he told me, as his masked self placed things on the table. "It seems that you finally calmed down and accepted that both of you are my toys now." I did not respond. "I understand it's difficult and humiliating. But it's good that you show respect through your actions. I'm pleased with your performance, so I brought you a reward. You've had no dessert in a while, so enjoy yourself."
He left. I threw myself at food like a wild animal and devoured it. The cheap vanilla ice cream, with a salty topping made out of his cum, was so delicious and brought back so many memories from the days of freedom that I wept. I'm sure he was watching me through the camera, with hand on his cock, pumping it in pleasure to my misery. He was doing that a lot. It always felt weird to have your pain and tragedy turned into someone's sexual pleasure. Deeply humiliating and objectifying. And yet, I couldn't do anything about it, so I've had to accept it.
I begged him to free my cock from the chastity device and to let me cum. I was hoping he would comply, after all, it was deeply humiliating for me to ask for it and he should be into it. Not only I confirmed his control over me, but also admitted that even in these conditions, I was capable of being horny. He would always say "convince me."
And so I did try. I sucked his nuts, swallowed all of his loads, worshipped his feet, even cleaned his sweaty ass with my tongue. He would always reward me with dildos, butt plugs or prostate massagers, but never with a key to that fucking cage. If I ever dared to make complaints instead of thanking him, I would be falling asleep hungry.
My cock was free only at one time a day -- when my brother was forced to wash it for me. It would always got hard immediately, making both of us uncomfortable. My little brother really didn't want to touch it, so our kidnapper would always have to control us closely and he would say "you didn't clean it properly yet" at least three times.
I tried to explain this to him, that I'm not getting hard for him, but because I'm just so horny that I automatically get hard whenever out of this cage. Our kidnapper would always interrupt any conversation I tried to have with Daniel, however. Except for one time, really...
I was a little bit drunk, as the kidnapper gave me only beer to drink. This, plus my throbbing cock, made me do something really dumb. When my brother was washing my boner, I asked him:
"Could you... jerk it off for me?"
He looked me in the eyes with pure rage. He pushed me against the wall of the shower and began punching my exposed stomach. With my arms cuffed behind my back, I was unable to defend myself. The kidnapper watched us without intervening.
"You disgusting faggot! I knew it!" my brother yelled at me.
"Please, stop..." I begged him. I slid down, having no more strength in my legs and he spat on me.
"I don't want to touch him again!" Daniel barked at the kidnapper.
"Too bad, because I don't care," the kidnapper responded calmly. "Wash his cock properly."
Daniel was clenching his fists in anger. Never before I saw him act this aggressive. He bowed to the kidnapper.
"Yes, sir," he said respectfully and proceeded to wash my penis, without facing me.
My brother didn't know this, but I was made to watch multiple sessions of our kidnapper toying with him. I was placed in a chair, tied up, with my cock freed and raging in sick excitement. I didn't have to watch what was going on the camera feed, I could've closed my eyes or something. But I did watch. I witnessed my little brother in the most humiliating, degenerate moments. I saw him naked, eagerly spreading his legs, inviting our kidnapper, offering his ass to him. The experience of four days of hunger convinced him to be this willing.
But that wasn't all. I watched him choke on our kidnapper's dick in so many weird positions that I expected them to be straight out of Kamasutra. I watched my brother rim his stinky, hairy ass crack, and then eat whipped cream out of it. I watched him drinking his piss after he was denied water. He was so thirsty he bent and sucked off the dirty puddle that was left on the floor. I also watched him swallow our kidnapper's balls while he was taking a dump on the toilet.
Each time I witnessed it, it hurt me. It's impossible to just ignore the sight of your loved one being humiliated so terribly. But at the same time, I would lie if I said I wasn't aroused. Each time I was making my cock throb, hoping that it would be enough to make some "no stimulation" orgasm. It never did.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked me once, after he came back from torture session with Daniel.
My stiff boner glistening with precum was not difficult to notice.
"Why are you doing this...?" I asked in pure despair. My head felt like I was in a fewer.
"You know why. It makes me hard. Your lives whole purpose has been reduced to bringing me pleasure, remember?"
"Not that... Why don't you let me cum...?"
He stopped whatever he was doing and approached me, masked as usual.
I asked him this question few times already, every time in a moment of weakness. I remember the first one best. He brought me ramen and then I confronted him.
"Why would I let you have an orgasm?" he responded with a question. Later he would always answer it in the exact same way.
"You've won, okay?" I admitted, avoiding his stare. "I will submit. I will do whatever you want. It's humiliating to me to admit that I still want to cum, despite being stuck in this hell. You like that, so why not let me? I will think about you... fucking my ass," I tried convincing him by making him horny.
He took me out of the cell and brought me to a cozy chair. He took a seat on it, exposed his dick, took his shoes off and spread legs, inviting me to kneel between them.
"You wanted to convince me to do something for you. I'm listening, slave," he said in a cold tone.
I sucked his cock, respectfully kissed his nutsack, licked each of his testicles, even though I should have used the opportunity and bite them. But I didn't. I brought him pleasure, showed respect and appreciation. I greedily swallowed his cock. I showed eagerness and committed to giving him the best power trip he could have.
"You're my master," I desperately tried saying the right thing that would convince him. "You own me completely. Please, let me jerk off thinking of you. It's driving me insane, not being able to have that release. I beg you, master!" I dropped to his feet and began kissing his socks. When I looked at him again, he seemed just as unamused as he was before. "Please, master... I don't know what to do or say to please you... Show me some mercy..."
"So basically, you want to trade with me," he said. "Say something that will please me, do something that I want, and in return get what you want. But I don't have to trade with you, slave. You've said this yourself: I own you. But you don't yet understand what that means." He raised his socked foot and kicked me in the face with it. "I want your little dick to rot in that cage and this is exactly what is happening. If one day I want to cut it off entirely, I will. And once I decide that, you will say 'yes, master' to it, not because a reward will await you, but because you're my slave and you have no other choice."
He did reward me, though. Few hours after I went back to my cell, he threw a dildo at me. Fifth one...
He only offered me that. Dildos and vibrating plugs. I tried using them, despite not having lube. I pushed them up my butt and tried to enjoy them like a bitch. It did make me feel certain things, but never anything equal to an orgasm. I wasn't even sure if I actually sensed anything there, or if I was just gaslighting myself from horniness.
My kidnapper wasn't very eager to fuck me. He never did anal with me, oral sex only. I admit that with shame, but after long hours being stuck in that cell, alone and with nothing to do, I was glad to have this human interaction with him, however sick it was. Probably for that reason I put so much effort into him feeling good. He was appreciative of it, to a certain point. The more I proved him that I understand and accept my position, the kinder he was to me. But he was never taking breaks at being demanding.
It was making me cry at night, but this kidnapper became closer to me than my own brother. Daniel hated me. He found me disgusting and truly regretted that I didn't take off when I could, back when that guy attacked us. I found out how much he hates me during one of his sessions that I was forced to watch.
In general, Daniel seemed unstable. Sometimes he was aggressive and rebellious, even towards our master, as if he went back mentally to the first days. On other times, he was scared, having panic attacks, begging master to let him go. On other times, however...
I remembered it well, because it makes me unusually sick. The kidnapper was between Daniel's spread legs, fucking him passionately. Daniel was smiling, pinching his own nipples. His hard cock was jumping up and down from the motion of their bodies. Master spat onto his face and Daniel giggled in joy.
"Sir, you're so deep in me... I can feel you in my stomach..." Daniel moaned, spreading legs even further, curling toes, biting his lip. My cock was throbbing so painfully while I was watching it, but my mind was like "what the fuck, Daniel". "Please, never stop... I want you inside of me forever..."
"Oh? You don't want to be free?" the kidnapper grunted.
"No! I want to stay with you forever! But I don't want you to treat me bad anymore... I want you to love me... You like doing this to me, don't you, master?"
"If I didn't like fucking you, I wouldn't be doing this," master responded rather coldly.
Tears began forming in Daniel's eyes.
"I don't want to do this anymore..." he cried and tried to raise up.
Our master stopped fucking him. Still inside him, he moved his leg, placing his socked foot on Daniel's chest and keeping him pressed against the floor. Now he was fucking him sideways as Daniel cried.
"Why are you doing this to me?!" Daniel whined. "This is wrong! You can't do this to people!"
"Watch me."
Daniel's hysteria and agony only increased with time.
