Frying bacon

You walk naked to the kitchenette. The fridge has eggs, bacon, and what looks to be milk gone sour. You throw out the milk, and toss the bacon into a pan.

Your captor gets up too. He finds some twine and stretches it across the room.

The bacon starts sizzling, splashing your curvy breasts with speckles of hot oil. You moan. Normally you'd yelp and cover up, but it feels good to feel pain for your master. You rub your boobs better and then break the eggs over the pan. That ends the splashing.

You look behind you again. He's hanging up the clothes to dry across the room. Two wooden clips for your bra. One for your panties.

Eggs and bacon are done. You serve two plates. and sit down to eat, still naked. Your captor joins you in jeans and tshirt.

"Emily, right?"

"That's right, sir," you smile submissively. You aren't sure if he notices.

"Anyone missing you right now, Emily?"

"My friend Michelle, maybe," you say. "But she thinks I was on a date last night. No one else knows me, really."

"Why are you telling me this?"

You blush. "I really like you, sir. You are so handsome, and you fucked me so well last night. I feel like you own me now."

He sits back. "Wow. Neat. On a different note, would anyone miss Michelle if she were gone?"

You stammer, confused. "No one but me, I think."

The rest of breakfast is quiet. At the end, he kisses you, biting your lower lip, leads you to the bed, and handcuffs your left hand to the bed frame.

"Sorry, girl, I have to be sure," he says and clips wooden laundry clips to your nipples. "Keep those on."

He leaves for the day. You finger yourself, thinking of his broad shoulders. The nagging pain in your nipples reminds you of your newfound destiny.