Routine

She eventually managed to find some sleep, even in the insane tie that Brielle left her in.

If Hannah's first full day in this place had felt like a nightmare, she soon found it to be a recurring one.

In the morning, Daisy would come again to feed her - the same disgusting cereal soaked in the cow-girl's milk that Hannah was **** to eat without her hands inches from her own aching pussy.

After breakfast, she was taken blindfolded to Fiona, enduring the unending humiliation of being seen and exposed to an unknown number of eyes as she was walked through the maze of the ship without clothes. On days when Hannah was untied and able to walk herself, she quickly realised trying to memorize the layout of the ship was impossible as Daisy always seemed to take a slightly different route to the elevator.

The welcome relief of the fire-dancer's massages and her quiet conversations were always the highlight of Hannah's day. The one time she felt able to truly relax as Fiona would share tiny bits of information with her about the boat, about the circus, about the other performers.

The one thing they didn't talk about was Caesar. And Hannah's body continued to tense painfully when she thought about him, an urgent pained panic that gripped her throat and sunk deep into the recesses of her mind - a fear of a trauma suppressed but not forgotten...

Of the pole... Of the case... Of...

Static.

Never again. Never again. Never again.

She was being trained and conditioned, she knew, and yet there was nothing she could do to stop them.

After her massage, she would be retrieved by Brielle and blindfolded again. The restraintologist would take Hannah back to her cabin... Her cell... And she would be trained some more.

She found herself increasingly tied in ever more **** bondage for ever longer periods of time. Her hips and back stretched, constantly by Brielle's expert ropework. Hannah would lose track of time as she was altered, as her body was coaxed and encouraged, inch by inch by inch... Every day a little further, a little more ****.

Sometimes she would have the cruel teasing vibrator pressed inside her for hours, while others, the humming bondage expert would mercifully let her sit without it.

And all the time Hannah's mind was increasingly filled with unwanted images of her own pussy. It was always there, hot, pink, glistening and needy... Spread so intimately right in front of her eyes... The smell of her own humiliating and unwanted arousal always felt so musky and close, hanging heavy in her tiny cabin.

Was it working? All this stretching and tying? Was it really getting her pussy closer to her mouth? Hannah couldn't tell, she couldn't and didn't want to think about it. No matter how much Brielle coaxed her body into tighter and tighter balls it still felt like Arnold's insane goal for her was impossible.

Daisy would bring her dinner. Two meals a day seemed to be all Hannah was permitted and she hated how ravenously she started to devour the disgusting slop she received - always eating bound, always without her hands, and always with her pussy and her face drawn so mortifyingly close together.

After dinner was when her routine seemed to differ, on some days she would be blindfolded and taken to the baths again, to relax in the hot water with Brielle and sooth her aching muscles. The gagged woman would groom her, wash her hair, shave her body, brush her teeth... Such Personal moments of self-care were apparently no longer Hannah's own to do.

"You belong to the Circus."

On other days, she would be unbound except her hands. The vibrator would be removed and Brielle and Daisy would leave her alone for several hours, trapped in her cell to contemplate her own little world and, she guessed, get some tiny amount of unbound sleep.

And yet Hannah found these times just as stressful as anything else they'd done to her. If not more, because she had no way of keeping time and no way to entertain herself. It was then that her mind would drift to thoughts of her family, her friends... Of clothes! Of what her life used to look like, what it was supposed to look like now if she hadn't been kidnapped and stripped and made into...

Hannah ran out of tears to cry. Instead she would longingly imagine what clothes she would've worn that day and what they felt like, what shoes felt like... What it was like to not always be naked and embarrassingly exposed, for her breasts and ass and pussy to not always be on display for everyone and anyone that wanted to look...

She had no way to keep her mind on anything except the often aching need between her legs and the anxiety that someone would come back any moment to tie her in knots again.

In those moments Hannah found she almost wanted them to... To come back and bind her again... Just to get the **** of the waiting and thinking over with. At least when she was tied in a ball she had something to think about, she had mental and physical stimulation... When she was alone and free like this, she had nothing.

God - get a hold of yourself - can't you see what they're doing? What they're making you want?

No matter what, Hannah would, eventually always find herself bound in her cabin again before bed. Brielle would return and let her use the bathroom, and even watch her shower if that's what Hannah desired but, she was not left alone when using the washroom for even a second. It was humiliating.

Hannah's nights then were always the same... Another tie... Another stretch... Another position. Whether Brielle would leave the vibrator humming inside her or not seemed to be entirely random. Hannah would sometimes have to endure days in a row of the sleepless, helpless, erotic **** of the device buzzing her pussy all night without release. While others she was left to fall into a silent, restrained sleep to the gentle rocking of the boat.

She lost track of the days pretty quickly. Had it been two weeks or three? Four weeks? Five? It hadn't been months, of that Hannah was certain but still, her days blurred into a routine of nothing but constant humiliating exposure, body-bending bondage and the never ending **** horniness...

Until one morning when Hannah looked across her buzzing pussy to her opening cabin door, she found it wasn't Daisy standing in the doorway, it was....