Splish, sploosh

Splash, You land in water. It must be salt water because your lean body floats easily. This isn't at all what you imagined. The water isn't even cold, more a comfortable luke warm. In keeping with the calm atmosphere, there is a current pushing you so gently you only notice it when the tiny dot of Terrador's light above you drifts away.

In the pitch black, you try to swim a little but have no idea where to go or if you are making any head way. Deciding to relax and enjoy your soak is a better option. You haven't had a real bath in a while and walking hunched before getting gangbanged has left your muscles sore.

Time drifts by and the ache in your shoulders disappears. There is no movement, no sound. Starting to get restless, you wonder how this is supposed to train you. Are they trying to bore me into submi-- Your muscles spasm, making an attempt to jump out of your skin before you even know what's going on. Complete surprise is replaced by overwhelming pleasure as a multitude of sextoys tease and please you.

The sensations are so intense it takes a minute to figure out what is happening. Pleasure spreads across your crotch, and in its center, you feel a vibrator on your clit. A bumpy rod is drilling your pussy. During each industrial thrust, its tip presses into then slides across your G-spot. At first, you think it is vibrating, but soon realize the bumps are twisting and bouncing. Another rod (thankfully smaller) bores into your ass.

Similarly, Your breasts are being pleased. There are pumps insistently sucking your nipples. And what feels like three wheels of synthetic tongues massages each of your flesh globes. Other tongues cycle over your neck, belly, and legs. You struggle to maintain your grip on reality. Switching between being bored to **** to two dildos boring you to the little **** has left you more than a little scrambled.

Needless to say, you are moaning and screaming uncontrollably. It is a struggle to gasp in enough oxygen before another cascade of pleasure gives you the need to expel it in cry of joy. Metal cuffs, which appeared with the rest of the sex toys, limit your twisting and bucking, but you still gyrate enough to froth the water.

Held spread-eagle in darkness, the rhythmic pounding of fucking machines and your own passionate sounds are the only thing that could possibly distract you from the **** pleasure rocking through your body. And the sound of a slut being fucked like a piece of meat serves only to arouse you more.

Just after your first orgasm (a blossom of joy that makes you see stars), a booming voice fills your chamber. "You love this, you whore!" He states "Just like any cunt, all you want is to be fucked! You want to suck and lick and serve and beg! Naughty things like you need to be punished!"

The ankle cuffs pull your legs up until your lower body is out of the water. Once your ass is out of the water, two paddles begin spanking it. Your song of sex is amplified to be audible over the drumming on your ass. It is easy to hear the genuine pleasure in every squeal and moan. You've always known you had more than a passing fancy in BDSM but start to wonder how deep your submissiveness runs.

After three or four orgasms (your memory is a little fuzzy), the vibrator on your clit increases its intensity to the point that pain seasons the constant pleasure coursing through your nerves. "You crave pain," the voice informs, "and rough sex." There is no way you could argue. "You will make a great sex **** for the Syndicate. Hungry for more? Of course you are. One of your fuckholes is empty." A rubber cock forces itself into your mouth, stifling your screams of ecstasy. Lost in lust, you start sucking, taking only the most necessary of pauses to breathe through your nose. Moaning like a freshly fuelled hyperdrive, you reach another orgasm.

It is a different voice that speaks next, a sultry female one. "Your first few days as a **** are scary," she says with a slight aristocratic accent, "so I'm recording this to help you understand." You are close to another orgasm, so it is more than a little frustrating when the dildos pull out and the tongues slow to a crawl, allowing you to focus on her words. The woman lets out a pleasantly surprised moan and explains "Mistress says I am not speaking from my cunt. She is putting her cock in my ass to help me." On cue, the larger, bumpy rod crams into your asshole. It has been liberally lubed by your own juices but still hurts, painfully stretching your sphincter. The paddles continue to smack your stuffed ass, although not as loudly. "Fuck! I love my new life." The **** is grunting between words. "I love the leather, and rope, and cum. I don't have to worry about trades or forecasting, just pose extra nice and get fucked. Ohhhh, Mistress, this whore is so horny may she touch her cunt?" You hear a harsh slap. "Thank you, for correcting me, Mistress. She punishes me everyday. I know that must sound terrible to you, but in a week you'll realize a whole new realm of wonderful sensations you've ignored." Spurts of sweet semen squirt from your gag to prove the slut-****'s point.

"I should warn you ahh," she gasps out, "it isn't always rough. Yesterday, Mistress ordered me to--" The background sounds of anal sex become louder and the unseen slut stops speaking to catch her breath.

Another explosive orgasm shakes your body as you listen. While you regain your senses, the cock gag fills your mouth with another load of tasty spunk. There are two fleshy slap sounds that are different from the paddles still coloring your ass.

"Owwww," moans the **** in a mix of pain and pleasure, "Mistress has slapped my tits because I stopped speaking." Your horny narrator sucks air in hard before continuing her story. "Yesterday I was her coffee table. I had to remain perfectly still on all fours, balancing the glass table top across my back. The humiliation made my cunt ache with arousal." She pause to whimper weakly, "Mistress is playing with my nipples. She is always so gentle even when she is being rough." Pleasure addled, you understand her meaning. Despite the nipple pumps undeniable power, they have an inexplicable softness.

While the disembodied slut rambles and moans her way back to the subject of human furniture, you are lifted completely out of the water and your limbs pulled even further apart, straining your pelvis and shoulders. Drops of water spray from your writhing flesh and plunk into the water below.

The enslaved voice briefly starts explaining the complex passions of being a reduced to table before she desperately pleads "may this whore touch her filthy cunt now?" The only answer is another pair of tit slaps. You empathize with her; despite the satisfying clit vibe, your pussy does ache with longing. You wonder if the cum you swallowed was aphrodisiac laced or if it is just the **** sex toys in a sensory deprivation chamber that is filling you with insatiable lust.

The horny **** keeps listing the joys of submission but often stops to inform you what new torment she is receiving, which the **** box imitates. Halfway through telling you why it is better to be the fuckmeat in a sandwich party, she screams than tells you her mistress is dripping hot wax on her tits. You squeal through your occasionally-cumming gag when your tits and belly receive a similar **** of hot wax. You keep squealing when you are dropped back into the water to discover it's now freezing cold. The restraints keep you from submerging completely into the water; your full tits and toned belly stay out of the water (the better to be tormented). Writhing spread-eagled the wax continues to drip on your sensitive areas and your body is split between the hot and cold extremes. There is a brief relief when your body is flipped and your wax-warmed tits are cooled in the water while your chilled back is heated by the molten wax. But soon the new position becomes painful, especially arching your neck to steal scraps of breath through your nose while your ass and mouth are filled by dildos. And when the dripping wax decorates your heavily paddled bottom, you scream into the water despite the cum spurting out of your cock gag.

You are also whipped, hung upside-down with your arms and forehead submerged to remind you of the ice water. The ****-box dips you in at random intervals as it works you over. A single tail lash starts at your ankles and strikes across your legs, ass, stomach, and tits. At the same time, the recorded **** (being flogged) talks about how exciting it is to hear the swish and crack, to fear that the next "kiss" may be on a sensitive area. At some point, the gauntlet of torturous pleasure and wonderful pain proves to be too much and you pass out.

You wake up shivering on a cold metal floor on your side, still soaked from being half submerged in water. In front of you, you see a small candle burning. It illuminates a simple bed. Your wrists and ankles are fettered together behind your back, but you manage to roll to it. It is little more than a small, round pet bed but with the heat of the simple candle it feels very welcoming. You half curl around the candle for warmth and go back to sleep, The collar feels so natural you don't even notice.

When you wake up again, there is a bowl of water on the floor, next to some cock-shaped **** biscuits. You know you will need all your strength, so you shimmy over to your meager breakfast. When you reach the floor meal, a wall emerges from the floor behind you, splitting the room in half and cutting you off from the bed. Trying to keep your long red hair out of the bowl, you lap up the water. Getting pistoned and vibed to countless squirting orgasms has left you very thirsty. As it is, you consider it a win that you didn't melt into a puddle of drool and lady jizz. You probably only kept your sanity because of your previous dips into the world of submission.

It's clear you underestimated the ****-box. Whatever it lacks in individuality it makes up for in pure pussy-pounding, orgasm-earning power. As you eat the crumbly snack off the ground, you hear machinery shifting outside your cell followed by muffled begging. You wont win an endurance contest with this monolith of metal. Licking the last crumbs of your meal of the floor, you come up with a plan.