Ultragirl's ordeal

Evelyn tried not to look at the screen. Tried not to listen to the lewd sounds. But they filled the room. She scrunched up her eyes, shouted defiantly over the footage until her voice got hoarse. But nothing changed. She realised the room must be sound-insulated. Nobody could hear her.

The buttplug kept vibrating. It was doing... things to her body. Things she was determined to resist. The buttplug represented everything she hated about Alpha. Everything she hated about all the perverted people who thought the depraved act of sex was ever acceptable for anything other than reproduction. But such a small, simple device made her feel like, like...

She tried to occupy her mind, focus on escape. But she was defeated by the simplicity of her problem. Whatever Alpha had done to her, she couldn't break her bonds. She tried to fly, lifting her feet off the ground and willing herself to smash through the screen and straight out of the cliff face beyond. But she could only float pathetically in place, tethered to the ceiling by her wrists. She tried to squeeze out of the cables that tightly handcuffed her - maybe she could dislocate her thumbs and squeeze her hands out - but her own invulnerable bones defied her valiant efforts.

Every so often the buttplug would change its pattern. It was never the same twice; and because it kept changing, Evelyn could never ignore it.

After what felt like an eternity of trying to ignore the video footage before her, the screen finally darkened, and the spotlight that illuminated her turned off. Ultragirl felt some small relief that they would at least allow her to sleep - until she realised that the audio hadn't stopped. Not completely. As her ears adjusted to the new quiet, she heard female moans, cries, lustful words, the sound of skin on skin, voices begging {if Futa==true}Mikaela to fuck them, begging to worship her, begging to be her ****...{else}Michael to fuck them, begging to worship him, begging to be his ****...{endif}

She didn't sleep that night.

It was a literal waking nightmare. She shook her head from side to side, wishing she could cover her ears, block out the endless moans. But she couldn't. It was hot. A sheen of sweat coated her skin. Her mind started running in circles, and she wondered if this was the start of a descent into madness. But Ultragirl was not about to be defeated so easily. She repeated a mantra in her head.

I am Ultragirl. I am strong. I will not give in to {if Futa==true}her{else}him{endif}. I am Ultragirl. I am strong. I will not give in to {if Futa==true}her{else}him{endif}. I am Ultragirl...

That, her pure hate for her captor, and her sheer determination to survive, were what she clung to throughout the night.{if@ Images!=false}

{endif}

The spotlight turned on after what felt like an eternity, and Ultragirl squinted under the blinding light. She had barely adjusted to it, when the TV flicked on again. It was an image of {if Futa==true}Mikaela{else}Michael{endif}'s cock. Huge, hard as rock, precum dripping from the tip. Evelyn shuddered as she realised she had just recognised {if Futa==true}her{else}his{endif} penis without any further context. She turned away as she recognised Foxgloves' dark green lips enter the frame and tenderly slide over the glans. But she couldn't turn away from the ASMR sounds of her teammate sucking and licking her captor's behemoth. They filled the room, her ears, her mind.

She searched for something else to think about, and didn't have to search for long. She was thirsty. Really thirsty. She hadn't drunk in over fifteen hours. And she had been losing water through sweat that entire time. Her eyes slowly wandered to the dildo that hung next to her face.

"NO!" she yelled, looking away. She realised the dildo was the same shape as {if Futa==true}Mikaela{else}Michael{endif}'s cock - then she hated herself for that. But not as much as she hated {if Futa==true}her{else}him{endif}.

She considered whether she could go on a thirst strike. **** Alpha to either free her, or kill her. But nobody could hear her demands - or if they could, they didn't care. And after what felt like at least another ten hours of desperately trying to blot out the porn and the heat and the thirst... she looked back at the dildo. And she gave in.

Ultragirl leaned towards the device, swaying forwards from her bonds. She stared at it, at the moisture that glistened on its surface, and tried to resist. But she was so thirsty. She couldn't. Humiliated, ashamed, the blonde slowly, trembling, stuck out her dry tongue towards the shaft. Her mind fought itself for a second or two, but her survival instinct won out. Shakily, she licked the moisture off the dildo. She swallowed, but it was barely anything, and now she had tasted water, she couldn't stop herself. She greedily, shamefully licked the entire shaft until it was dry. The sounds of sex from the TV surrounded her. She waited a painfully long time for the device to secrete more water onto the surface, then licked it dry again, and again, until finally her thirst was quenched enough to resist the dildo.

Her mental clarity came with revulsion. What had she done? She had felt every contour of {if Futa==true}Mikaela's heinous{else}Michael's{endif} penis with her tongue. Licked it like an animal. Was this what she had become?

The buttplug's vibrations changed, to long, slow pulses. A gasp, bordering on a moan, escaped her lips.

I am Ultragirl. I am strong. I will not give in to {if Futa==true}her{else}him{endif}. It was all she could do.