Stuffed Into A Closet

Jamie all put purred then, "Well, I for one vote we lock it away for the night ... can't have some dumb Slut going around causing problems while we sleep ... I mean, right?" At that I heard a few words of agreement and nodding of heads, soon followed by Heather speaking up, "Oh right, sounds like we have a consensus ... Well, away with her then."

With that, Heather finally takes her feet off of me, casually getting up. At the same time, Ashley gets up, leans over, and I feel her hand on my chin, pulling my head up, forcing me to look her way, "Hope you're not afraid of small spaces, skank." Swiftly then, I feel the feet leaving my back, and I'm swiftly yanked upward.

I manage to stand up then, and I'm almost knocked over as Heather shoves me forward. They giggle at my expense, and everyone else chortles softly, as I'm pushed forward and toward a dark opening. I find myself being led to a different level, and soon find myself facing a small closet. It made the small births look like a luxury hotel sweet. On the door, there was a mirror, and I got a brief look at what they wrote on me, and it was about as bad as I feared.

Sure, they made my breasts look like controllers, but then they wrote 'Slut' on my forehead, 'free use' point at my shaved mound, and it only got worse from there. I did not have long to look either, as I found myself being shoved inside. I crashed into the shelves and heard the door close behind me. Before I could even move, I heard them locking it behind me, and they giggled, making a comment I could not quite hear, before walking away.

So, there I was, locked in a closed, left alone in the dark, and without a stitch of fabric on me. I was left with nothing to do but ponder whether it was by accident or design, with the ballgag still firmly planted in my mouth. I looked around, but what space was held nothing besides myself. I managed to fall asleep eventually, leaning against the shelves, aware of every wave that buffered the ship.