A Few Shades of Hot and Collared

When she awoke, it was not to the sight she had expected. Perhaps she had thought she might be in her bed - or somewhere in her house, at least - perhaps hungover as all hell. Or, maybe, at Sarah's house - also another drunk crash hotspot. If not there, then perhaps her car or desk at work - she had once fallen asleep there on a long job during a major migration and had to sneak as close to the door to disarm the alarm as possible before it went off. Of all the places she had expected herself to awaken after a period of blacked out memories, though, none of them involved this unfamiliar sight.

The first thing she noticed was that she was on her knees. The carpet below her was soft and lush, and her legs didn't ache too badly as far as she could tell, though she was low down, and her knees were apart. The second thing she noticed was that she was restrained. Moving her hands, she found that they were both cuffed together and tied to something behind her - turning, she made out what looked like a bedframe, reaching out and feeling the metal and wood around her fingertips. Casting her gaze further around the room, she took in more detail, recognizing a bedroom. There was a bed behind her in the middle of the room and shelves on either side of the bed. It was a large room, and in front of her sat a simple circular table with wide feet and a couple of simple chairs. There was a dresser and a large cupboard on the wall in the remaining corner, and only one door, off to her left. She had been cuffed to the bed on the lower right-hand corner of the bedframe, facing away into the room. The table was in front of her and she could make out that there were objects of some kind atop it, but not what they were. To her left in the middle of the wall was the door, and it currently sat closed.

As she cast her eyes around the room more, her faculties returning bit by bit, her breathing starting to pace faster as she realized the situation she was in, she looked for answers to two questions: first, who was holding her here, and where was here? She could make out no answers in this softly lit space - the shelves had nondescript books and trinkets on them and the table, while holding something, didn't seem to have anything of worth right now on it. She could see no signs of a wallet or bag or computer, only out-of-focus blobs of pink and flesh and black. Her second question was simple enough: how exactly did she get out of this place?

The second question swapped into focus, and only worried her more as she struggled again against the bedframe, feeling the cuffs, which were surprisingly soft and gentle around her wrists - likely toy cuffs designed for sex play, not something that brought her any deeper confidence - securely holding her hands together, up high below the bed. She guessed that the cuffs were probably zip-tied to the underside of the bedframe, keeping her arms back and her body low. Straining, she pulled down on the cuffs, her arms at an uncomfortable angle but free enough in the cuffs that she could turn her wrists to give herself a little better leverage. She tried to raise herself up with her legs but split apart and bent as they were she could only add an inch of hip flex to her reach; not enough to put serious pressure on her restraints.

'So you're awake.' someone said from a speaker somewhere in the room. She gasped and jumped, glancing her spine painfully off the bedframe behind her and gritting her teeth to suppress it. Glancing wildly about, she could make out nothing in the blue-and-purple edge lit room, the moody lighting softened only by two bedside laps which glowed gently either side of the bed in the far corner, together providing enough light and colour for her to see the room but not enough to expose everything in clear lighting.

The voice chortled softly from the speaker, coming through as a grainy guff. She zeroed her gaze in on where the sound was coming from, and turning her head to the shelves to her left, noticed for the first time a small camera lens focused on her - it was a baby monitor of some kind, perhaps a pet camera, one that clearly came with remote features like viewing and communicating. As if it had seen her notice it, the speaker crackled again.

'Ah, hello. You now see me. Good morning - or, rather, good evening, I should say.'

'Who are you? What am I doing tied up in here?' She replied with not a little anxiety and anger. She struggled again with the bed, moving herself left and right to test the restraints.

'I am a man who is recovering, currently, from a very enjoyable and most assuredly consensual love-making session,' the speaker said, a slight crackling coming through the tiny device. 'It was not the first, nor will it be the last - but a man can perform only so many times, and so requires... Recharging. That is, unlike a woman such as yourself.'

She ground her teeth as he spoke. Clearly, she had been out - maybe getting drinks, maybe just on the street walking home, she couldn't remember anything yet other than fog and noise before waking up here - when this creep-tastic rapist had obviously drugged her and kidnapped her to use as he pleased.

'I'm sure I know what you're thinking about right now.' he said, the crackle returning as he spoke. 'You're thinking I'm a kidnapper - a man who takes who he likes and rapes them. I assure you I am not. As I said, our sex-which, yes, we did indeed share-was very, very consensual - in fact, you begged me for more several times.' She thought she could sense a grin on his face as he spoke, and in that moment, she hated him for it - for this whole charade, for his glee, for her helplessness. The hatred surged through her, powering her up.

'Who are you, cunt?' She spat at the camera, struggling again at her bonds.

'I think the real question you want to ask right now is, who are you?' The speaker retorted. She inhaled to respond - then paused. I know who I am - I'm... I'm a... I...

'Can't remember our name, sweet?' The voice quipped, right on cue. 'Allow me to help you in rediscovering yourself: your name is Abigale - Abby, you go by.' Blinking, Abby suddenly remembered her name, as if it was a puzzle piece slipped into place - she was absolutely called Abigale. How had she not remembered that until now?

The crackle came once more as Abby thought over the new old name. She turned to the camera, small in the centre of the feed and smaller still than normal cramped in her current position, low and to the side on the display in his hands. 'You must forgive me if you can hear some background noise during our conversation, Abby,' he said as he watched her on the floor of his bedroom, struggling with her restraints once more. 'A relaxing bath such as this is to be enjoyed, and one must occasionally disturb the surface. You are hearing the sound of lavender-scented hot water and wafer biscuits - I will leave which, up to your ear.' As Abby pushed on the bed again, she heard a crackling crunch as one of the hard little biscuits was placed into his mouth and chewed.

'What do you want with me?' Abby asked.

'Oh, I've already gotten what I want,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Several times, in fact - though I am certain I will enjoy it a few more times before you return to the mundanity of your regular, boring life.' Abby pushed more as he spoke, if for no other reason than to have an outlet as she learned about her apparent performance in this man's house.

'While this is an enjoyable experience for me, Abby, I feel it is my duty to tell you what exactly it is you are doing in my bedroom.' he said through the speaker as the single lens watched her. 'You see, you are not a captive - in fact, you are not even locked in this house, though you are locked in that room. No - you are playing a game. You see, there is a lock on my door, and your task is to try to escape before I and finished with and leave this refreshing bubble-bath. If you do, my front door is unlocked - you may leave through it and never return. If you do not, then I will dry myself off and return to my bedroom, and you shall once more provide me with your womanly services, of which you are so very skillfully inclined.' Abby struggled again, and this time thought she felt a little give somewhere up underneath the bedframe.

'And I assume I'm supposed to be both consenting and conscious for this "servicing", should I not escape in time?' Abby asked.

'Oh, you will be both, my girl,' he assured. 'Just as you were before.'

Abby redoubled her efforts, focusing on the slight play she felt before. Pulling in a very specific way, she found that whatever her wrists were tied to - probably a slat in the frame - seemed to give under her efforts. She tried sliding the position of the zip tie left, then right, feeling the stiffness of the wood - the closer to the middle she went, the deeper she could bend the slat. Unfortunately, tied as she was to the corner, she could only go as far as her body would let her, which wasn't a huge distance. That was, unless...

'Why do I not remember anything?' Abby asked as she started to shuffle herself on the carpet. 'I assume you drugged me?'

'No, actually - far from it.' the reply came. 'In fact, you were rather inclined to putting out - I simply catalyzed the process; contained and channeled it, if you will.'

'With what, GHB?' Abby said, trying to edge herself to the right so that she could try to extend her left leg out from under her. It was tight, but if she could turn her hips so that the angle of her thigh was straighter...

'No, with a collar.' He replied. For a moment, nothing further came from the bathroom, save a little splashing. Abigale paused.

'A collar made me want to fuck you?' She asked, looking at the camera.

'Yes,' he replied. 'The very same collar you're wearing right now.' And as if noticing it for the first time, Abby looked down and felt something around her neck - not tight, but not loose, not large but not as thin as a cheap cat or dog collar. It had blended in so much with the rest of her body warmth that she hadn't noticed it, and somehow hadn't felt it around her neck when she had turned her head. Her heartbeat quickened as she felt it.

'And what does this collar do, exactly?' Abby asked, resuming her slow stretching. She was trying to shuffle her knees outwards by her toes so that she could afford just enough room to twist her leg and put her foot out straight, so that she could-

'Anything I want it to,' the reply came. 'Right now, it's in what's called passive mode, which means it is not doing anything specific to you. If switched on, however, it will assume complete control over your brain, rendering you entirely subdued and obedient to any order given to you. It's an ingenious product - works on brain wave hijacking and motor-neuron stimulus through the spine. Much more intelligent than anything I could understand, but when combined with a simple smartphone app, it's use becomes, well... Trivial.'

Panting slightly, Abby's legs burned as she strained to walk herself forwards. 'And how can I know it's not active right now, and I'm just doing what you've told me to do?'

'Oh, you are - but it's not as black and white as that. The collar can implant brain patterns - stimulate certain memories, insert ideas - a few of which are being used right now. Though- you have my word that nothing has been done to alter your personality or thought process right now. Trust me, if the collar was in control, you would not know it, but you would also not know anything not instructed to you - it is most definitely in its passive mode.' As he spoke, Abby's knees extended further forwards, and though it strained her tendons and muscles tightly, she felt she could almost manage to move her leg. Just a couple more pushes...

'So, what, I'm just your plaything then? A toy for you to get entertainment from as you live your life, having baths and relaxing as a living woman plays your game?' Abby asked tersely. Straining, she pushed hard, now bent sideways from her arms as she forced her leg up and around. There was a pop as her hip joint released a bubble and she jumped, gritting her teeth, and then - with the warm sting of friction, her ankle rushed over the carpet and her leg popped free in the space in front of her. She had managed it.

'Would you like to know what I know about you, Abby?' The voice asked evenly.

After a few moments to catch her breath and let the blood return to her extremities, Abby replied.

'Sure.' Why not pass the time as I run his stupid escape room, she thought. At least it keeps him talking.

'Abigale Fontane, thirty-two years old. Part-time student of law, part-time Uber driver. You have strawberry-blonde hair which you like to die more red; about long enough to cover your nipples. You like to dress in suits and believe you're particularly good at finding striking yet comfortable combinations of fitting undergarments and shirts with blazer jackets and suit pants. You wear a 36D bra and are of freckled-white physicality. The majority of your freckles are in three places; your face, your arms and your ass.' As Abigale pushed her right leg around painfully, rolling herself onto her left side as far as she could, she mentally checked off the list. Everything he had said so far was correct; he knew her, and better than most men knew a one-nighter woman; it was as if they had talked candidly about her for some time. Or, as if he had scrutinized her from top to tail... Best not to think about it.

'Another fun fact about you, Abigale Fontane, though one unique to your current predicament.' the voice said through a fresh cracker. He swallowed, and Abby turned to face him, tilting her head as much upright as sideways from her position on his floor.

'You are wearing a device which will do two things; first, provide you with feedback when you succeed in progressing through my escape room, and second...' He trailed off as Abby's right leg slipped around and free, leaving her sitting now flat on her ass. 'Give you a distraction to waste more of your precious time.'

As Abby sat on the carpet, panting and tensing her legs to relieve the cramped stiffness in them now that they were free, a sudden, explosive sensation burst to life between her legs. She gasped and bucked as something she had not previously felt before instantly turned on; a vibrator of some kind plugged deep into her body, so warm and carefully positioned inside her had it been that she had not felt it a bit until it was turned on. Now, vibrating powerfully from her exterior down into her deepest depths, it sent her body shaking and robbed her of thought. After a few seconds, it died away, gong still as quickly as it had started, and leaving Abigale panting and hanging from her bonds. Holy fuck, she thought as she recovered from the sudden sensory overload. That thing is fucking powerful.

'Sorry for not mentioning that earlier.' The voice said from the camera, clearly smiling. 'Just a little incentive - or perhaps, obstacle - for you to work through.'

Damn it, Abby thought as she caught her breath and sat upright again, now acutely aware of the thick shape locked tight inside her, reaching from end to end and fitting her perfectly so that no hope of squeezing it out seemed to exist. That felt way too fucking good. I nearly - I felt - ah, fuck, what has he done to me?

Again, as if reading her thoughts, the speaker crackled again. 'I suppose I was not completely truthful earlier when I said that you were entirely unaffected by the collar - although it is certainly not controlling you at the moment, there may be some... Residual implantations waiting for their specific triggers within your mind.'

Abby brought her mind back around with effort, focusing on her task. I need to get out of this, she thought. Sex toys and his teasing can't change that. And besides, if I can just get out of this spot, I can take off the toy and throw that camera away...

Abby refocused, thought about her next move. First, she walked her feet up until her legs were bent up in front of her, taking the opportunity to glance down between them to verify that there was in fact something there, as if that somehow confirmed the situation she was in. Was that the edge of something she could see in the center of her dark pants, or just a shadow? In this intimate lighting, she could hardly make out what was camel toe and what was captive Abigale sex toy. Shrugging, she put her back and thighs into lifting and pulled, feeling the bed lifting up slightly - but the edge of the bedframe dug painfully into her shoulders and she had to quickly give up on lifting.

'Here's another fun tidbit for you, Abby,' the speaker said as she relaxed again. 'You were the one who helped me set this up for you. You even put yourself in that position, helped me tie you in - granted I was the one who raised the idea of putting you in an escape room, but you really brought it to life. So, if you end up having just enough room to manage a particular movement or squeeze into a space, you do literally have only yourself to blame.'

Thinking, Abby wondered about bending the beam down again and started pondering how to move her arms further into the space below the bed. 'Why don't you tell me more of what you know about me?' She asked as she started to sidle herself downwards, flattening rather than lifting herself so that she laid in full on the carpet.

'I know that your left breast hangs a little lower than your right,' he said. 'I know that your pussy has a little more meat to it than you would like, and that you keep yourself unshaved to hide it - something that makes little difference, by the way, due to your natural hair colour.' Abby gritted her teeth as she shuffled downwards, feeling the pull of her pants on the floor as she worked to lay herself out. She was wearing what looked to be a simple pair of black slacks, soft fabric tied at the waist, and a tank top - her arms were free and her breasts sat in the natural shape of the shirt. Plain and homely, but enough to maintain modesty, for what good that did in front of a man she had apparently shown everything to. The fucker was teasing her now, using knowledge she normally kept to a party of one. She had to admit, it was partly working, distracting her and making her want to listen to hear what more he knew.

'I also know that you are bisexual, and that you enjoy penetration, but much prefer women to men.' he continued. 'I know that you carry a picture of your cat in your wallet, along with a black, blue and grey pocket sleeve for use at clubs. It's a cute little clip thing, loops into your back pocket so you don't loose it. I know that on at least one occasion it's been misread to mean black anal, but you only ever use thin anal vibrators during sex. Not a big fan of stretching, just enough to, uh, 'come at it from both sides', shall we say.' Abigale grimaced as she worked, recognising fact after fact as he spoke. How did he know so much about her?

'We did not only have sex, Abby.' he said a few moments later, once again seeming to read her mind. 'Though we did, several times. No - we have actually been together since last night, and in that time, we have shared breakfast and lunch, both of which did not involve penetration of anything other than our mouths with delicious food and drink. Yours was a gourmet steak and chips with dressing and garlic bread, while I had salmon and a delicious eastern salad that I don't dare try to mispronounce. All, might I note, on my coin, though I did offer and do not mind.' Abby shuffled herself underneath the bed as he spoke, now laid flat on the carpet. She hoped that if she put her left shoulder around the bed leg, that might just give her enough reach to -