Owned: A New Friend

Content Warning:

This is a very dark fantasy filled with non-consent, humiliation, sexual slavery, and abuse. If that sentence makes you excited, keep reading. If anything about that might be a hard limit for you, do NOT read this. Some of us get off to fucked up stuff. Let's respect that.

*****

"I found her!"

There's so much excitement in the whisper that her voice is almost shaking over the phone. Not that I blame her. The feeling blossoms in me as well, radiating out from my groin in a hot, prickly flush.

"Tell me," I say.

When people fantasize-or reflect in horror-on long term sexual captivity, they tend to focus on the salacious parts: the depraved sex and humiliation, the violence, the cruel twisting of one's psyche from long term use and abuse. But nobody thinks about the preparation.

Or the patience.

I have a partner in this, Claire, a 29 year-old who works in casting for the city's film and television industries. It's always been a passion of hers, but after we met four years ago, and began to open up to one another about our shared interests, her job took on a lovely new benefit: it put her in contact with a neverending stream of fresh, eager women with bright eyes, high hopes, and few connections in town.

We've played with a few of these toys, sending them away confused and hurt by what was done to them. A few even reached back out afterwards, seeking it again. We indulge them, these uncertain, troubled ones, for as long as we can revel in their dismay.

But over time, new fantasies were spoken aloud in the darkness. Fantasies about keeping one of these naive, innocent girls. How long do you think we could keep her? Do you think she'd come to accept what's happening? Even if she did, it probably wouldn't be anything like happiness, would it?

The imagined fear and humiliated resignation our fantasy girl would live with day in, day out, set a low fire going in both of us, and we wrung orgasms out of each other in every possible way until we lay spent, breathless on my bed.

But the fire didn't go out. Over time it spread from the hungry, primal parts of our thoughts to the calculating. Fantasies became schemes became plans. I borrowed against my apartment on the lower East side, and bought a house two hours from the city. I spent a year renovating it, hiring different contractors to keep the nature of my plans secret, and even put the finishing touches on it myself.

It's been finished for the past eight months, sitting there, waiting. Claire's come out with me several times, to fuck in the basement as we imagine the life this poor girl is going to lead. And all the while, she's been keeping an eye out, waiting for our perfect plaything. Not just beautiful, but excitable, clever, joyous. The kind of woman you could fall in love with.

In addition to being new to the city, and entirely unattached.

All of this flashes though my thoughts as I hear those three words over the phone. And all of it remains in the forefront of my mind as Claire tells me about this woman. She does indeed sound perfect. Anna, a 23 year-old dancer with a sly grin and quick wit, the sort who is finally beginning to believe in her own potential. I can practically hear how wet Claire is as she describes this woman's confidence, its inevitable destruction hanging in the air over our conversation.

"So when should we..." I swallow the heat in my throat, "have her over?"

Claire giggles.

"I asked her to get a drink with me tomorrow night."

36 hours later and it's done. Anna lies on the bed in my basement, sleeping off the powder Claire slipped into her drink. I wondered if it would really be so easy, but Claire just smiled at me.

"She'll trust me," she'd said. She was right.

The drug didn't incapacitate her right away, just made her groggy and confused. Enough that she didn't watch too carefully as Claire ordered her an Uber, and didn't check the windshield to ensure that my car was, indeed, on the company's payroll. She seemed confused when we got to the Lincoln tunnel, but Claire just told her she lived in Jersey. Anna mumbled another question, but her eyelids were too heavy to enunciate it clearly. She was halfway through repeating it when she fell asleep.

Now Claire and I watch breathlessly through the panel of TV screens as Anna begins to stir. She slowly sits up in bed, and seems confused by her surroundings.

"Hello?" she calls, standing.

This is when she notices the chain around her ankle, connecting to the reinforced bed frame. "What the fuck...?"

There's panic in her voice now, and Claire moves my hand under her skirt and puts it to her cunt as we watch. It's so wet and swollen that she's leaking down her thigh. I put her hand on my cock, and she massages its hardness though my pants. We lock eyes, perfect for one another. And then we both return to the screens.

Anna is yanking on the chain now, leaning back with the force of it. She seems to be fighting back tears. Pausing, she calls out again, more cautiously this time. She knows she's calling to whoever did this to her. She sees the plexiglass bulbs in the ceiling, and correctly assumes they're cameras. She picks one and directs her attention to it.

"Please," she says, feebly, "I can... I can give you money."

Claire presses the intercom, and Anna jumps as the static crackles over the speakers.

"Yeah? Lot of money in being a struggling actress these days?"

Anna takes a moment to place the voice, still shaking off the remnants of the drug. Then she has it.

"You!" she yells at the camera, her brow furrowed, "what the fuck is wrong with you? Let me go, you crazy bitch!"

I press the button this time. "No. And your room is soundproofed, so stop screaming."

The speed with which her rage is replaced by fear makes Claire moan softly next to me. Anna hadn't heard my voice yet, and I suddenly make obvious the wide chasm of unknown before her. She retreats back onto the bed, pulling in her legs as she stares off into space.

"Why am I here?" she asks softly.

Claire and I look at each other, and decide that formal introductions are in order. We leave the bedroom, with its wall of televisions, (so cheap these days) and go to the basement. Claire grabs a bag from the wall, and we let ourselves through both security doors into the small, windowless apartment I've set up for our guest.

She starts as we open the door, and stares at us with an animal caginess. There's fear, yes, so much fear, but also anger, and resilience, and, oh God yes, hope. I close the door behind us and approach the bed.

"I think we can probably do away with this for now..." I say, unlocking the cuff around her ankle.

It's a calculated move, and Claire and I prepared for it. As soon as the lock is undone, Anna brings a strong leg up between my legs.

Or rather she tries. I've been taking jiu jitsu for the past year and a half, and every single hour was worth it for this moment. I twist, catching her calf, and apply leverage. She falls to the floor, scrambling with her hands as she makes a sound between a scream and a sob. Then Claire hits her with the stun gun, and this noise rises in pitch until it's a shriek. Claire hits her twice more, touching herself with her free hand as Anna writhes in agony. Using the ankle still in my grip, I drag her back in the direction of the bed, smiling as she desperately claws at the floor, composure gone. I reattach the cuff, and back away.

Anna cries on the bed, helplessness fueling her tears even after the pain subsides. Claire and I just watch, hungrily. Finally, feeling our eyes on her, Anna falls silent.

"Why?" she asks, when she can form words.

"Because it's so fucking hot," Claire says, the words pouring from her lips.

Anna looks at her in shock, then at me, then back to the greedy slut on my left. "This... this is just about sex?!"

Claire scoffs. "Said like someone who's never gotten off."

Anna screams at her. "Or maybe I just don't need to fucking kidnap and torture someone to cum!"

"And neither do we," I say, silencing Claire's retort. "We've demonstrated repeatedly with one another that we're more than capable of getting off by ourselves."

"Then why-?!"

I hold up a finger and Anna falls silent, her eyes flicking to the stun gun. The obedience is good, but I'll have to make sure she fears me as much as Claire. That'll be a good first project.

"Surely you're not that confused, not really," I say, crouching down. I spread her legs, and she resists at first, but a sharp slap to her thigh makes her more pliable. She bites her lip as I unbutton her shorts and pull them down, revealing a sporty black thong. I arch an eyebrow, seeing it, and she turns red and looks away. I begin by caressing the fabric over her clit, slowly waking up the nerves there and sending confusing streaks of pleasure up her spine.

"Surely you know the difference between a basic release," I say, dragging my fingers deliberately over the places that make it hardest for her to control her twitching, "and a truly mind-altering orgasm. The kind where time freezes and nothing makes sense anymore besides yes, this, more of this please." I pause my fingers, and in spite of herself there's a tiny intake of breath. Of disappointment. I begin moving my fingers again. She hates me, but allows it. "Now some people have it easy. They just need the right touch, the right string of words, and they can get there. But others, like Claire and myself, have a more difficult time scratching that particular itch. And that brings us to you." I remove my fingers.

"But... I'm a person," she says, shaking off the memory of my touch, "a whole, complete human being, with goals and dreams and a future. You can't just, take all that away. Just to... cum really hard?"

She explains it gently, reasonably, as though to a child just learning about empathy for the first time. Hey voice carries the feeling well. She would indeed make a great actress. Maybe I'll have Claire get her a part in something, if we decide to let her go.

"I disagree," I say simply. She reacts as though I've slapped her again. "We've done the ethical calculus, and determined that yes, this is worth it to us."

The steadiness drains from her face and she's lost again, smaller and more helpless than any time so far.

"It's getting late, so we'll get into rules tomorrow, but tonight we have two more things to attend to. One," I pull out her phone from my pocket, "we'll need to unlock this. Two..." I smile, conveying two.

Anna moves towards the bed, curling up against it in a position that makes her feel safest. She shakes her head.

"You're not going to give me the pass code?" I ask, grinning at Claire. We were hoping for this.

She shakes her head again, setting her lip and trying to wall herself off behind her dignity. Claire reaches into her bag, and Anna's breath catches. Instead of the stun gun though, Claire pulls out handcuffs and a metal contraption that Anna doesn't recognize.

"Two birds with one stone then," I say, smiling. Suddenly I seize Anna's hair and pull her down onto her chest. She screams and grabs at my wrist, but I ignore her. Instead, Claire passes me the cuffs and I lock one around Anna's wrist, then twist it behind her back. I follow with the other, restraining her. Ever careful, I double-lock the cuffs so she doesn't hurt herself more than I intend. Then I drag her up to her knees, reaching out for the gag from Claire.

"No no please, I don't need that," she says, panicking as she realizes the basic objective of what Claire is handing to me.

"Until I can trust otherwise, I believe you do." I wrap an arm around her neck from behind, holding her head in place. Claire watches, hypnotized as she sinks into the chair in the corner and touches herself. Prying Anna's mouth open, I thrust the dental gag between her teeth and strap it behind her head. Then I click it open, one notch at a time, watching the look in her eyes as the panic deepens. I see her try to shut her mouth, but the hinges of the gag don't even creak. With a full-body sob, she realizes she can't do anything to stop this, and I free my cock from my clothes.

The struggling has destroyed the last of my self control, and I bottom out in her throat in one thrust. She gags about halfway down, her back arching away from me as her body tries to pull away from the violation. I don't allow it. I let her thrash at the end of my cock for twenty seconds as she coughs saliva all over my balls, then pull out. The spit pours from her lips in long, viscous strings, dripping onto her tits.

"Mmm let me see her chest," Claire coos. She already sounds close. No surprise there. She's been able to cum repeatedly just from discussing this.

I tear the tank top down the middle, revealing a hard-working sports bra. I pull the straps of this down her shoulders, and reach in roughly to pull out her tits. It's a rude, manhandling process, and when I step behind her to squeeze her chest and show them off to Claire, Anna buries her face into my side, trying to disappear.

"Mmm I love those," Claire says, her face flushing, "surprised you tried to get into acting though. Don't you know we look for thin, innocent looking girls? With tits like that you'd be lucky to get typecast as the cheap whore."

Anna makes a noise that tells us the comment hit its mark, and my cock pulses. I step around and thrust it down Anna's throat again. Spit bursts out her lips as her nose starts to run, and her makeup smears around her eyes. I begin to pull out and thrust back in in long, deep strokes, feeling her throat clench every time I pass her gag reflex. Her eyes start to roll back in her head as she sinks into the headspace of an object, trying to go somewhere mentally where the abuse doesn't reach her. I reach down to slap one of her tits, bringing her eyes into focus again. When they do, and the reality of her present hits full force, the look on her face makes Claire cum harder than I've ever witnessed before. She doubles over on the chair, clenching the armrest and squeezing her masturbating hand between her thighs. When she finishes, she sprawls out, panting. It's enough to get me close myself, but first I need some information.

"Now, you can tell me the pass code to your phone, or I'll keep this up until you pass out, and make you sleep in a puddle of your own mess." I reach under her chin to catch some of her dripping spit and rub it in her face. She whines pitifully around my cock, but nods her head.

I smile, and hold up her phone.

"Lick me as many times as the first number," I say, pulling halfway out her mouth. She winces, but as my grip tightens in her hair she quickly runs her tongue up the underside of my cock. Once, twice, three times. She pauses. I enter three so she can see it. With a pathetic moan, she licks again, six times now. I moan in pleasure as she gives me her entire code, giving us most of her life. We'll get the rest tomorrow when we go to clean out her apartment.

Her phone unlocked now, I set myself to getting off. I fuck hard and deep, treating her mouth like a different hole as I drive down over and over again, laughing at the spit that bubbles out around my cock as Claire nears a second orgasm. Seeing this pushes me over the edge, and our eyes meet as I fill Anna's throat with my cum. I hold her in place as I recede from my peak, long enough that she starts shaking again. Finally I let her go, and push her back against the bed. She gasps for air and coughs, saliva and cum spilling out from her open mouth as she struggles to clear her airway. Her tits shine with the evidence of her abuse as she lies there, in shock at what just happened. She keeps staring off into space as I undo the gag and take it out of her mouth. I unlock the ankle chain too, but leave the handcuffs.

"Through that door is your bathroom," I say, pointing, "use it as you like. But since you were such an unruly bitch, the cuffs stay on tonight."

She finally processes what I'm saying, and turns to look at me as I put my cock away and button my pants. Claire and I open the door to leave, and from the look on Claire's face, to fuck some more. Anna just stares up at us from the floor.

"But-" she starts before I leave her in silence.