Subject Echo

Light streamed in through the cracks of the heavy rolling metal door, not enough to light the interior of the makeshift cell, but just enough to keep the subject sane. She didn't know how long she had been here, nor did she know how long she would be kept here. Naked, cold and alone she laid silently on her thin sleeping mat, focusing her mind on the sound of water dripping down onto the concrete floor. Her mind had been completely emptied by her Savior, all she could do was sit and impatiently wait for him to come to her again.

With a hazy recollection, she thought back to when she first awoke in this place. One moment she was stuck at some dive bar in the middle of nowhere waiting out a storm with a cold beer and the next she was bound, gagged, and stripped of her clothing, stuck helpless in the pitch black. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against her restraints, the makeshift cloth gag made her screams for help incomprehensible. It was then when her Savior first visited her. When she initially imagined her captor, she pictured someone brutishly evil, someone who would use her and dispose of her lifeless corpse on the roadside she once traveled. Yet when the Savior first came to her, he was gentle with her, caressing her mascara stained cheeks and tracing every inch of her adrenaline pumped skin with his soft fingers. Subject Echo he called her.

Subject Echo remembered that initial meeting because it was when her Savior gave her her purpose. He saw something in her that no one else had. The way the Savior held her chin in his hand and told her exactly what he had planned for her was burned into her brain.

"You're here because I know what you can become."

The meaning of the Savior's words wasn't clear to her at first, but it wasn't long before he showed Subject Echo exactly what he meant. Being given her new life purpose was one of the last solid memories that remained in Subject Echo's mind. Only brief flashes of that day occasionally came to her, the feeling of the Savior's hands around her neck, the feeling of his teeth digging into her skin, the feeling of her cunt being stuffed full of his thick, throbbing cock. Subject Echo knew her Savior's ways so well by now, slow and controlled yet forceful and controlling. Even on that first day as she was filled with fear, a small part of her brain knew that this is where she belonged. With every scratch, every bite, every stifled scream that tried to escape her gagged lips, the Savior's purpose was being implanted in her brain.

Nowadays Subject Echo didn't do much thinking at all, which didn't bother her in the slightest. The Savior said good girls don't need to think, they just need to serve. The process of arriving at this mindless state was an arduous one, filled with what seemed like daily training from the Savior. Subject Echo couldn't be sure of the exact timeline, the concept of time passing was lost to her after spending so long in the darkness. Events were remembered in stages. At first there was the bound stage, one which the scars on her wrists and ankles reminded her of. The bound stage was when the Savior kept her tied up to make sure she wouldn't try to escape before he programmed her. During the bound stage, the Savior made sure to instill in her the most important lessons she could learn. She was useless without being able to serve him, her life was meaningless before this, and that she belonged fully and completely to him.

The Savior says that Subject Echo tried to fight at first, yet she doesn't remember how to fight back anymore. All she remembers from the bound stage is the feeling of her ropes digging into her soft skin every time she moved, hands which seemed to roam her body at her every waking moment, and the sweet sound of the Savior's voice whispering into her ears. Soon it hurt too much to writhe against her restraints, and that was when her Savior moved on to his next stage; stage stimulation. Subject Echo couldn't remember stage stimulation very well either, but her subconscious took to the programming very well. The Savior said that all of her senses were unbalanced and that he needed to refigure her if she were to become the toy she was always meant to be.

A wave of relief washed over Subject Echo when she awoke one day to find she had been untied, yet she felt a cold metal object wrapped around her waist and thighs with a persistent vibration in between her legs. The small shreds of her instincts pushed her to try to claw off the contraption, yet it was no use. It wasn't long before she had to give in to the pleasure, orgasm after orgasm rolling over her. After being untied, Subject Echo attempted to pace along the stone walls of what she now assumed to be a storage unit, to try to keep herself sane. But her attempts failed against the powerful sensations in her cunt. Each orgasm made her grow weaker, making it so she was unable to walk, unable to stand, unable to think. All she could do was lay down in the growing pile of her own cum and succumb to the pleasure she had no way of fighting.

Subject Echo had vague recollections of the Savior coming to visit her during that time, yet she wasn't sure if it was reality or just some fucked up fever dream. He would wipe away the sweat and tears from her face, telling her how pretty she looked as she twisted and contorted from her inescapable pleasure. She tried to beg him to stop, to let her go, yet she was incapable of forming any sort of coherent communication. All that could escape her mouth was raspy, animalistic moans. This seemed to please the Savior as he always reminded her that fighting his plans for her was useless. Subject Echo was finally starting to see the truth in that.

The next stage Subject Echo could remember was stage deprivation. It started just as she remembered the last stage, waking up and adjusting to a new sensation. Yet this time instead of stimulation, it was a lack thereof. At this point Subject Echo had to assume her Savior was able to tamper with her food or drink, drugging her when he saw fit. Logic was beginning to become a foreign concept to her, and the only thing she could think was she hoped he wasn't incapacitating her as he used her body. Not because she felt violated but because she didn't want to miss out on a single second with her precious Savior. She didn't want to miss a single second of being able to fulfill her purpose of pleasing him.

Without her orgasms, Subject Echo felt empty. She had grown accustomed to the endless waves of pleasure her Savior had graciously bestowed on her. Missing the stimulation, Subject Echo desperately rubbed at her swollen clit, trying to replicate the powerful vibrator that was stuffed inside of her for what felt like forever. She hoped that her Savior would arrive soon to fill her holes and make her feel whole again. Yet more time passed than she felt was usual, and even more time after that. Subject Echo lay dejectedly on her mat, pawing at her pussy, waiting for her Savior to come to her. All she could think about was him. She felt like she had been demoted to a poor little puppy dog just waiting for their owner to come home. This stage was full of waiting.

Any time Subject Echo heard the metal door creak in the wind, her eyes would perk up to the sound, hoping it was her Savior. When he finally did come around, all Subject Echo could do was beg. She begged to be filled by his cock, she begged to service him, she begged for him to touch her needy cunt even one time before he would inevitably leave again. Every time he returned to see her, she begged even more, not knowing when she would see him again. The Savior found himself shoving her off him as she crawled to his leg, humping his dirty work boots and grasping for his belt buckle. Seeing her so pathetic and desperate was exactly where he wanted her. Sometimes her Savior couldn't help but strike her to the ground she practically lived on, and Subject Echo was grateful for even this. Pain and pleasure were all becoming one to her, all that mattered was it was coming from her Savior.

The final stage and the one that Subject Echo lived for now was stage service. This was the ultimate privilege her Savior told her. Subject Echo couldn't argue with him even if she still retained the capacity to. Nothing remained in her broken little brain besides thoughts of her Savior and pleasing him.

Some days he would visit her, he would tell her those days were Christmas or even maybe her birthday, yet she didn't know what those things were anymore. All she knew were those were the days her Savior told her she could pick her favorite meal, and every time without fail she would choose his amazing cum to fill her stomach. That always made her Savior chuckle, but she didn't know why. Having his hot load shot down her throat was the most amazing thing she could imagine anymore. If her Savior wasn't pumping one of her holes with his seed, it would feel like a waste.

Subject Echo lived for her Savior now, always dreaming about being fucked and stuffed, always thinking about when she would be blessed with his presence next. Each time he visited her, she assumed the position that he had taught her. On her knees, mouth open. Some days her Savior was quick with her and other days Subject Echo was left stretched and messy, laying in a pool made of a mixture of all their fluids after being used for what felt like an eternity. Those days where she was wet with cum and spit were her favorite. Subject Echo wasn't sure how long she had been there, she wasn't sure where she came from, she wasn't sure of anything really, but all she knew for certain is that this is where she belonged and she never wanted to leave.