Trappers Bend Ch. 05

Chapter 5: Ana, Rebellious or Confused?

The shower was excellent. The en-suite bathroom appeared to have been recently remodeled, with a large, jetted tub and shower combo, two sinks, and a bidet. Water pressure was excellent, and there was plenty of heat to wash away the stress of the day away. Even more useful for his purposes were the mobility options, presumably added to ensure Ana's aging parents didn't have a tumble. There was a mobility railing mounted behind the tub, another one beside the toilet, and a slotted bench mounted next to the shower to assist with dressing and undressing.

It contributed to Dane's strange, intoxicating sensation that this was all just Ana fulfilling her purpose. As if the girl had been destined to become his plaything from the moment her parents had laid eyes on the house.

There were other touches in the master bedroom that reinforced this sense. The four-poster bed was built of thick, solid oak — well-suited to secure a slave. The room was sparsely decorated, but the pieces in the room were high quality. There was an antique Chinese wardrobe, perfect for storing a few select toys, and a 19th century vanity to decorate his toy. And there was a little nook overlooking the street, with a rather heftily built chaise lounge that showed a number of possibilities.

Ana's apparent living habits only added to the sensation. Aside from a bathrobe and a slightly damp towel hanging in the bathroom, and a few outfits in one corner of the walk-in closet, there was almost no evidence of her in the room.

Apparently, she'd actually been residing in a small guest room on the first floor, despite the fact that most of the floor space was taken up by the bed, with only a small desk and chair, and a closet that was serviceable, but hardly spacious. It made no sense to Dane, unless on some level, she was anticipating a master to take possession of her family home, and dispose of her and his other possessions as he saw fit.

The one part of the room where Ana had made herself at home was the little reading nook by the window. She'd been apparently sorting her parents old books — a substantial pile of Cold War thrillers, grocery checkout erotica, and the odd self-help book, beside a smaller one of childhood favorites and a family photo album.

The small bookshelf was awkwardly piled with her should-be-readings: course packs, journals, and a couple of sociology books. But on the little table next to the chaise was what was no doubt occupying most of Ana's solo reading time: a small tablet, set out beside a little battery powered vibrator, sleeping away in its charging cradle.

This little spot more than anything else made the fantasy complete. Here he could force her to narrate her favorite fantasies, walk him through her family history, show how she made herself cum, or even have her explain her area of study if for some reason he suddenly took interest in it.

Afterwards, he thought, descending the stairs, he could enjoy a long slow blowjob, or spank and fuck her savagely over the chaise. Or he could simply leave her tied up while he attended to other matters. And then when he was done, he could dispose of whatever artifacts didn't suit her new purpose. He doubted the course packs would survive the winter.

Seeing Ana's current state, it was hard to imagine her fighting any of it. She knelt where he'd left her, pale and slumped forward, her head resting against Byron's knees as the man thumbed through a paperback, apparently oblivious to her plight entirely. As Dane approached, the man pushed her upright with his foot, until Dane caught her by the hair.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, standing and stretching.

"How did she behave?"

"Decent throat on Swallows here, but the attitude could use a lot of improvement," he said, walking off towards the downstairs bathroom. "Watch her."

Dane shook his head, smiling to himself. She'd never know it, but this was probably the most lavish praise he'd ever heard Byron use in front of a new girl. He'd even given her a nickname to commemorate what must have been a truly impressive blowjob.

Dane squatted in front of her, watching her morosely slurping on the plug gag. She looked exhausted, her hair in disarray, and drool dripping down her chest despite her best efforts. He had the strange sensation of wanting to wrap her up, hold her, comfort her, just to feel her gratitude and relief.

But he knew what "watch her" meant. Despite all appearances, a rebellion was brewing in the bedraggled slave girl. And he was going to provoke it before she had any more time to stew. She was meant to be his, and even her disobedience would be under his command.

"I see what he means. You can't stop sucking, can you slave? I love a girl who knows her calling."

She tried not to react. But he could see her belly tense, and hear a little angry murmur behind the gag, spilling saliva between her tits. He ran his fingers through it and almost wiped them on her face, but thought better of it when he noticed a streak of cum. Instead, he wiped them off in her hair. Dane was glad he'd put on a thick rubber apron over his clothes — the sort a dog washer might use. This was about to get messy.

"You're a filthy little whore, aren't you?" Dane said rhetorically, circling around behind her. He grabbed onto her harness with one hand, and her hair with the other and pulled, ordering Ana to stand up.

It was easier said than done. She whimpered and struggled to stand when he pulled her hair, but her legs were weak and, kneeling without use of her hands, she had no leverage.

The dildo squished as it slowly slid out of her, a counterpoint to her quiet slurping around the gag. She'd made a mess, as he had expected she would, her saliva and natural lubrication streaking the floor around the suction cup dildo.

"Want to see what a mess you made?" he asked.

She nodded. Of course she wanted use of her eyes, even if he was only removing the blindfold to humiliate her. That meant her mind was probably more alert than her appearance would suggest. He removed the blindfold and, pulling her hair, directed her gaze towards the ground.

"A lot of owners don't like slaves with messy holes. You're lucky I like a slut who's constantly dripping. It shows me that you know what you're made for."

She immediately pressed her legs together and whimpered, angling her head towards the stairs. Dane remembered that it had been hours since she'd gone to the bathroom.

"You need to go potty, girl?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm, mmm hmm!" she nodded, looking towards the stairs.

He contemplated blindfolding her again, but she'd have enough trouble making it upstairs on wobbly legs as it was. So carefully, he half dragged, half led her up, and sat her on the toilet.

Her legs were shaking now, and she started leaning to the side almost as soon as he released her, moaning through the gag until he caught her by the gag.

"Piss, slave," he said.

She made a little whimper, motioning towards the door with her head.

"I'm not in the mood for games, slave," he said, pressing down on her lower belly. Her eyes grew wide at that, staring at him, then closing in defeat as her bladder was forcibly emptied.

"Better," he said, gently wiping her clean, then flushing the toilet.

Dane could tell something had shifted inside her at this latest indignity. She shifted her legs, as if preparing to dig her feet in when he tried to pull her off the toilet. He could have easily overpowered her, but instead he reached over and opened the door to the shower stall. He smiled as she sat up straighter and nodded, ready to stand on command. After a full day of sex slave training, it was always a safe bet that a girl would want a shower.

He carefully lowered her down into the bathtub, with her arms still locked to the harness at wrist and bicep. Then he tied a cord to her right wrist cuff and looped it around the railing behind her. He unfastened the wrist and then the bicep from the harness each time taking up the slack so that she'd have no opportunity to put up a struggle, then repeated the process on the left. Soon, she was inclined on the floor of the tub, with her arms tied behind her.

She looked up hopefully as he turned on the water, spraying her with the detachable nozzle. She immediately started to squirm and complain at the cool stream of water, and even more at the stiff brush he used to clean her body. Instead of punishing her, he'd just rearrange her as he saw fit and get back to work. A pinch here and a slap there, and soon, she understood the futility of rebellion.

Dane had decided not to crack down too hard on petty transgressions for the same reason he hadn't begun her training with a list of explicit rules and regulation — he wanted her to internalize the rules herself. If she avoided any major transgressions, she would have a relatively easy first day. If she rebelled, her rebellion would be put down quickly and cleanly. Either way, a major step towards adapting to her new occupation.

So far, so good. She'd quickly settled down, allowing him to work his way up her legs and even clean some of the lube out of her holes with nothing but a few quiet grunts and groans. The drugs they'd given her had a slow but continuous taper. She was still weak, and exhausted on top of that, but not as weak as she'd acted on the way up — certainly strong enough to put up a fight.

He didn't want to wash her hair yet, filthy as it was. Byron had been working on setting up the house, but there was still a lot to do. The quicker they could get her bundled up and put away for a few hours, the better. And spending a few days with her hair filthy and matted would help drive home the message that her body was no longer her own.

He wet a washcloth and turned off the sprayer.

"I'm going to wash your face now. We will have a conversation later. Behave and you can have a more comfortable gag before I put you away tonight."

She nodded, and he removed the ring gag and plug. She worked her sore jaw and licked her lips, looking up at him. He'd expected her to act up immediately. Instead, she clasped her hands together above her as if begging, and mouthed one word.

"Please."

He smiled quietly at her, carefully running the washcloth over her face. She resigned herself to the attention, closing her eyes as he ran the washcloth up her face, washing the tears, grime, and snot away.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, shivering in the cold. He picked up the shower head again. She'd sat through the cleaning well for a new slave, and he wanted to give her a reward, if only so she'd know she had lost something when she was gagged and blindfolded again — a gentle, caring side to her Master that she would work to regain.

He gently rained the warm water on her body, following the spray with his fingers up and down her form. Slowly, she relaxed. Her eyes would open suspiciously at first when his hand would get too close to a nipple or an armpit, then they'd close as she seemed to remember she had no ability to ward him off. And soon, they only fluttered as he worked the last of the lube out of her nethers, his touch gentle and kind for the first time.

The wary look came back as he hung up the sprayer. She even pulled her head back and shook her head when he tried to return the ring gag, sans plug to her mouth.

"I was planning on making you comfortable tonight. If you make me force this in, I'll rethink that."

"Please," she said, quietly, "everything you've done to me, I can forgive it all if you'll just leave."

He reached for her hair, but she opened her mouth obediently for the ring, her eyes watching him intently. She was a smart girl, and seemed to have an intuitive sense of his limits, pushing just a little without seeming to challenge him directly.

"Really? Everything? And you won't even call the cops?"

"Uh huh."

"I don't know. You look so tempting there it would be hard to give you up — not without enjoying you one more time. I'd probably think a lot more clearly afterwards too."

She stared at him incredulously.

"You're right. It would never work. Way too much a risk to let you go, but I'm sure you'll get used to being a slave eventually.

"Uhh!" she said, shaking her head, and sticking her head out.

He picked up his phone off the counter, and switched to the camera, without pointing it at her.

"Are you sure? You really want me to fuck your face right now?"

"Yyyyeeethh."

He took out the gag and pressed record, pointing it at her face.

"Ask nicely, and I'll consider it."

"Please, fuck my face, Sir. I want you to enjoy me one more time before you leave."

He scowled, deleting the video.

"I don't accept ultimatums from slaves. Sounds like you'd rather be kept as a slave."

"No Sir, I'm sorry. Please, let me try one more time?"

"Asking me isn't enough anymore. Beg me, or you'll be punished for your disrespect."

She nodded.

"Please, Sir. I'd really appreciate if you'd fuck my face again. I can't get enough of your cock."

She sounded tired, barely plausible. He doubted she really believed he was going to let her go. She just figured she had nothing to lose by trying.

He slid back in the ring gag, removed his apron, and quickly toweled off her front. Then he straddled her on the floor of the tub, and pressed his cock in, laying it on her tongue.

"You're a very good cocksucker for an untrained girl," he said, thrusting in. "Do you know that?"

"Haangg you," she gulped around him.

"And so prolific. Didn't you just deepthroat my father twenty minutes ago?"

She flushed, looking down as he pulled out, waiting for her response.

"Yeh Hir," she said, quietly.

"You're very beautiful too. I'll miss your body, almost as much as your tongue," he confessed, wistfully. "Will you remember me?"

"Oh yeh Hirr," she gagged around him. That was one statement she clearly had no problem agreeing with.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed our adventure together. Now be a good girl and swallow it all."

He buried himself in her throat, savoring the way she squeezed him through his second blowjob of the day. Then he pulled out, still filming her as he wiped dry in her matted hair.

She caught her breath as he released her wrists and rebound her arms to the harness, one at a time. Then he lifted her to her feet, wrapped her in the towel, and helped her out of the shower.

He gave her a mournful look, as if already regretting the time they'd spend apart. Her eyes seemed alert now, and her legs were steadier, as he wrapped a stiff, high collar and wrapped tightly around her neck. She bristled, but didn't fight.

He unwrapped the towel thoughtfully. "If I let you go, you know I've got to cover my butt too."

She watched him intently out of the corner of her eye as he briskly dried her body.

"You'll admit everything we did so far was consensual before we let you go?"

"Uh huh," she said with a little pause between the two syllables. He could tell she wasn't entirely happy with his phrasing.

"Legs apart," he said in a commanding voice.

She seemed to jump to comply. He was Crouching now, his face level with her crotch as he worked the towel up her legs.

"And what I'm doing right now? This probably wouldn't be a problem either, right? I mean, I'm just drying you off from a nice shower."

She made a nervous grunt of assent, struggling to look down at him despite the collar as he planted a gentle kiss on her mound and stood up.

"You've given me a lot to think about. Will the offer still be open tomorrow?"

She looked at him for a long moment before reluctantly agreeing.

"Oh, good. Thanks Ana. That gives us time to try some of the other things we've planned for you," he said, slowly working his fingers down her belly.

"So, I don't want to impose, but is it okay if we invite some friends over for the evening? I mean, if it's our last night with you, we might as well make the most of it. And we'll be sure to get your consent on film." He slid a finger inside her as she tried and failed to hold his gaze, dropping her eyes in shame. Despite the shower, she was already slippery with lubrication.

He reached past her to grab the plug from the counter, and pressed it into her pussy. Ana gasped, her chest heaving and a beautiful look of fury in her eyes.

"Especially considering how much you seem to be enjoying things so far," Dane said, smiling obliviously as he shoved the plug into her mouth and locked it in the ring gag.

He let her seethe for a moment as he put back on the rubber apron.

"I'm just going to lock your hands behind your head so I can dry under your arms, okay? Behave so we can get the night's festivities underway."

She gave a little nod as he released the cuff on her left hand, then looked up at him. Her eyes were huge and gorgeous, he'd never seen them this close, and she gave him an animal look of rage and hope and arousal and despair, making a throaty moan through her gag.

"Hand on your head first, please," he said.

She moaned louder, raising her hand, running her finger across her lip. The message was clear: remove my gag, and I'll make it worth your while. Smart move to try to get the gag out and at least one hand free before she tried anything.

"You're insatiable! I see why dad wanted to call you Swallows. Get your hands on your head, and I'll make sure you have a whole night worth of cock to suck."

She looked down and then in one movement, reached out, grabbed his collar and tried to knee him in the crotch.

He was ready, she was exhausted and restrained. Needless to say, it didn't go like she'd planned. All she managed to do was shove the thick rubber apron against his groin — a little uncomfortable, but not the disabling blow she'd imagined. He barely even flinched, just grasped her by the harness, and wrist.

He slid her hand up her head.

"Hold it there, please," he said, releasing it.

She was shaking and whimpering as he let her go, and he had to resist the urge to reassure her. He simply walked behind her, reached up, and locked her wrist in place

"Now the other one," he said, as he released her right hand. She reached the shaking hand up behind her head. He reached up and locked it in place.

And then, suddenly boneless, Ana tumbled to the ground.

* * * * *

A layer of white noise had been gathering between Ana and the world since he'd taken her from the shower. It jumped up from her sex when he ran his finger between her lips and talked about using her all night, when he'd shoved the plug in her sex and through the ring gag. For a split second, when she'd kneed him, it seemed to be gone. Everything was clear, and she was ready to run as he crumpled to the ground.

And then he'd looked at her, not even angry — not even rattled — and repeated the command to put her hand behind her head. It was if it hadn't even happened, as if she'd imagined it all, and her captivity and enslavement were all inevitable, already written somewhere. And as he locked away her other wrist, her legs wouldn't carry her anymore.

Even falling felt inevitable, destined. He'd surprised her by spinning her in flight, wrapping his hands around her to cushion her head and protect her elbows. His efforts weren't perfect — she impacted hard on her hip. But she'd expected to wake up in a hospital, if at all, and now all she had was a nasty bruise.

She was still a captive. She looked up at his face, separated from her by the haze. He looked concerned, and of course he was. He planned to enjoy her for a long time. He'd seemed almost ready to let her go. She'd been stupid to even consider it possible.

She knew what a panic attack was. She'd talked friends down from them before, and she'd had some of the symptoms a few times — racing heart, shallow breathing, mild dissociation. But she'd never felt her mind refuse to see the world as something connected with her before. She'd never felt control slip until her brain simply overheated and glitched out.