Trappers Bend Ch. 06

Chapter 6: Ana Gives Herself Away

"Did the little bitch try to escape already?" the father asked, maliciously.

Ana was back in the living room, her arms sore from being held behind her head for so long.

"She's sorry," Sir said, pulling her to a stop. "We had a talk, and we figured out what her problem was. She's a confused little girl who needs a tighter leash. Except we used a different word. Want to show him, Ana?"

She took a deep breath, and tried to speak through the gag. Byron laughed.

"You're gagged, sweetie."

"I said show him, honey. Remember? It's your new name?"

Ana spread her legs silently. She felt her lips pull wetly apart, her earthy, slightly spicy scent growing stronger as she pressed her hips forward, her eyes downcast.

"Belly button? Bush?" The older one asked. "I don't get it."

She could hear the mocking smile in his voice. He'd been there for the whole conversation, but seemingly couldn't resist an opportunity to humiliate her.

"You'll have to be a little clearer, sweetie," Sir murmured in her ear, spinning her so her back was to the older one. "Why don't you get on your knees."

Gripping her under the armpits, Sir turned her away from his father and lowered her to her knees, then knelt in front of her. "Lean forward," he murmured, his hands on her shoulder to catch her. She could almost feel the older one's eyes on her as she leaned into Sir. Slowly, Sir lowered her down until her forehead was pressed against the floor, her sex still open and waiting for the terrible old man's touch.

It didn't come. He wasn't even interested enough to get off his chair.

"Yeah, I suppose cunt is as good a name for her as many," said the older one. "But I don't know. She really worked for the name Swallows."

She heard the chair creaking as he leaned towards her exposed holes, and felt his warm breath between her cheeks, her sphincter clenching and her skin prickling in humiliation.

"I guess she has some strong feelings about it," the older one chuckled.

"Cunt is fine with me, though. It's not like the whole house smells like your throat, is it, cunt?"

The two men shared a laugh at her expense, as Sir pulled her up off the floor.

"Good cunt," he murmured, steadying her on her knees. "Up now."

Ana grunted and awkwardly put one foot on the ground, raising herself with the help of Sir's hand tugging at her harness.

"Cunt actually chose the name to remind us how to train her, see?"

He slid one finger inside her and clicked his tongue, flexing it against her front wall and pulling to force her to walk. At first, she thought he was just moving her closer to the older one, but he kept walking, turning her slightly as he went. Sir was parading her for his amusement, she thought.

"Elbows back, cunt," he said. "Your tits are half the reason we made you a slave. Show them off for Master."

She pulled back her elbows, feeling the man who she would apparently be expected to call Master leer at her, but unable to meet his gaze. The sensation broke her concentration, and Sir's finger dug painfully into her as she stumbled into him.

"Steady, pet," Sir said, holding her harness as the finger slowly curled and thrust inside of her. She whimpered, feeling her legs shake, suddenly terrified she'd collapse.

"Look at me," Sir commanded, switching his grip to her collar and yanking. She stared up into his cruel eyes, her breath racing, the collar tight around her neck.

"That's good, cunt. See, your legs are steadier now. Good girl. Now I'm going to take out your gag, and you're going to stay quiet, okay?"

She nodded, dropping her gaze and breathing a sigh of relief as he removed his finger to pull out the plug gag, his other hand still holding her collar. Then, with the ring still in, he placed his wet finger in her mouth, giving the collar a little shake. She ran licked it clean, feeling her legs start to tremble again as she once again tasted her arousal from Sir's finger. He removed the ring gag without saying a word.

He moved moved to the side, and she noticed he'd positioned her in front of the older one — the one she was supposed to call "Master."

He looked up at her with muted interest from the same chair he'd sat on when he'd forced his cock down her throat. It was absurd. The two had staged every moment of this — he was anything but disinterested. And yet it worked. She felt herself cowering from this man for whom a trembling captive was merely a sight of mild amusement.

"Tell Master why you wanted me to call you 'cunt,'" Sir said, squeezing her lips as if to remind her of the humiliating name.

"Because I'm...." She trailed off, dropping her eyes as soon as Master looked up. It wasn't embarrassment over the line. Suddenly she couldn't even remember. Why was she called... that?

Master motioned, and she involuntarily groaned as Sir pulled her closer, holding the collar too high so she had to balance on the balls of her feet.

"Forgot already? Didn't you say this was some smart college cunt?" He stroked her red bush downwards with his finger tips, like an animal pelt.

"It's tough being a smart slave, but it's worse being a dumb one," Master said. "What kind are you?"

"I'm... I'm pretty smart, Master."

He tugged sharply on her bush, and she looked at him with a gasp. And then suddenly, his look softened.

"Maybe you're just a little off your game today, is that it?"

"Yes, Master," she said. "I'd say it's been a... a hard day for me."

He smiled at that, and Ana felt a tremendous feeling of relief.

"Well, maybe you should ask Sir to help you remember why you wanted to be named 'Cunt?'"

She nodded, wondering whether she was supposed to turn her head to look at Sir.

"Sir, I can't remember why I asked to be named 'Cunt.' Could you help me remember?"

"You're confused, sweetie," Sir said, in a voice you might use to guide a sleepwalking child back to bed. "Do you remember? It's because you're confused."

"Yes, Sir," she said. This whole thing was confusing. Then it clicked.

For a moment she was so excited that she blurted it right out as if it were the answer to a trivia question that no one else could answer.

"I'm a confused little cunt, who needs-"

"Oh God," Ana whispered, hearing the childish excitement in her voice.

"It's okay, you're so close!" Sir said, matching her momentary enthusiasm. "Deep breath and start again," Sir said.

"I'm a confused little cunt who need... a tighter leash."

The older one tugged sharply.

"I'm putting in the effort to help train you, cunt. Speak to me with respect."

"Sorry, umm, Sir!" she squeaked.

Sir reached down and gave her ass a reassuring pat. "You're getting confused again, little cunt. I'm Sir, he's Master. You can do it."

"Yes, Mas- I mean, Sir!" She felt her legs wobble as Master tugged rhythmically on her bush, her body shaking with humiliation.

"Anytime, cunt," the older one said, slowly sliding his fingers down.

Ana took a deep breath, forcing herself to look right in his eyes, and blurted out, "Master, I'm a confused little cunt who needs a tighter leash!"

The older one smiled, taking his hand off her mound and patting her ribs.

"Good girl. A little slow, but you get there eventually."

Ana squeezed her eyes shut, shaking with fury and fear and humiliation, and that awful, endless arousal that had never stopped building.

She looked to the side. "Sir, can I ask-"

"Not right now, cunt. We're going to practice so you won't forget next time. Pretend I'm someone meeting you for the first time." Without warning, he clipped a leash to her collar and lead her to the entrance of the room.

"Your owner brings you to an event — a slave sale, or maybe a party."

He led her over to the corner.

"He leaves you here on display. As a well-trained slave," he said, fixing her with a very severe look, "you know to display yourself attractively, answer any questions truthfully, and comply with any requests."

He stepped back, staring at her. She pulled her elbows back, thrusting out her chest.

"Good. Now in a moment, I'll be a stranger approaching you."

"Yes Sir," she said, feeling incredibly vulnerable, and distant, and dazed.

She'd had fantasies like this before, especially when she was younger. She'd be displayed, bid on, led off to serve a man's pleasure. The fantasies would never go past the actual auction. She'd cum (sometimes just once, sometimes for the final time) as the man was leading her off. She'd barely even thought about what they might do to her after.

It had felt safe, innocent even, because it seemed so fantastically improbable. Now it was just one more thing they might decide to do with her. "A slave sale, or maybe a party," he'd said.

"Is this, available?" he asked, his voice and gesture suggesting her body was a vaguely interesting piece of furniture at a garage sale.

"Yes, Sir," she said, looking down.

"Interesting," he said. "What's your name, slave?"

"Cunt, Sir," she said.

"Did your Master choose that for you?"

"No Sir," she said, her own voice strangely flat in her ears.

"So who named you, cunt?"

"I did, Sir."

He grabbed her sex in his hand, and squeezed, without penetrating her. Like a stranger who felt fully entitled, but wasn't convinced she was worth dirtying his fingers. She felt his other hand grasp her harness, steadying her.

"Why did you want the name Cunt, slave?"

"Because I'm a confused little cunt who needs a tighter leash, Sir," she said.

He picked up the leash as if seeing it for the first time, and pulled upwards. She immediately straightened up, the shaking in her legs not stopping entirely, but abating.

"I see what you mean," he said smiling. "Let's do one more try to make sure it gets through your little head, okay?"

She let out a little whine that wanted to be a scream and crashed into him. Her thighs were wet, her head was spinning. She wasn't sure if she wanted to attack him or beg him to fuck her or sob on the ground, but she knew she was moments away from losing all control. So she cried out the one word she felt she could safely say:

"Sir!"

"What is it, cunt?"

"Sir, will you please gag me again, and... and put me away like you said? This cunt really needs her leash!"

And then Sir wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, holding her tightly as she sagged in his arms.

"Breathe, sweetie," he murmured into her ear. "You're a good girl for asking. Good cunt."

He pulled the blindfold down over her eyes, and the darkness and touch calmed Ana.

As he held her, she heard Master wheel some sort of contraption closer, and lock the wheels — something she'd noticed as soon as they took off the blindfold, but never quite seen. Something that definitely hadn't been there this morning.

"Turn around to the right, slowly," Sir said, gently guiding her into position.

"Good. Now straight back with your left leg."

She stepped backwards onto a low, narrow metal platform just a little larger than her foot. Behind it was a solid, thinly padded vertical plane. Dane had her step up with her other foot onto a parallel platform, then carefully leaned her back, her body settling against a padded vinyl surface. When he fastened the first strap under her armpits, she felt a strange but palpable rush of relief. That she was trapped was a give, but now at least she wouldn't fall again.

Strap by strap, they fastened her down. She gave no resistance, as they uncuffed her hands and then extended them above her head, and soon she was standing in an X-shape, her entire body, from wrists to her ankles, strapped to a solid frame. There was click, as they released the platforms under her feet, and she gasped as her body sagged slightly in the bonds. Even knowing that the straps would support her, the feeling of hanging in air, with nothing under her feet and nothing to hold on to brought back a touch of vertigo.

Mostly, she just felt resigned to the device, and with that resignation came a sense of peace. When they left, she'd test her bonds in the hope that they'd left something open, but Ana knew the odds were slim. Until then, the best thing she could do was rest and gather her strength.

And then a hand grabbed her index finger and pressed something flat and plastic against her finger, which responded with a gentle, synthesized click. Her calm shattered in an instant. They'd just unlocked her phone.

Ana had somehow forgotten about their plan to grill her, and was terrified of what they might ask. Even with her phone unlocked, there might be dozens, even hundreds of little obligations, expectations and details that they wouldn't know about — things that could give away something was wrong if she neglected them.

There were bills and birthdays, chats with friends and messages with colleagues. What could she hide and how? And what risks would it pose for the other people in her life? After what they'd done to her, she had no illusions that her loved ones would be safe. She desperately needed a plan to get herself free without exposing anyone else to undue danger, but how could she take stock from here? She didn't know these men, their plans, or what they already knew about her.

The only thing she could really do was wait and try to stay calm. So that's what she tried to do. She focused on her breathing for several minutes, listening to the quiet clicking as they poured through the minutiae of her life. Then there was a hand stroking her stomach gently, reaching down to scratch the top of her mound. Sir's hand.

"In a moment, I'm going to take out your gag. You will answer our questions truthfully and respectfully, and will not say anything else. If you behave, you will earn a chance to ask your own questions later this week. Otherwise, there will be serious consequences. Is that understood?"

Ana mumbled out her agreement. It was strange how tired she suddenly felt. A moment before, she'd been struggling to prepare herself, but facing both of them, naked, blindfolded, and tied down, the task seemed impossible. She worked her mouth for a moment, stretching her jaw.

"You have some very beautiful friends, don't you cunt?" Sir asked.

Ana froze, unable to even contemplate what he was implying. They couldn't; she'd never be able to live with herself.

"I said, don't you, cunt?"

"Yes Sir," she whispered, "but please-"

"Yes Sir will do," he interrupted, his voice soft. "You will answer our questions and nothing else."

She felt fingers close around her left nipple. Ana's nipples had always been sensitive, but between the darkness, helplessness, arousal, and anxiety, even the lightest pinch was almost painfully stimulating. She tried not to whimper as he slowly twisted.

"We've been impressed with how much you've been enjoying your training so far. How well this role seems to fit you. Do you think any of your friends would enjoy being sex slaves as much as you?"

"No, Sir," she said in a small voice.

"No, what?" he asked, his finger and thumb gently rotating against each other around her nipple, as if rolling a tiny ball.

"None of my friends would enjoy being sex slaves," she swallowed, "as much as I do, Sir."

"So, would you rather I focus on training you to be a sex slave, or going after a few of your friends?"

"The... the first one, Sir. I'd rather be a sex slave than have you kidnap my friends."

"That's a big commitment, cunt. It may take me all winter to break and train you to be a completely obedient sex slave. If you want me to do that kind of favor for you, you need to ask me properly."

"Please, Sir," Ana whispered, her voice shaking. "Stay here and train me to be an obedient sex slave."

"What do I get out of the deal?" he asked.

"I'll. I'll suck you. And let you fuck me."

He laughed. "Of course you will — and anyone else I decide. That's what a sex slave does. I'll ask you again, what do I get for all that work training your holes, cunt."

"I'll... stay with you," she whispered.

"Stay with me?"

"As your...." She trailed off, distantly aware of her lips moving silently.

"Sorry," I didn't hear that," he said, quietly. He was standing so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I'll stay with you. As your sex slave. To keep, Sir."

"A sex slave doesn't choose where she stays, cunt."

"What, Sir?"

"I may lend you to my friends. I may sell you. I may even give you away if I get tired of you."

"Yes, Sir," she said.

"So what are you offering me then, cunt?"

"I... I won't try to escape. I'll be completely devoted to serving you, Sir."

I will consider it," Sir responded. He dropped her nipple, and idly traced his hand along the curves of her body. "It's a tempting offer, but your friends and family might not understand our relationship. If an unexpected visitor shows up or a friend starts asking too many questions, what do you think I'll have to do?"

"You can tell them I'm your willing slave, Sir. I can tell them for you."

"And what if I don't think they'll believe me? What do you think I'll have to do then?"

"Then you.. I think you'll hurt them, Sir." Ana said softly.

"It might hurt. According to you, they're not naturally submissive like you. So I'm going to need your help to keep your friends and family out of this, okay?"

"Yes Sir," she said.

"I appreciate your help so far. It was very responsible of you to leave that little notebook with your passwords in your desk drawer for us."

She sagged, feeling a sensation that combined relief and despair. They had everything. There was nothing she could hide.

"Thank you, Sir," she breathed.

"You're welcome, cunt. Now I have only one or two more questions for now. Do you have any commitments coming up in the next two weeks? Visitors? Weekly meetings? Places to be?"

"I... I post updates every few days on social media. They'll miss that if I stop, and I..." her voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

"I should send my half-sister a text this week to let her know I'm alright."

She felt her eyes tear up behind the blindfold. Ana and her half sister weren't close, but they were amicable, and they did look out for each other. That call was something he might not have figured out on his own, something that might have shown her half-sister that something was wrong. Perhaps she'd just given up her last hope. She felt calm, empty.

"Anything else?"

"I don't think so, sir."

His voice turned hard.

"No one who might have access to this house?"

"I told you everything," she sniffled.

"Be silent and listen," he said, his voice quiet and dangerous. "You are lucky we met Karl on our own already, and he thinks we're your roommates."

"Karl," she said slowly. She recognized the name, recognized he was near, but somehow couldn't form an image.

"The handyman. Yes. I forgot about Karl, Sir."

"You are lucky Master convinced me that you're a stupid, absent-minded little cunt. Because if I thought for a moment that you were trying to trick me, I would kidnap every last one of your slutty little friends, force you to fuck their little holes, and then sell them to an overseas brothel. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes Sir," Ana whispered, crying quietly, almost indifferently.

She kissed his fingers as they gently stroked across her face, silently begging for mercy. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, almost sympathetic. What he said was not.

"Very well. I accept your request to be trained as a sex slave, with your complete devotion as payment for my time. You will be loyal, submissive, and do your best to help me train you, and keep your friends and family from interfering. In return, I'll do my best to keep them out of this, so long as they don't pose a danger for me or Master."

"Thank You Sir," she said.

"I'll give you your first opportunity to help me now, and then you can rest. You're crying now, but your pussy is practically dripping. What is it about this situation that excites you?"