Sorry there's been such large gaps. I really am just busy, but I try to write when I can! Thank you for still reading! :)
***
It was quiet. Groggy, Erin opened her eyes to nothing but darkness. She groped around and realized she was lying in a bed. The last thing she could remember was …
oh. Asking Mark to whip me. To hurt me. Practically begging, even. I was disgusting. She couldn’t get the thought out of her head—that she was partially responsible, that she willingly played along with Mark’s game. She had a sour, awful taste in her mouth.
Gazing around the room now that her eyes had adjusted to the blackness, Erin saw that she was back in the room where she originally taken to, after that fateful day at the beach. She could see the door to the strange, mirrored bathroom, the dark outline of the metal chest in the corner, and of course, the looming, foreboding sheet of blank steel that was the entrance door.
Shuddering, Erin also realized she was in the same bed where she was forced to have squirting orgasms, then beaten when she couldn’t obey. While those awful memories came flooding back, that alone was not enough to make the bed uncomfortable to her bruised, sore body. She sighed and looked around for some indication of how long she’d been asleep, but there wasn’t a clock in sight, and Erin figured she had no idea what time the break had begun in the first place.
“Ugh.” Luckily, she was still rather tired. Lost in depressive thoughts, she turned onto her side and quickly fell back asleep.
***
Erin awoke again, this time (she assumed) because the ceiling lights had been turned on. Well, they were on at least, but no one else was in the room. The light seemed somehow softer than before, and Erin opened her eyes with ease. She certainly felt more rested, but her body ached like never before. It was only then that she saw the bed had not been cleaned or, seemingly, even touched, since she had been punished for breaking Jason’s cruel instructions. The sheets reeked of her own vaginal juices and cum.
Jolted by a squishy, wet feeling on her toes, Erin squirmed and felt a cramp in her stomach, and realized she had to pee. Lazily, she shifted out of bed.
“Ow!”
I don’t think my ass is getting better any time soon, she thought. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, she tried the bathroom door. “Dammit.”
Locked.
The urge to urinate was worse than she had thought.
Guess I haven’t gone since yesterday. She surveyed the room, and a stone dropped in her stomach. The portable toilet, which she had become rather familiar with, was sitting in the middle of the room, on top of where she knew a trapdoor concealed the entrance to the horrific basement dungeon, still filled with a putrid cocktail of piss, shit, and vomit. It was that the smell hit her—vile and festering, it quickly filled her senses once her brain had fully woken. Even the thought of sitting within inches of the foul stuff made Erin want to hurl, but she didn’t think Jason, Brian, and the other guys would be too happy if she just let loose on the floor.
Erin had no choice and knew it. Holding her breath, she crouched over the plastic receptacle, then glanced down and noticed its seat looked to have been recently wiped clean—good enough for her aching legs. She breathed and carefully let the high, bony part of her ass (her fleshy cheeks had been hurt the worst) touch the cold seat. Not daring to look down again, Erin relieved herself quickly, trying not to pay attention to the sound of her golden stream splashing onto the thick muck below, then returned to a squat and wiped with her hand as best she could.
Still not certain of how much time had passed and unsure what to do, Erin decided to go back to bed; found a spot that wasn’t too wet and closed her eyes. With rhythmic breathing, she dozed off.
***
SLAM. Erin jolted awake and sat up. This time the noise came from a steel door, the one opposite the entrance door. Jason had entered the room, this time alone. He was wearing jeans and a clean white T-shirt, socks, and a stern look. Erin wrapped her knees in her arms, not meaning to cower but doing so anyway—Jason scared her most of all.
“Good afternoon, Erin. I hope you enjoyed your break. Did you sleep well?”
Erin wasn’t sure if this was a test.
Is Mark’s whole “Sir” dominance game still in effect? Was that part of my “training”? Is that what I’m training for
? She decided it was not worth the risk.
“Yes … Sir.”
Jason smiled broadly. “That’s a good girl! Are you ready to continue with your training?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ve learned a lot, Erin.” Jason took a step toward her. “Time to teach you some more.”