Stephanie

Lost in her own lust, every sensation she was feeling inside the cage adding fire to her need, she barely heard her Master, her jailer, when he walked in and looked down at her through through the cage.

"Slave.  Hey, slave!"  She looked up at him through lidded eyes, the vibrators driving her toward another orgasm.  "Shouldn't you thank your Master for getting you such a nice cage?"

"Ah.  Ah."  Her mind fogged with pleasure, she almost forgot herself, almost forgot that she was only an animal now.  "Yip.  Yip yip."  She tried to wiggle her ass, the movement turning into a trembling shudder as another orgasm gripped her body.

"That's a good bitch," he said as she sagged in the cage, her head against the ground.  "How many times have you cum, slave?"

"Yip, yip, yip."

"Good slave."  He patted the cage, driving home her confinement.  "I'll be done in about an hour.  Enjoy."

She moaned, sliding her fingers back to her cunt, to her clit, the feeling of the cage under her knees, under her arms and head, up against her thighs and hips as she shifted around, keeping her in a constant state of heat, the buzzing of the vibrators in her cunt and ass relentlessly pounded her insides, turning her body and mind into a soft, liquid gel that seemed to burn with pleasure.  Another hour, she thought, another hour locked in a cage like an animal, and she felt the pleasure begin to build up again deep in the pit of her stomach.

An hour later she lay panting in the cage, the aches and pains of being confined, on her hands and knees, settling over her, her last orgasm, her fifth since she had crawled into the cage, her cage, hers.  It had taken some time, some time to build up, some time for her to tease her overheated and overused flesh into more pleasure, the vibrators almost a distraction as she shifted around in her cage, feeling her bondage, her submission, her fingers squeezing her clit, ignoring the pain of overuse that radiated from her pleasure bud, rubbing it and teasing it, wanting so badly to cum again, her mind demanding it, demanding that the caged animal cum.  When it had finally hit she had rattled her cage, had writhed and bucked against it as her mind went blank except for the perfect ecstasy of her orgasm, her slender Asian body shaking sweat from it as it thrashed inside its cage. 

The sound of clapping made her turn her head up, and she blushed in shame as she saw Steve standing before her clapping, clearly having seen her cum, having seen her grunt and thrash like a greedy pig, pushing herself to an orgasm while locked in a cage.

"That was beautiful, slave.  Just like a beast, rutting in her cage."  He kneeled down and opened the cage door.  Standing, he quickly stripped his clothes off and said, "Now come, you sexy little animal, and show me how happy you are to have your very own cage."  With that he sat down on the couch, his eyes seeming to bore holes in her back, his cock hard against his leg.

Stephanie whimpered as she crawled out of the cage, her body aching from the movement after the forced confinement, the vibrators humming inside her cunt and ass relentless, almost numbing, making her groin ache as she crawled around her cage and genuflected before the feet of her Master.  He had called her an animal, a rutting animal, her mind fogged with pleasure and need; that's what she was, a needy pet, a thing, not yet a slave.  She wasn't good enough to be a slave, wasn't good enough to serve him as a human being--she could only be his beast, his pet, until she was worthy to wear his collar.  She shuddered at her own thoughts and slid her tongue across his feet, bathing them, caressing them, showing her Master how much she loved him and his gift for her.

His whole body tingled as she worked her way up his legs, his feet and toes still warm from her attentions, and he took a deep breath as her hair brushed against his calves, her head turned to the side so that her tongue could caress the inside of his knee.  His cock throbbed as he looked down at her, marveling at the way she had fallen into her role, how quickly she had taken to it, taken to being his slave.  She was such a sexy little piece of meat, such a beautiful, desirable thing, so lithe, so lean, and she was at his feet, pleasuring him, his cock throbbing as she made her way to his thigh, her face hidden by her hair.  It wasn't enough, though, he thought.  He wanted more, he wanted everything she had to give.  He wanted to own her completely, totally, knowing that she wasn't there yet, that there where things she still wouldn't do for him.  He growled deep in his throat as he thought of it, of how he was going to make her his, completely and irrevocably, her breath on his testicles turning the growl into a low moan. 

Her mind fogged as she knelt at his feet, her tongue, her lips, her hair, her cheeks and hands and arms and breasts all servicing him, using every part of her upper body to pleasure him, to make this man, her Master, happy with her submission.  Her slender body, exhausted and spent by her own need, by her own greedy lust, was filled with a low, pleasurable buzzing warmth as she rubbed herself across his feet and his calves and his thighs.  She was his slave, meant to please him, meant to be used by him, her body warming as her lips brushed against his testes, her breasts crushed against his legs.  She was going to take him into her mouth, going to use her tongue and her lips to pull his cum from him, and the mere thought made her body grow warmer.

He groaned when her mouth, warm and soft and greedy, engulfed his cock, the feeling so good after having denied himself for so long.  As she worked on him, he knew that, had he not been so excited, she would, for all her enthusiasm, have trouble making him cum with her mouth without his active participation, and he smiled even as she rolled those sexy eyes up toward him, looking at him for approval, knowing that it didn't matter, that he could train her, teach her, teach his slutty little beast-girl how to suck him, how to take him until she gagged, his cock down her throat, and her tongue lapped at his balls.  He reached down and ran his hands through her hair, loving the way his cock looked as it slid between her sexy red lips.

Her jaw began to ache as she slid his cock across her tongue, her lips encircling it, sliding up and down across its smooth flesh.  It was a pleasant ache, an ache that showed her dedication, her willingness to do whatever was necessary to please him, an ache that warmed her and excited and and made her want to climb on top of him and mount him, his cock buried deep into her grasping, greedy cunt, pleasuring her, making her cum, again.  She felt his thighs tense under her hands, his cock pulse, and then the taste of him flooded her senses, his hands clenching against her head as he filled her mouth with his cum.

"Don't swallow," she heard, and shuddered at the command, keeping her lips tight around his cock as he finished inside her mouth, his cum bitter and harsh against her tongue.  She kept her lips pressed together as she slid him from her mouth, turning her eyes toward his, waiting for his next command.

"Crawl over to the kitchen and then let my cum drip out onto the floor.  I want to see you clean it up with your tongue, Stephanie, like a good dog.  Wait, though.  I want to get my video camera."  He quickly went to his room, grabbed his video camera, and focused on her as she knelt, waiting.  He waved his hand and watched her as she crawled past him, the camera focusing on her face, obscured by her hair, her lips tightly pressed together, then her hanging tits, and finally her ass, held high, her cunt swollen and red.  He followed her as she crawled to the kitchen, stopping beside the table, and lowered her head, his cum, mixed with her saliva, dripping from beneath her lips onto the tile.

"Look up at me, Stephanie, and lick your lips for the camera.  Good girl.  Good slut."

Her face burned with humiliation as she looked at Steve, at her Master, and licked her lips, the taste of his cum still heavy in her mouth.  It was so dirty, so nasty, what she was doing, what he wanted her to do, it was so good.

"What are you waiting for?  Clean it up, you nasty, greedy, slut."

Her breathing quickened as she leaned down, trying to keep her hair from falling into the puddle of saliva and cum, and put out her tongue, licking the floor as her Master commanded, her body trembling in lust, her still sore cunt seeming to burn with need.  She wanted him, she wanted him inside her so much, so much, the taste of him against her tongue, the feel of the cold tile and her body bent and prostrate as he video taped her degradation filling her with need.

Walking home that evening, a nine-inch gel dildo buried in her cunt, the soft, rubbery material feeling strangely intrusive with each step even as it reminded her that she was his, his slave, his pet, his to do with as he pleased.  She was to use it, he had said, after cumming over it, to practice deep-throating.  She was, he had said, to be able to take him to the root by the end of the next week.  She moaned under her breath as she thought of it, and she thought that she would do anything for him.