A Toy for Life

A Toy for Life

Louisa loved to be raped like a limp doll. She loved when huge, red, hairy cocks rammed her pussy (always wet), her mouth (always obedient), and especially her ass (always so tight and narrow). Ideally, all of them at once. She loved this endless torture, when she, naked and bound, would cry and plead for mercy; but no one would give her any, and humiliation went on and on without end.

It was only a fantasy, however. No living woman in sober mind would ever agree to experience the hideous things that Louisa imagined so vividly. Especially Louisa herself. She was 26, and she had everything: good job, good money, her own car and house. Not to mention a slender body with ample breasts and a firm curvy butt, of course. There was only one thing that she didn’t have: a constant relationship. Instead she had fantasies, which she would never, ever share with anyone in this world, let alone fulfilling them. And rightly so: who would agree to lose everything and become a pathetic sex slave, a worthless fucktoy? Definitely not Louisa, thank you.

Nobody knew about this, but in her house, in a locked wardrobe, Louisa kept a number of things that made her fantasies a bit more tangible. If you have an Internet connection and enough money, you can afford some of the wildest things imaginable; and while Louisa struggled that day with her Friday workload, her heart skipped a beat each time she remembered about the toy that was delivered yesterday. Never before she played with such things, and the thoughts about how awesome this evening would be made her panties wet. She had to suppress these thoughts, however, while she chatted cheerfully with her male colleagues. Every now and then they threw occasional glances to her smooth, black-nyloned legs or to her cleavage framed by white business shirt; she noticed these glances, and they only aroused her more.

She hardly remembered how she got home. Throwing all her clothes away she bolted to the bathroom. As much as she anticipated tonight’s treat, he loved her body more; standing in the hot shower she meticulously rubbed all her places with soap, especially the most private ones. After that, squeaky clean and dressed in robe, she went to the lounge, sat on the sofa and began to unpack the yesterday’s parcel impatiently.

Inside there was a chastity belt. Large as life: a shiny metal waistband with soft rubber padding, a steel plate in front, a narrow band in the back with a hole for defecating… and, most importantly, a tiny, but strong padlock with a small set of keys. She never thought she’d be into this kind of thing before, but one day she saw a picture with a girl wearing it and felt a hot wave which shook her whole body. The very thought of thin, but strong metal which would encase her dripping pussy without a chance for a slightest touch, overwhelmed her. She didn’t even know what exactly aroused her about it; but even as she sat there on the sofa with this thing in her hands, she felt that she could cum right now without even touching herself.

Taking off her robe in a blink of an eye, completely naked, she stood up and put the belt on, lifting her legs one by one, her heart racing. When she adjusted everything and shut the padlock, she even bit her lip in pleasure. Her nipples were as hard as little stones, and she caressed her breasts a little bit, while the other hand was touching the cold steel between her legs. She discovered that there was a slit for her pussy in there, which was covered by an elongated steel piece with little holes. Louisa understood that it was made for her to pee without taking the belt off, so she could wear it for days and days. Oh yes, this thing was worth every single penny she spent. It didn’t chafe her skin, it wasn’t too heavy, but you couldn’t get underneath it even with a fingernail. Now her orgasm was completely dependent from a set of tiny keys, which were lying beside the parcel innocently.

Everything was ready. But Louisa taught herself to cover her kinks even in the slightest, so she decided to get rid of the parcel box right now. She put on her robe again and went outside, heading for the garbage bin. It was dark, windows in the neighbor houses were alight, and Louisa shuddered with the thought that she was walking outside alone and naked – except for the short bathrobe and, of course, the chastity belt. What if somebody would see her and know about her secrets at once? She uttered a low moan involuntarily with this thought and almost stumbled upon the pathway.

As soon as she got rid of the “evidence”, Louisa returned home and took her robe off, throwing it away. She wouldn’t need it anymore tonight. She unlocked her secret wardrobe and stared inside thoughtfully, thinking about what she was going to wear on such glorious occasion. Finally she took out everything she needed and walked back to the lounge. Ten minutes later she was standing in front of the full-height mirror, eagerly eyeing the spectacle in it.

Her slender, smooth legs were now covered by black latex stockings, all the way up to her buttocks. A pair of black latex gloves covered her arms in the same manner. Her gorgeous breasts were encased by the latex bra (also black, of course), and her nipples, clearly visible, seemed even harder underneath it. A strong leather collar with metal rings rounded her neck. She even regretted for a second that she hasn’t got a penis, so that she could jump into the mirror and rape this slut right here and now. But even if she had a penis (which wasn’t her intent, of course), she wouldn’t be able to do anything: cold ruthless steel glimmered between this slut’s legs, and it meant serious business.

Everything was perfect… but not quite yet. After some thinking she took off the bra: her bare breasts would acutely remind her of her helplessness. After some more thinking she put black high-heel shoes on her feet and tightened every strap very carefully. Now, that’s more like it. All these preparations made Louisa so horny that she was more than willing to tear this belt away and cum right this instant. But she knew even better that haste makes waste. It was all about time in this game, and she had all the time she needed. All weekend, actually.

“Maybe, I should insert something into my ass?” she thought. But then she decided against it. Although in her fantasies she was raped anally quite often, she wasn’t ready to experiment with her tiny little butthole too much; only once in a while she dared herself to squeeze her index finger in there, and each time it was covered abundantly with her own juices. “Not this time”, she smiled and touched the steel plate between her legs: inside was her pussy that wasn’t her own anymore. Waves of fear and arousal ran all over her body, she could hardly breathe, her hands were trembling. Not allowing herself to hesitate any longer, she put the belt keys into the fridge, took a plastic cup with a piece of ice inside and went to her bedroom. Several hours of sweet and long-expected torture were ahead of her.

Leather straps were already there, scattered across the bed. She sat on the bed and slowly, savoring each movement, tied her ankles together with the first strap. Tightly, but not too much: she knew only too well how painful her bloodless feet could be. Another strap came right above her knees, tying them together. At that she stopped and stroked her legs a little: they were tied so securely, looking and feeling like not her own at all under the black shiny latex. “If only someone could see me right now”, she though with a giggle. This thought made her even hornier, and Louisa felt her juices would begin to trickle from under her belt any minute.

Still, she had to do a little bit more. She quickly took the gag harness and stuffed the big rubber ball into her mouth. It stretched her mouth and made her face look unbearably sexy, and straps all over her head made sure it won’t go easily. Next came a latex hood: no holes for eyes or mouth, only two tiny ones marking nostrils. She pulled it on carefully, smoothing all the folds out. Unable to see and speak anymore, she felt the last leather strap beside her and tightened it over her arms. It pressed them closely to her body, running under her naked breasts now. The handcuffs, her final item, were also nearby; she quickly snapped them shut on her wrists behind her back.

That was it. She was bound and cuffed by hand and feet, and couldn’t break free anymore. At least until the piece of ice in the plastic cup would melt completely: that’s where the handcuffs keys were. Louisa knew that at least an hour must pass until that moment; and, as usual, she became so aroused with that thought she couldn’t take it anymore. She began to thrash around in her restraints, grunting and hardening all her muscles, bending and twisting her beautiful body. Louisa wasn’t there anymore. Instead there was an insatiable slut, a defenseless slave burning with lust, who loved sex so much that her cruel masters decided to punish her and locked in the chastity belt.

It was a perfect game. The straps didn’t give her an inch of freedom. The gag and latex hood muffled even her most desperate moans. And no movement, however wild and forceful, couldn’t get her to her pussy at all: it could be at the bottom of the ocean just the same. When she became tired of wriggling, she tried to get under the belt from behind, stroking her buttocks with her latex-encased fingers, but that didn’t take her anywhere either. She held absolutely no power over her body. She had just become a slave of her own. At that very moment she knew that this belt would be her toy for life. She had never been so wildly aroused (or, at least, not for a very long time), and she couldn’t do a single thing to satisfy herself.

Fifteen or twenty minutes had passed, and Louisa tasted her new game in full. She was taking a rest, lying on her side and breathing heavily, her skin glistening with sweat, when she heard the front door opening. Unable to believe her own ears, she froze. Then someone shut the front door and she heard someone’s footsteps in her own lounge. She didn’t even begin to think about what to do, when her bedroom’s door was opened and somebody walked in, stopping right beside her bed.

Blinded, she began to rotate her head wildly, trying to see the intruder (with no result at all) and trying to think of some escape. She lay on the bed, naked and bound, absolutely helpless in front of this man, or woman. Who was that? A neighbor? A policeman? A robber? And what can she do?!

She had never felt such terror before, never in her life.

Several seconds had passed in silence, while she tried to swallow her drool under the gag. Then everything began to move. She felt strong hands grabbing up her body, and then she felt something cold closing around her, some sort of fabric. She realized she was being stuffed into the bag. She screamed with all her might into her gag and began to thrash around again in her restraints, and then her buttock exploded with pain, smacked ruthlessly with the same strong hand. Shocked, she fell silent, and then heard a low voice above her ear.

“Quit yelling,” it said, and she could swear she hadn’t heard this voice before. “Quit yelling, bitch! You holler, and I take you to the river and throw there in this very bag, understood?”

She couldn’t understand what was going on at all, but nodded desperately. It was happening too quick, too surreal, like in some kind of a nightmare. She felt the man was bending her in half, pressing her knees against her breasts; then he put her into the bag and zipped it shut. Trembling with terror, unable to move, Louisa heard the man’s footsteps, stopping every now and then, leaving the bedroom and coming back again. Five or ten minutes later the bag, with her inside, was jerked upwards, and then she realized that she was being carried away like a sack of grain. She could hear that they went outside and were walking down the pathway. Her head was a total mess of frenetic thoughts. Should she scream? But how? She’s gagged, by her own hand! Should she struggle in her bonds, hoping that someone walking down the street would notice the moving bag on a man’s shoulder? But what if the street is empty? She imagined the man throwing her into the river, cold water pouring into her nose, and this image paralyzed her completely.

Suddenly they stopped. She was lowered to the ground, and then there was a sound of a car door opening; a big door, probably of some van. Louisa tried to remember any vans in the neighborhood, but her terror-stricken mind couldn’t come up with one. Wait; there was probably a van not too far away from her house, when she arrived from work. Or there wasn’t?.. Her thoughts were interrupted by a vicious kick, and she squealed, almost inaudibly.

“You hear me?” the same terrible voice asked. “Don’t even think about yelling, bitch. I’ll drown you like a pup if I hear even so much as a squeak. Got it?”

After that she felt she was being lifted up and put on a hard cold floor. The door slammed shut; now she was definitely inside the van. Lying there, blindfolded and gagged, she didn’t dare even to move a finger, his horrible threats still ringing in her ears. And what could she do if she did? She was unable to uncuff herself, and therefore was unable to undo the leather straps, unzip this bag and run away. She was totally helpless. When she realized that, she began to cry; and, sobbing, she heard the sound of starting engine, and then the van moved off.

She didn’t know how long they rode. Maybe it was half an hour, maybe two hours. She tried to memorize turns at first, but got lost on fourth or fifth. She couldn’t even imagine where she could be taken to, what this man would do to her, who he was, for Christ’s sake. Crying, shaking with cold and fear, she cursed herself silently: for her silliness, for her slutty outfit, for her stupid bondage games. The only thought that she could come upon and hold on to, was that it was some kind of a practical joke and everything would turn out well after all. But something kept telling her it wasn’t.

Finally the van slowed down and then stopped. She realized that they arrived… wherever they headed to. The door opened. She was lifted up from the floor, put on the man’s hard shoulder again and carried away. She desperately tried to hear any sound, anything that could tell her where this place might be, but it was quiet: she heard only his footsteps and her own breathing. They seemed to walk up some short stair (wooden, from the sound of it; probably, a porch of a house), open a door and get into a room. More steps, more doors, then again some climbing: downstairs this time, and a bit longer. Another door, a locked one: she heard the rattle of keys. And finally, after some more steps, the bag was laid on some hard surface. Somehow Louisa realized that it was the end of her journey.

Footsteps walked away until she couldn’t hear them anymore. She listened, but total silence surrounded her. Looks like she was alone – but for how long? She stirred, and after mustering some courage mumbled something like “hello?” into her gag. Silence was the answer. Maybe she was alone, but she was helpless as well. She could only lie there and wait. A cold crept into her body from the surface she was laid upon; it felt like a concrete floor.

Her loneliness didn’t last long: soon she heard the footsteps again. They moved closer and closer, and then the man unzipped the bag and shook her out of it like a piece of meat. Invisible hands began to untie her straps one by one. The man rolled her up and down without even thinking that she might get hurt somehow, and that scared her even more.

“On your feet, bitch,” said the voice after all straps were gone.

She began to get up: on high heels, with hands cuffed behind her back it wasn’t easy. When she managed to straighten up at last, she felt that the man was uncuffing her hands. Taking one bracelet off, he grabbed her wrist, lifted her arm and fastened another bracelet on it, softer and wider. The same was done with her other arm. Now she was standing with her arms spread apart on her shoulders level, unable to lower or bring them any closer. She heard a metal rattle and realized she was being held by two chains. She was so afraid she felt she may faint at any moment.

She didn’t. He didn’t do anything either. Probably, he was looking at her, admiring the body of his prey. Then he suddenly stepped up, grabbed the rim of Louisa’s hood and pulled it off. Blinking and squinting, she was now finally able to look around.

It was quite a spacious room lit by a single yellow lightbulb under the ceiling. The air was stiff and musty, and she realized she was in a basement. The man standing in front of her looked fortyish; blue jeans, chequered shirt with a noticeable belly underneath. There was nothing much about his face, but his smile and eyes made Louisa scream and thrash in her new bonds, looking frantically for escape. She saw everything she feared in these eyes, and much more. Still smiling, he raised his hand and slapped her face. That stopped her screams instantly. Instead she began to sob, her whole body trembling. Paying no attention to that, he laid his hand on her left breast and began to squeeze it, probing and stroking it, as if evaluating the purchase. She could only weep and shudder with repulsion, looking at how he violated her beautiful breasts; breasts that she loved and cared about so much.

And then he began to slap them. Hard, just like he slapped her face before. She wailed and screamed in pain under her gag, begging him to stop but making just mmph’s and aaah’s instead. She never felt so much pain in her life. Even her parents never punished her. Why? Why? Who is this man? Why is he tormenting her?

Finally he stopped abusing her breasts and looked her in the eye. Still smiling.

“I’ve been looking at you for a long time, Louise”, he said as if he heard her desperate thoughts. “So stop playing innocent, will you? I know you’re one good and proper bondage slut. All you want and need is someone to slap you hard and fuck you harder. So don’t worry, slut. I will take care of it. Consider this a dream coming true”.

He took something from a chair standing nearby, and stupefied Louisa saw it was a whip; a real leather whip, rolled in circles. Slowly he unfurled it, walked behind Louisa, and after several horrible seconds she screamed in unimaginable pain when the whip hit her naked buttocks.

“I’ve been looking at you for a long, long time”, he said, marking each phrase with a new stroke. “The first time was when I was fixing the cable up there on the pole, right next to your nice little house. One look at the window, and what do I see? A naked chick with big tits, tied up and down like a parcel. Wait a second, I think and look closer. And the next thing I know, the chick begins to untie herself and then to wank the hell out of her, with a nice big dildo! I thought I’d cum right here and then, looking at you. But I knew I could do better than that. I didn’t fix the cable that day, no sir. I came back exactly the week after, the next Friday. Fridays are for fun, I thought, and there were no mistakes in that. The same naked chick (you, that is) tying herself again right next to the window”.

“The rest was just a matter of time, you know. I learned what’s your name, what do you do, where you work. Learned you don’t have a boyfriend. What a shame, I thought. A good old bachelor like myself could really use these ass and titties. Besides, I’m into this whole bondage thing myself, you know. So I prepared a nice little room for you here, at my place, and then finally moved you in. Do you like it?”

Louisa could hardly understood what he was saying. Her body was being flogged so thoroughly she couldn’t think about anything but excruciating, unbearable pain. She wailed, and sobbed, and writhed in her bonds, and begged him to let her go. Her gag (her own gag!) was successfully transforming all her cries to unintelligible mumbling, and her voice became hoarse from screaming.

“Pity if you don’t”, said the man and hit her breasts, emitting another yell of pain from Louisa. “Because I can’t really move you back to your place, you know. I thought about fingerprints, DNA and all that shit, but then I realized I could do a lot better. So when I dumped you into my van, I just took some gas, returned to your nice little house, poured it all over the place and lit a match. You hear me, my little bondage slut? I burned your nice little house with everything in it!”

Louisa wasn’t sobbing anymore; she wailed and wailed, like a wounded animal. Her gag and chin were wet with saliva, which bubbled and dripped on the concrete floor.

“Well, not everything. Took some of your nice little toys with me as well. Thought we could use them here later. And speaking of toys: what’s this metal thing doing between your legs?”

Louisa cried and cried, wishing to die right here and now.

“I asked you a question, bitch! You need keys to open that thing?”

Sobbing and breathing raggedly, she nodded several times.

“And where are they? At your place?”

She nodded again. He scratches his jaw and touched the padlock on her belt.

“I’ll be damned”, he said at last. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”

He squatted in front of her and began to study her belt: tried to squeeze a finger under the plate, yanked the padlock, investigated the hole for defecating. She could only stare at him, hypnotized like a rabbit before the snake.

“Well, well,” he said as he finished the examination, “that’s one good piece of work. Looks like I can’t even cut it off without cutting you. So I reckon we’ll leave it as it is, what do you think? I see you can shit and piss through this thing, and your other holes can be used, which is more important. I like your slutty little mouth, I must say, but you look too hot with the gag on, so I’ll keep it there too. Which leaves us only one option, I’m afraid. Anybody fucked you in the ass before?”

Louisa couldn’t hear him, numb with the terrible perspective. Is it really impossible to take this belt off?!

“You deaf or what?” he shouted and slapped her breast. “I said, has anybody fucked you in the ass before?”

She shook her head violently, pleading with her teary eyes.

“Well, you better enjoy it then”, he said, unbuttoning his pants. “You locked your snatch into this thing yourself, so that leaves you no other option, slut.”

Through the veil of tears she saw his cock, already erect. Huge, red, and hairy. Like in her wildest fantasies. Only now everything was dreadfully real. Now she understood how stupid she was, fantasizing about these things. There was nothing sexy in being captive and abused. It was only fear and pain, and nothing more.

He went behind her back, spat into his hand and began to rub it into her anus.

“Relax, baby”, he said and reassuringly patted her buttock covered with bruises. “It only hurts at the start. You’ll get used to it. You’ll have all the time you need. All your life, in fact. I hope you understand you can’t see the light of day anymore? Don’t worry, I’ll treat you well. I’ll be feeding you, washing you, and all I need in return is some mouth- and ass-fucking. Not too much, is it? Pity you won’t be able to cum with me, though. But then again, you have a lot of practice ahead of you; maybe, you’ll learn how to cum with your ass, huh?”

His cock began to squeeze into her virgin butthole, and only then Louisa realized the complete madness of her situation. A maniac imprisoned her, naked and helpless, in his basement, and she had no idea where this place might be. She was going to spend the rest of her life in this place. And he was going to humiliate and torture her – for the rest of her life. Whipping her beautiful body and bruising her skin, so tender and soft. Keeping her collared and chained. Fucking her mouth and her ass. And she had a chastity belt on her. She was deprived of natural sex forever: she wasn’t going to get it even if she wanted. Is it true?! Is it true that she is going to live as this man’s fucktoy for the rest of her life?! Is it true that he burned her house down and she’ll never be found?! Is it true that she will never be able to touch her pussy, never will be able to cum? Never, ever, ever again?!!

Her scream of sheer panic, desperation and pain was broken by a huge rubber ball in her mouth and dissolved into the silence of the basement, while her captor, grunting with pleasure, began to pull her sweet little ass, which didn’t belong to her anymore, on his big hungry cock.

All characters are fictitious, all similarities are coincidental.

Leave your thoughts and suggestions at gawler.hicks@gmail.com.