A Gradual Descent Pt. 03: Gift

Thanks to everyone who's read Part One and Two of this series. It's a story told in five movements - Prize, Possession, Gift, Object and Trash - and whilst each movement works perfectly well as a standalone story, it's best read as a sequential series. Please please rate and comment if you like it - it means a lot! Thx

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PART THREE: GIFT

It's not that I've not eaten - I have - but the smells coming from upstairs are taking me to a whole new level of hungry: salty bacon, rich earthy mushrooms and, best of all, the strong, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

When the lights come on, I speed through my routine then wait expectantly on the end of the bed. But when the door is unlocked, the sound of his footsteps on the stairs is different. I've become so used to the soft patter of his bare feet as he descends the staircase naked, but now his steps are loud and heavy, reminding me of the first night he led me down here, when my hands were bound, my head was hooded, and this extraordinary ordeal was just beginning.

It feels so long ago now.

Sure enough, when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, turning into the room to face me, I see he's fully clothed in black jeans, dark leather boots and a cream long-sleeved tee.

We've spent so much time together naked, seeing him dressed again makes me feel strangely exposed. I've become so accustomed to this strange little world we've created that his clothes seem out of place, like he's brought a piece of the outside world in here, a world I scarcely feel part of anymore.

But I can't dwell on that too long because my attention is fixed on the bountiful breakfast tray he's carrying in front of him.

"Morning" he says brightly, setting it down on the dressing table, "thought you might be hungry."

"Hell yes, that looks amazing," I say, springing up from the bed to take a closer look. There's a delicious looking plate of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, mushrooms and toast as well as warm pastries and a tall cafetière of steaming black coffee.

Today sure feels different.

I take the plate and sit on the chair with my legs crossed. It tastes remarkably good: the bacon is salty, the eggs fluffy and the mushrooms have been fried in garlic and parsley. To give him credit, this guy can cook.

"Very good" I say between mouthfuls.

He's leaning against the wall, watching me. When I compliment his cooking, he nods appreciably.

"You not having any?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "I ate earlier".

I take a sip of the hot coffee, it's strong and bitter and I can immediately feel the buzz of the caffeine behind my eyes. I take another slug.

"So, what time is it?" I ask.

"Just after ten"

"And remind me" I add coyly, "what day is it?" He looks at me and smiles. "I'm being serious, it's hard to keep track in here."

"It's Wednesday."

Wednesday. Wow.

It was late Saturday night when I was bundled into the back of his van and brought to this place. Three days and four nights I've been kept in this room, being slowly dismantled. In a way I feel like I've been here forever. But then again, I can't believe it's gone that fast. Time plays tricks on you in here.

He takes a set of keys from his pocket and walks across to the dark mahogany chest of drawers. Despite my many attempts to open them, the three drawers have remained firmly locked which has frustrated the hell out of me. I don't even know what I was hoping to find there - a flashlight, a nice fluffy dressing gown, a bar of chocolate perhaps - but when you're knocking around for hours on end, in the dark, with nothing else to do, something like that can become an obsession. So, I was intrigued to see him insert the key into the bottom drawer and unlock it.

"When you've finished breakfast" he says, pulling out a large white bath towel and tossing it onto the bed. "you'll come upstairs and take a shower."

"O my god, YES!" I cry. My heart leaps with joy at the prospect of finally being able to take a hot shower. To date, I've had to tolerate the small basin under the stairs for quick washes so my body feels dirty and my hair is a fucking disgrace.

Then he unlocks the top drawer and pulls it open, "Come back here after" he continues, motioning to the open drawer, "and choose something to wear."

Something to wear?

Curious, I put my plate down to take a closer look. Peering inside the drawer, I see a collection of the most beautifully intricate lingerie: there are three or four sets in different colours -- black, deep purple and emerald-green - all neatly arranged on one side. While on the other is an eye-watering assortment of leather restraints, belts, cuffs, bottles of lube and several multi-coloured sex toys of varying shapes and sizes.

Suddenly the penny drops: I'm in transition.

First, I was his prize.

Then his possession.

Now I am a gift. To be given.

That's why everything feels different: he's feeding me, bathing me and dressing me... preparing me for someone new.

I suddenly feel a pit in my stomach.

Introducing new men was always part of the plan: it was my fucking idea in the first place. But I've got so used to it being just us. The thought of someone else, disturbing our routine, is suddenly unsettling.

My heart starts to flutter and my head goes dizzy. I try to ground myself, picking up one of the bras and brushing my fingers against the delicate embroidered lace.

"Should be your size too" he says plainly, "he bought it specially."

So, it is true.

I hesitate, not knowing quite what to say. Then he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes. "You'll be fine" he says quietly, "it's all exactly as we planned."

But the courage I had a few nights earlier seems to have left me. I'm suddenly fearful of the unknown and I get an overwhelming urge to throw my arms around him and cling to him.

"Will you stay?" I ask hopefully. But I already know the answer.

"I'll be right upstairs," he states casually.

There's a silence as I feel his eyes studying me. I wish he'd come closer, hold me for a moment. Tell me I have nothing to be afraid of. But he just stands there, watching me.

"Do you know him?" I ask quickly. My heart is beginning to race, the ground slipping from beneath me.

He looks at me, puzzled. "Why all the questions suddenly? I thought you didn't want to know."

Of course, he's right. I've had no contact with the other men, nor did I wish to. I don't know who they are or what they look like. That's what we agreed. But now, looking down into the drawer at the leather restraints and the, quite frankly, intimidating set of toys, I just want reassurance that I'm going to be safe.

"I just want to know" I repeat, "if you've met him before. Can you vouch for him?"

He pauses to consider his response. Then he walks over to me, takes hold of my hands and leans into my face, kissing me tenderly on the forehead, "Why would I present a gift, as beautiful as you, to someone I don't know?"

My chest immediately relaxes.

I know it's ridiculous because we've only known each other for a few days but the intensity of our connection means, somehow, I trust him.

"Now finish your breakfast" he adds, "then we'll head upstairs."

For thirty magical minutes, I indulge in the most wonderful shower I've ever had. I wash my hair, scrub my body, shave, rinse, then cleanse my skin in the hot running water, luxuriating in the soothing heat.

With space to breathe and time to think, I'm better able to reconcile what's happening. These transitions, from one stage to the next, were always part of the plan. The plan I conceived myself. But it's this transition specifically, from possession to gift, that my status really starts to diminish.

As a gift, I am given.

As an object, I am used.

As trash, I am discarded.

And that scares me.

For so long, it's only been him and me. For months we were online together, conspiring to plan this devilish experience. And for days, we've actually been living it. But now, there'll be other men involved. Strangers. Men who know nothing about me beyond what he's chosen to tell them. I'm nervous yet also excited. This is the moment our little world stops belonging solely to us. There'll be other men, other hands, other bodies, other desires to serve. Other versions of me too. And I know, once that door opens, there's no closing it again.

When I return to my room, I'm immediately reminded of my fate.

Two black metal restraining bars have been fitted to the mattress, one at the head, one at the foot. The bars stretch the full width of the bed and along each bar are eight steel rings, spaced evenly apart.

I expect to feel anxious, but in truth, I feel strangely serene.

Leaving my cell, taking a shower, seeing daylight for the first time since forever... it's made me feel different: not just renewed and purified, but normal. And now, sitting cross-legged on the thick carpet, drying my hair and moisturizing I feel like I'm back home, sitting on my bedroom floor in front of the long mirror, listening to my music and getting ready to go out. And I love it.

I select two lingerie sets from the wardrobe and lay them on the floor beside me. One is an elegant deep-purple set with heavy floral embroidery and satin strapping. The other is a decadent black set criss-crossed with silk straps, gold fastenings and tiny satin bows.

I choose the latter, partly because - well, why the hell not - but mostly because I've never worn anything so beautifully complex and intricate, and I want to know how it feels on my body.

It doesn't disappoint.

The plunge bra fits me perfectly, holding my breasts snugly together. The knickers fasten precariously at the hip with silk ribbons while my stockings are held up by six straps on each leg, attached to a scalloped lace suspender belt. There's even a sequin encrusted neckpiece that I spritz with two sprays of my perfume to finish the look.

Then, as I'm sitting at the dressing table, a thought crosses my mind: I don't know this man and he doesn't know me either. I am as much a stranger to him as he is to me. Which means I can be whoever I want to be.

It's like a switch is suddenly flicked and I see everything differently. The lingerie, the make-up, even the bondage paraphernalia. It's like a big dressing up box: the chance to be someone else entirely.

Inspired, I rifle through the make-up again, reviewing what's there. Honestly, the resources are limited; there's a crimson lipstick, dark mascara, some highlighter and a simple eye shadow palette - but fuck it, I'm feeling creative.

As a young girl, I used to steal my sister's make-up, mixing up all the colours as I pretended to be famous pop stars. It drove her crazy. But, even at that young age, you learn how it can be a disguise; a way to transform into a different person. Now, sitting in front of the mirror, I watch as my own transformation takes place. With every layer, I see my true self recede and someone new take her place. She has bright crimson lips and dark smoky eyes exaggerated with dramatic wings that wrap around her temples. Her blonde hair is scraped back into a tight ponytail which shows off her sharp cheekbones and she has a cute constellation of dots underneath each of her eyes.

Then it's time to add the accessories: I fasten the leather cuffs first around my ankles, then my wrists. Then I tie a red silk sash to each of the cuffs for added embellishment.

I stand up and parade around the room. I feel fucking magnificent: my legs are smooth, my skin feels nourished, my hair is silky and soft. And having not worn a thread of anything for days, it's wonderful to feel the different materials against my skin; the elegant lace knickers, the snugness of the bra, the soft satin lining inside the cuffs and the silk ribbons that brush against my skin.

"Wow" he says when he comes back to check on me, "you look incredible."

"Thank you" I reply coyly.

"He's going to be here any minute. You feeling ok?"

"Sure."

"You need anything before we..." his sentence trails off but he's clearly motioning towards the metal bars attached to the bed.

I realise he wants to cuff me to the bed now, before the other man arrives, which, when I think about it, makes total sense. This guy is driving all the way out here to fuck a young girl playing out an abduction fantasy. It's probably not unreasonable to expect the captive girl to be, well, captive.

I hesitate for a moment. Then I climb on to the bed and lean back against the pillows. I hold my arms out wide and he fastens each of my wrists, clipping the leather cuffs into the furthest points on the spreader bar. Then he walks around to the foot of the bed and does the same with my ankles, only now he clips me into the two most central rings, allowing me to keep my legs together and maintain some level of dignity.

For now, at least.

"He'll be here soon so I'm going to wait upstairs."

"I'm not going anywhere" I quip nervously.

"You'll be fine" he tells me again as he ascends the staircase.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Getting ready has been a welcome distraction but there's no escaping now. I tug my arms and there's no slack whatsoever, I'm fully locked in. This is it. I feel so nervous, my heart is pounding. And it's so goddam warm. I don't know if it's the heat or the nerves, but I can feel myself perspiring. Beads of sweat are collecting under my arms and in the small of my back but with my wrists bound, I can't wipe them away.

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

In. Out.

Then - in the silence - voices.

Muffled noises blend with the creaking floorboards above my head. He's here. This is real. O fuck. What am I fucking doing?

The door opens at the top of the stairs. Then closes. There's a pause. My chest is so tight with nerves, I can barely breathe. Then I hear footsteps descending towards me.

"Hello" comes a deep, booming voice several decibels louder than it need be. "Well," he adds extravagantly as he reaches the bottom of the staircase and turns towards me, "aren't you a picture."

He's older, much older than me, mid-forties perhaps, with short dark hair, flecked with grey. He's immaculately dressed in a stiff, high-collared shirt, brown suede waistcoat, pin-striped trousers and black leather loafers. His face is lined and lightly tanned, his eyes sparkle with mischief.

"I would introduce myself" he states formally, "but no names, right?"

"No names," I confirm. "But hello back"

Fuck, this is so fucking weird.

He walks slowly around the bed, looking up and down at my body. Honestly, in this moment, I feel so stupid. Stupid for putting myself in this position. Stupid for actually wanting this. I try to turn away from him but my arms are pinned apart and I can't move, all I can do is wriggle my hips uncomfortably and adjust the position of my legs.

"Are you comfortable?" he checks.

"Uh-huh"

"Can I get you anything? Some water or..."

"I'm fine. Thankyou."

"Good." The small talk is excruciating but it fills the silence.

He walks across to the mahogany chest of drawers and takes a peek inside. It's like he knows exactly what's in there, but he still wants to see for himself. Then he circles back to the foot of the bed.

"Before we begin" he starts, "I want you to know you're safe." He says this with conviction, looking me straight in the eye. I can't put a finger on why I believe him, but I do and the tightness in my chest eases a notch. "Also, I need to know something from you in return, that you consent to this, that you're willing. Can you tell me that?"

Again, despite the weird formality, I get some comfort from this exchange, and I nod my head in approval.

"Good" he booms enthusiastically. "Now, let me introduce myself properly. I'm a friend" he pauses, "of his" he adds, gesturing up at the ceiling. "We've known each other a long time. He's told me about you. About this," he says wafting his arm around the room, "so I'm very pleased to finally meet you." I'm still wracked with nerves, but I nod my head in reply and let him go on.

He continues to pace slowly around the edge of the bed. I'm still shocked by the absurdity of it all... if I could pinch myself I would, but obviously I can't...

"Tell me," he says, breaking my spell, "have you done anything like this before?"

"No."

"But you know about it? You've thought about it?"

"Yes" I reply.

"So, you're curious?"

"Yes." And clearly nervous given my inability to converse in full sentences.

He pauses for a moment. I hold my breath in anticipation of what he'll ask next.

"I'm interested" he continues, "what you think this is?" he asks motioning towards my bound wrists and ankles.

I clear my throat. "Submission"

"Yes" he says cautiously, "go on."

"Surrender"

"For you, yes. But what about me?"

"Power"

"Power" he repeats loudly. There's something school-masterly about how he talks, like he's about to lecture me on wartime politics. "Yes, let's talk about power, because power can be very misunderstood and I want to explain why."

He comes to the edge of the bed and sits down, his eyes wandering up the length of my bare legs.

"For a lot of people" he continues, his voice softer now but no less baritone, "power is about gain. It's about taking what you want" he says, clenching his fist dramatically. "But for me, it's the opposite." Now he opens his fist and stretches out his palm, hovering over my ankle, before turning it over and brushing the back of his hand against my calf. "For me, power is not about taking, but giving." I'm so alert and attentive that I get tingles up the backs of my legs. "And one thing I love to give, more than anything" he says, "is pleasure".

My body surprises me again. I've only just met this man. I shouldn't be feeling anything but fear but instead a tremor of excitement pulses through me.

"Do you like pleasure?"

"Yes" I say meekly.

He moves his hand up my leg, caressing my knee and brushing the outside of my thigh with his fingertips. My breath is quickening, and my legs twitch involuntarily, pulling at the restraints around my ankles.

"Then we need to agree a little contract" he says softly. "My promise to you is I'll give you more pleasure than you can ever imagine. But in return, you must promise to do exactly as I say. Will you do that?"

His offer surprises me. He has no reason to seek my permission because I'm already at his mercy. And yet he speaks as though none of this can happen without it.

Intrigued, I whisper my approval.

"Good girl."

He shuffles further up the bed so he's closer to me and I can smell his scent: it's a strong, masculine smell of burnt wood and cedar. His hand brushes over my hips and across my belly before gliding up and over the exposed part of my breasts, sending shudders of electricity across the surface of my skin. I'm so aroused now that a crimson flush has erupted across my chest, and I can feel my swollen nipples pressing against the delicate lace of my bra.

He slides his hand behind me, pressing his fingers into the small of my back that's now dripping with perspiration. I can't help flinching, yanking my outstretched arms against the restraints.

I can barely breathe.

I close my eyes, keeping my thighs clamped together as he circles back across my belly, tracing a line along the scalloped fringe of my panties. "As you can see" he whispers, "I like my gifts wrapped." And with that, he presses his fingers against the damp surface of my knickers. My hips tense instinctively. Heat rushes through my body and a trickle of warm liquid escapes down my inside thigh.

"Right then" he says with a smile, "let's begin." He takes a step back from the bed, feasting his eyes once more on my trembling body.

He unfastens his waistcoat and folds it neatly over the back of the chair. Then he unbuttons his shirt, peeling it off his broad shoulders. For an older guy, he looks surprisingly fit with solid pecs and strong muscular arms covered in ink. There's a meticulousness to how he folds his trousers that makes me think he's ex-military. Maybe they're all ex-military, I wonder...

He walks over to the chest, opens the top drawer and picks out a selection of toys, laying them out on the bed beside me, like a surgeon laying out his instruments. There's a purple vibrator, several life-like dildos, a set of butt plugs, bottles of lube, a sleek looking wand with a large bulbous end and various other accessories.

It's an intimidating assortment of objects and the thought of them all being used on me is suddenly overwhelming...

"Don't be alarmed" he says calmly, his tight black briefs evidently bulging, "these aren't instruments of pain, they're instruments of pleasure, provided you let me use them in the right way. Will you do that for me?"

I've never done anything like this, let alone with someone I've never met before, and honestly, I am fucking terrified.

But then, I remember something important...

What I'm feeling and what he's seeing are two very different things, two different people even. Earlier, when I painted myself a new face, I created a whole new persona: a punky mask with dark smoky eyes, bright crimson lips and sharp metallic cheekbones. Like switching skins in a video game, I transformed myself. So, I can be her: if that's the girl he's looking at, that's the girl I'll be.

I take a deep breath, trying to push all the anxiety out of my system and focus instead on the hot glow that's radiating through my body.

"Will you do that?" he repeats.

"Yes" I reply confidently.

"Good."

He moves to the foot of the bed, "Now, I'm just going to adjust these fixings" he states casually. Inside I'm recoiling with terror, but I nod my head in approval. He unclips each of the ankle restraints in turn and eases my legs apart before clipping me back into place on the next set of rings. So, whilst my legs are not completely spread - like my arms are - I can no longer pinch my knees together. I've never felt so exposed and vulnerable.

"Comfortable?"

"Uh-huh"

He returns to the assortment of toys laid out beside me and selects the plum purple wand. It's a sleek, modern design with a curved handle and a ribbed bulbous end. He rubs it down with a generous squirt of lube then he flicks a switch, and it starts to hum ominously.

Just the anticipation of its touch makes me flinch and I rattle the chains holding me in place. He lowers it between my legs and presses the round vibrating head against the wet gauze of my knickers.

I gasp at its first contact and the low reverberating hum that makes me twitch and tremble. As he holds it against me, I catch the gleam in his eye and see the unmistakeable delight of someone who knows he's in complete control -- and intends to savour every minute of it.

With my pussy beginning to melt, he slides the wand up over my stomach and across my aching breasts, sending tingles through my hard, protruding nipples. I sigh with relief as the pleasure centre shifts and a fresh glow spreads across my chest.

Then he descends it once more, across my waist, over my hips and down the tops of my legs before circling up the insides of my thighs. Now I yelp as the vibrating tip presses into my ass then glides up the length of my slit, up and over my clitoris sending a jolt of delight through my whole abdomen.

"Ah fuuuck" I gasp. I bite my lip and throw my head back as he shifts the magic wand back and forth between my breasts and my pussy until my whole body is trembling with need and desperate to be touched.

Thankfully he responds.

Putting the toy to one side, he climbs up onto the bed and kneels between my open legs. He leans forward, his palms resting against my knees then starts to walk his hands slowly up my legs, digging his fingers into my flesh. He lingers at the top of my thighs, where the lace fringe of my stockings meets my bare skin, then he brushes his thumbs against the wetness of my knickers, as he continues to crawl steadily on top of me, his frame always hovering just above my body until his face is parallel with mine.

When he looks into my eyes, he must see how depraved I am: it's shameful to feel like this with someone I've never met, strung out like a piece of meat and craving to be touched. But I can't help it. I can't stop the wanting.

He leans into my neck, brushing me with his soft lips. I stay perfectly still, barely flinching, but inside, my heart is racing. I exhale deeply then crane my neck upwards, inviting him closer...

Only for him to begin his descent.

He kisses my shoulders, then glides his lips across my chest. Reaching behind me, he unclips my bra, spilling my breasts into his eager mouth. He kisses each in turn, circling my nipples with his tongue. Then he closes his lips around the plump, rosy buds, pressing into the soft flesh and sending tingles down my arms and legs.

He continues onwards, descending once more across my stomach. I can't help lifting my hips to meet him, willing him to settle between my legs where another fine dew is beading along the edge of my slit.

The wait is excruciating.

If my hands were free, I'd hold his head and push him onto me but all I can do is pull and strain against the leash.

Down he goes, caressing my skin with his gentle lips, until I feel his hot breath against my inside thighs.

Finally, he relents: my panties are tied at the side, so it only takes one small tug for him to loosen the bow and the modest triangle covering my slit falls away. Like wet fur, he breathes in the pungent scent of my sex, before plunging his tongue into my depths.

Ah fuck.

I moan softly as his tongue roams the soft folds of my pussy. I'm already so wet and open that he fills his mouth easily, hungrily licking and slurping on my juices. Then he locks his jaw over my clitoris and starts to beat against it with his tongue.

"Ah fuck" I cry out, throwing my head back and looking up to the ceiling. I should be thinking about him. About the man upstairs who, until now, has been my whole world. But instead, all I can think about is how fucking good this feels.

Sweat is pooling in the small of my back as my temperature rises. His mouth is clamped over my hood, his tongue furiously lapping against me. My legs pull at their restraints as I roll my hips, forcing myself into his face.

I'm so fucking aroused I could cum already.

But then he eases off, inserting his fingers into me instead. First, he circles my labia - smooth, soft and wet - then he pushes two fingers deeper inside, rubbing his thumb against my clit at the same time.

God, it feels so fucking good to abandon myself like this and glorify in the waves of pleasure rolling up and down up my spine.

Then he begins to roam.

His fingers creep towards my ass and I'm powerless to stop him. I yelp and flinch, pulling and straining but I can't escape his fingers pressing against the surface of my ass.

"Shhh" he says quietly, "remember, what you promised. Submit to me and you will feel pleasure on a magnitude you've never felt. But you must do as I say, you understand?"

I nod back at him, but he pushes me for an answer, "Say you understand."

"I understand"

"Say yes, I'll do as you wish".

"Yes, I'll do as you wish".

He dips his fingers into my pussy then he rubs them against my hole, lubricating it with my juices. "This will be a lot easier if you just relax. Will you relax for me?"

Again, my mind and body are in conflict. I know I need to do as he says but my hips keep bucking away from him.

"Yes" I say breathlessly.

There are three pink butt plugs on the bed beside me, conical in shape with bejewelled ends that sparkle in the light. He takes the middle one and douses it with a generous squirt of lube.

I steady myself, accepting this is the fate I've chosen, then I wince as I feel the silicon tip pressing into my ass. I can only breathe with short shallow gasps as I feel it pushing into me, opening me wider until finally it pops snugly into place.

"There" he says proudly, "Comfortable?

"Uh-huh" I reply meekly.

"Now, you must keep this in place until I say. Do you understand?"

"Yes"

Despite the initial pain, it's actually a relief to have something I can clench against because he quickly picks up the wand again and resumes, now pushing the vibrating head directly against the crimson flesh of my pussy.

The feeling is ecstatic.

With the butt plug clamped in my ass, the vibrations suddenly feel stronger and more intense and I feel the weight of an inevitable orgasm beginning to build inside me.

"Not yet" he says, anticipating my state of arousal "not until I say".

"I can't hold on much longer" I whimper.

"Yes, you can" he says, "you must."

He climbs on top of me, straddling me across my waist and looks into my desperate eyes. "Wait" he commands, "not yet". I clench my jaw and moan as the wand continues to thrum mercilessly against my clit.

Ahhhh fuck, it's torment.

I want to wrap my legs around him and press him into me, but I can't. All I can do is pull against these wretched chains and push my hips towards him.

"Wait" he repeats.

O god, I can't hold on any longer.

"Wait..."

I can feel the strong tide building inside me and it won't stop. He leans his face into mine, we're just inches away, his mouth is half open as he holds me at the edge for as long as possible. "Wait..." he repeats softly, and I can't breathe because I'm clenching my ass and tensing my pussy so tightly.

"Now..." he says. And BANG!

I cry out as a shallow wave bursts beneath the surface, igniting my pussy like a hot flare, before rippling outwards across my skin. My whole body is flooding with radiant energy, curling my toes and bringing sweet tears to my eyes.

He pulls away, removing the wand from my quivering pussy, and I sink back into the crumpled pillow, my breath short, my eyes pinched closed while the soft aftershocks pulse heavily between my legs.

For a few blissful seconds, I simply drift.

Everything feels distant.

I came here expecting fear and shame and regret. Instead, I'm floating somewhere between exhaustion and euphoria, carried by a warmth that seems to reach far beyond my skin. Whatever I thought this experience was going to be, it wasn't this.

When I open my eyes, he's knelt once more between my legs, holding the most prodigious dildo I've ever seen: big, black, girthy and punctuated with thick life-like veins.

My body reacts instinctively: I try to turn away and shut my legs against such a monstrous beast, but neither is possible. All I can do is pull weakly against the stubborn restraints that hold me in place.

He douses it with lube, rubbing his hand up and down its colossal length and a fresh wave of panic overcomes me.

Sensing my trepidation, he tries to reassure me. "What do I love to give, more than anything?" he offers quietly.

"Pleasure."

"And what did I promise to give you?"

"Pleasure," I breathe softly.

I'm utterly helpless. And yet he's still asking me what I want. Still waiting for me to say yes.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes"

"Tell me what you want" he implores me again.

"I want you to give me pleasure."

My head goes slightly dizzy as I feel him pressing the enlarged head against my opening. I'm still so wet and soft I feel the tip easing into me. But I'm still so sensitive too and all my nerves are immediately on edge as he nudges it further. I can feel it stretching me, pushing outwards against my walls. I can't help but look down, transfixed by the sight of this object slowly being inserted into me and my God, it feels so fucking good. Inch by steady inch, he fills me, forcing the air out of my lungs and leaving me breathless and gasping.

The spectrum of pleasure is changing. Before, it was surrounding me like a halo, prickling the surface of my skin, but now it's deeper and more concentrated, emerging from my core and radiating outwards.

The heavy mass is pushed deeper and deeper until its flesh is fully inside me, filling me up. My hips start to gently roll and I tense my muscles, contracting tightly around the hefty brute.

O yes. Fuck yes.

I bite my lip, panting loudly. He squirts me with more lube, then he starts to slide the thick shaft in and out of me. I can hear it squelching inside me while the firm base slaps against the loose lips of my vulva.

Ah fuck.

Now he climbs back on top me, straddling my chest. I can see the outline of his cock straining inside his briefs, and I push my head towards him, wanting him in my mouth.

Stretching an arm behind him, he operates the big dildo between my legs. Then, with his other hand, he yanks down his briefs, releasing his cock into my face. It's thick and smooth with a glossy mushroom-shaped helmet that I catch in my mouth, clamping my lips around him.

As I swirl my tongue against his richly scented head, I roll my hips, clenching my pussy around the thick mass that's filling me so completely. And with the butt plug still fitted snugly in my ass, every clench triggers another little pulse of pleasure deep inside me.

I've never felt so alive.

"Ow, fuck" I moan softly as I take a few gasps of air. But he thrusts his hips insistently into my face, rubbing his cock against my nose and sliding it across my cheek. His balls are damp and heavy and reek of want, and when he drags them over my lips, they spill into my open mouth.

Every time the fat dildo slides into my pussy, it rubs against my clit. I tense my stomach, trying to hold on, but jolts of wild energy keep ripping through me. My hips thrash and my arms strain against the tension as he thrusts his cock between my lips.

I'm fully restrained now: arms spread, wrists tied, ankles locked, legs forced apart, my ass is plugged, my pussy stuffed and now my mouth is being filled by his fat cock. I'm in a locked room, locked to the bed, every part of me is locked. I should feel scared. I should feel vulnerable. There's nowhere I can go. But instead, everything inside me goes quiet. This is what I came here for. There's nothing left for me to decide, nothing left for me to do but yield.

Now my whole body is rushing.

I can still feel the echoes of my first orgasm - but like the surfer in the ocean, suspended on the tide as a new swell forms on the horizon - I feel another one building beneath me.

"Ohhhh, fuck" I cry out as another wave surges through me. I clench my ass but my hips start rolling, forcing the dildo deeper inside me.

He can feel me cumming.

He holds my head, rocking his pelvis into me and I just keep beating my tongue against his fretful head.

Closer and closer, I can feel it deep in my core, an unbearable weight, ready to explode. Until suddenly it happens: my spine tenses, my hips buckle and my pussy bursts, flooding my body with hot pleasure.

I try to cry out but he's still holding the back of my head, filling my mouth with his cock. His spine is hard between my lips, and I can feel his climax is imminent. Harder and faster, he fucks my face, my frenzied tongue trying to keep pace until finally he grips the back of the headboard and howls like a wolf as his cock spews its milky load into my mouth.

I'm slick with sweat and spasming. My pussy is so unbelievably sensitive, I beg him to let me go. When he finally does, I push the tormented toy away and it slips out of my entrance into a pool of my own juices.

Breathless and panting, I throw my head back against the pillow. His dick continues to throb, pumping out white droplets of cum all over my neck and chest.

I feel utterly exhausted.

Perhaps it's the exertion of struggling against the restraints combined with the sheer thrill of the sex, but I feel completely drained. When I close my eyes, I immediately start to drift. My body feels light, and my mind begins to float, up and over the bed, out into the open, where the wind rustles high in the canopies of the trees.

I didn't expect to feel this way.

To be gifted to a stranger, I assumed my agency would reduce further, my power and sense of worth would diminish. But it's not like that. Instead, I feel satisfied and fulfilled. My mind and body float, weightless and wonderful, and I question whether I am the gift to him, or if he is the gift to me.

I drift further.

For a moment, I'm back in London, lying awake in my bedroom, staring up at the water stain on the ceiling. It's three in the morning and I have an early shift at the café. Rent is due. I need to call my Mum and tell her if I'm coming home this weekend. Fuck, I should be asleep, but my mind won't stop turning. Then the memory slips away. Because none of that exists here. It's just warmth and stillness and the fading echo of pleasure moving through my body.

"Hey," comes a voice from deep in the darkness. It's low and distant and recedes with such ease it becomes an echo.

"Hello" comes the voice again, slightly louder and more insistent.

I start to regain consciousness, and the room comes back into focus.

"Welcome back" he says with a smile. He's kneeling beside me, his leg pressing lightly against my waist.

Leaning over me, he's unclipping my wrists from the restraining bar. Then he does the same with my ankles, reaching down across my legs to unfasten the steel clips.

"Now roll over onto your front" he commands.

I thought we were finished. But instead, he seems genuinely excited to continue, as though watching me unravel has somehow replenished him.

Still in a daze, I do as he says, rolling onto my stomach. He then clips my wrists back onto the restraining bar, only this time they're close together which is so much more comfortable. But he does the opposite with my ankles. Moving behind me, he spreads my legs wide, clipping me into two of the furthest rings, forcing my legs apart.

For now, I lie face down on the bed, relieved to be able to bend and flex my arms, yet also feeling desperately exposed.

He climbs onto the bed next me and starts to rub his hands over the chunky cheeks of my ass. His hands are warm and firm and he rubs me hard, digging his fingers in and squeezing my flesh. As instructed, I still have that butt plug tucked up inside my ass and when he presses his palms against me, I feel its mass shifting inside me.

He shuffles between my legs and takes hold of my hips, urging me to push backwards.

I stretch out my arms and lever my hips upwards, pushing my ass into the air.

"Oh, that's good," he says "that's beautiful" he purrs, continuing to knead his hands into my bum. I can only imagine what he's seeing: crouching like this, my ass in the air, legs pinned apart, he'll have a full view of my whole array. And as my pussy feels so soft and pliable, my pink folds will be stretching like bubble-gum every time he pulls against my cheeks.

"Are you ready for more?" he asks me.

"Yes"

"Yes what?"

"Yes" I concede, "I'm ready for more."

Just then I hear the unmistakable sound of a vibrator.

A flicker of trepidation passes through me. I know exactly what that sound means. I know what those vibrations can do to me when I'm alone, tucked beneath the covers of my own bed. I know how quickly I can be reduced to a trembling, breathless mess. The thought of handing that power to someone else - someone who seems determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from me - is suddenly very intimidating.

Surely there are limits to how much pleasure one person can endure?

He continues to rub the cheeks of my ass, digging his fingers into my milky thighs. I can hear the buzzing of the vibrator and I'm bracing myself for contact. Suddenly it touches me, lightly at first, right on the edge of my opening and it creates an immediate halo of heat all around my pussy.

I'm tense and my hips are trembling, as much bracing against the next contact as longing for it. When it comes, this time dwelling for a beat longer, a sharp tingle ripples through my undercarriage.

"Do you want your pussy filled again?"

"Uh-huh" I moan softy.

"Tell me you want it?"

"I want it" I say, arching my back and pushing my hips backwards.

I gasp as he presses the buzzing toy flat against my slit, leaving it to thrum gently against my vulva. Then he slides it suggestively across my perineum, invoking a sharp intake of breath. "And your ass too?" he asks.

I hitch myself onto my elbows and peer underneath me.

There, beyond my dangling breasts and shuddering stomach, I see the neon pink vibrator hovering between my legs. It has two distinct parts, one long curved shaft for my pussy and another smaller, crooked one, designed to reach into my ass.

"Well? Answer me" he insists.

Another jolt rushes through me as he tips the toy against my clit and I question whether my body can withstand all the things he wants to do to it.

"Yes" I reply helplessly.

"Tell me."

"I want it."

"Come on" he insists, "I want you to want it".

"I want it" I snarl, "I fucking want it".

Teasing the tip against my lips, he nudges the vibrator against my opening. I gasp, pulling once more at my restraints, as I feel the buzzing toy being pushed slowly inside me.

Then he pinches the end of my butt plug and slowly starts to pull. "Ah fuck" I moan as the wide conical base stretches me out. I feel a squirt of slippery lube then he tugs again, slowly opening me up. "Ow fuck" I growl madly, hardly able to breathe as he eases the toy out of my ass and immediately replaces it with the pink vibrating arm. Now there's a doubly deep thrumming reverberating inside me.

At first, it feels manageable: the vibrations are deep and persistent but not overwhelming. They settle inside me like a low hum, rattling gently through my hips and stomach.

I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, convincing myself I've found a steady rhythm I can live with. But the longer he keeps the toy buried inside me, the less certain I become. The sensations don't grow stronger exactly, but they grow heavier and deeper. I can't help moaning my encouragement, rolling my pelvis and inviting him to probe me even deeper. My body feels so open now, so sensitive. Every nerve ending raw and exposed. Then he manoeuvres the toy somehow out and up until it finds a spot that makes my whole abdomen jolt and shudder.

My eyes snap open.

Oh.

That's different.

The confidence I'd been clinging to evaporates instantly. A moment ago, I thought I had miles to go. But now I'm not so sure. He holds it against me, and my hips buck repeatedly. Now he knows he's got me...

"Yoowww" I cry as I grip the sheets and bury my face into the duvet. I feel a sudden lightness but also a weight and I know another orgasm is imminent.

He can feel me trembling, my legs are shaking and my pussy is clenched around the mass inside me. He holds it in place, just moving it enough to keep in step with my increasingly rhythmical hips. Utterly helpless and completely at his mercy, I clench my vagina and channel all the energy into my core. My breathing is getting shorter and my moans are getting louder as the persistent pressure intensifies.

I pull my arms and flex my legs, like a caged animal thrashing against its chains as I feel it building up inside me. Louder and stronger, the relentless vibrations continue to magnify until I can't withstand it any longer. "FUCK" I scream as my legs shake and another earth-shattering orgasm tears through me, arching my spine and covering my thighs with warm nectar.

Despite my body going into full convulsions, he continues to hold the manic toy firmly between my legs, keeping it pinned inside me.

"Please stop" I beg as my captive body rocks wildly back and forth.

I'm so painfully sensitive I can't breathe: my ass is contracting wildly while my pussy quivers around its vibrating mass. I grunt and heave but still, he won't relent. The pleasure is so intense it feels indistinguishable from suffering now. Every nerve in my body is screaming for mercy. Yet somewhere beneath the panic is another voice, quieter but no less insistent, willing him to continue.

Finally, the strong after-shocks begin to relent. I'm still writhing on the bed, trying in vain to wriggle myself free but I'm locked and helpless, prisoner to the incessant thrum vibrating inside me. But at least the tremors are softer now.

I press my face into the soft duvet in fear of what further torture he can inflict on me... when I feel his tongue licking the back of my thigh.

O god. Not more. Please no more.

I was convinced my body had reached its limit but now I'm not sure such a thing even exists.

I've cum so hard I can feel my creamy liquid swirling around inside me, spilling down my thighs. He licks me up one leg, then the other, curling his tongue into the damp crevices beneath my cheeks. Then, he pulls my hips backwards and there's a sudden gush as he whips the vibrator from my depths and plunges his face into my steaming wet cunt.

"Ugh, fuck yes" I growl as he scoops his tongue inside me, smacking his mouth against my soft flesh.

The pleasure is merciless.

Because his genius - yes, genius - is how deftly he's able to shift the axis: with my orgasm still reverberating deep inside me, his tongue now glides lightly over my clit, summoning a vast cloud of tiny bubbles to float up from my depths and pop across the surface of my skin.

Whoa. Wow.

And as if that wasn't enough, he quickly spins around and slides his body underneath me in a 69, presenting with me with his magnificently hard cock. I've never devoured anything so quickly in my life.

I clamp my lips around his shaft and lap my tongue against his salty head, while he, in turn, opens his mouth wide and buries it inside me, hungrily eating out my pussy.

Ah fuck, it's so unbelievably good.

Onwards we go, like two wild animals, squelching and munching, slurping and panting as we grind our bodies together. The further I swallow his cock, the stronger I want him to fuck me. If only he was here too. If only I could have them both, pinning me between them, front and back, locking me in with their big, beautiful cocks. It's a longing, burning hot inside me. Tossed between them like a rag doll, held.. stripped.. pulled.. torn.. split.. filled.. fucked.. I want my hands and face, pussy and ass crowded with cock and their cum to spill all over me. I know it's deranged and debased and I hate myself for being this way, but I feel possessed, devoid of any shame or disgust, just consumed by this powerful, unstoppable lust.

"Fuck me" I cry, letting his crimson cock slip from my lips so I can beg him, "please I want you to fuck me. FUCK ME NOW!"

He slides out from underneath me and kneels behind me, breathing heavily. His torso is shining with sweat and his thick veiny cock sways menacingly over my broad hips. It's a thrilling spectacle that makes me realise there's one thing I want more than anything: I want to be wanted.

I brace my arms against the restraints and push my hips high into the air imploring him once more, "Fuck me hard" I cry.

There's no hesitation as he plunges his cock inside me.

"Ah yes!" I scream. I'm so fucking loose he buries his full length and immediately starts to pound me. Ah fuck. Harder and deeper he bangs into me, slapping noisily against my ass. My clit is already fully ignited and with every deep thrust, he crushes his balls against it and the tide of yet another orgasm swells inside me.

He takes hold of my hips and grips me hard. His cock is reaching so far inside me, I can barely breathe, all I can do is emit a series of staccato yelps as he slaps into the back of me.

Harder and faster, I tense all my muscles, straining to hold on until suddenly my pelvis locks, my legs shudder and a surge of pleasure floods through my body. I cry out in ecstasy, warmth spills from me, and then, with a grunt and a growl and one gigantic heave, he cums hard inside me, his pulsating cock ejaculating its milky load far into my depths.

I'm trembling.

My chest is flushed with moisture, beads of sweat tumble down my back as he rocks gently back and forth, his cock still twitching inside me. I drop into the soft duvet and he collapses beside me, draping an arm across my back.

I drift off again, for how long I don't know, but when I wake, my wrists and ankles have been released and I'm able to move freely. He's still lying beside me, his body folded into mine and his lips brushing against the side of my arm.

I could sit up. I could move away. Nothing is holding me here anymore.

And yet, I don't want to.

Holding him in my arms, I bask in the glow radiating through my body.

This was supposed to be a gradual descent, where I lose not just my agency but my dignity too. But it doesn't feel like that. If anything, I feel more connected to myself than I have in a very long time.

Out there, in the real world, I've spent so long overthinking, second-guessing myself, trying to be the version of myself I'm supposed to be. But here, all of that falls away.

And maybe that's the strangest part of all: I came here expecting to disappear, to escape into a different reality. But lying here now, wrapped in the fading warmth of this stranger's body, I feel more like myself than ever.