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Introduction:

This is a direct continuation of Sandra's Task. Read that first for this to make more sense. Not a lot of sex in this , but it sets the stage for future stories in this series
Sandra stares at the wall unable to move, unable to think. Her mind is adrift, lost to some world between pleasure and pain, between consciousness and unconsciousness. Her body still spasms from the twenty-eight orgasms and countless electrical shocks forced upon her over the last three hours. Her trembling legs, still suspended above her by their torturous strings, send little tugs to the clamps that secure them tightly to her nipples. What’s left of Sandra’s mind is trying to collect the will to move, to clean herself up and get her toys put away before her family wakes up in a few hours. A few hours...the concept bounces around in her brain, but it’s meaning is lost. All meaning is lost. To Sandra a second is now the same as a year.

A sound echoes through her brain. Her conscious mind knows it’s her bedroom door, but the connection between awareness and action is nowhere to be found. Her right foot falls to the bed, followed immediately by the left. Her breasts spring from their stretched torture and, with a slight jiggle, settle to their natural position. Somewhere deep in her mind Sandra knows this is happening, that someone is standing over her naked, helpless body, yet she can do nothing but stare at the wall. Something comes into view, moving toward her, and the wall is replaced with darkness, nothingness. Sandra feels arms under her petite frame, lifting then lowering. She feels cocooned in a rough fabric. The canvas shell lifts, taking her with it, and is being carried somewhere. The building fear brings her mind back to the surface, but it’s too late. She’s now trapped in some sort of large gym bag being taken to some unknown place. She tries to struggle, to rip the tape from her mouth and scream for help, but there isn’t enough room in the bag to move. Fear turns to panic and Sandra begins to hyperventilate. In her already exhausted state she soon passes out…

Sandra awakes in a world of darkness. She reaches up to feel a heavy leather hood leaving only her mouth and nose exposed while small hole in the back lets her hair hang out of the hood like a pony tail and large bulges cover her eyes and ears. The hood is held in place by a smooth steel collar with a padlock preventing it’s removal. Continuing her search she finds that The Master is gone and a very different device was in it’s place. While The Master was a cobbled together contraption of scavenged parts, this new device was sleek. It’s outer shell seemed to be smooth, polished steel hinged at the crotch with small holes over her sex and anus. It was also much thinner and more form fitting than her creation, it’s waist band reached higher and was secured with a padlock on either side. Her simple leather cuffs were now smooth steel rings also secured with padlocks, with similar rings at her ankles. Feeling up and down for any other changes she finds that the rest of her body was still completely naked. She feels the bed she woke on and notices it’s firmer and larger that the one she was taken from, king size by her best guess. She reaches a toe off of the edge to find a cold hard floor in place of the soft shag carpeting of her room. She slides her other foot to the ground and takes a step, nearly falling as her still exhausted body struggles to support itself.

“Get back on the bed.” The voice booms through her head as if coming from all directions. It sounded synthetic, like the voice scramblers used by bad guys in movies. Sandra turns her head to try to determine it’s direction of origin when a sharp shock to her neck causes her to yelp in pain. “I said back on the bed, slave. Do I need to tell you again?” Sandra’s breath quickens as she turns around frantically, waving her arms in front of her until she feels the edge of the bed. “Good girl,” the anonymous voice utters as she climbs back onto the bed.

“Who are you? Where am – AAHHHH!!!” Another shock shoots through her neck, stronger than the last.

“A slave speaks only when given permission, or to answer a direct question.” Sandra tips her head back and forth, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from. “That’s not going to help. I’m speaking to you through headphones in your hood. They’re noise canceling, you only see and hear what I decide.” Sandra’s world of darkness is suddenly filled with blinding light. As her eyes adjust she discovers that the light is actually a screen in front of each eye showing a live top down view of her sitting on the bed. The image is carefully cropped to not show anything beyond the edge of the bed, leaving her surroundings a mystery. Sandra is both impressed and terrified by the technical capabilities of her captor. She begins to wonder if he’s even in the same building when the voice returns, “Would you like some water?”

“Yes.” A moment later another painful shock hits her, this time to her wrists.

“A slave will show respect when speaking to her master. First infractions will receive gentle corrections like you have seen, but if you continue to disappoint me I assure you the punishments can be much more severe. I will ask again, does my slave need a drink?”

Sandra pauses before answering. She knows what he wants her to say, but does not want to give this man the satisfaction of her obedience. Still she doesn’t want to find out what will happen if she refuses. She grits her teeth and answers, “Yes Sir.” Suddenly the view being projected in her eyes zooms out slightly, revealing the area surrounding the bed and Sandra studies it closely, looking for some clue as to her location. She sees polished concrete floors, a toilet about 6 feet to the left of the bed with a sink next to it and a water fountain the same distance to the right of the bed. She gets off the bed on the side of the water fountain and slowly makes her way to it, finding it difficult to maintain her bearing while watching herself from above. After just a moment she reaches the fountain and as she sips it’s cool water the voice provides further instruction.

“You will receive this view for twenty minutes every twelve hours. It is only during this time that you may leave the bed. Do not wander beyond the view of the camera. Do not leave the bed unless you see this. There will not be a gentle correction for failures in this regard, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Sandra replies before between sips from the fountain. She is still far too weak to attempt any type of escape and decides to obey for now as any further punishment will only exacerbate the issue. Besides, how is she to escape if she can’t hear or see anything beyond what is presented to her.

“Good, I suggest you hydrate well and use the toilet while you’re up, it will be another twelve hours before you get another chance.”

Sandra takes her fill of water before wobbling her way to the toilet, the forced perspective of the camera making her a bit dizzy. When she gets to the toilet she stops, how does she relieve herself with this contraption between her legs? As if reading her mind, the voice chimes in, “The device is equipped with a catheter and the anal plug is hollow. When you sit on the toilet the catheter will open, draining your bladder and a trap door in the plug will open allowing you to defecate, though it may take a bit more effort than normal.” Sandra cautiously sits down and her view immediately changes to a camera inside the toilet looking up. A second later, she can see the trapdoor open under her anus and her bladder starts to drain through a hole just opposite the hinge. Sandra’s stomach turns at the idea of being forced to watch her waste exit her body, but she pushes the thought aside and attempts to appreciate the relief of an empty bladder. After the stream stops she gives a push quick to see if she needs to relieve her bowels, but decides that can wait until the next opportunity.

Contemplating being confined to the bed for the next twelve hours, Sandra decides to spend the rest of her twenty minutes walking around her prescribed area stretching her sore legs. After a bit of practice she begins to adjust to walking in a third person view. Eventually a red timer appears in the center of her view counting down from three minutes with the words “RETURN TO BED” flashing underneath it. Sandra makes her way to the water fountain and takes a long final drink before returning to her new plush prison. ‘Prison,’ she thinks, ‘even the worst prisoners get an hour outside a day, I get two short twenty minute breaks and it’s just to drink and use the bathroom.’

When the timer reaches zero her vision goes black once more and the voice returns. “Very good, you’re learning well. Most new slaves need to be shocked five or six times before they shut up, and you should see the mess they turn into when they refuse to stay within their designated areas.” An image flashes in front of Sandra’s eyes of a girl tied to a bed, HER secured to her own bed, being tormented by the master. Her shorter hair means it was taken at one of her first sessions This creep was spying on her the whole time! As soon as she recognizes the angle of the image as being taken from her laptop’s webcam another similar image of her appears. The slightly changed angle of the picture and different restrained position makes it clear that the image was taken on a different night than the last. Four more photos, each from a different self-bondage session, flash before her eyes before the image goes black and the voice resumes. “I’ve been watching you perform your own training for a while now. That contraption you made is exquisite, I just had to copy it albeit with some hardware upgrades and a more aesthetic form. The software is impressive as well, it will be a real feat to improve upon it.” Sandra feels again at the device around her waist while condemning herself for being so lax with security. Her compromised laptop had not only allowed this man access to a front row view of her most private moments, but also her schematics and programming notes. She handed him everything he needed to torment her endlessly on a silver platter. “My new version is totally wireless,” the voice continued, “It has enough battery to last for three days at full power and charges wirelessly whenever you are on the bed. It can vibrate stronger and shock much, much harder than your makeshift design. This must all be quite overwhelming to you. Do you have any questions?”

“Who are you?” Sandra asks, not expecting a real answer. After a brief second a shock screams through her clit, this one much more powerful than the earlier corrections.

“What did I tell you about respect, Slave?”

Sandra takes a moment to gather herself before she asks again, “Who are you, Sir?”

“I am your Master now, and you are my slave. I will remain your master until you are freed, you do not need to know my name, because you will address me only as Master or Sir.”

Sandra’s stomach turns at the thought, but his answer offers her a glimmer of hope and Sandra jumps on it. “You said when I’m free, how long will I be kept here, Sir?”

“That is up to you. Your term of servitude began at ninety days, but each time you refuse to obey an order or break a rule another day is added. Severe infractions such as trying to escape or attempting to harm me will result in much more time being added to your term, in addition to severe punishment. You currently have ninety-three days until your term is up. After your term is up all you have to do is ask for your freedom, if you still want it, and it will be granted. This is the last time I will tell you how much time remains on your term, it is up to you to keep track. Luckily your schedule is fixed and the interval between breaks will not change, so it shouldn’t be too hard to do. Remember this, though, if you ask for your freedom before your term is up two things will happen. You will receive a very severe punishment, and thirty days will be added to your term.”

Sandra thinks about the terms of her captivity and, realizing how difficult escape will be considering her captor’s capabilities, decides her best bet is to play his game. She proceeds with her questioning carefully, hoping to avoid any additional time being added to her term. “Where am I, Sir? Where are you, Sir?”

“You are where I want you to be, which is where you will be at all times unless you wish to be punished. I am nearby. Surely you didn’t expect an answer any more specific than that.”

Sandra balks at his non-answer and is about to berate her new master but holds her tongue. Instead, her stomach rumbles and her next question comes to mind. “I’m hungry, when do I get to eat….Sir?” She sighs in relief for catching her near slip.

“I’m glad you asked. As you know, water and the opportunity to relieve yourself will be offered twice daily, but food is a much less immediate need. It must be earned. Would you like an opportunity to earn your first meal?”

Sandra thinks it over briefly, but a second gastric groan makes her decision for her. “Yes, Sir” She meekly replies, unsure of what task her response will present.

“Very well” the voice booms as Sandra’s vision returns. This time it’s looking straight at her from across the room, The pure white background offers no perspective on how big the room is or where her area is positioned within it. “Get down on your knees at the foot of the bed.” Fear and disgust overcome her as her mind immediately guesses what this task will be. She freezes on the bed, unable to force herself to comply. The camera providing her with her only means of sight starts to move, approaching her bed as the voice returns in her ears. “You asked for this opportunity, refusing now would be insulting.” Fear of punishment, and adding time to her sentence, overrides her disgust toward her captor and gives Sandra the motivation needed to comply. She climbs down from the bed, closing her eyes to hide her shame from herself. A powerful shock hits her neck, causing her to stumble and squeal as she walks toward the foot of the bed. “I said you will see what I want you to see, watching is not optional. Closing your eyes beyond a momentary blink is forbidden anytime an image is presented. You’ve just added another day to your term.”

Sandra opens her eyes as she lowers herself to her knees and the view is now directly in front of her looking down at her kneeling petite frame. “Open your mouth, Slave.” The camera pans down to reveal a massive cock, at least 9 inches long and much thicker than the frozen pops that Sandra had practiced on in her old life. Sandra takes a deep breath and obeys. “Put your hands behind your back.” As Sandra does so, she feels a familiar magnetic click as her wrists are locked together. “Do not resist, don’t pull away, don’t even think about biting. If I feel a single tooth your punishment will be unimaginable.” A hand reaches into view, She watches it reach toward her face, but as it makes contact it startles Sandra. She’s never watched someone touch her from a third person view before, and the sensation is unsettling. The hand gently caresses her cheek, almost lovingly as it reaches behind her head and guides it toward the massive shaft. Sandra accepts his guidance passively, hoping to just get it over with, but as soon as the tip of her master’s cock enters her mouth he jerks her head violently, burying the throbbing member deep into her throat. Sandra gags on the intrusion, but the hand behind her head firmly holds her in place. After what feels like an eternity, the hand grabs her hair roughly and pulls her head back until only the tip remains in her mouth. Sandra gasps for breath, drawing in whatever air she can around the giant cock filling her mouth, but her breath is interrupted as her master thrusts again, pounding his dick deep into her throat. She forces her eyes to remain open, watching helplessly from his view as he continues to forcefully fuck her face, and Sandra struggles to maintain both her breath and her compliance with this violent assault. After several minutes of clinging to consciousness against her dwindling supply of fresh oxygen, she feels him tense up just as his seed shoots deep in the back of her mouth. He holds her still until the spasms subside, then thrusts once more deep into her throat before withdrawing and releasing his grasp on her hair. Sandra falls to her side, coughing and choking on the invading seed as it oozes from her mouth. “I thought you were hungry,” the voice mocks, “A hungry slave would have eagerly swallowed her master’s seed.” The camera view recedes from her before her vision goes black again. “I guess we’ll see if you’re really hungry tomorrow.” Her cuffs unlock behind her back and her vision is restored to the above view. A warning flashes as she struggles to catch her breath, the timer giving her only ten seconds to return to the bed. Sandra struggles to lift herself off the floor, barely making it to her plush prison before time runs out. “Enjoy your rest, Slave. I’ll see you in the morning.” Her vision goes black again, and the shiny new device locked between her legs springs to life.
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