Only men talked to her, and mostly just her Master.
She saw nothing else of life. She was always locked in her quarters or bound, gagged, and blindfolded for a road trip to some savage “party”. She never saw the outside. No friends, no television, no music, no recreation, she knew only the pain of women and the pleasure of men, master’s satisfied expression when her quarters were clean, the occasional “good girl” after she had endured pain and provided a man with an orgasm.
A pat on the head from Master, perhaps even a gentle flick of Master’s thumb across her clitoris when she had served his cock.
With time, she began to desire Master’s approval. She wanted him to hurt and use her, get pleasure from her, be pleased with her. There was nothing in her life except imprisonment and slavery. The thought of pleasing Master, of a moment of approval from him, began to turn her on, allow her to become aroused. One day, after taking a harsh beating that left her tits, belly, thighs, and ass covered with welts, Master told his crying slavegirl that she had been a good girl, rubbed her clit with his fingers, and she came.
Since then…
Mmmaster? Please, Master?
Get your mind off your own filthy fuckhole and please my cock. That’s what your whole body exists for, bitch: My pleasure!

Want to enjoy the full story? Come on, let’s go!