From my card, right-most column, fourth & fifth row.

Content warnings: …slavery, drugs, dub-con touching, confinement….

Wet, Messy, Dirty
Slave “I live to serve you.” Was it the drug or the bond making that feel so good?

“Yes, you do. And I will protect you. Follow.” His abrupt rise disoriented her, and, even on all fours, she stumbled. He walked slowly, giving her time to reorient, but getting four limbs straightened out took all her attention; she was in some sort of tile pit and being hosed down before she knew what hit her.

The water was cold, like little knives all over her skin, forcing its way into her most intimate places in wet violation, horrible and wonderful

Vehicular
She found herself following him again, down endless hard tile floors, until the floor changed to concrete and he took her by the arm, pulling her up.

“Stand.”

They were in a large garage, behind a large car, the trunk popped. He was laying a blanket down in the trunk… Yaminah shook her head. No, no …

“Please, no.”

“We’re going to take a little trip. In.”

Whimpering, terrified, she climbed into the trunk, mortification doubling her terror as he pushed a pacifier between her lips. “Relax. There’s more… sedative… in that.” The trunk closed on her, shivering, relaxed. Trapped.

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