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His Mysterious Voice Pt. 01

Story Info
The mysterious voice in her head isn't her imagination...
1.7k words
4.15
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 07/05/2018
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Hi, this is my first story here, I have been meaning to write for years but just haven't gotten around to it before now (too busy reading other great writers on here).

All characters are well over 18 years old, its purely fictional, and I appreciate all constructive feedback. I hope you enjoy.

-~-~-~-~-~-~*~-~-~-~-~-~-

I don't know when the voice started precisely. It was so quiet at. First I figured I just imagined it. The words soft and almost incomprehensible to be in with.

I am, in my own view, by no means attractive. Short, fat, and prone to breakouts of spots with my only redeeming features being eyes that changed colour with my surroundings and my hair which was a gorgeous shade and thickness when clean. The word: "Desirable" was so foreign a concept to me I needed to look it up in the dictionary several times to confirm it was actually a real thing (along with "self-confidence" and "self-worth"). So it naturally never occurred to me that the voice in my head urging me to masturbate, to imagine kneeling before a faceless figure sucking their cock as deep as it could go, the occasional phantom hands I felt roaming my body or voice whispering in my ear that I was a good girl if I just let go, obeyed, submitted... was anything more than a subconscious part of my brain desperate to feel sexual stimulation after so long a dry patch.

The voice remained in my head for at least a year, urging on more public sessions of masturbation, longer sessions, deeper submission. The scenarios explained and imagined began to get more intense. I imagined servicing several more figures with enthusiasm as the initial one looked on pleased and appeared to be paid by the new figures.

"That's it... Good girl... Good girl... You love it. You love to submit to me. To obey. To surrender. Surrender. Surrender your body and mind to me. To be owned. All you want to do is please. All you live to do is please me. Because it feels so good. So right. So good to be a good girl and obey." The gentle voice was insistent in the back of my mind and a groan softly broke out while I arched my back. My hand down my panties and thrusting a warm overused vibrator over and over again into my sopping cunt.

New desires slowly took hold until I could barely contain them nor my disappointment at their stubborn insistence on remaining fantasy and not reality.

I dreamed of being kidnapped from my home. Taken quickly and quietly with no fuss, no ransom note, and no trail. Of being made unconscious before being shipped in a crate, not on a plane or appearing as a passenger, but shipped like an object with no need of passport that could be tracked. Shipped to another country where the other side I would be extracted from the crate. Inspected... And then sold to the highest bidder that would have me. Used in whatever way my owner wanted. A slave in the most literal and old-fashioned sense.

Whenever these fantasies played out in my head, it felt like I could almost feel the voice in my head, not speaking, but smiling... Happy.

A year and eight months after the voice began... It stopped. I was shocked, my mind reeling from the absence suddenly there and my heart... Sunk in disappointment. No more voice to obey, to submit to, to surrender to...

3 weeks after the voice had disappeared I was sitting at my computer browsing my internet browser for free porn sites when suddenly I couldn't see a thing.

Someone had put a blindfold over my eyes and hand over my mouth. Instictively and in shock I struggled against the hold and tried to bite the hand through the rough leather glove they wore.

Then I heard it. Him. The voice. Only instead of in my head this time I heard it whisper into my ear, the gentle hot breath caressing the soft skin of my ear and jaw.

"Surrender." Just the one soft word and suddenly I was slumping, putty in the mystery man's hands as he gently pressed me up into a standing position. My brain hazy and unable to fully process. Then I obediently stood and let him tie my hands behind my back - all the while explaining that this wasn't to stop me escaping that I didn't want to escape (to my shame he was right), but to bring home that I was property now and that no matter what I wanted... What he wanted was what was going to happen.

Wrapping some of the length of rope tying my hands around my waist as well so that it would lead off my body like a leash. Tugging to test it a bit the mysterious owner of the voice I had heard for so long in my head then began to lead me away, through my back door, a hole in my garden fence. All the while I was silent and obedient as I followed despite not being gagged by my captor. After the hole in the fence we went through the woods by my house (something I could tell from the uneven ground and sticks poking into my legs), until I was put into what felt like the back of a van. The door closed behind me with a slam and I heard footsteps and another door. I didn't know if the mysterious man had an accomplice or was entirely on his own but soon the van started and drove away with my quiet and confused self in the back.

At some point I must have been lulled asleep by either the travel or the odd feeling of warmth in my belly I had felt growing ever since I had heard the man's voice out loud. The result was I was woken when I was picked up and carried (definitely by two men this time) before having something shoved over my mouth and nose. Despite my blindfold I soon discovered it to be some sort of oxygen mask. Gently as they could the men placed me in a crate, my body nestled in the copious amount of hay used to no doubt protect me in transit.

Some moments later when I was starting to feel nervous enough to actually ask questions I felt a short sharp sting in my arm and a odd cold feeling flood my system.

Whatever was in the drug it made my mouth dry, head woozy, and eyes heavier than the last time I had gone to sleep. My brain sleepily guessed a sedative before I passed out completely not hearing my captors place the lid of the crate on and then begin to nail it down.

-~-~-~-~-~-~*~-~-~-~-~-~-

Of course I had no idea how long I was out for in my dreamless drug induced slumber. By the time I awoke I was naked, lying on a thin mattress on the floor of what looked to be a bedroom and wearing a solid collar that was chained to a hook on the side of a large king sized bed beside me which boasted a cage below it, what appeared to be stocks built into the footboard... And a man peacefully sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Being without blindfold and able to get on all fours while I swayed worryingly (at least enough that I wasn't going to try and stand up yet), I crawled to the edge of the bed to get a better look at my roommate. I didn't know if he was the one who owned the mysterious voice, one of my captors, or someone else entirely.

The man looked to be tall (although to my 5ft 1in that could describe most people), with dark hair and handsome face. His body wasn't obese as mine, but nor was it overly athletic and he appeared to have a bit of a paunch. He was wearing dark grey pajama bottoms but was topless showing a few tattoos on his upper arms and a surprising swirl of chest hair. His eyes were a startlingly dark green which was so easy to fall into that it took me several minutes to realise that seeing his eyes meant he was awake.

A broad grin spread over his face a bit and the voice that had been my companion for so long purred. "Good morning slave. So good to finally have you where you belong."

A shiver ran up my spine and I stifled a whimper as I stared at him not knowing what to say.

Slowly he leaned over taking hold of the ring in my collar that chained me to the bed, pulling me forward insistently toward him so he could kiss me full on the lips, his other hand almost lazily moving to fondle my breast and squeeze my nipple until I squealed for him. I could feel his smile against my lips before he pulled away.

"You will call me Master or Sir. I have no other name as far as you are concerned. I am your owner. I picked you my darling pet as you picked me."

I must have looked confused as he read it on my face.

"All those naughty little posts online, so anonymous, so needy, yearning, requiring taming... Owning. Rewiring. So I lured you, with stories I knew you would read, I got a foothold in that deliciously depraved mind of yours and began to rewrite and rewire your urges, your desires, your wants to be what I wanted. To turn you into my perfect slave slut. One to serve me, belong to me, one I can whore out, breed, sell on if I get bored."

He moved the hand that had been fondling my breast and suddenly slid his middle finger into my dripping pussy up to the second knuckle and then stopped moving, just leaving it there. He let the seconds drag on as I bit my lip and tried not to give into the urge to fuck myself onto his finger.

"A slave who will always be wet, willing, and waiting." He whispered in my ear, his breath teasing my skin. Just as the desire burning in me to move was becoming unbearable my new Master suddenly took his finger out of my cunt and forced the sopping digit in my mouth to suck.

"And now slave," he said with a devilish grin, "your real training will begin."

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