On her 20th birthday, Skye got very, very drunk. She was out at a nightclub, and it never even occurred to her that someone might have slipped something into her drink, and when a nice handsome man offered to drive her home, she draped herself all over him in her sluttiest style, and accepted his offer.
That was the last thing she remembered of the night.
When she woke up the next morning, she was *not* at home, but rather in a strange bed. She was completely nude, and… was that *sperm*, leaking from her pussy? Had she fucked someone?
Where were her clothes? She couldn’t see them anywhere.
There was no one around, so she staggered out of bed and threw open the curtains to reveal a balcony. She stepped out onto it, and surveyed the locale.
She was somewhere remote – rural. Ahead of her, a forest of trees stretched as far as she could see.
She was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was – naked, alone, somewhere that she didn’t recognise. Did anyone even know she was here.
There were footsteps behind her. A man had stepped out onto the balcony with her. She turned to look at him.
It was the man from last night.
“Where am I? Where are my clothes?” she asked, trying to cover her tits and pussy with her hands.
“Where are your clothes?” the man repeated, in an amused voice. “That’s a good question. But you’ve missed out on some other good questions.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like, ‘Where is my phone? Where are my car keys? Where is my wallet? Where is my birth control?’” said the man. He laughed. “And the answer is the same for all of them. It doesn’t matter where they are, because you won’t need them ever again.”
Skye’s eyes widened. She wanted to run. But the balcony was high, and the man was blocking the door.
“What… what do you mean?” she asked, in a quavering voice. “What have you done?”
“All those things – your clothes, your phone, your birth control – were interfering with the natural destiny of a fine young fucktoy like you,” said the man. “So I got rid of them.”
She screamed. They were somewhere remote, yes, but maybe somebody would hear.
The man grimaced – and slapped her across the face.
“I’d like to say no one will hear you,” he told her, “but unfortunately that’s not true. *I* will hear you, and I’d prefer to preserve my ears. Make a noise without permission again, and you’ll get another slap.”
She whimpered. She wanted to cry.
“There are a few other things that you won’t be needing anymore,” said the man, “and we’ll get rid of those in time, too. It just takes a little more work.”
“Things I won’t need?” asked Skye, in a small voice. “Like what?”
“Like walking on two legs,” said the man. “And talking. And thinking for yourself.” He laughed again. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first bitch I’ve brought back here. There are four other pretty little things in the barn that will help you get used to your new life as the sex-animal that you are.”
Skye screamed again. The man slapped her, and slapped her again, and then pushed her up against the balcony railing and undid his pants.
“Shush, little fuckpet,” he said. “It’s time to start your new life. And this can be a pleasant life, or a very painful unpleasant life, depending on how good you are at pleasing your new master.”
And Skye was very keen to avoid unpleasantness, so as the man used his knees to spread her legs, and then pushed his cock into her exposed pussy, she moaned, and pressed her tits against him, and tried to be a very good little fuckpet indeed, because she understood that from now on it was the only thing about her that was ever going to matter…
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