Bound To The Ren - Formerly(SlaveToTheRen)

A Debt

TRIGGER WARNINGS - EVERYTHING !!!! 

IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO REAL-LIFE VIOLENCE AND HORRORS, PLEASE SKIP MY STORIES COMPLETELY INSTEAD OF REPORTING THEM AND HAVING THEM REMOVED. NOTHING I WRITE IS GLORIFIED, IT ALL HAS A PURPOSE FOR THE PLOT AND GROWTH OF MY CHARACTERS. I WRITE MY CHARACTERS INTO SITUATIONS THAT HAPPEN IN EVERYDAY LIFE. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THAT, PLEASE MOVE ON AND HAVE A NICE DAY!

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 "Girl! Where is my drink?"

"Right here, Master." I bow my head and curtsy as I hand my Master his drink. It's the same glass of Corellian whiskey that he drinks every night. He's on his third one, which means I'll be pulled into his lap or pushed onto my knees soon.

"Lazy bitch."

Master is in a fowler mood than usual tonight. I don't know what has upset him this evening, but I do know that he will use my body to make himself feel better. It's been like this for years since he won me off of my last Master, and I much preferred my previous Master.

"I'm sorry, Master. Can I get you anything else?"

His hand reaches out and I'm pulled down into his lap. I yelp in surprise even though I am not surprised at all. My Master's hand, which is not holding his drink, turns my body so that I am straddling him as I face his hideous face. He is old and fat and can't get his dick up half the time. Yet somehow, it is always my fault, and on those nights, I receive a beating instead of having to fuck him. I much prefer the beatings, if I'm honest.

My body has never betrayed me with my Master. I have never enjoyed the act of the forced fuckings I have to endure from this man. I am however immensely grateful that shortly after he acquired me he had an implant put in me to keep me from becoming with child. At least there is that.

My Master's hand wanders my body as I sit in his lap, facing him with my hands clasped behind my back. My uniform is nothing more than a black bikini and a metal collar. The top clasps in the front and, has no straps and falls down quite a bit since I am unfortunately well endowed in the chest region. My bottom is a black tongue that constantly rides too deep in my ass and barely covers my sex in the front. But when Master is in a mood, I am forced to walk around completely naked, and on those days, he usually takes my body over every surface in the house. And then the next day I can not walk properly. On the worst days, he doesn't allow me to shower or clean myself up, and I reek of his cum as it sits dried and yet still sticky between my legs.

At night, when I am chained to his bed, and he wakes up in the middle of the night to grunt on top of me until he can sleep, I pray for death. Death is the only way out for a slave in this galaxy. Even though slaves are outlawed, it doesn't stop people like my Master from owning them. There was another girl here when I arrived, but within a couple of months of my arrival, she was dead. She tried to escape, and my Master tortured her to death and made me watch. As much as I sought death, I did not seek the pain that would come with it.

Master leans forward and places his lips on my neck as his hand unclasps my top. He pulls it away and tosses it to the floor beside his oversized chair. I watch him with dead eyes as he finishes his drink and sets the glass on the table.

"Refill my drink and bring the bottle."

"Yes, Master."

I stand up and walk to the bar on the back wall, where I retrieve the bottle. Images of bashing him in the head flash through my mind. But I am weak and have no upper body strength, not enough to defeat him anyway. I walk back over to my Master and fill his glass before setting the bottle next to the glass.