Maggie’s Slutty Nightmare Ch. 10.1

It was almost like walking into a dream as I entered the large, dark warehouse. I couldn’t see much, even with my eyes adjusting and the only thing I could hear was the sounds of my heels, tapping against the hard floor. I just kept walking in, almost feeling like there was nothing I was going to walk into but feared that I was about to be grabbed any second by a mysterious figure or group of men. The thought slowed my steps, with each click of my heels synchronized with the beating of my heart. A light turned on and shined down in front of me, illuminating what looked like a box with windows and as my steps came to a stop, for a moment so did my heart.

As I came closer to the box and looked through the window, I was surprised by the next sight I saw. It looked exactly like my room on the inside, my bed, linens, dresser, the same placement of windows and doors and every last detail down to the color of the walls. The only thing that was missing was the ceiling which was completely open allowing the spotlight from above to illuminate the room. I had a very bad feeling where this was leading, was this supposed to be my new cage, did they really expect me to walk in and stay here. My anxiety grew at the feeling that I was about to become their caged slave, that the rest of my life was now over, that my friends and family would never see me ever again, that this was all a trap and it was a mistake coming.

I heard footsteps coming from all around, echoing through the warehouse, I couldn’t tell if there were 5 men or dozens as my fear started to grow if I would even survive whatever they had planned for me tonight. Would they really expect me to be used by an army of men and come out unharmed after it all? I could only imagine lying in that replica of my bed as man after man took their turns with my body, using me, unloading in or on me and walking out for the next man to take his turn. Maybe it would be more than one at a time, maybe they would restrain me, blindfold me, spank me until I complied to willingly participate. I questioned if all of these men knew what was going on, knew the truth about me, knew about this blackmail or were just willing participants promised an innocent little girl to fuck.

I felt their presence around me, the sounds of their breathing, the warmth coming off of their bodies and I couldn’t move. I waited for them to make the next move, to grab me, pull me into the room, strip me of the little clothing I had on as they took me in a way, I’ve grown accustomed to. A way that lacked approval, gentleness of warmth, just raw, unbridled, ravenous lust. With all of the waiting that felt like an eternity, my anxiety grew with each passing moment. Like closing your eyes waiting for the pain to inevitably come but doesn’t. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe to steady myself, to find the calmness I needed to badly right now, to find my strength that this was all so I could find a way out and continue with my life and whatever it is I needed to do to get that, I had to.

SLAM!

I didn’t hear the door open to the room, nor did I notice that someone had walked in, but I definitely was startled back to reality as I heard it loudly shut and in walking into my room, that room, was a young girl dressed in a hoodie and cargo shorts, with short tomboyish hair, no makeup and a look of confusion on her face. I myself was rather confused at exactly what I was looking at and for a second wondered if I was really seeing, what I was seeing. If I hadn’t known any better, if there was any more doubt in what I was witnessing, I would have thought that was me walking into the room. I watched as she stood in front of the bed and didn’t move, as if she was waiting for some instruction, like she was nothing more than a doll only motivated by her master’s will.

“Remove the hoodie,” a loud voice came over a speaker causing me to look up and around for the source, echoing as it spoke, powerful, commanding.

I quickly looked back through the window into the room and watched as the girl, without hesitation, pulled the hoodie up over her head and let it drop to the floor. Standing straight once again, hands at her side, looking straight ahead, awaiting the next command. By her expression I almost thought she was hypnotized, unable to comprehend what was going on around her. Her shirt was baggy as well and looked familiar, a Tsunami Bomb shirt that I swear I owned myself but had long forgotten about it.

“Now the shorts,” the voice sternly commanded.

I watched as she undid the button, pulled the zipper down and let them fall to the ground, her thin, dainty legs exposed as the shorts pulled around her feet. She stepped out rather clumsily with one foot and kicked it away with the other. I traced up her legs and just saw a hint of her blue panties as her shirt was so big that it covered most of her like a short dress. She stood straight and still once more, with no sign of embarrassment or timidness.

“The shirt now, but slowly, like we taught you.”

She reached down with both hands, pulling the material close to her body, the hem of the shirt racking against her skin until they reached under her breasts and began to pull them up along with the material. Just as the bottom of the shirt was about to reach her neck, her boobs suddenly spilled out or rather popped out from under the shirt completely exposed, she hadn’t been wearing a bra. They were about the same size and shape as mine and with a slight glint from the light above, were also pierced. She took it off and ruffled her hair, but instead of dropping the shirt to the ground, folded it and placed it on top of her clothes, as if it had some kind of importance.

She stood back up once again, hands at her sides, with no intention of hiding her nakedness or her arousal as I saw a small wet stain starting to form at the crotch of her panties.