The Room? (first story, bdsm, slave, rape, bimbo, solo F)

Hey guys, this is actually my first foray into the world of writing erotica. I know it’s not exactly Lord of the Rings in terms of world building, but any kind of opinions would be welcome!
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I honestly thought licking a stranger’s semen off of my own toes was the most degrading thing these people could do to me. Then, I thought that having to respond to every question they asked me with “I don’t know, I’m just a whore,” was the worst.
I miss those days.

They’ve kept me in this room so long that it’s starting to feel like home. Even if they unlocked my collar and said, “You’re free to go!” I probably wouldn’t leave. I don’t know what it’s like to be anything other than a sex doll.

The room they keep me in isn’t exactly the Ritz. It’s a larger room with dozens of sex toys: vibrators, dildos, nipple clamps, collars, paddles, riding crops, you name it. In the corner is a standalone rack on which my various uniforms hang. There aren’t many, as most of the clients prefer me naked or rip my clothes to shreds. The bed, if you can call it that, is 10 wooden pallets stacked on top of each other with “mattress” stuffed with the ripped pieces of my clothing to lay on. There’s also a cabinet containing cleaning supplies, I am to keep the room in tip-top shape between guests.

I only have a few minutes to make the room look like I hadn’t seen any clients that day. The early days made that difficult, since they broke a different finger every day.
I used to struggle to laugh when I would have to remove pallets for our shorter guests. That was beaten out of my very quick by a man they called ‘Little Mike’. I still have the burn scars on the bottom of my feet, but that’s another story.

Today, one of the more vanilla regulars is here. All he asks for is that I undergo “bimboification” in front of him. He’s one of the rare clients that lets me speak normally, until the “transformation” is complete and I have to say everything using “valley girl” inflection and words.

Layering on my lipstick, putting on a blonde wig, and applying heavy blush while naked in front of him is something that would’ve embarrassed me to no end in the past.

“Totally! For sure!” are my vocabulary now, a cheerleading outfit with an extremely short skirt is my new identity for this customer. He loves it when I giggle and pretend not to understand “big” words like “priority” and “daily.” It used to humiliate me, pretending to be that ignorant, I was a straight-A student after all — no. I can’t think of that person anymore. That person is dead. That person is lying on the floor of the alley where they first took me captive. That person never had to undergo the degradation of licking the floor clean, of only using my own vaginal lubrication to mop. She’s gone, and she will never endure this.

“Haha! I guess so!” I say with a wink and my tongue sticking out, although I can’t really remember what he asked me. His ritual is always the same and I find myself going on auto-pilot, it’s a welcome reprieve. “Like, whatever that means! Haha!”
It used to bother me that he was a girl’s basketball coach at my old middle school, but I don’t care anymore. Maybe if he’s doing it to me, he’s not doing it to them? Who knows. I may not even be the only person here doing sex work. I feel him release his seed inside of me, his hands gripping tightly onto my butt cheeks. It feels like he’d gone a while without a release, if his velocity and short lasting time are any indication. I choose to view it as a good thing.

I marked the coach off my mental checklist, and waited for the priest to come in. I was already mentally preparing my nun outfit and crucifix when one of the Daddies sauntered in through the door.

“Alright, whore. I know Father James is usually next, but he was arrested in a sting operation…dumb bastard. Anyway, Bond is coming in since his regular girl is still in recovery. Good luck. Don’t let him hit the same part of your head more than once.”
He walks out, the door clanging shut. I feel my bladder
release in terror. I bend over and begin licking up my mess, not even noticing the fresh roll of paper towels on the table nearby.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/b0bslj/the_room_first_story_bdsm_slave_rape_bimbo_solo_f