Black's Shower Service Enslavement (Part 2)
After a vigorous round of service, about thirty minutes before switching to the next partner, it's time to wash her body.
The shower room sits at the end of a corridor lined with multiple rooms.
Stark naked, Black Twilight crawls down the hall on her hands and knees, inching forward.
A dog collar is fastened around her neck, the leash's end gripped loosely in the hand of the man strolling casually behind her.
He savors the sight of her ass swaying side to side, occasionally yanking the leash if she speeds up too much or slapping her cheeks with a sharp smack if she's too slow.
She has to be careful, too—no letting the semen still pooled in her pussy leak out and dirty the floor...
Once they reach the shower room, she first wets the man's body thoroughly, then lathers it up with foam.
Hands are to be used as little as possible. Breasts, belly, groin, thighs—service him with her body however she can.
The dick, above all, demands extra care—several times more attention.
With reverence and affection, gratitude and cherishing... that's how she was trained to clean it.
'My body... it's too sensitive...'
Every time her breasts or nipples rub against him, or her groin grinds against his firm thighs, waves of ecstatic pleasure surge through her.
Just washing him like this feels like it could make her cum lightly on the spot.
Bearing down on the bliss as best she can, Black Twilight somehow manages to coat his body in enough foam, then rinses it off with water.
After that one round of washing him, now it's her turn to get clean.
Having her slave away like this to wash the man's body is standard procedure—mandatory, even. But for Black Twilight, it varies.
Some men order her to wash herself; others help her out.
This one falls into the latter category.
"Alright, Magical Girl. Time to get you cleaned up."
He soaks her from head to toe—thoroughly, very thoroughly.
Next, he scoops a generous handful of foam and spreads it languidly over her body.
Of course, those hands roam freely to her sensitive, shameful spots, probing without restraint.
The first few times this happened, she'd resisted in all sorts of ways, muttering complaints. But now? She's resigned, doll-like—mouth shut, body surrendered.
Still, she occasionally twitches and trembles at the lingering caresses on her sensitive areas, clamping her legs together or letting out pathetic little sounds to entertain him.
Haaah... ngh... hng...
She tries so hard to stifle her moans and pleasure, but it's all futile.
Usually, she can hold out and limit it to one or two climaxes. But with her sensitivity tuned even higher—her body reduced to that of a third-rate, pathetic bitch in heat—enduring is impossible.
In the end, she cums from the breast massage and nipple play alone. Her tits kneaded and climaxing, milk sprays out in forceful jets.
The man chuckles, murmuring with amusement, "Just got you clean, too," before obsessively rubbing and scrubbing her nipples again. That sends her into another nipple orgasm.
Multiple climaxes from her breasts alone—but it doesn't end there.
"Nngh... oh...! Stop... please...!"
Next target: her belly.
He kneads the bulging lower abdomen—the spot right over her womb—pressing and stimulating her portio.
Attacked at her feminine core, Black Twilight writhes in distress, twitching desperately.
She barely holds back from cumming... only for her pussy and clit to become the new focus.
It wasn't endurance on her part. He'd read her reactions, dialing it back just enough, then releasing at the perfect moment.
All that built-up pleasure? He unleashes it in one go, targeting her ultimate weakness: clit and pussy.
"Kkiiiii?! Kyaaaaahhh~~~!!! Hweeeek, hwaaaaaah~~!!"
"Whoa there, Magical Girl. Behave. Gotta get you spotless."
Clit: scrub-scrub-scrub-scrub-scrub.
Pussy: scrunch-scrunch-scrunch-scrunch.
Clit again: scrub-scrub-scrub-scrub-scrub...
Her weak spots assaulted relentlessly, Black Twilight shrieks in ecstasy.
Her vision flashes white; electric jolts pierce her from bottom to top, tormenting without mercy.
She cums. Skyrockets straight through the ceiling in orgasm.
Even after that massive peak, another follows immediately. She feels like her body, her mind, her clit—everything's breaking.
"Kkiiit...!! No, nooooo!! Stooop!!!"
Her cries echo through the narrow shower stall.
Her hips buck wildly; a gushing fountain sprays out. Good thing it's the shower room...
With that, they finish up the shower and step out.
A brief rest follows, then Black Twilight is handed off to the next man in line.
"Alright, Magical Girl. My turn now. I'll be developing that portio erogenous zone of yours—especially with these toys. Looking forward to it?"
Her eyes fill with despair at the sight of the room packed with sex development tools—and the electric massager in the man's hand.
For hours, her milk-leaking tits take a brutal pounding, followed by merciless development of other parts...
................
...........
......
Black Twilight is a slave.
Slaves get no human rights.
Even so, she does get breaks now and then—not out of humanity, but to preserve the merchandise for long-term use. Like giving a machine downtime.
For the same reason, meals are nutritionally perfect; high-end desserts come with breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snacks to ease stress; alcohol's provided; leisure time is even allowed sometimes.
By those standards alone, it's better treatment than she had on the surface before being kidnapped.
Not that the dormitory or factory mistreated her—it’s just that the service here is exceptionally high-quality.
But that's all it is.
Breaks and leisure don't mean leaving the prison. Surfacing? Impossible.
Outside those times, it's nonstop: sucking cock up top or down below.
Back on the surface, following the Factory's orders gave her some freedom. Losing that entirely? Stifling.
...Or so others might feel.
But Black Twilight is different.
She's a true antisocial shut-in hikikomori.
She prefers rolling in the damp darkness of a curtained basement over sunlight any day.
That's why this place feels cozy to her.
Some resentment lingers from the kidnapping and confinement, but even that's eroding with time.
Three square meals, pricey desserts, latest-gen gaming handheld tossed her way when she's bored...
Work? Just let them puppet her body. Sex feels good anyway.
It even kills the boredom—better than rotting in a cell, right...?
Like that.
Surprisingly, Black Twilight adapts quickly to life here.
So much so, she might even forget about escaping.
Of course, the hypnosis program embedded in her head plays a role in those thoughts.
Not all at once, but gradually: dulling her resistance, boosting adaptability. Forcing her into a naturally obedient, compliant slave.
She's completely unaware, of course.
Without someone telling her, she'll never know...
['Trait: Exposure Mania (Severe)' has been added.]
[You have become so accustomed to being naked that clothing feels unnatural and uncomfortable. The comfort and joy of exposing yourself intensifies further.]
['Trait: Common Sense Inversion (Exposure)' has been added.]
[Your common sense has been inverted from ordinary people. Wearing clothes now feels shameful; being naked feels natural.]
Always naked from morning till night here—somehow, these traits emerged as a Magical Girl specialty.
Is this really okay? Not that there's anything she can do about it...
Munching on the provided snacks and fiddling with her game console, the door opens—someone's here.
"Resting well, Magical Girl? Time to work. That okay?"
"...What if I say no? You gonna let me off?"
"Hm. You'd have to be. But if not, I'll make it okay. Want that?"
"...Forget it. Just work, right."
Work time again today, huh.
Black Twilight sighs, powers off the console, and slides off the bed.
Work, work... work is fun... labor is joy... The Factory taught her that... so today, she'll work hard too...