Free Out of Oblivion by Taren Reese Ocoda

really care about love. They cared only about wealth. They loved the lifestyle and social status wealth brought them.
    Instead of going to his clients, he started bringing them home. Apparently he'd only stopped this after I moved in because he wasn't ready for me to know what he did for a living. Now it didn't matter. Most of the time he'd lock me in my cage when he had a client over. Most of them didn't know about me, and their fantasies were simple enough he could keep it to the bedroom. The same bedroom he had given me when I moved in had been used for this purpose.
    Some had more adventurous fantasies, and he'd bring them to the basement. These women knew I was there, and that I was his pet. Sometimes they'd pet me as if I were a real dog. It didn't seem unusual to them that this man kept a girl locked up in his basement. It made me wonder if they were as psychotic as Kurt. Then I'd be left in the cage and forced to listen as he pleasured these women over and over for hours.
    On rare occasion, he'd get a client who had a fantasy that involved another woman. They often liked to watch him rape me or beat me, and sometimes they would join in. I'd be forced to go down on women as he raped me or caned my bum. They would all get off on it while I cried. The women thought it was great and often told me I was a great little pet. It sickened me. I never knew how many messed up people there were in the world.
    One of his regulars, an obese woman he called Mistress Wendy, loved playing with Kurt's pet bitch.
    "I want her to lick me 'til I come," Mistress Wendy said one day.
    Kurt removed me from the cage and brought me over to a chair where she was sitting, her legs wide.
    "You have three minutes to make her come," he said. "If you fail, Mistress Wendy gets to spank you as hard and for as long as she likes."
    Mistress Wendy clapped her hands with glee, obviously loving the idea. I bit back a cry of protest. I knew he was setting me up to fail on purpose. I closed my eyes. I always closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was somewhere else when I had to do this. Mistress Wendy grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled me to her crotch. She smelled like rotten eggs, and I wondered when she had bathed last. I had to force myself not to start heaving. I held my breath when I could and pretended again. I was on a beach in Hawaii, and my mom and I were lounging in the sun and drinking cocktails while my father surfed. It didn't matter how old he got. He never gave up surfing. He loved it. That's why they moved to Hawaii when I was a baby.
    "Time's up," Kurt said, bringing me out of my fantasy.
    He pulled me over Mistress Wendy's lap by my hair.
    "May I use the paddle on her today? She deserves a reward after doing so well. She didn't make me come, but damn was it nice having her tongue on me."
    "Of course." Kurt handed her the paddle off the wall.
    She wasn't gentle, and I was sobbing after the first two strikes with the paddle. By the time she finished, I knew I'd have bruising. Back in my cage, I couldn't even sit. I curled up in a ball on my side, which left me more squished than normal. My anger rose as I listened to the woman's moans and cries of pleasure. Kurt had told me all women were manipulative bitches. What made her better than me? He hadn't allowed me to have an orgasm since shortly after I moved in. After all the torture he'd put me through, I deserved some relief… some pleasure.
    I lifted a leg, wincing at the pain in my bum and masturbated. Kurt might think my only purpose was to be pleasing to my Masters and according to him all men were my Masters, but I had needs too. I thought I had been quiet, but when Mistress Wendy left, Kurt came to the cage. He pulled me out and had me on my hands and knees with my legs apart.
    "If you move or cry out, you will get the whip instead," he told me.
    Then he used the cane between my legs. Staying quiet was hard. I had to bite my lip to refocus the pain and hold my breath at times to