The Enslavement of Sophie Milan (For M or F Dominant)

Started by Númenor, October 02, 2011, 06:51:07 PM

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Númenor

(17/06/12 update - If you'd like 'Sophie' to replace by a male figure, I'm open to that idea)




The Enslavement of Sophie Milan

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.



The slow, steady sound of water drops falling from high above and crashing into the cold stone floor was the first thing that she heard. Cold. She was cold, the air was cold. Still in a half-conscious daze she shifted her body this way and that, feeling what she rested on. Her knees she could feel were resting on stone, wet stone, and like the air it was frigid as ice. Her hands, her wrists, were resting on cool, rough metal, as was her throat. Without opening her eyes she rested her weight down, allowing the metal to support her body. She did not know where she was, but perhaps more worrisome than that, she didn't know who she was.

She tried to focus her mind. She attempted to conjure up memories, any memory. She couldn't remember anything, her thoughts an amorphous mass of swirling images, blurred sounds and jumbled words. The harder she tried, the thicker and more indistinguishable the thoughts and feelings became. Through the haze though one word drifted to the forefront of her mind. One word that stood out from the chaos.

"Sophie..." The word escaped her lips softly, partially echoing about the room she was in. "Sophie..." She repeated the word again. Sophie, was that her name? She must have been more than Sophie. She must have had more than one name, but no further words came to mind. She, Sophie, clung onto the name, for she had nothing else to grasp hold of. The time for finding out more about herself would have to come later, no matter how difficult it was to go on with just a single six-letter word. Very slowly, she opened her eyes.

For several seconds she could see nothing, blinded. Light was spilling in from somewhere high above and behind her, and after so long with her eyes closed it hurt to look around, even with such gentle illumination. As her vision adjusted Sophie could make out a shadow directly in front of her. It was unrecognizable, a vague T-shape that blocked out the light. As she turned her head she saw a small bottle just to the left of the T-shaped shadow. It was tiny, and couldn't have held more than a few drops of liquid, if that. A dirty label was attached to one side, but the writing upon it was so small that Sophie could not make it out, no matter how hard she squinted. She focused her attention back on the shadow.

As she moved her arms and hands it became apparent just what was forming the darkness. Her arms were spread partially apart, just in line with her head, secured fast in circular metal restraints. She tried to tug them back, but her hands were slightly too large and the diameter of the restraints just a fraction too small for her to release herself from them. Her head too was secured firmly in place, locked in the middle hoop. She twisted her neck and clenched her hands, her actions growing more fierce and more desperate as she failed to free herself. She made to move her feet, but they too were held firmly in place. Like her hands her feet were locked in place behind her, her legs spread and her ankles locked into the same sort of metal cuffs. In such a position she was knelt down, unable to rise up from the cold wet stone on which she rested.

She tugged and writhed against the metal frame that held her down, goosebumps forming on her skin. Her skin... In an instant, she realised that she was naked. She had been so consumed by her thoughts, so concerned with trying to work out how she was positioned that she hadn't thought to think about why it was so cold. Her feeling of vulnerability increased further as she twisted her head frantically, her silky locks of blonde hair waving this way and that as she took in all she could from her restricted viewing angle.

The only light source was from a window behind her, but it was enough to illuminate the room - the dungeon - she was in. Water dripped from the stone ceiling, and bare, featureless mossy stone composed the walls. Everywhere moisture dripped. She shivered again, though it was not just the cold this time. Fear and confusion were filling her up rapidly, only serving to fuel her pointless struggles.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice high-pitched. "Hello, is anyone there?" Her plea was met with silence, beyond the echoing of her words. For several seconds silence reigned, only broken by her rapid breathing, her breasts rising and falling as she struggled to control herself. She opened her mouth to cry out - possibly scream out - again when another voiced pierced the air.

"At last. I had feared for a moment that the amnesia drink had destroyed your mind completely. I am glad it apparently hasn't."

A figure stepped out from one side of the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind them. The figure was dressed in robes, a hood concealing his face. He stepped forward, pausing just in front of Sophie to pick up the minuscule bottle.

"Yes, four drops seems to have done the job. Your name, girl?"

"My... my name?" said Sophie, momentarily lost. "I can't really -"

"Good," said the figure, nodding to themselves, looking back to the bottle. "You cannot remember even a basic, ingrained thing such as your name. I very much doubt that you can -"

"I - I think it's Sophie," Sophie said, cutting across the person before her. The figure looked up from the bottle. Though Sophie couldn't see their face, she could tell they were amused.

"Sophie, hmm?" He chuckled. "I suppose you can keep that name. I rather like it. Everything else though, that is left for me to sculpt, to mould into what I desire, not what you want. A blank slate, so to speak. Your dreams are gone, your past is erased. Ahh Sophie..." He reached out a hand, gently stroking her head. Sophie tried to twist away, but the gesture was useless. "If you only knew what the future has in store for you..."






So, this is my intro to a story I'd very much like to play, with me taking the role of the imprisoned captive, Sophie (or, if you wish, a male prisoner). If this is a story you'd like to be part of drop me a PM. I'm happy for either a guy or gal to take the role of her captor, so long as they're comfortable playing the Dominant (either sex).  Also note, this would be the only time I put words in your mouth! I look forward to hearing from you!

Much love x

Númenor

Summer!  :D  I didn't have much time for this the last few months, but now... If you're interested, drop me a PM to discuss more  :-)

Much love x