A sudden jolt went through Fabiola, and she started awake with a gurgle, momentarily forgetting the ball gag in her mouth and almost choking on the buildup of saliva. Blinking blearily, she realised she’d dozed off - and that she’d been woken by the car coming to an abrupt halt. She tensed with anticipation. Any moment now, James would get her out - and the fun would really begin.

Sure enough, the lid of the trunk suddenly swung open, the switch from total darkness to intense sunlight making her gasp and squeeze her eyes shut, pressing her face into the sodden polyester below her. Before she had time to adjust, James took hold of her again and hefted her out into the open air. The brilliant white of her surroundings gradually resolved, revealing an array of trees around them. They were in a forest, parked on the side of a road that cut through its midst. Without hesitation, James strolled into the woods, carrying Fabi with him.

Aside from the slight dizziness as she swung gently in her supposed captor’s arms, the trek was actually rather relaxing. There were none of the sounds of civilisation she was used to, no traffic or people or anything like that - just the sounds of birds, and tree branches rustling, and leaves crunching under James’ feet. Of all the places for him to spirit her away to, this was pretty much ideal. Beats a dark and scary dungeon, anyway, she thought.

Periodically, he set her down on the forest floor and got out his phone, murmuring to himself too quietly for her to hear as he seemingly consulted a map. It appeared they weren’t just wandering through the woods - James had a particular destination in mind, and needed to check they were on course. He was none too careful about where he put Fabi, dumping her on dusty ground or squishy mud. Her naked body grew increasingly dirty, her skin earning scratches from stray twigs.

“OK, I think this is the spot,” he said at last, unceremoniously dropping Fabi in a shallow ditch in the shade of a thick oak tree. “Looks the way they described,” he mused aloud, looking around as he took his phone out again. “And... yeah, it matches the co-ordinates they gave me.”

Wriggling in the dirt below, Fabi gazed up at him in confusion. Who’s ‘they’...?

“Ah, yeah, I should’ve mentioned earlier,” James said with a cold smile. He lowered himself to the ground, propping himself against the nearby tree, and stared down at his bound friend. “Y’know that little photoshoot we did a few weeks back, when you were my mind-controlled slavegirl? Well, I sent the photos to some guys I know, and they liked them a lot. You see, they’re always on the lookout for sexy ladies like yourself to snatch up, and ship away, and sell off to grateful new owners...”

Her eyes widened as his words sunk in, and she began to struggle against her bonds with renewed vigour, frantically fighting to get free. Or at least, she acted like it. Internally, she was as unbothered as ever, convinced there was no real danger, merely appreciative of the dark new element James had added to the prank. So now I’m getting sex trafficked? Wow, that’s a fun twist...!

Reaching down towards her, James laid his hand on Fabi’s head, caressing it fondly as if she were a puppy. “I could just keep you,” he commented as his hand moved to pinch her nostrils shut, a cruel grin on his face as she struggled to breathe around her gag. “I could spend a lifetime experimenting on you, tormenting you, humiliating you in every conceivable way.”

Letting go of her nose, he seized her hair, grasping it tightly, his face hardening. “But it’s not worth the anger I feel any time I look at you. It’s not worth the memory of you rejecting me - fucking laughing at me,” he spat. “I don’t wanna see you any more.” He pushed her face down into the ground, rubbing it in the dirt, squishing her nose and forcing her to shut her eyes tight. “So I’m not going to, ever again. And neither will anyone else we know. I’m taking out the trash. Leaving it to be picked up, and taken away.”

Standing up, he gave her a light kick in the butt. “Besides, I don’t need you. Let some rich dipshit spend a fortune to get hold of your worthless ass. With my new skills, I’ll have sluts to spare - and I won’t have to pay a thing.”

Fabi managed to turn her head far enough to look up at him, whimpering plaintively, her eyes wide with feigned terror and desperation. He merely smirked, taking one last long look at her nude body, belying his own words about not wanting to see any more of her. “They’ll be along to pick you up soon, so... don’t go anywhere!” He laughed maliciously. “Enjoy your new life, Trash.”

And with that, he strolled away. He was gone from Fabi’s sight within moments, and less than a minute later the sound of his footsteps faded away completely.

And with it, the mournful pleading sounds Fabi was making through the blockage in her mouth. There was no need to keep up the act now James wasn’t around. She let herself relax, her body going slack in her restraints, her filthy face resting on the ground again.

There was nothing to do now, but wait for whoever was coming to pick her up (probably literally, unless they untied her). James said they were traffickers, but obviously that wasn’t true. They’d just be some friends of his that he’d roped into the ruse.

‘Roped’. She gave a little gurgling guffaw around her gag. Nice word choice, Fabi.

Settled into the ditch as comfortably as she could be, Fabiola waited patiently for her supposed captors to arrive, gazing into space and absently sucking on the rubber orb in her mouth. She eventually managed to work it loose, her saliva making it increasingly slippery until it slid free of her jaw and down her chin. That was useful, she supposed. She wasn’t planning to call for help, and it was unlikely there was anyone nearby anyway. But there was always a slim chance that someone could find her - not the supposed sex traffickers, but a genuinely innocent bystander who might think she actually was being kidnapped. She’d need to tell them that she was there of her own volition, that she was completely safe and had friends coming to collect her, and to just leave and not worry about her. She hoped that’d be enough to persuade them.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry. After what felt like an age, by which time her contorted limbs were really starting to ache, two burly men in their forties - one bald, the other with a thick head of brown hair - found her. From their satisfied smiles, it was clear they’d been expecting to find her. She made an effort to look compliant and tremulous again, slipping back into her role as the frightened kidnap victim.

The guy with the hair knelt down next to her and began roughly feeling her up, in what felt more like an inspection than anything else. He checked her over efficiently, rolling her on her side to study her torso and grope her tits, dispassionately probing her pussy, and then plopping her back down on her front, parting her buttocks so his indelicate digits could similarly explore her anus. Cleaning off his fingertips on her tongue, he then slotted the ball gag back into her weary jaw. Rising to his feet, he placed his boot on the back of her head and lightly ground her face into the dirt.

The whole time, neither of them spoke directly to her. They talked to each other about her, mostly commenting on how hot she was. The bald man noted that the photos James sent them didn’t do her justice, while the hairy guy said he expected she’d fetch a decent price. Fabi quivered outwardly and preened inwardly, strangely pleased by their compliments. If I was actually being trafficked, this’d be really scary, she mused, but since I’m not, it’s kinda nice they think I’m sexy...

Together, the two of them carried her to a nondescript white van and stowed her in the back. She was grateful for the wider, more well-lit space for a moment, until they shoved a pillowcase over her head. Immersed in darkness once more, she went limp on the hard floor of the van and let it carry her to another unknown destination.

***

The supposed traffickers’ hideout was an ordinary house, albeit a rather dingy one, with shabby wallpaper, grubby carpets, and grimy linoleum floors. Though she never got to see the exterior, Fabiola assumed it looked similarly unkempt - peeling paint and overgrown hedges sprang to mind. She supposed that was a way to deter unwanted visitors, who might just assume the building was uninhabited. No-one would choose to live in such a place, surely, and if anyone did, they’d make an effort to clean it up. Not that that was much of an issue - she was told they were deep in the countryside, with no neighbouring houses for miles in each direction. Whether that was true, she never knew for sure, but all she could see out of the windows were fields and trees in every direction.

Her ‘captors’ soon identified themselves, the bald man as Herm and the brown-haired guy as Arnie. And for scary evil sex traffickers, they were surprisingly laidback. True, they warned her that any disobedience or attempts to escape would meet with harsh punishment, but they seemed pretty confident she wouldn’t try anything. Which, of course, she wouldn’t - she knew her character, Fictional Fabi the Kidnap Victim, was meant to have been terrified to the point of utter submission, her will and resolve broken. So she supposed they could afford to be laidback.

There was always at least one of them in the house, and always at least one of them in her immediate vicinity throughout the day, keeping her in their field of vision even if they weren’t actively watching her. (Arnie habitually scrolled through his phone, while Herm preferred to read books and newspapers.) That was all they did for most of the day. They would manhandle her whenever they wanted or needed to, using her hair as a leash, gripping and dragging her by the throat, or grabbing or smacking her ass to propel her forwards. But for the majority of the day they let her have the run of the house (as long as she remained indoors) and entertain herself.

Not that they gave her much in the way of entertainment. There was no TV, she didn’t have access to a phone (obviously), and Herm even refused to loan her a book when she timidly asked. “Wouldn’t expect to do much reading where you’re goin’, sugar tits,” he snickered.

They did, however, provide several sex toys, ‘for practice’, they said. It was important to train her holes for her future owner, apparently. The two men insisted she spend time masturbating with at least one of the selection of dildos each day. Which orifice she used them in was usually up to her, though they encouraged her to train all three roughly equally. They routinely fingered her ass, her cunt and her throat (usually in that order), to ‘check her progress’. And to get used to ‘making her holes accessible at all times’, they required her to wear open-mouth gags and butt plugs for periods of the day, and even cuffed a spreader bar to her ankles from time to time, forcing her to hobble around the house.

Fabi complied dutifully with whatever Herm and Arnie said, no matter how ridiculous or humiliating, not daring to question them, keeping up the façade of scared submission. The day after her arrival at the house, once she’d washed off the forest muck in the shower, they took a series of photos of her from every angle while she posed as directed, much like the impromptu shoot she and James did on the night she’d played his brainwashed slave. For several of these shots, though, they made her hold up a piece of paper on which they’d written her height, weight and measurements, as well as her age (though they claimed she was 21 rather than 25). They didn’t include her name. When she dared to ask why, Herm shrugged and said, “Buyer might pick you a new one.”

They fed her a diet that consisted almost entirely of gruel - heaps of slimy rice floating in watery milk, which she had to eat from a bucket, either by tilting it and slurping from the edges, or by scooping it up with her bare hands. This was one instance where she didn’t have to act her displeasure - it was truly gross. Not only was the consistency repulsive, but it had a sour, tangy flavour that lingered long on her tongue. Arnie tauntingly told her they pissed in it a little, although Fabi presumed that was untrue - they probably just mixed something in to simulate the flavour. Now that was attention to detail. Nonetheless, she ate each bucketful of slop, quickly realising she’d get nothing else. Sometimes they treated her to some fruit and vegetables - mushy tomatoes, a few stray apple slices, or a big crunchy lettuce leaf plonked on top of the mound of greyish paste.

They never provided her with new clothes. She’d remained naked since the moment she arrived, fully exposed and vulnerable at all times. Again, Herm recommended she get used to that. Their constant surveillance extended to her use of the bathroom - they did not let her close the door while she showered or used the toilet, although she rarely caught them actually watching her. If anything, they seemed bored by her. (They were embodying the roles of jaded kidnappers, she assumed, unimpressed by the sight of yet another naked woman in their clutches.)

Her ‘bedroom’ was on the ground floor, and looked like it was once a utility room, though it now lacked the usual amenities like a laundry machine or a dishwasher. Instead all it contained was a large burlap sack in the corner, which turned out to be her bed. Each night, Fabi crawled into the big brown bag and enclosed herself up to her feet, the material scratching at her skin. Herm and Arnie would turn off the light and lock her in the room, leaving her lying on the hard lino, struggling to get just comfortable enough to fall asleep, her itchy ersatz duvet and her aching holes keeping her awake for hours on end.

She was, frankly, awestruck. The setting, the house she was being kept in, had been put together so well. It was as if she really were being held prisoner by sex traffickers, in some dirty hovel in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t commend James and his friends highly enough for the effort they’d gone to, to make this prank as true to life as they could.

As the weeks wore on, Fabiola settled into a routine, meagre though it was with her limited pastime options. It surprised her how much she adjusted to. She got used to sitting around on coarse carpet all day long, staring into space, waiting for the day to pass her by. She got used to never wearing clothes. She got used to sleeping in an itchy burlap sack. She got used to eating urine-flavoured mush out of a bucket. She got used to her naked body being visible to at least one person at all times, even while she was peeing. She got used to keeping her mouth and her legs slightly open at all times, even when not wearing a gag or a spreader bar. She got used to training her holes several times a day - to the point where she started doing two of them, or even all three of them, at once, just to be sure she was ready if they were all used at the same time.

Just as she felt she’d fully acclimatised to her current circumstances, Arnie announced they had a buyer, who’d made a single stipulation in exchange for the sale - he wanted her to be easier to ‘customise’. The next thing she knew, the two men were sitting her on the edge of the bathtub, the porcelain hard against her bare butt, and shaving her long, lustrous brown hair all the way down to the scalp. She shuddered and snivelled as huge brown clumps fell down her torso, tickling her skin. Arnie even spat on a handful and stuck it to her face, shaping the severed strands into a goatee, as he laughed cruelly. Herm, not having a lot of time for his colleague’s antics, hosed Fabi down with the shower, washing off the fake beard and the rest of the stray hairs.

They took more photos of her afterwards, first with her newly bald head, and then wearing a variety of different wigs, whose only shared attribute was their unrealistic colours - pale pink, magenta, neon blue, emerald green. Apparently, this was what their client had in mind for her once he had her to himself. Fabi wondered what this was supposed to indicate about the obviously made-up customer. Was he meant to have a wig kink, or something? Did he want to turn her into an anime girl?

She didn’t know, but she was interested to see where the scenario would go - assuming James didn’t come to collect her before they reached that part of the story. He had to at some point. She knew he could let his pranks play out for a long time - Mika and Kyla were evidence of that - but they had to end eventually. She just wasn’t sure when. She could really do with going back to sleeping in her own bed, to be honest. Now that she didn’t even have her own hair as a cushion, she had to spend each night with her bare head on linoleum, making it even harder to sleep.

That only lasted a few days, though. Finally, Herm showed up in a pickup truck with a large wooden crate on the back, which he and Arnie carried inside. “Time to ship you off to your new home,” he told Fabi, as she gave the box an apprehensive look. It was about a quarter-filled with packing peanuts, so at least she’d be partly cushioned, and there were sizeable air holes in each side. It’d be an uncomfortable journey, but not an intolerable one.

“Gotta make sure we don’t damage the merchandise,” Arnie snickered as he noticed her appraisal. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there in one piece. Our buyer’s really lookin’ forward to gettin’ his hands on you...”

The words sent a flicker of real fear through Fabi, at the thought of being taken to parts unknown and left in the company of yet another complete stranger, who would have full freedom to use and abuse her however he wished. Then she remembered - it was all just a prank. Herm and Arnie were just friends of James, taking her to another friend of James, who was just playing another character in the grand charade James had designed. She was meant to act afraid, but she didn’t have to be afraid for real. She’d be alright. She was totally safe. Everything was fine.

She just had to play along.

So she let the two men lift her over the side of the crate and deposit her in the soft pile of packing peanuts, and then screw the lid on top with an electric drill. She felt her container being lifted, carried, and set down on the back of the truck, where her ‘captors’ secured it in place with a number of bungee cords. Nestling amidst the polystyrene blobs as she felt the vehicle start up, she laid back and began absently running her palm over her shaved scalp, daydreaming about what might happen in the next part of the prank, and what might be expected of her...