#surveillance.

forced to edge or cum a certain number of times per day, per the orders of your kidnapper. they require photo or video evidence. they say this is to keep you enriched, as you’re stuck at the house. but really they want to be able to sink into your soaked holes as soon as they get back home

discovering your kidnappers stash of porn—endless photos and videos of you in different scenarios. dressed up in outfits for them, half undressed with ripped clothes hanging off you. rows and rows of pictures of you in costumes for them— a maid, a bunny, a librarian, a fairy, a princess, the list goes on. they have clips of you, clearly sleeping, with their fingers or cock inside you or shots where they just came on your face. imagine your horror, not just at the constant surveillance, but your own reaction. feeling yourself get hot and wet looking at your own humiliation and degradation laid before you, unable to deny how turned on you are

nudes but you took them from outside my window

your kidnapper’s home is full of really lovely photography, studies of landscape and architecture that are really quite beautiful to behold. it’s not until you recognize something in one that you realize with a start that you are in the distant background of every. single. one.