Chapter 3 The Training Begins

Layla's eyes adjusted slowly to the bright light of the mansion's interior. She had been dragged from the car and thrust into this opulent prison, with no idea what lay ahead. Ryker's voice cut through the fog, his words sharp and commanding. "Follow me, Layla," he growled, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and cruelty. Layla hesitated, her heart racing with fear. But Ryker's grip on her arm was like a vice, and she knew that she had no choice but to obey. He led her through the winding corridors of the mansion, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls.

They finally arrived at a door that looked like it belonged in a medieval dungeon.

Ryker produced a key, unlocking the door with a soft click. "Welcome to your new home, Layla," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You'll be staying here until you've learned to obey me without question.

Layla's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the room. It was small and sparse, with stone walls and a cold, concrete floor. The only furniture was a narrow bed, a small table, and a chair. Ryker's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement as he gestured to the bed. "You'll be sleeping there," he said, his voice low and menacing. "And you'll be eating there." He nodded to the small table, where a tray of food was laid out. Layla's stomach growled at the sight of the food, but she knew that she couldn't give in to her hunger. Not yet, anyway. Ryker's eyes seemed to bore into her soul as he spoke. "You'll be trained to obey me, Layla. You'll learn to do exactly as I say, without question or hesitation. And you'll learn to love it." Layla's heart sank at his words. She knew that she was in grave danger, and that she had to find a way to escape before it was too late. But for now, she was trapped, and she had no choice but to obey Ryker's every command. The days that followed were a blur of pain and humiliation. Ryker was a cruel and merciless man pushing Layla to her limits and beyond. He taught her how to walk on a leash, how to crawl on her hands and knees, and how to perform a variety of degrading and humiliating tasks. Layla hated every minute of it, but she knew that she had no choice. She was a prisoner, a sex slave, and she had to do exactly as Ryker said if she wanted to survive. As the days turned into weeks, Layla began to feel like she was losing herself. She was no longer the strong, confident woman she had once been. She was now a mere shadow of her former self, a broken and submissive sex slave.

But despite her feelings of hopelessness, Layla refused to give up. She knew that she had to find a way to escape, no matter what it took. And so, she began to plot and plan, looking for any opportunity to break free from Ryker's grasp. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to try. As she lay in her bed, staring up at the cold, stone ceiling, Layla felt a spark of determination ignite within her. She would escape, no matter what it took. And she would make sure that Ryker paid for what he had done to her in every way possible. The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins, and Layla felt a sense of hope that she hadn't felt in weeks. She knew that she still had a long way to go, but she was ready for the challenge. And so, with a newfound sense of determination, Layla began to plan her escape. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she was ready to try.

As she drifted off to sleep, she knew that she still had a long way to go, but she was ready for the challenge. And as she slept, Layla's mind was already racing with plans and strategies, her determination to escape burning brighter with every passing moment. But little did Layla know, Ryker had a few tricks up his sleeve, he knew already that his little cunt would try to escape but her escape would not be as easy as she thought. In fact, Ryker had a plan to make sure Layla would never be able to escape, and he Ryker will make sure of that.