By Practicerestraint
The slave woke slowly. It took him a while to get a grasp on his surroundings and circumstances. As his eyes came into focus and his hearing because more acute, he realized he couldn’t talk. His mouth was filled with a penis gag.
“Welcome back, number 502.”
Number 502 recognized the voice of the “doc.” He tried to turn his head in the direction of the voice, but found his head was strapped down. He let out a small cry that came out as a gurgle.
“Try to relax as I explain. Note that this is not a conversation. You’ll learn more about your situation shortly, but for right now you need to know that you are here to play the roles we assign you. Think of yourself as a member of Mr. Crummles’s troupe.”
Number 502’s eyes widened slightly, either from the reference or from the “doc” coming into view.
“Yes, 502, we know about your fondness for Dickens. We know a lot about you. Mostly, we know you like to be controlled and you will fit well into your new occupation.”
The instructions was clear.
