By boyryan54

I woke up to a blinding white light. I whimpered, confused.

Not that anyone could hear me in the soundproof box my MASTER regularly keeps me in. I don’t know how long I have been in the box this time, but it doesn’t seem like too much time has passed. The lack of stimulation makes it hard to know the passage of time, or even if I am wake or asleep sometimes. I have grown used to the feeling of the tight rubber catsuit on my body, the steel chastity locked on with the embedded electro, a soft current to keep it stimulated, which is painful around the catheter, and the usual lack of sound and sight. The straps holding me down into the padded bottom seemed tighter this time though. I know from past punishment training that isn’t a good sign. I also know that when there is light in the box, this will be a rough teaching moment for it. MASTER only uses the display embedded into the top of the box when he wants to send a clear message to me.

I start to wonder when MASTER had opened the box to tighten the straps, and how long I must have been knocked out for. He must have drugged the liquid that he will feed through the tube gag. I begin to whimper again and get a little panicky.

“Are you wake, my rubber slave?”

The embedded speakers and microphones must have been activated. I whimper against and try fighting the straps.

“Ah. Sounds like you are! I wanted to treat you to a special gift to celebrate our one-year anniversary, slave! Look where I am!”

The screen changes from white to a view of what looks like a fetish fair. I see people in gear, laughing, drinking, having a wonderful time with each other. Did MASTER say a year? This must be Folsom, when I first met him!

“I am at Folsom, slave! One year ago today, you were my gimp for the day, remember?”

My heart sank. I do remember that day. I had been in regular contact with a stern Dom who lived in Germany. We had started talking about Dom/sub dynamics, rubber, bondage, gimp trainings, etc. Over time we got closer, and we started talking more about my personal life and interests. Really felt a wonderful connection. I had decided I wanted to go to Folsom in Berlin, meet him, and be his leashed gimp at the fair. I was so excited and happy to meet him. I didn’t realize the trap I was falling into.

“Look at all these wonderful and free people, slave! Say hello everyone! My slave couldn’t join this year. Let’s show him what he is missing!” MASTER yelled to the crowd.

They were waving into the camera, some making faces. They had no clue who was watching on the other side, and how dark he was compared to the jovial MASTER he socially appears as.

I watched the screen as he continued walking around the fair.

“Can you remember what freedom feels like, slave?” He said in a lower voice that I could barely hear over the loud crowds and music.

I whimpered again.

“Good slave. I thought you could use a reminder of what you used to be. What you took for granted, and what I took from you.”

And he did. I was never released after that trip. He made sure of that. Still not sure how he covered his tracks so well. My hope in rescue is gone.

“Ah! Look! It’s MASTER Peter!”

I saw a fully leathered MASTER appear on the screen.

“Hello MASTER Peter!! Say hello to my slave! He is at home watching this livestream.”

“Hello pathetic slave! My boots are getting very dusty here. Can’t wait to have to clean them again soon! Are you hungry for them slave?” MASTER Peter asked.

I whimpered.

“I didn’t hear an answer, slave,” my MASTER replied.

I felt a surge of electricity through my balls, and screamed.

“He says yes, MASTER Peter!” My MASTER replied.

“Good slave,” MASTER Peter responded.

I watched MASTER Peter pass my MASTER a beer, and the speakers went out. But I could still watch from my MASTERs point of view as I saw my MASTERs arm lift up a glass now and then, or saw the smiling face of MASTER Peter.

MASTER Peter was the one who pretended to be my Driver from the hotel to the fair that day. My MASTER had arranged a car to pick me up from the hotel and take me to the fair to get ready. I am still confused how no one had traced the car. But I know now that my MASTER has the right connections. I had thought MASTER Peter was just a driver, until a month after my enslavement, he came to my MASTERs house for a scene.

Another surge and a scream. The speakers came back.

“Still paying attention slave? Pity you couldn’t hear about our party tonight,” my MASTER said.

“Excited to see you this evening, slave! I have a few others who are interested in meeting you, and to hear of how you came to be owned,” MASTER Peters said.

“They are special guests who want to help celebrate, before your next modification procedure, slave,” my MASTER added.

I started yelling and whimpering.

“Good slave. Fight it now and tire yourself out now. Will make things easier tonight with the group,” MASTER said.

Speakers went dead again. I tried thrashing to try and break free, but I know it was pointless. My MASTER has done too good a job and wasn’t going to be careless. In the entire year, I was always in some form of bondage while I was awake. God knows what happens when he makes me pass out from drugs. All I know in my waking hours are bondage and control, and use by MASTER and His special friends. I started to get panicky remembering the last time he had a group over, when MASTER had me tightly stretched out and tattooed. He had made sure if I ever somehow did escape, there would be no way to return to normal society with what has been tattooed on my forehead and body.

I tried closing my eyes. I prayed to pass out again, but no. Any time I opened my eyes, I would see MASTER talking with someone else, or drinking a beer. Sometimes just walking around the street, taking it all in. This seemed to go on for hours, periodic surges in electricity to ensure I didn’t drift off again. Finally…

“Paying attention slave?”

I yelled again. Another surge of electricity ran through my balls.

“Good slave. Pay attention to the screen.”

I watched as my MASTER turned, and there was a group of three other MASTERs at a table. There was MASTER Peter, MASTER Frank, and MASTER John. They waved over and called to my MASTER to join them. As my MASTER got closer, I noticed a black box on the table with a bow on it.

“Hello Walter! Peter was just showing us the present for your slave for tonight. No doubt you will be pleased with it too!,” MASTER Frank said.

“What time should we be over,” John asked?

“Come at 10!” I heard my MASTER say. “And hey! See this camera here? Slave is watching from his box right now!”

“Really?” MASTER Frank said. “Showing him what he is missing? That’s quite evil”

“What can I say. I didn’t want him to miss out!” MASTER said.

“Well,” said MASTER Peter, “since the present is here now, and he is watching. It couldn’t hurt to open it for him, would it?”

“I guess not! Why don’t we open this gift up since he is watching,” MASTER said.

I stared at the screen, heart racing, as MASTER opened the lid of the black box. Then MASTER tiled the box a bit so I could see what was inside.

A low guttural yell came from my body as I was shown a box with some surgical tools and needles all nicely packaged.

“See you soon slave,” my MASTER said.

And everything went black and quiet.