By Mister-X / Spartan

It wasn’t going to be easy. I had checked out the guy’s house the day before, ostensibly as a city worker. I had the right credentials for it, arranged by my friend whose photo I was going to retrieve, dressed and acted the part. My friend worked for the city in a pretty high position, and was being blackmailed by this guy. My friend knew that I had done some covert work when I was in the military, having broken into houses before to retrieve information that we needed. I’d never been caught at it because I tried to be as thorough as possible in my preliminary work. That’s always the key to being successful.

I’d noticed the alarm system he had. It was a good one. I figured that anyone who did what this guy did would have to have a good alarm system. I had checked out the locks on his doors. They were state-of-the-art, almost impossible to pick. I checked the windows to see if I could get any leverage there. No luck there, either. But I knew that the guy employed servants. They were never as thorough as their employer, and I had often found the crack I needed at their area.

This time was no different. The servants left the window open a crack to be able to get some air in their otherwise stuffy area. I would return later that night when I knew the guy was going to be out. I needed to de-activate the alarm system, and knew enough about those systems to be able to do that. That left the problem of where he kept the damaging photos. In my checking of the house I had found what I thought had to be the place where he kept them. I didn’t know for sure, and had noticed some possible secondary places, but that was the one I would focus my attention on.

I waited outside, hidden, wearing black clothes, including a black balaclava over my head. I’d kept these clothes from my days in the military, since they were mine and didn’t belong to the military, being the ones that I’d always worn for my successful break-ins. I saw a car leave the house, the one that I knew he always drove, and waited a few more minutes before starting my entrance.

I first disabled the security system. This was done by cutting the power to the sensors in the house. There were still cameras that were operated off a different power source. I knew the locations of these, and made sure to avoid being seen by them when inside. The security people would be monitoring those cameras, but not the sensors.

I checked the window in the back, and found it opened a crack as usual. It was a simple window, one that you could push down further by just pushing on the top. Easy as pie. I jumped in through the window. I was in. I first waited a couple of minutes, ears highly attuned to any sounds. I knew that the guy had no pets, so wasn’t expecting any surprises from animals.

Hearing no sounds, I stealthily went to the room that had the place I expected to find the incriminating photos. Part of what drew me to this place was because there was no security camera focused on it. I figured the guy wouldn’t want the security people to be seeing what he was doing there. I had a little flashlight with me, and made sure to only use it when absolutely necessary, keeping as little light in the area for people outside to see. My rubber soled shoes made no noise as I walked to the room on that thick carpet.

I finally got to the locked cabinet that I thought the photos would be in. I got out my lock picks, getting ready to pick the lock. I figured I could chance putting the light on the locked cabinet, since there were no windows in this room. But that’s when I saw that something was wrong. Setting on top of the cabinet was a pair of handcuffs.

Suddenly the light went on and a voice came from behind me as I heard the click of a trigger lock. “I have a gun pointed at you and I have no qualms about using it. You have broken into my home, and I have the right to shoot you. If you don’t want to be shot, put those handcuffs on your wrists behind your back and remain facing that direction.”

I had been too late in reacting. Knowing what I knew about this guy, I had no doubts he was telling the truth. I was sweating. I froze, but knew that the time to react was past. I picked up the handcuffs, ratcheted one side on my wrist behind my back, as I made like I was doing the same to the other side.

“Nice try, but you haven’t got them on that other wrist yet. I’m waiting, but I have little patience. I will count to three. If you don’t have that other side ratcheted on when I get to three, I will shoot. One, two —”

I quickly ratcheted the other side on.

“Good. I realized when you were here that you could have been searching for a way in. You were very cautious and careful. Very few city employees are. So I called to verify your employment with the city and found that you were not on their records. That was a grave mistake for someone who was otherwise so careful. I’m sure you must realize that I also am a careful man. You are not the first to try to break into my house to try to retrieve some of my source of income. I have had to prepare my house for such unexpected guests. I will direct you where to go to get to my guest room. I will be behind you all the time, my gun at the ready. Now start walking out the way you came in.”

I was looking for opportunities to get away from him, but I only walked a few feet out of the room before he had me stop. From behind me he unlocked what I had thought was a storage room, backed up as he told me to do, and told me to enter. It was a stairway leading down. He kept out of the way of the door, so I couldn’t use that to hit him. This guy was good. He knew all the tricks.

I quickly ran down the stairs, but he was expecting that, and quickly ran down as well, keeping up with me. He stayed a few steps up from me, and told me to turn to the right. There was a noose hanging there at the height of my head. He told me to put my head in it and to keep walking. I hesitated. I felt the gun now in my back as he pushed me forward with my head going straight into it. The force of this caused me to go forward the few steps necessary for it to tighten around my neck. He stepped back and walked back up the stairs to close the door we had descended. I wasn’t choking, but that noose restricted me to a small area, and with my hands cuffed behind my back, I couldn’t reach it. I admired his ingenuity in getting me confined to this small area.

I finally decided to speak. I figured someone this ingenious had to have a very large ego, and I decided to appeal to it. “Very clever, Hans. Now what are you going to do to me?”

“I see you know my name but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.”

I just kept quiet. I didn’t bring any identification with me, didn’t drive but took public transportation. I’ve done this before, after all.

After waiting for a response he didn’t get, he said, “I see. Well, Mister-X, if I can so call you, I need to prepare you for your stay here as my guest. I will also need to find out who among my many clients sent you.”

“And how will you do that, since I have no intention of telling you that information?”

“I have my ways. Everyone always talks eventually. Everyone has a vulnerability of some kind. I will enjoy finding yours so I can get you to divulge that information.” He said that so confidently and matter-of-factly that it sent chills down my spine.

I heard him go further into this underground room, stepping around me with the gun pointed at me all the time. I heard the click of a metal door, and the groaning sound of it being opened. I also heard a moan come from another part of the room. We weren’t alone down here. That also sent chills up my spine.

Hans returned and got behind me again, always with the gun pointed at me, always with his finger on the trigger. Suddenly I felt a pinprick on my arm. I swung away from it, but again, I was too late. It only took a few seconds for me to pass out.

I awoke. My head was hurting, and I felt sick. I didn’t know where I was. I tried to move my arms, and found that they were hugging my body in front of me, unable to move. I tried to look down to see what was causing the problem, and found that I couldn’t look down, that something hard was forcing my head up. I tried getting up, by couldn’t do that either. My ankles were forced together by something hard. I looked around and found that I was inside a jail cell of some kind, since there were bars around me. I was lying on the floor.

I needed to take a pee. I decided to let out a yell to get someone to get me out of this stuff so I could take a pee, but when I tried to let out a yell, no sound came out. There was something in my mouth preventing that. That’s when I remembered where I was and what had happened.

Feeling with my back on the floor, I realized that there were buckles. I was encased in a straitjacket. But what a straitjacket it was. It seemed to be made out of canvas and leather with a high, hard leather collar forcing my head up. There was no give anywhere. I was tightly contained in this thing. But straitjackets only covered the upper part. I tried separating my legs, and found that I couldn’t. Apparently my lower legs were also entombed in something as well. The only thing I could think of was something called a leather leg binder. I’d been in both a leather straitjacket and leather leg binder before, but that was for leather play with some friends. This was serious business. I was being held captive against my will. It was quiet. The other guy I’d heard moan wasn’t here anymore.

I finally heard some sounds. Soon Hans came into view. “Ah, I see you are awake. I hope you will like my hospitality. Your cock seemed to enjoy it when I started putting suitable clothes on your body for your stay here. That little bit of information will be of use to me.”

I shifted uncomfortably. It looked like the secret I kept from my friends was going to be known by this blackmailer.

“As I’d told you last night, what I need to know from you is which of my clientele had sent you. But please don’t tell me too quickly. That would spoil my fun. I don’t often have the chance to entertain a guest in this room, and I like to prolong my entertainment of them as long as possible.”

I was thinking ‘oh, crap. It sounds like I’m in for it.’

“You probably need to relieve yourself. I’ll get a jar for you to piss in. This will probably be the last time you will do so here on your own. The next few times you will be doing so involuntarily.”

He left, and was soon back. I heard him slide me over to the side of the cell. He started fiddling around with the area around my crotch, and I finally felt my penis get out into the air. Hans started laughing.

“I’d better get an ice cube and a chastity to put on. You’ll never be able to piss with your cock sticking up erect like that.”

Hans was gone again for a couple of minutes, and was back. I suddenly felt something either ice cold or extremely hot hit my cock. I involuntarily shivered from that feeling. Soon my urge to pee was stronger than ever.

“Go ahead and pee. I’ve got the jar positioned for you.”

After I’d finished, I felt something being put on my cock and balls. Following the unmistakable click of a padlock closing, I started feeling sharp pains in that area. As Hans was covering up that area with the clothes he had me in, Hans said, “you won’t like the little prison your jewels are now locked up in.”

He was right. I could feel the spikes digging into my cock and balls. The more I would try to get erect, the more pain I would get. I figured this was just the start of his hospitality.

Soon I felt leather going on over my head. He was putting a leather hood on me. I tried jerking my head away, but he had too strong a hold of it. Again, I was too late. My head was soon entombed in that hood. It only had two pin holes at the nose for breathing. I couldn’t see any more.

I heard the door being opened, or at least a door, since the hinges needed oiling. I felt myself being dragged out along the floor. My legs were locked together in those hard leg binders, and about the only movement I could do was to sit up or move my head. Neither seemed to do much good, so I just went along for the ride.

I finally heard the sound of something being hooked to my ankles. A button was pushed and I started being dragged along the floor again. But this time my body started being lifted into the air, ankles first. I was being raised higher and higher, until my head was finally off the floor. I was hanging upside down.

I felt my cock being brought out to the air again, with something attached to it. My cock was pretty painful, what with that spiked sheath that was locked onto it. Despite that it was still trying to get erect. Finally whatever Hans was putting on it was attached.

Hans said “you’ll find that I like to give pleasure to my guests. This little device will stimulate your cock to get it to erupt. You call it a milking machine. Most milking machines stimulate the sides of the cock. This one stimulates the tip. It feels oh, so pleasurable. Or at least it would if there weren’t those spikes sticking into the sides. Let’s see how you like it. You’ll be stimulated to erupt every hour on the hour. I’ll be back in a few hours to see if you’re ready to tell me who employed you. If not, you will continue to enjoy being stimulated.”

He started up the milking machine. True to his word, it stimulated the tip of my cock. Oh that would have felt wonderful if it weren’t for those damn sharp spikes. How those hurt when I erupted! I must have been screaming my head off into that gag. I heard Hans laughing over to the side before I heard him walking away.

It’s amazing how something so pleasurable could be turned so easily into an instrument of torture. By the time Hans returned in a few hours I was going out of my mind. He removed my hood and gag and told me that all the torture would stop if I just told him the name of the client who had hired me. Despite desperately wanting this to end, I still had enough sanity to tell him that I couldn’t. Hans smiled and said, “Good. I was hoping that you wouldn’t, but I thought I would give you a sporting chance to end my fun.” He was soon gone after my hood and gag were back in place.

Several hours later when he returned I was willing to tell him anything to have that damn machine turned off. After removing my hood and gag, Hans said, “I’ll see if you are ready now. Who employed you?”

I told him. He then asked, “and what is your name?”

I told him. He said, “ah, I’ve heard of you. You have quite a reputation. I’m honored to finally meet you and to have bested you. But I’m afraid that in the past, some of the guys I’ve had here have stretched the truth with me, so I will have to check out your information before I can give you some relief.”

I started screaming as he put my gag back in and left. He kept that damn machine on.

When Hans returned in a couple of hours, he turned the machine off. He removed my gag. I was still suspended upside down. “You have been truthful with me. I’m honor bound to keep my end of the bargain and release you from my unpleasant treatment. I’m afraid your friend that hired you is not pleased that you did not succeed. He now knows that he will be paying a much higher price. But I now have the problem of what to do with you. I can’t very easily just let you go free. I’m afraid the authorities take a dim view of my business practices. So what do you suggest I do?”

After it took me a minute for what he said to sink in, I slowly answered, “I don’t know what to suggest. My brain isn’t functioning very well at the moment.”

“I can fully understand that. I’ll return you to your room to get some rest. Try to come up with a practical solution to our problem. I don’t like impractical ones.”

I found the whole situation bizarre. Here he was asking me what he should do to me, me who he was holding prisoner against my will. What am I supposed to suggest?

It wasn’t until after I’d gotten a good night’s sleep, one which was punctuated by some erotic fantasies that I thought about, when I awakened with my usual morning woodie being accompanied by intense pains from the spikes.

Hans returned with a freshly cooked breakfast, a piss jar, some wash rags and something for me to shit into. He certainly was a mass of contradictions, very civilized on one hand, and very uncivilized on the other. After I’d eaten and had done my usual morning routine, without shaving and showering, Hans asked me if I’d come up with a solution to our mutual problem.

I said, “you must have contacts with the BDSM community. Do you know of anyone who is looking for a slave to keep restrained 24/7?”

“Hmm. An interesting solution. One I should have thought of myself. It is a distinct possibility. I’ll check.”

He left, leaving me still encased as I’d been when I first awakened in this cell, except that I had my gag out.

Hans didn’t return for many hours. When he finally did he was accompanied by another man. I was introduced to ‘Master Bill.’ This guy was dressed all in leathers. He looked pretty rough. He took a good look at me, and started asking me questions, all related to my health. He told Hans to release me from the straitjacket and leather leg binders, leaving me in the cell. When I was released I didn’t smell too good. Master Bill didn’t seem to mind that. He was just interested in what kind of body I had, ordering me to turn around before standing for him to inspect me. It was as if I were an animal being purchased. But then, maybe that’s what I was.

Finally Master Bill said, “okay, Hans. You’ve got a deal. He may not be willing to put up with the way I’ll be treating him, but he will eventually, and I’ll have fun training him. But he’ll have to be well restrained for the transfer.”

Hans replied, “of course. What type of restraints do you wish me to use?”

“Metal.”

“Very well.”

“And well gagged, of course.”

“Of course.”

Soon I found myself in the back of a van, ankles cuffed together, hands cuffed, a chain connecting ankles and hands in a hogtie, two-inch-thick metal collar around my neck, and gagged. Otherwise I was naked. Hans kept the clothes I’d been wearing, so I now had none of my clothes.

The van drove across town and into a garage. Once there, the chain putting me into the hogtie was removed, as well as my ankle cuffs. A chain had been clipped to the front of my collar. I was pulled out of the van by that, like a guy pulling an unwilling horse or steer by a rope. I was pulled into the guy’s house, unwilling to go, down some stairs and through a door into what looked like a dungeon. My collar was turned around and the chain attached to it was attached to a hoist that was raised. I wasn’t choking, but I was going to be kept standing in that spot.

The guy went over to the wall, and I saw that he had an assortment of leather objects that are used for administering beatings. He came back with a whip. He practiced cracking it a few times, aiming for something and hitting it every time, until he looked me square in the eye and said, “it’s time to welcome you to Master Bill’s home.”

He hit me with that whip about five times. Each one stung like hell. I let out a yell into my gag with each one. He finally could see that I had taken about enough, considering the weakened state I was already in, and was ready to collapse. He released the chain and took me over to a small cage. He had me get into it, and locked it afterwards. He left, and returned with a bowl of food and a bowl of water. He removed my gag, and allowed me to eat from the bowls, hands still cuffed behind me.

When I’d finished, he started talking with me.

“How did you happen to become a prisoner in Hans’ home?”

I told him the whole story. His reaction was much more than I had expected. He was really taken aback by it. Then he started laughing. He finally said, “oh, Hans. It’s a good thing you don’t know what I do for a living. It’s a good thing I kept my BDSM life totally separate from my vanilla life.” Then he started laughing again.

He finally saw me looking at him, and decided to tell me. “I’m a police officer. One of my tasks in the past few years was trying to find out who has been blackmailing various important people in this community. We knew it was going on, but we couldn’t get the people to own up to it, since they feared what would happen if the evidence was uncovered. I could never figure out who it could be. I hadn’t even considered Hans. And with Hans selling you to me I now know who is doing it. I’m going to have to figure out how to proceed at this point.”

I was kept in that cage. Periodically Master Bill would come by to feed me and relieve me, but my position remained as it was. I was still his slave, and was periodically beaten, periodically played with, and periodically fucked.

One day after I had finished eating he pulled up a chair and sat down. “We got him, and we got the evidence. Hans is now in jail awaiting trial. There’s no bail. The evidence is being treated very confidentially. There are a lot of important figures in the community who are very nervous right now, hoping that the evidence won’t be coming out at trial. I expect that Hans will be making a plea deal to avoid a trial in exchange for a lighter sentence and suppression of the evidence. I’m sure that is what the result will be.

But you should have seen the look on his face when he saw me in my uniform! Oh how I wish I had a camera to picture that! It was priceless! He realized that, as careful as he had been, he wasn’t careful enough. We all try, but we never completely succeed in being sufficiently careful.”

Master Bill went back upstairs after filling me in on the events. His last sentence reminded me of when I went to Hans’ house to break into it. Yes, we are never completely successful in being sufficiently careful. Sometimes something unexpected will happen to trip us up.

Now both Hans and I are in prison. Hans is in a public prison, and I’m in a private one. The arrest and conviction of Hans hasn’t changed my life. I’m still Master Bill’s slave to keep restrained, beaten periodically, fucked sometimes, played with at times. I thought it strange that this policeman who works to uphold the law saw nothing wrong in breaking it this way. But there’s nothing I can do about changing it. He has been sufficiently careful so far. But one of these days he’ll make a mistake, and this slave will finally be able to be free. After all, Master Bill can’t possibly be the only exception to that statement he’d made.

 

 

Metal would like to thank Mister X for this story!