By socalbd

I’m not sure how long I slept. When I woke up it was still pitch black in the cell. I maneuvered myself onto my knees, wrists of course were still cuffed behind my back, and worked myself to what I thought was the center of the cell. I just knelt there and waited. I wasn’t sure exactly what else to do. In my mind I wanted to please John. The handcuffs were the only restraints I was wearing so I had complete movement within the cell. I could get up and walk around but to be completely submitted in my head meant waiting.

And the waiting should be in a manner befitting the station I was being trained to be… a bondage slave. Waiting, therefore, meant on knees, facing the door, head bowed, knees apart until John, my master, returned. This would be an appropriate position to be found in.

It was difficult to maintain this position. The cold, hard concrete floor was uncomfortable and painful to stay kneeling on without any padding between my knees and the floor. But such was the position of a bondage slave I kept telling myself.

I voluntarily came here again to be tormented, tied and tortured to a degree. I asked to be trained further to be able to take 10 days of detention in the future, whatever that was going to mean. I voluntarily offered information that I was off for a four day weekend. I voluntarily offered to stay throughout that weekend. I voluntarily asked to be broken…multiple times… to understand and be trained to complete submission to John. John accepted all of these offers. And when he did he took away my ability to get out, to leave, to stop what was happening and to endure whatever he had planned. No safe words. No early exit. No idea what time it was. No say in what should happen. I was now submitting – completely.

Being on my knees, waiting, hurting, and enduring was part of the submission I needed to experience.

The door finally opened and I was happy that I was still kneeling there. There was a sense of accomplishment.

Again, the only light was from the dungeon space spilling in to the cell. John didn’t turn on the cell light. This time though it wasn’t just John standing in the cell doorway. Dan was with him, too. Both of them were wearing camo pants, shiny black boots and were shirtless. Dan was hot! He looked amazing. John looked pretty damn good, too. I had some attraction to Dan that I couldn’t explain.

When they finally moved it was to come fully into the cell and immediately they grabbed me and pulled me up and then sat me down on the ground hard so I was on my butt. They were moving quickly. There were no verbal instructions to me. There was no verbal communication with me of any sort. They were on a mission.

I hadn’t realized they were carrying belts with them when they entered. They had moved in so fast and let them fall to the ground I hadn’t noticed them as they were concentrated on man-handling me. This was a different experience. Their demeanor was rough, hard and with purpose. John was behind me and as soon as my butt hit the floor he leaned into my back forcing me to bend forward slightly. He took his arms and wrapped them around my chest area and held me firm.

Dan took a belt and quickly pulled my ankles together and used the belt to make several laps around the ankles and then secured the belt tightly. He then took a second belt and did the same thing just below my knees.

He then stepped in front of me and forcibly bent my knees into my chest and used a third belt to pull my ankles into the tops of my thighs and pulled hard to bend them and secured off that belt.

Then I felt John slightly let go of me. Just as quickly though a much longer belt was being taken from overhead, put down near the calves and used to pull my legs into my chest as the belt wound around my back just underneath my arms so the belt was tight against the back. I was being pulled into a very tight sitting position. Dan used his strength to push my knees into my chest while Dan tightened the belt around my back.

Next, a final belt was used to go around my mid-section in front and over my handcuffed wrists in the back. It was pulled to tighten just so to keep the wrists at mid back.

I have never been tied so tight. It was difficult to breathe with my knees pulled into my chest.

I looked up at Dan and John with pleading eyes. I got nothing back from them.

They left the cell for a moment. When they returned they had lengths of chain. They each took an arm and pulled the chain under and around a bicep and padlocked it there. Then the remaining length was pulled to a corner of the cell behind me and padlocked off nice and tight. The final two lengths of chain were attached to the bicep chains and padlocked on then straightened out to opposite corners in front of me. This made sure I couldn’t move from the position I was in. I was unable to roll to any side or leave the exact spot I was placed. Just for insurance, I fifth chain was padlocked around the ankles and pulled very short to the attachment point in the floor directly in front of me.

I started to breathe heavily. I knew not to say anything to them. This was going to be hell. I looked at each of them in the eyes pleading with them. Their cold stares back at me told me all I needed to know.

They nodded to each other and walked out.

A moment later they returned. John went around behind me carrying something and Dan knelt down in front of me. He took my head in his hands and roughly held it tight looking forward. From behind John started to pull a head harness on me. As the mouth piece came around the front it had been fitted with a penis gag which Dan pushed hard into my mouth filling it. John worked quickly to secure the harness on me.

Dan left and came back with a stool and chain. Seriously, more chain, I thought.

Dan got up on the stool next to me and took the chain towards the ceiling. The chain was secured above my head and then floated down to the harness. I felt a padlock grab the D ring on the top of the harness and it was pulled upward taking my head with it. The click told me what I needed to know. My head was behind held upright in posture.

Dan got down, grabbed the stool and took it out of the cell. John moved around to the front of me as Dan returned. They both bent at the knees to get to eye level with me.

Dan spoke.

“John called and let me know you were here for a few extra days. He also told me he had a slave that needed to be broken – several times.” Dan let the “several times” comment hang in the air as he said it. The way they both looked at me was hot! They were all business. It was also scary because I knew they knew what they were doing. They were calculating and cautious, experienced and were not going to give in to any begging or pleading. Their experience told them how far they could go with me – with any sub – and take that slave all the way to the submission they were going to demand.

Dan continued, “The position you are in is meant for military prisoners that are being interrogated. Already your breathing is labored. The body will quickly be in pain, aching from the very tight compression the slave has been placed in. No harm, but plenty of pain it will endure. With a military prisoner the expectation is information to get release. But you are a slave to be taught submission. Therefore, there will be no release. There’s no need to hear anything from you other than the screams that will come from behind that muzzle. Be careful what you wish for.”

“Remember,” John interjected, “complete submission is expected. The slave asked to be broken several times. This will be number two. Our goal is to make sure it takes a while to get there and then leave you here after you pass that point.” He then leaned in very close to me so our eyes were in complete sync. “I always make the goal,” he said coldly to me.

With that they stood up and walked out of the cell. I heard the hose going for a while as the door was still open. They walked back in carrying buckets and poured the cold water over my head completely soaking me. It was cold and I shivered.

When they walked out they closed the cell door plunging me into darkness again. Cold, wet, and in a very tight compression position I started to think about what I had gotten myself in to. These situations were meant to break men better, stronger, harder than me. Yet, here I was willingly, pleading in a way, to be subjected to this kind of torture. Why?

It didn’t matter in the moment. The pain always brings the subject back to the moment at hand. This was no different. The position, the compression, was starting to take its toll on me. But I knew with these two men this would not be a short duration torture. They meant to take their time with these positions. The bondage was meant to work slowly, insidiously, to break the will ever so slowly that one thinks they can continue. The slave believes it can take more. It works. I offered myself for the four day weekend knowing this would be the case.

What was this need I have? Why would I subject myself to this?

The scream was loud and it echoed in the cell. Complete submission was requested. Breaking was requested. The slave was getting it… in full.

 

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Metal would like to thank the author, socalbd, for this story!