Safe

By boyryan54

Boyryan54I heard some muffled motions upstairs and then heard the heavy steel door unlock. I looked up between the bars of my cell to see one of my Masters quickly coming down the stairs into the dungeon, carrying a box. I quickly knelt to my knees and adopted His preferred position.

“Hello slave. We have to leave quickly, but I am bringing you some supplies. Think of this like one of the times we have left you for a long weekend.”

He proceeded to place the open box up against the bars of my cell, and I felt my heart drop. I hated when my Masters left me alone for days at a time.

“Yes Master,” I replied, eyes cast down, head bowed as far as the high steel collar would allow, glancing at the thick rings in my nipples, and the word “slave” tattooed on my body above the full steel chastity belt.

“Here are extra of your usual meal shakes, bottles of water, and a gas mask. Your shackles will allow you to reach. Your cell is equipped with a water reservoir for the toilet, and we have some battery power should anything happen. I’m sorry, but we can’t risk taking you out and exposing us. But you will be safe here.”

I was confused and started to get nervous. What was he talking about?

“Master, what…ggaaahhhhh,” I started to ask a question, but was quickly shocked with the collar.

“Never ask me questions, slave! Trust your Masters.”

After I recovered, I responded, “Yes Master.”

“See you soon, slave,” Master said, and turned, went up the stairs, and I heard the heavy steel door lock.

I am no stranger to being left alone in my cell. Sometimes as short as a night without seeing my Masters, but a few times, apparently a few days. I have a hard time keeping track of time down here. I remember back when I first was locked in the cage for a “weekend” session which they quickly extended to forever without my concern, I had begged for time without them. But in the past two years, I have learned to crave their touch and attention, the only human contact I have since then. It gets lonely in this dark dungeon, every toy, bondage equipment, gear, everything, just a reminder of my forced enslavement.

After doing my usual routine of replaying a favorite movie in my head, and then doing my slave exercises of pushups and situps in my cell, I did my slave mantra, and then curled up on the thin mat to fall asleep.

I awoke to the very faint sounds of a siren. My heart leaped! Freedom!!! There were responders somewhere nearby! Maybe the search for me never ended?

“Hello? Hello?” I yelled. “I’m down here!” I started clanging the shackles against the bars, the noise ringing around the dungeon, hurting my ears, but I was desperate!

“Anyone up there? hello?”

I stopped when I saw the lights flicker and go out. They never did that before. Then a glow of a dim light in the corner turned on, a light I never saw before. What did that mean?

I started hearing some very faint quiet snapping and popping from upstairs. What was that? And heard a very subtle roar and barely could hear the sirens. What was happening?

I just laid there, curled up, heart racing and confused, as the noise got louder, and occasional crashing sound. I knew panicking would do nothing since I am locked away in a cell, sealed away in this dungeon. Nothing was in my control. I had to trust what one of my Masters said about being safe. They went through the trouble of building this room, planning my capture, a year of breaking and training me, and countless funds modifying my body with the permanent hair removal and tattoos. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I knew I would have to let go of my fears and accept my fate as a powerless being.

Eventually the sounds quieted down and were replaced with a sound of a drip of water, and a slight smoky smell. But whatever happened seemed to have passed. I allowed myself to drift off to sleep, thinking about my Masters.

I eventually awoke, had a shake, and went about my routine. The room started feeling stale, a little warm, and slightly smoky. The day passed in boredom, and I had another shake, then drifted off again.

I woke with another loud crashing sound. Then a scraping. More crashing sounds. Then I heard the heavy steel door unlocking, and a rush of cool air filled with smoke came into the room. I quickly grabbed the gas mask but prayed I was being freed! I went and stood at the cell doors, saw a shadow of a figure, and then felt a shooting pain from the shock collar. I fell to the ground.

“Listen, slave. Did you think this door would be found by anyone else? You must always greet me correctly!”

I recovered and kneeled but didn’t respond. My mind was reeling and so conflicted.

My Master walked over holding a muzzle and gag, unlocked the cell door and ripped off the gas mask. The thick gag was shoved in, and the muzzle put over my head. My second Master came down the stairs holding a pair of boots. He handed them to the first Master, and they were quickly put on me. I was roughly pulled up to my feet and dragged out of the cell.

“Let’s get him to the car before we are spotted,” my second Master said.

I was pulled by my shackles up the stairs, the first time I have ever touched the stairs since my two years in captivity. I looked up to the open doorway, seeing some headlights and the dark smoky sky, instead of a hallway ceiling. At the top, I looked around. I see my Masters’ truck, back open, and the ruins of their house, burned to the ground. Before I can process what I am seeing, one Master grabs my pits, and the second Master grabs my ankles, I’m lifted and thrown into a box in the back of the truck. As I try to yell into the muzzle, a lid is thrown onto the box, and I hear hammering as the lid is nailed shut. Then, feel a quick lurch, as the truck moves forward, but where, I don’t know.

As my mind wanders while the truck rocks back and forth, I realize how prized I am by my Masters and how I should be more grateful, since I know the extent They will go to always keep their slave safe…

***

Should you enjoy the story, it asks you to please donate to the LA Fire Department Fund and support those putting their life on the line for public safety.

Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation | Kindful

Metal would like to thank the author, boyryan54, for its story!

The Sodomy Squad

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.