Six months later
The sheriff was smiling as he drove down the road, singing along to the loud music pouring out of the speakers in his truck. He glanced at the time on the vintage Omega chronograph on his left wrist and smiled as he recalled his Pet asking him to wear it today. It had been Pet’s favorite watch before he became the sheriff’s captive/slave and Pet had confessed he loved seeing it on his master’s wrist. The sheriff sped up a bit, feeling a thrill from his Pet’s devotion, eager to get to his destination and then back home.
The sheriff had been planning this day for several years. After he became involved with the Facility, he realized that he would be able to achieve a dream. First, running interference for the Facility and keeping legal eyes away from their activities had been lucrative and made early retirement possible. Second, part of his compensation included the acquisition of his Pet. And more . . . .
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 09
Chris led slave 502 out of the building and they stopped under an awning that shaded the entrance. Chris lifted the lid on a cooler sitting nearby, grabbed a bottle of water, opened it, and drank about half of it. He capped the bottle, set it on the cooler, and then undid the penis gag that had kept 502 silent during the tour. Chris pulled out the gag, wiped the drool off on 502’s trunks, and placed it on the cooler. He unclipped the wrist restraints and handed the bottle of water to 502.
“Drink up. I’ll leave the gag out, but don’t assail me with questions. Just listen.”
After taking the empty bottle from 502 and throwing it in a recycling bin, Chris led the slave to a golf cart parked in the paved area just beyond the awning. He directed 502 to get in the passenger seat. Chris then bent down and used clips to attach the wrist and ankle restraints to eyebolts fixed in the seat and floor. He grabbed the gag and tossed it into the back of the golf cart and then jumped into the driver’s seat.
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 08
Chris led 502 out the door, down the hall, and around a corner. Stopping in front of a double-wide door, he unclipped 502’s wrist restraints.
“Stretch a bit. You may be here for a while.”
After he had loosened up the muscles in his arms and shoulders, 502 put his hands behind his back and Chris secured the restraints. He then opened one of the doors and pulled on 502’s leash. The slave stepped in, quickly stopped in his tracks, and repressed an unpleasant wave of déjà vu.
Looking around, 502 saw a medical facility that reminded him of his earlier experience. He focused on a medical examination table with leather restraints attached. Beyond that, he saw a hospital bed with similar restraints and stirrups; next to it, another hospital bed with Segufix restraints. This bed was occupied, with a slave tightly secured.
“The patrons will be worked up after the milking, and 317 here may be providing them with entertainment.”
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 07
Chris led 502 down the hall to another door. They entered and 502 found himself in a large gym.
“This facility is for the slaves and for the staff. Patrons visit here when they wish a gym scene with a slave. Sarge overseas the fitness of the slaves and the staff.”
Chris pulled on the leash and led 502 to the right side of the room. 502 heard something behind him, but he felt a tug on the leash when he started to turn his head.
“Look around on this side and get an idea of how your workouts will be designed.”
As he scanned the equipment, 502 found that there were standard pieces of workout gear, but there were duplicates. The duplicates had been modified in some fashion. It took him a moment to register the differences. His eyes settled on three stationary bikes.
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 06
The screen went blank and 502 stared at it dumbly.
“Over here, 502.”
The slave whipped around and saw a man standing at the entrance to his cell. The tall man was marked as a staff member: he wore a buckled leather cuff around his right wrist and a heavy, stainless steel chronograph on his left wrist. The name tag on his navy polo shirt read “Chris.” Khaki cargo pants tucked into Corcoran boots were held up with a wide black belt that had various items hanging from it. Chris’s muscular build, dark hair and goatee make 502 think of a dominant porn star ready to pounce on a submissive who would become his victim.
Chris pointed to the floor immediately in front of him. Moving quickly, 502 walked over and knelt in front of him.
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 05
Number 502 headed towards the open wall of his cell and out into the corridor.
“Stay where you are, 502. You’ll regret leaving your cell unescorted.”
He whipped around to see who spoke, but there was no one. As the voice continued, however, he saw the speakers built into the ceiling. He also noticed the cameras in each corner of the room, attached to the ceiling.
“Open the top drawer and put on the items inside. Then read the documents on the desk. Your orientation will begin in about an hour.”
Number 502 debated for a moment, and then turned to the set of drawers along the wall. Stark naked in a strange building, he doubted that he would make much progress in terms of escape. Disobedience didn’t seem like a good idea either, although he hadn’t opened the drawer or read the documents yet . . . .
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 04
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.”
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 03
The Third Slave
The third slave didn’t know how long the ride had been, just that it seemed to last forever. He was shifting uncomfortably from the pressure on his bladder when the van came to a stop.
The driver opened the door of the van and stepped in. Before unlocking the slave’s leg irons, the driver pulled up the legs of the slave’s jeans and locked a stun cuff onto each of the slave’s legs.
“Do you want me to demonstrate these?”
The slave shook his head vigorously. He’d seen demonstration videos online.
“Then keep your mouth shut and follow my instructions.”
The driver removed the slave’s wrist shackles and fitted him with transport irons: A waist chain with a handcuff on each side. After these shackles were in place, he removed the leg irons and freed them from the ring in the floor. The driver directed the slave to sit at the edge of the van, his legs dangling out. The driver reshackled the slave’s legs. The slave was grateful that the irons went over his jeans and away from his Achilles tendons.
Continue reading Three Slaves – Part 02