By felon
The message was left for me to expect a visitor this afternoon. I was to be in casual dress — jeans, tee shirt and tennis shoes. At approximately 4 p.m. I got a cell phone message to step outside my apartment and wait. I was already dressed, so I threw on a sweatshirt and stepped outside. An unmarked police cruiser circled the building and pulled up in front of my apartment.
It was one of the men that transported me from the hell camp back to my place. He stepped from the car and walked over to me, bent me over the hood and cuffed my hands, then loaded me in the back of his car.
He drove off and after a few minutes of stone-cold silence announced we were on our way for an appointment with my court-appointed psychiatrist for a “review.”
Continue reading Bondage in 2020 Cell Without Bars – Part 10
It took me a couple of hours to write the story for this leather master. The writing was difficult at times, as my focus would stray from the written word to the pain in my ass as the steel plug would ramp up the electroactivity. But I was able to conclude my writing and provide Chris with the signal that I had completed it and saved the file to the folder that he had instructed me to. Now I had to wait for him to read it. The screen went black and I was alone in the bondage, hearing my breathing as I awaited my fate.