Lost Identity

By Marknorth

Part 1

I really hadn’t done anything all afternoon but watch the clock.  It was almost 3:00 and I was starting to get nervous.  The FedEx deliveries were usually brought around usually by 2:30.  Maybe he didn’t send it or it was sitting down in the mailroom.  I knew I was running tight on time and couldn’t be late or all the planning would be for nothing.  It was a one chance deal – don’t show and don’t bother trying again.  It was Friday, I had next week off, and I had finally gotten up the nerve to fulfill a major fantasy – I was going to give up complete control.

I was just about to give up when the gofer stuck his head into my cube, dropped the package on my desk and disappeared into the sea of cubicles.  I opened the box and peeked at the contents.  Inside there was an old olive-drab knapsack that must have everything I needed in it, a small packet and a padded return FedEx envelope.  The packet had the detailed instructions he told me to follow, twenty-five bucks in cash, a bus ticket and an ID.  The photo on the ID looked very much like me; so close that it was a little scary.  I scanned the instructions and was a little surprised, but this is what I had agreed to, so I was going to do it.  Looking at the clock I had just about a half hour to get to the bus station in time.  Following the instructions I put my wallet with all my credit cards, cash, and ID into the FedEx envelope then dropped my key ring in and sealed it.  It was addressed to him at a Kinko’s in the town where I would be heading, so when I dropped it in the FedEx box outside it would be out my reach until he returned it to me.

I took the knapsack and my gym bag from under my desk and almost jogged to the men’s room.  Once in a stall I pulled the clothes from the knapsack.  I was a little taken aback.  A beat-up pair of black jeans that had seen better days, a well-used black t-shirt that smelled of sweat, an old jockstrap that didn’t look like it had seen a wash machine in quite awhile, a stained and torn olive drab army coat, a pair of well-worn tan work boots, ratty socks, and a black watch cap.  All of this was a far cry from the pinstripe suit that I was wearing!  Fuck it!  I quickly undressed and stuffed the suit, white shirt, tie, loafers, dress socks and designer underwear into the gym bag and put on the supplied clothes.  I hesitated for a few moments before pulling on the used jock, but it was part of the deal. The jeans and t-shirt fit pretty damn tight – I laughed at myself when I wondered if my ass looked good!  As I caught my reflection in the mirror, I got hard as hell – I almost didn’t recognize myself – I was losing my very identity!  As I left the restroom and headed back to my desk I was worried what my coworkers would think, but everyone had their heads down trying to get things wrapped-up for the weekend.  I dropped the duffle bag back under my desk, slung the knapsack over my shoulder, picked up the FedEx envelope and headed downstairs.

Although no one recognized me, I got a few stares in the elevator and the security guys in the lobby followed me to make sure that I left the building – I guess they thought I was some creep who snuck in.  After I dropped the FedEx envelope in the box by the front door of the office building I headed to the bus station.  As I walked I realized that I had just dropped everything that proved I was really me and all my keys into that FedEx box.  All I had was the ID that he sent me – I looked it over – Jeremy Taylor was the name, similar build, blue eyes and blond hair (both like me), a year younger, but we could almost have been twins.  I wondered where he found the picture of someone who looked so much like me?

I got to the bus station with a few minutes to spare.  I handed the ticket and ID to the driver (who knew that they took security precautions on a bus?)  He waved me by, but called me back just as I was climbing the stairs into the bus – oh crap, did he realize it was a fake ID or something? My heart was racing as I walked back to him, as I was thinking that I had nowhere to go if I couldn’t get on that bus – I had little money, no keys, no real ID!  He handed me the ticket stub that he forgot to give me and told me not to cause any trouble this time because he wouldn’t take any crap on his bus.  I breathed a sigh of relief – but what did he mean “this time?”  I realized I looked pretty ragged and smelled, too – maybe I looked like a typical trouble maker?  This wasn’t going to be easy for me at all, I was used to being treated as a young professional and I certainly didn’t like the stares from the other passengers as I found a seat.

I tried to sleep on the bus, but was too wound up.  My excitement was rising the closer we got to the town where he waited.  My dick got hard every time I re-read the instructions that he sent.  I wanted to make sure that I knew what to do up until the moment that I was in his hands.  The bus ride was over four hours long.  It was almost nine by the time we pulled into the bus station and I walked out, turned right, and headed a block to the city bus stop as he had instructed.  I missed the first bus as I didn’t have exact change and had a hard time getting change at the Greyhound station, but I made the second bus and rode it to Fifth Street.  Following his instructions, I walked to the corner tavern and waited for a cab to drive by.  Seemed like forever, but I finally was able to flag one down.  As I stuck my head in the cab and told the driver the address that I had been given he told me it would be about twenty bucks to get there and I had to show him the cash before he would take me.

I realized that the bus ride brought me to the end of the city line.  The cab would have cost more than I could afford from the bus station – I wasn’t used to worrying about scraping together enough cash to take a cab!  About fifteen minutes later he pulled up at the end of a cul-de-sac in front of the only driveway in sight – there were no street lights, but I could just make out what looked like a farmhouse down the drive.  The fare was a buck more than I had – the cabby was pissed, swore at me, and damn near ran me over as he drove away.  Again it hit me – I had no way back into town.

 

Part 2

 

I could make out a dim light at the side of the house.  That would be the side door to the garage where I was instructed to go when I arrived.  I quickly jogged up the driveway and paused at the door – did I really want to go in.  Hell, I really didn’t have a choice.

The garage had an oil-stained floor and metal support posts down the middle.  Just inside the door was a footlocker.  I was to strip down to the jock, put everything else I was wearing in the knapsack, put it in the locker and follow his instructions to get ready.  As I stood there almost naked my dick got hard – I felt like a damn fool.  I set out the items he left for me and locked the knapsack in the footlocker.

Following his instructions wasn’t going to be easy as I looked around the garage and saw the shackles and the chains he referred to – hanging from the ceiling and attached to one of the support posts – where I would soon be spending time.  I had been hoping that there would be some clothes to wear, but I was left with only the jock.  For some reason it made me feel very vulnerable.  I made my way to the post with the shackles and hesitated, again.  Once I took the next steps I was completely at his mercy and I was starting to get nervous.  I finally bent over and placed the left shackle around my ankle and snapped it shut. Now, no matter what, I was chained in place.  My dick sprang to life and I realized that this is why I was here.  Locking the right shackle in place left me standing with my legs spread pretty far apart and with very little movement.  Now the hood.  It was one of the only requests that I had made that he agreed to – the rest was under his control and he would not allow anyone to dictate how, what, or when he would be bound.  My biggest bondage turn-on has always been leather hoods.  The feel and smell of the leather enveloping my head and completely blocking all sight and limiting sound never failed to get me off.  This was no exception.  He had chosen one of the more confining hoods that I had seen.  Tight leather, padded around the mouth, eyes, and ears with a large locking collar and straps to tighten it even more.  As I pulled it on my dick escaped the jock and I started to stroke myself before I remembered that I was not going to be allowed to touch myself anymore without express permission – damn!  I locked the collar in-place and started to tighten the straps around the eyes, under the chin, and across the mouth, but how tight to make them?  Fuck it, the tighter I pulled them the better it felt so I made sure they were tight before snapping the locks on the buckles.  Now I could not see, sound was very muffled, and it would be almost impossible to do more than grunt – this is what I loved.  I don’t think my dick could get any harder.

I then locked the hood’s collar to the chain attached to the post at neck level.  It was short and held my head pretty close to the post.  I had a hard time reaching the wrist shackles that were hanging from the ceiling.  Locating them without being able to see was tough.  I had to almost stand on my tip toes to reach them and quickly snapped the left and then the right in place.  Ankles spread, chained by the collar to the post, and stretched by the wrist manacles – now I waited.  In the confines of the hood all I could hear was my breathing and I began to panic – what if he wasn’t even home?  How long would I be stuck in this position?  Jerking on the chains only reinforced the fact that I wasn’t going anywhere,

I began to struggle wildly and only made it all worse – I had to relax before I cut into my wrists and ankles.  I tried to relax and found it hard to breath – why the hell did I make the straps so tight on the hood?  I tried to yell for help but I couldn’t open my mouth far enough to do more than groan.  Fuck, what the hell had I done to myself?

Slowly I calmed and was finally able to breathe more normally.  OK, I thought, I will be OK – I am sure he is home and probably watching me struggle.  That thought brought my dick back to life and I yearned to be able to rub it or stroke it – but that wasn’t even a remote possibility now.  I don’t know how much time passed but my shoulders started to ache and I began to have a hard time standing on my toes to keep the weight off of my wrists.  The hood was becoming uncomfortable, as well – I was sweating inside of it and the pressure from the strap under my chin was starting to hurt.  And still I hung there.

My feet were cold form the bare concrete and my arms were starting to get numb.  I couldn’t believe that I had actually walked into a complete strangers garage and chained myself up like this.  No one knew where I was.  I had only been in the city a few months and really hadn’t made any friends, so I had told no one where I was going.  No one in the office cared, anyway.  I was just the new guy who somehow had snagged a week off right in the middle of the busiest time of year.  I was brought back to my current situation by the pain in my arms and calves.  I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be able to take this – but what the hell else was I going to do but suffer?

My mind drifted a little and I thought back to how this all began.  I had met him on a bondage site and I had quickly became aware that I was ready to fully submit to someone and he intrigued me.  His first request was to send several pictures of myself – including full body naked shots.  This wasn’t easy for me  but I finally sucked it up and emailed them off.  I met his approval, he indicated that he was only interested in a certain type.  We then chatted online for a couple of weeks before he told me to call him.  Once I heard his voice there was no turning back for me.  He immediately took control and told me how things were going to work.  I would take a week off and he would send me everything I needed and instructions to follow.  I couldn’t recall exactly when I had given myself over to him, but here I was hanging from shackles and chained to a post – the harsh reality of it became even more apparent as I pissed myself.  I realized that I hadn’t even stopped to pee once I received the FedEx box earlier that afternoon.

I didn’t hear anyone enter the garage so I damn near jumped out of my skin when I heard his voice through the leather of the hood.  “You are fucked, aren’t you?” is all he said.  The next thing I knew I was being sprayed with cold water to rinse off the piss on my legs and feet.  It was damn cold and I tried to yell but couldn’t through the hood.  He left again leaving me to hang there.  Yes, I was indeed fucked.  At least I knew he was home and that eased my fear a little.  It didn’t, however, ease the pain in my arms and legs.

More time passed and I heard him through the hood again.  “I think it’s time to take you to your prison … I mean new home.  Don’t you?”  I tried to say “Yes, sir” as best I could.  I felt him unlocking the chain that held the shackles to the ceiling and almost screamed in pain as my arms were finally lowered.  He didn’t remove the shackles from my wrist and he moved on to unlocking my ankles and the chain holding the hood’s collar to the post.  He roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.  I stumbled but had no choice but to keep up with him.  A single step up.  A door slamming closed.  I thought I heard locks being driven home.  A few steps forward.  Another door slamming behind me.  More locks? Then steps.  Downward he brought me.  There seemed to be more steps than usual for a standard basement but I was disoriented, so I couldn’t be sure.  Yet another door and more locks closing behind me.  A few more steps forward and once more I heard a door closing and locks driven home.  Wherever I was – there was no way back out.  My dick grew hard and I heard him laugh as he grabbed it.  “Good. Now that you are truly mine I am so glad to see that you think you are going to enjoy your stay here.”

He led me forward across a cold concrete floor.  After a few turns we stopped and I heard the squeal of hinges.  He force me to my knees and pushed me forward into what I would soon discover was a cage.  I could just make out the door closing and the lock clicking in place behind me.  “Get some rest.  It has been a long day for you.  But, then again, they all will be long days.  Do not touch yourself or cum – that is something you will regret.  All of you is now mine, but especially your dick.”  After a few moments, “Oh, since you wanted the hood so badly it stays on.  I hope you didn’t make the straps too tight.”  Then silence.

Damn it.  I had regretted making the straps on the hood so tight while I was still chained to the post.  Now who the hell knew how long I was going to be stuck wearing it.  It seemed he was going to make me suffer for my request to have the hood from the beginning.

I struggled to turn around and get into a sitting position.  The cage was just large enough to do that.  There would be no stretching out or lying down, though.  I was thankful that he didn’t lock the shackles behind my back and that he didn’t shackle my ankles together.  I got as comfortable as I could.  I was cold and the only the only thing I had on besides the leather hood was a very damp jockstrap.  I was shivering but my dick was still hard as hell.  After awhile I forgot his warning not to jack off and started to stroke myself.  It warmed me up and I eventually blew a load in the jock.  I drifted in and out of sleep for awhile before finally succumbing to exhaustion.

 

Part 3

 

I awoke with a start as he slammed the cage door open and dragged me out by my leg onto the cold concrete.  As he forcefully grabbed my cock and squeezed I heard him yell,  “What the hell is this boy?  You can’t even follow simple directions?  You are not to cum or even touch this cock unless I tell you to.  I think you will learn to obey my commands soon enough.”

He roughly jerked me to my feet and forced me forward.  My head was reeling, I was disorientated, and I was struggling for breath inside the leather hood.  I was now truly scared as I had no idea what the hell was in store for me.  I knew I was about to be punished.  He had explicitly warned me during our chats that I would be made to pay for any disobedience.  My heart was racing as I heard a door slamming open and then closed behind me.  He pushed me roughly to my knees and left there, panting inside the hood.  I could make out several voices in the room – his and another.  I jerked as someone pulled me to my feet and dragged me forward.  I was stopped and the jock was pulled off.  My wrist shackles were unlocked and I was bent over a table and my arms were pulled wide and my wrists restrained to it.  He kicked my legs apart and locked my legs to the table.  My ass was fully exposed and I was anticipating being beaten or whipped but instead I felt something cold and metallic being shoved into my hole.  I had never had a butt plug in before and my ass squeezed tightly – preventing it from going in.  He slapped my ass hard and forced it in.  I was trying to scream but the hood prevented it.  “You’ll get used to it.”

There was something dangling from the plug and I wondered if it was some kind of a tail meant to humiliate me even further – I couldn’t have been more wrong.  I was left locked to the table for awhile before they undid the restraints, turned me around, and attached what must have been a cock ring.  I felt something dangling from this too.  I was turned around again and he started to unlock the hood straps – I was going to be out of the hood at last!  “When this is removed you will not speak at all and you will keep your eyes looking at your feet.  In fact, if you make any sound at all it will only make things worse for you.  Do you understand?”  I nodded my head and grunted, “Yes, sir” as best I could.

He pulled the hood off and I drew the deepest breath that I had in what seemed like days and I quickly dropped my eyes to the floor.  The room was very dark so the light didn’t bother my eyes much.  As I looked at my feet I couldn’t help but notice the metal cock ring and the wires attached to it.  We hadn’t talked about any kind of electro and I started to panic again – I almost spoke before I remembered his warning.  There was nothing I could do but wait and see what was to come.

He pushed me forward and keeping my eyes downcast he led me to a corner of the room.  He opened a door in front of me and pulled something out of what I thought was a closet.  He pulled another hood over my head, but this one was more like a gas mask and had a hose attached at the mouth, but no openings for the eyes.  I was once again plunged into darkness.  He turned me around and pushed be backwards until I was pressed against what must have been a padded leather wall.  He attached my ankles and wrists to leather restraints attached to the wall and fiddled with the wires and the hose on the hood for a few minutes.  “Remember that you brought this on yourself.  There is no one else to blame,” he said as he closed the door.  It, too, was lined in padded leather and it pressed tighter and tighter against me as he pushed it shut.  I was pushed back into the padding of the back wall and couldn’t have moved even if he hadn’t attached the restraints – I tried to struggle, but could hardly even squirm.  I screamed into the hood and gasped for breath.  Oh shit, what the hell had I gotten myself into.  I realized that being in a panic wasn’t going to help.  My breathing was ragged.  I forced myself to calm down.  I can breathe.  I couldn’t hear anything but my heart pounding in my ears.  Slowly I calmed down and my breathing steadied and my heart rate slowed.  This was going to be OK – wrong again.

It occurred to me that being trapped in a tight leather prison was something that I had always wanted.  Although I was thinking sleepsack or straight jacket, not a padded leather-lined closet.   That thought fled quickly as I felt a tingling deep inside my ass.  A little at first but it grew and grew until it was horrible.  The electricity running through the butt plug became too much to bear and I screamed in pain.  It slowly faded and left me panting and in tears.  Then the tingling started in my cock and balls.  Oh no, oh no.  It quickly rose from a mere tingle to a pain as bad as from the butt plug.  I screamed and tried to struggle, but there was no relief.  It lasted for what seemed like an eternity before it slowly faded too.  I felt more tears run down my checks and I struggled to breathe normally, but the pain started again in my ass and before it faded there it started in my balls.  I screamed myself hoarse as the pain alternated from my ass to my balls and back again over and over.  It would stop for awhile and I would think it was over just to have the tingling begin again.  I have no idea how long this lasted.  I was sobbing in pain and soaked in sweat and couldn’t even scream anymore by the time it finally came to an end.  I waited in dread for the next shocks to start – thinking that any moment I would feel it start again.  I think I passed out.  When I came to I couldn’t remember where I was and struggled against the leather that was holding me tight until I realized that it was useless.  How long had I been out?  How long would he keep me in this leather prison.  I tried to scream, but my throat was raw and dry.  All I could think of at that moment was that I had done this to myself.  I had no one else to blame for this predicament.  I waited in darkness and silence – my ass and dick still throbbing in pain.

Eventually the door slowly opened and the restraints were released.  I collapsed into his arms as he removed the hood and I broke into sobs.  If I was expecting to be comforted I was sorely mistaken.  He roughly moved me back to the table gruffly reminding me to keep my eyes on the floor.  Pushing me down he pulled the butt plug out quickly and I was relieved to have it gone, but I was again mistaken as he pushed another plug into its place.  He then removed the cock ring and placed a harness around my waist which held the plug firmly in place and encased my cock within a hard leather cover.  The harness was locked in place and he pushed me to my knees.  He handed me a bottle of water and allowed me to drink my fill.  I breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived.  As I knelt there he pulled my head back and pulled the leather hood back on tightening the straps and locking it in place before pulling me to my feet.  I groaned in resignation.

He pulled me through several doors before pushing me to the floor.  “I am disappointed in your behavior so far,” he said before locking my wrists and ankles into heavy manacles.  A door was slammed and locked very close to where I sat.

 

Part 4

 

I shifted position and realized that the manacles on my wrists and ankles were chained to the wall.  The chains were short and allowed very limited movement.  I was forced to remain in a sitting and slumped against the wall.  The concrete floor was cold, my ass and balls were sore and the butt plug just added to the discomfort.  The straps on the hood were very tight and I broke into sobs.  Time passed in darkness and silence.  As I sat there I again realized that I had no way out of this.  His control over me was absolute and the punishment was only because I failed to listen – it was my fault.  I let my mind wander and eventually I succumbed to a fitful sleep.

I awoke to the sound of the door being unlocked.  I felt relief as he started to unlock the straps on the hood.  As he pulled it off he reminded me to keep my eyes on the floor – I had no right to look at him.  Anxious not to displease him I obeyed.  He set a plate of food and a bottle of water next to me and told me to eat, but not until the door was closed and locked behind him.  When he was gone I surveyed my surroundings and found myself in a small concrete cell.  It was barely 4 feet wide and couldn’t be more than that long.  The door was metal with a small mesh-covered slit at eye level that was currently covered from the outside.  There were numerous metal rings and several sets of manacles along the walls and hanging from the ceiling and there was a single dim bulb within a metal cage above the door.  He had left the hood on the floor just out of my reach – almost taunting me.

I ate and drank quickly and was sunk into darkness as soon as I was finished.  He must have been  watching.  Again I sat in darkness trying to get comfortable.  The cell was damp and smelled faintly of sweat and urine.  I realized that I had to piss and eventually had to go where I sat, dampening the leather of the harness as I did so.  Sitting in my own filth I regretted ever agreeing to this and wondering if I was ever going to get out.

After what seemed like days the cell door opened.  I quickly made sure that I was looking at the floor and saw nothing but his boots as he walked into the cell.  He unlocked the manacles and pulled me to my feet.  He turned me to the wall and handcuffed my hands behind my back and locked ankle irons in place before moving me out of the cell.  The cell was at one end of a narrow hallway and he allowed me to raise my eyes to see where I was – I was not, however, to turn to look at him.  There was another metal door like the one I had just exited followed by three additional cells.  These were actual jail cells fully outfitted with beds and toilets just like you would see in a prison – I again wondered if I was ever going to see daylight.  But my dick grew hard as I looked at the cells.

Each of the cells was occupied and the guys in them were facing the back wall with their heads down.  All were chained by their ankles to bolts in the cell floors and were naked.  We passed the cells and entered a shower area where he removed the harness, butt plug, and handcuffs and allowed me to shower.  I felt almost human.  Handcuffed again, we moved back to the cells and he made me kneel with my head down while he unlocked the closest one.  He unchained the guy in the cell, handcuffed him and pushed him to the floor where he was made to lay on his side.  My eyes travelled up his smooth body to his face – he was the guy on the ID that I had been given!  Jeremy.  What the hell did this mean?

Jeremy never said a word as I was brought into the cell.  Our eyes met and I was fascinated by how much we looked alike.  It was bizarre to see someone who could be your twin.  I was about to get a little too close to Jeremy, though. He pushed my down to the floor and onto my side in a 69 position with Jeremy.  He left the cell for a few moments and when he returned he pushed my head between Jeremy’s legs and put his cock into my mouth.  He then put Jeremy’s head between my legs and my cock into his mouth.  We were lying on our sides with each other’s cocks in our mouths.  He bound us together making it impossible to pull away.  My cock sprang to life in Jeremy’s mouth and he gagged a little.  I am sure he was grateful that my dick was relatively small, though his was not.  Limp it filled my mouth and I now realized that if he got hard I would be hard pressed not to choke.  Unfortunately my fear was soon realized as he grew hard.  He had started to lick and suck my dick which caused me to moan in ecstasy and, as his cock grew hard, I had to struggle not to gag.  He had told me not to cum but as Jeremy sucked, I was sure that I couldn’t stop myself.  As if reading my mind he told us both that it was permissible – I had forgotten that he was still watching us.

I did cum.  So did Jeremy.  There was no choice but to swallow and I worried about that a little.  Afterwards we laid there unable move much at all.  The cell door was closed and I heard his retreating footsteps.  How long was he going to leave us in this position I wondered?  Jeremy seemed very relaxed and his breathing slowed – had he fallen asleep?  I think I may have dozed but came awake quickly when I started to choke.  He was getting hard again!  He started to suck on me and I returned the favor, but I was to wiped out to cum again.  We both relaxed but I felt his body starting to get tense.  I thought he tried to mumble something around my dick, but I couldn’t make it out.  I was horrified when he started to piss in my mouth!  I tried to let it run out the side of my mouth, and some did, but my swallowing reflex kicked – I had never drunk piss before and I was nauseated.  I struggled against the bonds but to no avail.  I was disgusted.  I hadn’t agreed to anything like this!  Damn it – he hadn’t allowed any preconditions.  I had, in effect, agreed to anything he could or would do to me.  My struggling aroused Jeremy and tears ran down my cheek as his dick went down my throat.

I think hours passed before he came back and released us.  He hosed us off where we lay and allowed us to dry ourselves before chaining us to the bolt in the floor.  He pulled a locking gag on me as he said I could still not be trusted to obey and he didn’t want me to have to be punished again so soon.  Jeremy quietly retreated to a bed and I followed his lead to the other.  The cell door was locked and after a moment another door in the hall was closed and locked.

I was relieved to be only locked by one ankle.  No handcuffs, no manacles, no plugs.  The gag was tolerable.  Jeremy had rolled onto his side away from me so I looked through the bars into the adjacent cells.  Both the guys were silently looking at me and I was stunned.  They too looked just like me and Jeremy.  The blue eyes, the blond hair, same build and height.  This was just getting more freaky.  Remembering all the slasher horror movies I began to wonder if he collected guys that look like us.  If he did, what did he do with them?  After a while they both went to sleep and I did too.  It was almost blissful.

 

Part 5

 

Morning came.  Well I’ll call it morning.  I really had no idea what time it was or even what day it was.  I had no feel for how long I had been here.  It must have been days already, but I couldn’t tell.  He brought food and I followed the other guy’s lead as they turned to the back wall and kept their eyes to the floor as soon as the hall door opened.  He called me to the cell door and unlocked and removed the gag – reminding me that I was not to utter a word.  We ate in silence and I couldn’t help but look at the other guys.  It seemed so narcissistic, but they were cute.  They glanced at me from time to time but apparently did not think this situation was at all strange.

When he came to remove the trays we faced the wall.  He was taking one of the other guys down the hallway when he called me to the cell door again.  He raised my chin so that I could look into the other guy’s eyes – I kept my focus on that face.  It was almost like a living mirror.  He said, “He is being released today.  I imagine that you had started to wonder if I ever would let you go?  He served his time and will be sent on his way – just the reverse of the way you came here.”  With that he showed me a knapsack just like the one that he sent to me and that I carried here.  He pulled out an ID and showed it to me.  It was mine!  This guy was being sent home with my driver’s license – what the hell?  I immediately recalled that I had used Jeremy’s ID to get here.  I didn’t get it.

“Adam has a long way to go today.”  He said as they turned and walked away.  Adam?  I’m Adam.  That guy isn’t me.  I was frustrated and scared.  He had my ID, would I ever get it back?  It was the only way I had to get into my office or even to prove that I lived in my apartment.  Before I knew what I was doing I yelled, “Wait!  You can’t just let him leave with my ID.  Hey!”  The door at the end of the hall slammed shut.

Jeremy had come up behind me and put his hand firmly over my mouth.  He pulled me back and flopped me on my stomach on the bed.  I struggled a bit, but gave up.  There wasn’t anything I could do, anyway.  Jeremy bent down close and whispered in my ear, “You shouldn’t have yelled at him.  He won’t be happy.”  Then he went and sat on his bed looking at me sadly.

Of course, Jeremy was right.  I sat in dread until I heard the door open.  We all jumped to our feet and faced the wall but he was only interested in me.  Roughly pulling me from the cell and barely stopping to snap cuffs and ankle restraints on, he dragged me down the hall and through the door.  We were in another hallway.  Wider than the one by the cells with a heavy door at each end and several along the sides – each was closed and locked.  In my panic I wasn’t looking a the floor and saw another guy in the hall in front of the last door.  He was big and muscular.  Handsome in a rugged way – his partner I would learn later.  He looked at me with no expression.  I heard a hoarse whisper in my ear, “You have disobeyed me twice.  Actually three, as I see you are not looking at the floor as told.”  I quickly looked down.  “Yes, but a little late, don’t you think?  I am truly disappointed in you.”

“There are lessons to be learned.  We will make sure that you learn that there is nothing but to obey and to do so absolutely willingly.”  I shuddered in his grip not from fear, but from the weight of his disappointment.  The door was unlocked and they led me inside.

 

Part 6

 

The room, like the others I had seen, was dimly lit.  I did not even try to resist as they removed the cuffs and ankle irons and locked my wrists to a pair of heavy manacles hanging from the ceiling.  My legs were pulled apart and my ankles chained, as well.  A loose, burlap hood that reeked of mold and sweat was pulled over my head.  I had no idea what was going to happen but I didn’t have to wait long.  The first crack across my back brought a scream to my lips.  Several more quickly followed and I pleaded for forgiveness and begged him to stop.  I wasn’t going to be able to stand this.  He didn’t stop.  Each blow brought louder screams until he forced a gag into my mouth.  I lost count of the number of times he struck me.  I was crying in desperate pain and moaning into the gag.  They eventually threw cold water on my back and left me to hang there.  I heard the door slam as they left

A flogging.  Another punishment that I brought upon myself.  Hanging there sobbing within the stinking hood I came to the realization that I could no longer disobey.  My arms began to ache and the pain in my back did not lessen as time went by.  I was angry at myself for making him do this to me and knew that I would gladly accept the pain.  I thought I was mentally stronger than this but at that moment I understood that I needed to obey without hesitation.

Eventually he returned and undid the manacles.  I slumped to my knees and hung my head.  I made no sound.  He removed the burlap sack and the gag.  I placed my hands behind my back and waited to be led back to the small cell.  Instead he led me back to the leather lined box.  I wanted to scream and resist, but I did neither as he inserted the metal plug and pulled the cock ring on.  The gas mask-style hood was pulled over my head and I was once again plunged into darkness.  I backed into the box of my own accord and stayed still as he locked the restraints in place and connected the wires and breathing tube.  As the door closed and I was held firmly between the layers of padded leather, I resigned myself to the pain to come.  And come it did.  The shocks came faster and lasted longer than the first time.  I tried not to scream but could not help it.  I screamed myself hoarse and felt the tears running down my face as the shocks alternated between my ass and balls.  I had no way to measure the passage of time but the length of each session seemed much longer than before and the spaces between them much shorter.  I could think of nothing but the pain.  As before the shocks eventually stopped and I was left tightly-held in the leather prison.  Darkness, silence, and pain.  That is all I had.  I passed out.

He removed me from the box and I dropped to my knees before him.  He removed the hood, the plug, and the cock ring.  I said nothing as I looked at the floor.  I heard him chuckle quietly.  “I think you may have learned this time, yes?” he said.  I could barely speak but quietly said, “yes, sir.”  He locked handcuffs and leg irons in place and led me to a corner of the room where there was a small shower stall.  He allowed me to stand in the warmth of the water for a long time.  The stinging in my back had been forgotten in the box but was now noticeable again.  I realized that I welcomed that pain.  It was the reminder of what I had done to myself, as was the pain in my ass and balls.  The shower was wonderful – an undeserved reward.  He gave me water and a small snack, which he fed to me as my hands remained locked behind my back.  He gave me a chance to piss and then pulled the dreaded leather hood back in pace and locked the tightened straps in place.  I was then manacled to the wall of the small cell and left alone.  I was comforted by the routine and drifted off to sleep.  When I awoke I was still alone.  I could hear nothing but my own breathing.  My naked ass was cold on the concrete and my back and arms ached.  I was unable to find a position that was comfortable, but I deserved to suffer.  A simple transgression had brought this on.  I briefly wondered what more severe disobedience would cause, but vowed to never allow myself to find out.

In time the cell door opened.  The manacles were unlocked and I was free to stand.  He ordered me to exercise.  A few pushups, jumping jacks, running in place – nothing too strenuous, but it was hard to breathe within the hood and I was soon gasping for breath and sweating inside the leather.  He allowed me to stop and I quickly knelt.  It must have pleased him for he removed the hood and took me to one of the other cells.  After locking the ankle shackle in place he closed and locked the cell door and left.  I looked into the other cells and saw Jeremy smiling at me.  I was in the cell that was vacated by the guy who had my ID and the other cell was empty.  I smiled back at Jeremy and wondered what was going to happen to me.  It seemed that I had been here for more than the agreed upon week, but I had no idea.  We were left alone in the cells for hours before he brought food and water.  I was starving and ate quickly.  There was plenty and I was full by the time I finished.

 

Part 7

 

Time passed slowly.  It was monotonous.  No sounds, nothing to do, no reprieve.  For some reason the more I thought about being locked here, basically helpless, the harder my dick became.  I knew better than to touch it and quickly knelt on the floor with my hands behind me so I was not tempted.  Oh, it was agony not to be able to jack off.  Even with my back still throbbing and my ass still sore, I was hard as hell!  This made the time pass even slower and I tried to take my mind off of it.  Each time I got hard I did some pushups or other exercises and eventually grew soft.  I again worried that I was not going to be released.  I had displeased him twice.  Maybe he meant to keep me longer as punishment – or maybe not release me at all.  I would lose my job, my apartment, everything.  I had never felt so utterly helpless.  The lights finally went out and we slept.

We fell into a routine, then.  He fed us once a “day” (I have no idea if the periods of light reflected 5 hours or 12), we exercised as he saw fit, scrubbed the cells and surrounding areas.  We were never without restraints of some kind – usually leg irons or heavier shackles – it was a reminder of his control, rather than to prevent escape.  I grew more familiar with the layout of my prison home.  Bedsides the cell block area there was the adjacent hall with several additional rooms – two of which I had already, regretfully, seen.  Every door was heavy steel and they were locked at all times.  His partner watched over us and made sure we completed whatever task assigned to his satisfaction.  We sucked their cocks whenever it was demanded, which was frequently.

After several “days” a mind-numbing boredom set in, but we were rewarded for our work and placed in the same cell for the “evening.”  We were given permission to relax completely and that included being able to jack each other off.  We were, however, forbidden to speak to one another.  Once he closed the cell door and left us alone I started stroking myself – it had been so long since I had been able to cum that I was sure that I would explode in seconds.  Jeremy, however, knelt before me and took my dick into his mouth and slowly stroked it with his tongue.  I moaned in pleasure.  He slowly continued to suck and stroke – bringing me right to the edge and then backing off before bringing me to the edge again.  It was unbelievable how great it felt and my body shook with pleasure.  When I couldn’t hold back anymore I tried to pull away, but he held me in his mouth as I came.  I almost cried with the pure joy of it!

I fell back onto the bed and pulled him on top of me and held his warm body tightly to mine.  I reached down and started to stroke him.  He grew hard and we kissed each other greedily.  He pulled away and I thought I had done something wrong before he forcefully rolled me over and pushed his hard cock into my ass.  I moaned again as he started to thrust almost angrily.  He rammed hard and fast and I was taken aback by the difference between his gentleness in getting me off and this.  It was like another person completely.  His aggressive penetrations were starting to be painful.  His dick was large and I had never been fucked like this.  I groaned in pain but this only spurred him to thrust harder.  His breathing was heavy and he was moaning in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper and deeper.  I was expecting him to pull out soon but he exploded inside me with almost painful force.  He thrusted hard several more times before dropping down on top of me in sweaty exhaustion.  I was stunned.  Elated and horrified at the same time.  As his breathing slowed, the warmth of his body and softness of his skin on mine pushed any thoughts away and I dozed.

We awoke to the opening of the cell door and we both dropped to our knees before him.  While I watched, he face fucked Jeremy hard before locking the shackle to his ankle.  He tossed a pair of handcuffs and leg irons at me and I snapped them in place.  As he led me from the cell I met Jeremy’s eyes and hoped he would let us be together again soon.  He walked me out to the outer hall and into one of the rooms that I hadn’t seen yet.   Although I couldn’t think of why, I knew I was about to be punished again.

 

Part 8

 

His partner was waiting in the room.  there was a sleepsack on the floor next to what could best be described as a leather-lined shipping crate. the lid was hinged and had several locking hasps.  It didn’t take long for me to figure out the set-up.  I almost began to struggle before remembering that it would only make everything worse.  They removed the restraints before pulling my naked body into the well used leather sleepsack.  They made short work of making sure it was tightly secured.  It was tight enough to allow only shallow breaths by the time they were done.  The collar was locked and they admired their handiwork for a few moments before he pulled the damned leather hood over my head and tightly locked it in place.  My dick was hard inside the tight leather but I was having a hard time breathing and I started to panic.  I don’t know if he noticed but it made no difference.  I felt them lift me and place me inside the box.  It was a tight fit and I could feel the sides against my shoulders as they closed the lid.  I heard the locks snap in place and I began to freak.  I tried to scream but, of course, could only make muffled grunts inside of the hood.  I struggled to move side by side but there was no room for movement.  I think I was hyperventilating – what had I done wrong?  My mind raced in panic.

I felt them lift the box and I fought to calm down.  I had to slow my breathing down.  I was sweating heavily inside all of the leather as they carried the box.  I could tell that they were climbing the stairs and realized I was being taken out of the cells.  What the hell were they going to do and where were they taking me?  I focused on getting myself under control – they weren’t going to bury me in a field somewhere!  Or was the time with Jeremy my “last fuck?”  Thinking of Jeremy helped to calm me down and I got my breathing down to a more manageable level.  OK, I was getting enough air – that was good, now what?

They stopped moving and the box was set down and slid forward.  I heard a door slam and then another before the sound of an engine. We must be in a van or truck.  We started to move.  I tried to relax.  I was soaked with sweat and my breathing was ragged.  The road was bumpy and it was jarring inside the crate.  I was being moved like a piece of furniture.  I had, no doubt, grown too comfortable the last few “days” and now he was going to remind me of that.  But why was I being moved?  The truck stopped and then backed up for a bit.  I heard the doors slam and felt the crate being carried again.  After a short while it was dropped rather hard and I was jolted as it hit the floor.  I heard footsteps retreating and then nothing. I had to fight to control my breathing again.  Was this the punishment?  To be locked inside this box for who knows how long, unable to move and barely able to breathe?  What had I done to bring this on?  Was it simply a reminder that I was always at his mercy?  I waited.  I was barely able to control my panic from moment to moment.  This was different than the other punishments – there was no pain or distraction to take my mind off of the circumstances.  I could only think about my next breath and how horribly confined I was.  My damn dick was hard which made it worse.

I finally heard footsteps and voices, although I couldn’t make out what was being said.  They were close, though.  I had an enormous sense of relief – he was going to let me out!  I felt something thump against the lid of the crate and then nothing.  The voices picked up again and one was very close.  I realized that someone was sitting on the damn crate.  I tried again to yell and started to struggle inside my leather prison.  The muffled grunts and squirming were ignored, if they were even heard at all.  I fought to calm myself again.  I was slippery with sweat and the fact that they were sitting there but not letting me out was frustrating as hell.  The voices continued on and off and then there was the sound of additional footsteps.  The lid creaked as he got up and then the voices faded.  They left me again!  The straps on the hood were really starting to dig into my chin from my attempts to scream.  I struggled again inside the sleepsack, I don’t know why – I knew I wasn’t going get myself out – but it distracted me from the situation.  Eventually I gave up and just lay there gasping for breath.

I heard footsteps and the locks on the crate being undone.  I could feel the cooler air as the lid was opened and they lifted me out of the crate and set me on the floor.  I squirmed and grunted hoping that he would take the hood off quickly, but I only succeeded in getting pushed hard several times with the toe of a boot.  I realized again that I was not the one in control – a lessen I should have learned well – and tried to relax.  After a bit he unlocked and removed the hood – much to my relief.   It appeared that we were in an old warehouse or factory.  There were a few dim bulbs and old crates, but not much else.  His partner was standing over a kneeling figure – who turned out to be the guy that had left the cells with my ID what seemed ages ago.  He unlocked the collar and pulled me out of the sleep sack which was now soaked with my sweat.  He had me kneel facing the other guy.  As we looked a teach other I realized again how much we looked alike.  Just like Jeremy.  It struck me that was why he was so particular about physical appearance online before he would even get into deeper conversation – he apparently collected us.

 

Part 9

 

He had the other guy start to strip.  It finally occurred to me that he was wearing the very clothes that I had on when I first came to the cells.  The well worn work boots, tight black jeans, olive drab army coat, tight black t-shirt, ratty socks and black watch cap.  I watched him undress and my dick sprang to life.  The last thing he removed was the grungy jock before he was made to kneel again.  I was still covered in sweat from the sleepsack as he told me to get dressed.  Of course the clothes were still warm from his body heat.  The jock was crusted with cum stains and urine, but I never hesitated as I pulled it on.  The t-short was ripe with sweat and I was only going to make it worse.  When I finished I noticed the guy had been watching me and his dick was hard, too.  Again I knelt.

Without much fanfare they pulled his naked body into the sleepsack that was so recently my prison.  I thought of how damp with my sweat it was as they trussed him tightly inside and locked the collar in place.  He had struggled a little at first but quickly gave in.  They pulled my leather hood on him and I watched as they pulled the straps tight and locked them in place.  He grunted and squirmed a little as they lifted him into the crate.  I was fascinated to see how I had looked just a little while ago.  When they closed the lid he made me snap the locks in place.  I could just hear the guy’s moans through the crate as they placed him in the back of the van and slammed the door.  I was confused as to why the guy was returning to the cells if he had already been released – but he must have signed on for some more time with him.

His partner climbed in the driver’s side of the van as he came over to me.  He dropped the knapsack next to me and told me that everything I needed was inside.  He was pleased with me was all he said as he walked back to the van and then drove away.  I realized that I had hardly spoken to him (or he to me) all the while I was in the cells.  In fact, I had really only seen him a small number of times.  His partner had handled the day to day stuff with us.  So why did that faint praise seem so satisfying to me?

I picked up the knapsack and left the warehouse.  It was just around the block from the tavern where I had caught the cab on the way out to the cells.  It was dark, early evening on Saturday.  I had been gone since last Friday – I could have argued it was much longer.  I waited at the stop for the city bus to take me back downtown so that I could catch the greyhound back to the city.  When the bus came I dug in the knapsack for the fare and watched the neighborhoods go by.  By the time we reached the station downtown I had enough time to take a leak and maybe grab a soda (I would have to check the knapsack to see just how much money I had).  As I walked through the station’s lobby I felt that I was being watched.  Looking (and smelling) like I did that actually would come as no surprise.  But shortly after I entered the men’s room two guys came rushing in.  One guy blocked the door while the other one advanced on me.  “I don’t have any money, just leave me alone please!”  I yelled at the guy.

He laughed. “I don’t want your money little fag boy.  I want some more of what you gave me a few hours ago.  Hell, my friend wants some too.  He missed out last time!”  What the hell was he talking about and what was going on?  I tried to brush past him but he grabbed my arm and twisted.  He was a hell of a lot stronger than me and he quickly pushed me to my knees.  “Where do you think you’re going little faggy, huh?  You ain’t leavin’ ’til we’re satisfied.  You gave me a hell of a suck before, I just want seconds!”

What the hell was he talking about?  Then it slowly dawned on me as he held me down.  The other guy must have just come through here on his way back to the cells – he looks just like me and I am wearing the same damn clothes as he was.  He must have (or been forced) to give this jackass a blowjob and now he wants another one.  I could smell the liquor on his breath as he bent down and said, “I ain’t gonna hurt you if you do it.  I was good enough for your little fag ass before.  We got a bus to catch so just relax and we’ll all leave happy.  Otherwise I’m just gonna break your fuckin’ arm!”  As he wrenched my arm I quickly reached up and yanked at the crotch of his jeans.  He relaxed his grip once I started to unbutton the fly and he reached in and pulled his cock out.

He pulled the watch cap off my head and roughly grabbed my hair and forced my face onto his dick.  Before Jeremy and I had been locked together I had never had another man’s dick in my mouth.  Now I was sucking on some random drunk’s cock in the restroom of a bus station.  As I sucked him off I realized that I certainly looked the part of some low class hustler.  I was horrified when I felt my own cock harden inside my jeans. It didn’t take him long to climax, thankfully, but the fucker came all over my face.  Before I could wipe it off or even stand up he traded places with the other guy.  This guy already had his dick out – he must have been jerking off watching me blow the other guy – and wasted no time forcing it down my throat.  He face fucked me and hard.  I gagged and sputtered but he couldn’t have cared less.  It took him a long damn time to finally cum.  He made it a point to blow his load in my hair.  He backhanded me hard across the face then pushed me to the floor, kicked me hard in the ribs, and laughed as he walked away.  His buddy chuckled, “See you again soon little faggot.  I’m sure you’d like the repeat business!”

 

Part 10

 

I laid on the filthy floor for a few minutes hugging my side.  What the hell just happened is all I could think.  I week ago I was a suit and tie wearing professional.  Now I’m laying on the floor of a public restroom in a bus station with cum on my face and in my hair.  I struggled to my knees and crawled over to the sink and pulled myself up.  In the cracked mirror I could already see the welt around my eye from his backhand.  I ran some water and rinsed off the cum from my face and tried to get it out of my hair.  There were no damn paper towels so I used my sleeve as best I could.  The PA announcer called for boarding of the bus back to the city.  I picked up the watch cap (which had been laying in some filth) and pulled it on and grabbed the knapsack and headed to the boarding area.  I was hoping that no one would notice my hard-on in the tight jeans.

The driver took the ticket and glanced up from his clip board.  “Didn’t you just come in on this bus – now you’re leavin’?”  Again the mistaken identity – I was beginning to forget who the hell I was anyway.  “Yea,” I said, “there’s no reason to stay.  They kicked me out.”  Whatever, he seem satisfied as he handed me back the stub.  As I boarded I realized that he hadn’t asked for ID – probably thought he already knew me.

As I walked down the aisle of the bus I overhead “Take a fuckin’ shower, asshole; ” and “Ever hear of deodorant?”  I stared down at the floor to avoid their glares.  “Well, little faggoty’s ridin’ the same bus as us.  What a bonus.  Kinda like in-flight entertainment!”  Before I could move away the guy who had smacked me in the bathroom pulled me over into the window seat beside him.  His grip was like iron on my arm as he twisted me into a sitting position where he held me tightly.  I tried to struggle but he cracked me across the face so damn hard I saw stars and slumped back into the seat.  “That’s right fag.  You just sit there and relax.  Ain’t no one gives a shit ’bout you on this bus, so you and me’s gonna have a little fun.”

He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out an old sweat soaked bandanna which he shoved into my mouth and tied around the back of my head before I could resist.  “Just in case you get any ideas ’bout callin’ for help before we leave.”  He then pulled me forward and yanked my jacket down behind me pinning my arms.  The small seat and his bulk made it an effective restraint. The gag and the fact that I was restrained brought my dick to life.  “Now, little faggy.  Sit still and shut up ’til we get movin’.”  What the hell could I do.  I hoped he wouldn’t notice the bulge in my jeans.  After what seemed like hours the bus pulled out onto the highway.  We were soon outside the town’s limits and the street lights faded away.  The asshole undid his fly and pulled his dick out and stroked it a few times to get it hard.  He laughed at his buddy across the aisle, who turned to the window and pretended to sleep.  He yanked the bandanna out of my mouth, but left it around my neck, and pulled my head down onto his cock.  “You just suck and lick and whatever other little tricks ya got and don’t stop ’til I pull your queer little head off of it.  Got it?”  I mumbled, “yes,” around his dick as I started to suck it.

The asshole had it down to an art.  Holding my head by the hair he guided me as I sucked and licked.  He would pull me up as he came to the edge and then force me down to start all over again.  I choked and gagged from time to time, but no one on the bus seemed to notice – maybe they were all asleep.  He quietly moaned and gripped my hair harder as he came to the edge each time.  My jaw was more than sore and I had no saliva left – how long did he think I could keep this up?  The fact that my own dick was throbbing inside my tight jeans didn’t help matters.  Eventually his moans increased and he force himself deeper down my throat.  I was praying that he wouldn’t cum in my mouth and he did not.  He pulled me off so he could shoot full-on in my face.  He laughed and shoved the bandanna back into my mouth and made sure that my arms were still pinned by the jacket before he pushed me back into my seat.  “Better rest faggot.  We still got hours to go and I’m havin’ fun.”  He turned aside and quickly dozed off.

I sat there feeling his cum dry on my face, tasting his dick and the sweat from the bandanna in my mouth, and the sting on my face from where he had hit me.  My arms were caught behind me in the sleeves of the jacket and he was half on top of me – so I was stuck.  I stared out the window as we made our way toward the city, flinching every time he moved or moaned.  Luckily, he did not wake up again until we were pulling into the station.  “Oh, shit.” He said when he saw where we were, “You owe me some more fun little faggy!”  He was reaching for me when his buddy growled at him, “Leave the fucker be, we’ve gotta get going as soon as we stop.”

The guy next to me glared at me as the bus came to a stop.  “I hope I see you soon.” He slapped me then and he and his buddy walked quickly up the aisle and off the bus as soon as the driver opened the door.  I squirmed and struggled until I could get my arms free and pulled the bandanna out of my mouth.  I tried to ignore my throbbing dick as I darted into the buses’ bathroom.  I rinsed my face as best I could – there was no mirror.  I then grabbed the knapsack that had been tossed on the floor and quickly walked out of the bus station.  I did not want to take the chance of running into them again.

 

Part 11

 

I squinted into the midmorning sun.  It was Sunday and downtown was deserted as usual on the weekends.  I walked aimlessly for a while trying not think about what had just happened to me.  How could I put it out of my mind, though?  I was basically raped.  Well, kinda.  The guy had beat the shit out of me – but I couldn’t get past the fact that my dick had been hard through most of it.  I was humiliated, beaten, forced to suck some losers, well two losers, cock in a bus station bathroom and used as a sex toy for several hours and somehow I like it?  I looked down as my damn dick hardened.  What the hell?

I realized that I was heading toward my office building.  I sat on a bench in a small park and let my mind wander.  I thought  back to last Friday. It had taken so long for me to build up the courage to first seek him out online an then follow-through with the plans to meet him.  His careful questions about physical appearance – blonde, blue, average height, decent shape – apparently to add to his “collection?”  My reluctance, then acquiescence, to his demand for no limits or pre-conditions.  My excitement when the package arrived on Friday and the dissolution of my identity as I made my way to him.

Was it what I had expected?  I thought in many ways more so and in some much less.  I was expecting “master,” “sir,” “boy,” and “slave;” not a rigid cell block with adjacent punishment rooms.  It was odd – hardly seeing him, rarely speaking to him, yet yearning to somehow please him.  Thinking back it was like training by proxy – or some psychological experiment.  My dick was getting hard again as I thought about the electric torture, the flogging, the isolation cell.  We had agreed on a week and he was true to his word.  He had released me and sent me on my way as promised.  Was it enough for me, though?

I got up from the park bench and was going to go up to my office to pick-up my keys (he had said he would send them FedEx to be on my desk on Monday).  But – it wasn’t Monday and there is no way the security guys in the lobby are going to let someone dressed like me (or smelling like me) into the building at all.

I sat back down.  What the hell was I going to do now?  I had no keys and nowhere to stay – I was going to have to stay on the street.  I remembered the knapsack and looked inside.  Other than the change for the city bus and Greyhound ticket I hadn’t even had a chance see what else was in it.  A bottle of water, some granola bars (very thoughtful) and, down at the bottom, an envelope.  I opened it and found a few bucks in cash, an ID, and another bus ticket.

I stared at the bus ticket – it was for a departure tonight back to him.  There would be just enough cash to get to the old warehouse behind the tavern – would he be anticipating my return?  How could he be sure that I would come back?  I thought of the guy that had come back to the warehouse when I was released from the crate.  He went back.  Was his situation the same as mine?  Did he decide that he belonged fully to him and desired nothing else but to return?  Apparently a decision was forming in my mind.

I took the ID out of the envelope and turned it over in my hand.  Jeremy looked out at me from the picture and I was lost for a moment in his eyes.  My dick was alive and struggling to get out of the grungy jock.  I got up and started walking back to the bus station.

Along the way I stopped in a public restroom that (miracle) wasn’t locked.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  I was filthy.  I was getting a black eye from being smacked.  There was dried cum on my face, in my hair, on the t-shirt, and on the jacket.  I still had the bandanna tied around my neck (I had forgotten completely about that).  I almost jumped out of my skin when another guy walked in – I was anticipating it being the asshole from the bus – it wasn’t. He was just a tourist.  I rinsed my face a little.  Rinsed my hair.  Wiped as much of the cum off my clothes as I could.  I started to remove the bandanna but stopped.  As with everything else, it was becoming part of an identity that was replacing mine.

The tourist walked quickly by on his way out of the toilet, but stopped and handed me a five dollar bill before leaving.  He must have thought I was a bum.  I smiled and tucked it in my pocket.  What the hell, it would pay for a burger and a coke!

I looked at myself in the mirror one more time.  Who are you?  My image blurred for a moment and I saw nothing more than a (relatively) cute, somewhat grungy, street hustler.  Maybe the tourist had been hoping for a blowjob?

I left the bathroom and continued on my way to the bus station and back to him.

I desired nothing else.

 

Metal would like to thank Marknorth for this story!

 

2 thoughts on “Lost Identity”

  1. I reached Part 5 and was enjoying this story so much that i decided to stop and save the rest for later. It is as Master Marknorth has read my mind and is describing my deepest dreams for the life I would give to another man to keep me as his slave.

    I am a born slave and my entire sexual identity is as being property to be owned and used by my master for his pleasure and comfort. Being his slave will be my entire existence and public identity.

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