By RotherhamMan

Don was just finishing up with Jason when his phone rang.

Jason had been in his dungeon for over a month now, almost the longest time anyone had spent down there. The trouble had been finding a buyer who wanted a heavily tattooed man in his late thirties who had been used and abused for such a period. Don had done so much to Jason that he had almost gotten bored with him and was in danger of losing more money than he would like if he was there any longer. He fed his slaves on a special chow that resembled dog food and hosed them down when needed, but that was all he really spent on them. Jason had been fed and watered but hadn’t been allowed to wash since he arrived and was filthy.

The guy was however beginning to acclimatise with his new life. He slept well on the concrete floor and had learned to assume a kneeling position when Don entered. Don kept his visits irregular to confuse the occupants of how much time was passing, leaving as little as a minute or as long as a whole day between sessions. Sleeping and feeding times were also varied. Don came in and emptied the chow into a bowl rather than use a machine to do it to associate food with him and only slid it to the prisoner after they had thanked him properly. The lights were either on or off as he determined, bright enough to prevent sleep or pitch black. Some developed a fear of the dark from this, especially if he left them in pain or discomfort.

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