Tag Archives: Practicerestraint

Story

Three Slaves – Part 02

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By Practicerestraint

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.

“Get out.”

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Story

Three Slaves – Part 01

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By Practicerestraint

Note:  the change between pronouns (he/it/his/its) reflects the state of mind of the master and/or slave at that moment in the account.

Chapter 1

The first slave was taken to a mine. His irons and collar were removed, but a ten-pound collar was locked around his neck. He would be fitted with the equivalent of an Organ boot: a weight around his ankle that would prevent him from running. In the mines, the collar would be chained to a ring near the slave’s work spot and his leg iron removed. The iron would go on again when the slaves were rotated out to be fed and watered and rested. At night, lucky slaves could have their heavy collars removed if they offered the guards their bodies.

The slave dealer herded the two remaining slaves into the back of the van. Leg irons, run through rings welded to the floor of the van, were attached quickly and the doors slammed on the cargo.

Hours later, the van arrived at a rural location. The driver was met by a tall man in a sheriff’s uniform. The two men talked briefly, exchanged envelopes, and then the dealer opened the door. He unshackled one slave’s feet, neck, and wrists. The slave gave no thought to escape, particularly since the sheriff held a taser.

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Story

12 Hours

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By Practicerestraint

All is true.—Shakespeare, Henry VIII

 

10:20 p.m.

The text message read: You have two minutes to get dressed and be ready. Unlock the front door.

 

10:25 p.m.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard the noise at the front door. Then I heard, “Police! Announce yourself!”

It’s hard to announce yourself with a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit, rinsed, and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom as the officer repeated himself and I called out, “I’m here.”

“Come out here!”

I walked into the dark hall to see a flashlight and a gun pointed at me. The officer’s specific words after that escape me. They were nonstop directions that ended only when I was lying face down on the carpet at the end of the hall, arms out to the sides, palms up. The officer knelt, grabbed my left wrist, pulled my arm to the middle of my back, and applied the handcuffs. After he brought my right hand back to complete the job, I realized he had my palms facing out. He instructed me to stand, providing assistance as I did. He grabbed my left arm and led me out the door.

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