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It started with Mitts –Part 17

By Bondagegimp

Darkness

Black. Everything is black. It was still light in the cabin when Bob put in my contact lenses. But there’s nothing left of it, not the slightest bit of light. My eyes dart around in panic, trying to see anything, at least a little bit of brightness. But nothing! Since the second lens was in my eye, I haven’t been able to calm down. It’s too brutal how Bob simply took away my sight. One moment it was light, now it’s just black. Blacker than any darkness.

Now Bob snuggles up to me, half on top of me, one leg over my legs so he could rub my diaper with his thigh, or at least I can feel the weight of his leg muscles on my cock. His upper body is half on top of me, one arm around me. His head is very close to mine; I can feel his beard, his breathing. He speaks soothingly to me, holding my head. At the same time, I feel him staring at me. I knew his gaze, when he pierced me with his eyes, peering deep into my innermost being, fathoming me. I feel his face above mine. I know he is staring at me like that again. I know how closely he studied other people’s gazes and how much he can read in them. But it must be different if the gaze isn’t returned. The black contact lenses work both ways. I’m blind, but Bob can’t look into me either. It seems to fascinate Bob incredibly, because he remains completely motionless for several minutes. “Such helpless eyes” – that’s what he says again and again.

Continue reading It started with Mitts –Part 17

Chain Gang – Part 09

By slaveobjectx

I tell this story yet I have no name. I am addressed only as slave. I said I would survive but now I will tell you how I did. I had battened myself down in isolation, indifferent to the sufferings of my fellow slaves, concentrating solely on dealing with my own fate, feeling that help from any one else would not be forthcoming. Not from the guards, of course, who at best carried out their duties indifferently – I, as slave was merely livestock and they had received enough training to regard all the chained slaves as livestock, with no need to deal with us as anything but subhuman, owned animals. At worst the guards regarded us as outlets for their own private passions – to punish, to mistreat , to abuse, to debase, to degrade, to humiliate, to fuck.

Yes, I had resolved to survive; to find an inner strength that would see me through all that they could throw at me. I would not be subhuman; I would not be an animal. Though I might not be permitted to exhibit it in terms of physical behaviour, I would not allow them to take over my mind. I’d conform outwardly but inwardly I’d be free. Yeah, great thoughts but how to make those thoughts real? Everything conspired against that – the inhumanity of my physical position where there was no escape in any way from the reality of the chains and shackles; the treatment from the guards which was expressly designed to degrade, humiliate, prompting, at best, a desire to comply with every order, no matter how vile so that the idea of choice was eliminated. We were being programmed to become robotic in all responses, robotic in all our behaviour.

Continue reading Chain Gang – Part 09

Strike 3! – Part 02

By Chain slave

Strike 3, the beginning.

Message from Chainslave – It could so easily be, if only tops were man enough to carry through with their threats and promises.

My mind was racing. I was excited, apprehensive, (actually shitting myself) and trying to think how I was going to get through the weekend and then another whole week.

I needed to release my load as I desperately checked the solid locks denying me.

I collapsed onto my bed, head still spinning and as horny as hell. I kept checking the time as the hours moved on and sleep refusing to comfort me, I thought I may as well embrace my situation and accept my much begged for status as a slave. The last time I checked it was 02h23.

I woke up early in the morning with my cock straining in its tiny cage. I was trying desperately to think of anything other than my immediate dilemma, but the constant pain made it impossible. Thinking of the phrase I had heard so often “resistance if futile.” Reminding myself to relish it as I knew it’s what I truly wanted.

Continue reading Strike 3! – Part 02