He entered the building slowly, opening the door just a few inches at first. A dim diffused light made its way through the high window that was covered with dust from years past. He was sure this was the place, the place he had heard the noise come from only yesterday evening, that muffled scream which stretched out for several seconds then stopped abruptly.
The old barn was the only building across the fields, he must be right.
As he grew used to the light his eyes made out the thick beams that were part of the old building’s heart. Ropes hung from them, probably remnants of the farming years, still looking as strong as they would have done when new. There was a bench and some metal frames as well, all carefully stowed to one side of the floor. He gradually walked across the open area, conscious that there was nowhere to hide if anyone came in, but then no one did any more. The place was known to be deserted and had been for some years.
He approached the centre of the floor and stood directly under one of the cross beams that appeared to keep the walls from closing in on each other. He cautiously handled the rope that hung from it to the floor and curled round on itself, just once, before it ended like the tail of a snake.
Funny, it wasn’t dusty or dirty. In fact it looked quite new.
The shock that went through him when he heard the voice was like a hammer blow to the back of the neck.
“Like them, do you? My ropes, like the feel of them do you?”
He half spun round, half tripped over the end of the rope and ended the movement by falling flat on his front raising a cloud of age old dust which effectively choked him.
He coughed and gasped, his eyes filled with tears. As he finished rubbing them and wiping his face with his hand he slowly opened them. In front of him, immediately in front of him, were a pair of boots. Black, highly polished, knee length leather boots.
He quickly put out his arms to prise his body off the floor where he was still prone but one of the boots instantly pressed down on his right shoulder keeping him absolutely flat. He felt the power and strength behind that movement, he could do nothing against it. Panicking he started to shout out but all too suddenly he felt a hand cover his mouth and a knee press heavily into the small of his back. He was grabbed by the hair, his head jerked back and up to accept the gag that was forced into his still open mouth. It then went dark, very dark, as a leather bag like hood was pulled over him and tied off round his neck. He pulled air into his lungs and gulped it down, heart racing, head spinning. Unable to comprehend the situation his mind swirled out of control. All he knew was that he was unable to move his arms, which were now behind him and locked together at the wrists by a metal band that was cutting into his skin, and he was being pulled bodily by the ankles across the cracked concrete floor.
At first he tried to resist, but bound, hooded and gagged there was little he could do to prevent himself being taken to wherever his captor desired, worse still he realised that once he was there nothing could prevent this man from doing whatever he chose with him. With a chill he recalled the sharply cut off scream he had heard the previous night, he knew that he too was now in the place from where he had heard that scream come. He was lifted to his feet and he heard a voice say “It will be easier if you cooperate”. He knew that he had little choice. Even if his hands were to be released he was still hooded and gagged and from what he already knew of his captor he was bigger and stronger than he was.
Guided by the bigger man he moved with short, tentative steps in his darkness .He heard some sort of door creaking as it opened and the leather gloved hands manoeuvred him to the right. The voice said “There are stairs in front of you”. He took the first step down. It seemed steep. He counted fifteen in all, which he guessed took him about ten feet down .He realised that he was in a subterranean chamber. His mind considered the possibilities, the old barn looked completely derelict and unused from the outside and was certainly not the kind of place that one would expect to have a cellar. With a chill creeping over him he deduced the only plausible explanation, the man who had taken him and currently had him hooded, bound and gagged, was responsible for building this place. This deduction, together with the circumstances of that dreadful scream, frightened him in a way that nothing else had ever done in his life. He tried to remain calm, it was his only hope.
The hands that guided him down the stairs held him tight and stopped him a few paces away from the bottom step. He waited. The air had a distinct chill that he had not felt when he entered the barn. He continue to wait, there was no other movement around him that he could sense. No sound, he felt as if he was left quite alone but he dared not move. He had the feeling that he was being watched, the spine tingle that acted as a kind of very basic radar.
Then it all happened very suddenly. He felt a tug on his arms as his wrists, still tightly bound, were pulled up behind him swiftly bending him forward. The hot pain between his shoulder blades hit him as they quickly took most of his weight, he now being just balanced on his toes. The bag hood was unfastened and pulled slowly off his head which was now being held facing the floor by the leather gloved hands, not that he could have raised it far if he had tried. He saw once again the shiny black leather boots, assured in their position, and part of the leathers that were tucked into them.
“So,” said the quiet voice of the leather clad man, “You wanted to see inside my ‘place’ here? Let’s see how much we have to interest you.
The man walked away, his boots clipping the stone floor. As the boi hung there, swaying slightly to try and get a better view of his surroundings, the boots sounded the man’s return.
The boi swung violently and let out a gurgled throaty scream through his gag as he saw in front of him, in the man’s hand, a shiny, cruelly sharp pair of shears not unlike those old fashioned ones used for sheep shearing. He bucked and kicked only to receive a sharp cuff to the side of the head leaving his head swimming and him hanging with all his weight on his now numb arms. The man grabbed the boi’s shorts by the waist band and pulled them towards him. With a single movement he had sliced them through, letting them fall to the floor in two pieces.
“Any more noise like that and I WILL have your balls off” he rasped in the boi’s ear. He reached round and did the same to the shirt which fell off the boi’s back and was kicked aside. The prisoner shivered as the cool air caressed his naked body, not knowing what, when or how the next thing would happen. Fear coursed through his shaking body. He realised that he was alone again. But it didn’t last for long.
He saw that his captor had something in his gloved hand. It appeared to be a black leather strap with a buckle attachment, At first he couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Then when he opened it out he saw that it was some kind of harness, the leather panel had a circular hole at it’s centre and he felt his flaccid penis pulled through and a strap pulled up tight between the cheeks of his arse and quickly attached to others that ran around his hips so that he wore the leather harness that was now drawn up tightly around him. To his horror he felt his penis start to expand and harden, this wasn’t at all what he meant to happen, after all this was a man doing it to him and he wasn’t gay, was he?
The gloved hand gripped him firmly, began to stroke him, and he responded further with a substantial erection, his penis pushing out horizontally from his body through the aperture in the leather. Despite the torture that he felt hanging from his roped arms, or quite possibly because of it, his response was one of unalloyed sexual excitement, albeit one that he felt some degree of shame for. His captor’s gloved fingers caressed his swollen shaft a few times bringing his erection to full maturity before drawing the bottom of the four thin leather straps that were attached to the triangular leather panel above the aperture that his penis poked through around the sac of his swollen balls. He squirmed as the strap compressed their soft, vulnerable flesh into a tight bag. Then he felt the second strap tighten about the base of his penis, followed by the third and fourth ones, the latter being buckled just beneath the prominent ridge of his helmet. Although he couldn’t see the effect this restraint was having he had it firmly in his mind’s eye. He had wanked often enough, the prominent veins in his cock dilated as they pumped the blood that provided that wonderful feeling of a full erection and now that his captor had strapped him into this device that seemed designed to provide both restraint and pleasure his mind swam with the conflicting emotions.
He felt warm breath on his neck and smelled the heady aroma of tanned leather in his nostrils and both sensations served only to harden his bound penis, now pulled up vertically and strapped to his lower belly. His captor’s lips caressed his neck near to his bare shoulder blade and he began to shudder involuntarily and he realised that this was not a shudder of revulsion but one of sensuous awareness. The lips nuzzled the lobe of his left ear and he felt the tongue begin to probe as the gloved hand held his hips in the manner that a lover touches a partner. His mind dissolved into a maelstrom of confused emotions, this wasn’t meant to happen, he wasn’t gay.
Whatever he felt soon disappeared into the depths of his consciousness as the gloved hands reached forward, over and down his chest until they reached his nipples. He had not given them a thought up to now, why should he with everything else he had to think about, but suddenly he realised that they stood proud, proud enough to give the leather gloved fingers something to hold on to. The man held them both tightly, squeezing them and twisting them until the slightly erotic feeling became a sharp pain that shot through his chest and burnt its way to his belly. He screamed through the gag which continued to allow nothing but a gurgle of spit and moaning through it. He wrenched at the ropes that held his arms, a reaction that only made the pain in his back increase dramatically. He heard the man chuckle as the twisting and squeezing motion lessened, finally releasing his tender points as the gloves traced paths across his back and round his neck.
“You’ll do fine,” the words were spoken as the man walked away, “It will take some time but you’ll get there.”
Time? What time? How long? The boi’s mind once again raced in panic as he thought through that phrase. “Mmmmmmmph” was all he was able to say.
He would have given anything for release, or he thought he would. His mind, settling slightly, remembered that his cock was still throbbing warm and hard inside the straps of the leather device that held him so well. He felt a strange longing for that breath on his neck again, the feeling of the tongue on his ear. Why? What did it mean? What the hell was happening to him?
He worked through those thoughts, bodily shaking in his bonds as they took a toll on his muscles and cramped him in stages, for several minutes before the booted footsteps returned.
“Time for the next lesson,” were the words he thought he heard, as he felt the hand run down his spine giving him the most delicious quiver, but as the next thing he heard was a swift passage of leather through air and an explosion of pain on his lower back and thighs he couldn’t even be sure he was still conscious. His legs went limp. He could do nothing now except take what was coming, to curl up inside himself whilst his body was wracked with the scalding, all encompassing torture that every stroke of the man’s whip held for him.
The impact of the whip continued and intensified .His mind began to close down, a kind of coping mechanism to deal with the pain that he was enduring, and it was pain of a type and a level that he had never endured in his life before. The whip was wielded expertly, the long leather tail heavy and braided sizzled through the air at each stroke providing a fraction of a second’s warning of its impact on his tortured flesh. Not that this was of any help to him, nothing he could do could prepare him for the pain that seemed to centre in his brain rather than his body. Of course he instinctively tried to twist his body away from its vicious bite but his captor had covered that possibility quite comprehensively, the way he had been roped ensuring that however he attempted to move was utterly futile. All he could do was hang in the ropes, bite hard down onto the gag that prevented him from protesting and take the punishment.
……And yet, as he settled into the abyss of his pain, there was something else there. At the times that he was able to take in the physical presence of his captor a curious fascination began to mingle with his suffering. There was something in this man’s sheer arrogance, the way he moved around him in those gleaming black leather boots, laced right onto the knees and tied with bows and the glimpses of his long, powerful muscled thighs beneath the smooth black leather of the skin tight trousers. Briefly the whip strokes ceased and the full figure of his captor moved into his eye line and he took in the magnificence of him. He was over six feet tall and a tight leather vest top left his wide shoulders exposed His eyes dropped to the belt about his waist. Three brass buckles pulled him in and sat just above the final thing that he noticed, at his crotch as he stood with his leather gloved hands on his hips surveying his bound victim, the black leather bulged outwards and he could clearly make out the shape of a cock shaft. Even constrained by the leather he could tell that it was big. In his mind he saw it, drawn to full erection now by the eroticism of his own plight, just waiting to violate him, to penetrate his mouth, his arse and ultimately to squirt it’s hot river of thick creamy white nectar that would declare it’s ownership of him. At this point it became crystal clear to him. He wanted this.
As he forced his head up enough to see his captor more clearly he felt the gloved hands once again clasp each side of his head but this time he was held face first into the leathered bulging crotch which now presented itself to him and massaged itself against his mouth. The hands which held him moved his head slowly up and down the engorged shaft which seemed to strain against the leather. He felt his gag being unbuckled at his neck and in an instant it had fallen to the floor between the glossy sheen of those magnificent boots leaving his tongue ready to explore the firm outline of the rock hard penis beneath its leather cage. Instinctively his tongue protruded from his mouth and traced the outline of the cock. He felt the head, he wanted more. He ran his tongue hungrily over and over the black hide until he realised that the man was beginning to release the leather bond that held him in and slowly the fly began to open. A deft movement brought that tantalising member out and just as swiftly he opened his mouth to accept it. He had no explanation for his action. He had not thought about it, not for an instant did he plan this. His arms, numb with the strain of his aching body; his body, burning from each stroke of the whip it had received, both had receded into the depths of his consciousness as this new sensation swung back and forth in his throat, making him giddy with the intense erotic feeling that now coursed through him. His own cock grew, he felt it throbbing in time with the movement being forced upon him by the man’s muscular hips. Again, he had no control over these feelings. He was unwittingly responding to the overpowering sexual emotions flooding his senses.
It stopped. He was hanging there bound, helpless, shivering with fear and cold. The man simply turned and left. He wanted to cry out, to demand…. What? Release? Certainly. Or was it? He was in turmoil. He wanted desperately to be cut down from the excruciatingly painful position he was in yet he wanted the man to return, to abuse his mouth once again, he wanted to feel the warmth of his body, he knew he wanted more, much more.
The door slammed shut behind the leather clad figure. The darkness was total. He cried out. He screamed, the echo bounced off the stone walls of this subterranean room and hit him full in the face. He knew the sound would not be heard further than this all but empty cellar but he yelled again. He subsided into mere sobbing, tears running down his face and gathering in small pools round his chin before they dropped through the blackness to the flagstones. He was an adult male, he was not some kid who’d fallen and scraped his knee, but his whole being now wanted comfort, he wanted to be held and ..he hardly dared think it. His head swam and in front of his eyes circles of light, blue, orange and pink swirled as he gradually fell into semi consciousness. His limp body hung in the rope bonds.
He had no idea how much time had elapsed. It seemed like an age but he knew that it was probably measured in a few tens of minutes. His submission was complete but something made him want to make a fight of it. Strangely it seemed that deep within his subconscious that should he at least make an attempt at escape then he had done enough to satisfy his honour as a man, if he was taken then there really was nothing more that he could do, the pleasure would be guilt free. So when his captor returned and released him from his ropes, allowing him a brief respite as he remained on his knees, the feeling and strength gradually returning to his arms he resolved not to allow himself to be bound again, yes, he would fight.
“On your feet boy.”
The order came and he was now expected to obey. He did so at once, but only to give himself a better chance of escape. As the big man moved within range he brought his right fist round as fast as he could towards him. Unfortunately in his weakened condition not only did it fail to carry enough weight but also did not manage to connect as his target moved deftly aside. The reply was quick and deadly. A leather gloved fist rose into his own abdomen driving the air from his lungs, a fraction of a second later another hit him square in the face. He stood for a brief second before his knees buckled under his own weight and the floor came up to meet him. It seemed only an instant had passed and a leather boot was pressing on his neck as he flailed like some sort of insect caught in a trap and awaiting its end.
Laughter filled the dungeon. “So that was it then? The best you could manage” The voice was mocking, humiliating. He felt a hand grab him and he was pulled across to where a steel cage stood with its door open. “Get in there”. His attempt at resistance easily overcome, he now faced the consequences. He looked at the small, cramped cage. “No.. please…” He knew before he began to beg that there really was no point and deep down he probably realised that he had been meant to attempt to resist as a way of increasing his humiliation. He crawled inside and the heavy door was swung closed and a lock clicked shut. “Wrists up behind you boy.”
This was totally unnecessary. He was already confined inside the steel cage with its heavy vertical bars, he was going nowhere, but he realised the futility of any further attempt to refuse cooperation and the reaction it might bring. Meekly he placed his wrists high on his back as he contorted his body to fit inside the tiny prison. He felt the leather cuffs encircle them and they were then secured to the roof of the cage, the position designed to achieve both maximum humiliation and, with the passage of time, a very considerable amount of pain and discomfort. “As punishment for your escape attempt you will spend the next two hours like that, any further attempt and the sentence will be doubled.”
The voice was confident and insistent and he knew that his captor was in a position to do with him exactly as he pleased. He settled down, his arms and shoulders already wracked with the pain of being bound into such a terrible position. His sobs began once more as the sound of boots faded away into the distance and he occupied this cage that now represented his entire world until such time as another person decided otherwise. Although he didn’t realise it yet he was being conditioned to accept his position as a slave, the process of turning him from a free man into one who had no other purpose except to serve and pleasure another had already begun.
The darkness was complete, it encompassed his mind and his body. He could not even see the bars anymore even though they were inches from his face. To ease his back he allowed his body to hang so that he rested his forehead on the floor of the cage. This doubled the pain in his arms and so it was only good for a few minutes. He eased his arms by straightening up as best he could; this had little benefit as he felt the intense pain in his back return immediately. The next hour or so was spent with small shuffling movements, every one of them being useless at alleviating the pain in the slightest way. His head began to spin again. The total darkness, the overwhelming tiredness and the complete sense of defeat that he now felt all conspired to shut down his mind as his body tried to play catch up with his pain. Why bother to look up, why make the pain and humiliation worse, why not simply submit to any demand the man may make of him. He slumped forward.
He was not conscious of the return of the man, he didn’t hear the sharp clip of the soles of those boots as they caught the concrete floor with each step and even if he had there was nothing he could have done about it. He didn’t hear the door of the cage unbolted nor feel the leather gloved hands pulling him out and onto the floor. He was aware of light but was now too far gone to care what happened to him.
The man pulled him across the floor once again but this time to the other side where a door was half open. Inside a small room there was a mattress of sorts on the floor and various chains and manacles hanging from the walls. He was pulled onto the mattress, sat up against one wall where his arms were locked into the heavy steel cuffs, level with his shoulders that swung from equally heavy chains. Another ring was placed round his neck and locked on with a padlock; this too was joined by a chain to a fixture high up on the wall. He opened his eyes enough to see the silhouette of the man against the bare bulb kneeling in front of him. He felt the touch of leather as fingers traced lines across his chest, played gently with his nipples, twisted them and dropped to his crotch where they equally gently began to play around the outline of the leather chastity device, which only served to arouse him. He had no energy or inclination to do anything but take what was coming, he simply sat and accepted the feelings that were racing unhindered across his mind, not caring nor bothering to think about the consequences of his predicament. “Yes, you’ll do very well indeed” the man said getting up and closing the door behind him.
He soon returned however. The captured man watching him, totally compliant now as he knelt, secured to his prison walls by the steel manacles and collar attached to the equally cold and unforgiving steel chains. He began to notice things about his captor that he had not had the time or the opportunity to take in before. He admired his big, powerful body and the way the polished black leather stretched across his muscled thighs above the gleaming leather boots. His eyes were at crotch level and of course were drawn to the bulge that ran vertically from the top of his right thigh. He realised that the erect penis that lay beneath was the reason why he was being treated in this way, the reason that he had been taken in the first place and why he was now evidently to be used as this man’s sex slave. Teasingly his captor caressed his own bulge with a leather gloved hand, the fingers lightly stroking the leather so that the penis beneath hardened still more. His finger and thumb lingered for a second on the tab of the zipper then slowly, inch by inch he drew it down.
The chained man knelt with his face just inches away, his breath almost stopped now as the musky scent of masculinity drifted towards him, mingled with the heady aroma of the fine black leather. Before he could react any further it was there in front of his face, standing horizontally erect towards him in its full glory. It really was a fine specimen. He had seen cocks in porn films and these were obviously chosen because they were especially fine examples of the male genitalia but the size and shape of this one was up there with them. The foreskin had been removed and this gave it a symmetrical neatness and both highlighted the delightful ridge at the base of the head, it’s dark, almost purple, escarpment displayed to perfection and also served to underline the wonderful domed shape of the head itself.
Although it was a good seven inches in length the girth was what made him take notice. The wide shaft was heavily veined where the blood pumped to create such a magnificent erection. At the slit in the centre of the head pre cum glistened and had spread across the entire surface to give a kind of sheen. He reached forward to the extent that the steel collar allowed and his lips met the warm shaft of flesh, taking it once more into his mouth. Strangely the vague familiarity of it from earlier was comforting to him and he wanted to carry on where he had left off before. He felt the owner react with a small thrust and an audible sigh that could not be mistaken for anything other than pleasure. He took it deeper now, almost greedily wanting more of the hard shaft inside him The leather clad hips worked harder propelling the now rock hard cock like the piston of some engine filling and emptying the cylinder of his throat.
He gagged as it entered him again and again but his captor now had him in his firm grip and his dominance reasserted itself as he used the shackled slave. He felt its raging reach a final steel like condition as the sound of a deep animal scream assaulted his ears as the cock finally discharged its warm, glutinous river of spunk into him. He felt the power of the first shot as it hit the back of his throat on its way down to his belly and he tasted the divine saltiness in his mouth as further, smaller shots, landed on his tongue where his taste buds struggled to categorise this unfamiliar flavour. He felt it withdrawn from him as his captor turned without a word and left the prison cell, dousing the light and leaving him with the memory of his visit in his mouth.
Metal would like to thank slavebladeboi for the story. To read more from him, visit his blog, Master and slave.